Syrian Souq-rat

I have become a market rat. Some of my favorite experiences, and where I undoubtedly learn the most, have come when I camp out in a local street market for a few hours. I love watching shop-owners hound passers-by, and trying to anticipate how different strategies will work. When things are slow, I usually strike up a conversation with the shop-owners. I have a whole slew of questions I throw at them:  their take on the psychology of bargaining, how they choose their first words, stories about their greatest rip-offs, whether they ever lie about the quality of their merchandise, which nationalities are the most difficult to deal with, what their business ambitions are, how much schooling they have, etc.

I had a particularly interesting experience this afternoon and learned a great deal from men named Sumir and Abrahim. My interactions with these fellows began yesterday. I was walking through one of the main bazaar streets in Old Damascus, very close to the landmark Umayyad mosque. I had just finished lunch and was in a pleasant mood, but I NEVER purchase things on impulse. All over the world, I am constantly barked at by shop-owners looking for a score — they have nothing to lose by trying to catch the attention of someone who was otherwise going to pass by. By the very definition of this process, most of these initial attention grabbers lack originality and don’t even garner more than a hand raise. Yesterday, as I passed-by, Abrahim asked me: “what are you looking for?” I responded: “nothing.” I don’t  normally respond to an opener such as that, but Abrahim’s perfect English and huge smile prompted me to not disrespect him without acknowledgement. He instantly responded: “So you are a simple man of nothing? Where are you from?” I liked his first sentence, so I stopped. He followed up his question by asking me out of genuine curiosity: “where are your travels taking you?” I told him: “I am a man of nothing who is everywhere!” After a big laugh, he told me to return to him if I had any questions about Damascus or Syria.

I was in the area this afternoon and my appetite was picking-up, so I returned to his store and asked him for a lunch recommendation. I told him I wanted something cheap, authentic and nutritious. It is astonishing how difficult it normally is to communicate that. However, Abrahim understood and recommended a perfect place and dish. I had another “foul” variant: chickpeas and roasted chestnuts in olive oil and tahini sauce with fresh herbs, tomatoes and olives on top, pickled vegetables on the side, and two large pieces of flat bread that were a hybrid of pita and the spongy variant you get with Ethiopian food. I went back to Abrahim’s place to thank him for the recommendation and he invited me to sit down with him and a couple other shop-owners. I eagerly accepted and didn’t feel any pressure to even browse his store. I was hooked when he offered me tea, and served me a glass when he got a round for his coterie.

After a few minutes, I got up and started to browse his store. It had admittedly excellent textiles, and I am always on the market for scarves. He didn’t abuse me and let me browse. I found a scarf I liked and asked him the price. It was a cotton scarf very similar to one I bought at Uniqlo in Beijing for $10. His initial offer was $4. I had something to compare his price to and knew he was being reasonable. I ended up spending an hour in the store, really digging into details and I learned an immense amount about the textiles industry, and obviously the Syrian one in particular. At this point, I felt obliged to make a purchase, legitimately believed I was getting a good deal, and appreciated the merchandise. I ended up paying $20 for three scarves (one is extremely nice and made of silk an cotton, or so I am told!)

I sat back down with Abrahim’s crew and felt like I had gained the right to ask tough questions and to receive honest answers — I had purchased enough scarves for one day! As an aside, all of these guys are self taught and speak many languages. They are very intelligent and entrepenreurial men who are surrounded by tourists all day, giving themselves the perfect opportunity to hone their skills and language abilities.

I don’t want to give away all of my secrets, and this internet cafe is about to close, so I will summarize my observations of making a sale in a street market into a couple VERY SIMPLE and OBVIOUS rules:

1. The first component is getting the consumer’s attention. You have to do something original and rely on your instincts. Different people merit different openers. You cannot appear desperate or threatening. Ideally, it should be something tangential to your goals. If you see a tourist taking a photo, ask if you can take one of them. Ask a caucasian passer-by if they speak Arabic. If they look lost or confused, ask if you can help them.

2. You must make the consumer feel like they got a great deal and negotiated beyond their normal means. There is a lot of feel to this, and your opening price is critical. You learn much from experience. According to a few of the Syrian shop-owners, the Spanish are unrealistic and always cut the price to a tenth — but they will eventually purchase. The Dutch are stiff and won’t end up purchasing. Flatter the French. Students don’t know how to bargain but don’t have much money. You must use your experiences and instincts to set your opening price. However, once that is done successfully, lavish the customer with praise, but not in an overbearing or obvious way. As you get closer to striking a deal, change your facial expression to one of defeat.

