Friday, July 3, 2009

The Things We've Bought

It never ceases to amaze me that we can get on a plane and a few hours later step off not just in a new country but in a totally different environment. Last week we took a crazy series of flights to go from Antananarivo, the beleaguered capital of Madagascar, to Tunis, the bright faced capital of Tunisia.

Tunis

Building where The English Patient was filmed, Tunis medina

I'll be the first to admit this was a change we really really needed. Madagascar was nice, to be sure, but it was also pretty overwhelming. Tunisia is no walk in the park, but it's decidedly different and much easier to handle than Madagascar was.

Bulla Regia

Mosaic in underground home, Bulla Regia

It's hot here, and dry, and very sunny. The food is not so good and neither are the hotels but the ease of travel and just being makes life more enjoyable. They are used to tourists here -- though there are none at the moment -- and so you're more left alone. The culture is Arab and North African; it's man-based without being too manly, Muslim but relaxed, and African in its own way. It's also decidedly French, and I've bveen putting my French to work this past week as we make our way around the country.

We spent our first day in Tunis, mostly in the World Heritage listed medina, before taking a train west to Bulla Regia, where we toured the ruins of a Roman city built almost entirely below ground. From there we took a louage -- a sort of minibus shared taxi -- south through emerging desert to Sbeitla, where the locals spoke French with an Italian accent and where we visited the intact ruins of another Roman city. We then took a cramped louage east to Kairouan.

Bulla Regia

Roman theater, Bulla Regia

Kairouan is home to the Great Mosque, the holiest site in North Africa and the fourth holiest site in all of Islam. As with most Islamic centers, the Great Mosque is nothing much to look at though it is a peaceful spot.

The medina of Kairouan is also World Heritage listed and likely the nicest, though not the most interesting, medina we've been to -- the most interesting title, by way, would definitely go to Marrakech. It's got a fresh, clean feeling to it, and is genuinely friendly.

Sbeitla

Roman temple, Sbeitla

Kairouan is also the home of the Tunisian carpet weaving industry, and a walk dozn the streets here is like a walk through a museum of fantastic hand woven carpets.

We came to Kairouan as much to buy a carpet as we did to see the mosque and the medina, though I do feel a bit guilty traveling to somewhere with the aim of shopping.

Kairouan

Medina, Kairouan

We have bought quite a few things on this trip, and since we have mailed all of the items home it's hard to recollect exactly what all we've got:

-big painting bought at the Sunday market in Buenos Aires
-hand painted pottery in Uruguay
-scarves in Bolivia
-wall hangings in Thailand, Laos, Philippines, Peru
-frankincense in Oman
-Iranian rug in Oman
-purse in Philippines
-jewelry in Malaysia, Thailand, Chile, Argentina and Indonesia
-essential oil perfume in Thailand
-rice baskets in Philippines
-woven bag in Madagascar
-handsewn hankerchief in Australia
-silk pillow cases in Thailand

Kairouan

Medina, Kairouan

There are few capitalist experiences in the world which match the process -- and I do mean process -- of buying rugs. If you are used to getting your rugs at a suburban shopping mall there is really no way to make a comparison.

Think of yourself, the shopper, as the girl, and the rug sellers as the boy. What you do is coyly walk down the middle of the rug street eyeing discreetly which shops have the carpets you might like to buy -- the carpets are not only inside the stores but hanging on rungs outside. You actually do have to walk in the middle of the street because if you are too close to the stores the rug sellers will actually physically grab you and pull you into the stores. As you walk down the street, trying not to make eye contact, rug sellers are going into a literal frenzy to try and get your attention, calling out in French, English, German and Italian for you to come inside out of the heat and just look -- always it's 'just look, my friend.' (Once a salesman said in a phrase we have always remembered 'Why you no love me no more? Today one said 'I love Kansas City.') As you choose your store and walk inside you can literally hear groans emitting from the other carpet salesmen.

Kairouan

Medina, Kairouan

Once inside legions of boys dozing in the heat just seconds earlier are barked into attention by the store manager. The boys unfurl carpet after carpet with flambouancy which itself is a part of the spectacle. Carpets are laid on top of each other. Merely shake your head at one and the manager snaps at a boy to get it quickly out of your sight. If you make it past the first few minutes and still seem interested the manager makes a call and the owner comes. Now we're getting somewhere.

With the owner in the store the boys assume a posture not unlike one you'd display before a commanding officer. Carpets are rolled up and scooted out of your way as fast as new ones are unrolled. Lights are dimmed and turned back on. Carpet jokes are made (the best is, turning the carpet over and saying 'you buy one side, you get the other for free). Not so funny jokes are made about buying five carpets and getting the sixth for half price.

Kairouan Great Mosque

Great Mosque, Kairouan

Inevitably the pile is whittled down to three or four, the boys looking nervous, and the owner turns to you and says, Have you had our famous mint tea. Now is a critical time in the carpet buying escapade. While there is no promise to buy, the serving of the tea notches things up a bit. The owner snaps at the boy and says in English, 'Bring them tea -- and bring the good stuff this time.'

Never once has price been discussed during this entire ordeal, and it's a bit of a crapshoot. Nothing is marked, of course, so you have no idea if even a single small carpet is going to be affordable. That means you could have spent the preceeding hour wasting everyone's time. Nevertheless, because prices are so fluid, and the culture here so reserved, you simply can not come out and demand 'How much does the red one cost?

The owner brings out a big calculator and punches some numbers in, erases them and starts over, screams something in Arabic at the manager, and turns to you with a smile. Normally, he says, this carpet is 500 dirham, but because business is so slow I will give it to you for only 450 dirham.

The next half hour is a tense period of passing the calculator back and forth, plenty of 'Mon Dieus,' me saying in French, Do you think I am a cash vending machine? more cups of the famous mint tea, the boys folding the rugs up to show just how easily the carpets can fit into overhead luggage, and finally a handshake.

Deal over. Except for tipping the boys.

We got not one but two beautiful Tunisian rugs. The boys, in such a hurry to show how easily the rugs can be carted around, had wrapped them up even before the deal was finished. That means I can't post photos of them. But as proof of how nice they are, I can report that Laura is very, very happy.

1 comment:

steven hatcher said...

Excellent. Not only will you never be able to buy those rugs in a suburban mall but you will never, ever come close to being a part of the folklife that is the carpet buying experience unless you are there.

Good one.