After a year and a half living in China, I should really be a better bargainer. I watch other women at the market debate the price of vegetables while I quietly hand over the 45 cents initially requested for my bag of onions and carrots. I know that bargaining is what’s expected, but I’ve never been able to get over my hatred for haggling. Until, that is, I arrived in Cambodia. Something about the market air is different here.
On our final morning in Phnom Penh, we headed to the Central Market to do a bit of souvenir shopping. Having seen a gorgeous photo of jewel-toned silks in my Lonely Planet, I was on the lookout for a piece of fabric for my mother. Eventually I saw what I wanted tucked away in a cabinet at a stall being manned by a teenage girl. The cabinet turned out to be on a little platform inside the stall, so we both kicked off our shoes and clambered up. She started pulling out silks of every color of the rainbow: magenta, purple, turquoise, green. Making up my mind was obviously going to be difficult.
But when I asked the price, I was dismayed. $55 for one piece of fabric was simply more than I had to spend. On previous occasions, I would have just walked away, but instead I made a joke about how I was a poor teacher, so I didn’t have that kind of money. She started laughing, and suddenly, the experience had become fun. She pulled out a few examples of cheaper fabrics, and when I made a face — they were ugly! — she only laughed harder. Gradually, the price of my first choice came down. When it finally reached “last price,” I felt comfortable paying it. And even better, I’d had a grand old time — one that will be a favorite memory of the trip.
Written from the road in Pakse, Laos. Subscribe to my RSS feed for more stories and come back in February for photos!
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