Dowry piece

I returned to a shop today to look at more jewelry and after careful consideration I decided to buy an amber ring for myself and earings for Jessie. I was then convinced to buy earings for my mom. I had a very nice shopping experience as the vendor was very patient and I came to like him and even trust him a bit. He didn't try to touch me like some vendors did in the Grand Bazar. Being that I trusted him, I agreed to go upstairs with him to see his carpet "exhibition."

I thought this would be safe, being that I have no place to live and no interest in owning a carpet. It was interesting learning about the progression of the Turkish style of carpet and also seeing the similarities in motif between the Turks and the Native Americans. But, I didn't come there for a carpet and the only one that I liked was 600-some Turkish lira. I started making my appologies to set the stage for my departure and the salesman kept explaining that many people don't come to Turkey for a carpet, but 400-some US dollars is a bargain, and he showed me the embrodery and craftswomanship that went into the making of the beautiful dowry piece that was the one carpet that caught I eye.

And soon, I knew that I was going home with that carpet. I was stunned sitting there, drinking my tea, to know that I would be spending more than one week's unemployment paycheck on a rug. Seriously, a rug. I've never wanted to own a rug. But, my dowry piece (traditionally, girls made these rugs for their dowry and to snag a worthy mate) was beautiful... So much more than just a rug. A piece of art. But, I've never aspired to own art. Maybe someday... but I can't afford such luxuries now! We talked about all of this, Ibrahim and I. And, he made the point that while money is coming out of one pocket, money is going into the other. He pointed out other carpets and told me their prices to illustrate how much harder it would be for me to agree to take home a carpet if I had fallen for one of the larger pieces instead.

But almost from the start, I knew that I was going to buy this carpet. How ridiculous! When I told Ibrahim it was ridiculous, he wasn't impressed. What is life if not ridiculous, he asked. I couldn't argue with any of his rationals for whyI should buy the carpet, but that wasn't the point because I was going to buy the carpet. After I'd had about a half hour to process this fact and come to terms with the departure of about $400 from my bank account, I agreed and we shook hands.

I left with a carpet (and the fear that Ibrahim is going to call me the next time he is in Virginia, where he has a store) and a mild sense of shock or disbelief. Buying a carpet left me feeling as though I've lost my virginity again: at a certain point it became clear that it was inevitable, though I wasn't entirely sure I was ready. Afterwards, there was a story to tell and, in this case, definitely something to show for it.