The Art of the Deal - As learned from the Egyptians
Having been written almost over 30 years ago, I felt "The Art of the Deal" needed an update. The Donald negotiates for reasons of pride and greed. Those in developing countries such as Egypt may negotiate for pride and greed but, for many, they negotiate for survival. Tourism accounts for about
12% of GDP and about the same percentage of employment. The average annual income in Egypt was $2724 U.S. in 2016 or $3509 Canadian. So, when men (and they're always men) hawk their merchandise and service to tourists on the banks of the Nile in Cairo, Luxor, or Aswan or at the entrance to the pyramids in Giza, they are not looking for money to purchase a new car or bigger house. In all likelihood they need money to feed their family (often large), send their kids to school or feed their horse or camel.
When my wife and I had only been in Egypt a few hours, we were given a lesson in the art of the deal I will never forget. I pass on these tactics for all to peruse.
Rule #1 - Lie.
The deal started with what I believed was a happenstance encounter with a pudgy, middle-aged
Egyptian man one street over from the famous Tahrir Square in Cairo. Speaking in excellent English,he asked us where we were from. Then, he asked where we were headed. When we said the Nile, he said the other direction was faster and easier. e would learn later that this was the lie that set the trap but we didn't know better. We reversed tracks accompanied by this amiable gentleman until we passed a shop he said he owned. He invited us inside to meet a young man he said was his son. Unbeknownst to us, the art of the deal had begun.
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| Dudes waiting for tourists to ride their camels & ponies |
12% of GDP and about the same percentage of employment. The average annual income in Egypt was $2724 U.S. in 2016 or $3509 Canadian. So, when men (and they're always men) hawk their merchandise and service to tourists on the banks of the Nile in Cairo, Luxor, or Aswan or at the entrance to the pyramids in Giza, they are not looking for money to purchase a new car or bigger house. In all likelihood they need money to feed their family (often large), send their kids to school or feed their horse or camel.
When my wife and I had only been in Egypt a few hours, we were given a lesson in the art of the deal I will never forget. I pass on these tactics for all to peruse.
Rule #1 - Lie.
The deal started with what I believed was a happenstance encounter with a pudgy, middle-aged
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| Camel, carriages and tourist |
Rule #2. Don’t think win win.
As a salesperson, consideration of the other person's best interests, needs, wants or feelings is only a distraction. That person is a sale, a "mark" in the lingo of the grifter. Taking the advice of the amiable gentleman to heart, we reversed direction and followed him up the street. He continued a pleasant discourse centred on a concern that we enjoy our time in Egypt because, by this time, we'd revealed that we'd only just arrived. Thirty metres later, he stopped and pointed to a shop that he said he owned and asked if we would like some tea. Believing he was truly interested in us, as we were in him, we accepted his invitation.
As a salesperson, consideration of the other person's best interests, needs, wants or feelings is only a distraction. That person is a sale, a "mark" in the lingo of the grifter. Taking the advice of the amiable gentleman to heart, we reversed direction and followed him up the street. He continued a pleasant discourse centred on a concern that we enjoy our time in Egypt because, by this time, we'd revealed that we'd only just arrived. Thirty metres later, he stopped and pointed to a shop that he said he owned and asked if we would like some tea. Believing he was truly interested in us, as we were in him, we accepted his invitation.
Rule #3. Make your customer feel like a guest and beholden to you.
Upon entering the shop, the corpulent gentleman introduced us to his "son" who I'll call Al after the store's name, Al-Hasoun. Al beckoned us to the back of a shop covered with paintings which I now assumed to be an art gallery. Disoriented after just having arrived in a country where we felt decidedly uncomfortable and struggling with jet lag, we followed.
We'd originally entered the gallery upon the invitation of the fat man who'd now disappeared never to return. Jet-lagged, disoriented and suffering a mild form of culture shock, we obeyed the invitation to sit on two low-slug chairs in front of a coffee table and Al. He introduced us to his sister, a hijab-wearing woman about the same age as Al. He told her to retrieve tea while he proceeded with a deal we had no intention of entering.
