The Veggie Seller and The Spirit of Cairo

It was just a routine trip to my local veggie seller on a Friday afternoon. I went to the shop with the singular intention of buying my weekly supply of produce. However, at the end of my visit, I walked away with more than just fruit. I left with a full stomach and a warm heart.

The vegetable shop that I buy from is run by a father and his two sons. When I went there to purchase veggies, the father was just sitting down to have his lunch, which consisted of veggie soup, some koshary, and a combination of stew meat and a potato-like root. One of his sons (whose name I can never remember), was there talking with his father. I exchanged the usual greetings and before I knew it, I was given a spoon and encouraged to try the soup. Then they brought me a “plate” and the father started scooping copious amounts of food onto it. The next thing I knew I was seated comfortably on a stool chatting along (in spite of the communication barrier). Both father and son were so gracious to me and kept encouraging me to eat more and more. The food was incredible! The son told me with pride that his mother and his wife had cooked it.

The best part was that for those few moments, our relationship was no longer shopkeeper and customer, but instead it was replaced by friendship. There was an easy warmth to the whole interaction. Perhaps, that is the most welcome that I have felt the whole time that I’ve been in Cairo. Before I left, the son told me that that I had made his father very happy. And all I could say out of gratitude was “thank you” because when someone treats you that graciously, what else is there to say? I think that that incident for me was the perfect embodiment of the Cairene spirit.

Cairo is a dirty, frustrating, and at times, overwhelming city. But the Spirit of Cairo isn’t in the city itself. It’s in the people. Once you’ve been here a while, you can’t help but fall in love with the inhabitants of this city. That said, it’s hard to describe what exactly constitutes the Cairene spirit. There’s a certain Otherness to it, a mystery, a beauty. Undoubtedly, it’s got something to do with the indomitable sense of solidarity that Egyptians have with one another. People here are generous and kind. They like to help each other out. If they see that someone has need, they are quick to offer unsolicited assistance.

Also, people here are real characters. You meet sleaze balls and saints, super religious people and well, not-so-religious people, people who drive with live cows in their pick-ups and people who drive with already slaughter cows (uncovered) in the back of their trucks. There are veiled women and un-veiled women, women who radiate kindness and women who could freeze water with a single glance, women who ride side-saddle in abeyyas on the back of motorcycles with babies in their arms and women who drive like Paul Walker in the “Fast and Furious” movies. One night, I even saw three men on a motorcycle holding a giant, pink teddy bear. It’s no wonder Mahfouz had such quirky characters in his novels.

And of course, there’s the Cairene’s laugh-at-the-worst-situation-in-the-world sense of humor. I’m not suggesting that Cairenes are flippant. Instead their brand of humor is one which has developed out of the frustrations of life and has been tempered by humility. It’s the ilk of laughter that creates camaraderie and hope.