Ethiopia Journal: Day 6 (December 29) Shopping in Addis

Tuesday morning, we were delivered by bus to a strip of shops and given an hour and a half to shop for, haggle over and purchase everything we wanted to take home with us from Ethiopia.

Stress. Full.

For me, that 90 minute shopping trip was as exhausting, if not more, than the 30+ hour trip home, including over 20 hours in the air with an infant.

Because I like and am blessed to own own many nice things, it often surprises people that I really, really do not like to spend money and I don't particularly like to shop. I rarely make impulse purchases. I wait for sales when possible. I almost always carry a list to the store and I usually research and compare prices before making any big purchases.

But . . . I'm a terrible haggler. Stink at it. When I want something, it must show in my eyes. No good poker face have I. My if-you-don't-meet-my-price-I'm-going-to-walk-away act has never been convincing. I never go to an antique fair, and wouldn't dream of buying something like a car, without Hus-B by my side. He knows every sales tactic and script in the book. It's like a big game to him--a game he usually wins. I imagine his success probably also has something to do with the fact that, since he doesn't have the tendency to get emotionally attached to something like a piece of furniture or an article of clothing, no real acting skills are required for him to walk away like he doesn't care.

It was important to me to purchase some Ethiopian items for our home and as keepsakes from the trip. There were a few items we knew we wanted to purchase. One was a full-sized mesob table. Others were jewelry, a Bible written in Amharic, bulk coffee, everything needed to perform a coffee ceremony and some traditional scarves and clothing. Other than that, we were pretty clueless about what types of items would be available. Also, we had no frame of reference with respect to how much anything would or should cost. These things would need to be figured out as we went.

For the agency-arranged shopping excursion, we were asked to either leave the children at the hotel with one parent or take them back to Hannah's Hope for the morning. Since Miss K had been so attached to her special mothers, we were concerned that returning her to the orphanage might confuse her or cause a setback in our bonding, so we decided that one of us would hang out with her at the hotel while the other shopped.

Our friends T and A instructed us to never to pay asking price for anything and advised that the actual price of any item is usually about half of the original quote. Dickering over the price was expected. While Hus-B would have been better suited for that aspect of the trip, he told me I was too picky (probably true) and that there was no way that he was going to take responsibility for picking out things like dresses, scarves and items for our home. Our friend A had also offered to take us shopping. Instead of burdening him with an entire day of shopping, we decided that Hus-B and A would take care of any specific items we wanted that I was unable to find or get a good deal on.

So off I went with my travel pouch full of Birr, a preliminary shopping list and high expectations about finding lots of neat stuff. We got off of the bus at 9:45 and were told to be back at 11:15. I'm still not clear why the trip was scheduled to be so short, as an increase in time would have directly correlated with a decrease in the stress.

The first thing I noticed as we entered the first shop was that prices were not marked on anything. I walked around picking up items I liked and asked the shopkeepers how much each one was. Most items were inexpensive. Cheap, actually. Children's dress and scarf sets for 150 Birr (exchange rate was 12 Birr for $1USD). Banana leaf paintings for 50 Birr. Scarves for 100 to 150 Birr. Black clay coffee pots for 30 Birr.

I felt like if I found something I liked I needed to purchase it right then. I considered that I might find something similar down the road for a better price, but since I was racing against the clock, I was concerned that if I didn't come across the same item, I wouldn't have time to go back to where I originally saw it--or that I'd forget which of the shops (they all looked alike from the outside) I'd seen it in. Oh, the pressure!

I asked about the cost of each item I liked, then started piling all of my goodies by the cash register thinking I would wait until checkout time and then negotiate the total. In retrospect, a better strategy would probably have been to negotiate each item at the time I was looking at it or to purchase only a couple of items from each store.

