I have recently had the most exotic shopping experience in Morocco at the open-air market place called souq or souk in Tangier. I was mentally prepared that I would have to bargain but the intense energy (both emotionally and intellectually) of bartering was not what I expected. This event was more of a wooing, a tempting really, expertly orchestrated by the seller to lure me into a sale.
Desire is the defining word … for my part; I wanted to own a tajine (also called tagine) which is the name of Berber dishes prepared in a special type of cookware. (The Berber people are the native Moroccans who settled before Arabs and Islam came to Northern Africa.) Moroccan merchants are the best in the world at recognizing yearning and the man I encountered was no exception.  |
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My traveling partner had past experience haggling over price in Morocco and discussed market strategy with me before we headed to the bustling souk area, ultimately advising me to establish a mental price before entering into dialogue. This was sage advice because, as it turned out, the vendor was a marketing genius. Upon lingering at a colorful display of tagines, a smiling face approached, complimenting me on my choice. It is at this point that my ownership of the conical shaped clay pot became his entire point of being. He began by appealing to my vanity. I’ll bet you did not know that I am a special woman? If you took the time (as he did) to study the lines in my palm you would know this. Shamefully, this ploy did work … how astute of him to notice … my inner self inflated. Negotiations began … he was nonstop verbally with a humming of words that laced around me and the pot.
The price he offered was too high; I humbly lowered my eyes and expressed embarrassment with my inability to pay that amount although I did acknowledge that I was sure the exquisite yet functional piece was worth every dirham he requested.
No, no, no Miss. All prices will be considered. What will you pay?
Respectfully, I countered with another very low price. It was then that I realized: separating me from owning the unique piece of pottery was a highly trained professional enticer. His job is to close the gap between the product and price so that I do not walk out of the booth empty handed. The brilliant, psychological dance continued for several minutes. Did you know that I have an amazing inner soul? That he knew the minute I walked up to this pile of pots that I was different? Well, it is true, I thought as I purchased two pots (instead of one). Getting ready to leave (oh silly me), he implored me to enjoy a "free" panoramic look at the city. Why upstairs in his shop there is a rooftop where I could take a picture of Tangier … absolutely a stunning view. I paused … big mistake:) Why not take a minute to go upstairs and see? By this time, my friend was laughing at me but graciously followed me upstairs. Leading the way, my merchant continued to wrap me in flattery as I climbed each step.
Surprise! On the way to the photogenic vista there just happened to be three floors (or more? … we never saw the rooftop) stacked to the ceiling with hand-woven carpets. My head was spinning with the glow of how perceptive I am - almost paranormal - this compliment offered in between presentation after presentation of carpet and color. Rug after rug were unrolled before my adoring eyes. Forget the mental price; this is Morocco!
Did you know that a carpet can be folded neatly, compressed tightly with twine compacting it to a tidy carry-on fit for plane travel? Well, this is true. After an hour of being treated like a princess, and spending like one too, I have a couple of magic carpets I can show you. Oh yes, and the tajines, I think they were simply part of a carefully set tapestry snare. I've learned a lot. By the way, stop by and I'll cook you a delicious meal of lamb and prunes and afterward, you can go upstairs and take a picture of my backyard view. You said you needed a carpet, didn't you?
