souks

Habiba Gallery in Luxor: Fair Trade Handicrafts

This charming shop in the Luxor souk sells gorgeous items made by local women’s collectives.

If you’re staying in Luxor, be sure to stop into Habiba Gallery to pick up some local handicrafts — and say hi to Linda, who owns the shop.

If you’re staying in Luxor, be sure to stop into Habiba Gallery to pick up some local handicrafts — and say hi to Linda, who owns the shop.

Wally and I have never met a souk we didn’t like. As our time in Luxor neared its end, we made arrangements with the concierge at our amazing hotel, Al Moudira, to take us across the Nile to shop for souvenirs.

We arrived about 20 minutes later, outside the atmospheric pavilion that serves as the tourist market of Luxor. You’ll know you’re there when you see the massive louvered wooden pergola flanked by a pair of smaller pergolas and the name El-Souk emblazoned above the entrance. For a moment I felt like we were stepping into the city’s past as horse-drawn carriages trotted by while I was taking a photo. 

The shelves of Habiba are lovingly stocked with curated goods that represent the vast array of Egypt’s cultural richness and craft heritage.

Local producers, many of them women, are supported through the principles of fair trade, providing a path to economic self-sufficiency. 
Beneath the latticework archway lies the entrance to the Luxor souk — just be careful of the horse and carriages.

Beneath the latticework archway lies the entrance to the Luxor souk — just be careful of the horse and carriages.

Inside the pedestrian-friendly bazaar are merchants selling spices and shops selling scarves, djellabas, trinkets, alabaster, statuettes and more. It wasn’t exactly bustling — we were there on a Sunday, and as Luxor has a large Coptic Christian population, many stalls were closed — but that was fine by me. 

After haggling at a few stalls in the market, our eyes lit up when we spotted Habiba Gallery, located on Andrawes Pasha, a side street running off the main souk. Wally and I have always had a passion for handicrafts, and the shop came highly recommended by Zeina Aboukheir, the “boss lady” proprietor of Al Moudira. 

A playful textile depicting village life, including a watermelon vendor and colorful birds in a cage

A playful textile depicting village life, including a watermelon vendor and colorful birds in a cage

UnCommon Threads: Every item Has A Story

As we excitedly began to collect items we wanted to buy, Linda Wheeler, an Australian expat and the owner of Habiba Gallery, began sharing the stories behind the pieces. One of the first of many to catch our eye were a group of earthenware pottery. It was difficult to choose between the unique handmade pieces, but ultimately we settled upon a couple of plates, and a serving vessel in the shape of a cow. 

Duke and Wally couldn’t resist this dish shaped like a cow — at least they think it’s shaped like a cow.

Duke and Wally couldn’t resist this dish shaped like a cow — at least they think it’s shaped like a cow.

Linda explained to us that the handmade pottery came from Tunis, a small village located in the Fayoum Oasis. The pieces were made by the former students of Swiss-born ceramicist Evelyne Porret. In 1989, Evelyne and her husband, Michel, established a pottery school to mentor and nurture the talents of the children of Tunis. Like Linda, Evelyne and Michel laid the foundation for locals to embrace an entrepreneurial spirit, and many of their students now run small businesses of their own.

Fun natural patterns adorn the plates we bought. The prices at Habiba are fair — no haggling necessary!

Fun natural patterns adorn the plates we bought. The prices at Habiba are fair — no haggling necessary!

The next item was a supersized, Egyptian cotton hammam towel or blanket from Naquadah, a predominantly Coptic village located on the West Bank of the Nile River just south of Luxor. The fine textiles are woven by the local women, who have preserved the traditional craft of manual looming — practiced there since pharaonic times. 

Linda told us how her conversations with the producer of these textiles eventually led to the subtle variation in style we saw before us. We chose one with a simple deep blue striped pattern and hand-knotted fringe. 

