Dahab and the Egyptian Mafia

When we checked into our hotel in Dahab, a Sinai beach town with a hippyish backpacker feel, there were three young Egyptian guys behind the counter screwing around. One turned to us, grinned and introduced himself and his friends. They were the Egyptian Mafia - the guy at the end of the line, tall, with curly hair and a cell phone in his hand was the Drug Dealer. Then next one, wearing a slick, Ben Shermanesque shirt with three buttons open, was the Killer.

"And me, I'm the Don."

They all laughed. More general screwing around ensued, jokes flying from all sides, in English and Arabic, and they got us checked in at a leisurely pace.

The restaurant at the Sphinx hotel is called the Funny Mummy. This is where Lee and I eat breakfast every day, facing the Gulf of Aqaba, sitting on comfy cushions on the floor. This is how we were welcomed to the Funny Mummy on our first day:

A guy with a mustache, who we had not yet met, came casually over to the table with a couple of menus, and said, "Good morning my friends! Where you come from?"

I said, "California." I usually say California rather than America. Everybody has heard of California, and it seems somehow hipper.

"Ah, Americans! You are welcome. Fuck Bush." He gave a sardonic yet friendly half-way grin and walked off to get us some coffee. Then one of the Mafia came over and sat next to us.

He said, "Good morning," and leaned way back on the cushions, checking his cell phone. He looked tired.

"Too much party last night." As he typed out a text message with his thumb, he explained that he had stayed out late at a club, and had to work this morning at 7am.

We've now been in Dahab for four days, and have gotten to know by sight and brief repartee a number of the guys who stand in front of bars and restaurants and try to rope in tourists. Their lines vary from, "Please come see the menu," to "Did you hear the joke about the hippy and the nun?" It's a form of the Hustle, which is pretty much omnipresent in the parts of Egypt tourists frequent, but this hustle is always done with an easygoing sense of fun.

Last night, Saturday night, we went to a party at the Tota Bar, the front of which resembles an old clipper, complete with portholes and a rigged mast. Crunchy, thumping Trance filled the bar, and tourists danced in the middle. Out back people hung out around fires, and drank beer. The bar/restaurant hustlers mingled, played pool, and put their verbal skills to use hitting on the foreign girls. Working in Dahab must be many a swinging young Egyptian's dream.