Al was well-dressed with nice shoes and watch and hair groomed with lots of products. We knew something was up but we weren't sure what. From the paintings pinned to the wall, I surmised that they must be the object of sale but we'd never expressed any interest in them. His sister returns with two glasses of excellent hibiscus tea and places them on the coffee table. We'd shared tea with the owners of lots of shops on our trip to Turkey and never felt any obligation to buy.
Al asked us about our family, whether we had children, how old they were and their names and wrote them on a piece of paper. He did the same with our siblings. He then asked for know our opinions about his paintings which he's pulled from a stack and lain on the floor beside the seating area. From the bunch, he grabbed a smaller painting and told us that this was a gift from him and asked which of our children we like to give it to. When we said “Elizabeth”, he wrote her name in hieroglyphics along the bottom.
We had accepted his hospitality and now a gift.
Upon entering the shop, the corpulent gentleman introduced us to his "son" who I'll call Al after the store's name, Al-Hasoun. Al beckoned us to the back of a shop covered with paintings which I now assumed to be an art gallery. Disoriented after just having arrived in a country where we felt decidedly uncomfortable and struggling with jet lag, we followed.
We'd originally entered the gallery upon the invitation of the fat man who'd now disappeared never to return. Jet-lagged, disoriented and suffering a mild form of culture shock, we obeyed the invitation to sit on two low-slug chairs in front of a coffee table and Al. He introduced us to his sister, a hijab-wearing woman about the same age as Al. He told her to retrieve tea while he proceeded with a deal we had no intention of entering.
Al was well-dressed with nice shoes and watch and hair groomed with lots of products. We knew something was up but we weren't sure what. From the paintings pinned to the wall, I surmised that they must be the object of sale but we'd never expressed any interest in them. His sister returns with two glasses of excellent hibiscus tea and places them on the coffee table. We'd shared tea with the owners of lots of shops on our trip to Turkey and never felt any obligation to buy.
Al asked us about our family, whether we had children, how old they were and their names and wrote them on a piece of paper. He did the same with our siblings. He then asked for know our opinions about his paintings which he's pulled from a stack and lain on the floor beside the seating area. From the bunch, he grabbed a smaller painting and told us that this was a gift from him and asked which of our children we like to give it to. When we said “Elizabeth”, he wrote her name in hieroglyphics along the bottom.
We had accepted his hospitality and now a gift.
Rule #3. Create a demand where none exists.
Then, Al asked us which of "his” paintings we liked. When we said we weren't interested in buying,
he said never mind. He just wanted our honest opinion of his artistic talents. Nicola pointed to one and then he asked me. I hesitated getting a pretty good idea of where this was going but he was insistent and, after all, Nicola had already made a selection. He then asked us which of these paintings we would give to our children. When we said, we watched horror-struck as he wrote their names of the bottom of each painting.
What the fuck? I thought. Before we could make sense of the situation or what was going on we'd picked out three more paintings for our siblings on which he'd written their names. To prove that they hadn't been mass-printed, he rubbed his finger along the edge of a painting to display a small residue left on his finger.
Then, Al asked us which of "his” paintings we liked. When we said we weren't interested in buying,
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| On papyrus painting with name on bottom |
What the fuck? I thought. Before we could make sense of the situation or what was going on we'd picked out three more paintings for our siblings on which he'd written their names. To prove that they hadn't been mass-printed, he rubbed his finger along the edge of a painting to display a small residue left on his finger.
And now, his piece de resistance, he asked what his work was worth to us and repeated how long the paintings had taken to draw. five to seven days, he claimed. He also warned us that we may see some of these paintings at a cheaper price in the market but they were probably made with banana leaves, not papyrus which are much stronger.
Rule #4. Divide and conquer.
Now, he asked his “sister” to show Nicola “her” paintings. When the women were nicely out of earshot with music acting as a nice sound barrier, he told me the deal. He'd be willing to sell all the paintings with the names of our siblings and children written in hieroglyphics along the bottom for a a number below the collective value written on the wall which he now writes on a piece of paper. However, he reminded me that I’m making a judgement on the value of his labour. I replied that I’ll talk it over with my wife and he replied that this was a man’s business.
My initial reaction (and the correct one) was to leave without the "gift" or having purchased a single one. Then, I reminded myself that I was in another country and things are done differently in other countries. Besides, I was making a judgement on "his" work. At this point, I was standing and trying to get Nicola's attention but to no avail.
