The Art of Marchander

May 15, 2008

Hippos, wall hangings, fertility figures, statuettes representing days of the week, monkeys that hear, see and speak no evil, pirogue-shaped trays, woven baskets, djembes, rings and bracelets: all of these items and more are to be had at most any Senegalese market. It goes without saying that everything is of course made of the finest ebony (or at least driftwood that has been given a nice black finish with shoe polish) or pure silver (well, the top layer, anyway). The famous wax cloth called bazin (see article A Trip to the Tailor, http://www.traveling-stories-magazine.com/a-trip-to-the-tailor/#more-397) so beloved by the Senegalese comes in three grades, but no matter which you choose, you will inevitably be told that the one you have selected is the most valuable kind, and will therefore be priced accordingly. So the most useful skill to acquire immediately upon arrival is that of haggling.

A Swiss friend who was visiting bought black ballerina flats at the Sandaga market, probably the biggest and best known market in the downtown area. She had made up her mind beforehand to pay no more than 5,000 CFAs, or around ten dollars; it is not as though she really needed the shoes to begin with. It was more along the lines of getting some practice in, as she had lived in Africa for many years and wanted to exercise that certain haggly muscle, that blend of humor and testiness and obstinacy that is needed to get what you want for a reasonable price. A relative newbie, I observed the transaction in rapt fascination:

“How can you do this to me? Do you not want me to eat? But no, just offer a little more, meet me halfway,” the seller pleaded with a winning smile, palms turned upward.

Then: “Because you are my first customer of the day (not to worry, they always say this, even if it is 4 in the afternoon) I will give it to you for good price. It will mean bad luck for me all day if you do not buy.” He names a slightly lower figure.

My friend demurs, then shakes her head decisively, making a firm counteroffer. She will not pay any more. There is a momentary hesitation as he gauges the tilt of her head and her readiness to leave if he does not acquiesce. As she is already eying the next stall, which has a pile of the very same flats for sale, he finally emits a frustrated sigh and hands her the shoes furtively, as if he does not want anyone to see that the toubab has scored a victory, albeit a small one. It was akin to watching a couple do the tango: he would gesture heatedly and so would she, then she would walk away, then he would approach her again, and the whole scene would start again from the beginning, all done with excellent good humor on both sides, each accomplishing more or less what he/she had set out to do. Third world country or no, you truly are fully expected to bargain and go through the process (a very time-consuming one, I should add – ten minutes, minimum – not recommended for those in a hurry). As a greenhorn I was originally so offended by the astronomical prices the sellers first started with that I would walk away in an indignant huff. This, my friends, is the wrong reaction, in case you haven’t already guessed. It not only spoils the pleasure of the game but the – for want of a better word - the intimacy of the interaction. Just think about it: tourists spend a lot of their vacation time buying all kinds of trinkets, and via this process tourists are forced to have at least some sort of dialogue with the merchant, which is, given the nature of things, probably one of the longest conversations they will have with a local other than their tour guide.

The charming shoe seller even bought us a café Touba because he refused to return my friend’s change. Change is a scarce commodity in Senegal, especially when your skin is white. Whether the bill you give is large or small, the seller will invariably pretend to have difficulty making change, accustomed to the well-bred, guilt-ridden tourist who, sorry for causing trouble, will wave his hand magnanimously and say, “Oh, that’s all right, just keep the change.” If the seller does this throughout the course of his working day, he will have a tidy little sum to show at the end of it, free and clear: better than an IRA!

Such ingenuity is the distinguishing characteristic of any Senegalese. We passed by a shack in which little doodads made of recycled tin cans were fashioned. There was everything from serving trays made out of tomato puree tins to flowerpots made of Orangina cans to actual FURNITURE complete with drawers made out of recycled tuna tins – you know, the kind you generally throw away!

When, exhausted, you need a break from all the excitement of haggling, go to a wonderful three-story department store called Decotex. Prices are actually indicated on the items. After all you have just been through to purchase a handful of goods, it is the psychological equivalent for a Westerner of going to a spa.

(Photos by author)

About the Author : Tamara-Diana Braunstein brings us her stories from Senegal every week. She was born in Brooklyn, New York. She is a restless wanderer who earned an MA from the University of Freiburg and has worked in a youth hostel in the French Alps, a law firm in Montreal, the Metropolitan Museum of Art as well as in university press publishing. At the moment her home base is Dakar, Senegal, where she is supposed to be teaching but is doing far more learning, as you will see by reading her blog at www.senegalschoolmarm.blogspot.com