Shukri, my favorite antiques dealer and silversmith in the Old City`s Christian Quarter, has reached the most depressing decision I`ve ever heard from a shopkeeper in the Middle East.
”No more bargaining,” he stiffly declared one day as we were in the midst of heated negotiations that were headed for a good bargain for me
(honest-to-goodness Bedouin silver earrings for my wife).
”The tourists come in, offer half the price, and think I`m a crook if I don`t agree,” he grumbled. ”No more!”
If I had not recently seen signs in shops in Cairo and elsewhere saying
”Fixed Prices,” I would have let Shukri`s decision pass as a quirk, an exception, a bitter fruit from a bad tourist season.
But throughout the Middle East, where bargaining is a high art that demands constant practice and study, this ominous trend seems to have been gaining ground-with serious potential for the way of life in hundreds of markets from Damascus to Aswan.
Besides shopkeepers` dreams of getting the most from their buyers, especially foreign tourists, I suspect there is a weariness from coping with newcomers who brashly throw out a price, thinking they can become bargainers overnight.
A SOCIAL ENCOUNTER
To bargain in the Middle East is like taking part in an ancient dance of words and expressions. It is a social encounter not unlike asking for someone`s daughter or politely letting your neighbors know they make too much noise at night.
It is not, however, like looking up the price of a new car, kicking the tires, and laying your offer flatly on the line.
It demands patience, a good eye for bargains, a good ear for small talk-which can be diverting and ritualistic-and, most importantly, a kidney that can endure endless cups of tea or Arabic coffee.
It is better to start with tea, when asked, and switch to coffee only when the true end to the bargaining seems close. You can get by with five cups of tea, but not the same amount of strong coffee. Furthermore, Arabic coffee is usually offered in three fashions: sweet, average, plain.
Getting back to bargaining: You wonder how the dance of words begins?
It is a matter of eyes and feet.
If you are in Istanbul`s covered market and suddenly halt in front of an old copper lunch pail used by the Sultan`s soldiers and travelers at the turn of the century, you have sent your first message.
The merchant, aware of your interest, may invite you in, or take up the dance right there on the spot. He may start a banter about its price, and promise to give you the very best bargain of the day. It is proper to show interest, but financially dangerous to display absolute desire, or conviction that this is the one copper lunch pail you must buy.
BE SERIOUS
Definitely don`t begin the dance unless you are somehow serious about buying the item. The shopkeepers may eventually realize that they have wasted their time, and become furious. If you have doubts, make them clear so that the shopkeeper will not feel betrayed.
The Middle East`s markets abound in treasures in old copper and brass, antique rugs, hand-carved furniture, jewelry handed down for generations, old maps, hand-painted Korans and books, musical instruments, ceramic tiles and enough artifacts to re-create a Sultan`s palace.
Before amassing a collection, however, it pays to learn the difference between authentic and real, between a Bedouin necklace thrown together the day before and one just traded in by a Bedouin family. Many of the large markets are unfortunately awash with shops which have learned how to instantly churn out antiques.
The alleyways of Luxor and Aswan in Upper Egypt are similarly crowded with merhants who blithely claim that the murky stones they are selling are directly from the days of the Pharoahs.
If you spend some time with a shopkeeper who prizes his wares, he will help you learn the difference between a new coffee pot imported from India and a more valuable one made in Damascus. There are also numerous guidebooks to the rugs, jewelry and ancient dresses of the Middle East.
The most fascinating life stories are unraveled over coffee and tea in anticipation of a satisfactory business deal. Take advantage of the chance, if the shopkeeper is not busy, to admire the shop, their interest in the items, or the flow of life in the market.
BARGAINING ETIQUETTE
Certain basic rules of bargaining etiquette should not be broken.
It is proper to point out how much less expensive the item is elsewhere, but do not threaten to walk out, nor suggest that they are in any way over-priced. Let the shopkeeper mull the situation, and invite him to make his best offer.
One`s pride and dignity are crucial ingredients in the Middle East, and a visitor should be careful not to callously ignore them.
It is true that half of what a shopkeeper asks is usually a good starting point, but not all items are up for negotiation.
Time is not a consideration. Wander around the shop. Drop the bargaining and pick it up again. This is an evolutionary process, which once begun must reach its destination, so don`t hurry it.
If you decide on buying it, but want to come back the next day, don`t leave before the price has been agreed on. The next day the same rug in Baghdad`s old market may cost more simply because you were interested enough to return. This is a fact learned from experience.
CLOSING THE DEAL
Reaching a conclusion to the deal involves the most difficult steps. My wife has waited for hours until the silver almost melts on the bracelet she wants.
She has also been known to count out the money in her hand, place it carefully on the table at the right time, announce the deal completed, pick it up, and slowly make her way to the door. I`m usually as shocked as the shopkeeper, but I`m always hoping that the routine works.
On several occasions of quite serious bargaining, she has also used me as a foil, claiming that I only speak Turkish and am terribly opposed to her purchase. Play-acting is not an open violation of the bargainer`s code, and does add to the excitement.
Shukri, who moved to Jerusalem over 30 years ago, recalls the time he visited his native Turkey several years ago on a buying trip and kept the entire conversation with one shopkeeper in a small Turkish town in English.
At one point, the shopkeeper tired of Shukri`s bargaining and told his assistant in Turkish that Shukri was a son of a donkey, which is hardly a compliment. Shukri heard the remark, and asked what it meant. The shopkeeper politely replied that it was a statement of high praise.
After getting the right price for the antique, which he would sell at a profit in Jerusalem, Shukri turned to the shopkeeper and repeated the same words in Turkish that the shopkeeper had used to describe him-but not in the same praiseful manner.
The shopkeeper, recalled Shukri with a broad smile, quickly suspected that he had not won the bargain. –
