That Crazy White Girl

“Manda, by the time you leave Beijing you’re going to be known as that crazy white girl.”

So said my brother, and I’m afraid to say he’s probably correct. In the last few days I’ve been in Beijing I’ve gotten into more arguments than I care to remember with locals. Most of them have to do with them trying to rip me off and me not putting up with it – I am practically a local, after all, and I know how much prices should be! One taxi driver tried to charge me 200RMB for what would be a 30RMB cab ride! When I called him out on his bogus “deal” he had the audacity to be offended by the fact that I called his offer ridiculous (and that I flat-out called him a cheat).

Of course, not all has been crazy; I’ve had some lovely encounters with locals that remind me of the Beijing I’ve fallen in love with over the last year. I had one taxi driver who sang along to Beijing opera-style music in his car (I normally hate Beijing opera, but he sang along so happily that I couldn’t help but warm to that particular song). I had a few friends who befriended my brother and I when we went out to snack on 羊肉串 (chunks of lamb roasted on a stick with spices) for a midnight snack. But still, no matter how many wonderful people I meet, every time I call out someone attempting to cheat me I inevitably end up looking and sounding like the crazy one – I am the white girl shouting in Mandarin Chinese and giving locals a run for their money in bargaining, after all!

Cross-posted from breakthesky.net. Please leave any comments there.