Before boarding a boat on Ha Long Bay, we stopped at a pearl factory – the ideal place to buy pearls, eh? Travel books advise tourists to bargain when in Vietnam, but when I tried to bargain at the pearl factory, I had a close encounter of the woo-woo kind.
Our stop at the pearl factory was interesting and educational. A guide explained how they grow oysters at oyster farms that we passed on the way here from Hanoi. She told us about different types, how they grow and even breed oysters, and a lot more. Who knew there was so much to know about farming oysters to produce pearls?
Pearl Production 101
The highlight was observing a worker implanting tiny spherical balls into young oysters with surgical skill. If they skipped this step, they’d still get pearls, but they’d come out looking like lustrous, miniature potatoes, with no two shaped alike.
The implanted sphere, like a grain of sand, is an irritant to the oyster. The oyster deals with it by secreting nacre, coating the annoying intruder. Coat after coat is applied over time, resulting in a pearl.
After the demonstration, we were led in to a huge showroom where those who were so inclined could shop in a dazzling array of pearl jewelry.
Astutely recognizing the opportunity to score points with my Better Half, I was all in. It didn’t take long for her to find something she liked.
One of perhaps 30 salesgirls came over to help us. In no time, she was writing up an order. In Vietnam, you’re supposed to bargain, right? And for me, this was another chance to test out my extremely limited vietnamese.
Close Encounter of the Woo-Woo Kind
The salesgirl looked to be maybe 20 years old. She had started to write up the sales slip when I asked her in vietnamese if I could get a discount.
Upon hearing my question, she froze. She stopped writing and very slowly looked up at me. “What did you say?” She asked, speaking vietnamese.
I asked again if I could get a discount. Two other salesgirls hustled over. “What’s going on? They asked our salesgirl, who replied, “He speaks vietnamese!”
Two more salesgirls came over to get in on the action. Now it was a mini-event. They peppered me with (thankfully easy) questions. “Were you born in Vietnam? Are your parents Vietnamese? Did you marry a Vietnamese girl?”
“No, no, and no. So, do you guys offer discounts?” I tried to keep the conversation limited to the few things I sort of knew how to say.
The salesgirls who had come over thought the exchange was fun. Our salesgirl, not so much. She was trembling and looking at me like I was from another world – a world she wanted no part of.
No Discount Today!
When the final answer to the discount question was a unanimous “no,” I asked, “Not even a little one?” To which they all responded with astonishment and laughter. Everyone was laughing except for our little salesgirl. She looked like she was about to be ill.
The other salesgirls rushed off to tend to customers while ours finished writing up the order. The poor thing’s hand was trembling so much, she could barely write.
When our business was completed, I tried to explain to her, in english, that I’ve been trying to learn some vietnamese. That’s all. I’m pretty sure I didn’t convince her.
We’re out in the countryside here, where ghosts, spirits, and all manner of things woo-woo flourish in minds of locals – and in one distressed salesgirl in particular.
To be continued…
Note: Image at the top of this post is the pearl necklace I purchased on a sparkly background provided by istockphoto/ELIZABETH POLIASHENKO
