Bizarre Bazaar

 “Spice Girls!” “Princess!” “Beautiful” “Charlie’s Angels!”

I could get used to shopping in Istanbul. Everywhere I walked I was approached by people calling me sweet names, commenting on my “exotic beauty,” and asking to “help spend my money.” My favorite line I got was, “I like that color on you. But I like you even more! And I’d like to see you buy me rug even more!” I remember feeling a similar way, though perhaps a bit more overwhelmed in China going through the markets. Everyone seems so pushy, and eager to sell me something, I wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

My default setting as I walked through the Grand Bazaar was to look straight ahead and ignore if I didn’t want to be approached, but it was hard because everyone was so nice- and the things they were selling were beautiful! Glass lanterns, artistic tiles, bags on bags on bags, and so much tea and spices! So much to choose from, but I had a strict budget I was trying to adhere to. So I came home with tea. Everywhere I went people were drinking tea. Apple tea was the drink of choice, so of course I picked up some for myself (and friends). I got so caught up with both the instant and lose leaf teas, I gave into the shopkeepers and bought kiwi, watermelon, chamomile, green, and my personal favorite, the mystery “love tea.” Not sure what it is supposed to do, but it seemed like the safe choice compared to the Turkish Viagra tea the shopkeeper was trying to sell me.

Wandering around the Grand Bazaar (the largest covered market in the world) could take days as it covers almost a mile total and as you get deeper into the market it gets increasingly more narrow and cluttered. The most bizarre encounter I had in the Bazaar was when a man approached me about buying perfume. I was tempted, because it was Chanel, but in all honesty, I’m a bit skeptical of the knock off brands. The man followed me for a good long while, continuously asking me to smell it. I wasn’t worried it wouldn’t smell the same. If it’s a knock off, I’m sure it smells identical, but I was more worried it would give me some weird rash from being cheaply made. Still, the man was relentless. He lowered the price from 50 lire to 5 lire (again, a tip off that I should avoid it.) He even blatantly told me he was on the Black Market and could get me any scent I wanted. 15 minutes later after incessant selling, he finally got the point and gave up to find another willing buyer.

What surprised me the most about the Bazaar was the lack of diversity. I could walk one block and 4 shops would sell identical things. I imagine they were competing on price mostly, but I couldn’t help but wonder if some of the skills in the Commerce School would even help me if I were to try to set up a business in the same environment. It certainly would be difficult to compete on price and to work within such a small space with hundreds of skeptical tourists passing by each day.