Hany was repairing the rail (made of iron water pipe) on the balcony on which the polythene sun-block curtains usually hang. The fixing brackets were coming away from the wall. I was being the labourer, moving the steps (selem kheshup in Arabic, meaning stairs wooden) handing the tools etc. I noticed that one of the little 'bullet' thingies was on the floor, and pointed this out to Hany. "Ahhh, Mister Edward, that doesn't matter, it's just rubbish, we don't need it." I endeavoured to explain to him that without the bullet, the device couldn't possibly work! But to no avail, all I got was that knowing smile which says "I know best!" I just hate being treated with contempt, especially when I know what I'm talking about and the contemptuous one doesn't know his **** from his elbow!!!!!!! And that, Dear Reader was Mr Hany right there and then. He'll never know how lucky he was to be called away!
I finished that little job off myself, much to my annoyance, but with my sanity thankfully still intact.
"Oh no, Meester Adwar, not here. Never can we fix that!" My protestations that he (yes it was definitely the self-same man) had already fixed it once before, fell on deaf ears. He just wouldn't entertain it! Downhearted, I went in search of some bread, along behind the Temple. "Ah," I thought as I passed it on the 'bus, "the old brothers in the downstairs hardware shop are bound to know someone who'll sort this out for me." And so they did. One of their staff was duly dispatched to show me the place and to introduce me to the boss there. What a place, I was enthralled just by the smell of it! They repair everything electrical. Here is one bloke re-winding the field coils (by hand) on a huge electric motor:
Which just goes to prove that not EVERY Egyptian is out to fleece you!