MY SECOND VISIT TO THE SHEYKH AND MY EXPERIENCES WITH AN UNFAITHFUL
SERVANT
My friend explained to the Sheykh my desire to set up an easel in some
parts of his house. A suspicious fear added to his wish to please
gave me an uncomfortable feeling of having presumed on the good man’s
hospitality. It took some time to clear his mind of any prejudicial
effects which might ensue on my working here. Picture painting is so
foreign to the Moslem’s education, and strictly speaking is a breach
of Koranic law, that a slight hesitation in giving me permission is
understandable. The likeness of nothing, which is in heaven above or
in the earth beneath, hung on his walls to assist us in explaining the
nature of my work; and that veil which is ever in a degree between the
western and the oriental mind seemed thickened for a while. The wish to
please, however, predominated over the suspicious fears, and he bade us
farewell with the assurance that his house was at my disposal.
It was days before I returned, as I wished to complete a street scene
I was then engaged on. I had lost my guide, philosopher, and friend,
Mohammed, whom I did not wish to do out of a lucrative job up the Nile,
and I had in his stead one with a plausible exterior, but possessing
none of the virtues and all the vices which go to make up a dragoman.
To work in the streets and bazaars in Cairo without a man to keep off
the small boys is almost an impossibility, and much of one’s comfort
depends on the tact and willingness of the man one employs.
Mansoor (to give him an alias) spoke and read English remarkably well,
and having learnt like a parrot some sentences concerning the Pyramids
and some of the chief monuments of Cairo, he was in hopes of soon
obtaining a dragoman’s licence. Without this licence, happily, none may
guide the tourist, and as an examination of sorts is now required, and
also a character from some previous employer as to the good behaviour
of the applicant, the tourist may run less risk in future of being
hopelessly swindled than he did in earlier days. But acting merely as
my servant, such licence was not a necessity. He had an irritating way
of giving me uncalled-for information. The parrot-like sentences he had
stored in his memory were repeated each time we passed a monument the
tourist is taken to see. These might have been amusing had I not heard
them _ad nauseam_ before. I did not check him at first, and I even
tried to supplement some facts absent from the little book which he had
learnt by heart. His usual answer, ‘This is all the dragomans say,’
discouraged me from trying to teach him anything.
The Khan Khalil was the school in which the true tricks of his trade
were to be studied. While I worked there, Mansoor would crawl about
listening to the prices paid for the various purchases, and probably
passed sleepless nights till he had found out about the commission the
guides had obtained for bringing a customer. His smart clothes and his
fluent English must have imposed on many a stall-holder that he was
either a licensed dragoman or was shortly to become one. Coffee and
cigarettes were pressed on him at whatever _mastaba_ he deigned to sit.
While I worked in a mosque not far from this bazaar he would sit at the
window and watch for tourists. Several times he had an uncle to bury.
He would explain that there was only just time for him to pay his last
respects to his deceased relative, and if I would let him go he would
be sure to be back by the time I was prepared to leave. I would tell
him to go and bury his relative, and had he asked to bury himself, I
was prepared by this time to give him my full permission.
The last time he left me on his sorrowful errand, I mounted on to the
window-sill where he was wont to watch for the prey as yet withheld
from him. I saw a party of tourists just disappearing into an alley
leading into the Khan Khalil, while Mansoor was questioning the driver
of one of the cabs which they had left, and then he also was lost in
the shadow of the selfsame alley. He returned some time after I was
ready to start for my hotel, and I told him that as he had taken so
long in burying his uncle, he should attend no more funerals while he
was in my service. To be told a lie is seldom pleasant; but a very
stupid lie reflects on the intelligence of the hearer, and this may
partly have accounted for my growing dislike of this man.
I had unfortunately not found another to take his place when I went
to the house of the Sheykh Saheime to start a drawing. I was most
courteously received, and was told to ask for anything which I might
require. I began a drawing from the anteroom of the _mandara_ looking
into the court and through the passage, which also led to the stairs of
the former hareem. I did not wish to begin a too elaborate subject till
I felt more sure that repeated visits were not inconvenient to my host.
