It's all relative

I had another China moment last week. After a long day in the office and feeling a bit tired and emotional, I decided to take a taxi home. My apartment is a whole, hmmm, 3km from the office?? I usually catch a train, for the grand sum of just under 2 kwai (about 30 cents), so decided to splurge and spent 11-12 kwai for a cab home. I leaned in and told the cabbie where I wanted to go before getting in – “sure, sure” he says. Hai Feng Road, no problem. I get in (the front – no seat belts in the back) and immediately, he goes a different way to every other time I’ve travelled by car from the office. Right, I’m thinking. New driver, new route. No problem. Until he gets onto a ramp taking us in the TOTAL OPPOSITE direction of where I want to go. “Wrong way”, I tell him in my broken Chinese. I’m pointing down Huacheng Road “this is right”. I can almost see him thinking “Bugger. Stupid foreigner with no Chinese knows the way home”. No sh!t, Sherlock. I don’t know much, but I do know that you don’t need to take me north west to drop me 3km south east.

He then starts zigzagging up and down roads, and the meter is now up at 18kwai (A$3) – it should be 12 kwai (A$2), MAXIMUM. “No good! This is wrong!” I’m insisting. He is saying nothing, like he is a geographically-challenged mute. We’re up at 24 kwai – twice what it should be – and I’m unravelling. I call the reception desk, and ask them to tell him how to get there, pronto. "It's too much", I tell them. "I don't think he is lost, I think he is trying to get bigger fare". I pass the phone to him, he listens for about 30 seconds and hands the phone back to me. Suitably chastised, and a couple of (correct!) turns later, I’m home. The fare is up at 30kwai. No way am I paying that. I am soooooo p!ssed off. “30” he’s telling me. “Nope. Should be 12. Not paying 30”. (At least, I think I said that) “25?” he barters. “WRONG”, I say as I get out and offer 20 kwai to him. He accepts, and doesn’t push me for the other ten – he knows he’s tried to dupe me, and he knows that *I* know he’s tried to dupe me.

Fuming, I head up to my apartment but remember I need to pick up some fruit, veg and juice, so I drop in at the deli. Oooh! They have my favourite yoghurt from Australia! (Black Swan Greek-style yoghurt, in case you’re wondering). I pick it up and put it in my basket, completely unperturbed by the 86 kwai price tag. I also need *tampons*. They’re selling at the bargain price of 62 kwai. I start laughing, out loud, in the deli. No doubt they think I'm nuts. I’m paying almost 14 bucks for yoghurt, and 10 bucks for a small box of tampons, but I’m getting aggro and haggling over $1.50 with the cab driver. What is wrong with me!?!

I guess no one likes to feel that they’re (literally) being taken for a ride. The cab driver sized me up immediately – I couldn’t speak the language, I couldn’t direct him (other than NO, WRONG, BAD, LEFT and RIGHT) and there was very little I could do about it. The yoghurt – it's a luxury I’m prepared to pay for. The tampons – a Western necessity I didn’t want to go without. Paying $5 for a $2 fare – not fair and not necessary. Cabs are not a luxury here – they are cheap and plentiful and (usually) pretty good and honest.

So what am I grateful for… I’ve learned again that lesson about money. You know, how ‘shoe money’ has a different value to ‘bill money’ (or in my case, cab money –v- yoghurt and sanitary wear dosh). But even when you break it down, money is money and everything has a value, even if it varies wildly around the globe. And I’m very grateful that my fave yog was in stock at Corner’s Deli – a reminder of home and a comfort food.