This was quickly followed by a brightly colored embroidered textile with a whimsical scene depicting village life and a tote bag with a block-printed fly pattern. No one can deny a fly’s persistence, and the Ancient Egyptians viewed this trait as a positive attribute. Pharaohs were known to have presented military personnel with a golden fly amulet to acknowledge an individual’s success and tenacity. We now better understood the impressive necklace with three flies on it that we had seen at the Luxor Museum.

Wally regaled Linda with a story about how I was unable to exercise discipline when it came to negotiating — in fairness, I had caved rather easily at the shop we visited beforehand, but I was not going to leave Egypt without a few rather authentic-looking objects. Linda diplomatically replied, “Well, if you love them, then it was worth it. And if you think you’re getting a good deal, then that’s OK.”

The shelves of the shop are lovingly stocked with curated goods that represent the vast array of Egypt’s cultural richness and craft heritage. Local producers, many of them women, are supported through the principles of fair trade, providing a path to economic self-sufficiency. 

Whimsical hand-painted wooden spindle dolls reminded Duke of Japanese kokeshi.

Whimsical hand-painted wooden spindle dolls reminded Duke of Japanese kokeshi.

One of the refreshing things about Habiba is that everything is clearly marked, so there’s no need to ask for the price or haggle. Linda was never pushy and allowed us to peruse the shop at our own pace. After about 20 minutes, we had a large stack piled on the counter — quite a few things for ourselves as well as presents for family and friends.

Linda, an Aussie expat, started Habiba with a sewing machine and a dream. The shop now showcases gorgeous handicrafts made by women’s collectives in Egypt.

Linda, an Aussie expat, started Habiba with a sewing machine and a dream. The shop now showcases gorgeous handicrafts made by women’s collectives in Egypt.

The Story of Habiba and Its Goal of Female Empowerment

It all started when Linda brought her trusty sewing machine with her to Luxor. 

“The idea was to impart my simple skills and love of sewing onto the ladies in Karnak,” Linda says. “Some were widowed, divorced or illiterate, and I hoped to encourage them to make their own clothing. But this was a daunting task, so I reverted to beadwork, a traditional technique familiar to the women, and discovered they were happy to apply their skills to smaller items such as accessories.”

Wanting to find a way to improve these marginalized women’s livelihoods and provide them with a sustainable source of income, Linda decided to open a shop to sell their products. She chose Habiba, the Arabic word for “beloved,” and, with the help of Abd el Shafy, who assisted with the maze of bureaucracy, her dream came true. 

Habiba is filled with beautiful handicrafts like these wooden boxes with geometric mother of pearl marquetry.

Habiba is filled with beautiful handicrafts like these wooden boxes with geometric mother of pearl marquetry.

At first, the shop didn’t offer a large range of items. “I borrowed a black jalabiya and headscarf and set out with my friend Sahar to find additional handicrafts,” Linda says. “Being a traveller, the thought excited me, and what better reason to see the country and meet the local community? I’ve been to the Siwa Oasis, Sinai Peninsula, Western Desert, Aswan, Fayoum Oasis and El-Mahalla.”

She also partnered with Fair Trade Egypt. “I would travel to the source to see how the product was made and who was involved,” Linda explains. “Meaningful relationships were formed, and over time we’ve developed new ideas with them.”

Technology has improved communication and social customs have relaxed, so Linda no longer needs to modestly cover herself in native garb when she travels around Egypt. 

Linda’s favourite site in Luxor is Karnak Temple. “I will walk through to the offering room, past those huge columns, and then on to the sanctuary of Sekhmet at the Temple of Ptah. It’s my place for grounding,” she says. So it’s fitting that she has helped to establish a workshop space in Karnak named Hands of Habiba, where the women are learning to become independent.

“For me, being a shop owner isn’t entirely about the money,” Linda says. “It’s about sharing the comments of our happy customers with the artisans. My life here has been about the women and the love and support that we give to each other. Living in Egypt is a simple life: buying local, living local and supporting local. The people make the experience — so friendly and always willing to give you their time.”

