Hair is Rare
One of the last days in Beijing we were taken to one of the famous shopping places. Because Caroline and I had no money and were actually in debt, we had to hit up the Bank of China to get some yuan. This took about 45 minutes and then we were off.
Most of the vendors are aggressive, to say the least. They have no problem grabbing your arm and pulling you into the store. The first thing I looked at was a shirt. Of course, the girl started her price ridiculously high and I claimed that I would only pay for a very small price. Then the bargaining began. Her price was still too high for what I was willing to buy. Therefore, I told her I didn't want it and walked away. This was when she started accusing me of being ugly and stupid. She also said Caroline was too good for me and should be with someone more handsome. I replied back that she wasn't a good salesperson.
One of the more memorable shopping experiences happened when I was looking at a coat. About four girls worked at this place. I had tried it on and decided on a price. I pulled out 100 yuan from my pocket and paid. One girl, seeing where my money came from, decided to try to go into my pocket to go after more money. I grabbed her arms and we started to sort of wrestle. She wouldn't stop so I decided to pick her up from her legs. I lifted her about six inches off the ground until I knew that I had scared her. I put her down and she proceeded to sit on the ground, happy to be grounded. Need I say she didn't try to go after my money again.
Hair is rare in China. My arms have been rubbed at least six times in China, by people in awe of how hairy my arms are. Yesterday, my beard was rubbed by one of the vendors. (So was Caroline's.) We tried to rub the vendor's face back, but she wouldn't let us. One time, one of the men who rode me around in a cart, wanted to compare arms, legs, and chest. It was very entertaining for both of us.
-Bryce Foster