"My grandfather and my father before me all worked in the
Khan al-Khalili--in this same shop," says Mohammad Kerabi,
51, as he drags down finely tooled leather hassocks from a
pile reaching up to the ceiling. He selects a few he thinks
will match the customer's expectations and puffs them out to
the shape they will hold once filled with cotton stuffing.
"You see that one," he says, indicating a particularly
colorful hassock, covered with small designs carefully sewed
onto the supple leather. "I make those at home. It can take
me three days to make one."
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A finely ornamented
door inside the al-Husayn mosque. |
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He is interrupted by a
woman who asks the price of the leather slippers hanging
from a rope in front of the shop. He answers in French, one
of six languages he has learned in the daily market--not in
any school. "Twenty pounds," he says [about $4.50].
"Too much," says the frugal Frenchwoman, her skin bronzed
from diving at the Red Sea. "I can get it for fifteen pounds
at the other stalls."
"But it is not the same quality," protests Kerabi in
vain, showing off the fine stitching, intricate designs, and
gold appliqu‚.
Life in the market
Despite its ancient buildings and timeless, exotic
qualities, the Khan al-Khalili has changed drastically in
recent years. Only twenty years ago, the Khan's crowded
streets and alleys were still medieval in many ways and
filthy with refuse and dust. The streets echoed with clangs
and bangs from craftsmen's hammers beating out brass trays
or the bodies of water pipes. Donkeys laden with sacks of
goods squeezed among the shoppers and craftsmen, often
leaving a reminder of their passage in the streets.
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