A trip the market in Africa is like doing your Christmas-Eve shopping in a mega mall with only used car salesmen as vendors. The crowds are endless and the salesmen are aggressive. Shop after shop are lined next to each other for miles in every direction, creating a scene that looks (and smells) like shots fromSlumdog Millionaire.
Kumasi, Ghana's second largest city and home to the largest market in West Africa was the destination for our team's second weekend getaway. So far, I've found that it's a good place to find bargain priced soccer jerseys, learn about the culture of the ancients in Ghana, and enjoy a roadside omelet.
We had the opportunity to tour the palace of the most renowned tribal king in Ghana (of the Ashanti tribe) and visit a few crafting and potery villages, but time spent in the marketplace has been the highlight by far.
The market's merchandise options are many. There are vendors who specialize in cleaning and selling shoes (my new Nike Sandals cost less than $10, my friend's new Teva's only $3), to those who sell chickens, to silverware and dining sets, to Bibles, to apparel, and just about everything else in between.
While in the market, there are a variety of refreshments to choose from. Bread and margarin (2 dimes), pure drinking water (3 pennies), cornbread (dime and a nickel), and plantain-chips (35 cents) are what I usually opt for, while many of the girls buy the ice-cream packets (a quarter) at every opportunity. Each of these delicacies is served in style, too, as the vendors carry their products on their heads, hands-free most of the time, as they bob and weave through the hustle and bustle of the market. My favorite treat remains the roadside grilled corn and fresh omelets. The omelets aren't difficult to make, but when the professionals do it (the 10-12 year old girls and their mothers) they toast the bread to perfection and pack the veggies in with the eggs just right, all in about 3-4 minutes flat. And for the American equivalent of 2 quarters per omelet, you can't beat the price.
Shopping in the market is a contact sport. Elbows and shoulders bump constantly, children grab at your arms to try to drag you to their mom's establishment, and taxis and tro-tros screaming down the side roads turn walking down narrow streets lined with gutters into quite the balancing act. My highlight was yesterday, dragging a child on my arm, being followed by a middle-aged woman who wanted me to take her home with me to America, ducking my head and shoulders to avoid the massive bowls full of merchandise the young girls carried on their heads, and watching my feet so as not to step on the loose chickens that had escaped their owner's nets. A bit more hectic than the Midland Mall.
The most exciting part? Bargain prices. The common saying is that "there are no fixed prices in Africa." So depending on your approach, you can walk up to a vendor and name your price, or ask his, in what becomes a spar for a compromise somewhere in the middle. This is at once the most enjoyable and the most stressful part of shopping anywhere in Ghana, as the vendors will surely hike the price when they see a foreign skin color. The cards I play are to say that I'm a volunteer (which lowers the price slightly from 'tourist' level) and a football fan (which amounts to a brief conversation each time that shaves off a few cedis) first, before demonstrating that I speak and understand much of the native language, and know when I'm being told the "obruni" (white man's) price rather than the "obibini" (black man's price). I always want the obibini price, of course. And while I'm sure I never quite get it, I like to think I get close. All of this, of course, takes time, begging the question of whether it's worth 10 minutes to save a quarter on a soccer jersey. Maybe it is - maybe it isn't. But to pay the face value is not only a lame attempt to engage in the pursuit of a lower price, but also an insult to the Ghanaians, who expect to have to work for a high price on each sale.
What makes it all worthwhile is the glimpse into an entirely unique style of business transactions and commercialism. The public aspect of the culture is made especially clear in the markets, where salesmen often seem just as interested in socializing with one another as they do in making their sales. Amid the excitement of the market I've had many conversations about soccer (I'm headed to a match here Sunday afternoon), my family life, and the culture in Kumasi.
So during the Day-after-Thanksgiving sales this November, when folks around are yelling, falling, and stressing, I'll be thankful for my training in the markets of Kumasi.
