There are some things I love about China and there are some things I loath about China. As I found out today, I have a love-hate relationship with shopping. Elena, Charlie and I went to the Silk Market today, a giant complex similar to Lady's Street, filled with more silk than you could ever hope for, along with many other fabrics, clothes, trinkets, etc. As I had seen previously around Beijing, shopping is an interactive animal. You don't just go into a store and wander around, pick out what you want (or not) and then leave. Usually there is someone at the door shouting "Hello, lady!" and waving at you to come in whether you have expressed interest in what the store has to offer or not - even a glance just to see what's in there can be taken as interest. And even if you don't glance in, they will probably still call out to you, especially if you are not Chinese.
There was no exception to this at the Silk Market. As with most things in China, the maximum number of stores were crammed into a minimal amount of space, so you could conceivably find six shops in a 20-foot square area. As you walk down the cramped isles, not only to merchants call out to you in much better English than I have heard anywhere else, but they will also grab you by the arm and pull you into a store, or come and try to steal you out of another merchant's store. Once you are in the store, you are certainly not left to your own devices as far as decision making. The vendor will try to up-sell by guessing or suggesting things you might want, often as part of their invitation into the shop. For example, "Do you want silk table runners?"
Once you have decided on what you want, there is the matter of the price. Usually they will tell you a price that is completely ludicrous as far as Chinese pricing standards are concerned (you may not realize this if you have never shopped in a place where bargaining is not only practiced, but encouraged). Your first reaction should always be, "No, too much". Then they will either suggest a new price or allow you to do so. Whatever you suggest will inevitably be way too low. They will tell you they are losing money if they sell whatever it is to you for that price. Instead, you get the line, "Since you are my first customer today, I will give you this very special price..." You either agree to it or suggest another or walk away. Walking away seems to be the best way to get the price you want. Twice we have been chased after while walking away from shops, the salesperson desperately conceding to what you have offered just to make the sale. It kind of makes you feel guilty, but then you realize that even the final low price is inflated far above the price for which the vendor purchased the item.
Most of the salespeople are young women. I would say the majority of them are under 25 and a good number of them are only around 18. They have great English (and I even heard one speak Spanish), as long as it relates to sales, and are very good at what they do. It can be overwhelming and exhausting. If you stand in one place too long you will find yourself surrounded by these somewhat charming girls tugging your arm and trying their hardest to get you to buy ANYTHING. Even if you are an innocent bystander just hanging out while other people shop, they will strike up a conversation with you. They like to ask personal questions about where you are from, how you are related to the people you are with. They pay you lots of compliments on your jewelry or your ability to communicate in Chinese (Charlie and I were both declared "very clever" by one girl). It is in these situations that the cultural curiosity, even if it is mostly driven by a desire to sell something, can be fun and interesting. While we were shopping I was wearing my green commie hat and one young woman came up to me, even through she knew I wasn't going to buy anything, and taught me how to say "star" in Mandarin. It feels much better when the people who are curious about you actually approach you and want to talk and learn about you instead of just stare at you. It also gives you a change to partake in a cultural exchange and learn about the people around you.
Following the chaos of the Silk Market, we stopped into a little French restaurant for a quiet and delicious lunch, then made another stop at the Davidoff store for cigars. Our final destination before returning home was the wet market that Charlie and I visited a few days ago. This time we were in search of the ingredients for Salade Niçoise which Chef Charles was to make for dinner. Once again I was amazed at how fresh and cheap the food was. We had a fishmonger carve up a whole small tuna into steaks and probably got 5 lbs. of fish for about $12. In the states we would have been looking at upwards of $80 for the same thing. We also got a huge grocery bag full of veggies for about $9.
Finally, we made it back home and all felt like taking a trip down to the spa. If I haven't mentioned it before, there is a spa on the first floor of the building we're staying at. If you go in before 5:00 massages are half price. Elena, Charlie and I all made our way downstairs and were met with a very busy chaotic spa that had neither the rooms nor the staff for three unscheduled massages. So Charlie and I scheduled our massages for the next day and I stuck around to get a facial instead. After 90 minutes of what felt like dozens of facial cleansers, creams and toners, along with a head, shoulder and arm massage, I felt radiant! Unfortunately, the mugginess and grime of Beijing has already burrowed itself back into my pores. Oh well, it was good while it lasted.
Then there was Thursday, mine and Charlie's 4-year anniversary, marking the start of our relationship from our first date. Our day started off easy. We sat around a drank coffee for a while and then made our way over to the U.S. Embassy where Tony was waiting to give us a tour. But first we had to stop and share a jian bing for breakfast, cheating on our usual jian bing guy with the jian bing lady across the street (there were too many people waiting at his. I had never been inside any embassy before, and our visit had to be pre-arranged. We were told to enter through the south gate, which was on a street that was closed to traffic. The guard at the gate, a Chinese man in the standard pressed green uniform, knew we were coming and opened the gate as we approached, never making eye contact. It was a little creepy. Then we found the south entrance with a check-in window, where we were greeted by a young Chinese man in what looked like a standard blue U.S. State police uniform who said, "What's up?!" in almost perfect English as we approached. He looked at Charlie and said, "Hutchinson?" and then took our passports and issued our visitor badges. Then we were allowed in, where I had to surrender all of my electronics (a digital alarm clock), empty my purse and then proceed through a metal detector.
