Souvenirs, haggling, and getting ripped off

Saeeda woke up with a sore throat today, so we decided we’d try and get a proper breakfast, and not just a chocolate croissant from Starbucks. After that, it was off to the Ghost Market, so called because it opens at dawn (4:30am) and the people browsing for goods are (supposedly) like ghosts in the morning light.

The place was amazing, and reminded me somewhat of the Russian market in Pnomh Penh, Cambodia. Not only could you buy exquisitely drawn calligraphy and scrollwork, but there was Communist memorabilia, old cameras, rotary telephones, and military uniforms, just in case you needed some. We had no way of knowing of what was authentic and what was fake, but it looked great, and was pretty cheap. I ended up buying these two watercolors that were so well drawn that they looked like photographs from a distance (could they have been a clever use of Photoshop?), and Saeeda bought two elegant scrolls.

I realized that our bargaining skills suck. I knew that was true of myself (my father always tells me so, and I agree with him), but Saeeda wasn’t that much better. It basically came down to us knowing that we were just getting something cheap for cheaper if we negotiated, and the language barrier got to be too challenging in the end – the game is not stacked in your favor by any means. I’m sure we could have driven prices lower, but as it is we left with some nice things. I just hope that there isn’t a situation in the future where a Chinese friend looks at our scrolls in and tells us that we bought something that describes the local breakfast special.

Lunch was at McDonald’s – we just needed the break from all the Chinese food, so we succumbed. Yes, I am not very proud of this, but the call of the Golden Arches was too strong to resist. Afterwards it was off to the “hutong’s” – the incredibly close spaced homes in old Beijing that are vanishing as the government clears space for more profitable enterprises. The picture below was taken from the top of a bell tower, and gives you an idea of how closely packed the hutongs can get. There’s tons to explore in these alleyways, including hip bars and restaurants, and it is easy to get lost in there, which we did (my fault – I thought I knew where we were going). By the time we backtracked, caught a cab, and made it back to the hotel, it was late and we risked missing our flight. Saeeda wasn’t too happy with me.



The taxi to the airport got us there with just 40min. left before our departure time, so I had to resort to the classic trick in a traveler’s arsenal – the confused tourist at the first class counter. The line here was nonexistent, and my confused questions, along with the puppy dog look, made sure that we checked in with time to spare. What Faisal breaks, Faisal fixes.

The flight to Xi’an from Biejing was uneventful, but we did get ripped off on the ride to our hotel. The guidebooks mentioned the fare being around Y180, and ours not only came to Y200 (the driver obviously took a longer route), but we were asked to pay for the tolls too, which totalled Y40. Later on, we were to find out from fellow travelers that we ran into, and who also took cabs from the airport to the same hotel, that they had only paid Y150. Very annoying. Much more so because there is very little to guard against this crap. I wasn’t very happy.

We checked in to our hotel, then decided to go have some food in the Muslim quarter, which was a short walk away. Charming area, with narrow streets, vendors everywhere, and best of all, with halal food to be had at every establishment. We walked into one place, but it was getting ready to close, so we were rushed into picking something from the menu (which was not in English). We did our best, but the staff wanted to go home, so we were pressured into just picking something quickly. I’m not sure if we ordered the right things, or even if we ate them properly. I know this because every so often a waiter would walk by, look at us, then walk over to his buddies and snicker. When we were leaving, the manager of the place just openly broke out in laughter. I guess we may have been doing the equivalent of ordering steak and slathering it with peanut butter and jelly, then eating the whole thing with our hands. I didn’t really care – everything tasted great, and I could tell that the laughter was not ill-intentioned.