Next to the Flea Market

(Events from August 9, 2009)
--> No camera today...sorry! <--

After combing through several aisles in a flea market, a small group consisting of Joe, John, Muhammed, Molly, Cassie and myself walked into an expansive field resting besides a grassy incline. Atop the field lay a combination of short, sun-yellowed grass mixed in with beer bottle caps and broken shards of glass. Despite the obvious dangers, many people sat on the field—some with cigarettes in hand, with tattered pants and without shirts while others talked amongst themselves in small groups. In the distance, a throng of people crowded the hillside—this necessitated us to check it out…

Approaching the hillside, we noticed music drifting through the air. We thought: “Is it a live concert?” Ne—closer inspection revealed a stage with a rainbow-colored umbrella played host to a giant karaoke event. Surrounding the stage stood another large group of people, singing and clapping along with those on the hillside as the chords from the Beatles’ “I want hold your hand” vibrated the air in the area.

Besides the singing event stood a small pit surrounded by large cement blocks, three layers thick. The “tagging” form of graffiti colored them with hues of green, black, and brown. The centers from plums combined with broken glass littered the lower levels. Within the pit, a single metal basketball hoop stood atop a flat, black asphalt surface with the markings to denote half a court.

Some locals played hoops when we all arrived on the scene. Muhammed, John and Joe proceeded to challenge them in a game of 3v3—with John and Joe playing barefoot. Not having anything to do and not being a huge basketball fan, I sat down atop the cement blocks and wrote of the scenery in my journal. Also felt the contents of my laptop bag for my newest possessions: a new leather bag and a long-sleeve t-shirt I bartered for in the flea market.

These items also possess sentimental value for me as they came into my possession due to my first successful venture into bartering. The bag came first: beneath a tent stood an elderly (possibly Turkish?) woman sitting behind a table with other wares. The hung down from one of the supports with other leather wares.

Asking how much, the woman responded saying 10 Euro.
I asked for 7. She refused.
Not really caring whether I got the bag or not, I turned to walk away.
She called out for me with 8.
Okay—I got out my wallet.

The story behind the t-shirt pales in comparison. A younger saleslady stood in the middle of the through-fare with a pile of shirts. John noticed the shirt first—a perverted Japanese cartoon character by the name of Crayon-Shinchan surrounded by clouds adorned it. However, it was too small for him and seemed the right size for me.

I proceeded to ask how much. She responded with 1 Euro.
I asked if I could have it for .50 Euro.
She accepted. Simple. Done.

I learned something today: to barter, one shouldn’t get too attached to any particular item. Just offer what seems reasonable and if they refuse, walk away. I figure I won’t get everything this way, but without significant attachments, I will also have few disappointments.

……

Snapping back to the present, the 3v3 basketball game finished with the UW players victorious. The final score: 11-4.

The guys sweaty and the girls eager to get on with the day, we grabbed our belongings and headed towards the subway station…