I am in Cairo, Egypt right now, and, let me tell you, the traffic here is something else. It’s no wonder: Cairo has one of the highest population densities in the world, with more than fifty thousand people per square mile. Buses, private cars, taxis, and motorcycles all jockey space on the roads, and any unoccupied stretch of pavement is quickly filled.
As you might imagine, being a pedestrian in Cairo is nothing short of terrifying. Reaching the Egyptian Museum, one of the obvious highlights of any visit to Cairo, is particularly challenging because the museum is located at the head of Tahrir Square. Tahrir Square is near Cairo’s center and one of the most congested intersections in the country, and, in the post-revolution era, it has considerable police presence and is undergoing construction.
It was in that context that we stood on the edge of Tahrir Square, waiting for an opening in traffic to dart across the street, when a friendly-looking older gentleman ushered us across with him. He laughed about the traffic situation and shook his head, telling us it would take years to acclimate ourselves. We smiled and thanked him, and he asked us if we had been to the museum yet. When we told him that we were on our way, he shook his head and pointed to his watch, telling us that the museum was only open to Egyptians at that time. We were dubious that the museum was exclusively reserved for Egyptians over the noon hour, but we could clearly see a group of foreign tourists milling around in front of the museum, looking at their watches. The friendly man told us that he was in a hurry, but he could point us in the direction of another museum where we could wait out the “Egyptians-only” time — and, because it was really hot in the sun and we still had one more imposing street to cross before we reached the museum, we followed him.
And he led us to a “papyrus museum.” This isn’t my first rodeo – it’s not even my first time to Cairo – and I know that a papyrus museum is actually a souvenir shop. We laughed at our naivety, conducted a brief, polite browse of the items in the shop, and then made our way to the museum, which we found open to anyone willing to pay the price of admission. (Oh, and those tourists milling around out front? Waiting for their tour bus.)
This incident isn’t an anomaly. In fact, the friendly older gentleman who led us to the papyrus museum wasn’t even the only friendly older gentleman who tried to distract us from reaching the Egyptian Museum. On the streets of Cairo – as on the streets of many other cities we have visited in Africa, and I’m sure as on the streets of large cities worldwide – there are plenty of “friendly locals” who use their “friendliness” to prey on tourists.
Of course, there are also genuinely friendly locals who want to help and interact with tourists – which is what makes the whole “friendly local” ruse so irritating. In an effort to protect yourself from scam artists, you may put up a guard that prevents you from having authentic interactions with local people.
In my experience, I am best able to keep myself open to new experiences and in the right frame of mind if I consciously manage my reaction to touts and other characters who are just working an angle. I have three key things I keep in mind regarding how to handle touts:
First, I give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Greet everyone with a smile and assume that their intentions are genuine.
Second, don’t let anyone get a rise out of you. If someone is trying to sell you something and you’re not interested, politely say “no, thank you” and move on. Don’t explain why you don’t want it, and don’t tell them “maybe later.” Simply refuse to continue to engage. They’ll just move on to a new target.
Third, I remember some wisdom that I saw taped to the pastry case at the law firm where I used to work: Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting their battle too. Keeping this in mind helps me forgive the touts and faux-friendly locals: they’re just trying to make a buck in order to take care of themselves and their families. Once I stop thinking of the predatory sales attempt as personal, I am able to reframe my experience and allow myself to remain open to authentic interactions.
Image source for Cairo traffic: Martyn Smith