Time of Gifting

by Taki Drake

  The group leader’s peripheral vision told her when the other six members of her group and their two escorts moved closer to observe her negotiating session. She did not need any type of peripheral sight to realize how close attention was being paid to what was happening by the other shopkeepers.

  Part of Mary’s consciousness was amused at the children and youth that were dispatched from close by shops, running off into the distance, because she knew with a certainty that surprised her that a group of American women who had come to spend money was valuable to the entire market. However, that did not mean that she took her attention off the man who had become her opponent in both an enjoyable and valuable game.

  The shopkeeper made his first move when he came out of his shop's rear area with two cups of hot tea. The glass containers set into metal holders were typical for the Middle East. The metal radiated heat, and how one grasped it was part of a protocol that Mary’s husband David had drilled into her on their other travels. However, in a responsible role as the group leader, Mary knew it was more than her budget that would be hit by any misstep on her part.

  Therefore, when she saw only two cups on the tray, Mary glanced at the tray before deliberately raising her eyes to look at the shopkeeper’s face, and then moved pointedly to look at Abdul. Keeping her hands folded in front of her, the woman made a nonverbal and cultural statement that Abdul was an essential part of the negotiating team. It also served notice that she would not tolerate any disregard from the shopkeeper.

  His eyes suddenly glinting in amusement, the shopkeeper bowed his head in acknowledgment and placed the tray on the counter to Mary’s right. Disappearing into the back, the man soon reappeared with a third glass cup. He put it on the tray before once again extending it to Mary.

  This time, the woman accepted a glass with a smile, which broadened when the shopkeeper immediately offered the tray to Abdul, who took his with a murmured phrase of thanks. Taking the third glass, the shopkeeper made a show of sipping his, at which point both Mary and Abdul drank from theirs. The bargaining session was on.

  What followed from that point was an engaging battle of wills, with the shopkeeper bemoaning his poverty and the woman’s heartlessness. Mary promptly countered with statements that his poverty was his own fault and demanding why she should act like his mother rather than a customer.

  When the man pled for the sake of his elderly mother whom he was supporting, Mary uttered condemning remarks, saying that the woman would be more deserving of consideration if she had taught her son the lessons he needed to successfully run his own business. The group leader was conscious of a flash of amusement as she heard the gasps and whispered comments from her audience but kept her focus on her opponent, knowing that she and the shopkeeper were approaching an end game.

  It had been more than an hour as Mary and the shopkeeper battled over the price she was willing to pay. The woman knew better than to appear in a hurry, realizing that her relaxed stand was part of her position’s power. Her insistence that she could always go somewhere else to purchase the goods he offered was a continued goad for the man to close the sale. Finally, unwilling to let the deal slip past his grasp and realizing that Mary was not going to be overcome by either exhaustion or his blandishments, the shopkeeper agreed on a price.

  Mary was aware that she could have pushed him to a lower price and knew that he was aware that she knew that in turn. Their relative positions showed respect, and Mary was aware that he would welcome her back anytime to experience the challenging thrill of negotiating with her.

  As she concluded their commercial transaction, the shopkeeper reached under his counter and pulled out a wrapped bundle. Bowing, the man offered it to her, saying, “So you remember the shop of Amar Ahmed, I am offering this trivial item. Something that I think you will find interesting and perhaps valuable enough to revisit me.” Mary knew that this was the shopkeeper’s way of telling her that his shop should be the one that she continued to honor with her business.

  Accepting the token with thanks, Mary, in turn, offered the man the first bow she had tendered in their long exchange, saying, “It has been an honor to match wits with you. I will remember both the quality of your goods and your skill at negotiating when I return. Until I see you again, may the Blessings of Allah be upon you.”

  The shopkeeper responded, “And on you, Honorable lady.”

  Ensuring that Mary remembered him, the shopkeeper turned to Abdul, saying clearly and respectfully, “My thanks to you also, Honorable translator. You have done both your lady and me a service on this day. Always be welcome in my shop.”

  After that triumph, all the rest of the group members had wanted Mary to do their negotiating for them, except for Geri. Looking over at Mary with excitement on her face, Geri waved a scribbled piece of paper at the younger one, saying excitedly, “That was just like a chess game! I see your positioning, the sacrifice of pawns, and the eventual capitulation. I am so excited, I am going to try it myself!” With that, the elderly woman marched off toward the shop she had been exploring, the young Jumal racing to catch up. Grinning in anticipation, Naomi followed.

  Patty had been the first to grab hold of Mary’s arm, practically dragging her toward the spice merchants that covered a good portion of one aisle of the market. The woman was so energized that the group leader would not have recognized her if she compared her first glimpse of the woman with today's vibrant aliveness.

  Patty said excitedly, “I am not sure what I can do in negotiations over the spices. I have no idea how much play they have and am clueless about any other bargaining strategies. I have not yet agreed to a price, but what he is asking will wipe out a good portion of my discretionary funds for the city. I do not want to limit my village buying funds, so I hope you can help drive the price down. If you cannot, I will understand it, but please, please see what you can do.”

