I was mirroring my feet from a reflection of an old glass in the wooden door. Dust was dancing in the sun light. I would have been roasted without my harem style, breathable trousers, since my neck was already running sweat. Temperature was up in plus forty, very hot for a girl from Santa Claus country.

“You get a bag if you buy two sandal. Only 200 shekel!” camel leather seller was trying his best. “I only need one pair of sandals, but the bag is nice.” I said looking at my own reflection in the glass. I had been bargaining in the sandal shop for a while already and mirrored several different sandal types. I stepped down stony stairs of the shop into the bright sun of the morning. Heath was bouncing back from the lime stones the shops were build of. I stepped across the alley to a small café on the other side. “Well, did you choose and how much he is asking now?” was my grandmother asking. “Did you get the price down to 80 shekels yet?” she was seated under the lazy fans in the only table of the café drinking espresso with the owner from tiny crystal cups. I showed her the flip-flop style sandal in my other foot and the more traditional Bedouin sandal in my other foot.

Hasheem created a critical look in his eyes and said the Bedouin sandal was too big for me. He said I could fit two fingers underneath and it will cause blisters. Hasheem had been selling camel leather sandals himself before buying the café. He said all sandals are produced in the same factory with the same sizes and models, for cheap, and sold to tourists for five times bigger price. “Do not pay any more than 80 shekel. There is already commission for the seller included!” Hasheem was rolling a cigarette on top of his big tummy and then he lit the hanging ends of the plant with his matches and blew air towards the fans. Smoke danced around the café together with the dust in the sun above granny’s little table when Hasheem told us about his times as a sandal seller. Every first customer of the day brings luck. Every bazaar shop owner in Via Dolorosa, in the old city of Jerusalem, is trying to sell something before mid day and bargaining is allowed. Every morning Hasheem had taken risks causing financial loss just to get the first item of the day sold. After that would afternoon sales be guaranteed, although it always wasn’t.

In Hasheem’s sandal selling times the tourism in Jerusalem had been blooming and Via Dolorosa had been full of tourists, buying the best item of export, the leather of camel. In the early 1990’s the business had been good until the fear of war scared potential buyers away. Many bazaars were closed and Israel got empty of tourists. Shop sellers and owners returned to work in the country side and factories or sold their shops and started working for others. I took a long look at Hasheem’s sweaty fingers that had gone yellow from cigarettes and smoke. I decided to pay 200 shekels of the sandals, with or without the bag.