I hope your holiday went well.  Starting today, I will resume the pattern of once-a-week postings.  I apologize for the length of this one, but since the post-holiday shopping/returning period is doing it’s thing, I thought this was only appropriate.

Not too long ago (seems like I start a lot of my writing like this, but so it is), I was wandering through the medina in Marrakesh.  And, as tends to happen with wanderings, I found an interesting sight that I probably would not have seen without such ambiguous drifting.  The medina holds plenty of unique and innovative experiences just waiting to be stumbled upon, and the one I found at this moment was an auction.  It was quite small, but goods were being bought and sold, such that one buyer would drive up the price after another did, culminating in this guy over here going home with that thing over there.

Even though there were some carpets available and the auction took place in the local carpet souk, this particular auction was focused on djellabas, the long, somewhat Star-Wars-Jedi-Knight-looking robes that many Moroccans in the medina, both male and female, wear.  Characterized by a large hood and a closed front, the djellaba is worn overtop of regular clothes and is made from a multitude of materials in a variety of colors, depending on the weather and the choice of the wearer.  Two slits where pockets might be expected allow the wearer to access their pants pockets for cell phones, money, and other insundry items. 

This auction saw multiple auctioneers rather than just one with the only set of goods.  Each auctioneer had their own djellabas to sell and their own group of regular customers.  The customers stood in a circle, with the older and more established ones sitting in front, as the auctioneers came around with a djellaba and announced the starting price.  Prospective buyers would call the auctioneer over to investigate the good, checking materials, stitching, craftsmanship, design, color, and size.  The auctioneer would travel from customer to customer, heralding increases in cost as buyer after buyer agreed to price after price. 

For the one older gentleman in front of me, a longtime and well-respected member of the bidding circle, the process of investigating a djellaba was arduous.  Each time an auctioneer came around with a djellaba he fancied, they would stop and hold it for his viewing.  He checked everything: the stitching on the hood, the cut and stitching on the hem, the fold of the cloth, the thickness of the material, everything.  It was the same process everytime a price increased or a new good arrived.  Not once did he increase his bid without investigating every angle of the item.  He may not have tried the djellaba like some of his fellow bidders, but high quality and artistry were the name of the game.  Further, he knew when enough was enough for the quality of the good, selective in his purchasing while advanced in his thought process and research.

As this unfolded before my eyes, I remained silent.  There was plenty to examine and observe, from the conversations around the bidding circle to the reactions of the bidders at a high-priced or low-quality good.  The whole event did not meet any of my stereotyped expectations of an auction, as the atmosphere was anything but quiet.  Deals happened here while conversation among bidders took place over there.  This auctioneer introduced new goods as another haggled over prices.  The sounds and dynamics were stimulating and driving, moving along until customers, sensing a downward trend in the quality and number of goods, began to pack up and go home.

Seeing this local economy in action was pretty sweet, not just for the sake of the broader market picture, but rather for the knowledge that I gleaned just from watching.  When I go into shops now, looking for a djellaba or other goods, I can position myself as a more informed consumer, working for the mutual benefit of both the shopkeeper and I as we bargain on a price.  We can have a fairer relationship based on my knowledge and his/her knowledge, transparent and open as a result of my experience.  Is it to say that I won’t be misplaced in my assertions about an item or that the shopkeeper won’t try to make a quick dirham off me?  It would be foolish to think so.  But I do feel a little bit more secure in the knowledge of how to buy a proper and high-quality good, in a place where the trappings of tourism can lead to many knock-offs and fakes. 

I may not know all the tricks to the trade, but learning from the bidders in the djellaba auction makes me a bit more prepared, aware, and ready for the challenges of shopping in Morocco’s medinas.  Long may the informed consumer follow a path of investigation and inquiry.  They are powerful tools that let us know those around us in a better and more nuanced way, such that we can be better educated and empathetic members of our global community.

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