There are hundreds of such questions, but it would be wrong even to try to answer them without first setting yourself the task of understanding those people who live in a different era, in a completely different world, speaking a different language and, finally, having a completely different appearance, yet are direct descendants of great rulers, craftsmen, artists, builders and philosophers.
Someone Else's Face
Contrary to chronological order, we begin our story from the end, with the most abrupt turn in the country's history - the Arab conquest. It is from this period, since it is the line dividing the fate of the Egyptian people into two parts - the Egyptian proper and the Egyptian-Arab. A cruel joke of history, as a result of which one people, having reached such heights of civilization, dissolves into another, which became famous in world history mainly thanks to its skilled, fearless warriors.
Anyone who has ever seen sculptures and frescoes depicting ancient Egyptians, finding themselves in modern Egypt, will be surprised at their outward dissimilarity to the descendants now living on the banks of the Nile. Judge for yourselves: large almond-shaped eyes, regular, chiseled facial features, slender, fit figures of ancient Egyptians - and round, thick-lashed, slightly bulging brown eyes, rather vague features of a round face, stocky and squat figures of today's Egyptians.
Different faces, different clothing, a different language, finally. At first glance, the creators of a great civilization that lasted for tens of centuries and survived numerous invasions of various peoples simply disappeared, leaving behind traces only on papyrus.
But no! In the mosaic of Arab faces, a glance of almond-shaped eyes may flash, a protruding pharaonic ear may appear, and the gestures of street vendors or dancers suddenly recall those uniquely angular gestures with which Egyptians addressed the deities on temple reliefs.
The story connected with the discovery of an ancient wooden statue is both amusing and telling. When, already in our time, inhabitants of one Egyptian village dug it out of the ground, they suddenly discovered such a striking resemblance between the wooden man and the local sheikh that everyone cried out in one voice: "Sheikh el-Balad!" Just imagine: the modern sheikh and his sleek, well-fed prototype were separated by more than four thousand years!
Andrei Bely, who visited Egypt at the beginning of what is now the past century, wrote that Egyptian antiquity was sprouting in 20th-century Egypt. The way Cairo policemen raised their white baton reminded him of the gestures of little Egyptian figures on frescoes. Thus did ancient Egypt from tombs excavated in the sands burst onto Cairo's avenue. By the way, about Cairo's avenues.
The Intimate Life of Cairo's Roads
Anyone who finds himself in Cairo for the first time - whose population, by the way, is 16 million - and tries to cross one of its avenues, is in for a shock. Why? Because here no one - neither drivers nor pedestrians - obeys the rules of the road. Moreover, one gets the impression that in Egypt they simply do not exist. In any case, we did not notice any road signs, and all the traffic lights we saw looked like props for a production of "Uncle Styopa - Militiaman". Although if a broken traffic light in that poem did eventually wait for its Uncle Styopa, our hero never made it to Cairo. So poor pedestrians throw themselves headlong into the seething stream of cars, whose owners pretend not to notice them and have no intention of slowing down.
In general, accidents happen here every minute. And we did not meet a single car - be it an old Russian Lada "five" or a latest-model BMW - on which the intimate life of Cairo's roads had not left its indelible marks. And the police look at all this philosophically. As proof, we were told the following story. An employee of the Ukrainian embassy drove out into the city in a brand-new, just-purchased Mercedes. He pulled up to the nearest intersection, stopped, and then an Egyptian on a moped literally fell on him. A noticeable dent appeared on the shiny fender of the car. The injured Mercedes owner called a policeman, who arrived and indignantly declared: "Why did you call? No casualties - so everything is fine." That is what he said, the shameless pharaoh, meaning, all okay. And he proudly walked away, to regulate the unregulated traffic with those very gestures from ancient Egyptian frescoes.
Let's Have a Smoke, Comrade, One at a Time...
In places like this one, bearing the name Khan el-Khalili, you clearly realize that Egyptians are sybarites, a people who love pleasures and are used to enjoying life. Among them you rarely meet gloomy, withdrawn people. And in this place, over a cup of coffee in the Eastern style, tea with cardamom, a hookah from which a light intoxicating smoke curls, it generally seems that time has stopped, and everyone around is absolutely happy and content with life. In such places, hung with carpets, gleaming handmade trays, furnished with low comfortable small tables on curved legs and incredibly comfortable wide benches, on which you can even stretch out if necessary, Egyptians - whether men or women, gray-haired elders or green schoolchildren, businessmen or street traders - necessarily drop in during the day. Here there are no social, gender, age, or other differences. Here all are respected people. Here time stops, affairs and cares recede into the background, and the main thing remains - a leisurely conversation in the circle of equals, in the circle of compatriots, in the circle of Egyptians.
And yet Egyptians live one day at a time. They have a saying about this: “Let me live today, and tomorrow you can kill me.” This trait of Egyptians was noticed long ago; as early as the 14th century an Arab historian wrote: “They have no habit of storing supplies, as is customary in other countries; they buy food daily, morning and evening, at the markets.” He also noted that Egyptians are inclined to spend their time in pleasures. Perhaps it is precisely in order to learn this enviable skill of the country’s hosts that guests from all over the world flock here. The pyramids are, of course, wonderful; the pharaohs are astonishing; diving is magnificent; but the main thing is to learn, at least for a short holiday period, to enjoy life. Isn’t that wonderful?
Polyglots in spite of themselves
Almost all residents of this country, if not born orators, at least will never be at a loss for words. We were amazed at how briskly, coherently, and vividly randomly chosen passers-by on the street for an interview expressed themselves — people of the most varied professions, different incomes, and cultural levels.
