So where was I......?

Where was I with the story? Oh yeah, getting in the car with the big, half-lit American expat Mike. Right,

So, Mike convince our waitress Morgan to wrap my food to go (which is "take-away" in Mandarin) , ordered some beer for the ride, and away we went. I was very sure to inquire about local open container laws since I was getting into a car with a plastic bag full of ice and beer, but open container laws are nonexistent there. There are extremely harsh drunk driving laws, but nothing regulating passengers. Since we had a guy from the hotel that was paid to be the sober driver, I chalked it up to "when in Rome" and opened a beer after climbing in the back seat of the Camry. Mike got settled in the front seat and we headed out. At the bottom of the drive to the hotel, Mike says "Hey we gotta stop and get my translator." The car pulls over and two 20-something Chinese girls pile into the back seat with me. Um....yeah. Translators. Okay.....

Now, I was thinking the same thing you are right now, I guarantee. But, they were nicely dressed and did seem to have a good grasp of English and might be of use in communication. I figure if things get too...friendly, I can always excuse myself and hire a taxi back to the hotel. I've got enough money to take a taxi all the way across China, and I have the Hotel address in Chinese on my room card. What the hell...

So we shoot the breeze and have a few drinks as we work our way through traffic to downtown Shenzhen City. Mike starts teaching me a few words in Mandarin with Emily and Alicia's help, and We're having a good ole time. The traffic is thick and the as trip stretches out Emily begins to feel car sick, apparently something she goes through often. Instead of going directly to the shopping center, we went to the Shangri-La Hotel for a cold drink and a rest. Okay, hold on, Shangri-La is a SE Asian hotel chain of 5 star hotels, it's not at all what it sounds like. I swear. We all sit in the bar, have a few drinks and the girls ordered some food. Mike stays at these hotels all over in his travels and is one of their gold level frequent flyer types, so we get the red carpet treatment. Through conversation I learn the Emily is actually an assistant manager in the night club at our hotel and does frequently help guest with shopping and translation. I won't speculate as to what other services she may or may not offer, or may or may not arrange by request. Alicia also works at the hotel, and they have been together for 5 years. I'm not really clear if Alicia means friends for 5 years or ..."together" for 5 years, but it doesn't really matter. Once Emily is feeling better, we walk the three or four blocks to the shopping mall, LouHu Commercial City. The walk over is less crowded than some of the other places I've been, and just before we leave the hotel Mike tells me to keep a hand on my wallet because once in a great while thieves have been known to razor-slice your pockets and take the contents. Hmmm.....

I had actual read about this market in some of my initial research about Shenzhen, so I was somewhat prepared. As we approach the place people start walking up to us and saying "Hallo, what do you need, purse, watch, what you want....etc etc." These are "touters," people that make a few bucks by directing gullible travelers to certain shops to buy....whatever they want. The correct response is to ignore them, tell them "booyow" or something similar that means "Don't want." All through the day these guys and girls are matching your step and trying to grab at your arm to go show you something. It turns the afternoon into a tiring but interesting carnival. The shops inside are mostly glass front, full counter spaces reminiscent of an old mall, but the spaces are so tightly packed and the aisles are so narrow that is almost feels like a flea market. The touters and booth hawkers don't help any. Mike has a couple people he buys from regularly, so we see the first one - a watch and handbag specialist. When Mike walks up she immediately sends a runner for a couple cold beers and pulls out the watch catalog and the purse catalog. See, they all have a catalog, 3/4" thick, of every watch around. You simply flip through to find the brand you want, then point out a few. The shop owner sends a runner to whatever other stall or backroom has that model, and they bring it back in about 15 minutes. Mike selects several Rolex models and I point out a nice Coach handbag for my wife.

Now, at this point I want to make sure everyone knows that there are no fake or counterfeit goods in China. I know it's true because their government says so. But the deals you can get in these little backwater markets on top luxury brand items are just staggering.

We assure the proprietor we will be back and then head up stairs with our cold beers to see what else we can find. Mike was also searching for an old contact that sells Polo shirts, and we found her on the second floor. Did I mention that this place was 5 stories? We started haggling on some shirts with Mike, Emily and the shop owner going toe to toe over golf shirts. If you pay more than 2/3 of the original quoted price, or if you don't start to walk out at least twice, you aren't getting the best deal. Really. we finally worked the price down to 40RMB per shirt (6.15USD) and I bought 5 in solid colors. Although I normally wear an XL these days, I took her advice and got XXLs. I should have gone with one more X, but they'll be allright if I keep exercising and don't put them in the dryer.

After another hour and a half of cruising the shops and being harangued by all the sellers, we migrated back to the first shop and haggled out a final price for the watches and purse. Mike was worn out by that point, not being young or in good physical shape, so we walked back to the Shangri-La to find our driver. The girls couldn't believe he was tired, so they stayed and shopped, planning to return by train later. On the ride back to the hotel, Mike managed to spill the remainder of his white wine over the shifter and center console of the car, which angered the driver. Just. a. little. I thought for a few minutes we were about to be hiring a cab from wherever he kicked us out, but luckily we made it back to the hotel without the driver blowing a gasket. Mike tipped him enough to have the car cleaned twice and take his entire family out for dinner for a week. At least when he acts like an idiot American, he does his best to apologize and make up for it. Tipping is generally not done in China at all, so it was a nice gesture.

From there we met Dave B in the hotel bar and Bitt and I ended up at the street vendor for dinner. Sadly, I din't shoot any video of the market. I just didn't want that much attention.