While we were in Egypt we stayed in two hotels—one a five star and one a “three star,” but I wouldn’t have been so generous. The first hotel we stayed in was the Pyramisa, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. It was at this hotel that I made my (female) Arab friend that wanted my number, they had excellent breakfasts and friendly staff, and the hotel was clean. Like really clean. The hot water and the water pressure worked, the air conditioning actually cooled the room down, and we had a beautiful balcony that overlooked the city. The location was great too—not right in the middle of downtown Cairo, but close enough to walk to many of the touristy sites and even use your Arabic often. The outside of the building was a hideous peach color, but it was visible from far away so you knew how to get there when you got close.
After staying in the Pyramisa for a glorious three days (and probably paying way too much for it too—but the sign in the room said it was only $45/night for double occupancy!), we rode an overnight train to Luxor and back. This was absolutely dreadful. In addition to trying to sleep on a rollicking train and shaving my legs in the 8” sink, as well as two nights without showering after two full days of touring Luxor and Cairo, I was also dreadfully sick (yes, I finally got the curse of the Nile and was sick for several days) and the bathroom on the train was disgusting (what can you expect from something that flushes straight onto the tracks below? In addition to being filthy, the toilet seat was on springs and was at about a 45 degree angle unless you sat on it—making “hovering” very difficult, because you either had to hover above or below the seat!). By the time we returned from Luxor to Cairo at 6 am Friday morning, the only thing that most of us could think about was a shower—and then maybe some sleep before we had to go to church at 8:30.
This time we were staying in the Cosmopolitan hotel in the middle of downtown Cairo. This hotel was probably Dil’s idea, as it was filthy and in the middle of “Arabicness” (meaning that we had to speak Arabic all the time to get around, as the hotel attendants didn’t speak much English). I walked into my room, threw my stuff on the bed, and immediately walked into the bathroom for a quick shower before church. Imagine my disgust and horror when upon entering, I immediately killed three cockroaches. Thoroughly disgusted, I pulled the shower curtain back and saw mold so thick on the curtain that it was stuck to itself and could not be pulled straight.
I quickly surmised that it was an excellent idea that they took us to this hotel after the train ride to Luxor and back, so that we were so filthy that such disgusting conditions were tolerable. Fighting back the bile in my throat, I turned on the shower, only to discover that we had no hot water (it did come on after about five minutes). I guess my bathroom at the Brittany was a precursor of what was to come!
The next day I told myself, if I kill another cockroach I am going home! Arabic is not worth this to me! And then I killed another cockroach. And then I realized, this is like mission prep, right? And then I killed another cockroach. And then that night I walked into my hotel room, and my roommate was sitting on the bed, white faced and looking like she might throw up. She told me that she had just killed 10 and hadn't even gotten them all because they ran away too fast.
And then I used my overpowering presence to demand a new room from the hotel management.
Actually, I meekly asked my Arabic teacher if he would ask the hotel management if I could have a new room, because I realized I don't even know the word for bugs--let alone cockroaches!
The first room they gave us as an option had a dead cockroach lying in the middle of the floor of the bathroom. We closed the door and walked away.
The second room, while cockroach free, seemed to have a problem with the air conditioning. You see, instead of blowing cold air, which is what air conditioning is supposed to do, it blew humidity.
No joke.
When I woke up at 4:00 am on the morning we were flying out to Jordan, it was like 100 degrees in the room.
When Spencer, my Arabic teacher, asked if we (the students) had any small change left that we wanted to tip the hotel staff with, I said, "Are you kidding me? I am never coming back to this place again!!!"
Famous last words? I hope not.
5.06.2008
5.04.2008
On being an attraction at the zoo
4/29
Ginny, my friend who went to the Jerusalem Center spring term of last year, and I decided to go to the zoo today. We have a lot more freedom and free time in Egypt with the Arabic program than we ever had with the JC, and we decided to take advantage of it by slumming in a place where not much English would be spoken.
Ginny had a friend who was visiting Cairo and wanted to meet up with us at the zoo, so we called her from a pay phone and told her to meet us at the entrance of the zoo, thinking that we would wait for her at the entrance of the zoo and then walk around together (she doesn’t speak any Arabic—this becomes important later).
After waiting for about two minutes sitting on a bench inside the gate, an Arab family walked up to us and asked if they could take a picture of us with their baby daughter (she was probably one and a half). This is becoming more and more common and acceptable to me—families will be walking around, see some strange foreign girls, and give us their baby daughter and take a picture! Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to ask them to take one with my camera also (I have gotten better at this!).