I gave him a number above which I won't budge and he sensed the truth of my statement and agreed. Then, he gave me the usual pile of malarkey that he’d only given me that price because he wants me to tell my friends about his place and give it a good review on Trip Advisor.
Now, he asked his “sister” to show Nicola “her” paintings. When the women were nicely out of earshot with music acting as a nice sound barrier, he told me the deal. He'd be willing to sell all the paintings with the names of our siblings and children written in hieroglyphics along the bottom for a a number below the collective value written on the wall which he now writes on a piece of paper. However, he reminded me that I’m making a judgement on the value of his labour. I replied that I’ll talk it over with my wife and he replied that this was a man’s business.
My initial reaction (and the correct one) was to leave without the "gift" or having purchased a single one. Then, I reminded myself that I was in another country and things are done differently in other countries. Besides, I was making a judgement on "his" work. At this point, I was standing and trying to get Nicola's attention but to no avail.
I gave him a number above which I won't budge and he sensed the truth of my statement and agreed. Then, he gave me the usual pile of malarkey that he’d only given me that price because he wants me to tell my friends about his place and give it a good review on Trip Advisor.
Rule #5. Close the deal.
To finish the transaction to which he could see I was still reticent, he asked me for my credit card so that he could see if it worked in his machine. (And yes, I’m still going along with this.) When it did work, (surprise), he asked me to put in my PIN number. But, I refused to until I’d spoken to Nicola. Then, in a loud and rather irritated tone of voice, I called Nicola to come and join us. She must have known what was going on but either, she too felt this wasn’t our country and should go along with the male chauvinist mentality or she was just avoiding a difficult situation. She told me it was the former. Nevertheless, she agreed to the price and the purchase was made. I complimented the guy on his salesmanship and he gave us two more paintings. I understood this to be his “tell” as they say in gambling. He’d gotten a good deal and we’d been royally ripped off.
Regroup:
This may be required for the victims of the royal rip off. In the big picture, we really hadn't spent that much money or money we couldn't lose. The problem in my head was that I hadn't even wanted the paintings. Al's winning hand was asking what "his" paintings were worth to us.
First of all, I didn't believe that those were his paintings hanging in the gallery nor did I believe the chunky old dude we'd met on the street was his dad or the girl in the shop his sister. (Although that might have been true.) Second, a product has no value unless there is demand. I might have liked those paintings and I might have thought they were something to someone but to me, I had no idea. So, I gave him a price over which I would never pay. Well played Al.
In conclusion, I considered our money as stolen as when my wallet was taken off the counter at the Guinness Factory in Dublin when I was purchasing tickets for my family. It was gone. Nothing was going to bring it back.
To finish the transaction to which he could see I was still reticent, he asked me for my credit card so that he could see if it worked in his machine. (And yes, I’m still going along with this.) When it did work, (surprise), he asked me to put in my PIN number. But, I refused to until I’d spoken to Nicola. Then, in a loud and rather irritated tone of voice, I called Nicola to come and join us. She must have known what was going on but either, she too felt this wasn’t our country and should go along with the male chauvinist mentality or she was just avoiding a difficult situation. She told me it was the former. Nevertheless, she agreed to the price and the purchase was made. I complimented the guy on his salesmanship and he gave us two more paintings. I understood this to be his “tell” as they say in gambling. He’d gotten a good deal and we’d been royally ripped off.
Regroup:
This may be required for the victims of the royal rip off. In the big picture, we really hadn't spent that much money or money we couldn't lose. The problem in my head was that I hadn't even wanted the paintings. Al's winning hand was asking what "his" paintings were worth to us.
First of all, I didn't believe that those were his paintings hanging in the gallery nor did I believe the chunky old dude we'd met on the street was his dad or the girl in the shop his sister. (Although that might have been true.) Second, a product has no value unless there is demand. I might have liked those paintings and I might have thought they were something to someone but to me, I had no idea. So, I gave him a price over which I would never pay. Well played Al.
In conclusion, I considered our money as stolen as when my wallet was taken off the counter at the Guinness Factory in Dublin when I was purchasing tickets for my family. It was gone. Nothing was going to bring it back.
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| We finally make it to the Nile |
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