  Mary was helpless to refuse her friend, so she walked over to see the spice shopkeeper warily back up away from her. His body language and positioning told Mary that he knew that he had severely misstepped, and her intuition told her he was not to be trusted.

  Trying to find some way of communicating that to the enthusiastic Patty, Mary was forestalled when Abdul leaned closer to her, murmuring, “Another spice merchant, Numatullah Ahmed, has sent a runner here stating that he will with pleasure negotiate with you for a fair price on the spices that the notable chef wishes. He invites us to view his wares and discuss a package deal, including international certification and handling from the Afghani end.”

  Staring at the shifty-looking shopkeeper, Mary murmured to Abdul, “I understand that all shopkeepers are not terribly trustworthy, but is this other one at all reasonable and reputable?”

  Abdul responded in a low-tone voice, saying, “He is quite notable, although he seldom chooses to deal with foreigners. He gets spices from all over the area, and his goods are highly prized by the local restaurants. He is also not a religious fanatic, and I believe you will enjoy the same sort of battle with him that you had in the last shop.”

  Mary smiled at their cheerful driver, saying, “Then tell the runner that we will be happy to follow him back as soon as I have extracted my friend from this location. Also, do you think we need to wait for the rest of our party, or can we move to the new shop without endangering anyone?”

  Abdul smiled, obviously pleased at her respect for him. He made some sort of obscure hand gesture to draw Jumal and Haji’s attention. When the two men trotted over to hear what he wanted to say, he spoke with them in a quick couple of sentences. When they turned and trotted back to their respective assignments, Abdul said, “Now they know where we are going and that it is simply a partial aisle away from here. They will rejoin us when the ladies that are their assignments have completed their negotiations or when they need to talk to us. Whichever comes first, of course.”

  Coming to a quick decision, Mary informed Patty loudly, “I think not. I know the spices you wish to purchase, and I thin
k that Nimatullah Ahmed will provide us with far better prices and higher quality goods. I do not even want to drink mint tea here, so let us go to where we can better satisfy your requirements.”

  Ignoring the current spice shopkeeper's pitiful wails and pleas, Mary swept Patty and her twin Pam up in a concentrated march that followed the patient runner toward the second spice merchant’s booth. Mary was aware of the ripple effect their passing had in the marketplace, with whispered comments racing from merchant to merchant and the focused attention to anything that the women’s eyes lighted on even for a moment.

  Arriving at their new destination, Mary was pleased to see the merchant standing to greet them with a tray that contained enough mint tea for each member of their party, including Jamaal and Abdul. Nodding her head to signify her appreciation, Mary leaned toward Patty long enough to say, “I understand what you were trying to buy from the other merchant. Just sit beside me, and if there is something that you desperately want, squeeze my leg under the table twice. If it is something you do not want, tap the top of my thigh with your fist, okay?”

  Patty nodded convulsively, and Mary’s sideways glance allowed her to recognize that both of the twins were a bit disoriented and freaked out. Jumal eased his way between the two, drawing their attention and whispering comfortingly to them.

  He must have calmed them down, Mary thought to herself, as she sat down. When Patty sat beside her and placed her hand flat on Mary’s thigh, the older woman took a deep breath and began to enjoy her negotiation.

  It was an entirely satisfying and enriching experience. Not only did Mary negotiate an extremely reasonable price for the spices from the merchant, but he and she derived much pleasure from the give-and-take of the bargaining. Mary knew that she would probably have bruises on either side of her thigh as Patty had repeatedly grabbed her leg with the chef’s strong fingers, proclaiming how much she wanted a particular spice.

  By the time everything was done, both the merchant and Mary were quite happy, and Patty was almost catatonic with pleasure. A side glance told Mary that Patty appeared lost in her own thoughts, and she knew that the chef was playing out how the spices could be used. That did not detract from the group leader’s interaction with Numatullah. At this point, she both respected and liked the man while still appreciating his reasons for not dealing with many people, especially tourists.

  However, his evident respect for her and the regard for her whole party made him someone with whom she would gladly deal with again. To that end, she had made certain agreements with him that were not necessarily going to be exercised but were available depending on how Patty and the rest of the group wanted to proceed.

  Once again, as they concluded their business and Mary paid the master merchant, the man gave a short formal bow and handed an ornate chest to Mary, saying, “A simple token of thanks to the Honorable lady who has enriched my existence and taught me that not all Americans are to be despised.”

  Smiling at the man without reservation, Mary made the gesture that followers of Islam made to bestow blessings on one another, saying, “My thanks to one who has restored my faith in the intelligent positioning of alliances, irrespective of culture.”

  Abdul drew them gently but firmly out of the spice merchant’s booth and back to where the rest of their party waited by the bus. As they walked, Patty and Pam crowded in next to Mary with the chef demanding in a low undertone, “Do you realize that you not only negotiated a price that was less than 5% of what I would have paid for a much smaller quantity of the spices and a worse selection, but you got him to agree to an ongoing purchase, including international shipping!”

  Mary smiled with the light of successful battle in her eyes and told her friend, “Of course, I do! That was part of the fun. Think about how much we are going to enjoy the rest of this trip!”

