xi'an, continued.

Xi'An's other major ticketed tourist spots are the old Bell Tower (a traffic roundabout bedecks it now), the complementary Drum Tower (across the street, behind a bumpin' Haagen Dazs), and the Big and Small Goose Pagodas. The Towers mark the axis of the downtown area, around which spiral unpretentious live music venus, neat coffee houses and bars, and, most notably, the Muslim Quarter.

I spent about two days wandering through that delightful maze, tasting (lots) of local delectables - kicky, garlicky shredded pork, sandwiched between lettuce doughy, baked starch; lumps of sweet gluten sprinkled with candied dates and sugar, skewers of glazed fruit, heavy twists of cinnamon-laced bread. Open-air butcher shops buzzed with flies and smelt of blood and hooves, tourists, hawkers, children packed the narrow streets. Further down, Muslim women swathed in linens sold apothecary curiosities, brocade, lacquered treasure boxes, incense holders, jade and ivory jewelry. Less exotic stands resembled any American Chinatown, offering faux designer scarves, handbags, sunglasses, luggage. Overhead, kites flown by children in the Tower courtyard drifted lazily through a cloudless sky.
Negotiation is an integral part of the culture of Chinese commerce. Nepotism and networking dominate a disproportionate amount of white collar business. Western taboos like bribery and insider trading are more or less standard practice, although the recent influx of wholly-owned foreign enterprises, international joint ventures, and multi-national corporations setting up shop in China have curbed these tendencies, or at least brought them into question. I have mixed feelings about these deeply unegalitarian but firmly-rooted cultural practices being slowly strained out by globalization, but after business hours, on the streets, and particularly here, in the heartland, it’s clear that the customs’ spirit is still routinely exercised. Haggling, which frugal I had swiftly adopted and polished in urbane Shanghai, is a procedure that resembles a courtship. It goes something like this:

Customer: How much is it?
Vendor names price
Customer: What’s the lowest price?
Vendor names price typically at 20% discount
Customer names price up to an additional 50% discount
Vendor laments the economy; redacts price to a 30% discount
Customer restates desired price
Vendor laments current operating costs; redacts price to a 40% discount
Customer states desired price a third time
Vendor acquiesces; transaction transpires

Three times a charm; incredibly, buyers and sellers in open-air markets are almost always able to come to an agreement. It’s a fun little dance, if you’re up for it. Unfortunate are the ignorant who don’t know the standard script; unenlightened are the meek who back down at the first sign of obstacle.
I picked up some souvenirs (and man, was the haggling fierce in touristy Xi’An – the first bad sign was that the hawkers spoke English), and then sat down for a traditional entrée – a thick, hard slab of bread grated into a savory lamb broth – for dinner before retiring.