Today was another action-packed day – it’s not even 6 PM and I’m already completely exhausted. Me and Hannah got up bright and early at nine to go to the Dirt Market with Patrik, a place we had wanted to visit for quite some time but just hadn’t gotten around to. Patrik on the other hand had been there several times already, but wasn’t tired of it at all.
Let me tell you a little about Beijing: It’s a HELL of a big town. We live in the northwest corner of Beijing – not the suburbs by any means, but quite far from Tiananmen Square and the sightseeing spots. This means that if we want to do anything outside of our little university neighbourhood area (slightly bigger than all of Uppsala), it takes the entire day. And the Dirt Market was literally on the other side of town, in the southeast part of Beijing.
Subway: around 50 minutes, including three changes.
Walking in the wrong direction (thank you Patrik!): around 15 minutes.
Bus: 20 minutes.
Walking: 15 minutes.
We started off from Wudaokou around 10.20, and reached the market around 12.30, and by then I was so exhausted I just wanted to go home. It didn’t help that there were three big markets in the area (one selling… big rocks, from what we could tell, about as big and tall as a person, and one indoor market selling antiques that we walked past), and Patrik had forgotten what the surroundings of the Dirt Market looked like. Naturally, it was the market furthest away from the bus stop, and as we trudged along I wondered if it was really worth the time and effort to come to such a godforsaken place. What could possibly be so special about yet another Chinese market?
Dude, I was so wrong.
The Dirt Market (Or Panjiayuan Market, as it’s called in Chinese, and yes, it’s same character for Pan as my Mom’s surname) is first of all HUGE.







And it’s outdoors; more smoking but not as stuffy as indoor markets. And there are rows upon rows upon rows of little stalls, selling every single Chinese knickknack you can possibly imagine. Antique chests and furniture, giant calligraphy brushes as long as my legs, Mao memorabilia, paintings, calligraphy, art, jade, pearls and beads (a lot of the jewellery looked a lot like Native American jewellery, surprisingly enough), silk bags, wine coolers, pillows, clothes and chopsticks sets, figurines, pottery, stones and stone stamps, swords, old phones and cameras… whether things were real or fake I didn’t know, and frankly didn’t care – oddly enough, I didn’t feel an urge to buy any of the knickknacks; just browsing the stalls was overwhelming enough already. And also, most of the things were fascinating, kitschy junk I wouldn’t fill my home with. Amongst the more interesting things I saw though were:
- A Mao clock with the second hand shaped like a rocket, and Mao waving with every tick.
- wind-chime-like dolls made of sheets of leather, but so fine it was semi-transparent. The details of the doll were carved through the leather, creating a very nice effect against backlighting.
- a painting of a girl and uh, a breast-feeding piglet. (quite disturbing, actually)
- 100-year old shoes made for “lotus feet”. That was truly unsettling.




As we browsed, we suddenly stumbled upon an intriguing sign: “No smoking.” Entering the roofed area, we realized why: along the entire length of the market, was a never-ending line of book stalls, selling everything from Western books to old booklets with faded texts. Then, I was reminded of my love of books and reading, and how much I wish I could read Chinese fluently. A significant part of a 5000-year old history and culture is closed for me – because of my language skills, or lack thereof, there’s so much I can’t explore and experience.

One thing was uplifting though – I finally felt some advantage to being a Chinese at a Chinese market. Usually, I feel handicapped because I look and talk like a Chinese, and therefore can’t ask questions about things I ought to know as a Chinese. But at the market, I got the real prices quoted from start, not the ridiculous starting prices they give foreigners. Well, when I browsed on my own anyway. I looked at a silk handbag at one stall and was told it cost 30 RMB. At the next stall, I talked to Patrik (in Swedish) right before inquiring about the price for the exact same kind of bag, and the saleswoman started at 60 RMB. It felt really good to scoff in her face and walk off – I might have been ripped off buying my red Chloé bag, but that was my tuition fee. I’m not going to be that easily fooled again. So when I angered the saleswoman at the next stall, giving a ridiculous counter-offer, I wasn’t really bothered – I’d rather have them be mad at me for starting off too low, than waste my hard-earned (hrm, well, borrowed or my parents’ hard-earned) cash by paying too much. Because the Chinese sellers always want to sell, and as I returned to the stall an hour after, I got the bag quite amicably for 25 RMB. (I had started off at 10 RMB, and she responded by snatching the bag back and refusing to talk to me. When they do that, or tell you to keep browsing without any haggling, they really mean it. It’s another thing if you haggle and they tell you that, cuz then they’ll probably call you back as you’re walking away) And when I asked about prices for the other bags, she gave me quite exact numbers – i.e. 22 RMB instead of 25/30 RMB – which no one ever does, to make clear it was her lowest possible offer, thus sparing us both the haggling process. And when we chatted about her prices to foreigners, she told me they start at 100-120 RMB, working down to around 50 or 60 RMB. I know they do the same at Silk Market and such, and I never really realized before just how frustrating that must be for Westerners.
I think she got a little miffed though when Patrik came round and we started speaking Swedish.

