"I brought over five suitcases," said one of my dinner companions last night.
I avoided mentioning my luggage--one soft bag with wheels and a duffel full of Muneer's Maya textbooks and some pork salami. The duffel has since been emptied and collapsed.
"My luggage is mostly my clothes," I heard as I nibbled on some bread dipped in hummous.
I hadn't bothered. My clothing--frumpy modest at best--isn't worth wearing at home, much less dragging halfway around the world. I knew I'd have trouble "buying on-site" but no more trouble than I have at home.
Today I went shopping in Zamalek. There are some small boutiques here with interesting clothes, but nothing quite right for the high prices they charge here in Embassy Central. I was dragging in the afternoon sun, but finally went in one last shop before heading back to the Flamenco.
The last store had a selection of Levi's, Tommy Hilfiger, and Gap clothes. And some T-shirts that didn't seem to belong there. I realize that some of the products are knock-offs, and others are made in Egypt so these are spares, seconds that were not up to snuff to be exported. But who thought it was a good idea to sell a dozen T-shirts for a Baptist Church in the US?
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