Wheelin' and Dealin'
From Travels in India in Chennai, India on Jul 28 '06
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Bangalore was a short hop, as perhaps I have said (I am beginning to lose track) from Chennai, only a half hour flight on Jet Airways. All of our internal flights were on Jet Airways. I had been more worried about those flights than the international one, imagining beaten up old planes and iffy service. Au contraire. The planes were modern and relatively comfortable, and if they could import this level of surface the US airlines would face serious trouble. Even before half the passengers were seated, the stewardesses were working the aisles, handing out cold towels and bottled water. And even though it was a half hour flight, it was at dinner time so they served dinner, and it was good. They actually go out of their way to make you feel comfortable.
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Same goes for the shopping experience. I was walking through the jewelry section of a government strore to get to the toys at the far side. Behind a long counter, there were about 8 young women and men. They were all on commission and quite assertive. They thrust a variety of jewelry toward me and as I shook them off they would say “Just look…don’t buy.” And if my eye focused on any particular piece, that salesman would immediately produce several similar items, matched sets and the like. The only way to escape is to bolt from the room. They are excellent at their trade. Compare that to the the Macy’s, where the sales girl is sucking her teeth, chomping her gum, texting her friend, and rolling her eyes if a customer seeks help. The difference is striking.
So here is my shopping tale par excellence. After the school meeting, I headed out with Ujay, Suresh’s driver. Suresh told him to go to the government store and avoid the high-end private shops. But, first stop was a high-end private shops, just to get a sense of the merchandise and the prices. Then on to the governement shop, which is essentially a department store where one can be confident of the quality of the merch. The trade-off, for better or worse, is that you do not haggle and thus do not get discounts. The price is the price. Supposedly. I had seen some rugs at the private shop that were absolutely stunning and way out of reach, so I stopped in the rug section of the govt shop just to see. We could use a runner for out hallway, thought I, and maybe the price’d be a lot better. Well, the guy has no runners, but he tells me to stop back in 30 minutes and he’ll have some delivered by then. 15 minutes later he tracks me down in another department, and yep the runners have arrived. He unfurls several lovely examples, all cashmere and silk, hand-knotted. Still, the prices are out of reach by a factor of four, and it looks like I’ll save my rupees and settle for some power-loomed cheapo back in the states. The rug guy starts lowering the price and gets to his bottom price but we’re still way away. I try repeatedly to show that I understand the quality and the beauty, but that neither of those make me any wealthier. Finally, I thank him for the umpteenth time and back out. He looks really depressed at his inability to close the sale. On we go, stopping in one more department and then checking out.
About ten minutes later, we’ve made it through three blocks of the inevitable sea of people and are at the edge of a ramp down to the parking garage, when a car pulls up behind us and a door slams. It’s the rug guy, who has somehow found us, and he has two other guys with him, and the rug I liked best. I am mystified and a bit alarmed, but the babble of Hindi between him and my driver do not seem heated. They try to clue me in in halting English, but I have no idea what is going on. Ujay motions me into our car, and the rug guy throws the rug in the trunk and hops in with us. Off we go, following the other car. We drive a few miles across town, where we go into another store, rug in tow. There another guy is waiting for us, and the rug guy is apparently associated with this store as well. You see, he says, wholesale! And he proceeds to sell me the rug at half the lowest price from the govt shop. The sale gets rung up in the new shop, while the other three proceed to unfurl a series of bedspreads, shawls, and quilts to see if they can make another sale. How it all gets accounted for, I will never know.
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