But hey, every once in a while, I should get to have the best of two worlds.

I’m beginning to see some haggling principles as well, and listing them here will help me improve my skills, so –
Rule number one: they will never sell at a loss, (unless they’ve had a severely unprofitable day and they’re desperate, i.e. a rainy day at an outdoors market) which means they will always make a profit off of you. But how much more they earn besides the minimum profit, is up to you and your haggling skills.

Rule number two: don’t be afraid to call them on bullshit. If they counter an inquiry about the price with “you tell me how much you think it’s worth”, just act irritated and tell them to give you a straight answer if they’re really interesting in making a deal.

Rule number three: knowledge is power. Some things can be unique, but those are few and far between. Some clothes were one of a kind at the market I went to on Friday, and a lot of knickknacks at the Dirt Market as well, but apart from that, compare and contrast. There’s not a single unique thing at markets like Silk Market and Yashow, and if you know what you want, haggle at several different places. If that isn’t possible, you just have to use your own judgment, and ask yourself – how much is this thing worth to a Chinese? Because that’s how much you should pay, Chinese or not. Also, as a foreigner, you're almost always given a higher price, even if we're just talking about buying fruit.

Rule number four: As I’ve said already; better to give too low an offer than a too high one. Because unless they’re literally swearing at you (which I’ve seen happen), you can always come back after a few hours’ browsing, with a more realistic view on what something’s worth. They’ll still want to haggle then.

Rule number five: No matter how much you know about haggling in theory, it really isn't until you've gained some experience, maybe been ripped off a couple of times, that you really start to get a feel for it. I thought I knew the first few times, but man, it is infinitely harder when you're standing there and the saleswoman is smattering incessantly next to you about the quality and such. (Now I've learned to tune her out except for the relevant phrases)

Notes:
- Today’s weather was really horrible. It was overcast, but unlike elsewhere, it felt as if you were literally covered in pollution. The haze in the air wasn’t fog, for sure.



The view from the subway station.

- I didn’t know this, but apparently, starting south of Tiantan is the slum area of Beijing. I saw my first horse cart in Beijing today, and the streets around the Dirt Market reminded me more of Hegang and Harbin than of Beijing.



A pretty decent building.



The area right on the other side of the building.

- Subway is insanely tasty here. It also has sugared ice tea on tap with the other soft drinks. On that note, McDonald's has a hamburger of the week with kimchi in it. And a pie with what I swear looks like green peas.



(browsing the art stalls)
Patrik: “I’m going to buy pictures of naked girls!”
(Me walking two steps and seeing a huge painting in traditional Chinese style, but with a nude woman and some artsy drapes)
Me (pointing): "There you go."
Patrik: "Wow. You’re good."

(Patrik giving his ice tea to Hannah to hold while he eats his Subway sandwich)
Patrik: "You can be our cup holder!"
Hannah (deadpan): "That's what I'm here for."



Poor guy. He must have a headache.

(Hannah eating my grapes)
Hannah: *chew* *chomp* "I love grapes!"
Me: "Have them! I can't eat them all, and they're gonna go bad otherwise."
Hannah: "No, I can't, cuz then I'll just go to the bathroom every five minutes the whole night."
Me: "Heh, no seriously, if you like them, have them."
Hannah: "No, I have to go to the bathroom now."
Me: "Haha"
Hannah (as she gets up and walks to the bathroom): "I'm not kidding."