3. The third rule is not as obvious and should not be underestimated. You must give the customer an enjoyable shopping experience. Depending how much time each of you have, give them interesting information about the product — a story they can take home with them. People want to appear interesting when a stranger praises their accessory and they are able to rattle off the story of how they acquired it. Even though the stranger almost never cares, and this very rarely happens — the possibility is there and your ego has been stroked. With scarves, show them a few different ways to tie them — ideally, ways they didn’t previously know. If they are deliberating, change the subject and take their mind off the purchase. Guilt trip them through your friendliness into making a purchase.

Internet cafe is closing. I might update this in the future.

Overcoming Preconceived Notions and Propaganda

Admittedly, I am far from an expert, having spent less than twelve hours in Syria — but my first impression of this country is remarkable. The generosity I have already been shown is staggering. Here are a few things that have happened:

1. The head immigration officer personally called Damascus to expedite the processing of my Visa because my prepaid bus arrived at the border.

2. A fellow on my bus gave me his bracelet, a granola bar, a bottle of water and drove me into the city center with his wife. He didn’t speak any English and needed a translator to tell me his intentions.

3. I looked interested in the grapefruits at a night market, and the pauper of a salesperson offered me a deliciously ripe one “free for my friends.” The same thing happened at the apricot and dates stands. As an aside, the fruit here is incredible. I bought ten fuji apples for $1.

4. I bargained for an hour and a half with the concierge at my hotel. He is now my amigo, gave me a crazy deal and a free map. He offered to show me around town tomorrow, his day off.

5. I sat down at a stand for the incredible invention of ‘foul’ and a kid who was eating next to me started chatting me up in English. He is studying economics and loves practicing his English. We talked for about ten minutes, and then he gave me a tour until I basically shoved him off to return to my hotel and to all of you. We are going to meet in the morning so that he can give me a tour and practice his English. Foul (pronounced ‘fool’) are chestnuts that have been boiled in a massive steaming vat filled with lemon juice, water and salt. You are served the foul at a standing stall with an array of exotic spices in front of you and a glass of the aforementioned steaming concoction. This is right up my alley.

6. The amusing number of people who have shouted at me in passing: “Bush bad, American people good!” I guess this is a regular expression here.

The streets this evening were teeming with normal and pleasant people — I have yet to see a terror attack. The north of Syria was verdant and beautiful — this country is not a completely arid desert. No camels. No terror training facilities. No enmity. Only a bunch of ordinary individuals who love to decimate preconceived notions.

Argentinian Volvo Buses > their Turkish Mercedes counterparts

I woke up yesterday morning in Batumi at 7:10. I ate a couple cakes and downed a glass of tea that my homestay mother had prepared. I was trying to get a good start on my descent into Turkey, and was  walking to the Marshrutka station by 7:50. I knew I was going to have a long couple days in transit, so I was excited for the four kilometer walk to the station.

I am cruel. I built up that last paragraph as if another Bolivian style adventure were about to unfurl, but that is not the case — transit in Turkey is straightforward. However, this Turkish language keyboard sure is frustrating for a gringo. Despite my uneventful travel, my journey the last two days has been long. I was in motion for about 32 hours. There was a bus departing for Konya when I arrived in Hopi, so I jumped on and sacrificed time for scenary and comfort. The ride was stunning. We hugged the Black Sea all the way from Hopi to Samsun. We then cut south through the heart of Turkey and passed through the lunar landscape dotting the valley of the fairy chimneys, the mountainous south and then the Mediterranean coast.

The catalyst for this route was an urge to visit Syria that I was recently struck with. It looks like that will happen tomorrow. For the evening, I am staying in a surprisingly decent hotel atop the Antakya bus station. I arrived early enough in the afternoon that I could have easily migrated into the cıty center, but I was compelled by the station`s setting on the outskirts of town in a hilly agricultural area — the perfect topography for a long run! I went for my fırst run since Kazakhstan and was able to comfortably wear shorts for the first time since Yunnan! That is another reason I want to explore Syria — I have been stuck in unseasonably cold weather and have seen snow in each of my last three countries! Brıng on the heat Damascus! Back to that run, people everywhere I have gone, but especially those in Turkey and Kazakhstan did not know how to respond to a caucasian getting his exercise on. Reactions were intense and ranged from heckles to curious `salams´ and a couple cheers.

There are many ideas flowing through my mind, but this frustrating keyboard and bus station computer are too big of a deterrence for my ambitions to surmount. Sorry to those who were curious.

