Ok, so far I wrote about the young n’ sexy side of this workshop, but now it’s time to quit trifles and get a little more into breaking news, because, in the end, I’m living among super smart journalists and it’s time to adapt my IQ to the average. So, let me introduce you The Chicken Issue. I’ve been doing a massive enquiry, took pictures, interviewed people, followed the news up to the most dangerous shisha bar, risked my life ( but that was actually my fault, because I crossed the street chatting at the cell phone) and here you are, after a week of super hard job, some brand new clues that could really help in throwing light on the mystery that is getting people around the world on fire: what is going on between Egyptians and chickens? To prove you I’m not kidding at all, here you are some data that can provide you a panorama on Egyptian Chicken Issue:
Permanence in Alexandria: 15 days - Number of meals/ day ( breakfast excluded): 2 - Number of restaurants in which we have meals: 3 ( Windsor Hotel Restaurant, Metropole Hotel Restaurant and the Cafeteria of Bibliotheca Alexandrina by Hilton Hotels) - Rating of the above-mentioned restaurants according to my “ Act like a perfect Egyptian in Egypt even if you look the hell like a Finnish, which is what you are” guide book: 5 silver forks. - Total number of cooks in the above-mentioned restaurants: 2 ( for the three of them, because the Metropole and the Windsor have the same cook, or two twin – cooks, I didn’t have –alas!– the chance to check, should go and try to buy our beloved waiter Tony Yousseff to know a little more…I promise I will.) - Number of times we had chicken at meals: 26 - Ways Egyptians apparently know to cook chicken: 3. fried, grilled, fried and then grilled.
We actually asked more than once the hotel to vary a little the menu, but there must have been some kind of misunderstanding, since the only thing that has been varied ever since is the flavor of the rice they serve as a side dish ( from cumin-flavored to cinnamon-flavored). Anyway, wandering around a little, I encountered some events that made me starting to think that what I saw was just the surface of something more deep, complex and sinister.
I asked some Arabic-speaking friends of mine to translate what those guys that – yelling like hell – kindly woke me up from my first half-hour-nap of the week, but none of them could actually explain exactly what they say, so let’s try to guess starting from the elements we already have: 1) I only know two reasons why people may feel the need to gather in the center of town blustering that way with drums and whistles : a. When their national football team wins the World Championship, which is clearly not the case since it was my team who won ( too bad CFI people, you lose!!! ahahahahahahahah). b. When they can’t stand a situation anymore. 2) As you can see the protest was actually going on in front of a Kentuky Fried Chicken restaurant, which is an American chain that mainly sells spicy-like-hell fried chicken ( ah!). So, according to these incontrovertible evidences, I wonder: if, after two weeks of chicken eating I’m turning into a chicken myself ( I swear I found feathers on my t-shirt, so I’m certainly turning into a chicken, or my winter coat has a hole from which the down comes out.), how can this poor people carry on eating chicken 24/7 for their entire lives? No wonder they feel a little pissed. Discover the sordid sequel of this fire-hot issue in the next episode!!!
