The other day I teased at my carpet buying experience and the plethora of stories I’ve collected as part of that journey.
Honestly, there are a TON of stories here, BUT, the most important is my story of ‘The Brothers’, as I call them, and the very sweet gift they gave me as a farewell.
I met The Brothers last fall at a Diplomatic Bazaar… you name it, there was someone selling it. And honestly, there had to have been 15 to 20 different carpet venders. It was kind of a mess. They were all grouped together on the same lawn... no discernible breaks from one vender to the next and no aisle to walk through.
Remember, back in the States before joining the Foreign Service, I used to plan and manage Arts Festivals… which is pretty much the exact same concept as this Fall Bazaar I was attending. And when planning an arts festival (a good arts festival) the number one rule is to spread your product around the venue. You don’t want two landscape painters next to each other, you don’t want two jewelry artists next to each other… you get the idea.
Well, at this Bazaar all of the venders were clumped together based on what they sold. Brass was with brass, furniture was with furniture, and all 15 to 20 carpet venders were jumbled together in one huge mess.
Imagine living in a city designed on a grid with no roads, where all the buildings butted up against each other. Imagine how hard it would be to get home if your building was in the center of that grid. Well… that was where The Brothers were.
I wasn’t really looking for carpets that day… honestly, I hadn’t been in Pakistan long enough to know up from down, let along the fair price for seemingly random items.
But I was looking for carpet coasters. Carpets small enough to use as coasters… for drinks. Serena didn’t ask for much that early into my tour (going into Christmas), but she had specifically asked for carpet coasters… so I went looking. And you know what? None of the venders had them, at least not the venders with the primo locations around the edge of the carpet enclave.
The carpet vender grid was pretty darn intimidating. Everyone was going for the hard sell… and to get to the interior venders, you literally had to trample on layer upon layer of carpets, so the idea of walking into the center of the beast wasn’t really my idea of a good time. But I teamed up with a couple friends and we ventured in.
It was one… big… crazy… melee.
“Sir! Look at this! You must buy this!”
Me: “Do you have carpet coaters?”
“No! But I have lovely bed sheets! Here feel the bed sheets! Rub them on your face!”
Me: “Do you have carpet coasters?”
“No, but I have this very beautiful table cloth, you must buy it for your wife of she won’t love you or bare you children!”
Me: “Do you have carpet coasters?”
“No, but I have three slices of cucumber. Don’t you like cucumber?”
Finally, I stumbled across a young man in tradition Muslim garb.
Me: “Do you have carpet coasters?”
Him: “Yes, I have many different varieties.”
And he did. And he turned out to be the ONLY vender carrying such a small and simple item.
He made me a good price and I bought quite a few. And as the day wore on and my friends saw my coaster loot, they made me introduce them to The Brothers… by the end of the day I probably took about a half dozen friends to buy coasters from them.
And with each visit ‘The Brother’ chatted me up a bit.
On the day of the Bazaar I met the Middle brother and the Youngest brother… and I have to be honest, I was very impressed with the Middle brothers English. And when I compliment his English I’m not talking about his accent or my ability to understand him… I’m talking about his use of the language. He was using a lot of western colloquialisms which is not the norm here and he was also laughing at my dry sarcastic jokes… legitimately.
When you’ve been overseas for a while you quickly realize sarcasm and dry humor almost NEVER translate even when you share a common language. Most of the time you just get a blank stare or a confused smile… and then you have to explain the joke… which never goes over well and you end up saying, “Nevermind,” and look like an idiot… which I’m pretty good at.
Anyway, I could have a normal conversation with the Middle brother without having to be self conscious about words I chose to use, or more accurately, the words I blurted without thinking.
Needless to say, when he invited me to visit him in his store I legitimately took him up on it… although because of work and R&R travel, it took me a few months to organize my initial visit.
When I finally did, I had the opportunity to meet the Older brother, who was very candid and honest… and very western in speech, while being very traditional in dress. I immediately like him.
Shopping in Pakistan is a very interesting experience and it takes some getting used to… mainly because it’s not a cold and disconnected chore like it is in the States.
When you shop in Pakistan, it’s more like a visit. You sit, you talk, you get to know each other, have a cup of tea, show off photographs of your kids, and exchange stories of the world. It’s not uncommon for 30 minutes to pass before you even look at a product, let alone discuss price.
