The tourist guide

Our tale takes place at an Egyptian market in Cairo, the capital city of Egypt. Market places in this country are always bustling with life and energy. Tourists from all over the world are seen exploring these markets, often accompanied by guides. The Egyptians are generous and helpful people on the whole. However, there are (as is the case in many societies) a few elements that do not quite fit into the system. Some guides, (not all) who accompany tourists, are examples of this. Since, they are not always chaps who wish to make an honest living without causing harm to any faction of society.

There was a man named “Omar” who happened to show my parents and me around the city throughout our stay in Egypt. We had known him, for a little more than 48 hours, yet his true nature seemed to reveal itself at the smallest opportunity that arose. We were unknowingly made to pay for his expenses as well as ours, he would not only eat with us but would not leave us alone at all.

Omar always wore the same pink- striped shirt and brown trouser with the same white cloth wrapped around his forehead. He was a tall, lean man with an oval shaped face who wore round spectacles. He was completely bald. One couldn’t say he had a real sense of humor. But whenever he was on the verge of being caught at his tricks he would cover up by singing the lines “Oh, my daddy…” over and over again. Which I must admit I found a little disturbing. On first impression we noted that he was money-minded and greedy.

Now, perhaps the most common way for a tourist guide to make some extra money is to demand commission for everything. Tourists that do not speak English let alone Arabic are easily taken for a ride by one such as Omar.

On the afternoon of our visit to the market place, we were met with by a cheerful and highly enthusiastic Omar, come to take us. Although we had a particular market in mind that we wished to visit, he overruled us. He claimed that he could help us get good bargains since he was well acquainted with most shop owners, at the market he was taking us to. We trusted him for he seemed pretty convincing.

All seemed well as we made our way along the crowded streets, lined with shops selling miscellaneous items on either side. These shops were owned by commoners that had whole families to support.

While we continued to explore the street and find a shop of our interest, Omar appeared and disappeared at regular intervals. One minute he would be muttering something walking beside us and the next, he’d be chatting with some other Egyptian just around the corner. It became clear to us that he did indeed; know everyone in this market place.

After a while we found a shop that really appealed to us. Omar immediately showed up from nowhere and we found him speaking angrily to the shop keeper inside. We didn’t understand the conversation since it was in Arabic. The tone indicated that it was nothing close to pleasant. After some time, the distraught shop keeper came to attend to his on looking customers. Omar pulls my father aside informing him that the shopkeeper is a cheat and insisting that we leave immediately. My father refused to believe him and it became evident that something was definitely wrong. We decided to stay on in that shop, while an upset Omar walked away from us. We did not expect what happened next. The shopkeeper’s eyes filled with tears and he had a warm smile of gratitude on his face. At once we could guess what was going on all along. Apparently, Omar had demanded a heavy commission from the shopkeeper for having brought us to his shop in particular. This was false, since we went there of our own accord. It all became clear to us when, the shopkeeper further explained that this was not the first time, that Omar brought tourists regularly always demanding a high commission from all shops on that street. By this time all neighboring shop-owners came out on the street creating a din, supporting this man in his claim about Omar’s methods.

For not having fallen prey to Omar’s ways, the shop-keeper was grateful to us and gave each of us alabaster scarab beetles as a token of gratitude. I can still vividly remember the shop-keeper holding my father’s hands in his, with tears in his eyes. On leaving his shop, we promised that we would do what we could and help resolve the situation somehow.

Before we could wonder where Omar had gone off to, we saw him emerge from a side street outside the marketplace. My father told him that we were aware of his foul ways. My mother and I displayed an attitude of indifference towards him. He, on the other hand, behaved as if nothing had happened at all. I presume that it was Omar’s last visit to that market place. As soon as we got to our hotel, my parents and I extensively discussed the matter and then decided that it was best to leave a complaint regarding Omar’s conduct as a guide with the tour operators.

For whatever goodness is in his heart, Omar will have learnt a valuable lesson from this experience and will refrain from asking commission from poor shop owners to satiate his greed for money henceforth.

I do not know what has become of Omar but I hope that he has understood the wrong in taking a part of an innocent shopkeeper’s hard-earned livelihood from him.