Egypt's prodigal 'princes'

The middle-aged woman waves her hand in dismissal, the crystals on the cuff of her abaya sparkling under the bright casino lights.

“No card … What's wrong with you today, Nancy?'' she tells the dealer. “I'm getting horrible cards,'' she mutters in the Egyptian dialect. The dealer shrugs.

A seemingly inexperienced Gulf Arab in his twenties loses the next hand at the blackjack table, along with three $5 chips.

The woman frowns as she fixes her loosely resting headscarf, a cigarette in one hand and a third cup of Turkish coffee beside her.

“Never double your bet if your cards total more than nine,'' she scolds him in the Hijazi dialect. He nods in embarrassment.

The 24-hour casino in a five-star Cairo hotel with a view of the Nile is bustling with activity. Khaleejis [Gulf Arabs], Jordanians and Arab Israelis bet as drinks are delivered to them from the open bar while a group of women in heavy make-up linger around the sofas.

In the lobby, a suited hotel official with no apparent job description waits outside the elevator.

He stops a group of passing Khaleeji men, positions his hand as if holding a glass and shakes it twice.

“What do you guys plan to do in Cairo? Looking for anything in particular?'' he asks slyly. “If you want to have a nice time, I know some good places.''

Stifling stereotypes

Upon being snubbed, he blows a kiss in their direction and grins, showing a row of yellow teeth. “No worries, prince. If you need anything, just let me know''.

In Cairo, the Khaleeji is king. The lobbies of the city's five-star hotels are packed with white dishdashas and Gulf symbols are plastered all over the city — in taxis, private vehicles and on building hoardings.

“At your service'', “under your command'', Cairenes say to tourists.

Like many Cairene taxi drivers, Gamal Ahmad's car says a lot about him.

A sticker in support of the Italian football club Juventus, blue neon lights and national symbols of the Gulf decorate his taxi.

Khaleejis are welcomed and liked in the city, he says. “They come here to do things they are not able to do in their own countries. Belly dancers, casinos and nightclubs are very popular with them.''

Such stereotyping of Khaleejis is not uncommon in Cairo. Although many tourists from the Gulf find it frustrating, some say it is not entirely unfounded.

Cairo, along with Beirut, has long been known as an oasis of liberalism for citizens of the traditionally conservative Gulf countries.

But as some Gulf states have liberalised, Cairo has lost its allure, say Gulf tourists and Cairenes in the tourism industry.

Talal Mustafa, a first-time tourist from a Gulf country, says it is not easy to avoid stereotypes about Khaleejis.

“It can be amusing in the beginning, even understandable to an extent, but can become very irritating when generalisations about us are treated as common facts,'' he says.

“Legacies of the past have been hanging around for too long. I came to Cairo solely for a touristic and cultural experience.''

Those Khaleejis who want to blend into Cairo's cosmopolitan society often leave their traditional outfits to don suits or blazers.

In order to escape stereotyping and avoid standing out as tourists, some even affect the Egyptian dialect, a distinct form of Arabic that has been popularised in the Arab world through Egyptian music and films.

Swaying to music

A five-minute drive from the hotel in the city's upmarket Garden City district is an exclusive nightclub chain attached to another five-star hotel that is popular with Gulf Arabs.

Past midnight, at a table beside the dance floor, a woman in a black abaya and a firmly wrapped headscarf studies her beer bottle as she sways to house music, her back turned to a drunken male companion who is dancing in his seat. His shirt is unbuttoned, exposing his chest.

Across from her sits a lonely woman in jeans and a fitted shirt, with long black hair and a thick layer of kohl lining her eyelids.

A stout, suited man walks over and places her third bottle of beer on the table.

She shakes his hand and smiles before watching him walk away. She occasionally stares at a group of young Khaleeji men at a table adjacent to her own.

One of them, Jasem, walks up to the suited man. “She's Khaleeji and she's alone,'' he is told.

“But I'm the manager of this club, so I can't introduce you. Please feel free to introduce yourself to her, though.''

Nightclubs hold as paramount the privacy and security of their clients, especially those that are looking for their own company.

“Be careful,'' Jasem is warned by the manager as he tries to take a picture. “Photography is strictly forbidden.''

Simplified perceptions of Khaleejis are not uncommon in Cairo's tourism industry either.

Edward, a fashionable local tour guide, says he prefers not to take them on tours.

“To be honest, I ask not to be assigned Arab tourists. They don't appreciate history. One man once told me to take him to ‘those rocks', referring to the pyramids. I've studied Egyptology. I don't have time for this,'' he says.

The reason they visit the historical sites in Egypt, Edward says, “is just for the photo opportunity''.

Nahed, a tour guide at the Egyptian Museum, shares his view. “Some tourists just say they want to see pharaoh because he is mentioned in Islamic history.

"They belittle our history by reducing us to idol worshippers,'' the tour guide says.

“I often have to remind them that while the Arabian Peninsula was still a pagan society, Egypt was being ruled by Christians, a people of the book,'' she says, referring to the special status given to monotheistic religions by Islam.

But some Cairenes are also quick to point out the other side of the Khaleeji presence in their city, the “less visible side'', as they put it.

Driving down the city's crowded roads, it is hard to ignore the amount of investment Khaleejis bring into Egypt.

Government and private companies from the Gulf have invested heavily in telecommunications, real estate, construction and oil industries in the country.

Statistics show that between 2006 and 2007, almost 40 per cent of foreign direct investment in Egypt came from the Gulf states. Tourism from the region saw double-digit growth last year.

In an apparent gesture of appreciation for years of Khaleeji investment, several streets in the resort city of Sharm Al Shaikh are named after Arab and Gulf monarchs.

“We like to honour the guests who visit us frequently and contribute to Egypt's development,'' says a resident of Sharm Al Shaikh.

Well-known Gulf names have a solid presence there, with billboards throughout Cairo announcing their arrival.

The Gulf “brand'' is held in high regard in Egypt, where locals associate it with the same professionalism and quality that Western names are credited with.

“Gulf states have always shared their wealth with less prosperous countries in the Arab world and the rise in Gulf investment is proof of that.

"Imagine how many Egyptian jobs are created by these companies,'' says Sami, a taxi driver from Upper Egypt.

Egyptians see the expansion of such companies outside the Gulf region as Arab success stories.

“We also feel a sense of pride when we see Arab symbols that have gone global,'' Sami says.

When asked by European tourists why nationals of Arab countries can get away with paying a fraction of the fees paid by foreigners at Egypt's tourist sites, Egyptians defend the policy.

“Arab countries, especially the Gulf states, contribute to our economy in many ways, so they are exempt,'' one tour guide says.

The wealth brought into the Gulf states with the oil boom has not gone unnoticed in Egypt.

At Cairo International Airport, a portly immigration officer grins at a Khaleeji tourist as she takes his passport. “You have lit up Egypt, you prince.''

She opens his passport and gestures for him to place “halawa'' [tip] in it.

A security guard by a metal detector at the airport also insists on a tip. “Come on, prince'' he winks, “I'm sure you have something to offer.''