Then the next stall....they will block your way, try to put things in your hand, follow you down the block. I finally just walked down the sidewalk and smiled and said good morning until there was an alley I could get out to the street and watch the beginnings of a parade.
It is a holiday. My driver didn't know which one...maybe Labor Day. Small band and fire truck and lots of people with signs. I walked back through to get to my driver. By then the word was out that the mean old American hag was out of cash. Did that stop them? Swipey, swipey miss, madame, mama....oh hell no....I'm done.
I wish I could buy something from everyone. I know the are desperate just by their faces and that breaks my heart. Just wish I didn't have to get mean for them to listen and take no for an answer.
And there are no deals at the craft market. You are going to pay top American dollar/European Euro. Do not assume because they live in small, rural villages that they aren't savvy.
If had been more mentally prepared for the onslaught I would have haggled more. Since the stalls had same things, I would have had them work out who was going to give me the best price.
Anyway, I came away with a couple of Zambian handicrafts that were made by someone's hand. Is it too early for a beer?
Enough bitching...still VERY happy to be here. It's all apart of an amazing experience that I will never forget.
The parade setting up
Along the main road of Livingstone
The parade setting up
Along the main road of Livingstone
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