A Yen to Spend

If nothing else, this trip to China has given me greater empathy towards foreigners, visiting or living in the United States. I’m sure, that to these Chinese people, I look like a doddering old man who can’t understand even the simplest words. I’ve seen that glazed-over look in the eyes of foreigners with whom I am speaking. No doubt, I have that same glazed-over look in my eyes when someone is giving me directions in Chinese.
Interestingly, the Chinese do exactly what I do when I’ve been in their shoes. They keep saying the same thing over and over, louder and louder, figuring that eventually, when it gets loud enough, I’ll become fluent in their language. “Just turn right,” I’ve screamed at little old Chinese men in the past. “I said, ‘Just turn right!’”
It just doesn’t work. And so I do what those little Chinese men have done with me. I smile and thank the person trying to help and wander away as lost as ever.
Fortunately, it’s all a big adventure…this going out and getting lost thing. We did just that on Thursday. Our waitress, the night before, a lovely young woman, who has just completed a six-year course in English, told us we should visit the City Center, for shopping. She wrote it in Chinese characters, so we could just show it to those from whom we were seeking directions.
It worked well. We were directed to the proper bus, and although we started off in the wrong direction, when shown the paper, the bus driver did a little circle motion with his fingers indicating we needed to go the other way. So, we jumped off, crossed the street, and caught the same numbered bus going the opposite direction.
Now, I mention crossing the street as if there were nothing to it. On a life-threatening-things-to-do scale, I’d rank it at about an 8.5. I have been brainwashed, through decades of life in the U.S. into believing the pedestrian has the right-of-way. It’s just the opposite on the opposite side of the world.
Although, I never actually saw a pedestrian get hit (at least not thus far), it wasn’t because the motorist, or even bicyclist, wasn’t trying. Vehicles change lanes incessantly, even, in the case of the two-wheeled ones, going onto the sidewalk when necessary. You cross the street one lane at a time, and hope that while you’re standing between lanes, a vehicle doesn’t need that space you’re occupying.
We did make it, finally, into the downtown-shopping district, with the help of a lot of people who couldn’t understand us, and whom we couldn’t understand. Guangzhou is, in many ways, a very modern city. And, yet, in the City Center, there is a mixture of the new with the very old. Next to skyscrapers, stand small stone buildings that look as if they’d been there for centuries. Turn off the main street, into dark, ancient alleys, and you could easily imagine you’d traveled back in time.
Interestingly, while an occasional old man might stare at us, very few seemed to pay attention to strange Americans wandering through the courtyards of clusters of their apartments. This is quite a contrast to the hotel complex in which we’re staying, where, it feels as if everyone is watching you. I’m not sure if that’s an indication of distrust, or if they simply want to be sure our needs are satisfied.
Back to the streets of City Center, one can find an amazing array of wares. There are many small shops, selling baubles and bangles, shirts and skirts, hosiery, produce, you name it. These are run by merchants who stand at the entrance of their stores and call out to passersby, primarily tourists, I imagine. Some stores use more aggressive tactics, sending salespeople out into the streets to accost tourists, virtually attempting to drag them down the street, around the corner, and into their stores. At first, we politely followed. But the accosters became so numerous and persistent, that eventually we just pretended they weren’t there. I hate being rude (believe that, if you will), but there is no other way to deal with these people but to ignore them. “No,” is not in their vocabulary.
Perhaps it’s because there are a billion people in the country, but, even in the smaller stores, there may be ten or more salespeople. While in the store, even if you’re speaking with one salesman, it is not unusual for two or three others to be bringing you items to try on or look at. In one such store, after I had walked out, a salesman follows me and shows me a picture of a young Chinese woman. “Pretty,” he says, pointing to the picture. “You want?” I don’t think he’s kidding.
City Center is filled with these small stores and aggressive merchants. But there are also some very modern shops as well. Grand Buy easily rivals any department store I’ve ever visited, including Macy’s in New York. It’s an eight-story building filled with all of the things one would expect to find in a department store…fashions, jewelry, cosmetics, furniture, electronics, even a very modern grocery store.
The electronics/appliance department contains the very latest in refrigerators, washing machines, and, of course, HDTVs. I’ve never seen such brilliant, sharp images on television as on the TVs displayed there. And, I’m told, they’re all made in China.
I would have spent some money in City Center, but I didn’t have any yen. I tried several ATMs, but, they offered no English option, and when it comes to my debit card, I don’t want to just start pushing buttons. I went into a couple of banks, but, for some reason, banks are very busy places.
When you enter, you take a number, and wait. It’s not unlike the DMV. There were waiting areas in both of the banks I tried, and there were large numbers of people waiting.
I didn’t have the yen to wait, so we hopped on the bus and returned to our hotel. It’s a very interesting facility in its own right, but I’ll tell you more about that another time.