http://munchies.vice.com/articles/the-refugee-restaurants-of-cairo
The Refugee Restaurants of Cairo
As the sun goes down over the city, the call to
prayer rings out and the square gradually starts filling with people.
The tables and chairs of the different coffee shops and restaurants
merge into one another, and soon the air is filled with food and drink
orders mixed with the duller tones of conversation. Of the different
Arabic dialects to be heard here, the most prominent is Syrian. That’s
hardly surprising. This area—located west of Cairo within the satellite
city 6th of October—is often referred to a “Little Damascus,” thanks to
the large number of people who moved here from Syria after 2011.
Most commotion is coming from Midan al-Sham, one of
the many Syrian restaurants that opened up here in the last four years.
Their tables on the square are all filled, and the restaurant’s many
different food stations are operating at full capacity. Almost everyone
who works there seems to be Syrian, but the customers are a range of
Palestinians, Iraqis, and Egyptians.
“Egyptians have always preferred Syrian food to Egyptian,” says Samih, the owner and founder of Midan al-Sham. “And
since so many people moved here [from Syria] after the revolution, lots
of Syrian places have opened in Cairo.” Samih came to 6th of October
from Damascus three and a half years ago, opening the restaurant soon
after. His staff is almost entirely composed of ex-Damascus residents.
“The important thing for Egyptian is that the place is ‘clean,’” says
Samih. “If they feel the food is prepared cleanly and the restaurant is
hygienic, then they will come.” New Syrian restaurants like this have
become a common feature in Cairo in recent years, but they are
continuing a tradition that stretches back even further.
“Since the revolution, almost everyone here is Syrian,” says Ahmed Aziz as he sits at the counter of Abo Hussein al-Iraqi, an Iraqi restaurant next door to Midan al-Sham. “Everyone
here used to be Iraqi.” Following the American-led invasion of Iraq in
2003, a large population of Iraqis settled in 6th of October. As the
Syrians are doing today, many newcomers opened Iraqi restaurants and
businesses there. “Back then, most of our customers were Iraqi, but
nowadays there aren’t enough Iraqis left,” says Ahmed. The Iraqi
population has diminished over time, as residents moved on to other
countries or returned to Iraq. Ahmed now relies on the other inhabitants
of 6th of October to patronize his restaurant.
As he speaks, a Syrian couple comes in to place their
order while a family of Palestinians take a table. A 24-year-old
Egyptian named Ahmed Fatti can be overheard discussing the menu with one
of the waiters. “Speak Egyptian,” he says, “I want the meat you have
outside.” Ahmed Fatti is from the other side of Cairo, an
upper-middle-class area in the east of the city. When he was growing up
there was no Iraqi food scene in Egypt. “Nowadays it’s famous,” he says,
“especially the meat. Egyptians love Iraqi meat.” In just over a
decade, the gastronomical terrain of Cairo has been changed by those
fleeing conflict.
Some have had less success, however.
In the centre of Cairo, Ataba Square is a relic of the
city’s faded glory. Built around a statue of the 19th-century viceroy
Ibrahim Pasha, the square was once home to fine boutiques, tailors, and
luxury hotels. Today, the area is notably less affluent, and the
crumbling shop façades now form the backdrop to impossibly slow-moving
crowds of cars and people through streets strewn with garbage. The
residents have also changed. For years now a population of sub-Saharan
Africans has grown in Ataba, mainly made up of men here to work and do
business, but also of families who have moved to escape war and
persecution in Sudan and Eritrea.
In the backstreets behind the old buildings is a network
of alleyways that host the various residences, coffee shops, and
restaurants of those living in Ataba. One of these restaurants is
half-owned by Ali Hussein. An Egyptian businessmen who has worked in
restaurants and hotels from Madrid to Cairo, Ali saw an opportunity for a
new business here along with his Sudanese friend and partner Suleyman.
They opened Restaurant Sudan nine years ago and have been serving the
Sudanese population ever since—almost exclusively. “Ninety-eight percent
of our customers are Sudanese,” says Ali, “with 1 percent foreigner and
1 percent Egyptian.” In stark contrast to the Iraqi and Syrian
restaurants in 6th of October, the local Egyptian population has not
taken to the new cuisine.
Aside from Ali, there is one other Egyptian working in the
restaurant, but not a single one to be seen at the tables. A handful of
Egyptian food stalls, selling the few staple items of Egyptian street
food, are close enough to smell the kitchen of Restaurant Sudan. “I have
never eaten there,” says Ahmed, appearing quite surprised by the
question. “I have had my stall here for years and years and I have never
thought about going in. I really don’t know why.”
“It’s because Egyptians are closed,” says Ali. “In
general, they are closed. They like things the way they are. It’s not
racism—that’s just how it is.” Ali explains how he has tried to
introduce Sudanese food to the Egyptian population in vain. “They think
it will be too spicy, but it really isn’t! A big part of the problem is
the area we are in. People here are not up for trying new things.” Ali
is opening up a new restaurant in a more middle-class area of Cairo. “My
hope is to bring Sudanese food to the Egyptians,” he says. “I know it
is much harder than Syrian or Lebanese, where people feel more connected
to the culture, but I will keep trying.”
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