The Price of Tea in China

According to XE.com, today's exchange rate from the US Dollar to China's Renminbi (also known as "yuan" or "kuai") is 1 to 6.82. That makes travel pretty easy and, honestly, is one of my favorite things about China. You need to spend very little to live very well here.

I don't want to run through an entire list of what I bought (that would take approximately 19,000 words), since I did have to buy a second suitcase ($15) to get everything back to the States. But I do need to go over some my better purchases and ones that you might want to make, if you ever get over to Beijing.

First off, travel is hard. Plane, train and bus rides aren't good on your back. And, if you're like me and carry a man bag everywhere, your shoulders and neck can get messed up to. A massage is the answer and one of my little guilty pleasures no matter where in the world I am. For 98 yuan ($15), I had a beautiful, hour-long massage where my little Chinese masseur took me apart and put me back together again. It was ugly, she was violent, but after the dust settled, I was a new man.

Food is ridiculously cheap. My daily breakfast usually consists of an egg sandwich on fresh-made, nan-like bread or a few dumplings and a hard-boiled egg. In either case, I pay anywhere from 1 to 1.50 yuan... that's less than 20 cents in the US. Beat that, Dunkin' Donuts! And if you're paying more than $4 for a beer (in a very nice bar), then you're paying too much. Generally, it should cost between 10-15 yuan (under $2), unless you just bought it in a hutong's local shop... then you get a 20-ounce Tsingtao for 3 yuan ($1.50). Yes!

I'm not a big taxi guy, but there are times where I really don't feel like dealing with the subway here or it's late at night and I just want to get home. Thankfully for my wallet, I'm in Beijing - city of millions, most of them cabbies. These guys are everywhere and although the base fare starts at 10 yuan, I've never paid more than 90 ($12) for a ride. And that expensive one was coming in from the airport, where there are always extra charges. By comparison, my cab ride from Boston Logan to my apartment in Cambridge cost $28 before tip and took about a third of the time.

Luxurious escapes from China are, at times, necessary. I love mingling with locals and trying to see how they live, but there is a limit to how much Chinese food I can take, how many dirty serving trays I can see or how long I can go without a napkin (you'll only be given those in Western places or, on occasion, if you ask really nicely). Beijing, being the international hub that it is, has plenty of 5-star hotel bars to relax in, sip a whiskey and smoke a cigar (all for under $20). There are also dozens of ex-pat gathering places from diners (Grandma's Kitchen) to cafes (The Bookworm) where you can drop the seemingly exhorbitant sum of 100 yuan to get fresh, Western delicacies for less than 15 dollars. Then, once your stomach's been filled with reminders of home and your mind has been refreshed, you can head back out into the city streets, recharged and ready to once again soak it all in.

The cheap shopping opportunities around Beijing are well documented. But what I didn't expect to find were several tailors around the city, offering high-quality, hand-made suits and dress shirts. Last month, I visited Lisa Tailor, which is located on the 5th floor of the 3.3 Mall in the Sanlitun area. Apparently, this particular shop is well-known and recommended by many concierges around the city. I wasn't expecting to buy anything, but was completely floored by the prices - 1,000 yuan for suits, 1,300 for tuxedos, 80-150 yuan for shirts and ties for 30 and under. Put in Chinese prices, that sounds expensive, but that meant I could be spend $150 for a suit, $180 for a tux and about $10 a shirt.

If you know me, you know I can't resist shopping and I can't fight off bargains. I walked out of there with an order for a pin-stripe suit, a black tuxedo, five shirts, two ties and four sets of cufflinks. That alone might have been worth the flight over here.

So, while travel in the UK and Europe continues to get more and more difficult as the dollar's value free-falls, it's nice to know there are still places where a 25-year-old, unemployed kid can come and live like a king.

Xiexie, Beijing!

My girl Candy, sizing me up.

Rocking the Chucks with the tux. Incidentally, I bought those shoes at the Silk Market for $10 (and probably overpaid).

An open letter to the futon industry...