Her time in Luxor amongst the locals just might have influenced her, as we found Linda to be a delight. If you’re in this part of Egypt, be sure to stop into Habiba and purchase something (or some things) to take back with you, knowing that you’re helping empower Egyptian women. –Duke

My life here has been about the women and the love and support that we give to each other.

Living in Egypt is a simple life: buying local, living local and supporting local. The people make the experience — so friendly and always willing to give you their time.
— Linda Wheeler, owner, Habiba Gallery


 

Habiba Gallery
opposite the exit gate to Luxor Temple
Andrawes Pasha Street
Luxor, Egypt

Shopping in Egypt

Whether you’re hitting the Khan el-Khalili or the Luxor souk, here’s what to expect — and how to get the best bargains.

A lot of the handicrafts in Egypt are cheap-looking — probably cuz they were made in China

A lot of the handicrafts in Egypt are cheap-looking — probably cuz they were made in China

Zeina had warned us — but we didn’t heed her advice. She owned the hotel we stayed at in Luxor, and would make the rounds at dinner, stopping by the tables to chat.

We asked her about good shopping in Luxor, and she said if we wanted handicrafts we should head to the souk.

We weren’t 50 feet inside the Luxor airport before we were detained.

She pleaded with us to resist buying anything that even remotely resembled an antique, launching into a tale about how the model Kate Moss and someone from Christian Dior had stayed at her hotel last week, and even though they had a private plane, they were delayed two days because something they had purchased at a shop below the Winter Palace hotel looked like it might be a relic.

Cotton candy becomes an artistic medium at Khan el-Khalili in Cairo

Cotton candy becomes an artistic medium at Khan el-Khalili in Cairo

Aside from the odd street vendor, this is the only food you’ll find at Khan el-Khalili. There aren’t any cafés — just coffeeshops, where the most you can ingest is shisha (hookah) smoke

Aside from the odd street vendor, this is the only food you’ll find at Khan el-Khalili. There aren’t any cafés — just coffeeshops, where the most you can ingest is shisha (hookah) smoke

The next night, it was someone else who bought something at the same shop, who also had a private plane, but this poor gentleman had been sleeping at the police station for three nights while an expert took their sweet time checking the authenticity of the item.

Afterward, Duke and I smiled at each other. Zeina seemed to be a storyteller. And I’m OK with that. I’ve never let the truth get in the way of a good story. And I figured there was an underlying morale to her tales, a warning we shouldn’t ignore.

The Luxor Souk has one main drag — and some good finds

The Luxor Souk has one main drag — and some good finds

I nodded agreeably. I knew he was lying and he knew I knew; we were playing the time-honored game of mercantile duplicity, in which both parties profess the most noble sentiments while each plans to cheat the other as thoroughly as possible.
— Elizabeth Peters, “The Mummy Case”

The Luxor Souk

We arrived at the souk relatively early, around 10:30 a.m. Because it was a Sunday (Easter, to boot), all of the Coptic Christian stalls were closed. Apparently there are a lot of Coptics in Luxor.

We had just entered the bazaar when I spied a shop I knew would appeal to me and Duke.

And sure enough, once we were inside, we started putting items aside: a stone Anubis head as well as a faded blue baboon statue head, a worn-looking blue ushabti servant figurine and other items you could imagine had just been dug out of the desert after being hidden away for centuries.

In other words, we were doing exactly what Zeina had told us not to do. But we couldn’t help ourselves; old-looking shit is our passion.

In less than 10 minutes, Duke and I had piled a dozen pieces onto the table.

A good portion of stalls are shut on Sunday at the Luxor Souk, since the Coptic Christians are at church

A good portion of stalls are shut on Sunday at the Luxor Souk, since the Coptic Christians are at church

It was tough to gauge how much all of these should cost, but we had heard people calling out very low prices at the bazaars you have to walk through before leaving every temple you visit. (Exit through the gift shop.)

So when the vendor said, “$360,” I acted sad and a little disgusted and muttered, “That’s way too high. This is our first shop of the day. We’ll keep going and come back.”

