“How come the random lady that sold me my sandals is suddenly my aunt?”
Maasai markets are open-air markets found in different parts of Nairobi City, Kenya where locals and visitors can purchase handmade authentic fabrics, clothing, paintings, wall hangings, pottery, jewelry, bags and so much more from some of Kenya’s most crafty, creative and talented people.
They are akin to farmer’s markets and pop-up shops as they happen on specific days like Thursdays for the one I usually go to when I’m in Kenya. This past summer I spent an amazing month in Kenya and just had to accompany my mom to the market for the truly unique finds. After all, the market is a go-to spot for tourists that come from all around the world wanting to take a bit of Kenya home with them.
On one of these fine Thursdays, I was extremely excited to go to the market. Maybe find some cute wood carvings for my friends or an African print dress for myself, honestly the options were limitless. The crazy long time it took to finally get to the market-because Kenyan traffic is insane, like 2 hours in the same spot insane- didn't even faze me.
Upon arrival, we were met with rows and rows of brightly colored goods. At first glance, one might accuse the scene of chaos, with the way it’s hard to discern one seller’s space from the other, the way the narrow pathways in between are so crowded and at times nonexistent, the shouting and whistling to get customer attention, oh and the way almost nothing has price tags and is left up to bargaining and hassling. Bargaining, no matter what anyone says or how the dictionary defines it, a skill that must be crafted and used especially in spaces like these.
Although I moved to the U.S in 2006 and have had a few trips back to Kenya since then, I can distinctly recall watching my mom bargain for what always seems like hours with sellers at the market. When I was younger I didn’t understand it, “why not just pay this sweet lady what she asks for which is already way less than what we would get anywhere else and be on our way.”
The thing is, sellers price items differently for tourists and locals as many tourists are not familiar with the concept of bargaining. So, I’ve always had to keep quiet so that no one picks up on my American accent.
While frustrating, this allowed me to step back and take a look, really getting to pick up on the little nuances and banter that provoke such a trading style. This particular time I was at the market, it struck me how alien this process would seem in America. The local customers would talk to sellers they had just met like they were family.
I would hear things like, “ Aunti, aki please, I won’t have bus fare to go home if you ask for that much” or, “ Come on now, how can you treat your sister like this?” This lingo would go back and forth with the seller shouting at the customer walking away saying “ Wait! Sister come I have something just for you!”
These showcases are almost comical but I would have to say that the marketplace features a type of organized chaos, if there is such a thing. The community is used to it and there is a sort of harmony between the competing sellers, cluelessly blissful tourists, and ever so stubborn locals.
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