AT PORT SAID

Press, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22109, 3 June 1937, Page 2 (Supplement)

AT PORT SAID

Native Business Men The way native “business men” pester passengers on ships at Port Said, on the Suez Canal, was described recently by an English visitor. Port Said seems to be the place where East meets 'West. Arab, ' Greek, Armenian, and Turk, Assyrian Italian, French, and English, with a -flavouring of German, Spaniard, and Negro. Stir that mixture and take a large dose—and that is ’ Port Said. . What Is the cause of this mixed crowd? Good business. Where , there is good business, nationality knows no boundaries. For a ship’s passengers the business begins with the boatman who takes you ashore. He will demand a ridiculous fare and say so in a loud voice. Pay him a quarter of what he asks. He will probably fallow a little way along the road, saying loudly that Me has been robbed —but will not follow . very far. If he did, ’he would be robbed—his “friends" or “business colleagues 1 ' would take all they could from his boat. Beware of the street conjuror! He Is good, very good—at conjuring. He will take a penny from your ear and then produce a day-old chick from thin air. Then he will ask you to lend him a half-crown. The things that he does with that com are pretty good. He apparently swallows it and then retrieves it from under his foot. He’ puts it In your pocket and finds it under his red fez. He throws it into the air, catches it in his right hand, and then suddenly shows it to you in his left—the right-hand empty. Then he gives you the half-crown. No doubt, you think tha show worth sixpence or even a shilling, and you give it to him. He is one of the few street merchants who accepts without grumbling—and that means there’s a catch somewhere. I found out where from my own experience. The next shop I entered refused to take my half-crown —it was a dud. The conjuror still had my good com: no wonder he did not grumble! All this may make you think. "Well, I’ll stay on board.” Even there you will not be entirely free from “business.” One chap I remember particularly. He comes aboard practically every ship that drops anchor at Port Said, Although it is the first time you have seen him, his friendly greeting never varies any more than his Scots’ accent. “I know you long time, mister. My name Jock MacPherson. I speak you special price anything.” Despite his name and his accent, he was bom in Port Said, and is as black as coal. A prince amongst Negroes! You might think that when the ship leaves Port Said for Suez you would be free of these business gentlemen, but no, the pilot brings two of them with him. These men have the job of mooring the boat during the passage when the vessel has to stop to allow another ship to pass. They have their rowing boat with them, and this is usually swung from the ship’s derrick a few feet above the wafer-level. In the locker of this boat are the inevitable postcards, Turkish Delight and other “wonders” of Port Said, and one of the boatmen clambers on to the deck and carries on the selling business. One day there was an illustration of how strong the ‘business . Instinct is with these men. The watermen’s boat was slung as usual over the ship’s side whilst one or the men was attending to business on deck. Suddenly the rope holding the boat dipped and the small vessel struck the water and quickly filled, jha only occupant struck

out hurriedly for the canal bank to avoid the wash of the propeller. On deck, the other boatman was Jumping up and down, waving his arms about and pointing down ™ the water. To soothe him a bit the skipper shouted down: “All right, we will save your mate.” To which came the reply: “Nevera nund da mate. My Turkish Delight In da boat, save heera queeck,”