“OK, OK,” the shopkeeper said, laying a hand on my shoulder to prevent me from leaving. “What’s your price?” I was aiming for $50, while Duke quietly said he’d be good with $75.

So I typed 45 on the calculator, to give myself the slightest bit of wiggle room, and the man countered with $150.

“Let’s go,” I told Duke. My famous walk-away ploy.

Again, I was stopped by a hand on the shoulder. “What’s your lowest price?”

“$50,” I said.

“You are tough,” the man said to me. Then, like a predator sizing up the weakest prey, he turned to Duke in a flash. “What’s your final offer?”

And I stood there in a daze as Duke said, “$150.”

“What happened to $75?!” I exclaimed.

But it was too late. Once you agree to a price it’s poor form to then back off.

I shook my head in dismay. But Duke hadn’t done any real shopping the entire trip, and I think he was suffering withdrawal.


The bazaars are a bit of a maze and can get quite claustrophobic

The bazaars are a bit of a maze and can get quite claustrophobic


Motorbikes whizz through the souk — as it got dark, one almost ran right into Duke!

Motorbikes whizz through the souk — as it got dark, one almost ran right into Duke!

How to Get Detained at the Airport

I told the shopkeeper about my fear that we’ll be detained at customs. He laughed it off but said he’d give us documentation. So before we left I reminded him of this, and he scribbled some Arabic on the back of his business card. He told us he had written that we had bought 13 items that were reproductions. We put that into our bag, along with the receipt.

And sure enough, we weren’t 50 feet inside the Luxor airport before we were detained. We had put our bags through security, and the guard said, “Statues?” and called us off to the side.

We spent the next 30 minutes (which felt like an eternity) uncomfortably watching the man slice into the carefully wrapped items, opening them for a woman in a headscarf who scratched at them with a paperclip and held a lighter to them. She always lit them near the top, but I didn’t feel it was my place to suggest she try the back or base instead.

Every time she burned a section, she’d smell it and, without fail, would rear her head back, her nose scrunched up, obviously having smelled something unpleasant — namely, the synthetic materials used in the (all-too-convincing) replicas. But every time she’d grimace at the smell, a wave of relief washed over me.

In the end, she had taken notes on our items, copied down my passport number, then set us free to pack up the wreckage and go on our merry way.

A vendor sips Turkish coffee at Kahn el-Khalili souk in Cairo

A vendor sips Turkish coffee at Kahn el-Khalili souk in Cairo

How Not to Bargain

I was upset with Duke for having caved under the pressure — especially since it was the second time it had happened on the trip.

Despite our better judgement, we had decided to go to an alabaster shop suggested by our guide. In Egypt they’ll suggest alabaster, papyrus and perfume “factories.” At these shops, they’ll show you the creation process (which is actually quite fun), all the while insisting there’s no pressure to buy.

Of course that’s not true. After the demonstration, you’ll be ushered inside and served up a drink (I went for Turkish coffee), a salesperson hovering nearby.

We had decided to get some small flint canopic jars, the four containers in which Ancient Egyptians would place certain organs during the mummification process. I had played hardball, insisting on a low price; the salesman got frustrated, and pounced on Duke like a cobra, waving me away.

The man had started at the absurd price of $65 apiece, and Duke caved at $125 for all four.

As a rule, it’s best to avoid these types of tourist traps, and a good guide won’t pressure you to go to them. (They get a commission or some small payment for luring in unsuspecting victims.)

But you will hear the depressing refrain, “Everything in the souk is made in China,” so perhaps those type of stores are one of your only guarantees of quality materials and handcraftsmanship.

