There is simple buying and then there are those trips where the act of shopping becomes woven into a greater adventure. Generally, the more exotic the location, the more frequently such adventures occur. This episode came to us courtesy of the Pearl Market, Beijing.
It was April 2001 and we were in Beijing with a tour group. There was a free morning which allowed the more adventurous amongst us to plot their own itineraries. The word from the informed ladies in the group was that Sharon’s Store was a must visit, with amazing deals on pearl and onyx jewelry. It was, and still is, located in the Pearl Market building and, importantly for me, there was also a flea market. Thus, my wife could shop for jewelry and I could hunt for a meat cleaver or two.
We set out from the hotel soon after 8 a.m., the concierge having instructed the cab driver of our destination. The best way that I can describe a cab ride through Beijing is by reference to The Night Bus from “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.” (1) The Beijing Cab, at speed, does indeed seem to shrink to navigate impossibly narrow spaces with literally millimeters of clearance. Therefore, settling into the front seat, I automatically reached for the seat belt. There was a shoulder strap that, with some difficulty, slowly uncoiled from its recess. It was obviously little used. I dug around and found the clip beside the seat and clicked in. There was no lap belt.
About 15 slightly terrifying minutes later, we were deposited outside the Pearl Market. Our noses and the general coming and goings indicated that there was still an active fish market on the ground floor. My wife looked at me and said, “What have you got all over your shirt?” I was wearing a fresh, white, button-down oxford, comfortable and utilitarian. Across the right shoulder, collar and diagonally down across my chest was a dusty, buff-colored stain. Dust storms from the Gobi Desert frequently blow into Beijing, and via the rarely-used seat belt, too much of that fine dust now soiled my shirt. We cleaned it up as best we could. I headed to the flea market, she to Sharon’s. We agreed, “You stay in Sharon’s till I come and find you. Please don’t leave there without me.”
The flea market was like flea markets everywhere, though full of Chinese inventory. Now, how to locate some meat cleavers? Since I neither speak nor understand Chinese, I had roughly sketched the outline of a meat cleaver and a chef’s knife on a piece of paper. I approached a friendly-looking vendor, smiled and said Hello, “Ni hao,” with a respectful, slow nod of my head. The greeting was reciprocated. Having quickly exhausted my Chinese vocabulary, I then showed him my sketches and with the facial and body gestures of an untrained mime, tried to ask where I could find such. I was given rapid verbal directions which I could not decipher, plus vigorous arm and hand signals indicating the general direction to follow. Repeating this procedure at intervals, by a process of iteration, I homed in on a vendor who did indeed sell knives and cleavers. I looked through his selection and chose a chef’s knife, plus a light and a heavy-duty cleaver. All of them were stainless steel, full tang with brass handles. The heaviest has three pictograms on the handle. A Chinese work colleague of mine later translated those as, “bone cutting knife.” I bargained a little on the price but I did not have much of an incentive. For all three combined I paid under US$10.00.
I left that stall very happy. I had accomplished my goal; navigated the Pearl Market in Beijing and scored some kitchen sharpware at a great price. I now wandered around the stalls at leisure, eyeing the merchandize with a potential for purchase. One item caught my eye. It was a 1960s wind-up alarm clock, the sort with two metal bells on the top that rings loud enough to wake the proverbially departed. Painted on the clock face was a picture of a smiling Chairman Mao. Best of all, his movable right forearm was articulated at the elbow to the clock mechanism and waved back and forth once a second. (See 2 for a similar design.) It was total kitsch; would be a great conversation starter and I was tempted to buy it for only $4 - $5. I prevaricated and then decided not to purchase. I still somewhat regret that decision.
I located the elevator and rode up to Sharon’s floor. The level of décor here was several leagues more lavish than the flea market. I headed into the store and was instantly intercepted by a hostess.
Caught slightly off-guard by her approach, I mumbled, “I’m looking for my wife.” I scanned around. “There she is, over there, the lady in the blue top.”
“Ah. You with Mary. Come have free beer.”
Whoa! Flashing warning lights and multiple alarm bells instantly went off in my head.
Let’s take a moment to digest those seven words. The hostess had previously ascertained and now remembered my wife’s first name. The organization for whom I worked gave us mandatory foreign travel safety training every year. Therefore, I knew to assume that Chinese hotel rooms used by foreigners would have constant video and sound monitoring, and that the contents of the in-room safety deposit boxes would be checked daily by state security staff when you were out. In that context, standing there at the opulent entrance to Sharon’s, a commercial establishment, I could still feel the long arm of state security despite the sweetly-smiling face greeting me.
Then there was the issue of free beer at 09:40 a.m. in a comfortable lounge area. “Yes,” I thought, “I understand what you are doing. What the heck, I’m not driving, I’m not the one doing the buying, I’ll have just one. But stay alert!” I checked in with my wife and then retired to the lounge to chat with the other forlorn husbands and significant others. My mind entered “airplane mode” to help pass the time.
My memories of the next couple of hours are mostly lost. I checked in on Mary occasionally and despite the temptation, I only had two beers all morning. I do know that when we left there around lunchtime, my backpack and her purse were stuffed full of pearl and onyx necklaces, pendants, earrings and bracelets. About $500 of that was paid for and used by her business. The remaining $250 worth of jewelry was for her personal adornment. It suits her very well.
Oh, those two free beers - they were the most expensive I’ve ever had.
1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FArmRa092H0
2. https://insendai.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/chinastuff1.jpg