Today our group got back to the homebase early, and took a van to Arusha, Tanzania's third-largest city, about an hour away from Moshi. I was excited to see the hustle and bustle of a large African city, but it turns out we didn't see a whole lot of hustle, or bustle. Or much of the city. What was originally planned as a day trip ended up being crammed into two-and-a-half hours. Enough time for a trip to Shop-Rite (the grocery store where all the mzungus in northern Tanzania shop) and the Maasai Market.
Which is an entirely different planet. Endless alleyways that aren't even wide enough for two people to pass through shoulder-to-shoulder. Entering (more like getting sucked in by your wallet) one such alleyway, you are bombarded instantaneously by the glorious-yet-terrifying sights and sounds of local commerce: vendors flashing colorful shiny things in your face, vendors yelling "Karibu! Karibu! Come in, sister! Looking is for free!" They know you have money to burn, and they are ready to overcharge you if they can get away with it. And they do, often.
Thus, we enter into the intricate, complicated song-and-dance called bartering for a better deal. First rule of thumb: avoid making comments about how beautiful the object in question is, at least right off. I made this mistake because my parents taught me to be polite and offer compliments when I mean them. Do it, and the price will automatically increase by 10,000 shillings.
Second rule of thumb: have in mind the maximum price you're willing to pay for an object before asking, "How much?" In fact, if at all possible, avoid that question. Instead, try: "I'll give you... (insert a price LOWER than your price limit here)." The surest way to ensure the price you want is to simply walk out of the stall.
Okay, it really is understandable that they ask for a lot from mzungus--we DO have the means to pay whatever price they ask, in the context of Tanzania's economy and value of its currency. I get that. But I'm a little tired of having "Mzungu" branded on my forehead, even though my skin is white. I'm a volunteer, and back at home I'm a graduate student without a job who can barely afford to buy groceries, and I'm NOT going to buy the contents of your entire stall. Sorry. I just can't do it.
All in all, a bit anticlimactic. I think, as is the case with anywhere you travel, that in order to tap into the pulse of a place you need to be really in it for awhile. At least, longer than two-and-a-half hours.
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