The charming Linda at her Luxor shop, Habiba Gallery

The charming Linda at her Luxor shop, Habiba Gallery

Habiba: The Best Shop in the Souk

If you’re in Luxor and want locally made handicrafts, you have to stop into Habiba Gallery, a darling shop Zeina had recommended, just off of the main street of the souk, toward the Nile and the ruins of Luxor Temple. It’s run by a friendly Aussie named Linda, who has lived in Egypt for 20 years. Her mission is commendable: She only sells items that are indigenous to regions where they’re made. Some whimsical plates with gorgeous trees and serving dishes with a goat’s head and tail were part of a project for children to try their hand at pottery after school. Now two of those kids have grown up and started a business, which is now one of Linda’s suppliers.

The selection at Habiba is amazing — we just kept adding more and more to our pile, including a handwoven hammam towel, scented soaps, a veiled doll with silver bangles, a framed piece of jewelry and a cloth with a local village scene woven onto it.

The best part is that the prices are fixed and totally fair. Take a break from haggling and stop in for a chat with the charming Linda. You’ll come away with some great finds — whether you give them as gifts or keep them for yourself. –Wally

Beware This Shop in the Fes Medina

The store itself is full of interesting items — all ridiculously overpriced

When shopping in Fez, there’s one store you absolutely should avoid.

 

Feeling euphoric from our experience at Fès Bleu Art, we passed through an alleyway and entered a shop with an ornate stucco ceiling decorated with stalactites resembling the honeycomb of a beehive.

The shopkeeper invited us in saying, “No obligation to buy — just look around.” Wally began taking pictures and I surveyed the merchandise. The shop really is fun to explore; it’s just that the owner makes the experience awful.

He intimated that a powerful mafia ran the souk, stealing a portion of his profits.

When I paused to look at a stoneware inkwell decorated with Arabic calligraphy, the shopkeeper asked where I was from. I told him we were visiting from Chicago and really just looking.

He used a tactless ploy, telling me that he was Jewish and because of this he would offer us a fair price. He added that because we were his first customers we were obligated to purchase something.

“You have to buy something or you will have bad luck and I will have bad luck,” he told us. Charming.

He also intimated that a powerful mafia ran the souk, stealing a portion of his profits. There was nothing subtle or nuanced about his demeanor.

The shopkeeper does everything he can to finagle a sale, including pleading and, ultimately, cursing

I hadn’t expected to hear a shopkeeper speak this way, regardless of his personal opinion. I offhandedly asked how much he wanted for the inkwell, and he replied 3,500 dirham. I had also looked at a turquoise glazed stoneware basin oil lamp, which he quoted at 7,500 dirham. The basin had clearly broken off from its slender base and been reattached. He told us everything in his shop were artifacts. Honestly, I couldn't identify a valuable antique from an item that looks old, but clearly felt that this guy was duplicitous and trying to pull a fast one on me. I did sort of want the inkwell, but not for the equivalent of $350, so I put the objects down and told Wally we were leaving.

As we made our way towards the door the shop owner suddenly turned nasty, cursing us and muttering profanities under his breath.

We recommend that you do comparison shopping, as a neighboring shop may very well have the same item. We found one offering an array of beaded terracotta heads from Nigeria. We had purchased one in Marrakech three years prior for 250 dirham, and the shopkeeper in Fès started at 700. He also had some excellent bronzes and more than a few basin oil lamps, artifacts or otherwise — none of which were previously broken and all of which were a fraction of the price at the other store.

After exploring the cavernous shop (and escaping the clutches of the evil shopkeeper), flee out this door and back into the meandering medina

If you spot this short, dark-haired man in his pink plastic chair up the street from Place Seffarine, be on your guard. The prices are 10 times as high as they should be, and you just might face a curse from the tactless shopkeep. –Duke

The Best Shop for Blue Pottery in the Entire Fez Medina

Fès is known for its delightful blue and white pottery

If you’re shopping in Fès, just off of Place Seffarine is a small shop with a friendly owner and great deals.

 

Each morning our breakfast at Dar Bensouda, our riad in the depths of the Fès, Morocco medina, was served in the most charming cobalt blue and white hand-painted pottery. Having read that Fassi craftsmen are known for their ceramic artistry, we ventured out to see what we could find.

