ON LEAVE IN CAIRO

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 76, 10 September 1941, Page 3

ON LEAVE IN CAIRO

THE SOLDIER AM) HIS MONEY U NOT WHAT IT WAS (N.Z.E.F. Ollicial News Service) Cairo, Aug. 19. 1 Where does money go to on a day's ! leave in Cairo? Even the soldier doesn't; know that answer, but certainly LI I doesn’t seem to be what £1 used to be. S In the Middle East soldiers are natur- : ally paid in Egyptian currency, the j majority of the men drawing LI per j week. That Egyptian LI divides into j 100 piastres, and each piastre into 10 1 millemes, but soldiers don't worry much ' about millemes. A piastre (commonly! known as an “acker”) is equivalent to ! about 2Ad sterling, 'and that is pro- ; bably where lies the trap for young j players. New Zealanders, particularly j when they are new to the Middle East, j are inclined to treat a piastre as a j penny instead of as nearly threepence, j Oi course, one doesn't have to visit ! Cairo many times to have it firmly im- j planted on the subconscious that 5~ ack- j ers is a bob. and a bob's a bob, even | more so than it was back home. Cairo is a city of street hawkers, and i by tlie.se the Kiwi is hailed as one sent i by the gods. The distinctive New Zea- ' land peaked hat seems to be taken as ( the sign of a millionaire approaching. | Probably it is quite true that the New i Zealander does spend his money more i freely than others when he has it, but j necessity soon teaches canniness. Anv 1 native street seller will tell you that j “Kiwi have plenty money.” Kiwi soon ! learned the answer to that, though— | “Mafeesh l’cloose,” meaning, I have no ! money. This, followed by a determined ! "Yalla” or “Imshi,” meaning to go away, , soon convinces that Kiwi is not buying to-day. Among the businesses which have boomed with the influx of soldiers to the Middle East is that of the bootblack. This trade is plied by natives of all ages, and the soldier who dares to arrive in town with dusty boots pays the price by being pestered from the time he alights from the train until the last hopeful offer of a shine as he leaves town late at night. The price for a boot shine varies and is fixed by agreement before the job is started. The usual figure is about half a piastre. If a man’s hat looks new the native usually asks about 5 piastres, thinking he has a new chum, but if the hat looks as though it might have seen service in the desert, then the preliminaries are dis- ! perused with and a price offered of ; “good shine, half acker.” The native apparently dislikes to lose a customer once he thinks he has interested him, and sometimes the job is done for a cigarette. Razor blades, socks, handkerchiefs, wrist watch straps, pens and pencils are a few of the wide range of goods offered for sale on the streets. A little haggling before a price is fixed upon is the expected thing in all cases. Reminiscent of the hansom cab days in New Zealand are the gharries, fourwheeled buggv-like carriages drawn by a pair of horses, usually stallions. The gelding is rarely seen in Egypt. Most soldiers use these gharries in preference to taxis, and here again the price is fixed by argument before the journey commences. The native drivers certainly do their best to obtain exorbitant fares, but once they have agreed to a price they seldom depart from it.. Cooling drinks are necessary at frequent intervals to sustain the soldier during a day's leave in Cairo. The range of these is large, and the price runs from 1 piastre for soft drinks to about 5 or (5 piastres for spirits. There is no shortage of cafe-bars in the metropolis, probably another result of the coming of the soldiers. A good meal costs about 10 piastres j but New Zealanders find much of the cooking too rich for them, while a good ! cup of tea is something to write home | about. The soldier’s own clubs till this : want much better than the cafes. By the time you ve paid sundry fares taken a few gharry rides, bought odd l and ends, including cigarettes and to bacco, and had a drink with Bert who came away with the First Echelon and a couple with Harry, whom you haven t seen since you left the boat, there’s not much left of a hundred ackers And there’s still stamps to buy for the letter home and a few piastres needed for an odd “housie” ticket during the week. J