After waiting for another twenty minutes or so, we walked up to the entrance and asked the guards if they had seen another American standing around, because we said we would meet her at the gate. Laughing, they told us that there were four gates—one on each side of the zoo! We laughed too, even though we didn’t think it was funny!
This was turning out to be a big problem. We left instructions with the guards at the gate that if they saw an American girl, to tell her to wait and we would come back for her. Since the guards spoke no English and she spoke no Arabic, we taught the guards three words to say to her—“Two” “friends” “here”.
We started walking around the zoo to find the other gates, and quickly realized that instead of watching the hippos, lions, flamingos, etc, the people were watching us. I joked to Ginny that we were the main attraction and we should start asking people for baqshish (more on that later). All jokes aside, everyone turned to stare at us as we walked past, from the groups of leering shabab (young men who do nothing but stand around in big groups and stare at people) to small children who would run up to us and either say the three English words they knew or speak to us rapidly in Arabic (and be shocked when we responded) to the young couples and mixed gender groups, where the men would try to impress the women by saying something clever to us in English, like “How are you” or “Where you from” (the girls were always incredibly impressed, of course).
After finally getting ahold of Ginny’s friend (by using a guard’s cell phone twice and also a random woman’s phone at the gate of the zoo), we realized that she would be about twenty more minutes so we decided to walk around the zoo (and actually look at the animals—after we had walked back and forth between the two main gates about four or five times, seeing the same people each time, some caretaker finally asked us what we were doing, walking back and forth on the sidewalk! I wondered if they would believe us if we told them we were exercising…).
The zoo in Cairo used to be one of the biggest zoos in the world, so I hear, but it has kind of fallen into a bit of, shall we say, disrepair. If you are an animal rights activist you probably should stop reading right now.
The first place we stopped at had nothing other than cats in cages—not lions and tigers, but housecats, like Siamese and others. A “guard” waved us back into a “special” place where we could see the cats from the back and touch them, and then he took us to an even more special place, where a cage was hidden under a blanket. He dramatically lifted the blanket, opened the cage, and took out…a dirty white house cat! It was one of the most anti-climactic things I have ever experienced. Then, he allowed us to hold the cat, and of course we acted as though we were incredibly privileged. Then, we paid him off and left.
Ginny, my friend who went to the Jerusalem Center spring term of last year, and I decided to go to the zoo today. We have a lot more freedom and free time in Egypt with the Arabic program than we ever had with the JC, and we decided to take advantage of it by slumming in a place where not much English would be spoken.
Ginny had a friend who was visiting Cairo and wanted to meet up with us at the zoo, so we called her from a pay phone and told her to meet us at the entrance of the zoo, thinking that we would wait for her at the entrance of the zoo and then walk around together (she doesn’t speak any Arabic—this becomes important later).
After waiting for about two minutes sitting on a bench inside the gate, an Arab family walked up to us and asked if they could take a picture of us with their baby daughter (she was probably one and a half). This is becoming more and more common and acceptable to me—families will be walking around, see some strange foreign girls, and give us their baby daughter and take a picture! Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to ask them to take one with my camera also (I have gotten better at this!).
After waiting for another twenty minutes or so, we walked up to the entrance and asked the guards if they had seen another American standing around, because we said we would meet her at the gate. Laughing, they told us that there were four gates—one on each side of the zoo! We laughed too, even though we didn’t think it was funny!
This was turning out to be a big problem. We left instructions with the guards at the gate that if they saw an American girl, to tell her to wait and we would come back for her. Since the guards spoke no English and she spoke no Arabic, we taught the guards three words to say to her—“Two” “friends” “here”.
We started walking around the zoo to find the other gates, and quickly realized that instead of watching the hippos, lions, flamingos, etc, the people were watching us. I joked to Ginny that we were the main attraction and we should start asking people for baqshish (more on that later). All jokes aside, everyone turned to stare at us as we walked past, from the groups of leering shabab (young men who do nothing but stand around in big groups and stare at people) to small children who would run up to us and either say the three English words they knew or speak to us rapidly in Arabic (and be shocked when we responded) to the young couples and mixed gender groups, where the men would try to impress the women by saying something clever to us in English, like “How are you” or “Where you from” (the girls were always incredibly impressed, of course).
