The walk to the Market

I told Sylvia that I would ask but I could not promise anything. Sylvia on the other hand was quite confident that my father would obtain a membership.

We passed the club. The houses around the club were almost like wooden cottages. Their style was different from where I lived. Sylvia said “these are vacation houses that were built by the British for temporary stays. You live in a stone villa also built by the British who established permanent residency here. “ ‘Boy did she sound superior’ I thought and then on impulse I blurted that comment out. I was horrified that my mouth betrayed my mind. Sylvia stoped, stared at me and then said, Well im older than you by 3 months." Whats that go to do with anything?" I asked. Syvia grnned... an Egyptian saying is: Older than you by a day is older than you by a year, so I am 900 times your elder!!" I shook my head and laughed at her, "well if thats the case you must be ancient!" we giggled at this thought. We kept walking along, sylvia pointing out all the landmarks and places of interest. We walked passed the homes on the other side of the Maadi club we came to a stinking slime filled canal that was lined with eucalyptus trees.
“YUUUUK! This stinks!”
“I know” replied Sylvia while she pinched her nose closed. “the bridge is that way ….Come on” We ran along Maadi canal while she explained that it used to be a pleasant place during the time of the Britsh that built up that area.

We finally reached the bridge. It was a cute wooden bridge with decorative carvings on it, but we could not stay to look at it. A body of a dead donkey lay bloated in the water nearby. It was causing the stink! We held our noses tighter and ran across the bridge. We seemed to keep running almost into the market place. When we stopped for a breath Sylvia said “BLAhhhhhhh! I thought they moved that already! That was horrible”

My eyes were watering. I bent over feeling sure that I would vomit. “It sure was horrible” I replied while panting.

Sylvia had already started walking.
“Hey!” I yelled “Wait up!” and I ran to catch her. We walked in silence. The sounds of the market were getting louder by the minute. Sylvia stopped and got her coin purse ready. “Let’s go”

The market was noisy. One of the noisiest places I had ever been to. There were many farmers with their donkey carts piled with different fruits and vegetables. Spice vendors had canvas sacks filled with spices. Butchers hung meat out on large hooks. Everywhere there seemed to be a pleasant smell of spices mixed with the smell of rotting tomatoes. Sylvia went to different carts. Each of the farmers that Sylvia went to knew her. They greeted her and quickly chose the best produce to weigh on their huge brass scales. Some farmers gave her a hard time. I was amazed that this tiny girl could out talk, out bargain and out haggle the farmers.
“Sylvia? Why do you do that”
Do what
Bargain so hard
Well if I do a good job bargaining, I can save a couple of Piasters (Egyptian pennies) for myself. I can then buy popcorn or a coke at the movies!”

Finally we went over to the bakery. I could smell the bread. Sylvia handed the man 1 piaster and opened her bag. He put 10 loaves of round rough looking bread into her bag. Shuk-rrun! (Thank you) She yelled and said to me “would you like a loaf of French bread?” I said sure
She said something in Arabic and handed the man a tarifa (1/2 a penny) and he gave us a really hot loaf of French bread.
“Shukran” I said. The baker smiled at me while waggling his finger at me.

“Shuk-rrrun” he said saying it slow so I could get it. I hated to be corrected but he really wanted me to say it right. “Shuk-rrun” I repeated.
He smiled and hand me another loaf of French bread. “Forrrr hugh” he attempted in English……..“For you” I corrected… he grinned at me and waved us off so he could help the next customer.
We decided to take a longer way back home and most of time we ate those loaves of bread.