Martin and I had just gotten back from the pyramids, and I invited him up to the apartment for a cold water when he was approached by a prating mountebank of about 14 holding a green drink in a twist-top bottle. He asked Martin to open it for him, and my friend complied.
With Martin's hands thusly occupied, the young thief tried to reach into his pockets but was quickly rebuffed. Undeterred, and in a remarkable display of dependency and parasitism, he began to follow us up the stairs, grabbing Martin's arm, upon which my friend threatened to whip this creature with his lanyarded keys.
We were targeted for speaking English on the street. I relate this story in the interest of full disclosure, not wanting this blog to be a whitewashed account of my two weeks here. My question to Egypt is a simple one: There is a reason there were only 12 visitors on the Giza Plateau this morning (where we were briefly kidnapped by the camel and carriage touts), and I have done my part -- exchanging my hard currency, and visiting the shops, restaurants and historical sites with good cheer and an open heart. What do you have to say for yourself?
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