My view from the shower |
Entrance to Babi Guling |
We pack our things, and call Nick to take us to one of the stops that Shimou had wanted since we arrived: Babi Guling. Nick works in Ubud, and did well by us when we first arrived, so why not? Plus, he brought us to the coolest places! On to Babi Guling: after considering what happens as a result of this particular stop, I'm glad we did it on the final day. The cabbie who dropped us the day before said it would be $40 to the airport (Shimou swears it was $30). We knock back our coffees and hop into the cab.
Babi Guling is Indonesian suckling pig, I think. I was never quite clear on what it was, but I know Shimou was very excited about trying it since the last time she came. I figured we should at least try to fit it in for brunch. It was good, but not really my thing, though she really liked it. I think eating fried pork skin to be kind of… uh, gross, but to each their own. I like when others like the stuff I don't, and vice versa - we each get more of what we want.
Scooters are Popular here |
I’m actually not really sure I want this thing, but no prices are listed anywhere, forcing me to ask. Starting price: $120,000 ($12 AUD). Ah, that’s alright. I’ll look around and come back. Immediately, she starts dropping the price.
“First customer! Lucky, lucky! you’re good luck, 80,000!”
“No, that’s alright, I’m just going to look around,” I gently decline, attempting to place the item back
“Ok, ok, 60,000” she says, blocking my hand from putting it down. Yeah, 50% off sounds doable. Final Price: $60,000.
Shimou and I bump into one another just after I sneak the purchase into my messenger bag. She’s worried she won’t find anything I like, but I'm not concerned. I still want to find something to put inside the spheroid. "Don't follow me" she instructs.
A semi-covered stall |
Across the cramped hallway, past the extremely bored-looking woman resting head-on-hand-on-knee, I bend closer to a pair of earrings. I had given her a pair earlier that she seemed to like, and I know what colours she likes to wear. Let’s see if my taste holds up. Looking at one pair of stretched droplet earrings, silver, the bored woman comes over and tries to upsell me to another, larger pair that look exactly the same. She’s asking $180,000. Almost double our original limit, I'm willing to walk. They could be a good size to fit in the box, but not for that price. I'm legitimately trying to walk away, and she’s aggressively pushing me. She asks a counter price, leading me to say 90k, 50% off. She balks at it, but after enough insistence that I'm leaving, she finally says she'll part with it for $100,000. Sweet deal.
The whole situation made me think of two things:
- Nick told us that the average worker in a cafe would make 50,000Rp per day. That’s $5 AUD, or about 4.78 CAD / 3.66 USD at time of writing. The average rent for a mediocre apartment is round 1 million Rp per month. Knowing this, I consider how much this woman made off my sale. Was I taking advantage? Doubtful, since she wouldn't have accepted the offer. Suppose she bought the earrings at 80k. At the price I bought, she made 20k, which is 2/5 of a daily wage of someone at a cafe, and she did so within 5 minutes. Sure, if another guy came along and took the initial price, she could have made 100k instead of 20k. 20 is better than 0.
- A story I heard a few times over the years about an American business negotiating with a Japanese business. I don't remember the exact details, but the broad strokes go something like this: The Americans want to hire the Japanese to manage some aspect of their business and set a price. The Japanese simply don't react. The Americans interpret this negatively, and immediately start back-pedalling, raising the amount they'd be willing to pay. The Japanese still don't react. The Americans end up raising it to the point that their margin is dangerously low and say it's their final offer. The Japanese accept. It was a cultural misunderstanding - the Americans were used to negotiating with other Americans, which would be a continual back-and-forth discussion that would more likely be on the side of heated than frigid. In that circumstance, silence meant disapproval. The Japanese, however, were contemplating. They wanted to fully consider the prospect before coming back with a response, but were not given enough time to think. I’m sure it didn't take long for them to realize saying nothing was a formidable strategy.
Best shot I could get while driving on the highway |
At the airport, we said farewell to Nick and grabbed a picture with him. We wished each other well, and wandered through airport security, chugging all the water we had been carrying up to that point. The flight itself took off shortly after we caught the bus from the terminal to the plane. I taught Shimou the basics of chess, and she taught me some more vocabulary in mandarin. During the turbulence, I would distract her by asking questions about fond memories or about her favourite things. This was as much to distract her as it was me, really. There’s really nothing you can do at those times, anyway.
We land, spend some time in the duty free, and change to warmer clothes. Lee and Ella graciously picked us up, and we snagged Joy on the way home. Around this time, I’m starting to get painful cramps that keep getting stronger. I figure it’s just from eating garbage and sitting uncomfortably for the past half day. Wrong.
I spend some of night groggily editing a post for the next day with chattering teeth. The rest is spent between the toilet, and shivering under several layers of thick blankets until I can stop my teeth chattering long enough to fall asleep***.
*It’s actually called the Ubud Market, but I like the term Bazaar and will stick with it for pun reasons.
**Japan's cool, but I'm not obsessed with it.
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