Eric's Beijing Diary

Barter. It's a skill I definitely have not mastered. I really am not comfortable with this, and before I set out this summer, I thought perhaps it was one of those things I could bypass. I don't think I am going to be able to get by this one. There are several reasons for this, but the main one is that those who barter start from the assumption that foreigners are rich and more than willing to pay inflated prices. When I got off the cruise ship in Chongqing this summer, I was met by three men who immediately picked up my luggage and started carrying it for me. I had been told by the folks on the ship that there was a taxi that went directly to the bus stop. These guys pretended to be taxi drivers, but they weren't. Instead of taking me to a taxi, they walked me up a series of steps and down a street which led directly to the bus station. Then they stated a price that was considerably more than what a taxi would have charged me. Now, perhaps I shouldn't complain, because most foreigners probably would not have a problem with it--after all, they did carry my luggage all the way, and took me directly to the window I needed. But it was a hustle, and I don't like being hustled. I needed to catch my bus, so I just paid them, but as I was sitting on the bus going to Chengdu, I began to think that perhaps I should have taken a different approach. I had been focusing on the fact that the reason I was hoodwinked was because my language skill is limited, but, although that is probably true, I decided that I would encounter situations like this again, and I should learn how to deal with them. I didn't have long to wait.

Dali and Lijiang are both tourist cities, but Dali is the one where the street side cobblers really went after me. I had to hand it to them--they were pretty aggressive businessmen, and they were excellent craftsmen. Anyway, this street cobbler started pointing to my old tennis shoes and motioning to me to come over to where his equipment was set up. I was actually amused that anyone would think there was a way to fix an old pair of tennis shoes, so I asked him how much it would cost. He held up four fingers, and told me it would be four kuai. I thought that was a pretty low price, so I let him start working. Pretty soon he started noticing more and more things wrong with my shoes, and also started criticizing my backpack. Well, before I knew it, he had put a bunch of patches on my shoes, and rebuilt the strap on my backpack. He told me that I owed him 150 yuan. I refused to pay it, and offered him 20. I realized my mistake then. When he started doing additional things, I should have asked him directly how much each additional thing would cost. Well I was determined to figure out how to do this, so I held firm. We finally settled on a price of 50 kuai, which was a third of what he wanted, but a whole lot more than he had originally quoted me. Fifty RMB really is pretty good money for a street cobbler to be making in China for one job, but in US terms, it comes to about six dollars--three for the backpack and three for the tennis shoes. I guess I will have to call it a good deal. He sowed new rubber heels on my Converse All Stars.

A couple of weeks ago, I was planning to have a party in my apartment, and I had gone with Chanel to the Wudaoko market to buy some dishes, because I was a little short. She looked at one place, and found some dishes. I told her that this was a barter market, so she tried to get a discount. The lady told her very bluntly that she did not give discounts to foreigners. Chanel relayed this information to me. She told me that because foreigners make more money, they are expected to pay more. After finishing at that booth, we started home and realized that we needed some more things. So I told Chanel to go to another booth, and I stayed back where nobody could see me. The lady Chanel talked to quoted her a price which was quite a bit lower than the other place. At this point, Chanel became upset, because she realized that she had been cheated by the first merchant. She wanted to go back to the original place and try to get some money back. I was dubious about this, but I thought it might be interesting to watch, so I told her to go ahead. Needles to say, the original merchant didn't budge. Too late smart. At this point, Chanel said that we needed to talk to the manager of the market. I knew nothing would come of this, but, again, I was curious, so I followed obediently. I watched as she told the manager that the second merchant sold her exactly the same dishes as the first merchant for a much lower price. Since this was a barter market, I knew her complaint would come to nothing--once a merchant and customer have agreed on a price, the deal is over. But I was amused by his answer. He told her that the two items probably looked alike on the outside, but were of very different quality. Oh well. You live and learn.