Having passed inspection, we were instructed to proceed across the adjacent courtyard and into another building with a bullet proof waiting area (actually, I think everywhere was bullet proof), where a marine directed us to the receptionist. We told her we were there to see Tony Hutchinson, so she told us to sit down and then rang someone up to arrange for our escort. At one point she asked for Charlie's name and then said, "You daddy?" to which Charlie assented. Finally, our escort arrive and lead us through what felt like a dozen doors before we arrived in the building where Tony works. Right when we walked in we felt underdressed, having to pass through what was some kind of conference where people stood around schmoozing in nice business suits. We were led to Tony's office where he treated us to tea and then showed us around the embassy, pointing out the various works of art stationed here and there. He also informed us that the building was constructed according to green standards with local materials, energy efficiency and low-impact methods. I have to say, I was really impressed by that.
Our visit to the embassy was short, and we were escorted out again, my alarm clock and our passports were returned and we headed back to the apartment for our massage appointment. We appeared to be the first people in the spa that morning and were able to negotiate 90-minute massages instead of the 60 minutes we had scheduled initially. There was also a two-hour option but that seemed like a bit much. As I would find out later, 90 minutes was too. We were shown to our room, a tiny, dimly-lit space with two massage tables, and were given our "scrubs" to change into. Unlike what I have had in the past, Chinese massage is not done naked. You either wear these loose-fitting pajamas or are under a sheet the whole time, so no lotions or oils are required. A young woman brought us tea, we changed and waited for our masseurs to come in.
After a few minutes there was a knock on the door and a very tall Chinese man and a very small Chinese woman entered. The man asked me how we would pair up so I indicated that he would be with me and the lady would be with Charlie. We were instructed to lie face down on the tables and covered from the waist down with a sheet.
Then the violence began.
I have never experienced a more painful 90 minutes in my life. About 10 minutes into the massage I was wishing I had only asked for an hour, or maybe half an hour. But noooo, I had to have the long one. I have had several professional massages in the States and in Europe and have never experienced anything like this. My main complaint is that they usually aren't hard enough. I once had a "deep tissue" massage that was one of the gentlest I ever experienced. Chinese massage is radically different and probably actually loosens those knots in your shoulders that never seem to go away. They take their stiff thumbs and jam them between your vertebrae, grind their elbows into your larger muscles, and shake and twist your limbs to stretch and further loosen the muscles. At one point, my masseur climbed onto the table, stood on the back of my thighs with his knees, and pulled my arms back behind me, lifting my entire upper body off of the table and into an intense yogic cobra pose... and that was my favorite part. Every time he would work a muscle group on one side of my body, I would dread the moment that he moved to the other side, knowing that I would have to endure the prodding all over again. I tried my hardest to just breathe through it, and I could hear Charlie doing the same (he later commented that he never thought that someone so small could cause so much pain).
After about 2/3 of the way through, what seemed like an eternity, we were turned over onto our backs and the intensity lessened considerably. They massaged our faces, necks, arms and legs. Just as we were starting to really relax they suddenly said, "Okay, finished," thanked us and left. We reluctantly got off of the tables, moaning and groaning, feeling thoroughly battered and bruised, dressed and made our way to the front desk. We paid a measly $35 for an hour and a half of torture for two and then tottered out the door and down the stairs, exhausted and loopy.
We had lunch at the restaurant in the building, too relaxed, despite the hour of anguish we had each experienced, to venture out further in search of food. We had a spicy lunch of papaya salad, shrimp and tofu and then went out shopping for souvenirs, knowing that if we sat down to relax for more than a few minutes we would be asleep.
Later that evening we got all gussied up to go to the opening of the Beijing Modern Dance Festival. The performance we saw was called Standing Before Darkness and was performed by BeijingDance / LDTX and choreographed by Sang Jijia. The dancing was excellent, but I found the music unbearable and even painful at times, and was so distracted by the discomfort that this work produced in me that I could not really understand what it was about. Many people walked out.
A reception was held after the show at a restaurant called Capital M, an upscale place near Tienanmen Square overlooking a brightly lit plaza with multi-colored fountains. Ok, fine you can have a picture or two:
The drinks were free-flowing and the waitstaff brought around exquisite little hors d'oeuvres like gazpacho, gravalax on crostini, creamy shrimp tartlets, fried risotto balls (my favorite!), pakoras and pea soup. We were glad that they served us a nice variety of foods because we were really tempted to blow a couple hundred dollars and just have dinner there. Thank Buddha for freebies.
Happy anniversary to us!
The end.
No comments:
Post a Comment
If you comment using the "Anonymous" option, please leave your name so I know who you are!