We arrived at the artisanal market in the morning. Vendors had just begun opening the doors to their shops. Some were stacked to the ceiling with rugs and blankets. Others were filled with various wooden crafts. Some vendors sold paintings on canvas and others sold bracelets, headbands, and bags. I was perusing the shops for a rug to liven up the plain, black tiles of my dormitory floor. As I was wandering in and out of stores, I struck up a conversation with Edwin, one of the vendors. I asked about the rugs he was selling, and he began pulling out some of the different patterns.
“250 Quetzales,” he offered.
“Eh, 120 Quetzales,” I counter.
“200 Quetzales.”
“120 Quetzales.”
Our bartering was mixed with jokes and conversation, as if to offset the awkwardness of bargaining. Both of us mixed English with Spanish. Our conversation was jovial.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“The United States, Michigan,” I replied, pointing to the University of Michigan t-shirt I was wearing, “it’s much warmer here than in Michigan.”
“Yes, definitely. Ok, 180 Quetzales,” he replies.
“130 Quetzales.”
“You cut my price in half!”
“Of course, I drive a hard bargain, 130 Quetzales. C’mon my friend.”
“150 Quetzales, that’s my offer. It is only 20 Quetzales more.”
“130, that’s only 20 Quetzales less.”
“Haha, you’re funny.”
“130 Quetzales and a hug.”
Edwin chuckles. After some more bargaining, we settle on 130 Quetzales and me suggesting his shop, stall #36, to my teammates: a deal that I made sure to honor.
“Hasta mañana, Edwin!”
“Hasta mañana!”
- Kevin Jiang