Mansoor joined the doorkeeper and the eunuch on their bench at the
front entrance, where he doubtless enhanced his own importance by lying
about my riches and relationship to the various high English officials
in Cairo. The inconvenience of such lies is that a tip proportionate
to such imagined wealth is looked forward to. He came presently as
the bearer of a message from the Sheykh, that had the latter known I
was coming that day, he would have prepared a dinner for me; but that
he hoped I would return on the following morning and would honour
him with my presence at the midday meal. I was grateful for his kind
intentions, and yet sorry that I might be putting him to some trouble
and inconvenience. I wished to come here often, and would only feel
comfortable about doing so if I felt sure that I was not disturbing him.
Not feeling sure as to my intentions, he came himself, and was not
satisfied till I had promised to dine with him the next day. Mansoor
was later cross-questioned as to whether I liked such and such a dish.
Did I always eat with a knife and fork? He supposed I sat on a chair
while I fed, and could Christians get through a meal without strong
drink? Such questions were duly repeated to me, so I sent my man back
to the Sheykh with a message that the more the dinner was as he was
accustomed to have it, the more I should appreciate his hospitality.
I was there early on the following morning, as I wished to complete
my drawing before the meal took place. I had a good long paint with
no other company but a weasel, which is often seen in Egyptian houses
to keep off the mice and rats, or whatever one chooses to call that
creature which is too large for the former and too small for the
latter. I know of but one name for either of these pests, and _firán_
does duty for both. Cats are also household pets, but are less
adaptable for spying out the secret places where the _firán_ are wont
to nest their young.
A message came from the Sheykh to know if I wanted my dinner at twelve
or at one o’clock. I sent Mansoor to find out what his usual hour was,
and being told that it was just after the midday prayer, I sent word
that no other time would suit me better.
About half-past twelve the Sheykh appeared, followed by a gentleman
in European clothes and a ‘tarbouch.’ I was introduced, and informed
that this was a cousin and a judge of a native tribunal. I was relieved
to find that the judge spoke French fluently, for my Arabic is liable
to fail me if put to too severe a test. They seemed interested in my
drawing, and held it close to their eyes to enable them to decipher
the text engraved on the lintel of the door. It is a never-failing
surprise to Easterns if they can read any lettering which one may
have introduced in a drawing. ‘The _ghawaga_ says he can’t write
Arabic; then how is it that we can read what he has here written?’ My
explanation that I had merely copied the strokes and dots which I saw
before my nose seldom satisfied these inquiries, and generally left a
suspicion of something uncanny. Needless to say here that the lady now
shown in the illustration was non-existent at that time, and not being
of the _beau sexe_ myself, the privilege of seeing one at any time in
this house was not to be expected. There are still some things left
which the painter may do and which are still beyond the power of the
camera.
Now, a word of warning to any one who may be about to dine for the
first time with one of the Near East. To put it crudely: Come with an
empty stomach and eat as sparingly of the first dishes as you can. They
may be very good; but our powers of absorption may fail us, and we
might have to pass several subsequent courses untouched, which might be
taken as a slight to the quality of the fare. I was prepared for this,
and had made a very light breakfast. The grace, repeated in a low voice
by the master, is always impressive: ‘Bi-smi-lláhi-r-raḥmani-r-raḥeem’
(In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful), and the smell of
the savoury dish which had been placed before us made the ‘Tafaddal’
or invitation to sit down doubly welcome. Chairs had been borrowed,
as a concession doubtless to the requirements of the _Ferangi_, and
a plate, knife, and fork were also placed before me. I dismissed the
latter articles as only being necessary to cut up the tougher food
of Europeans, and as quite useless with the tenderer dishes of the
_Muslemeen_. The Sheykh seemed pleased at this and, as is the custom,
first tasted of the dish.
When I tore a piece off the thin flat loaf placed before me and,
doubling it, I hooked a piece of meat out of the dish, he exclaimed
that I had eaten in Arab fashion before. The judge agreed with me that
with Arab dishes he did not see where a knife and fork came in. Not
partaking so freely of the _yachnee_ as to satisfy our host, he took a
delicate morsel out of the stew and handed it to me.
The manner of eating with the fingers seems strange at first; but it
is astonishing how soon one gets accustomed to it, and also how much
more delicate it seems than when described to those who may never have
witnessed it. The right hand should always be used if possible, and
should a fowl be served, it is polite to catch hold of one leg, so as
to enable the master to dismember the bird without having to use his
left hand. It may take as long to learn the etiquette pertaining to
the Arab mode of eating as for an Arab to acquire all the niceties
observed at an English table. Should a stranger, however, from want
of experience do something contrary to the usages of the country, an
oriental will pretend not to notice it, as a well-bred Englishman would
do if the cases were reversed.