Dear furniture maker,

I'm a cost-conscious consumer looking to furnish his apartment with a new couch.

Now, being a young professional who doesn't have a ton of money, probably will move again in the next 18 months or so, doesn't have an unlimited amount of space and enjoys hosting out-of-state-guests, I do have some specifications as to what I'm looking for.

I need something cheap, but well-made (since I can't afford to go buy something to replace a broken couch in six months). It needs to be portable, or as close to it as possible. You see, I live on the second floor and have a habit of living in places that aren't on the ground floor, which makes moving heavy objects a pain in the butt, back, knees and, strangely, my 4th vertebrae. My living room is big, but the stairwell is not, so a ten-foot couch is out of the question as is anything over-stuffed or La-Z. Last, I do enjoy passing out on my furniture, clutching empty stemware or a tumbler and/or hosting guests, so I want something to sleep on.

After much extensive research (I napped on a lot of the products at your store, even going as far as to live on one particularly inviting chaise lounger for three days), I've decided that what I need is a futon.

My question for you, Mr. or Ms. Furniture Maker is as follows: Why are futons as expensive as a traditional sofa? Shouldn't the do-it-yourself installation, lesser quality of cushions and overall impression of poverty and/or cheap bastardness that they convey lower the price? I simply do not see any reason why I should purchase a futon when it costs $500, especially when I can have someone deliver me a real piece of furniture for the same amount.

I really want a futon. I genuinely do. I need something that folds flat, but as my last experience in lifting a full-size sofa resulted in a month of traction and nine more of intense physical therapy, those are out of the question.

But I don't want to pay more than $300, which unfortunately leaves me in the position of having to find something used on Craigslist (which probably is infested with lice and has a variety of colorful stains) or putting together something that comes in a box, looks like a Boy Scout-made pine fence and has a mattress the same thickness as my down comforter and is about as comfortable as a medieval torture device.

C'mon, Manufacturer person! Give us starving artist and young professionals and students and cheapskates a break here. Don't push your futon prices out of our reach. Fold them in half.

It won't be hard. In fact, it will be a soft and cushy process, especially for you who already must be comfortable in your over-sized, leather office chair. Cut costs in manufacturing... I don't care how, as long as I have a nice, micro-fiber cushion to prop my feet upon. Ship out production to Thailand, the kids in the factories there work for pennies and their tiny fingers make sure the stitching is hardly noticeable. Or, perhaps you could provide us with the solution for the burgeoning illegal immigrant crisis. Hire all those former day-laborers and put them into the futon manufacturing business. Heck, you can keep the "Made in the USA" sticker for the box and pay them in mattresses.

If this sounds cold, then it's because I don't turn the thermostat past 55 to save money. If this truth is too hard for you, it's because I typed this on my floor. If you're not comfortable with my solutions, then it's because I'm not comfortable in a futon-less living room.

Free the futon and lower prices! Just because oil's over $100 a barrel now doesn't mean futons have to be $100 a foot. Just do it... it's for the greater good of bottoms everywhere.

Sincerely,

Mike the Couchless

Mike's link of the day...

For all you shoppers out there (where my girls at?!), I bring you the Link of the Day for February 13th, 2008.

(Side note: I'm not doing an LOTD every day, only when I feel like it. So you'd better enjoy it when it comes around, okay?)

My sister was watching Fox News yet again the other night. I think she does it sadistically, because I grunt out little squeaks of pain every time she flips the channel over to it. But they actually had a story that was somewhat interesting and useful. Of course, in typical fashion, they buried it in their D block that night, but whatever.

Sick of clicking through dozens of websites to find the cheapest price for your next online purchase? Just check out PriceGrabber.com, oh ye of the instant gratification ilk, the next time you want to make a 2 a.m. impulse buy.

For example, I just bought a new digital voice recorder, because I'm nerdy like that. I was poking Best Buy's site and found one I liked. It was about $85. I then spent a half an hour Googling, trying to find it at other online retailers, before purchasing it from Amazon for $65. However, had I just plugged it in to PriceGrabber, they would've shown me this in about 30 seconds and I wouldn't have wasted my time hunting. And the price would have been virtually same.

