The sight of new and different items on display and the excitement of open air markets and colorful shops makes shopping in Asia a unique and fun experience. Not only will you see goods that are different and hard to come by in the west, but you’ll find prices much different than those you’re accustomed to, and different from prices seen when traveling to other regions, like Europe.

In China, clothing costs about four or five times less than in European countries. However, the sizing system is much different than in the U.S. A woman who wears a size medium in the United States will find herself browsing the extra large section of the department store. It is wise to try everything on to make sure it fits before buying, and carefully consider the size of any clothing item you plan to purchase as a gift for someone else.

In India clothing can be had for about half the price that it would cost in European stores, if you know where to shop. For example, on Mumbai’s Fashion Street, surplus from the city’s clothing factories can scooped up at bargain prices.It is best to purchase clothing made by famous European designers in Europe. Taxes and duties on imported goods in Asian countries tend to drive the prices up. An exception is Hong Kong, where goods are not taxed and the prices are often comparable to the European prices.

Naturally, Asian goods of all kinds are considerably cheaper in Asian countries than in Europe. For example, Chinese chops, which are name stamps usually used with red ink, can be found in many shops catering to tourists for about $5. The purchaser’s name is normally carved into the chop at the store. The same item would cost around $40 outside of China.

Beautiful and unique jewelry can be purchased in Asia for bargain prices. Because of India’s strong diamond industry, diamond rings and earrings can be bought for less than half of what they would cost in Europe. For pearls, you would pay about five times more in Europe than in China for a strand of similar size and quality.

A massage in China will run about $10, where a similar massage in Europe will cost roughly $80. The Chinese have practiced massage techniques for thousands of years, and a genuine Chinese massage is extremely relaxing. Foot rubs are popular as well, especially for travelers who have spent long hours on their feet visiting temples and climbing several stories of stairs in pagodas.

A tailor made silk shirt in Hong Kong costs around $100. Beautiful silk fabric is available in Vietnam for around $3-$9 a yard, depending on the quality. Good quality silk fabric in China costs about $4.00 a yard. The fabric tends to be narrower than the standard 45 or 60 inch widths, so make sure to ask how wide it is before purchasing. The method of producing silk from the cocoons of silkworms was originally developed by the Chinese and remained a secret for hundreds of years. Eventually the technique became known and spread across Asia and Europe, but to this day China remains the leader in producing silk.

Remember that the prices listed above are guidelines. Prices will vary from shop to shop – expect to pay more at the store in the hotel lobby than the one tucked away on a side street. Also, in most Asian countries it is customary to bargain over prices and your skill at bargaining will determine the price you ultimately pay for your purchases.

John Riggin is Executive Editor for http://www.SeeYouInAsia.com the largest and most comprehensive US to Asia travel website. Where you’ll discover the best deals on flights, tours, hotels, cruises and more.

The morning starts with a bang or one bang after another, a series, a chorus – the same sound that lulled me to sleep the night before. Well, I smile to myself, after all it’s their country and they’re free to do as they like. How does it matter that most cities elsewhere have practically banned firecrackers?

I totter out of bed, thinking I’ll go for my morning walk, a habit that’s not been practiced for over three weeks, courtesy a broken rib, couretsy an evening of hard drinking, a huang jiu (house liquor, yellow in colour at a restaurant), bai jiu, the fiery white rice wine topped by swigs from a bottle of Chivas Regal. I was brought home (apartment at the university) drunk where I promptly crashed into my bed…yes crashed, and was left with a broken rib. Anyway, that was a few weeks ago…

I sit at my computer, checking my mail – there’s hardly any, other news sites – nothing of earthshaking importance and a chatsite where I meet new people, flirt and generally make friends fast and lose them faster with my sacrilegious pronouncements.

I spend the morning doing this and a little more of the same….Ahhh wait…CCTV 3, there’s a girl in a gypsy dress on what looks like a circus stage, walking a dog through her very pretty legs…hey, I think to myself, I too am a Dog (was born in the Dog Year) so why am I being denied the pleasure of weaving in and out of those legs. As if in response, she stops!

I sit and spend the morning thus, making friends and losing some and finally decide lunch can wait no longer. I walk down the four four flights of the hotel building where I and others of my ilk are housed. We, the so-called foreign teachers are on the top-floor, I guess, to ensure we can’t make a quick getaway. My apartment is cold. The airconditioners (with heating) stopped functioning many weeks ago. I complained to the FAO, they bought me an electrical heater. I suppose they didn’t consider me worthwhile investing on any more…they have me by the balls of my contract anyway and the contract says nothing about ensuring the aircons will work. So, here I am, freezing sometimes. The weather has been very cold, well below zero most days…

