Omar

When we were in Marrakesh, Yun wanted to buy some rugs. She found out about a place that was a cooperative. It was run by a guy named Omar. He spoke just about every language in the world. He constantly praised us. He told Yun how beautiful her eyes were over and over. He did everything in such a funny way. We were always hysterical laughing with the guy. He was priceless and he knew it. He memorized every detail about each rug, which Berber family in the mountains had made which rug. Each one was hand made and took a few months. He told us what each symbol meant. It was his standard speil but it was no less genius each time he spoke. He would make a brilliant actor. He sold us three rugs and we were happy to do business with him. Yun bartered away and I stayed out of it because I am a push over. Omar loved every second. The most amazing thing was when Yun and I arrived home a few days later, the rugs were already at our apartment. For such a backwards country, they sure do know about shipping. DHL.