Ruili sits on the China/Myanmar border in the remote south-west corner of Yunnan province. It’s a scenic 7 hour bus trip south from Dali along a modern road that’s an engineering marvel in places with its long mountain tunnels, and sweeping highway sections bolted to the side of the steep mountainside and supported by sky-high concrete columns rising from the valley floor below. Like Xishuangbanna, Ruili is warm and has a slightly south-east Asian feel to it. Just the place to get over the bad cold I’ve been trying to shake off for the past week. The town is larger and more modern than we expected and has a lively commercial centre befitting its border status.
Just out of town is the Jiegao Border Checkpoint through which packed lorries and carts transport all manner of goods between China and Myanmar. We spent an interesting afternoon out at the checkpoint last Saturday; we peered through the crossing into Myanmar and watched the Burmese and Chinese people coming and going, but not having Burmese visas we could not make the crossing ourselves. We spent most of our time browsing through the many border shops. Jewellery is particularly prominent here with large amounts of Burmese jade, rubies and sapphires coming through the checkpoint on their way to jewellery stores throughout China. We were in the market for a few small stones ourselves, so we had to run the gauntlet of the trying sales pitches of the sellers. In one shop sporting a large variety of gems the shop-keeper eventually led us through a small backdoor into another room that looked just like the first, except here, according to the seller, was the “real” stuff. Talk about smoke and mirrors! The items here did look good though (to our admittedly untrained eyes), and after a long and exhausting period of haggling in which both sides employed all their wiles, we closed a deal on three small sapphire and ruby rings. We then shared a taxi back into Ruili with a Burmese family who had just come through the crossing. Like many of the Burmese women we saw, the woman in the taxi with us wore straw-coloured paint on her face, apparently a traditional adornment.
The next day, while pounding the streets of Ruili, we checked out a few of the Burmese jewellery markets around town. At one, a group of four sarong-clad Burmese men sitting on the ground at the market entrance sprang to their feet as we entered and invited us to go with them to see some “good” jewellery. On a whim, we followed them across the road away from the market, down a winding alley through what was obviously a Burmese residential neighbourhood, up two flights of timber stairs and along a balcony that led into a house. It was the residence of one of the men. His children played outside while his wife hastily threw a white cloth over the kitchen table and the men explained that they were honest Burmese jewellery merchants in China on revolving three-month work permits. They handed us their Chinese-issued documents to back up their claims. Then, as if by magic, they proceeded to conjure up jewellery from thin air. The table was soon littered with jade stone and jade jewellery pieces, and unset, faceted sapphires, spinels and rubies. It all looked beautiful but as neither of us could really tell the difference between a ruby and a bloodied glass chip from a broken beer bottle, there was a large question of trust hanging over our conversation with the merchants.
We decided that we would leave either having been ripped off for not too many Yuan or with a good deal in our pockets, so after interminable discussion on the finer points of the gems laying before us and when the inevitable subject of price finally reared its ugly head, we quickly counter-offered at 10% of the asking price on a take it or leave it basis, though not couched as starkly as that. On hearing our response, one of the merchants became very agitated, jerking back on his chair and drawing his index finger across his throat, a gesture I interpreted as meaning he was thinking that we were cutting his throat, although in retrospect he was possibly indicating what he would like to do with ours. In the event, however, after much protestation regarding the absolute impossibility of such a measly offer being accepted, our offer was accepted and a jade bangle and a faceted sapphire and ruby changed hands across the table. The trader then touched our money seven times on the shoulders in the room, apparently an invocation of good luck, and we took our leave shortly afterwards still on reasonably good terms with the merchants (although for an instant I imagined one of them muttering under his breath, “You two just stay out of Burma!”)
Reflecting on the experience later, we believed that they were indeed honest merchants doing it tough in a very difficult, hopelessly over-supplied market where, jewellery being what it is, trust is in short supply. For our part, though, we would never have been prepared to pay the initial asking price and we were at a great disadvantage expertise-wise in assessing the quality of the gems. Hopefully it was a fair deal for both parties with no-one having had their throat cut, not even metaphorically.
