We're Gonna Rock Down to Electric Avenue...

First published January 25, 2009

Our darling little kitchen in our flat is equipped with an efficient amount of items to make a few meals. Floral and plaid dishes are arranged in a glass cabinet. Bent, mismatched silverware is in the drawer. A stove and refrigerator round out the inventory. When we first looked at the place, I was pleasantly surprised by the thought put into each item in this furnished option.

As I've been making feeble attempts to create dinners here, I have gone about my tasks in routine fashion until I turn and realize...I have no microwave. I have no toaster. I have no griddle. All those handy-dandy little gadgets that grace the counter of most American homes were conspicuously missing. So I have been frying frozen waffles and flipping leftovers in a skillet over the stove. I know. I know. Poor me. It's not necessarily a complaint, but rather another adjustment to my every day living experience.

We could buy a microwave, but Cairo is our temporary home and we don't want to have to ship the puppy in a few months. I could, however, manage to ship a griddle and a toaster. Our first perusings for a toaster oven came at Platinum Mall. This is a collection of stores that has a variety of items ranging from men's clothes to baby seats to small appliances. Lest you think this is a Wal-Mart, this mall is vertical. We walked in (not inconspicuously) to a variety of men all shopping for shirts and pants and all things manly. Some paused and looked at us to see why we were there. I was wondering the same thing myself.

I immediately saw stairs, a sign with Arabic writing and an arrow. I gave the girls and John the nod and we were up to the second floor. This floor had baby items located on it. We gave a brief viewing and continued up the next set of stairs. The third level sold women's hijabs (headscarves) and flowing gowns. I lingered just a moment, but decided that this was a store for stick women and boycotted the whole floor. Out of breath, we crested the fourth floor and found what we were looking for...appliances--small ones, but at least we had reached the electronic section.

We looked through the collection of toaster ovens. John (as usual) began giving me the calculations for each one. A hundred bucks? For a toaster? No way. I looked around a bit more so as to give the impression that I was still in the valley of indecision and slowly began receding down the stairs. Rats. No toaster today.

The next day, John began looking through some Cairo information. He found that different sections of the city specialize in different items to purchase. For instance, on Shehab St. (our street) is our good fortune and to John's chagrine--Fashion Lane. There are shoe stores, clothing stores and accessories on both sides. He found the street that was known for selling appliances to which I quickly dubbed, "Electric Avenue" and began singing the song every time we discussed going.

We told our taxi driver which street to drive toward and he rolled his eyes. Apparently, this was quite a distance and it was in the afternoon meaning lots of traffic. Of course, we didn't know that then. We hung on as he accelerated and slammed on his brakes making us bow like a Chinese dignitary for the next 35 minutes. Before we arrived at our destination, we drove through Auto Parts Avenue, Domestications Drive and Trinkets Trail. The driver dropped us off in the middle of Electric Avenue which happened to be loaded with many men with that same gleam in their eyes that their American counterparts get when entering Best Buy.

In the windows were flat screen TVs, washers, radios, and toaster ovens. Woo hoo! Our first store had exactly one model to choose from. John asked about it. We decided it was too large, said "shukran" (thank you) and moved on. We moved through the crowd of men to the next store which offered 2 choices. Again, both too big.

I was ready to call it a day, but the girls were having fun and encouraged me to keep looking. We rounded the corner and walked into a little store that had an older man and one young teenage boy in it. He didn't look like the other Egyptians so he had our curiosity piqued. John greeted him and slowly told him what we were looking for. He responded in extremely good English. John sped his communication delivery and told him we needed a small toaster oven. He immediately pulled out a variety for us to look at. He was especially happy with one and said, "This is a good one. This one comes from China." I thought that was pretty funny because I'm pretty sure that line would never be used as a marketing ploy in the U.S.

He was right because it was exactly what we were looking for. John asked him the price and to my happiness, the prices were fixed. Ahhhhhh, no bartering. The bonus was that the price was good. He smiled and said that he keeps this shop as a hobby. He normally travels around the world selling stamps. For some reason, I believed him. He looked at the girls and asked them if they had hobbies. They nodded. He said, "I think I have around 20 hobbies. I am from Syria, but I come to Egypt because I do good here. This store? Eh! You never know who comes in, but my other hobbies...they are good."

I wanted to know what the other 18 hobbies were, but I was a little reticent to ask. What if I found out something I didn't want to know or shouldn't know? I didn't want to become an episode of "24." As we began to leave, he pulled out an electric griddle. Before we knew it, we became the proud owners of one of those, too. He even threw in a set of salad tongs--free!

Owf (pronounced "Oaf") the shopkeeper wrote down his name and address and told us to come back again. I'm sure we will. Each person we meet is a new point of connection, a new life intersected, a new opportunity to live Jesus in front of them.

We carried our purchases down the street to catch a taxi, but still the giant flat screen TVs were calling my name. I wonder if one could be written off as a "language study tool"? Nice try, Pam. Nice try.