How to Buy Q-tips in China

For many foreigners, shopping in China presents a bit of a problem. Without the ability to read signs or ask where things are, an ordinary shopping excursion can amount to hours of wandering through isle after isle of pickled seaweed and animal parts. Even worse is trying to identify items in containers, like cleaning products. If it has a picture of a toilet on it, is it okay for the whole bathroom? Or just for toilets? What if the only picture is of a muscular man in a leotard who appears to be flying? What does that clean? Crime?

On the other hand, you can always do as I do and turn a shopping trip into an opportunity to both have fun and torment the sales staff at the same time. In over a year of living abroad, I have learned one crucial and beautiful truth: regardless of language barrier, it is possible, given enough time, for two people to communicate practically anything as long as they both make an honest effort. Trust me, it can be done. The instant one side gives up, it's over - but if you both keep trying, eventually you can find breakfast cereal (or world peace, as the case may be).

This typically involves a series of gestures that make the inquirer look like a particularly animated version of Grover from Sesame Street. Or possibly Elmo, because smiling is a key strategy. I enjoy this process so much that I employ it to ask the whereabouts of things that I could easily find on my own. For example, a bathmat.

I stride up to two sales ladies who look particularly bored (Chinese department stores always have about two dozen sales people standing around doing nothing). Seeing me approach is sort of their worst nightmare, because it means three things:

1. I am much too large and this is unsettling.

2. I am not Chinese and this is further distressing.

3. I only speak English (see 2), and this is most distressing of all because I will undoubtedly speak English to them, which is hands down the worst thing that you can do to an Asian adult.

But I totally fake them out because instead of speaking English, I speak the international language of pantomime. First, I am taking a shower, signified by a circular motion under my arms. Then, I am toweling off, starting with the face, and proceeding to the chest. Then - and I hold up my fingers to indicate that this is key - I am stepping on something, and wiping my feet. I point to that thing, and smile (very important).

They look at each other and say a few brief words. Then they turn to me and say something in Chinese. Sales ladies invariably attempt to verify the object of my inquiry in Chinese, which seems like a superfluous step since I have no way to either substantiate or deny their guess. Anyway, I nod at what they say and they take me to - the bathmats. Easy-peasy, Chinese-y.

For the most part sales ladies are thoroughly entertained by my performances. Once, while trying to express my need for coffee creamer, I had gathered an audience of no less than nine sales ladies, most of whom were engaging in open conjecture concerning the object of my desire or possibly my mental status. They watched carefully as I poured the coffee into a mug, then added the - fingers up! - cream, and then stirred it with a spoon. Suddenly, a young woman in front practically shrieks something, and the other ladies emit that declining "ohhhhhh" that means "Aha!" in every language. And now my coffee is creamy.

Occasionally I do get a sales lady who's not willing to play ball. Once when searching for an alarm clock, I mimed sleeping and then indicated a noisy object that caused me to wake. Sales lady, it does not get any simpler than that. But she just looks at me and says something terse, presumably "I am calling security". Chagrined, I grudgingly unholster my electronic dictionary and summon the translation. Yes, of course, this is much more efficient, sales lady. But at what price? You have cost me the joy of wasting your time.

The very best sales ladies, however, are the ones who try to sell me something despite the fact that I clearly don't speak Chinese. This is due in part to the fact that I unfailingly give them every indication that I understand them completely. Today I was looking at the Chinese liquors when a sales lady approached and I swear we had the following conversation:

"Hey."

“你吃批乐各我们？很好的学生。”

"Yeah, I was just wondering, what's the difference between these two liquors?"

“着是人我的够。内个人是很好。”

"I see. And why is this one more expensive?"

“我的名字是学。你要不要你的狗？我们两个䀔时不时是不是很热的人。”

"Ah. So this one is made in the Hubei province?"

“对。”

Thanks.

“不可起。”

I'm quite confident that she didn't understand a word I said, and I sure as hell didn't understand her. But we had a conversation of sorts, and I ended up with a bottle of liquor from Hubei. So that's progress, I guess.

Anyway, my point is made. If you ever find yourself in a communicatively difficult situation, don't be so quick to give up. Just keep talking, gesturing, and encouraging the other person to struggle on with you. You'll eventually be able to communicate, whether the other person speaks Chinese or is simply a relative/spouse.

On another note, I've been getting a lot of similar questions lately, so the next post will probably be a sort of Q & A session where I lay things out for everyone. If you have any questions you want answered, e-mail me and I'll post the answer here. FACT. And yes, I do read all of your comments, so I'll answer those questions too.

Hao ba.