According to our guide book, Ruili is a town with a past. Apparently it was once a wild place with seedy karaoke bars and casinos, and the point of arrival of high-grade Burmese heroin bound for Hong Kong and elsewhere. Along with it came the social and health problems of injecting drug use, prostitution and HIV infection. But a vigorous crackdown by the authorities and timely executions of drug dealers have apparently done a lot to clean the place up and these days it seems as peaceful, safe and law-abiding as anywhere else in China. We certainly had an enjoyable, hassle-free time here and left with a favourable impression of Ruili.
Just out of town is the Jiegao Border Checkpoint through which packed lorries and carts transport all manner of goods between China and Myanmar. We spent an interesting afternoon out at the checkpoint last Saturday; we peered through the crossing into Myanmar and watched the Burmese and Chinese people coming and going, but not having Burmese visas we could not make the crossing ourselves. We spent most of our time browsing through the many border shops. Jewellery is particularly prominent here with large amounts of Burmese jade, rubies and sapphires coming through the checkpoint on their way to jewellery stores throughout China. We were in the market for a few small stones ourselves, so we had to run the gauntlet of the trying sales pitches of the sellers. In one shop sporting a large variety of gems the shop-keeper eventually led us through a small backdoor into another room that looked just like the first, except here, according to the seller, was the “real” stuff. Talk about smoke and mirrors! The items here did look good though (to our admittedly untrained eyes), and after a long and exhausting period of haggling in which both sides employed all their wiles, we closed a deal on three small sapphire and ruby rings. We then shared a taxi back into Ruili with a Burmese family who had just come through the crossing. Like many of the Burmese women we saw, the woman in the taxi with us wore straw-coloured paint on her face, apparently a traditional adornment.
The next day, while pounding the streets of Ruili, we checked out a few of the Burmese jewellery markets around town. At one, a group of four sarong-clad Burmese men sitting on the ground at the market entrance sprang to their feet as we entered and invited us to go with them to see some “good” jewellery. On a whim, we followed them across the road away from the market, down a winding alley through what was obviously a Burmese residential neighbourhood, up two flights of timber stairs and along a balcony that led into a house. It was the residence of one of the men. His children played outside while his wife hastily threw a white cloth over the kitchen table and the men explained that they were honest Burmese jewellery merchants in China on revolving three-month work permits. They handed us their Chinese-issued documents to back up their claims. Then, as if by magic, they proceeded to conjure up jewellery from thin air. The table was soon littered with jade stone and jade jewellery pieces, and unset, faceted sapphires, spinels and rubies. It all looked beautiful but as neither of us could really tell the difference between a ruby and a bloodied glass chip from a broken beer bottle, there was a large question of trust hanging over our conversation with the merchants.
We decided that we would leave either having been ripped off for not too many Yuan or with a good deal in our pockets, so after interminable discussion on the finer points of the gems laying before us and when the inevitable subject of price finally reared its ugly head, we quickly counter-offered at 10% of the asking price on a take it or leave it basis, though not couched as starkly as that. On hearing our response, one of the merchants became very agitated, jerking back on his chair and drawing his index finger across his throat, a gesture I interpreted as meaning he was thinking that we were cutting his throat, although in retrospect he was possibly indicating what he would like to do with ours. In the event, however, after much protestation regarding the absolute impossibility of such a measly offer being accepted, our offer was accepted and a jade bangle and a faceted sapphire and ruby changed hands across the table. The trader then touched our money seven times on the shoulders in the room, apparently an invocation of good luck, and we took our leave shortly afterwards still on reasonably good terms with the merchants (although for an instant I imagined one of them muttering under his breath, “You two just stay out of Burma!”)
Reflecting on the experience later, we believed that they were indeed honest merchants doing it tough in a very difficult, hopelessly over-supplied market where, jewellery being what it is, trust is in short supply. For our part, though, we would never have been prepared to pay the initial asking price and we were at a great disadvantage expertise-wise in assessing the quality of the gems. Hopefully it was a fair deal for both parties with no-one having had their throat cut, not even metaphorically.
According to our guide book, Ruili is a town with a past. Apparently it was once a wild place with seedy karaoke bars and casinos, and the point of arrival of high-grade Burmese heroin bound for Hong Kong and elsewhere. Along with it came the social and health problems of injecting drug use, prostitution and HIV infection. But a vigorous crackdown by the authorities and timely executions of drug dealers have apparently done a lot to clean the place up and these days it seems as peaceful, safe and law-abiding as anywhere else in China. We certainly had an enjoyable, hassle-free time here and left with a favourable impression of Ruili.
