My shining moment was successfully haggling with a shopkeeper and using my feminine wiles to get him to lower his prices for my friends buying shawls, completely in Arabic, understanding everything. He asked if I was Egyptian, I said that I was Indian and he insisted that I had some Egyptian in me - that I "am Cleopatra, queen of not Egypt, not India, but of the world." Saying no in Arabic to keep away the sellers and the beggars came so naturally as we dodged popcorn and peanut carts and pointedly ignored the "Half price for the pretty ladies!" comments. Sellers here are all very interested in ethnicities - and I think that they must have different techniques for the variety of customers they get. Throughout the course of the night I got, "Are you Japanese?" (which I was very confused about) "Enti Masriyeh? Are you Egyptian?" (to which I responded, "La'a, no" and he replied, "You are! Don't lie!") and "Hey, Indian lady! Look at my golden slippers!"
We then unwound at Al-Fishawi, the oldest and usually most crowded coffee shop in Cairo that has supposedly been continuously open since the 1700s. After a few lefts and a right we found it, located literally in the middle of a narrow alley surrounded with ornate mirrors of different sizes and shapes. We all shared traditional mint tea, pomegranate juice, and strawberry shisha at a table outside under the moon while sellers of all ages waved jewelry and papyrus that was probably fake in our directions as they walked by. I didn't want to leave, but we eventually had to and the drive back to campus was suddenly so much more enjoyable than before. The short but eventful trip made me fall even more in love with Cairo.