I have to say the best part of being Asian here in Beijing is that I have generally avoided being seen as a “tourist with a wallet.” On more than one occasion I’ve laughed at the bicycle-for-hire or taxi guys that look past me but go running toward the white people behind me.
However, on Friday all that was different. I found myself near Silk Alley, so I decided to venture in to see if I could find some hiking boots. Big mistake. Big. Huge. (10 points if you remember what US movie’s shopping scene that is from) The place was packed with tourists, mostly American, and it was a general nightmare. The first stall I stopped at was fine. I tried on the shoes, but they didn’t fit. The girl was intrigued by my American accent but shrugged when I said I didn’t want them. I moved on to the row of shoe vendors. At this stall, imitation brands abounded. I saw a pair of “Timberland”s and asked to try them on in my size. The girl looked and couldn’t find any so decides to tell me that I could take them in the size on display “for a very good price.” First off, the “very good price” was about the cost of real Timberlands in the US (not even as a starting price for bargaining, is this reasonable); second off, THEY WEREN’T IN MY SIZE! When I told her no thanks, she says she’ll get them for me in my size, “but let’s talk price first.” I tell her “No, that’s OK.” As I get up to leave, she grabs my arm — which is completely surprising given the culture. When I look at her hand and say, “That’s OK, thank you,” she tightens her grip. I actually had to start prying her fingers from around my bicep.
After wandering around for a few minutes more, I’m grabbed at many more times. Leaving the whole mall area (without hiking boots), I was a bit saddened by how the “tourist with a wallet” idea had made these young girls start acting. The open desperation and money chasing was far different from how I’ve seen most Chinese act toward me. Blech. It’s times like this when I hate being a tourist.
Back when I was a wee little college freshman (see right), I was often approached by Chinese foreign exchange students. Apparently, my small-town style was similar to their Chinese fashions. In Mandarin, they would ask me questions that I couldn’t understand for the life of me. After a few months at MU, though, I chopped off my waist-length hair, decided to wear makeup every day, and discovered boot-cut jeans. After these minor transformations, the questions stopped.
2005 solo cross-country road trip.