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We often have vendors coming to our door in
Bunda with tomatoes, onions, greens, okra, or sometimes whole dead fish. We've seen door-to-door bra salesmen, a
backpack salesman with an unbelievable number of bags hanging from him, guys
with big racks on their bikes to display their wares of gourds, loofah sponges,
little brooms, or even rows of clothes on hangers.
There are some guys at certain intersections
in Lilongwe selling the kind of posters you'd expect to see in a classroom:
maps of the world, parts of the body labeled in English, labeled pictures of
fruits and vegetables. We are guessing
some charitable group was appalled at the lack of supplies in public schools
here and tried to help out, and this is what became of
their donations. At other places along roads and sidewalks in town you can buy everything from laundry soap to roasted peanuts to passports from the south-central African country of your choice.
The kids' favorite vendors to
spot are the guys who stand beside the roads holding up puppies or kittens for
sale. It always looks to us like the
kitten sellers must go home with pretty scratched-up arms at the end of the
day!

When we buy from vendors we are often a bit suspicious that we are
getting the mzungu (white person) price.
Sometimes we're more than a bit suspicious. Before the rainy season started we were
warned that tomatoes would become scarcer and more expensive once the rain
started, so I told Emily, who washes for us, that I'd like to buy a lot of
tomatoes to put in the freezer. She said
she would find some. When she came with
a HUGE load of tomatoes on her head, she told me about buying them: The vendor said 2000 kwacha, then asked Emily
why she was buying so many tomatoes.
Emily told her, and the vendor immediately said, "Oh, for them it
will cost 2800 kwacha." Emily
became very indignant retelling this story; she told the vendor "2000
kwacha is what you said first, take it or leave it." So the price was 2000 kwacha in the end, but it
confirmed what we already suspected about our "special treatment" in
the informal economy.

Eric:
In their eagerness to sell me their shoes, the vendors were willing to be very
approximate about size. I told them I needed size 12 shoes, but at least half
of the shoes they brought were size 11. One of the guys would hand me a shoe,
I'd look at it and say "this is size 11, not 12", and they would
proceed to remove the insole and say "now it will fit you well". I
tried on several pairs of shoes that would have been painful to run in, but
each vendor in turn insisted that that shoe must fit me.
He finally found some that worked
but had very little success in the bargaining stage. (Even having seen a thrift-store price tag on
$9.95 in one of the shoes, he ended up paying way more than 5 times that). One of our friends asked outright what he'd
paid and was shocked - it was probably four or five times what a Malawian would
have gotten them for. This friend said
vendors are pretty aggressive even toward Malawians; it's not just us. He talked about getting onto minibuses and
having drivers of other buses shouting at him: "No, get on this one! This one is better! This one is faster! This one is leaving right now!"
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