Çok Pahalı – That’s Too Expensive

Living abroad one invariably will notice differences between their mother country and their host country – be they cultural, social, religious, political, economic, etcetera. For me, one of the most significant of my daily routine is the presence of an intense and pervasive bargaining culture here in Turkey, it is truly polar-opposite to the ‘everything labeled and posted’ consumer system we have in the States. Having grown up in Southern California the system of economic transactions was based largely around explicit, specifically written, rules – menus with prices, correctly labeled shelves, accurately priced products, a general uniformity in price for similar goods, and corresponding trust between consumer and merchant. The Turkish system is not like this, it is wonderfully and horribly different.

The first difference to be noticed is in street salesmanship. Although the US has some corner-solicitors (Green Peace, UNICEF, etc.) it does not come close to the in-your-face angling that happens on every Turkish market street. Buyrun! Buyrun efendim! – Come in! Come in Sir!, they say. As I walk down the street I have merchants yelling at me to enter and listing what food or wares they have available that day. Its particularly funny when I am the only person walking by and they all start singing their salesman-siren songs in chorus to (at) me, only to here them slowly quiet down as leave the vicinity. It took my a while to get used to, and it doesn’t bother me much anymore. However, one thing that I will never become accustomed to is a merchant stepping in my walking path to try to get me in his store. It angers me more than it should, and I am determined not to change course and force the intrusive peddler to get our of my way – so far, no mid-sidewalk collisions. Why are they so aggressive? My ideas; First, its a bargaining culture where salesmanship is important. Second, money – people need it, so they need to sell. And third, their stands and stores are packed with countless items that overflow onto the sidewalk – they must take forever to set up every morning. The more they sell the less they have to haul back in at night. Perhaps, if I were in their place I’d be a fiendishly aggressive merchant as well.

The Jungle

If I submit, the next step in the transaction is the initial pricing and bargaining. There are sometimes no labeled prices and interacting with the vender at every stage of the buying-experience is a must (unlike the US system where you often will not see someone until you pay, and even then perhaps not). The prices, upon hearing my accent, are often too high. I do not usually pay this price. At this point we are at a stalemate, the ball is in the vendor’s court. More often than not they ask about me and offer me a seat and drink a tea. Getting to know your customer is a widely practiced salesman tradition here, even by a man (they are mostly men) selling soap or backgammon boards. At this time the interaction can go two ways; EITHER, they become increasingly bent on making a sale, perhaps excited by the prospect of making a 200% profit off an ignorant foreigner. Now that I am familiar with how much things should run, or at least where I can get them cheaper, I fall for this less than before. Mostly they resign themselves and start yelling to other potential customers, but often I perceive genuine anger that they cannot extort me and will never come down to even a reasonable price. But this is a fraction of the time.

OR, more commonly, there is a positive reaction to my bargaining prowess – and this part, I think, is truly indicative to Turkish cultural hospitality and one of the many reasons I love it here. We start to talk, mostly about me; where I am from, why I am in Turkey, whether or not I like Turkey, why I am learning Turkish, etcetera. They almost always compliment me on my Turkish and say how good it is. They then often tell me of a family member living abroad, usually in the US or Canada, but sometimes they’ll tell me about relatives living in the Czech Republic or Japan as if ‘abroad’ is one place and their nephew living in Germany has any significance for me. But, it’s well-intentioned conversation and I politely ask follow-up questions. I do enjoy these friendly vendors a lot. When we finally get back to talking shop the price will have reduced dramatically. Indeed, there is a direct correlation to how long I talk to the person and how low the price is. Sometimes, I am convinced they are selling to me at a loss.

After the deal is struck the friendly vendors will often throw in extra shit that I usually don’t want (stickers, extra onions, a lighter), but would be impolite to refuse. The other day I bought flowers for my girlfriend at a sidewalk cart, and after talking a while, after paying, when I was ready to leave he abruptly handed me a second bouquet and told me to have a nice day. I gave my girlfriend two bouquets of flowers that day.

So, compared to the well-organized but sterile department store culture of America, the Turkish consumer system, despite is Americanization (malls), remains frustrating, warm, flexible, and exciting.

-Charles P. Pearson