Off to Syria in the morning (Aleppo and Damascus!)

I arrived in Georgia’s Black Sea party town of Batumi this afternoon. Unfortunately, I chose a rainy, out-of-season, holiday! Thus, the city is absolutely dead. However, I was anticipating this and am mainly using it as a stopover on my way to Turkey. Getting through the caucusas and into Turkey is a pain in the arse as a result of all the border closures.

I axed my Armenia plans in favor of exploring Syria for a couple days. Stop holding your breath, you silly American readers. I have heard unbelievably good things about this country, from multiple trusted sources and I will be extremely cautious.

I hunkered down for the last couple hours and attempted to learn basic Turkish and Arabic and did a bit of planning.

This internet cafe is closing! Sianara Caucusas!

Outmaneuvered.

I wasn’t in top blog updating form after my winery shenanigans yesterday. Davit took me to his buddy’s place and they gave me the royal treatment. Everything was going smoothly after a couple liters of wine, until they tricked me into a massive shot of “chacha,” the Georgian spirit of choice. They had a massive diesel storage tank full of the stuff in one of their cellars and they asked me if I wanted to try a small bit. Obviously, I accepted, but insisted on a tiny shot. I downed it. A couple minutes later, my host, Beka, poured another tiny shot. After some pleading, I accepted on the terms that this was truly the last one. I downed it. They ERUPTED in laughter! In Georgia, you can only take shots in odd numbers. This is well documented and to their defense, I had been warned by multiple sources. That bastard Beka placed a massive, brim-binging glass in front of me. I knew this was going to be disastrous. I warned them of my imminent implosion, and they assured me that was their aim all afternoon. I took the shot, had an incredible time with these guys, and puked all the way home. I haven’t puked in years. However, I did learn a lot about Georgian wine and had a free catered afternoon on a three century old compound.

As a related aside, that same cellar has two hollow bull’s horns on one of the tables. Each of the horns holds two liters of liquid. They fill these with wine during feasts, and have a tradition where a driker is not allowed to put a horn down until it is empty. You can pour as much in as you want when it is your turn — one drop to two liters. They regularly have competitions. Beka’s (obviously) deceased grandfather is still a legend in the scene. He was able to down 10 liters in a sitting! He would decimate a two liter horn in two open-throat gulps. He also had legendary liver problems and died in his fifties. Beka is 21 and has worked his way up to five liters per sitting.

I arrived in Tbilisi this morning and went for an excellent walk around town. I also found the Saakashvili protesters and watched from a distance for a couple hours. I don’t know enough about the situation to feel comfortable taking part. I would estimate there were 5,000 people, and most of a surprisingly mature age. I would say that at least half of the protesters were over 45. It wasn’t just a group of bored university students looking for an adrenaline rush.

I am going to explore more tomorrow and hopefully find the sulfur baths! I will depart for Yerevan, Armenia on Friday.

Shaun, king of the Caucusas with $35 a day.

I awoke amidst a full-fledged blizzard and a bustling village. Georgia is an Eastern Orthodox Christian nation, so their Easter festivities are a week later than my familiar Western counterparts this year. Today is Palm Sunday and this place takes this day extremely seriously. The streets were filled with brush-bearing Georgians, parading between the three ancient churches in Telavi. I woke up to another fantastic feast and then joined the migration as an observer — albeit not a very discrete blonde one. However, my participation was greatly encouraged and I received many awards of approval. Couple my curiosity with aforementioned blondness and the fact that America has (for the most part) been a strong ally of Georgia, and you might begin to get a sense for how embracing these people are of me!

Returning to that feast, Svetlana prepared: two fried eggs, more fresh bread and yogurt, homemade cherry jam, a pot of coffee and a fried crepe filled with beans. These people would explode if they ate more than two meals a day!

I met Davit at 13:00 and he took me on a spectacular tour of some of this regions ancient sites. Cathedrals from the 5th and 6th centuries, medieval castles, and some of the oldest wine fields in the world — not bad for a country of five million with a befuddled history on the fringe of many of the world’s greatest empires. Davit is ridiculously knowledgeable, and I was able to fact check him a couple of times to prove that he wasn’t just talking out of his ass! Tomorrow, we are going to begin at 11:00 and do the wine tasting portion of the tour 🙂 He worked in the wine business for a few years, and has drunk enough wine for four lifetimes (as he likes to put it.) Spending $35 a day feels like splurging after my recent <$10 shenanigans, but it is money well spent. I am learning things that would otherwise be inaccessible and from which I will derive pleasure for the rest of my life.