C'est la vie.

No, PriceGrabber didn't pay me (but I would be open to it). I'm just spreading the word for you, trying to keep an eye out for your wallet. That's your LOTD.

More successful friends...

So, if you're like me, that last $20 of Christmas money has been burning a hole in your pocket. Or the anticipation of vast refunds from the IRS has got you fixed with the spending bug...

If so, then please do yourself a favor and buy the next great American memoir to hit bookshelves - "Behind the Blue-Star Banner."

Not only is it written by one of my best friends and former roommates (which was reason enough for me to buy it, and, frankly, should be for you!), but it's a terrific read. Michelle's writing full of down-to-earth humor coupled with moments of deep poignancy and it resonates with her readers from page one.

Four years after 9/11, Michelle found herself 23-years-old, married, pregnant and about to experience a winter alone in Alaska, as her husband flew out to Iraq with the 172nd Stryker Brigade. With only a growing baby and an overactive beagle to keep her company, Michelle experienced the life of a military wife trapped on the tundra - living in-55 degree temperatures, waiting anxiously for monthly calls and counting down the days to her baby's birth and husband's return.

Her story is one shared by thousands of women across the country. Now, for the first time, their voices are being heard.

Pre-order a copy, okay? I'll get her to sign it for you and everything... here's that link again!

Thanks guys.

Addendum...

In case anyone's reading this and wondering how the follow-up to this post (where I talked about trying to find a hat) went, I was successful.

Last week, I went to Urban Outfitters and tried on hats for half an hour before settling on the one pictured (left). As you can see, I've gotten much more ruggedly handsome and am even capable of growing stubble.

(Seriously, though, same hat, although mine's navy blue).

I had some reservations about going for the beanie-with-a-brim, because they generally look really stupid on me. I have an odd-shaped head, I guess. It's fairly wide, but it isn't too tall. So hats will either cover my eyes or poke up on the top of my head. I hate both and, either way, it looks ridiculous.

But this hat fits pretty well (probably because it's closer to children's size, than regular) and matches up with either a casual jacket or my dressier wool coat. It also covers my ears all the way, too, which is nice since my other hat doesn't and they tend to freeze solid during my 1-mile morning walk from my apartment to the T.

So, that's the updated. Hat bought, crisis averted. And all it cost me was a month of trying things on and $9.99.

Hooray!

Party jeans...

So, I was out shopping the other day - just kind of looking around (for a hat, incidentally). I always like to check out the clearance racks, since I'm a poor, starving-artist type, so I was poking around in the backs of all the stores.

It's always hit-or-miss on those racks. Sometimes, my size works in my favor. I'm not a big guy (no comments, ok?), so I can sometimes luck out on shirts. Smalls will work, as long as I'm not having a fat day or something. Mediums are better, but they're harder to find since they're one of the more popular sizes.

Pants, though, are tougher. Yes, it's hard enough to find a decent pair of jeans, as it is. But finding one on clearance? It's easier to find a Yankee fan with a 5th grade education. (Sox 2007 World Champs, baby!)

So, when I spotted a pair in American Eagle in my size (32/30) and in the low-rise cut I like, since it means the legs are shorter and I won't be stepping on myself constantly, I had to try them on. Didn't matter that I can't close my jean drawer, even though I just donated four pairs to The Salvation Army. You just don't pass up a good pair of jeans, right?

They fit. My butt looked great. I'd post a picture for you, but let's not get all conceited, right?

AND they were $20. Un-be-lievable. Of course I had to buy them.

The thing is, I had a sneaking suspicion that there was something oddly familiar about these jeans. They fit too well, almost. The casually destroyed portions sort of aligned to a pair I bought back in August. The coloring looked a little different, but...

"Ah, whatever," I thought, "I'm buying."

I did. And then I took them home, laid them on my bed and pulled out the pair I thought they resembled. They were exactly the same.

