Mohamed is a cashier in one of Cairo s huge supermarkets, a branch of an international leading name in the world of grocery shops. His monthly wage of LE 650 (roughly $120) is earned for working 9 hours a day, 6 days a week. Mohamed tells me how he is picked up by the shop s bus at 4 pm, to start his shift at 5. He then closes the cashbox at 2 am, boards the bus again around 3, and makes it home by 4 am (yes, the following morning).
He tells me his story while tapping on his machine, entering the codes of the French cheese and Swiss chocolate (oh and the latest Harry Potter) I have just bought – for LE 350. I am ashamed.
Being in this huge supermarket, and having been to the same or similar shops in France, Dubai or Beirut, one knows exactly where to head for his or her favorite kind of bread, milk or even the flat screen TV. This is one of the wonders of globalization; familiarity and predictability.
A feeling of comfortable familiarity greets anyone who steps into the brand new Starbucks in Cairo, or the sunny Costa Coffee in Damascus. It is a homey feeling created by numerous lattes sipped in either one of those cafes around the world, even in airports.
Luxury and the feeling of belonging to the global consumer community engulfs anyone who sets foot in one of the boutiques that are mushrooming these days in both capitals, brandishing nametags such as Prada, Karen Millen or Gap. Buying an item from these shops in Geneva, Kuwait or New York costs the same: and they are all on sale during the month of July.
Nahla sells a Burberry bag in Damascus for the equivalent of some three months of her salary. Meanwhile, Nathalie in Nice sells it for just below her monthly wage. This is because Nahla and Nathalie, who both sell Burberry bags in certified outlets on both ends of the Mediterranean, are not protected by the same labor laws that dictate minimum wage and benefits. Nathalie can therefore afford to buy, every other year, a discounted Burberry checkered tote, while Nahla only gets to carry it around the shop before returning it to its place.
This is the real contradiction of globalization. Brands are to be found and obtained everywhere, often at the same price, but salaries vary, often dramatically. Inviting global business into your hometown is supposed to guarantee jobs for your friends and family. It also sets higher standards for everyday life. And we are constantly reminded of this everyday life on TV and in huge advertisement posters.
Life as it should be. Of course.
That we are able to find home away from home, as a chain 5-star hotel likes to advertise itself, is definitely reassuring, well, at least to the lucky few globetrotters in the Middle East. For most other street trotters, making ends meet is the center of their world – and not whether their cappuccino is really made with skimmed milk.
The fact that both Cairo and Damascus are ancient cities where people come to see history is now enhanced by the possibility that, after hours of looking at a medieval church, you can now head to a department store and forget where you are; for if you close your eyes to the outside world, you could be just anywhere – inside a mall.
Interestingly though, while commerce is booming and merchandise flourishing on shelves, both capitals find that some of their old and beautiful vestiges are now home to famous brands.
On one of the oldest streets in Damascus a magnificent Ali Baba s cave offers a variety of high-end top-notch clothes, shoes and bags, to both men and women. It is not caftans or embroidered silk slippers; it is actually the latest in European fashion that awaits those who can afford it after having visited the great Omayyad Mosque. A few steps away, also on that historic street, a huge construction site is said to become a branch of a trendy restaurant.
I must admit that the fusion puzzles me, this mix of old and new, rich and poor, have and have-not. In a way, it is the best of both worlds. In another way it is what the French call Grandeur et Decadence. In economic terms, it means that the lucky few can get what they want where they want it, while the many unlucky watch.
One can also argue that Mohamed, the cashier, has access to a higher salary while working for an international outlet. His counterpart in an Egyptian grocery store probably makes half that amount, while an elementary school teacher will make the quarter. True, and that s probably why the school teacher will also take a second job, or will give numerous private classes on the side.
Cairo is full of young men who would park your car, clean your windscreen or simply usher you to drive or reverse. They expect a tip for those services, and it has become common practice that people spare a few pounds every day into what is now a parallel economy that allows people to survive. Or has it become the real economy, while the official one is just on paper?
Nobody said life was fair, and that everyone must wear Prada. But if the devil wears Prada, then the Damascene or Cairene fashionista of a devil is very rich.
Tamara Al-Rifaiis a Cairo-based Syrian who works for an international organization concerned with humanitarian and media issue-related issues. This commentary is special to DAILY NEWS EGYPT.
