The crudely fashioned pendant was slightly tarnished and scratched. The chain was twisted. There was no clasp. And on the top right corner, where the “M” attached to the chain, there appeared to be a chicken foot.
It was nothing at all like the liquidy, flowing script I had imagined.
Someone later said, “Where’d you get that cheap hunk of metal?”
I said, “Well, I was told it was silver.” He laughed as he fingered the necklace, then pointed out that real silver has a stamp on the back. Silver also doesn’t bend.
“Also, what is that thing on the ‘M’?”
I said it’s supposed to be a lotus flower. The man giggled.
“Looks like a chicken foot,” he said.
I saw the Bedouin man again and told him that the necklace was a fake. He called his guy, there were some angry words exchanged in Arabic, then he calmed. When he got off the phone, he explained, “It doesn’t have a stamp on the back because this man uses such pure silver that there is no such stamp for it. It’s the fake silver that has a stamp, because they want you to think it’s real.”
He continued, “And it bends because real silver is soft. Fake silver has other metals mixed with it to make it strong.”
I didn’t want to get into an argument because it wasn’t worth it. The Bedouin obviously wanted to trust his guy, and there was no way I was going to win. I would just have to suck this up as a mistake.
I’ve been wearing the necklace for the past week, as I’ve been burrowing in another part of Egypt. The metal is already starting to rust, of course, but I love it anyway.
I feel like it actually does represent me and who I am right now. A little weak but pliable. Beautiful despite the imperfections. Authentic and precious in my own way.
Best of all, this necklace proudly declares my name for all the world to see: Maggie Chickenfoot.
No Comments