To reiterate, this country’s history is unbelievably complicated. Its future is similarly enigmatic. However, its present certainly seems filled with hardship.

Gorging in Georgia

I woke up to snow in Sheki and a massive platter of bread, cheese and jams that my home-stay mother provided for me. It would have been easy to spend another day, but I had conquered that small mountain town and decided to press on. I walked through the snow to the marashrutka station and jumped on a string of cramped little mini-buses en-route to my current locale of Telavi, Georgia. I am staying with a beautiful host family in their sprawling and dilapidated stone compound. My new host mother, Svetlana, served me another unbelievable feast: bean and vegetable stew, fresh yogurt with herbs, a mushroom and herb dish, homemade bread, rice pilaf and approximately a liter of their homemade wine. All of these ingredients were either grown in their garden or picked-up at their local farmer’s market — which I visited this afternoon. The carrots, radishes and beets were spectacular!

The countryside here is medieval and stunning. Castles and cathedrals dot rolling, forested hills — with the intimidating snow-capped caucusas looming in the background. I continuously picture myself in renaissance garb.

Svetlana set me up with a friend named Davit who is going to show me around for the next two days. We are meeting tomorrow at 13:00, after the Georgian Orthodox ceremonies, to tour some historic sites and visit his friend’s wineries. I am paying Svetlana $17.00 a day to stay in her lovely upstairs bungalow, with board included. Davit is getting $20 for two days of touring and tasting. More than Laos, but still a mind-boggling deal.

Itinerary Update!

I am leaving Baku in the morning, and heading onwards to Sheki in the Eastern Azeri Caucusas.I will spend a day there, and then make my way into Georgia’s Kakheti region, where I will tour old-world wineries and hopefully avoid debaucheries belligerence at the hands of generous locals. I will then press on to Tbilisi. My plans from that point are still flexible.

Stream of Conciousness Style.

The amount of wealth that has recently been transferred to the east is staggering. Baku is RICH! The clothes and vehicles here are ridiculous. The old city is exquisitely beautiful. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and has recently been revamped. Truly, it has defied all of my expectations. I have thus far had an excellent experience dealing with Azeris. I have already learned the basics of their language and have been treated with warm hospitality on numerous occasions!

I am staying at a guesthouse run by a family of women that spans three generations! I am the only one staying there, and they treated me to a delicious lunch of a chickpea based stew, with heaps of bread and vegetables on the side. In fact, all of my meals the last few days have been spectacular. Last night, in Almaty, I ate the fruity version of plov. This is a slow cooked rice dish with apricots, raisins and carrots. I suplemented it with grilled chicken and peppers and a vegetable/feta salad. This morning, I tested Air Astana’s “special order menu.” They offer a staggering amount of special meals: raw foodist, fruititarian, lacto-ovo vegeterian, vegan, kosher, muslim, bland, etc. I went with the lacto-ovo vegetarian meal and I can confidently say it was the healthiest in-flight meal I have ever been served! Spinach, potatoes, tomatoes, mushrooms, bread, coffee, fruit salad, orange juice and tomato juice. I had boursch and bread for dinner.

As an aside, by far the most underrated, and likely the third most important phrase to learn in a foreign language is: “where is?” This phrase is remarkably versatile and important. With this phrase, and clever charades, you can obtain anything you need. Harda (type on air keyboard, take a bite from your air spoon, make a vehicle’s sound, lay your head to rest on your air pillow, etc.) In case you were wondering, the most important phrases are: “hello” and “thank you.” Combining these two with a smile opens many doors. There is then a huge gap before you arrive at “yes” and “no.”

As another aside, it is unbelievable how far your money goes outside of the west. In China, I was able to buy Washington apples and Florida oranges for less than I can get them in the states. In fact, I was able to buy produce from California for cheaper than I can find it at a farmer’s market a couple hundred kilometers from where it was grown. I read an article in today’s ‘International Herald Tribune’ about google’s new Chinese music app. 1.1 million songs are going to be available for free download — something that will be exclusive to China. There is something systemically wrong when Americans are paying (and stupid enough to be willing to pay) prices that are orders of magnitude higher than those abroad, for identical products. These goods are sold at such high prices, because we are willing to go into debt to consume them — and that debt is currently held by China. China then gets to turn around and consumes the same products for much less. Shockingly, outside of housing, the real standard of living in China’s major eastern cities is almost identical to what I observe in the states. We are basically arbitraging money to China, and along with the Chinese, there is a very small class of people who are profiting from this — namely, whoever is selling goods at these higher prices to stupid Americans.