Dish followed on dish; when some sweetstuffs were placed on the table
my hopes revived, till they were replaced by yet another stew. My
powers of absorption had about reached their limit. I appealed to
my host to consider the limited dimensions of my lower waist, and
that that only prevented me from doing full justice to his generous
fare. This had some effect, and I was let off with a tit-bit which he
politely handed to me in his fingers. ‘El-ḥamdu li-lláh!’ (Praise be to
God) from the judge, who rose up and continued the conversation while
washing his hands, was the abrupt sign that our feast was at an end.
A servant held a brass basin while a second poured the water from a
ewer over my hands, and, our ablutions at an end, we were conducted to
the _takhtabosh_ to sip our coffee and smoke. I was asked where I had
dined before in Arab fashion, and my host was interested to hear about
some dishes peculiar to Morocco, also how I had fared with the Druses
in the Lebanon. An Arab meal, in fact, was not in itself a novelty
to me; but, as I explained to the Sheykh, I had never dined in such
beautiful surroundings. We got on to the subject of Japan, where the
mode of eating is much more difficult to acquire than that of the Near
East. My hearers showed a much greater interest in things Japanese
than I expected, for as a rule a Moslem’s sympathies rarely extend to
countries beyond the sway of Islam. How I had got on without meat,
bread, milk or butter surprised them, and settled any possible doubts
as to whether they might wish to go there themselves. I am told that
during the Russo-Japanese war events were followed with keen interest
in Egypt. Every victory of the Japanese was construed into a victory of
a non-Christian people over a Christian power--of the Asiatic over the
European. When a book I had written on my experiences in Japan appeared
at the Cairo booksellers’, I was interviewed by the editor of an Arabic
paper to give him as many particulars as I could concerning Japan.
[Illustration: THE TAKHTABOSH]
I avoided all talk as to the present régime in Egypt. Though one of
my hearers had a safe billet, and the Sheykh probably felt a greater
security for the property he holds than he would if our occupation
of Egypt ceased, nevertheless the sting of being governed by the
unbelievers is always there, let the unbeliever’s yoke be ever so light
a one.
A suspicion that I might be hindering the afternoon nap induced me to
bid farewell to my host and the judge.
Mansoor had been having a good time feasting with the servants, and
when he joined me I asked him to divide a _riyal_ between those who
had served me. I watched him present the money to one of them and in
the presence of the others, for I had reason to suspect his honesty. I
could not hear the talk which followed, but saw the money passed on to
a boy, who was told to go to a shop and change it. I saw no object in
waiting any longer, so left the house. Mansoor wished to stay behind,
and as I did not see why he should get any of the tip, I made him come
with me. In the main street I hailed a passing cab. Mansoor now seemed
rather disturbed and asked if he could go back. ‘The boy will not know
where to bring the change of the _riyal_.’ ‘Did you not tell the boy
to give the changed money to be divided among the servants?’ I asked.
‘No, I did not say it was for the servants,’ he answered, with the look
of a detected thief; ‘I told him to bring the change back to you, sir.
Please allow me to return to the house and I will tell them what your
intentions were.’ I could not return myself to see the matter through,
as I remembered an appointment I had to keep, and I let the man go. It
dawned on me as I drove to my hotel that Mansoor’s object in hanging
behind was to intercept the boy returning with the change and to pocket
the lot himself.
Explaining the circumstances to one who had had a long experience of
native servants, I was assured that my suspicions were not unfounded.
This villain, who had been well entertained by the servants of the
house, had conceived this ingenious manner of robbing them of their
gratuity.
When he turned up the next morning I told him I should want him no
longer. Seeming to question the reason of his sudden dismissal, I
suggested a police inquiry as to the disposal of the _riyal_. He wished
to hear no more, and vanished like the ghost who was asked for a
subscription.
Now this is a type of man who, but for the salutary regulation as to
granting licences, would have become a dragoman, and have reaped a good
harvest, during the short season, by robbing the tourist by day, and
conducting others by night to witness every kind of abomination.