Buying nothingness
September 22nd, 2008 by AdministratorBuying nothingness at the Xiangyang Market
The following is a complete transcript of today’s podcast:
For those of you familiar with the recent history of Shanghai, you will remember the Xiangyang market. Plunked right in the middle of downtown Shanghai, it was both a beacon to tourists and a bane to local authorities - for it was the biggest, wildest, most uncontrolled fake-goods market in the city (if not the country). The tension among the local authorities was palpable because, although it was a big draw for many foreigners, it was also a sign that China’s control over knock-off products was not as good as they were touting.
The authorities have since shut down the market claiming, rightly so, that the land was too valuable and needed to be developed (I think they are putting in another hotel-shopping-residential-commercial complex that will look just like the other 20 million similar complexes in China, thereby eliminating any character and class from a city that used to have buckets full of both).
Anyhow, this podcast is not a screed of the cynical China expat - or, at least, it is not intended to be. It is actually the story of grace and kindness in the midst of hardcore commerce. This is the story of the day I went to Xiangyang Market to buy nothing. I had something to buy but that something was, really, nothing. Lest this quickly digress into a podcast on Retail Zen - “Grasshopper, first you must know the sound of one hand shopping” - let me try and explain.
I had recently purchased a new belt at Xiangyang. When I got home I found that I needed a couple of extra holes to make it smaller. Now, if I were back in the States, I would go to the garage, find a hammer and nail and just make my own hole. But in China, I possess neither hammer, nor nail, nor garage so I had to find someone to help. And this is where the nothingness comes in: I needed to buy a hole.
I figured that since I had purchased the belt at Xiangyang, I would return to the scene of the crime in search of the belt puncture-upgrade. I reached the market gate and steeled myself for the phalanxes of commerce vultures screaming the glories of their wares (all of whom, oddly, mistook me for Dick Van Dyke, repeatedly greeting me with a hearty “Hello, DVD!”).
But first, a confession: I really am a cynical person. The reason matters not, for I am not alone: the expat community in China is rife with cynics. And our Cynicism Radars are particularly active at Xiangyang-type markets where the stall owners are out to make a quick RMB off our supposed ignorance.
However, my radar did not seem to be functioning that day and I found myself explaining my situation to one of the DVD touts at the gate. He smiled and, with a glint in his eye, said “Follow me.”
We wove our way through the stalls of “genuine fake” goods, ending up at a shoe repair place at the back of the market. My new Best Friend proudly introduced me to the proprietor and I explained what I wanted. Shoe Repair Guy looked at the belt and shook his head; no, he didn’t have a leather punch big enough for that purpose and recommended that we try another place a few stalls down - where we found that they, too, did not have the right tool but directed us to yet another stall down the way. This charade lasted half an hour, with each stall owner shaking his head in empathy - “can’t help, so sorry.”
After awhile, my radar warmed up and I began to wonder if my Best Friend was taking me for a ride, a ride that would end at his stall where I could not get a hole made but where I was sure to find an excellent selection of other belts (in addition to an oh-so-lovely purse, should I wish to accessorize further).
Just as I was about to give up, we stopped by a stall that was tucked among the meat vendors (where, I am pretty sure, you can find all the components to assemble your own pig, should you care to).
I explained to a cobbler, for the umpteenth time, my dilemma. She took a look at my belt (which, by that time, I had removed from my person to relieve myself of the embarrassment of beginning a striptease at each stall), hauled out a punch and whacked two proper-sized holes in it. She handed it back and said, “That will be 5 kuai.” Stunned, I fished around in my pocket for change and handed it to her.
I looked over at Best Friend, Radar in “full alert” mode, expecting him to try to sell me something else, but he just looked at me and asked “Is it OK now?” I was shocked. Did he really want nothing from me? Was he really just trying to be helpful? Is the world really flat? Is up, down; is black, white; and are Shanghai pedestrians now crossing only at intersections?
But it was true: He really was being helpful. He saw someone in need and decided to take 45 minutes out of his day to help me out. Amazing. I thanked him profusely and asked for his card, promising to stop by his stall with my rich laowai friends.
So beware, dear listener of foreign origin: If ever we meet in person, I am going to insist you visit my Best Friend who, while no longer at Xiangyang market, has moved to a different one and was kind enough to inform me of the fact. After all, we are guests in China and we owe our hosts a debt. Our cynicism must be compensated for with kindness, and I don’t plan to foot the bill on my own.
Photo courtesy of Marc van der Chijs on Flickr

The 2008
Our friends at our parent company
The September 2008 issue of IndustryWeek has an important cover story written by the magazine’s editor in chief, David Blanchard. In “
I have decided that for this Olympics, I am going to be “of the people.” If I watch any Olympic coverage on TV, I am going to go to where Chinese people gather and do it there, eschewing private viewing at home. Kinda regular-guy of me, isn’t it? Actually, it is more of a necessity than a moral position – my satellite reception at home is broken and I can’t seem to get my repair guy out to fix it. You know that “we’ll be there between 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. sometime in August” you get in the States? We have that here, too! Cable guys, I guess, are the great cultural equalizer.