And interestingly enough… the venders who want to talk price and push a sale up front are usually the ones who are trying to rip you off. It’s the venders who behave as if you’re a guest in their home and are in no rush are the venders you want to invest your time in, because after your visit, they believe they are selling to a friend rather than a customer. And at the same time… I feel like I’m buying from a friend too. It’s actually pretty darn fun… and not to sound overly cynical… it’s a great sales tactic as well.
ANYWAY, as I visited with the Brothers their story came together… explaining why they were so adapt to western vernacular and understanding of western culture and thought, while also balancing their traditional religious beliefs.
They were educated in Canada.
At least the two eldest brothers, the youngest is probably only twelve or thirteen and speaks limited English… only what his brothers have taught him.
As their story goes, the brothers are sixth (or whatever) generation Turkmen carpet dealers. They specialize in Turkman/Afghani Tribal rugs and their great-grandfather had become very popular in the Diplomatic circles because of his honestly and fair dealings.
I actually saw a lot of this while working with them. The Brother would go out of their way to point out flaws in their carpet, “See here? When we got this rug, it was damaged here and we had to repair it… however, this rug is 60 years old and after the repair, the only way we could match the vegetable dyes was by using chemical dyes… so I cannot tell you this carpet is 100% natural.”
And this wasn’t an isolated occurrence… they did this a few times… occasionally… and only once did I find the flaw glaring. Most of them were so perfectly mended that I never would have noticed if not told.
Anyway, they great-grand father handed the family business of to their grandfather, who handed it off to their father… each generation building their business and reputation even bigger and better. They had become so big and integrated into Diplomatic community that their father decided it was important to send his sons for a western education… and so the two oldest moved to Canada to attend college.
Then, their father passed away suddenly. Unexpectedly. Probably a heart attack.
The boys instantly inherited a business they understood… grew up in… but weren’t properly prepared to take over. It hadn’t been the family’s tradition to write things down… they were a family of oral tradition. And their father died before he had passed his knowledge onto the next generation. Their father passed with all of this business contacts tucked away in his head.
The boys moved home and were forced to start over from scratch.
They’re smart though, they knew embedding themselves in the Diplomatic Community was the best way to go… and the generations before had taught them that going for the quick sale/rip off wasn’t the key to success. Diplomats have money… and they have friends… and being fair and honest is the best way to meet their friends.
They must have made me for being someone with friends and clout among his friends when I brought so many to buy carpet coasters. But, they treated me right and gave me great deals… at least I think they were great deals.
I ended up buying quite a few rugs from them. And I know a number of my friends had also visited their store and bought from them. I know, because my friends told me they were going… and they show me what they buy (if they buy).
And every time one of my friends visits them (whether they buy anything or not) The Brothers always send me a very nice thank you email.
However, what impresses me the most about their emails, as if I wasn’t impressed enough already, is that they never say, “Thank you so much for sending your friend to our store. He looked at many rugs, did he say anything? Do you think he will come back and buy?”
No… when the brothers email me. They never mention my friends visiting… the never mention sales… all they say is, “Thank you for being a kind and generous friend. I hope all is well in your and your family’s lives. May God bless you.”
Short and sweet… you know? I didn’t really grow up in a ‘thank you’ card writing family, but my step-mother-in-law swears by it… and I’m starting to recognize the impact.
Anyway, now for the point of my story… however, to truly appreciate the POINT, you probably needed all the exposition.
The Brothers had been holding quite a few rugs for me, but I was having a devil of a time getting to their shop to pick them up. And I was starting to get nervous about my upcoming pack out, so I asked if they would be able to deliver. And of course they were more than willing to accommodate, but while I was on the phone they said, “Are you leaving for vacation? Or are you leaving permanently?”
I could tell they were sad when I told them the answer.
Well… then they came to deliver the carpets the other day I had a chance to host THEIR visit my home. And have one final talk. I like them a lot. The Brothers are good people.
And when the time came to say goodbye, The Brothers gave me two carpet coasters.
“These are for you as a gift from us. One for you and one for your wife. So you can always remember how we met.”
Yeah… seriously… true story.
The gift totally took me off guard. I remember a lot of things, but at the time of their presentation the circumstances surrounding our initial meetings had completely slipped my mind.
It’s amazing though. I’ve done my fair share in keeping the Pakistani carpet industry gainfully employed… but these two small, simple carpet coasters will probably be my most prized mementos of my time in Pakistan.
They certainly have one of the best stories.