After finally getting ahold of Ginny’s friend (by using a guard’s cell phone twice and also a random woman’s phone at the gate of the zoo), we realized that she would be about twenty more minutes so we decided to walk around the zoo (and actually look at the animals—after we had walked back and forth between the two main gates about four or five times, seeing the same people each time, some caretaker finally asked us what we were doing, walking back and forth on the sidewalk! I wondered if they would believe us if we told them we were exercising…).
The zoo in Cairo used to be one of the biggest zoos in the world, so I hear, but it has kind of fallen into a bit of, shall we say, disrepair. If you are an animal rights activist you probably should stop reading right now.
The first place we stopped at had nothing other than cats in cages—not lions and tigers, but housecats, like Siamese and others. A “guard” waved us back into a “special” place where we could see the cats from the back and touch them, and then he took us to an even more special place, where a cage was hidden under a blanket. He dramatically lifted the blanket, opened the cage, and took out…a dirty white house cat! It was one of the most anti-climactic things I have ever experienced. Then, he allowed us to hold the cat, and of course we acted as though we were incredibly privileged. Then, we paid him off and left.
The price to get into the zoo is only one Egyptian pound (there are a little more than five pounds in a dollar) but if you want to do “special” things you have to have more money—how much depends on how good you are at arguing prices. “Tipping” in Cairo is called baqshish, and everyone in the touristy areas demands it for little favors they do for you. Since we were obviously foreign visiting Cairo, we were obviously rich, so we got a lot of offers for personal “guides” (who take you to all the “special” places—but they are lame, because then you have to pay both them and the guard when you get your “special” privileges) but we refused them all. After our experience with the cat, we realized that we were only going to pay for really special privileges, since we had both paid the guard a pound to hold the cat (way too much).
Throughout the day, we got to feed monkeys and an elephant for cheap and see things like flamingos, hippos, and other zoo creatures. The best part though? Holding a lion. As we were walking past the lion cages, a “guide” called out to us and asked us if we wanted to see the lions. We agreed, and he took us into this “special” room where a large lion was sitting in a cage, about five feet away from us. The guard took us right up to the lion where we all posed for pictures holding his mane.
These animals in the “special” places were most likely heavily drugged and heavily beaten because they seemed almost tame—or drunk. Anyway, the didn’t do anything except sit there as we grabbed their manes and put our faces next to them (see the look of terror on my face?).
There, we each paid five pounds for the “privilege” of touching the lion, and as we walked out of the cage we saw an Arab family there, waiting to go into the cage also. Next we went to another cage where they actually let the “baby” (seven months old) lion out of the cage. I was terrified—I am not sure if it is apparent!
After the lion was safely back in its cage, we got in an argument with the guards about how much we should pay them. They told me that since no one was in there and it was so special, we should pay them a lot more than the ten pounds a person I was going to give them. They told me, “At the circus they have to pay 100 pounds for a picture—and you got to hold the lions!” “Are we at the circus?” I wanted to ask them, but finally gave in and paid them both 15 pounds (still much less than they wanted, but I guess I argued well enough by telling them it wasn’t as special as they were pretending).
All in all, we each spent only a couple of dollars to do all of those “special” things!
4.30.2008
Street savvy in Cairo
28 April 2008
Traffic in Cairo is pretty intense. By intense, I mean Cairo is the second biggest city in the world, but the streets seem to be extra small—at least for how many cars they try to fit in each one! And the drivers never follow the street signs, and the lines on the road are more to differentiate between the sidewalk and the road than to actually show cars a “lane” they should drive in.
For example, in the US, you can find two and three lane roads, with many more lanes in bigger cities. People usually stay within their lane, and they signal when they want to change (sometimes).
In Cairo, on a three lane road I have seen up to six or seven “lanes” of cars that could fit across (the cars are smaller here so they can fit more in). The lanes don’t stay consistent, either, with five cars in one section, and in front of them six lanes of cars. Most, if not all cars here have scratches along the sides from scraping other cars as they are driving along, and the bumpers are a mess.
Needless to say, crossing the streets as a pedestrian is quite an exciting experience. To cross, you have to start across the road, dodging cars, and continually stop as other cars pass by you until you get to the other side. Last year when I was here our tour guide told us that we would probably be unable to get across and that we should just follow Egyptians. (I didn’t even try it.)
Last night, however, as my friends and I were taking advantage of “slumming” opportunities in downtown Cairo, I led the way in crossing the road. I realized I had succeeded when I saw an Egyptian following us! (True, she was an old woman that had a hard time walking, but the fact remains that instead of following Egyptians, an Egyptian followed me!)
