It always surprised me how rapidly these exchanges could deteriorate. Each new offer by Hassan would be countered with a stiff rebuff. The vocal flurry—interspersed with calls to God, pleas of poverty, accusations of being swindled or swearing on ancestors’ graves—moved to a rhythmic beat. Each comment escalated the volume. Finally, before they breached all decency or collapsed in exhaustion, the bout would be declared a draw and, dignity restored, the deal was struck. Hassan would take our newly bought eggplants, tomatoes and plucked chickens and hand me a bag of oranges and pomegranates to
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