RELATED: 8 Tips to Get the Best Deals in a Souk

Miraculously, by day three, we managed to make our way through the medina’s maze of alleyways and back to Place Seffarine, the metalworkers’ square. It was a Friday, so it was relatively quiet. Local guides will advise against shopping the souks on Fridays, the Islamic holy day, telling you that shops are closed in observance. However, we have found that this isn’t completely accurate. Although some shops may be closed, the souks are generally less chaotic and easier to navigate.

The shop was a visual feast for the senses. Every square inch of the floors and walls was covered with bowls, platters, soap dishes and pitchers.

A shop to the side of the square had some interesting and old-looking metalwork pieces on display. One in particular, a palm-sized tarnished brass astrolabe caught my eye. These scientific tools were used to track the position of the sun and stars to astronomically determine the five specific times of prayer and as an aid in finding the Qibla, the sacred direction of Mecca. I should have downplayed the fact that I was interested in it, as Wally’s ability to barter like a Berber seemed to have little to no effect on the shopkeeper.

 

Fès Bleu Art is overflowing with handcrafted pottery made by local artisans

True Blue

We moved on, following one of the offshoot alleyways. Located just off Place Seffarine, a pair of whimsical outstretched hands of Fatima drew us into Fès Bleu Art, a shop filled with hand-painted Fassi pottery.

The shop was a visual feast for the senses. Small and narrow, the shelves were full of petite, richly varied tagines and small lidded vessels like the ones we had seen at our riad. Every square inch of the floors and walls was covered with bowls, platters, soap dishes and pitchers.

The charming shop owner, Zouhir, offers reasonable deals — perhaps the best in the medina

The affable shop owner, Zouhir, who told us he was a descendant of the Idrisid dynasty, struck up a friendly conversation with us. Asking where we were from, he spoke to us in earnest, explaining how he offers a fair price on his pottery and how to identify the authenticity of a piece: Locally produced stoneware have the word Fas (the Arabic spelling of Fès) hand-painted on the bottom.

We had heard Zouhir speaking with another couple when we entered his shop, and during his exchange he had mentioned pricing, which we were pleased to realize is quite affordable.

Fassi pottery is glazed in white and embellished with cobalt oxide, which produces a vibrant shade of blue during kiln firing. Designs typically feature motifs and patterns including flowers, zigzags, chevrons, dots, triangles and crosshatching, all of which are used to convey messages.

For example, diamond or star-shaped lozenge motifs represent an eye that deflects evil, while a shape with five points or branches conjures the protection of the hamsa, or hand of Fatima.

We began to pick out pieces and put them to the side. What makes these so exceptional in my opinion is that matched sets do not exist, as they are entirely handmade. I think we purchased almost every hand-painted hamsa tile Zouhir had. Wally decided to give them out as gifts to his coworkers.

Zouhir’s prices, as we mentioned, are quite fair. So don’t expect him to come down substantially in price. And don’t worry — you’ll still be getting perhaps the best deal in the entire medina.

On our last day in Fès, we returned to the shop to purchase even more pottery — many of which I made sure to carry on, for fear of returning home with broken shards. –Duke

8 Tips to Get the Best Deals at a Moroccan Souk

The souk in Marrakesh, Morocco is just off of the large square in the media, Jemaa el-Fnaa.

The souk in Marrakesh, Morocco is just off of the large square in the media, Jemaa el-Fnaa.

Bargaining and haggling are a time-honored tradition when shopping at markets. Just make sure you don’t get taken advantage of.

 

Duke and I are unabashed consumers. When we’re on vacation, we’ll hit the markets once or even twice a day if possible. So let’s just say we’ve had plenty of practice bargaining for the best price. I also play hardball (our guide on our trip to the Sahara, Barack, saw me in action and was so impressed, he dubbed me an honorary Berber).

Haggling for everything you buy (food aside) can be exhausting. But it’s part of the culture in Morocco, and vendors look forward to a lively contest of wills. Follow these steps, and chances are you’ll get a good deal when shopping the souks.