Furthermore, the only solution I currently see to America’s declining hegemony is to reduce our dependence on the East’s hydrocarbons, and to moreover, become a leader in future energy technology. I am enjoying my time in Azerbaijan, but there is nothing here except for commodities. They produce their own food and energy, with a large surplus on the latter, and are thus able to consume an incredible amount of discretionary bullshit from the west (clothes, cars, yachts, jewelery, etc.)

The US has been focusing on minutiae for the last decade. We need to stop making minor incremental safe changes, and truly make some massive investments in infrastructure and technology — specifically, we need to drench researchers in energy related technology with money. We need to make the incentives so high, that we can’t help but lead this space going forward. We are going to be hurting in the short-term either way. The infrastructure in the rest of the world has become too robust, the education gap has narrowed and we are riding a sinking ship. However, it is not to late. I reckon we will still have research and education supremacy for the next decade, at the current rate of decline. Our best hope, is to leverage this, to drown the space in cash, and thereby create jobs and maintain incentives for the world’s most talented to immigrate. We also need to completely revamp our visa policies. I have heard some alarming stories on the road — we have become stodgy — the future is obviously for nimble states.

Finally, I don’t want this to be interprated as wanting to close off from the rest of the world. We also must realize our diminished status and listen/collaborate. The worst path America could puruse would be to blame others and to continue acting out of fear and jealousy. The reasons why China is able to consume products at such low prices and still buy our debt are failures all our own. Blaming and isolating will only speed our decline. We must embrace China and developing nations and work towards a mutually enhanced future.

I sat down to simply update you on my last couple meals and it turned into a stream of conciousness rant about how to save the world. This probably makes no sense and I am, once again, too tired to even proofread this. Here is a summary of my last week: 2 days on a  train from Beijing to Urumqi – 1 day rest – 2 days to Almaty – 1.5 days rest – 4 hours of sleep – flew to Baku – been on the go here for 17 hours. I am absolutely exhausted — but free of the censors!

I’m Backkkk!!!

***I sent this earlier as an e-mail, so move along if you have already read it.

I am writing this from an internet cafe in Baku! These last couple days have been quite an adventure. I woke up at 3:40 this morning to try and catch a taxi in the rain and I luckily found one immediately.

I have had some insane experiences the last couple weeks. I will try to write about some of them in the future. Backtracking, the China immigration officers confiscated my China lonely planet on my way out of the country. These are banned because their map doesn’t show Taiwan as being a part of China. After discovering my book, the immigration officers put my name on an undisclosed list — who knows what that means. They then made me continuously repeat “Taiwan shi Zhongguo!” This translates to: “Taiwan is China!” Add to this the facts that I couldn’t access my blog or youtube, the Tibet being closed, etc. Very interesting stuff. Despite these experiences, I am unbelievably bullish on China. I will explain this at a later date.

Overall, I had an excellent experience in Kazakhstan — but had another couple bizarre experiences this morning. When I walked into, two police officers immediately whisked me away into a small room. They made me take off my packs and jackets. They frisked me and made me OPEN and EMPTY my wallets! I complied, but wouldn’t hand the contents to them. They then asked me, in Russian, if I wanted to buy tea? I played dumb, as I shook in fear, and I kept repeating, “I don’t want any tea!” This is an old Russian code for, we want a bribe. After a couple minutes, they let me enter the airport!

Next, my Kazakh immigration officer didn’t want to let me through the gates because I didn’t have an Azerbaijan visa or letter of invitation. Kazakh residents need a letter of invitation to get a visa upon arrival, but Americans, Europeans, Canadians, etc. don’t. After talking to about 8 people and 30 minutes of my time — she stamped my passport and let me through.

I didn’t have any problems entering Azerbaijan — other than the expensive visa. This place is madness. On my way into town, I passed tons of development and I didn’t see one worker doing anything. The streets were lined with men just standing around talking to each other. I had the same experience in much of Latin America. They don’t even pretend to look busy. Mind you, this was at 9:00 am. This place would be an absolute shit-hole if they didn’t have so many hydrocarbons.

There is an ungodly amount of money in downtown Baku. Flashy cars and
expensive designer clothes abound.

I arrived completely unprepared, without a guidebook, knowledge of the language, place to stay, etc.! However, I love a challenge and think I have figured this situation out. I am in downtown and found a couple potential guesthouses. I also found the phone number for the only English language bookshop in town. I am on my way now to sort these things out.

This is surreal. I am in Azerbaijan.