Being Hard in the Markets of Jerusalem

Today I was called hard. “You are hard, very hard.” It was in the context of shopping in the market. After I bargained a man down from $72 to $15, he was not happy with me, but he still completed the transaction... I have shopped in markets in many cultures and many countries. There are at least two skills you need. One is to judge how high above selling price the initial offering is, and the other is the culturally appropriate ways to get from starting price A to final price B. Today I finally had some time to develop a sense of Jerusalem markets. I only shopped a short while – I am no expert, and those who have been here longer might take issue with what I think I learned...

The hotel is in East Jerusalem, facing the Old City wall, and very much enmeshed in a community. The prices in many of the stores are posted, therefore more or less fixed, and it seems like those other stores bump up the price a bit for foreigners, but a little asking and the price easily comes down 10 – 15%. They are shop keepers making a living, and making a little bit extra off the white guy who doesn't speak their language or know their prices – I don't mind, seems somewhat fair. But things are very different in the Old City, in the shops selling to the hoards of tourists tumbling past.

I was out for a walk, seeing where I might end up, and when I was around stores, I did some window shopping (sans windows of course). Occasionally I would ask prices, but I wasn't really seeking to shop. As I went, a nice older gentleman invited me into his small shop filled with embroidered dresses. Simple, nice, somewhat exotic. “How big is your wife?” “Is she blonde?” “What color do you like?” He had me choose one before he would tell me how much they cost. Then he sprung it on me... 350 shekels.. In case you aren't up on your conversions, that is $100. I knew that was overpriced so I started out (the store is only 7 feet deep, I didn't have far to go). By the time I was at the threshold it was down to 100 shekels (that's 30% per step I took). While maintaining interaction, I also continued movement away from him. By the time I reached the edge of his area he called out “10 dollars!” A 90% reduction – I kept walking, that is not what I want to support.

garbage tractor in the market

I learned quickly that the prices here are often more than the doubling I was originally told. One shawl that I thought was nice dropped from 450 to 150 – but this time it took just staying in the store, being congenial, recognizing the quality, and knowing that Rhamla is a Palestinian town. The bargaining here is relationship based, respect based, but they will go for the financial kill if the opportunity is given by an unsuspecting tourist. I would say that this is a very hard market.

My reflection after going for the bargain kill (getting a man to sell for almost no profit) on the present for Tobiah is that I indeed was hard. In the Palestinian neighborhood shops I did not feel that they were hard. Foreign and challenging due to my lack of knowledge, but not hard. And I reciprocated and happily paid a few dollars more. But I was taken from this more generous mindset to being a “hard American” by the hard market which takes advantage of people.

But this is not how we are to live. Jesus shows us a better way. Love your enemy, pray for those who persecute you, give more than you are asked for....don't allow yourself to become hard just because you are surrounded by hardness. I have seen this in many Palestinians here. Many are given the short end of every deal by the Israelis. They have their homes taken and are not reimbursed. They are restricted, denied rights, encroached upon – and the list of grievances goes on and on – and some become hard. But on this trip I have met many who are seeking better, to work for peace. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God” Matt 5

Having more time, I discovered that this hotel has a terrace on top of it – I'm sitting there now. Watching people walk on the street below, looking across at the powerful stone wall of Jerusalem, and listen to the chatting of three Palestinian boys at the next table over sharing Coke, while their parents gather at a long table sharing nuts and good conversion.

Also today my dad and I visited the Garden Tomb, a more likely place for the crucifixion of Jesus. Turns out we can see the possible rock of Galgotha from our hotel window – who knew we were so close? It is likely that everyday I have looked out my hotel window at the buses in the station, I have been looking at where Jesus died – submitting to an unjust death in a hard world – back when it was a spent quarry 2000 years ago. Wow!

Tomorrow is my last day in the amazing place. Good Night.

Jesus killed in a place as unglamorous as a bus lot - fitting.