When it comes to haggling, there is a steep learning curve. Drew and I headed to the Silk Market to do some shopping. This isn’t just any kind of shopping though. The Silk Market is one of the markets tourists go to in order to score cheap souvenirs and designer knock-offs. It is six stories of wall to wall vendors selling the same shoes, clothes, tea sets, DVDs, watches, luggage, bags, and electronics, and more.
I had read up on haggling, particularly market haggling, so I considered myself prepared and forewarned about what would transpire. I knew not to haggle unless I truly intended to buy. I knew that vendors would call out to me, luring me to purchase their shirts or bags or watches. I was aware that vendors might follow me, trying to entice me with whatever they were selling. I knew that fast talking sales girls would simultaneously pressure me to buy and flatter me so that I would purchase their clothes. More importantly, I knew that this would all happen so fast that before I knew it, I’d be handing over my cash. Everything that I expected to happen happened, including the part about handing over my cash so quickly that I didn’t know what was going on.
I’m getting ahead of myself, let me back up. Upon realizing that we didn’t pick up any souvenirs (except for the chopsticks from Wal-Mart), Drew and I decided to remedy this with a trip to the market. It seemed like a good idea, and like it would be a good touristy experience (it turned out to be both). The Silk Market was packed with tourists, but not so packed that we couldn’t stroll up and down the aisles relatively comfortably. On the first floor, we passed vendor after vendor selling t-shirts, outerwear, skirts, dresses, dress pants, suits, and much more. I spied a cute lightweight peacoat and made the mistake of asking the price. Then I made the mistake of asking to try it on. Apparently I did this out of order, and I guess it was in poor form to ask about the price if I wasn’t sure if I was going to buy. The vendor actually chased us away, waving good bye.
Drew and I had a Silk Market game plan: we would stick to our shopping list unless we stumbled across a deal that was nearly too good to be true. On my list was a souvenir for a friend, a skirt, a t-shirt with English words that made no sense, a tea set, and an opera mask decoration for my wall. On Drew’s list was any sort of interesting electronic gadget. Here’s the spoiler: we stuck to the list.
You know how one-size-fits-all in the U.S. really just means extra large? I mean, it’s not really one-size-fits-all or one-size-fits-most. It’s one-size-fits extra large. Well, in China, one-size-fits-all means small. I stopped at a vendor to take a closer look at some skirts. They had elastic waists, but they looked to small for me. I held one up, and sure enough, it was too small. I’m sure this was obvious, but the sales girl was relentless, telling me that it fit and that it was a beautiful color on me. This time, I didn’t make the mistake of inquiring about the price and I just walked away.
As we were walking through the market, Drew got a little irritated with all the aggressive sales vendors. Unexpectedly, I did not, but when I thought about the reason, I wasn’t surprised. Because I am Asian and Drew is white, most of the vendors ignored me as I passed by. And I just ignored anyone who did call out to me. Drew, however, is nicer than me. As he passed through, he would respond saying “no, thank you” or “I’m fine” or “I’m doing well” and so on. I can see why it was irritating; I’d be overwhelmed too if I paused to respond to everyone.
I gave up on finding a skirt or funny t-shirt for myself (even though I found a cool one that said ‘winter’ and then had a very green tree), so I moved on to the souvenir for my friend. I found a shirt that made me laugh out loud, so I decided to get it. And this is the part of the story where I handed my cash over so fast that I don’t know what happened. I asked the sales girl how much for the shirt. She punched a number on the calculator (this is how we communicate), which was 195Y ($30). I had decided that I wouldn’t spend more than $10 on the shirt, which was about 65Y. The problem is that I immediately bargained for this number. Then she lowered her price to 170Y, then I met her halfway, then she lowered her price (not meeting me halfway, by the way), and then before I knew it, I was handing over 100Y (about $15). After the transaction was complete, she tried to sell me another shirt, which I don’t blame her for, seeing as how I’d just foolishly overpaid for the first one. I knew I had been taken for a ride and I had to get out of there-quick.
Whewwww. Drew and I perused the other floors, this time looking at tea sets and opera masks. We decided that the key to being able to browse peacefully is to refrain from asking questions and refrain from touching anything. As soon as you appear interested, that’s when vendors pounce on their prey. We found a tea set and a mask that we decided we liked, so we took a break to talk about how much we’d be willing to pay. This seemed like a good strategy, and it was. We weighed the pros and cons of both purchases, and in the end, we decided not to get a tea set, but I still wanted the mask. And besides, I decided that the best way to make myself feel better about severely overpaying for a shirt and getting played by a vendor was to buy something else. Makes sense, right?
We went back to the mask, but this time we found these little condiment dishes (this was not an impulse buy; we had talked about these on a different day). We picked out six and then went to haggle. The vendor told us 20Y (a little over $3) for each. Drew asked me how much I thought they were worth. I said 1Y (about 15 cents ) each. I knew this was ridiculously low, but I wasn’t going to make the same haggling mistake twice. I wasn’t going to start out with my maximum price. This time I would start ridiculously low and then very slowly increase my price. The vendor dropped down to 10Y, and then I said 3. She kept shaking her head at me, telling me that these dishes were porcelain. She dropped down to 9, and then Drew said 6. We ended up paying 40Y (a little over $6) for all 6. Next, I tried to haggle for the mask. The vendor typed 250 on the calculator. (On a sidenote, after the t-shirt haggling, Drew passed along some advice, telling me that his friend’s mom starts off by bargaining for 10% of the price she is first quoted. Granted, this would have been useful before I bought the t-shirt, but oh well, better late than never.) I shook my head and typed in 15. (I had intended to type in 25, but for some reason, I went even ridiculously lower- I was out for haggling redemption.) The vendor gave an Oscar-worthy performance (I read that this would happen), feigning shock and shaking her head, telling me that I’m crazy (hey, I’ve been called worse). She told me that the mask was handmade and hand painted. She lowered her price, and I went up to 30. She shook her head, so I walked away. I had read that when you walk away, you will always be called back and offered a lower price. Well, that didn’t happen, and she let me leave.
It wasn’t a problem, because I found another mask from a different vendor. Before he quoted me a price, Drew told him that we had just walked away from a vendor whose price was too high- 250Y. So this vendor quoted me 200Y (about $30). I shook my head and punched in 20. Like I expected, he feigned shock and told me the mask was handmade and hand painted. He lowered his price, and I went up to 25 (no more of that meeting halfway bullshit). And so we went back and forth, just like that. He said that I’d never get it for a two-digit price. At some point, I walked away, and he called me back. When I punched in 55, he asked if I meant 55 in American money or Chinese money. That’s a big difference, and I’m sure this is how some people get screwed. I said Chinese money, of course. During this whole process, the vendor 1) assumed that Drew is paying, and 2) assumed that Drew is rich. He even says so, telling Drew that he has lots of money and can afford to pay. Apparently, foreign equals rich. Anyway, I had already decided that I will not pay more than 65Y (about $10) for the mask. The vendor finally drops his price to two-digits: 98. I slowly inch up, and finally we agree on 70. Sweet, sweet victory! Check it out:
I love it, I really do. Drew has a mask from Honduras, and I have one from Chile. This will be a fabulous addition to our collection. It was a good day at the market and I feel good about our loot. We spent 210Y (about $32) and got a mask, shirt, and condiment dishes. Not a bad day, and an unforgettable and fun experience. Turns out that haggling isn’t an annoyance, it’s part of the fun. Sometimes I forgot that I was actually trying to buy something. Oh, and by the way, I paid for the mask.
Chris with a 'K' 