Expensive water and a new friend
28 April 2008
Yesterday I was grumbling and complaining about how expensive the bottled water was from the hotel. The day before I had purchased a liter water for 4 Egyptian pounds (the exchange rate is about 5 pounds/dollar) from a store right around the corner from the hotel. However, the next morning when I tried to buy the same liter of water from the hotel, it cost me 13 pounds. I was outraged at how much I had just spent (even though it would have cost more than that in the States—it is the principle that is important!), but I had asked for the water from one of the kitchen/concierge (whatever they call them) people, and each person I spoke with was so amazed that I spoke Arabic (good thing too, because their English was not that great).
This morning when I walked in to eat breakfast, all of the people that I spoke to in Arabic yesterday were standing at the door welcoming people. They said hello to me in Arabic and I responded happily, thinking that I had accomplished something great because the hotel people remembered me.However, then as I was eating breakfast the woman who had helped me yesterday came over and started talking to me in Arabic. She wanted to know where I had learned Arabic, how long I was staying in Cairo, etc etc, and then asked if we could be friends.
Naturally, I said yes!
So, she gave me her telephone number and asked me to call her when I was in Cairo again, and then asked for my phone number! Unfortunately, I don’t have one yet, but she told me to call her when I got one.This was an exciting experience because one: I made a very nice friend just by speaking a little Arabic; two: I understood a lot of what she said even though the restaurant was noisy and I couldn’t hear her half the time, and three: I was able to respond correctly most of the time in Arabic!
I guess that water was worth every pound I paid!
Yesterday I was grumbling and complaining about how expensive the bottled water was from the hotel. The day before I had purchased a liter water for 4 Egyptian pounds (the exchange rate is about 5 pounds/dollar) from a store right around the corner from the hotel. However, the next morning when I tried to buy the same liter of water from the hotel, it cost me 13 pounds. I was outraged at how much I had just spent (even though it would have cost more than that in the States—it is the principle that is important!), but I had asked for the water from one of the kitchen/concierge (whatever they call them) people, and each person I spoke with was so amazed that I spoke Arabic (good thing too, because their English was not that great).
This morning when I walked in to eat breakfast, all of the people that I spoke to in Arabic yesterday were standing at the door welcoming people. They said hello to me in Arabic and I responded happily, thinking that I had accomplished something great because the hotel people remembered me.However, then as I was eating breakfast the woman who had helped me yesterday came over and started talking to me in Arabic. She wanted to know where I had learned Arabic, how long I was staying in Cairo, etc etc, and then asked if we could be friends.
Naturally, I said yes!
So, she gave me her telephone number and asked me to call her when I was in Cairo again, and then asked for my phone number! Unfortunately, I don’t have one yet, but she told me to call her when I got one.This was an exciting experience because one: I made a very nice friend just by speaking a little Arabic; two: I understood a lot of what she said even though the restaurant was noisy and I couldn’t hear her half the time, and three: I was able to respond correctly most of the time in Arabic!
I guess that water was worth every pound I paid!
Electrical outlets and expensive appliances…
28 April 2008
As soon as we arrived in Cairo I went to my hotel room, showered, and began to fix my hair. I had no problem with my dual voltage blow-dryer, but my expensive straightener was another story. In the States, it heats up to 410 degrees in about 1 minute…and here, with the voltage going through it twice as quickly, it was at about 600 degrees in one minute. Unfortunately, I did not realize that it was so hot until I smelled my hair burning…and then looked down and say that the desk had melted where the flat iron was sitting! The next morning when I turned it on it no longer worked—I could feel the electricity pulsing through the plates (kind of a scary experience!) but no heat.
Oh well, all part of the experience, right?
As soon as we arrived in Cairo I went to my hotel room, showered, and began to fix my hair. I had no problem with my dual voltage blow-dryer, but my expensive straightener was another story. In the States, it heats up to 410 degrees in about 1 minute…and here, with the voltage going through it twice as quickly, it was at about 600 degrees in one minute. Unfortunately, I did not realize that it was so hot until I smelled my hair burning…and then looked down and say that the desk had melted where the flat iron was sitting! The next morning when I turned it on it no longer worked—I could feel the electricity pulsing through the plates (kind of a scary experience!) but no heat.
Oh well, all part of the experience, right?
I’m here. I’m safe. I’m happy.
