Amany Abdel-Moneim walks into a streetwise consumerist's dream Wikalet Al-Balah (literally "the date market") -- also known as Souq Boulaq -- is but a few minutes' walk from the World Trade Centre and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. In stark contrast to these skyscrapers, however, it affords a largely modest skyline. I'm on my first visit to this famously popular neighbourhood, and it seems it's all about cheap fabric, second-hand clothes, automobile spare parts and accessories -- an intriguing, reduced-price hodgepodge that draws people from all walks of life. Exploring the market, I soon realise that, despite the appearance of chaos, the wikala has its own, strictly organised structure. It is divided according to the products on sake, with the fabric stores occupying the entryway and centre of the shopping area, and spare parts taking up the periphery, closer to the Nile bank. It is at the other end of the wikala, an area that extends to Boulaq Abul- Ela, that the broadest range of what is known as bala (second-hand clothes) is available in limitless quantities. "We bring it over from the tax-free zone in Port Said," Nader Waheeb, one 40-year-old shop owner explains: "trousers, shirts, blouses, jackets and children clothes." The material is divided into three categories -- worn (LE5-15 per item), medium (LE20- 40) and super quality (LE75-100) -- and everything, Waheeb reassures me, is thoroughly sterilised and dry- cleaned before it is placed on racks arranged both in and outside the shop -- to attract customers and facilitate browsing. More simply, merchandise is sometimes spread out on carts or tables, even wooden chests; and it is here that the vendors will be crying out to advertise their wares, sometimes with the aid of a microphone -- "Come and have a look, everything for a song..." And compared to even economy clothing shops throughout Cairo, the wikala affords incredible bargains. "This is my favourite place for shopping," testifies Mohamed Ismail, a civil servant supporting a family of six. "For LE300 I can buy what would otherwise cost me double or triple that sum." Samia Asaad, a 45-year-old wikala frequenter, too, finds all her family's needs in the Abul- Ela side of the wikala, where she will often accompany her children, who pick and choose among clothes, accessories and toys. "The prices suit our income," she explains -- "much cheaper than fancy shops". Taking a right off Abul- Ela Street, Asaad leads me to an area full of delightful galabiyas of all shapes and sizes, priced at LE30-90. But it is not until I've met Metri Hanna, whose family were among the first traders to settle in the wikala, that I begin to form a holistic picture of the place. He has a treasure trove of stories to tell. Thanks to its location near the Rodel-Farag harbour, the place started out as a souq for dates, he recounts: ships would arrive from Upper Egypt loaded with dates, and the whole area would quickly turn into wholesale date market. Hanna remembers that "in the good old days" merchants would also trade their salvageable cargo of broken ships. "Business started expanding when traders took to selling second-hand clothes and spare parts. Some prospered, and the area gradually developed into a busy shopping centre..." The resulting flea market, Hanna continues, quickly made a name for itself, and as the news spread clothes, and eventually products like toys and household appliances, made their way there. "Yet people still call it Wikalet El-Balah," Hanna muses. Suddenly the call of another vendor pierces my ear -- "Lovely blouse for a lovely lady: one size fits all" -- and turning, I encounter Saleh Sami, another storyteller who has been in the clothes business, he tells me, for over 15 years. Sami specialises in imported clothes -- made in Europe. Purchased wholesale by Port Said traders, the merchandise is distributed among retailers according to financial capability, he explains, adding that he tends to sell the most on Fridays and Mondays (the end and the beginning of the week, respectively). "We sell because our prices are low," he goes on. "I sell a good blouse for LE20," he smiles, "a downtown shop will charge no less than LE60 for the exact same piece, believe it or not." Leaving the bala market behind, finally, I turn into a narrow alleyway named Al-Ahmadeen, entering the area where European-made and other, trendier garments are sold. Unexpectedly, it turns out, the claims made about the quality of these second-hand clothes are not far off the mark; the shops are well decorated and stocked with trendy items, from baggy jeans to swimsuits. Prices prove higher, it is true, but they are still more than reasonable by non- wikala standards -- a point made by, among others, Salwa Tawfiq, a 20-year-old Cairo University student who regularly shops there: "They have very good clothes, both imported and Egyptian-made. It's the only way I can get around the ever steeper prices. A skirt costs me LE35, a warm woollen coat LE50-70 -- compared to LE300 for a new one. They are clean and ironed too -- you can't really tell they've been used." Qassem Mansour, a 17- year-old secondary student, agrees: With trousers or shirts going for as little as LE35-40 (and sweaters for LE50), he says, the wikala enables the lower middle-class young to dress well all year round. According to Adel Abdel-Maaboud, a 50-year-old vendor, "most loyal clients are actually upper middle class people looking for trademarks at a low price. I'd phone them on receiving a stock of goodies -- so they could have their pick before everyone else". Even brand new wedding and bridesmaid dresses are available at a staggering LE150-300, according Hag Ali Abdel-Hamid, a shop owner who specialises in the latter: "Most of the stores around here work closely with the factories, so you can order custom-made sizes, styles or colours." At this point I'm beginning to feel I've done as much shopping as I can handle on a single day, yet heading back, only 10 metres to my left, I discovered yet another realm of the wikala -- the fabric stores, which boast varieties that can be found nowhere else in Cairo. A labyrinthine cluster of passageways, this area feels too good to be true: curtain and upholstery fabric, mostly imported, at LE6-35 per metre; silk and cotton are similarly cheap, and available in countless combinations; there are enough colours, designs and patterns to boggle the mind. "We are keen on stocking our shops with the best and the latest fashions," Youssef Ramsis, one shop owner, explains proudly. "Our clients are by and large very chic ladies, and many rising movie stars have been known to come along with their tailors to buy fabric here." Nor is this all: fabric is also sold in bulk to retailers around the country. "There are well-known wholesale traders in the wikala," Magdi Abdel-Malek, a fabric shop owner, informs me, "and because of our reasonable prices shop owners come and buy their stocks here." No wonder, then, that the volume of trade in the wikala is estimated at LE10 million. Hag Kamel Abbasi, the 63-year- old owner of one of the oldest shops around, points out that many shops and ahawi ( baladi cafés) on 26th of July St have turned to the clothes business, in which bigger and faster profits can be made: "A shop here will sell for no less than a million pounds." The clothes business is taking over, in fact, "a commercial Tsunami", as Abbasi calls it, smiling, that leaves little room for profit-making in the once aristocratic city centre nearby. If you happen to be in the mood for bargain shopping, therefore, keep in mind that, popular as it may be, this is a place to which hundreds flock for their vital needs every day -- and rarely leave disappointed. Tips for first-timers: * Avoid going in your car: parking is waking nightmare. Park behind the WTC and make your way to the wikala on foot or by taxi, a couple of minutes' drive away. * Be careful of your purse and wallet: pickpocketing tends to occur in crowded popular markets, however infrequently. And the earlier in the morning you arrive, the better for avoiding the crowds. Bear in mind that the wikala closes on Sundays. * If you are no good at haggling, bring along someone who is.
