A Break from Bargaining

Yesterday morning I went with a few friends to visit a component of Kenya’s informal sector: the Kuriako market. At this market, Kenyan men and women make and sell handmade goods. Baskets, jewelry, sandals, carvings…everything. Prices are not set, and showing up with white skin is a recipe for a rip-off.

I was nervous going in because I had heard about the aggressive men who surround the place and try to act as brokers for the foreigners who dare to set foot in the market. Sure enough, as soon as we stepped out of our cab, we were bombarded.

“America, from America?”

“Mzungu, where you from?”

“From Obama, yeah?”

"You are a student, no? Me, too. You can trust me."

“You come with me; I show you; I give you good price.”

These situations always cause an internal struggle for me. It pains me to blatantly ignore people’s questions or to refuse to shake their extended hands. But, seriously, these guys were overwhelming. I gave them clipped answers and attempted to out-walk them. I had heard that the best strategy at this market was to deal directly with the makers of the product. So that’s what I decided to do.

And I loved it! I talked to the women in Swahili and asked them about their products. A few were almost motherly, telling me to avoid the brokers swarming around. One said, “you come straight to the mamas; we’ll give you the best prices. Those men are bad.”

At one stand, I brushed off a bothersome broker and the young shopowner, Rose, invited me into her space. She pulled down hand-woven baskets and purses and explained to me their differences. I got up the nerve to ask her the prices, preparing to be astounded. And I was, but not because they were expensive! They were unbelievably fair. “Wewe ni rafiki yangu,” she said laughingly. (You’re my friend.)

I stayed for a while and, with her input, selected my favorites. After paying my bill, I realized it had begun to rain. Rose pulled a bench from under her table and invited me to sit and wait out the downpour.

So I did. We had a great conversation in Kiswahili about her business and life and about my time in Kenya. The rain eventually stopped and soon my friends showed up, ready to go. The visit was a refreshing departure from the rip-off world I have grown accustomed to. I feel like I’ve only talked about the negative aspects of Kenyan culture, but nice, honest people like Rose exist here too!