Negotiating: Tanzania

While in Arusha (big city, hamburgers and fancy coffee drinks with decorative leaves in the foam) we wandered over to the Maasai market—which is not, in fact, a Maasai market. It is a square where people set up stalls and sell “tribal” looking goods. There are no Maasai actually there selling anything; I’m sure the real Maasai are too busy herding cattle hundreds of miles across the Serengeti to set up shop in an urban center. [Note: This does not mean they are not enterprising: we met with some Maasai selling bracelets and necklaces at a campsite and I have heard that the Maasai hang around beaches where white women vacation—you know what I mean. I do not know enough about the Maasai to know if there are cultural rules about existing outside the tribe or breaking from traditional roles.] The market we wandered into was packed. The stalls share the same walls and there is just enough room to walk down the aisle. We were led there (after wandering in the complete wrong direction) by a man whose family has a stall set up…

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