The owner of virtually any stall or shop in Cairo, Hurghada, or Luxor — those places where the influx of tourists is greatest — will address you in quite decent Russian. But do not think that in Egypt only speakers of the great and mighty language are greeted in their native tongue. Germans, French, and Americans will also not be deprived, because, unlike many of our linguists, almost every Egyptian merchant is a polyglot. He perfectly understands: no knowledge of languages — no money, because there are hundreds of stalls selling the same goods as his, and the buyer must be convinced that only the goods he purchases in this very store will make him happy.
By the way, what about the Ukrainian language? — you ask. Dear compatriots, do not worry; the Egyptians are already preparing for your invasion. In any case, the chef of one of the restaurants wished us 'smachnoho'; in one of the shops we were thanked for a purchase with 'diakuyu!' And when we received the answer 'nishtyak!' to a question from one of the polyglots, it became clear — the residents of this country have a gre-e-eat future.
Business Egyptian-style
However, knowledge of foreign languages is not the only virtue of Egyptian merchants. How inventive they are! How resourceful! Realizing that entreaties like “Come in, brother! You don’t have to buy, just look” no longer work, salesmen resort to little tricks. For example, they ask potential customers passing by to write their impressions of the shop window in a guest book. Tourists, softened by the hot Egyptian sun, without suspecting a catch, go in and begin to write diligently. Meanwhile, as an unobtrusive background, the verbal flow of the shop’s most amiable owner murmurs, telling something like the following: “In my shop you can buy natural flower essence, obtained by the same method as the lotus essence was made for the Egyptian pharaohs, and with which Tutankhamun was sprinkled before being placed in the sarcophagus. Our product is bought by the French, and in the shop you can see essences from which the world’s most famous perfumes are made — ‘Chanel No. 5’, ‘Clima’, ‘Laura Bernadotti’, etc. Anyone can make perfume himself; you just need to add water and alcohol to the essence in a certain proportion. To all European women I advise buying the essence ‘Arabian Night’. Its drops should be applied here and here (you have probably guessed where), and then your husband will blaze with even greater love for you. And he will never leave you.”
And already the hand reaches for the wallet, and you buy that very ‘Arabian Night’ to bind your faithful spouse to yourself, who had not even thought of slipping away from you. But they part, both pleased with each other: the seller counts his profit, and the trusting tourist feverishly tries to remember how much of what to drip into the cherished little bottle so that the Egyptian essence turns into real French perfume. In short, hocus-pocus...
Sharks of Capitalism
However, all these tricks of small traders are childish babble compared to what the sharks of Egyptian capitalism come up with. And now I urge those who are planning to visit this remarkable country in the near future to be especially attentive.
So, you have arrived in Cairo and, of course, on the very first day you want to see the most important thing — the celebrated Cairo Museum, where you can see the treasures of the pharaohs and the pharaohs themselves (though in rather shriveled form) and, of course, the famous pyramids. Finally, the excursion is over; you get on the bus and look forward to a meeting with one of the wonders of the world. Already, beyond the modern city buildings, you can discern the majestic silhouettes of the pyramids; it seems that just a few more minutes — and you will chip off a piece of them as a keepsake...
But that was not to be. Suddenly the guide announces: “Wouldn’t you like to stop by a gold factory and learn the ancient traditions of making gold jewelry that the pharaohs themselves wore?” And the whole bus, in a single impulse, exclaims: “Of course, we would!” The gold factory turns out to be an ordinary jewelry store, where nimble salesmen convince you in a matter of minutes that you cannot leave for home without buying a bracelet with an image of a scarab beetle, bringing wealth, a pendant with the head of Tutankhamun, bringing happiness, or a ring with a charming little head of the equally charming Nefertiti, making women just as charming. And since the guide “honestly” warned you on the bus that you should bargain, you knock about twenty dollars off the initial price and leave quite pleased with yourself and your profitable purchase.
And so again the outlines of the pyramids loomed ahead, now within arm's reach, but again the guide's insinuating voice is heard, this time offering to initiate you into the secrets of papyrus. Five minutes - and you are at the "papyrus factory." Here history repeats itself. Breezy Russian women will tell you in a few words about the art of making papyrus and convince you that if you do not inscribe your name, the names of your relatives, close ones, your boss at work, your neighbor on the landing in special ovals on the papyri, called "cartouches" in the French manner, then you will not see happiness either in this world or the next. And so people part with their money easily and quickly.
There will be another stop, this time to fortify yourself before the momentous moment of meeting the pyramids. Naturally, at a special restaurant where "food is prepared according to ancient, pharaonic (!) recipes," with dancing and folk chants.
In general, looking ahead, I'll say: you will have no more than an hour to see the pyramids, your wallets will become considerably lighter, and your guide's pockets - on the contrary, because from the sale of all these "pharaonic treasures" (which, as will soon turn out, you bought at an exorbitant price), and from the revenue of the group visiting this very "unique" restaurant, he gets his own, rather decent percentage. But what can you do: cunning is also a national trait of the Egyptians, and one must pay for understanding this.
And yet do not get the impression that the Egyptians are an idle and cunning people. They are also great toilers, skilled craftsmen, patient workers. The sermon of patience and restraint remains to this day one of the most widespread in Egypt. And in one of the little shops selling fruit, we heard from a vendor such a maxim: "I will endure until patience itself loses its patience."
For it was the ancestors of these very people - equally patient, inventive, skilled, cheerful, wily, and life-loving - who created everything that has brought and continues to bring Egypt unfading worldwide glory. So the pharaohs can sleep peacefully.