So I decided to get in shape. And to do this, I decided to run. Now running wasn't my first choice, and isn't particularly my favorite thing to do, but I don't really have other options. Biking would be my first choice, and I see plenty of bikes on the streets every day, but the problem is that no one I know owns one. Or maybe I could try rollerblading. The problem with that is that I never learned how to rollerblade, and I also don't own rollerblades. So that left me with running. All you need to do to run is yourself and a pair of running shoes. Even this posed a slight problem, as the only shoes that I had with me, besides my winter boots, are a pair of beat-up Sketchers which are fine for walking around, but would probably destroy my feet if I tried anything above the level of speed-walking.
Luckily, I have a Chinese market in my city. All of our shoes (including my Sketchers) are made in China anyway, so I figured that getting them straight from the manufacturer would be the cheapest way to get in shape.
So on Saturday morning, I went to the Chinese market. You walk into a large building, and Chinese products are all laid out in front of you in endless alleyways of sunglasses, coats, women’s underwear, shoes, toys, and even Chinese food. There is just so much stuff there. And buying it is like a game.
Believe it or not, there is actually a special technique to shopping at the Chinese market. This wasn't my first time there, but today was the first time that I was there alone, without a Russian to help me do the shopping or negotiating. Before I went, I told my host parents of my intentions, and they gave me a few pointers. "When you first go in, don't stop anywhere. Just look around the entire place first and scout out where you are going to do the bargaining. Never pay the first price that they offer you. Always name a price a little below half of their offer and then move up to half and don't go above that. If they don't want to negotiate, just start to walk away, and they will usually start lowering the price. But you have to be careful, because sometimes they will start following you and getting aggressive. And you don't want to let them know that you are not Russian, otherwise they will never negotiate." This last bit of advice was not particularly worrying-- I probably speak better Russian than them anyway and they aren't going to notice if I don't conjugate a verb correctly. Even if I told them that I was from the United States, they probably wouldn't understand anyway.
So I went, and I scouted. I stopped in at one of the stalls I saw. I looked at some of the running shoes on the wall.
"You like? What size are you? I will find for you!" said the Chinese proprietor of the stall.
"45" I said, using the European metric measurement that was printed on the tongue of my Sketchers. She brought them, they were too small. She didn't have anything bigger.
So I went to the next stall. I tried on a pair of 46's but they were still a little small.
"Do you have anything bigger?" I asked. He did. He had 47s. So I tried them on, and they fit well, but they were made of black leather with no ventilation.
"They fit? Good! So you will buy?" He excitedly prodded me.
"Yes they fit, but I'm going to be running and I want them to breathe."
"They won't! Don't worry! They are good quality!" I think he thought that I said I didn't want them to break. I repeated that I wanted them to breathe, and started taking them off, but go the same response. When I started to walk away, he got mad. "They fit! Why don't you buy?! They fit!" he started yelling at me. "I know. But I want to look around more, at other shoes." I calmly responded, even cracking a friendly smile. It didn't faze him.
"Just name your price! What price do you want? You will buy!" He said glaring at me.
"Good bye" I said, and walked away as fast as I could.
I went into another shop and tried some on, and the sales guy started getting aggressive too. But then my phone rang. It was my friend Vika, and we started talking. It gave me a perfect excuse to get away without being nagged.
Finally I went to the fourth booth. I found a nice pair of running shoes, ventilated, and with air cushions. I asked for 47's to try on. She kind of looked at me, because 47 is already really big and hard to find. "Fine" she said "I'll be back. Stay here." she was gone a long time. She finally came back.
"Are these 47's?" I asked. I looked at the tongue. The four was intact, but the second number had been scratched out. In both shoes. I tried them on anyway. They fit, and were comfortable. I wanted to buy them. I asked how much. She said 2,600 rubles (about $90). This was a lot, even if I bargained it down half. I had wanted to pay somewhere around 500 rubles for shoes, and I didn’t even have that much with me.
"Oh" I said, disappointed "I was looking for something cheaper"
"I can make discount for you!" She said eagerly. "But I wanted shoes around 500 rubles, so maybe I could look at another pair"
"How about 1,600?" she said "It's a good price"
"You don’t understand... I only bought 500 rubles with me. I don’t have 1,600."
"1,000 then!" She replied.
"I can't pay that." I repeated.
"Look and see how much you have!" she ordered.
I looked. I had 1000; I told her I had 700.
"That's too low! Minimum 800, but I'm already losing money!!"
"750!" I tried.
"No! 800 minimum. It is already not profitable for me!"
"Fine 800" I conceded. She already had the shoes in a bag. She took my money counted it, and returned to her position at the stall without looking back. I walked out with my new running shoes in a plastic baggie, feeling pretty good about myself. I had just negotiated a 2,600 ruble ($90) pair of shoes down to 800 ($26). It was a little more than I had wanted to pay in the first place, but I felt content with my purchase and my new mastery of bargaining skills. Even my host parents were impressed when I told them how much I talked it down.
So the next morning, I woke up early and went running, and I looked pretty American while I was at it. Jogging in itself is still not super popular in Russia, and is actually pretty American, I have been told. Plus I had my big headphones on, and as sporting the "Minnesota Vikings" T-shirt which Ethan (who conveniently happens to be from Minnesota) gave me as a present while we were in Vladivostok together. I ran about 3 miles in all, along the river embankment. When I returned home, I hurt. This was the first serious physical activity that I had done in 8 months, and my muscles were aching all over. But it felt good to get a good lung-pounding workout in again, and I was just glad that I survived.
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