By the time I was checking out of the first store, everyone in our group had moved on. Had they negotiated prices? How much success did they have? Were we all quoted the same price for the same items? I had no idea. My items were tallied up. 3500 Birr (just under $300). Now it was my turn to play the dreaded game. "Will you take 2000?" I asked (with a smirk on my face I'm sure, but it was more than half so I thought it was generous counter-offer). The shopkeeper acted offended. The guy with the calculator who had tallied it all up laughed to himself. I thought for a second . . . what would Hus-B do? The walk away act? I knew they would never fall for it from me. And by now, we were about 45 minutes into our 90--how could I possibly find all of that stuff elsewhere? "How about 2500?" I asked (I'm sure I was wearing some sort of sheepish grin). Same reaction. They guy with the calculator pointed to my pile of stuff and dramatically shook his head no. He and the shopkeeper had an animated conversation in Amharic (one of those moments that I really wished I secretly knew the language that was being spoken) and came back with "3200 Birr, no less". I waived my white flag. I ended up haggling a savings of $25 off of a $291 original price.

While I loved the things I purchased, and I believed I got a lot for my money, in light of T and A's instruction to always pay half, I felt like a failure and was worried that I spent a ton more money than anyone else. On a positive note, I reminded myself that at least I was putting money into the Ethiopian economy; hopefully it would be a blessing to the shopkeeper and her employees' families. After they bagged up my stuff, they thanked me and hugged me like I was an old friend. Before I walked out the door, the shopkeeper took my hand and put this bracelet on my wrist: Sweet of them, I thought, or perhaps they just felt sorry for running me over. I hurried to catch up with the rest of the group. I purchased a few more items (with as much success with subsequent price negotiations as the first). About 70 minutes into the shopping period, completely frazzled and drained, I gave up. I decided that any subsequent purchases (I still hadn't found the mesob table, Bible, coffee cups or jewelry) would have to be purchased by Hus-B. I made my way back to my seat on the bus and collapsed with my bags.

As the bus pulled away from the shops, I looked down at the bracelet I had proudly been wearing and it all clicked. That bracelet must be the sign of the sucker. No wonder no one would negotiate with me. Although I'm not 100% certain, I'm pretty sure the shopkeeper at the first store marked me as a pushover.

We went to an upscale Italian restaurant in downtown Addis for lunch. Speaking of Italian, I noticed a lot of Italian influences and restaurants scattered about Addis, likely a carryover from Mussolini's 1936 invasion of Ethiopia and Italian occupation which continued until Selassie was restored to the throne in 1941. As in Italy, "ciao" is a very common salutation among Ethiopians.

It was great to just sit, unwind and chat with others from our travel group over a long, leisurely lunch of bruschetta, salad, pizza and Cokes, and surrounded by some gorgeous artwork by Ethiopian artists. I was relieved to learn that no one else had any remarkable negotiating victories to share and that I wasn't the only one who'd found the whole experience to be downright stressful. We were obviously dropped off at a tourist shopping strip so maybe they just do things differently. Who knows. I hoped Hus-B would be impressed with all I returned with.

(Photo courtesy of The M Family)

As we made our way back to the bus, several beggars gathered around us. A couple of mothers with babies. A blind man. We saw a man with no legs dragging himself along the sidewalk using primitive crutches consisting of small wooden blocks with handles. Somehow as we were boarding the bus, a young man--probably between 15 and 20 years old--managed to blend our crowd and get on with us. His eyes were crossed and his legs were crooked. His body was hunched over a rough, wooden cane. His pants were falling down, exposing his buttocks. It was pitiful. Several of us tried to hold back tears we scrambled to find some Birr to place in his outstretched hand while the driver carried him back down the aisle and off of the bus.

While I was out, Hus-B discovered another of Miss K's favorite things--music--especially Ethiopian music. I walked into our hotel room and found Hus-B and Miss K dancing around the room to Ethiopian music videos playing on the TV. It was the sweetest sight.

Since we've been home we've found that she has no interest in watching Praise Baby or Baby Einstein, but will go wild if I pull up something like this on YouTube (before watching the video, please scroll down and pause (II) the background music): She just loves it! Bounces to the beat, kicks her legs, claps her hands and squeals along to the lyrics. A sure way to capture and hold her attention if I need a few minutes to put on some makeup or pop something in the oven!

Despite all of the new dance moves he had been practicing (and would proceed show off to everyone the following night at the cultural dinner), Hus-B was feeling a bit cooped up at the Union. Since A had to work, he'd made plans to spend the afternoon doing a little shopping of his own with G and M. They were scheduled to pick him up just a few minutes after I arrived, so I didn't have time to show him anything I'd purchased or tell him anything about my experience, other than that I needed him to look for the mesob table, Bible, coffee cups, incense and jewelry.

