Shopping Local-Like

April 7, 2008 - 2:34 PM by Stephanie

Want a savory slice of humble pie?

Go shopping with a local. You’ll quickly discover that even if your first applause-charged El Al touchdown at Ben Gurion was decades ago, you’re still Gringos, mis queridos amigos.

Yesterday I went shuk shopping in Tel Aviv with a born and raised Israeli friend. The kind of person that knows her way ’round a shuk like North American me can navigate a strip mall.

As we set out she initially stood back and observed as I “haggled” with a shop owner or two. She then clucked her tongue, gave me that commanding SILENCE!! roll of the eyes and stepped in.

I know you told her you charge 55 shekels per kilo but the guy two doors over is charging 50. Shouldn’t you really be asking 45 so you get some traffic in here? Maybe that’s why your store is so empty. Your prices are too high she smoothly interjected.

Oh so I see you’re from Bat Yam too the shop owner volleyed, inferring he had met his match. Yallah. Forty five he relented, handing me the goods.

I was impressed and continued to be so as I watched Sophie charm her way among vendors in Farsi, Moroccan and Arabic peppered Hebrew, getting perks all along the way. “Take a few extra – it’s on me”… “Try this. I promise you’ll be back to buy more.”

I-Am-So-Western it suddenly hit me. I would have offended half of them and been offended by the other half long ago. When I’m alone it’s a wonder these guys don’t see me coming and signal to the others: Gringos Incoming! Triple the prices! (which undoubtedly some do)

My perk was observing, taking mental notes and getting the informative bits about mystery spices, fruits and vegetables used in all sorts of Middle Eastern cuisines that I’ll probably never make or taste but I’m still grateful for the knowledge. That fragrant, dried up black fruit in the barrels outside? It’s used in an Iranian yellow soup.

My other perk was to glean extras from Sophie’s guidance. “Yallah let’s get out of here,” she commanded steering me away from a party favor shop.

“But I need wrapping paper and ribbon!” I protested.

But you don’t need to pay for it, she insisted.

And she was right. As she handed a young shopkeeper cash for the generous Passover gift basket she was purchasing, Sophie sweetly urged: “Throw some extra ribbon and a few sheets of wrapping paper into the bag will you? Thanks sweetheart”

And the shopkeeper did. No questions asked.

Over a dozen years and I-Am-Such-A-Gringos.

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