
(Scene: early one morning in the Armenian Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem. I walk past a shopkeeper ["SK"] selling metal trinkets. *Note: 1 U.S. dollar = 3.5 Israeli shekels)
SK: Hey… hey! Come in here (motioning inside the shop), let me show you something.
Me: (With slight hesitation) okay.
SK: Everything in the shop today is 50% off.
Me: Wow, great.
SK: (pointing to a silver-plated goblet) See this cup? I’ll give it to you for a good price. Which one would you like? The one with the grapevine on it? Or this one with the city of Jerusalem design?
Me: I’m not sure.
SK: (handing the cup to me, and cleverly positioning himself between me and the entrance to the TINY hole-in-the-wall shop) Here, take it, hold it. You want this one?
Me: I really don’t know yet.
SK: Are you a student?
Me: Yes.
SK: You look like a student. Where are you from?
Me: Canada.
SK: Ah, Canada… my cousin lives in Montreal.
Me: That’s great.
SK: Here, you look like a nice person, I’ll give you a good price. Regular price 700 shekels–I’ll give it to you for three hundred. Shall I wrap it up for you?
Me: Uh… wait, no. I’m not sure I want it. (I hand the cup back to SK.)
SK: 300 is too much? Name your price. What are you willing to pay?
Me: (contemplating whether I would want it even if he offered it to me for free) I really don’t know.
SK: This is a good price. I just want to start my day, open my cash register. (*Note: This is a common thing… shopkeepers will want to start the day or the week off with a quick sale for good luck.)
Me: Well, I’m not sure if THAT CUP is what I want. Let me look around and see what else you have.
SK: Sure, you can look around.
Me: (Glancing at the hundreds of pieces of random stuff in the shop) Hmm…
SK: (pointing back at the cup) Here, I’ll sell it to you for 250 shekels.
Me: Um, no.
SK: This is a good price. You look like a nice person. This is a nice cup. Don’t you like it?
Me: I’m just not sure I want it.
SK: What price are you willing to pay? How about 200 shekels? It’s silver.
Me: No.
SK: You from Canada? Where are you from ORIGINALLY? China? Japan?
Me: Hong Kong.
SK: Ah, Hong Kong. Here, 200 shekels, I’ll sell it to you. I just want to start my day.
Me: I understand, but I’m not sure I want this cup. Let me look elsewhere in the shop.
SK: You look like a businessman. I tell you what–150 shekels. This is a great price. Price I give to family and close friends only.
Me: (stalling, trying to find an opportunity to leave) No, I don’t know if I want it. It’s too big. (After all, I would have to stuff it back in my already-full luggage.)
SK: It’s not too big… many other ones much bigger. Come on, one fifty. I just want to start my week. Quickly, I have to go pray soon; if you want it, take it… if not, fine.
Me: (Calling his bluff) Well, if you have to go pray, then I won’t waste any more of your time. Goodbye…
SK: Ok, ok, wait. 120 shekels, final price.
Me: (trying to leave) I don’t think I want it, thanks anyway.
SK: (blocking me) What do you want me to do? I give you a good price. You keep smiling. Just tell me what price you pay.
Me: I don’t want it. I’m a student, I don’t have much money.
SK: Yes, but keep smiling, keep smiling. 120 shekels is not too much.
Me: Well, it’s a lot of money… I’m a student, I still have many days in Jerusalem.
SK: Why won’t you help me. 120 shekels, I start my day, you get the cup. (Showing me the cup again) Here, look at it.
(This goes on for another five minutes; I look around the shop blankly, stalling, while he blocks my way out.)
SK: Ok, I tell you what–one hundred shekels. This is final price. I don’t know what you want. I just want to start my day.
Me: I understand, but I don’t want it.
SK: One hundred shekels, no better price anywhere.
Me: No, sorry, I have to go.
SK: 90? 80 shekels? (Seeing that I’m forcing my way out) Ah, yallah… get lost!
—————————–
My reflections on this experience:
1) Never pay more than ~10-15% of the “regular” price for a souvenir in the Old City.
2) I might actually have bought something if he’d just let me look around his shop.
3) When it comes to bargaining, we Chinese can always hold our own.