  Chapter 6 – Scenery for Miles

  The seven women had been packed and ready to board the bus when it pulled up in front of their hotel at 6 AM. Filled with nervous energy and feelings of excitement, Mary bounced from place to place, trying to check everything and anything that was being packed or organized. The tour company had arranged for the hotel to hold their excess belongings and luggage while the women were visiting the villages where they would see the textile and rug techniques that were the primary motivations for the trip.

  The tour bus was completely clear of the city by the time traffic began to increase, slipping past possible chokepoints with the skill of a matador avoiding the charge of a bull. The jumble of buildings slowly became sparser until the simpler dwellings of small villages became the primary sign of human settlement amidst the harsh, dramatic environment outside the vehicle’s windows.

  Initially, Mary thought that she would probably doze as the day continued, but that did not happen. She found herself too entranced by the scenery and the glimpses of the Afghani people going about their everyday lives. She was not the only one.

  The women had spread out on the bus so that everybody had their own window. The extra space meant they could stretch out, even lying across multiple seats if they chose to sleep. Mary had smiled to herself when she saw that they were even staggering their positions in an irregular zigzag pattern so that if something came up on the opposite side of the bus, each woman had an unobstructed view.

  The photographers in the group were entranced, voices rapid with excitement, and a liveliness to their words that Mary had never before heard from her friends. The woman was conscious of hearing the same note in her voice. That admission raised a strange burn in her throat and behind her eyes, which she avoided thinking about too much as if examining it would make it go away.

  Naomi was filling one memory card after another with pictures. As far as the group leader could tell, she had not stopped taking pictures the entire time. Periodically, Abdul would stop the bus or slow it down enough for the windows to be opened and the women to take pictures more easily without disembarking.

  Mary could see the dust raised by their escort a few hundred yards ahead of them. Haji and Jumal were out front, riding motorcycles. Abdul explained that anytime their tours left the main cities, the two men would be acting as an escort, a standard policy for the tour company. When Jean had inquired why they needed the guard, Abdul had smiled and shrugged his shoulders, saying, “Very few of our tours have only women participants. Normally, we would have one escort, but with seven unaccompanied ladies, the tour organizer felt that we should have two men as escorts. As you saw at the places we visited in the city, having a male with several women is more culturally accepted.”

  At the time, Mary had fully agreed with the idea, but she was still taken aback when they began to load up at the hotel, and she realized that both Jumal and Haji were heavily armed.

  Eyes wide, Mary was staring at the escorts in confusion when Jean slipped up beside her, obviously looking at their weapons too. The group’s resident weapons aficionado murmured softly, “Nice pistols! They are Smith and Wesson M&Ps, a great semi-automatic pistol. They have the advantages that it is easy to get ammunition for them, are easy to control, and have many options available. It looks like Jumal has the seventeen round magazines and the 5-inch barrel, while Haji went for stopping power with the.45 ACP. Nice! I wonder if they would let me shoot them?!”

  Just then, Jumal reached down and picked up a longer weapon, and Jean moaned. Startled at the almost erotic sound that her friend had made, Mary turned and examined Jean’s face. The ordinarily calm-looking woman was flushed, eyes alight and laser-focused on the gun. Almost to herself, the woman who had been a longtime member of the most prestigious gun club in the Boston area, murmured, “Oh my God! It is a Kbs wz.96! They have to let me try it out! We cannot get them in the US, and they are supposed to be sweet! They take the standard NATO cartridges and have a reputation for smooth, even fire.”

  Jean darted over to where the two men were checking their motorcycles and began an animated conversation without even looking at Mary before she took off.
At first startled, the two men soon were letting Jean examine their weapons while pointing out features to the excited woman.

  Mary had been very conscious of the armed men ahead of them, wondering how much danger they were actually in. Jean was too excited about the weapons to talk about why they were needed, and the group leader was not sure if she was overly concerned or she had a reason for her paranoia. Thinking to herself, I guess I will just have to wait and see, Mary focused on the scenery and not about whether somewhere ahead would be something that would potentially hurt them.

  As the day had progressed, the knowledge that their armed escort was not only necessary but comforting had seeped into Mary’s bones. Their very prominent presence ahead of the bus could be seen as a deterrent for troublemakers, but the group leader knew that it was more than that. The two young men scouting the road ahead of them had dedicated themselves to protecting seven foreign women so that they might enjoy the Afghani culture and breathtaking scenery.

  Her eyes stinging, Mary thought to herself, They are making us a priceless gift. I know that this is their job, but we all need to be aware of and grateful for their service. This is not trivial to them at all.

  Before Mary could retreat too deeply into her emotions, Abdul tapped on his headset, announcing, “As we come over the next rise, you will be able to see the first village that we are planning on visiting in this portion of your tour. We will be stopping here to give you time to examine the looms and techniques used for making different types of textiles and rugs.

  “I would ask all of you to please stay within sight of your escort. This is simply a cautionary behavior that I would like you to practice until it becomes second nature.”

  Geri asked, “Are we really in that much danger? The brochure made it plain that we were not going into a war zone.”

  Abdul smiled into the sizeable rearview mirror, saying, “This is definitely not a war zone. However, none of you speak more than a few words of Pashto, and most of the villagers do not speak English.”