I enjoyed spending the afternoon one-on-one with Miss K. As soon as Hus-B left, she let me give her a bottle and fell asleep in my arms. I eased myself down onto the bed to recover from my shopping experience as she slept peacefully on my chest for the next couple of hours. She woke up happy and we played with some of her toys until Hus-B returned from his shopping excursion.

Hus-B asked G and M to take him where they would shop. He told them he wanted to purchase items they would buy for their own use--he didn't want the equivalent of stuff that Florida tourists might take home from a Clearwater Beach T-shirt shop (although I'm sure some of my purchases would probably be classified that way, I still love everything we brought home). G and M took him to the Addis Merkato (see, another Amharic word with Italian origins).

The Merkato is the largest market in Africa. It covers several square miles. Over 13,000 men, women and children work in the market. It's the real thing, not a tourist trap. Hus-B was the only caucasian person he saw there the entire afternoon. This is where the families of Addis come to shop and where merchants buy and sell. The Merkato consists of both modern shopping center/mall-type buildings and muddy-floored booth-type shops with and center aisles covered by tin roof. Items for sale were stacked from floor to ceiling, and merchants sell everything from locally-grown agricultural products, most notably coffee, to clothes, furniture, shoes, jewelry, animals and even plastic buckets and other housewares imported from China. Most of the vendors specialized in a single type of item. Women were grinding rocks into incense at the incense booth. Merchants and buyers were using donkeys to transport their goods to and from the stalls. Men with clipboards were walking from booth to booth collecting taxes or rent. These shopkeepers were way too busy for any long drawn out negotiations. Prices were shouted back and forth and transactions were closed quickly. It was as high-energy as the floor of the New York Stock Exchange.

Hus-B told G and M what he was looking for and they knew where to find everything and handled price negotiations on his behalf. When it was time to purchase the mesob table, G and M turned down a narrow alley--Hus-B thought they were taking a shortcut between aisles--that turned out to be another full strip of shops alongside a tiny hallway no more than 4 feet wide--barely enough room for two people to pass. They ducked into a shop entrance flanked by mesob tables and entered a small room about 10 feet square with a ceiling only 5 feet high and crammed so full of mesob tables that there was hardly room to stand. He selected the beautiful table that has now graces our sun porch and had a man at an adjacent shop stitch up a bag for it out of a tarp-like material.

I knew G and M had returned with Hus-B when I saw the hotel's gate man walking up the front steps of the Union carrying our mesob table, wrapped in the tarp-bag (which seemed bigger now that we actually owned it; we'd figured we'd buy it first then decide how we'd get it home). I took Miss K downstairs to meet G and M and of course they made a huge fuss over her. After visiting for a bit, we went up to our room to lay everything we'd bought that day out on our bed and oooh and aaah over what each other had found. Hus-B thought I did okay and didn't hold it against me that I may not have gotten the best deals.

Here are a few of my favorite items that we purchased:

Mesob table: Coffee pots, cups, incense burner and coffee ceremony stand: At 1000 Birr (about $85USD), this dress was one of the more expensive items I purchased. I just love the classic cut and details: Gorgeous scarves: Trio of painted banana-leaf mosaics: Decorative drum: Delicious shade-grown, dark-roasted Ethiopian coffee: Beautiful children's dresses with matching scarves: Amharic Bible: Carved wooden Coptic cross and other wooden and silver carved and painted Ethiopian Orthodox Art: Silver and green beaded prayer box necklace (matches my green dress): Silver and Eritrean amber necklace: These adorable hats (worn last weekend by my three even more adorable little girls):

(Photo courtesy of Big Star Photography)

We had dinner in the dining area of the lobby with a couple of the other families in our group, then Hus-B and some of the guys in the group walked to the Addis Golf Club (less than a mile away, but don't picture a U.S. country club, this place was much more modest but did have a basic course, a pretty good restaurant and, most importantly, wi-fi) while I retreated to our room to give Miss K her bath and evening bottle.

Hus-B was back and we were all asleep in bed by 9 p.m. The hotel was quieter that night. Only a few cries. Children and parents were getting to know each other. Miss K slept between us all night, waking up 3 or 4 times for a diaper change and bottle--and she even let me be the one to get up with her 2 of those times!