Day 118 (Iran): Tehran (haggling in the bazaar)

After a late start and spending some time uploading pictures I headed to the bazaar. Really, just to see the place and have a look around. As Isabelle needed some information from some of the carpet traders I actually had a concrete task before me too.

This turned out to be really interesting. Just as a background note, the bazaaris here in Tehran hold immense power. Because of their economic prowess (apparently more than half of the country’s trade is being undertaken here) they are also extremely influential politically. All of this is in some way palpable when you wander around. The stalls some of the sellers and traders are sitting in may be small, but they still ooze money in a big way. I am sure I haven’t even seen anything, but you get a certain feel.

The place is also full of surprises. Taking a back alley (the place is like a city onto itself) you move from the leather department to the pen and paper area, yet another brings you to the carpet people. You find traffic jams like these which are caused by the same frenzy and craziness that characterizes Tehran traffic.

My meeting with one of the carpet people to ask for some large-size cushions that are common here was interesting. Isabelle wanted 15 of them in a certain make and with a certain style. So, there wasn’t really any room for maneuvering and the question really came down to being able to deliver. I bumbled around for a bit and sure enough a trader approached me. We went up into his store (well, a little den if you ask me) and the haggling started right off. They wanted to seel carpets. I was pretty firm on wanting large cushions. Yes, I want them complete, not just the cover so that they can be stitched together in Germany. “This is so heavy for transportation. You surely can’t want that.” So he proceeded to want to sell the covers only. Here is what I had to learn. You don’t tell a Bazaari what you want. You are lucky if you can close a deal with him. That’s how it works. Sort of like doing business in Brussels it seemed.

So, the first crack wa a bit difficult. When I said that I wasn’t going to buy anything right away, he wanted to leave and also didn’t want to give me his business card. I said fine, I can find this stuff elsewhere. This went on for some minutes. He went off about having 1000s of such cushions and can give me the best price. I am sure everyone would say the same. So after a while of back and forth I laid down what I wanted, slightly fed up. This startled him and he gives me a long hard look. I explain the situation to him, Isabelle being pregnant and not wanting to come to the bazaar. I tell him again what I need and all of a sudden everything changes. He offers me tea, tells me that he’s got the goods that I am looking for and can deliver at my convenience. He says that this is not the way to make a deal here, but that it was fun and whether I want to come in to chat some more. This is me being entirely ignorant of the customs and the power relations here. You don’t come in and tell the guy what you want, but must make a long-winded conversation first. Then maybe you can tell him what you would like and then maybe he doesn’t try to sway you in some form. That didn’t work though as I needed the price for specific items. It was still great fun though and maybe not just for me.

More wandering around brings about more power outages, some strange counterfeit goods and green men.