You Must Pay Money for Things in China

Today, after working out at the gym, I am dying to get something to drink, so I go to the Watson's (a chain drugstore) around the corner. As I am about to pay for my drink and a box of band-aids, which in total probably costs about four US dollars, the employee says to me in heavily accented English: "You must pay MONEY!"

He says this to me again. I think to myself, this is probably why I am able to make money as an English teacher in China.

I am thirsty and tired, living in a foreign country. It's late. I want to go home and write in my blog and eat dinner. And this guy is telling me I have to actually pay money.

I don't get it. Isn't that the deal? You go to a store to get something, and you give them money for it?

Has there been a rash of foreigners walking into their store, demanding merchandise without paying for it? Is this employee traumatized by that? It certainly sounds like it.

So, in a very un-Buddha-like way, I say to him in Chinese: "You want me to pay money? Do you think I am so dumb as to think I don't have to pay for these?"

He then tells me that he cannot accept credit cards at this register, and I realize that he meant to say that he can only accept "cash" (not "money") at his register. This realization does not exactly bring a wave of Buddha-like compassion in me. I think to myself, would he tell a Chinese person that he can't use a credit card for a $4 purchase?

I feel like I'm being discriminated against, and I probably am.

I realize, even though his English is bad, he is just trying to help me. I decide to give him some advice. "If you tell foreigners 'You must pay me MONEY!', they will not understand you because "money" is not the word for xianjin (cash)."

The people watching this interchange are not entertained. It's late and they want to get home, too. So, I cut my lesson short, and get on the subway home.

As I am getting on, a man starts pushing me, getting a little frustrated as the car is quite full and he wants a little room to stand. But then he looks at my face and notices that I'm a foreigner. "Sorry, sorry," he says apologetically.

"That's all right," I answer him, in English, happy that I'm almost home.