Street Vendor Sweet Talk

I was in my car crawling along in the inevitable traffic jam on William Nicol, which meant that there were a bunch of inevitable street vendors hawking their wares. One of them popped up in front of my car, pointed to my license plate with a look of concern, then signaled to open my window. Next thing I knew I was the proud owner of 2 cowboy hats. Read more to see how that happened.

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Saving Face – the African Way

I’ve found that whenever I ask for something, in a store, for instance, and they have no idea what I’m talking about, instead of admitting that they don’t know, they will pretend to look for it, and then apologetically inform me that they are sold out. “I’m sorry Ma’m, we don’t have ... 

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