Outside Beijing, about an hour’s drive, I began to see the Great
Wall of China. It peaks in and out of the rolling hills and its
iconic image is unmistakable. High enough to keep enemies out
and wide enough to ride horses along and drive carts several
abreast, it’s an impressive structure.
But when I found out that much of it had been destroyed over the
years and I was walking on reconstruction, I wanted to see the real
thing. I walked right to the end to a portion that crumbled down a
dozen feet down into the countryside, below the snaking hills
where the tourists couldn’t see.
Here, on the real rubble of the Great Wall, I encountered a
Mongolian-looking group of four men in unmistakable fur jackets
and hats. With gestures and facial expressions, one of these men
identified himself as a used-wristwatch salesman. I looked his item
over. It was a Russian-made watch of ill-defined quality but the
markings would make it a great conversation piece.
As is usual in these settings (as if negotiating on the rubble of the
Great Wall is usual), we switched currencies a few times to add to
the confusion. Normally, when someone who is used to dealing in
several currencies reaches the best price s/he can, s/he then
switches currencies to extract a slightly better deal.
Finally, we arrived at the best price the Mongolian watch trader
would take. Then I switched currencies one last time. I switched to
the Cartier copy watch I had bought in Bangkok. A real Cartier
costs about $5,000. My trading partner was very interested. Did he
know this was a copy, worth about what his cheap Russian watch
was worth? Did he think I considered the Russian watch extremely
valuable? I couldn’t be sure, but we ended up agreeing to an even
trade for the watches.
But just before the actual trade, I asked my partner to tell me
how much his had watch cost him. (I say partner, because, as
Adam Smith has pointed out, he couldn’t be an adversary if we
were both getting what we wanted.) After facial expressions,
gestures and hesitation, he let on that the watch was worth
US $25. I then told him my watch was worth US $17. He seemed
very disappointed—not just in the bad deal, but because I now
wouldn’t trade with him.
And me? I won on most counts. I had a great copy watch I wore
for years. I saw the real Great Wall. I passed the time in a more
authentic way than most tourists did that day. And I still get to tell
the story of how I outsmarted a Mongolian watch merchant. What
an expanded negotiation pie!
The only thing I lost out on was the watch itself—a small factor.