27 April 2008
The trip has gone off mostly without hitch so far—surprisingly! They didn’t even weigh my bags at the Salt Lake airport, and I was sitting in my seat at the gate less than half an hour after getting to the airport.
At the Chicago airport, I showed my genius and brilliant navigational skills (after remembering my mom’s story about running all the way through the Chicago airport when she was very pregnant and they had a short connection time only to realize there was a tram) and took the tram. Walked right to the gate, in fact, and showed others in my group how to get there. (Thanks, Mom, for the story—it saved me today!)
On my flight from Chicago to Vienna, I sat by a very nice man who was returning home to India. Since he spoke English (kind of), we talked about India. I kept asking him questions and he kept answering, which was an exciting experience. He probably thought he was fluent in English, but I could only understand half of what he was saying and I am pretty sure he didn’t always answer my questions correctly. I realized that this is where I am in Arabic—that awkward foreigner who doesn’t really know what he/she is saying, but talks anyway.
Vienna to Cairo I sat in front of a little Egyptian boy, probably three years old. He was adorable and we played games between the seat (we were both sitting by the window) for much of the time. They mostly consisted of him reaching between the seat and touching my arm and trying to pull his hand away before I could tag him back. I was hoping to get some Arabic practice, but when I spoke to him in Arabic he didn’t answer. In fact, he never said anything intelligible except “mama” and “bye!” But he was still cute, and helped me realize that I don’t know very much “little kid” Arabic. I can talk about my studies all day, but play peek-a-boo with a small child? How many times can you say “izzayak” and keep their attention?
The weather in Cairo is beautiful—about 70 degrees. Thanks for praying for me, guys! And, tomorrow is the Orthodox Christian Easter and they are in the middle of “Spring Holiday,” so the traffic wasn’t that bad from the airport and we got to the hotel in 1/3 of the usual time. Did I mention that my hotel has working air conditioning? Does life get any better than this?
My “slumming” skills are improving. “Slumming” is what Dil calls walking around the non-touristy parts of the city and finding chances to speak Arabic with the natives. At the hotel I spoke for about ten minutes with the hotel clerk in Arabic (I think it was my “Egyptian eyes” that drew him in—he told me that I have beautiful eyes and that Arabs love green eyes!) (I have blue eyes). I am not feeling the culture shock I felt last year when I was here for the first time. When the security guards and clerks say “Let me help you, beautiful girl,” I just speak to them in Arabic. All the chances I can get to speak are necessary, right?
I have obviously changed my mind a lot over the past year because I think Cairo is beautiful. Wow, did I just say that? I guess I hadn’t realized how much I missed the constant staring at me back in the States!
Well, as my mother always said when I was little, morning comes early, and we have a big day tomorrow. And hopefully my blogs will get a bit more interesting…perhaps when I am less tired?
The trip has gone off mostly without hitch so far—surprisingly! They didn’t even weigh my bags at the Salt Lake airport, and I was sitting in my seat at the gate less than half an hour after getting to the airport.
At the Chicago airport, I showed my genius and brilliant navigational skills (after remembering my mom’s story about running all the way through the Chicago airport when she was very pregnant and they had a short connection time only to realize there was a tram) and took the tram. Walked right to the gate, in fact, and showed others in my group how to get there. (Thanks, Mom, for the story—it saved me today!)
On my flight from Chicago to Vienna, I sat by a very nice man who was returning home to India. Since he spoke English (kind of), we talked about India. I kept asking him questions and he kept answering, which was an exciting experience. He probably thought he was fluent in English, but I could only understand half of what he was saying and I am pretty sure he didn’t always answer my questions correctly. I realized that this is where I am in Arabic—that awkward foreigner who doesn’t really know what he/she is saying, but talks anyway.
Vienna to Cairo I sat in front of a little Egyptian boy, probably three years old. He was adorable and we played games between the seat (we were both sitting by the window) for much of the time. They mostly consisted of him reaching between the seat and touching my arm and trying to pull his hand away before I could tag him back. I was hoping to get some Arabic practice, but when I spoke to him in Arabic he didn’t answer. In fact, he never said anything intelligible except “mama” and “bye!” But he was still cute, and helped me realize that I don’t know very much “little kid” Arabic. I can talk about my studies all day, but play peek-a-boo with a small child? How many times can you say “izzayak” and keep their attention?
