Related stories

China Business Summit Held in Beijing One Night in Beijing, Luxury in China Overdrive in Oriental Manhattan: Business Booms in Beijing's CBD From Children in Beijing t o Children in Sichuan Economic Growth Continues in Beijing's Rural Areas

Bargaining in Beijing: A Hard Lesson Learned

The first time I was exposed to the world of bargaining was at the Silk Street Market. Fresh from the United States and beginning my first semester of Chinese language and cultural studies in Beijing, my teacher encouraged me to check out Silk Street Market to test my bargaining skills.

I could hardly believe that with the US dollar exchange rate it was worth arguing over a few dollars for a fake name-brand shirt, but after a full day of visiting major tourist sites, I thought a little light shopping would be a nice way to relax.

Boy was I wrong. When I got to Silk Street Market, it was apparent that a laid-back shopping experience just wasn’t attainable. I was shocked as dozens of store clerks grabbed at my sleeves, pulling me into their stands, which contained shoes, bags and clothing from across China.

After meandering up and down the aisles, I decided to buy a pair of jeans. When I asked how much they were, the answer I got made me gasp: 1,200 yuan, almost US$160. I handed the jeans back, somewhat offended that the shopkeeper thought I would pay such an exorbitant sum.  Recalling the many chapters on bargaining from my Chinese classes in the States, I said in broken Chinese that the price was too high. The shopkeeper responded that my Chinese was very good, and since it was so good, he would give me a special, cheaper price. I was flattered that he complimented my mediocre Mandarin, even though I knew there was much to be desired.

Confident in the sincerity of his praise, I asked for a better price. He typed 800 on the calculator he now held; still ridiculously high. His reasoning for such a price was that these jeans were imported from Italy. Considering this a blatant lie, I decided it was time to walk away. I did so uneasily. The shopkeeper came at me with the calculator which now read 500: still too high. I told him 200. He said 450. I said 250. He said 330. I said 275. This continued until I said 350, which he reluctantly agreed to. I handed him some crisp, recently exchanged bills and walked away with my new pair of jeans, proud of my bargaining expertise.

It wasn’t until I returned to the hotel to show off my new purchase that I realized that I had been had. A Chinese-American friend, who was a master bargainer, told me that I should not have paid more than 90 yuan for what turned out to be faux name-brand jeans. The secret pride in my bargaining skills was immediately deflated. Worse yet: in the rush of the expectation to bargain, I didn’t try on the jeans, because there didn’t seem to be a fitting room (I later learned a sheet could have been used for a make-shift fitting room). In despair, I shed the pants and dropped them on the floor, wishing I had my 350 yuan back.

That was six months ago. With more study of Chinese and living in Beijing, I have learned a thing or two about shopping. I’ve learned to ignore compliments on my Chinese, to counter with one-fifth of whatever I’m offered, at most, and to stare a shopkeeper in the face with resolute confidence when asserting that I will not accept any other price. I admit I get a little bit of a high from it. I don’t shop at Silk Street anymore, but I like going back and watching newbies to Beijing proudly pay five times what they should be. I don’t do this out of superiority, but out of understanding and in reminiscence of my first days in a Beijing, a place I know I will dearly miss after my return home, a time that is fast approaching.