Any laowai (foreigner) who has been in China for a while and has gone shopping will find that phrase very familiar. My husband had already been in Beijing for some time before the rest of the family moved here and on every visit back home in Singapore he would arrive loaded with stuff and enthrall us with stories about how one could shop till one dropped in Beijing's bustling markets. I was so psyched about this wonderful shopping paradise that I landed in Beijing determined to live out a stereotypical expat lifestyle, shopping, lunching and gyming et al.

More than a year down the road, I actually wince anytime anyone suggests a shopping trip to "check it out"…in other words, to "looka, look."

I am always amazed at the gusto with which I see Westerners of all hues bargain with those veteran shopkeepers in Yaxiu and Hongqiao markets. It takes stamina and patience--oodles of it. After all that haggling, they seem so pleased with their purchases. Never once has shopping and bargaining left me with that kind of pleasant feeling.

The first time I went to Hongqiao market I was just so overwhelmed by what was on display. How does one even take in all that stuff and zero in on what one wants? Even before I had sorted out that problem, there were the salesgirls with their in-your-face antics. I ended up looking at things I hadn't even dreamt of buying. Focus, I told myself. You need a pair of shoes, and I dragged myself to the shoe shops. After the selection came the toughest bit.

"How much? ''

"You my friend, I give u cheapah. 500 kuai (yuan)."

My better half looked distinctly bitter at this point and said,

"We live in Beijing, my friend. Tell me, how much?"

"Live in Beijing?'' a couple of the girls twittered. Obviously, our accents showed that we were pretty new in town.

"Hokay, 450 kuai."

Better-half now looked even more insulted and made an exaggerated gesture of impatience.

The salesgirl said, "Hokay, ni shuo." (You give me a price.)

Hubby by now was all geared up for the fight. "Nide dongxi, ni shuo." (Your stuff, you quote your price.)

My older boy started to look at his dad with respect. But he had not yet reckoned with how long all this was going to take.

The to-ing and fro-ing between the salesgirl and better-half went on for a good 30 minutes or so until we finally paid 50 kuai.

Phew! I thought, but hubby was still muttering. "We could have got it for 40," he grunted. I looked at the man. What had got into him, I wondered, but kept my thoughts to myself. But my son could hardly control himself. All that waiting around had taken its toll. "Dad, do we have to be so cheap?" he muttered. My husband gave him daggers. "You have no respect for money. Does 10 kuai mean nothing to you?"

"Oh God!" I thought to myself. The evening was ruined. I saw all the signs of a storm brewing--a long lecture on the "value of money'' countered by fierce retorts.

Why had I even looked for a pair of shoes? But I was new to Beijing and hardly knew where to go for what I needed.

But the real twist to this tale was yet to come. While the shoes felt comfortable enough in the shop I knew something was wrong from the pain in the heel I started feeling soon after wearing them for extended periods. It was on an outing to Beijing's suburbs that the sole finally gave way and I was horrified to find stuff that will not qualify for shoe material anywhere in the world. To this day I blame the painful heel spur that I now have on that disastrous pair of shoes, although my husband always points to his pair of 100 kuai shoes that have served him faithfully for three years and are still going strong.

The same story has been repeated time and time again. It is really wearing us down. Bargaining may be good fun when one is a tourist, but if one is here for some serious living, it is just a colossal waste of time and effort. I would much rather go to a fixed-price shop, no matter what the price. If it is something I can't afford, I will leave it, but at least I know what my money is buying. I have come to a state where no matter what price is quoted to me in the market-be it the foreign one or the "local" one-I am deeply suspicious. There is so much I want and need to buy, but everything has been put on hold until I can find a place that operates a fixed priced system and is honest and open about what it is selling.

I only hope I won't have to wait until it is time to take our flight out of Beijing on our next expat posting.