It was pouring rain and I was getting soaked. A carpet seller suggested I step inside to wait it out. Anyone that has been to Turkey knows this means my wallet is in serious danger. Few come out unscathed. Carpet shops are everywhere and every hotel concierge, every restaurant waiter, every tour guide, heck every bathroom attendant is willing and even eager to give you advice on where you should buy one (presumably the one where they get a commission). The shop in Goreme was huge and beautiful. It was set in an old canvasseri where traders on the silk road spent the night beneath the stone walls, their camels resting below. To their credit the carpet sellers weren't pushy and insistent the way their brethen from Istanbul can be. But perhaps they were a little too confident. I was a soft target...a woman shopping alone, no husband to drag me out of the store, the rain keeping me inside. What they didn't realize was that their practiced persuasion, their years and years of experience, the trading that was in their blood for generations was no match for my....picky-ness.
"Yes, i like that color but...mmm the size isn't quite right. Hmm. yes that's a good size but I don't like that color. No, that's not quite the color I want either. I want it to be just like that other one that isn't the right size."
"M'am, these are handmade. They're original pieces. No two are exactly a like."
"Yes, but I can't buy a carpet that I haven't fallen in love with. It just wouldn't make sense"
More and more carpets came out. Stacks were moved. Pieces were dragged from the very bottom. New ones were brought in from other rooms. Others emerged from storage upstairs.
"Hmm, I like the colors but something is a little off with the design. Yes, I like the geometric shapes on that but not the middle. Can we combine the border from this one with the middle of the other one and something with those exact colors??"
After dragging out literally hundreds upon hundreds of carpets, they realized they were beat. He uttered words that no Turkish carpet seller could imagine saying, " I'm sorry we have no more carpets to show you." The rain had stopped by now. I walked out, a little disappointed but with my wallet intact.
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Jennifer Chase Photography
washington DC photographer
www.jenniferchasephoto.com
