Corruption in Cairo Airport... (this could almost sound like a bad film title, huh?)

I am back in Cairo, where I shipped back all my belongings. Funny how, after such a long time, all my CD collection is in the same country...

Because I had too much luggage I had to ship a 32kg bad of cloths and books to Cairo.

Went to pick it up from the “Cargo Village” at the Cairo Airport, which I assumed - oh, so wrong I were - that I’d be able to swiftly recover my stuff.

Long story short, I had to display serious anger, including a threat to go to the police - I never thought it’d work - to be ushered in to the big ‘me3allem’, the Padrino (Godfather) if you wish, of customs workers. Sitting comfortably on the same chair in the Cargo zone’s cafeteria he’s occupied for the past 47 years - he’s been there since 1961, which is prior to the establishment of the Airport Customs Police itself - haj Yehya (or me3allem Ye7ya), high on his chair, surrounded by his various aides and sipping coffee, took my passport with his gold-laden hands, told his ‘boys’, through his coffee and smoke-stained four teeth, to do a number of things here and there, had them bring me the papers to sign. He even offered me coffee.

The whole thing took less than an hour - but cost me about 400 Egyptian pounds (50 euros), which either went to bogus charges (including sales tax (!)), various bribes and ‘3ideyya’, and of course the ‘fees’ of the Padrino.

And here’s the kick, though. Of the 400 EP, the customs duty on my bag were 2.5 EP. 0.625% of what I paid. 99.375% went to either legal, or to somehow tolerated corruption.

I've always agreed that corruption is a serious development problem, but it feels different to see it. Now if I were a trader and had to follow imported goods, say weekly, and had to go through the bribes dance every time, it would soon be economy untenable. Not to say the ridiculous waste of time, crucial if we're talking about perishable goods.
Where does solving the problem start, though? Most of the poor sods who asked for mini-bribes receive a ridiculous monthly pay, surely insufficient to feed a whole family. But then again - where do you pay them from?

One thing that Padrino Yehya did right, though, and which is worth underlining - by centralising the work around his own persona (and his cafeteria chair), I didn't have to pay his boys or follow them around everywhere; I only paid him, in a centralised location, which saved me time; while he redistributed the money.

In a sense, he did what the government failed to do. (And in the process, earned the money that the government should've earned).

On a completely different note - I've recently Amistad, which I had never done before. Djimon Hounsou is majestic. A majestic slave. The irony. A particular nod of admiration to the mast/crucifixion symbolism - a little over the top, but beautiful nevertheless.