The hawkers were really quite forward and obviously knew how to make money. Even when you said "No, thank-you," they came back with "Maybe later." And woe unto the unwitting shopper who said "Maybe" in an effort to get rid of the seller, because they would be back later.
By my second day on the beach, I had pretty much how it down to a science, "No, thank you. No. Thank you. No thank you." They would eventually move on to the next sun worshipper who might be more willing to part with their own hard-earned dollars.
What can I say? It's not just that I'm cheap, but I didn't need a tacky string bracelet or to have my hair ripped out by it's roots. And even if I did need a good leg threading (and what Western woman on a beach doesn't?), I certainly didn't need one while I still had two days of smearing my legs with sun block and bug spray and jumping in the sketchy Cambodian coastal waters. The reason I refer to myself as a delicate flower is because I do have delicate skin. I bruise and blister and burn with the best of them.
But one young man was not going to take no. He weaseled his way past my defenses. Who knows? Maybe it had been a slow day and he really needed the sale. Maybe he thought I looked like an easy mark. Maybe he was just bored and needed to spice up his afternoon. He asked for my favorite color. Green. He liked green, too. He also liked blue, because it was the color of the ocean. I agreed that blue was indeed a nice color as well. He reached into his bag and pulled out some green and blue thread. Floss. String... And he said he was making me a bracelet.
Oh, no. I didn't want it. Yes, he pressed. I did. It was a friendship bracelet and he was making it for me for free. He wanted to show me that not everything in Cambodia was about money. Except we both knew he was lying.
Meanwhile, his friend came up and started harassing me about my leg hair, again. Now, I can be as vain as the next woman, and TC3 had submitted to a threading the day before. The idea of not having to shave for my Thai beach vacation was alluring, so I promised I would let her pull my hair out, but not until the next afternoon.
And then Bracelet Boy was back at it. He tied on the simple, braided friendship bracelet and started haranguing me about his shrimp and fish knotted key chains. They were as obnoxious and tacky as only beach souvenirs can be. I just had to buy one. It was the last day of his Chinese New Year school holiday, and he wouldn't be able to sell anything else. I just needed a shrimp. And look at the fish. He needed money for school. He wouldn't be there tomorrow.
Right. He dishes out the lies the Westerners want to believe and then we hand over a few dollars in shame since our governments have done so much (or so little) to cause (or alleviate) his country's problems. It's a time-honored scam. And he had me. He had me the moment he pulled out the floss to braid me a bracelet. There was no way I was getting away without purchasing a product.
Of course, school or no school, he was back out on the beach the next day pedaling his wares. Since I had my friendship bracelet on, we were friends. He gave me a hello when he saw me, and then shooed the other knotted-shrimp sellers away from me. I didn't bother to ask him about school. It seemed so beside the point.
I've still got my friendship bracelet on, too. Well, it's an anklet now, but you get the point.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Sihanoukville, Cambodia
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