The monkey made me do it

The art of the barter

Chichicastenango is a wonderful little town in southeastern Guatemala that puts on a helluva show every Thursday and Sunday. Its market is enormous and has established the town as one of the largest Mayan trading centers in the area.

We were able to spend only one day there, but it was long enough to turn even the meekest tourist into a hardened, stubborn bartering machine. Our bus ride down was spent making sure that all in our group knew the Spanish way to say "ooh, that's too expensive", "how about half that price?" and "I saw it cheaper elsewhere", but many were sure they wouldn't be able to use them. Things changed as we pulled into our parking place and 50+ young girls with armloads of colorful merchandise swarmed the bus.

I stepped out, a woman on a mission (I was shopping for many gifts, in addition to helping my friend stock her shop) and blew past the girls with smiles and many "no, gracias"s. Most of them found new targets, but one girl who was about 11-12 years old took that as a challenge. "Mi amiga!" became "Mi amiiiiiiiga!", which became "Mi am-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-ga!" as she tried to interest me in her kitchen magnets. She followed me down the aisles of the market, and I continued to inform her (in Spanish) that I was very glad that she was my friend, but that I didn't want any magnets and if she was a true friend, she wouldn't try to make me buy them. We had a cheerful banter going that got more and more ridiculous, until I was claiming that I didn't have a kitchen while she frantically waved a knitted chicken teapot cover. Finally she found some hairbands in her bag of goodies that folded out to kerchiefs that were really cute, and I was actually interested (this was probably a good hour after she'd started tailing me, and the "Amiga" now stretched out for 5 minutes and she had to take a breath in the middle). She offered them for 20 Quetzales (local currency, named after a bird, that equals about 7.5 Quetzales to 1 US dollar) and I said I'd like the "special friend" price of 5 Quetzales. She told me all about how she needed to buy food, school, clothing, and that 20 was already the "friend" price (smiling all the while - she was good! Also well fed, dressed prettily, and smart). I shrugged and wandered on, filling my arms with textiles, sculptures, and ceramics at amazing deals (the trick = take the price they offer, halve it, subtract a bit and start there. Expect to end up around 60% of the original gringo price. If you buy more than 1 of the item, offer more like 40%). After another 1/2 hour we agreed on 5 Quetzales and I took a couple of them. My friend from the group overheard the price and bought 4 on the spot (mi amiga didn't like that so much but Quetzales are Quetzales). She then tried to reinterest me in the magnets but I gave her a tip and a hug and sent her on her way.

Another little girl came by later on as I was bartering with a shopkeeper for some woven purses. She was wrapping them up and I noticed the tiny little kid (she looked about 6 but had to have been older) with her baby brother tied to her back with a large cloth. She said "only 1 Quetzale!" and I turned to her and decided to have some fun. I didn't even glance at what she was holding out to me, but instead replied "Only 1 Quetzale for the baby? That's really cheap!" Her eyes got big and she giggled and started to protest but I kept going. "You really should charge more. It's a cute baby! I don't think I want one though..." (I smiled at the baby and it smiled back) "...you could get at least 50 Quetzales, I think, but I don't know how I would get it home. Babies are kind of messy and big, and my luggage is pretty full already. Sorry, I'm going to have to pass on this but you should really reconsider your price." She was laughing so hard that the baby strapped to her started to giggle too. Soundly defeated in her sales pitch, she waved and disappeared into the crowd.

The longest barter of the day came when I stepped into a woodworking shop and spied a carved hardwood shrimp-type creature. It was really well done, and the woods were beautiful. I didn't need it, so when the shopkeeper noticed by interest and offered me a high price I told him that while I thought it was pretty, I didn't want it. He followed me out the shop door and offered 100 Quetzales lower. I told him that I'd only pay a price that was about 1/3rd of what he originally offered, intending to make him give up on my cheap US behind and go on to his other customers. He said he couldn't do it and I left to shop elsewhere. Hours later when we were returning to the bus I happened to wander by his shop again and he came running out, agreeing to my price! I was amazed that he recognized me (yes, there were other gringos there) and that he'd go down that low, but I couldn't refuse now that he'd called me on my offer. I got him to throw in a t-shirt (hey, once you start with the barter it's hard to stop) and am now the proud owner of the best-made hardwood lobster/shrimp/?? creation in all of the northwest region. Guaranteed.

It may sound counterintuitive, but I've found that the bartering process actually allows me to be more sensitive, make a closer connection, and to feel even more like I'm supporting the shop owner than just going in and paying a fixed price. It's part of the culture of Chichicastenango (and the surrounding areas) and it personalizes purchasing and is built into the economy. I would never attempt it up here (I'm not even a coupon cutter!) but in the right context it really does add another layer to what otherwise is a purely commercial endeavor.

posted by LadyJay @ 10:54 AM