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Years ago some wag decided Cairo needed an international identity along the lines of New York's Big Apple, hence the nickname, "the Big Mango." It must have been summertime when the inspiration struck, as the heady smells of ripe mango get equal olfactory airtime here with burning trash and jasmine blossoms and honey-apple tobacco. But it's the sweet smell of that tobacco, not the mango, that I follow. It's my first day back in Cairo, and a friend, Mohamed Essam, has agreed to take me to the shisha, or waterpipe shop.
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