I had just bought the same pair of jeans. Same size, same cut, same frayed pockets, same everything.

For a moment, I thought about taking them back to the store. You wouldn't buy two of the same shirt, right? Why would you buy two pairs of the same jeans, then? But, since they cost just $20, I couldn't bring myself to return them. I cut off the tags, folded them up and put them in my drawer.

It got me thinking, though... a good pair of jeans is so hard to find. You try on a dozen pairs and find one you want to buy, if you're lucky. And, if you're even luckier, they don't cost an entire week's salary. Why don't we, when we find a pair we like, buy two? Or three?

Think about it... pretty much every pair out there has been "casually destroyed," giving it different markings and coloration than other pairs - even ones from the same batch. Jeans all wear differently, too. Colors fade with washing, holes appear in different places. The more you wear them, the more different they'll appear.

I don't know if I'll start buying multiple pairs of jeans. Actually, I almost definitely won't. But it's an idea...

I'll let you know later on if it's turned out to be a good one.

Man shopping...

No, I am not in the hunt for a new man. Or an old man. Or any man at all.

I just want to talk about shopping as a male in American society.

The other day, I was feeling kind of down. Probably because I was at work; it tends to have that affect, sometimes. Just a mild wave of depression. It happens occasionally when I get to thinking that my life has become a routine and I'm just doing the same thing day in, day out. I start to feel hemmed-in and trapped, in need of shaking things up a bit.

Unlike Dane Cook, I don't feel an urge to just dance it out...

Usually, what makes me feel better, is shopping.

I guess the natural guy reaction would be to kill something. Or rip a fart. Or do a sky-dump onto a car. Sure, all those things are a blast, but I prefer to save them for my Friday nights. And this was a Wednesday...

On hump days, I shop.

I took a long lunch break, went down the street to Urban Outfitters, tried a few things on, and wound up buying the pictured Paul Frank sweater (now 1/2 off!). Good times... I love sweaters and I love buying myself stuff. Works out all around.

Here's the thing, though... It's tough shopping as a guy. We just don't have the same options as you ladies do. Eighty percent of retail options cater strictly those the sans-penis crowd. For the most part, we guys are limited to a small corner of one of "your" retail stores or denied shopping options all together. For G-O-L-F stores (gentlemen only, ladies forbidden), we have:

1) Express Men
2) Brooks Brothers
3) Condom World

...and that's it.

I find that extremely annoying, because it cuts down my fashion options. Since all guys are shopping at the same eight stores, we need to adjust our style to fit into one of the following categories:

"I am a lemming and my girlfriend likes the cologne"
- Shops at AE, Abercrombie and Hollister. Feels need to advertise said companies by wearing sweat shirts that scream the stores' name and/or takes racial slurs to a new, wearable level. Still rocks cargo pants and distressed trucker hats.

"Do I set off your gay-dar?"
- Shops at H&M, but only at the one that actually has a men's section. Also wore Express Men until they closed closest location. Probably owns three skinny ties. I wind up here...

"24 is the new 50."
- Shops at Gap, Banana Republic and J. Crew... wears the same outfits his grandfather does, but only minus the crew socks. Wants you to think he enjoys sailing. (Okay, maybe I'm here, too)

"My mom still dresses me."
- Old Navy, TJ Maxx and Sears. 'nuff said.

Blah... I'm pretty frustrated with it all. I have (some) money. I like to look good. I really heart shoes, but I'm S.O.L. as a consumer. Yeah, you girls have to try on 40 pairs of jeans before you find one that fits, but at least you have the option of choice! You don't know how good you have it.

Of course, we don't really deserve it, either...

Example:
I was in the mall last week, just looking around and shopping with my sister. I saw this guy standing at one of the sweater tables. He was picking one up from the pile, trying it on, snapping a shot of himself with his cell phone, looking at it and then moving to the next option. In this manner, he was able to try on six shirts without having to move or look at a mirror.

No one else thought this was unusual.

Maybe having shopping options is a privilege, not a right? In which case, thanks to the sweater and cell guy, we haven't earned it.