How to Haggle Like a Pro … and the Omani Designer Gautier and Kim Kardashian Ripped Off

On the southeast corner of the Arabian Peninsula lies an oasis of calm inside the storm of the Middle East: Oman. Named in almost every publication’s 2015 next big destinations list, and despite being perched precariously between Saudi Arabia and Yemen, the sultanate is peaceful, religiously tolerant, and welcoming.

Of course I had to go check it out for “A Broad Abroad.”

I wasn’t disappointed.

Welcome to Oman: The 2015 'It' Destination

The waterfront in Muscat. (Photo: Thinkstock)

Small towns dot the country that are straight out of “The Arabian Nights.” Sinbad the sailor was from here, as well as the famed Queen of Sheba — who is rumored to have once had ownership of the Ark of the Covenant. The whole country is like a fairy tale come to life, with hidden oases around every corner. But unlike the leaders of the other Westerner-friendly country on the peninsula — Dubai — Oman’s sultan refused to tear down historical buildings and instead, upon taking power in the 1980s, focused on infrastructure (there are paved roads crisscrossing the land that are so free of potholes my cameraman kept exclaiming, “What is this? Why don’t we have roads like this?”). All new buildings are done to fit in seamlessly with historical structures.

The Grand Mosque in Muscat, Oman. (Photo: Thinkstock)

The tallest building in the country, in the capital, Muscat, is only 17 stories high, and although there are modern conveniences, outside of Muscat life goes on much as it has for more than 1,000 years.

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Forget the Diamonds, In the Far East It’s All About Jade for Christmas!

I’ve never really thought much about jade. Perhaps it’s because in New York (where I currently reside) there are thousands of jade bracelets for sale on almost every street corner for around $5. That, and I’m not really a bracelet girl.

But I was schooled hard in Mandalay, Myanmar, where I hit the world-famous jade market. Deals for the finest jade have been haggled there for hundreds of years.

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Guate-Hollah! Part Tres: The Market at Chichicastenango

I love a death doll

I love a death doll

Chichi is cool for so many reasons – chief amongst which is: it has the largest indigenous market in Central America. Clearly, I had to go. And I was not disappointed. Mayans, for miles around, come in every Thursday and Sunday to sell intricately sewn textiles, death masks, chickens, dolls, sweaters, chotchkes, you name it, all at the foot of the 400-year old church of Santo Tomás. The church is built atop a Pre-Columbian temple platform, and K’iche’ Maya priests still use the church for their rituals, burning incense and candles and in really special cases, they burn a chicken for the gods. It’s kind of amazing – especially as I’d assumed all the Mayans died out years ago. I was wrong. Thank God. [Ed note: Mayan rituals are a lot like voodoo rituals – involving chickens, blood, candles, booze, cocaine, leaves and fire. I think it must be a universal fact that pluralist gods liked to party. A lot]. There was also a sick restaurant area in the middle of the market which served the best fried chicken I’ve ever had, hands down. Don’t tell Aunt Dee I said that. She’ll be pissed.

After the jump: The market from heaven:

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How To (Accidentally) Look Like A Hooker In Iraq

Spot the problems...

Spot the problems…

Fun fact: there are three major problems with this photo – and two minor ones (which you can’t see). So there I was, in Baghdad, feeling all sorts of appropriately dressed in my Jil Sander for Uniqlo dress. I mean, come one – look at it. It’s black, long, and when I saw it on the rack I immediately thought, “Oooooh, perfect for Iraq!” and “Burkha chic has come to the States, who knew?” It’s not like I was gonna buy it for a hot NYC summer except to possibly throw it over my head in the morning to walk the dog. After all, it was semi shapeless and although it was really comfy and made of thin (yet not see through) cotton, it made me look like I could be pregnant. Which, if I was pregnant, that’d be okay. BUT I’M NOT.

So, I thought yeah – Iraq. Awesome. It’s roomy, will breathe, and adheres to strict Muslim dictates, right? Wrong.

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The Stuff That Got Away [Or, Things I Should’ve Bought When I’d Had The Chance]

I'm a haggler, not a fighter...