Anyway, I walk out and out the compound that houses the teachers and oficials’ residences, looking for a place to get some chow. Everything is closed. Everyone is celebrating the Spring Festival. I walk further down the road and come to a fandian (a small restaurant) that’s still open to custom. I order some cabbage (not the hot and sour one, I make clear to the waitress, a young thing with a bigger butt than most but an equally pleasant smile) and rice. I watch television while I wait for my meagre lunch to arrive and then eat quickly and leave. Outside, I walk past the numerous karaoke bars. Looks like everyone’s there, dressed in their best, smiling their prettiest. Young women in tight jeans through which my eyes can sometimes discern the indiscernible never fail to escape these lecherous eyes. Sometimes I wonder if my eyes are the busiest on earth. I wave at a few nodding acquaintances. Suddenly someone steps into my path, ‘Jack’ he says. I smile a smile that’s reserved for times when I know I am known but don’t know the knower myself. He fishes out a red pack of cigarettes…Chungwahs. Very expensive at about 50 to 80 a pack. He gives me one and I gratefully accept. It’s not polite to refuse offers of cigarettes here in China.

In any case, it would take me very little persuasion to accept a Chungwah though I often refuse others, and perhaps make secret enemies. I already have a lit cigarette in my hand and resist the temptation to stick the new one above my ear as so many do here and also in India. I don’t want a precious Chungwah to fall unceremoniously onto the spit-and-retch-washed pavement from where retrieval would be difficult and non-retrieval of a Chingwah equally painful. Pleasantries over, I make my way further down….and I see a family get off a bus and a young woman looking curiously at me and then suddenly calling out, ‘Jaaaaaack’. I look more closely. It’s a former student, and she’s back in Huainan from Shijiazhuang in Hebei to be with her family. She runs across the street, arms opened wide, her family trailing, a curious and confused expression on their faces as she comes straight into my arms. We hug..it feels warm in this season of frost, ice and snow. Passersby look even more curiously. We stand and talk for a while, exchanging telephone numbers and her father offers me a cigarette…I am about to say a polite no, when I notice…yes, another Chungwah. My lucky day, I smile to myself. They continue on their way, as the father says they must have me over for a meal. I nod gratefully…it’s nice to see a former student.

Further, into the main city square…i see more of what I saw at the karaoke bars…people…happy, smiling, chattering, shopping, spending. China is a giant at all times…during Spring Festival it’s like a giant dancing. People from Xinjiang, the ones with the small muslim white caps line the streets selling small pieces of meat kababs on sticks, little stands where kids and adults take aim and shoot at helpless balloons in an effort to win an apreciative word or look, electrically operated height-weight measuring machines, stalls selling preserved and sweetened colourful fruits on long sticks, smellly suasages also on little sticks. Everything seems to be on sticks, even girls’ legs in tight jeans look like sticks…i wonder what delicacies come on those!

I notice the heat…it’s the warmest day we’ve had in months and I’m sweating…i unzip my feather-lined hooded jacket to let in some fresh air. Others stare at me…they don’t like bearded men, I guess…only the homeless, the beggars, the tramps in China seem to have anything close to a beard…I carry on…until I return to my sanctuary, hot and sweating…

http://www.writingup.com/blog/oneinabillion
http://o3.indiatimes.com/kjack

Rajesh Kanoi (Jack) is a published writer, now living and working in China. Many of his short-stories, poems and articles have been published, including a book of short-stories, ‘Tales From China’ (Lipstick Publishing).

The idea of a Chinese Town was first conceived by Sir Stamford Raffles, who is the founder of Singapore. Stamford Raffles developed a plan to group the Chinese immigrants from China together for work and housing. This he feels would create a sense of community among the people of the same race and culture, and help them settle down quickly.

Some researchers have speculated that the shophouses was a fusion of the narrow-fronted houses that are a familiar sight in Amsterdam with the ones of Southern China, especially in Guangzhou and Fujian. (’Shophouses’ would be rows of shops that has an upper storey for residence, which usually resides the family and the owner of the shops.) Some see it as a duplicate from Raffles’ experience in Malaysia. His instructions to the Singapore Town Planning Committee in 1822 stated that houses should have a uniform type of front each having a verandah of a certain depth, open to all sides as a continuous and open passage on each side of the street. This probably led to the “five-foot way” that the shophouses in Chinatown are famous for.

In the old Chinatown, many hawkers lined up the busy streets to make a living and provided convenient meals for labourers working near the Singapore River. The streets were also famous for bullock carts, which gave the Chinese name “Niu Che Shui” to the present Chinatown. All kinds of businesses flourished as more Chinese immigrants arrived and more shops and warehouses were built nearby. But many buildings in Chinatown were destroyed during the Japanese occupation of Singapore in the Second World War, and there were some which were torn down because of excessive deterioration of the mostly wooden structures. In recent years, through the government’s conservation efforts, many of these buildings have been restored to their former charms, thus offering a unique window to the past, a glimpse at how the early Chinese settlers lived and toiled.

One of the things to do in Singapore is to visit the Chinatown, located at South Bridge Road. You can see photos and guide at www.platimumbooks.com
Ong Hui Woo
www.platimumbooks.com