Our guide saw me in action and was so impressed, he dubbed me an honorary Berber.

 

1. Scope out the sitch. 

Start out with a reconnaissance mission. When you see something you’re interested in, ask how much it is, as casually as possible. Then make a mental note and move on. Quickly. 

You’ll often see similar items at other stalls, so it’s good to have perspective, to see if you’re getting ripped off.

That being said, if you see something you really want, snag it. You never know if you’ll find it again. Souks are labyrinthine, and there’s no guarantee you can retrace your steps another day. 

 

2. Speak French if you know it. 

Most vendors speak French as well as an impressive amount of English and phrases from Spanish and other languages. I’m not sure that all vendors assume Americans are rich and charge more — but it sure seemed that way. I definitely scored better deals when they couldn’t quite pin down my nationality. 

And don’t worry about being fluent in French. Remember, it’s their second language, too, so you can meet in the middle, skill-wise.

 

3. Be aggressive if need be. 

It’s not uncommon to be inside a narrow stall, looking around and then, when you turn to leave, find the merchant blocking your path. He might have something he’s shoving in your face, trying to excite your interest.

I found that there were times when I literally had to grab a vendor's shoulder and push him out of the way in order to leave.

Note that we traveled with our friend Vanessa, who said the men didn’t accost her in this way. So it might (hopefully) just be a “guy thing.”

 

4. Shop on Friday — despite what you’ve been told. 

Everyone told us the souk would be closed on Friday, that everyone’s at the mosque. Well, Duke and I couldn’t resist just seeing if anyone was open — and sure enough, in the Marrakech souk, we found that about a quarter of the stalls weren't closed. Instead of the usual hustle and bustle, the passageways were relatively quiet, and we scored some great deals, as shopkeeps knew business would be slow.

 

5. Use this formula. 

OK, let’s get down to the nitty gritty. How much should you pay? Here’s what I do: Think about what you’d pay at a store back home. Then divide that in half. You won’t be ripping anyone off, and you’ll be getting a great deal — which you deserve by eliminating the middleman. 

On our last day in Marrakech, we found a fertility doll from Cameroon, covered in beads and horn and metal bangles, that we simply had to have. It wouldn’t surprise me to a see a museum-quality handicraft from Africa like this for $70 back in the States. (Indeed, a Google search revealed prices upwards of $100.) So I divided $70 in two, and decided I’d like to end up at $35. 

 

6. Ignore their opening bid. 

In most places I’ve been, the shopkeeps start with a reasonable offer and you can end up with a decent price by meeting in the middle. Not so in Morocco. They’ll try to get as much out of you as possible. So don’t even listen to the first number they throw out there.

With the fertility doll, the young man started at $200. By this point, I knew better than to even pay attention. I countered with $20. Yes, that seems ridiculous, right? But if they’re being ridiculous, you can be ridiculous right back.

 

7. Give yourself some wiggle room. 

After you’ve figured out what you want to pay, go a bit lower. After all, you need to come up a bit, act as if you’re conceding, unable to escape the vendor’s wiliness. He wants to feel as if he’s won on some level. 

Our fertility doll vendor offered the equivalent of $45 and wouldn’t budge. 

 

8. Walk away. 

This is an especially successful tactic in Morocco. (Not so much in India, btw, where we said goodbye to many an item.) Even though we were just above what I wanted to pay for the doll, I shook my head and dragged a reluctant Duke away. 

“We could pay $45!” he pleaded. 

But I can be merciless. “We’ll go halfway down the block,” I told him. “And if he doesn’t chase after us, we’ll go back and get it for $45.”

We had gotten only 20 feet away before the young man chased after us, grabbing my arm. 

“What’s your final offer?”

I pretended to think about it. “We really don’t need it… $35 is my final offer.”

“OK. OK,” he caved. “You’re getting great deal.”

Yes. Yes, I was. –Wally