I’m a haggler, not a fighter…

I’m not really a hoarder, I swear. But I do like to buy things that remind me of my trips. And I usually do well – not too much, not too little. But  then there’s the stuff that got away. There’s not many things that I regret not purchasing, but there are a few items that I’ve passed up that I still think about. Years later, like some dude who asked me out in my 20’s and I said no and now realize I probably should’ve given him a shot. How effed up is that? Anyhoo – I present the list:

1. The Tuareg ear cuffs. These things are all the rage right now (except they are knock offs being sold by designer labels for hundreds). And I could’ve had them first. UGH. There I was in TImbuktu, haggling my butt off and I just got tired and walked away. I saw a few more cuffs over the next few days, but thought, “I’ll come back.” And then the Civil War started and I had to leave. (Story on that later). It now KILLS me to see them on another woman’s ear. BUT – the woman below is selling hers on Etsy. I suggest you order a pair.

Very Mad Max… How it looks on whitey

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Brazil: Home Of The Worst [read: Best] Trinkets Ever.

I can't get enough of this - the reverse Romulus and Remus painting. This little guy went on to build the wolf version of Rome.

I can’t get enough of this – the reverse Romulus and Remus painting I found in Morretes, Brazil. This little guy (on the left) went on to build the wolf version of Rome.

Everyone knows I love a good market. I even pack collapsible bags on my trips for countries [Laos, Vietnam, Iraq, Guatemala] that have really good markets where I can pick up things to either decorate my apartment or give out as gifts. So, it was with high hopes that I went to Brazil – specifically Iguazu, Morretes and Curitiba.

I had visions of the indigenous market at Chichicastanenga in Guatemala or the night market in Luang Prabang, Laos… I was so wrong. So, so very wrong.

While I didn’t end up buying anything, I did photograph the wares on offer for your viewing pleasure.

Side note: the only reason I didn’t buy every single one of these mementos is because I live in a tiny Soho apartment. In my fantasy world, I have an apartment that is so big I have an entire room dedicated to awesomely bad art. Until then, I only have the pictures. Sad face.

Behold, some awesomely bad art/weird tchotchkes and so much more (including a wooden dildo) after the jump :

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Meet Penny: The Hedgehog Snatched From the Bowels Of the Bamako Death Market

Penny, the hedgehog I saved from the Death Market

Penny, the hedgehog snatched from the bowels of the Bamako Death Market

Fun fact: People in the West African country of Mali will say, “The country is 80 percent Muslim, 20 percent Christian but 100 percent Animist.” Which means that everyone carries amulets, “passports” (leather pouches) and rings that are all full of magical potions created by a witch doctor… and that are made with all sorts of animals parts. Which also explains why Mali has almost no wildlife to mention, as every animal has been hunted to the point of extinction (Which is awful, except for the times you are forced to camp on the side of the Niger River in No Man’s Land and have to get up to pee at night. The absence of crocodiles comes in handy then, and only then). The dearth of crocodiles in Bamako is even more ironic as “Bamako” is taken from a Bambara word meaning “Crocodile River”… not so much anymore, just saying.

A stall in the Death Market

A stall in the Death Market

The main Witchdoctor (aka Death) Market is in the capital, Bamako, where you can find every animal that roam(ed) the country in a state of decay. There are hippos, hyenas, snakes, birds, dogs, lions… and hedgehogs. All waiting to be ground up into powder, blessed and put into a pouch so the wearer can traverse the Sahara or the Niger safely. For $2 you can videotape the stalls and take pictures – all while trying not to gag on the smell which is… potent, to say the least.

So there I was, in the Middle of the Death Market, when a vendor pointed out a ball of bristles. It was a tiny hedgehog-y ball of life in a sea of death. It freaked me out – I mean come on, can you imagine being stuck in a pile of rotting corpses just waiting for your turn? UGH. So I started haggling and walked away with Penny, the hedgehog, who was a little expensive, but how often can you save a life for $20?

The full story, WITH VIDEO of the rescue and release, after the jump!

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Deep Thoughts for People Visiting New York City

We have so much in common – I heart NY too!

Oh, tourists. I heart you. No, really! The way you walk hand in hand in hand, side by side by side down every sidewalk… or the way your money belt bulges from the waist of your elasticized pants… or the look of fear that enters your eyes when you realize you have to ask a local for directions. You make me giggle. And for that, I salute you!

I also would like to make your trip to NYC a little easier and pleasant. As a resident of Soho, which is overrun daily by hordes of people coming to see the “real” New York through the windows of Prada, H&M and Uniqlo, I offer you a guide… not on where to stay or what to do – but on How To Act. It’s a simple list of things that will help you fit in, or at least not annoy the locals to the point of tears. And so we begin:

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