The weather in Cairo is beautiful—about 70 degrees. Thanks for praying for me, guys! And, tomorrow is the Orthodox Christian Easter and they are in the middle of “Spring Holiday,” so the traffic wasn’t that bad from the airport and we got to the hotel in 1/3 of the usual time. Did I mention that my hotel has working air conditioning? Does life get any better than this?
My “slumming” skills are improving. “Slumming” is what Dil calls walking around the non-touristy parts of the city and finding chances to speak Arabic with the natives. At the hotel I spoke for about ten minutes with the hotel clerk in Arabic (I think it was my “Egyptian eyes” that drew him in—he told me that I have beautiful eyes and that Arabs love green eyes!) (I have blue eyes). I am not feeling the culture shock I felt last year when I was here for the first time. When the security guards and clerks say “Let me help you, beautiful girl,” I just speak to them in Arabic. All the chances I can get to speak are necessary, right?
I have obviously changed my mind a lot over the past year because I think Cairo is beautiful. Wow, did I just say that? I guess I hadn’t realized how much I missed the constant staring at me back in the States!
Well, as my mother always said when I was little, morning comes early, and we have a big day tomorrow. And hopefully my blogs will get a bit more interesting…perhaps when I am less tired?
4.28.2008
Egypt: Welcome Back
I am in Egypt. The internet cafe I am using does not have a spot for my flashdrive (at least, not a workable spot--it is just an empty hole) so I can't upload the blog I wrote last night. And the internet at the hotel is a dollar a minute. Well, I guess everything is not cheap in Egypt!
4.24.2008
Flashbacks: Egyptian Eyes
When I was in Egypt I tried as hard as I could to avoid eye contact with the men...actually, with anyone. However, old habits die hard, and I look everyone in the eye. In America, this means that you are confident and assertive and well-qualified for whatever you are doing, even if it is just buying groceries. However, in Egypt (and most places in the Middle East) it often means that you are coming onto someone--at least it is usually interpreted that way.
Needless to say, this was a big problem for me.
Although I didn't have blond curly hair and didn't look specifically "American" (I had about 20 different nationalities assigned to me by the Egyptians, including asking if I was from Holland, Europe, etc...but not usually America) so I didn't get as many offers for marriage as the other girls, each person, it seemed like, had to compliment me on my "Egyptian eyes."
Now, I am not sure what qualifies eyes as particularly "Egyptian," but at least ten different people told me that I looked "Egyptian" because I had "Egyptian eyes." I was embarassed, of course, because it meant I hadn't kept my eyes on the ground and had been looking people in the eye again.
However, each shopkeeper wanted to give me a discount because I had "pretty Egyptian eyes," and most marked the price down even more if I smiled! I guess I don't have to be good at bartering--if I look someone in the eye, the price is immediately cut in half for me!
Needless to say, this was a big problem for me.
Although I didn't have blond curly hair and didn't look specifically "American" (I had about 20 different nationalities assigned to me by the Egyptians, including asking if I was from Holland, Europe, etc...but not usually America) so I didn't get as many offers for marriage as the other girls, each person, it seemed like, had to compliment me on my "Egyptian eyes."
Now, I am not sure what qualifies eyes as particularly "Egyptian," but at least ten different people told me that I looked "Egyptian" because I had "Egyptian eyes." I was embarassed, of course, because it meant I hadn't kept my eyes on the ground and had been looking people in the eye again.
However, each shopkeeper wanted to give me a discount because I had "pretty Egyptian eyes," and most marked the price down even more if I smiled! I guess I don't have to be good at bartering--if I look someone in the eye, the price is immediately cut in half for me!
4.23.2008
Flashbacks: "Special Student Price"
Each time I ask this I am reminded of shopping in the Middle East. I must admit, when I first got to the Middle East, my bartering skills were downright horrid. I had to wait to find out what a good price was and then go and barter for a similar price, because I didn't know if I was getting ripped off or offending the person by offering to pay such a low price.
However, in each place I went in Jerusalem, I was instantly recognized as a BYU student and, as such, deserving of the "special student price!" This sometimes was quite a bit higher than the actual price, but I guess they figured if they could pretend that they were giving us a good deal, we would fall for it. Of course, I totally played this one up, saying that as a student, I didn't have the funds (or any use) for their 30x40 foot floor rugs, or the random statues of false Egyptian gods sold at each tourist destination in Egypt.
I do, however, think that I am going to have to use this one again, asking for the "special student price" at each store in Jordan! (And hopefully, my bartering skills will be slightly improved since last time I was there!)
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