Day 6: Sweffiyeh

We wake up to a very light breakfast of black sesame breadsticks and cream cheese from the jar - the fact we're still eating the stuff tells you just how very big that jar was - and chill in the apartment. In awhile we will head to Mummy's and Papi's but right now, with the time I have to myself, I am appropriately nervy and sick. Marco is arriving tonight.

This morning Papi is taking us to Sweffiyeh, a fantastic shopping district plunk near the burbs. More specifically, Papi wants to show James and me his favourite shop in Sweffiyeh: Izhiman Coffee. Without even asking Raj if he wants to come along, Papi packs the two of us in the car and we're off. Papi loves his son more than anything, but his love of exotic food and shop scouring doesn't extend to Raj. Like I said, Raj doesn't like to mix with the local riff raff.

Izhiman Coffee is one-third coffee, two-thirds spices and everything else. I have always wanted to visit a Middle Eastern spice market, it's even #32 on my list of travel goals. Here's an excerpt for you:

29: Ogle a Venetian glassblower (done)
30: Pick tea in Ceylon
31: Ride a camel without assistance (done)
32: Visit a Middle Eastern spice market (done)
33: Visit an African spice market
34: See the Rosetta Stone (done)
35: Eat Peking Duck in Peking
36: Bungee jump off a Bavarian suspension bridge

And etc. The path to fulfilling goal #32 started with Mummy and Papi being so thrilled with James' and my love of their fabulous Turkish coffee (the rest of the country drinks Nescafe, yuck), and knew that we wanted to see a spice market, too. Izhiman fit the bill. The front of the shop is all coffee, various roasts and flavours, the middle is spices, and the back is tea, perfume & naturopathic remedies.

Either Papi is such a regular or Izhiman loves tourists so much that Omar, employee extraordinaire, was appointed our personal shopping stooge. Omar knew his shit. I knew Omar knew his shit when he brought over a large scoop of what looked like clear crystal chips, gestured to me with a smile and said, "Here, smell."

At the time I didn't know it was a scoop of pure menthol. I leaned over and took a sniff that cleared out my sinuses, orifices and entire body cavity in .03 seconds flat. What a wallop! James was spluttering from his first inhale and I'd just started to ride the menthol high when smiling, I put my arm in Omar's and said, "So tell me, what other interesting things do you have here?"

As it turned out, plenty of interesting things. I bought biryani spice, Egyptian chamomile tea, over four pounds of wild tyme (known as zatar), sumac, Nigerian black soap, cardamom, the darkest roast coffee beans available, and a special present for Oli: Snake Oil.

Snake Oil came in a small orange box with a picture of a cobra on the front. Underneath the picture it said, "Immediate Treatment for Damaged Hair". Perfect! Oli is terrified of snakes, but has some seriously thick hair that is tortured with a flatiron every day. And this is definitely one of the quirkiest gifts I could ever hope to bring back. It went into my basket, to the cash and out the front door.

Goodbye Izhiman, hello bakery. Papi loves sweets and baked goods; who were we to argue? He bought zatar bread, fresh pita and an assortment of arabic pastries for us to try... and laughed when we stocked up on black sesame breadsticks. Ooo, they had mint flavoured breadsticks too. We were going to need more jarred cheese for this.

We left Sweffiyeh with a full trunk and most satisfied with our visit. I crossed off #32 before we got back to the apartment, where yet another huge meal was waiting. A gigantic whole fish from the Red Sea, stuffed chicken, vine leaf wrapped rice rolls, hummus (I wasn't as overjoyed to see it yet again), and babaganouj. Better yet, we were joined by Raj's sisters and their kids.

Raj has one brother and two sisters, Nadia and Layla. They have two sons apiece, and really remind me of, well, me and Oli. The older one is shorter, mouthier and very much in charge. The younger has bigger eyes and likes denim jackets. They also happen to live next door to each other. Did I ever mention that Oli's townhouse is behind my loft? I liked watching them talk and argue, it made me nostalgic. Besides airports and her lack of the punctuality gene, Oli and I travel great together and it was refreshing to see sisters prod and insult one another, all in good fun, as much as we did.

After the meal, after the coffee, after yet another failed attempt at trying to read my future in the cup (I really have to brush up on that), Nadia started picking on Raj because he hadn't taken us shopping yet. James and I were just about on our knees praising her good senses when she ordered us all back into the car and back to Sweffiyeh for some decent retail therapy. When she told me she had a jewellery and pashmina addiction, it was all I could do from keeping her for life.

First stop jewellery and accessories store, where James picked up some cute things for his little sister, and I got a Yemeni necklace for ME. Yup, it's all about me right now. Second stop, pashmina store where I just about drowned myself in a cashmere ocean. I couldn't believe the quality of this stuff, and the prices to boot, easily half what they would have been at home. I got myself two gorgeously beaded works of art, and three silk shawls for moms. Would've draped Oli too but she's not a Bohemian like me.

Oli did get shoes, though. Leather wedge platforms that I knew she would die for. I never forget my big sister on an international shopping spree. Her purchase was made right as Sweffiyeh started to close, and so we loaded back into the car, dropped Nadia off and went back to the apartment where a big, big pile of laundry waited. Unfortunately, thanks to Raj's bad positioning of the drainage pipe, my bathroom got flooded and the three of us were reduced to mopping up the pools of soapy water with kleenex and paper towels. In such situations it's safe to say our true selves come out: I swore, Raj bitched, James took it all in. How I love my queens, even in the biggest messes. I was just titchy at the bad timing, see, cause it's not terrific for your bathroom to flood when you're busy preparing for Marco.