A pearl of a find

Stephen Bloom keeps a sharp eye on the pearls presented by Bai Rufang (right) at Fanghua Pearls & Jewelry in Hongqiao Market. Liu Jun

At 5 pm last Monday, after spending eight hours comparing silvery, pinkish, golden and green-hued pearls, I was becoming dizzy. But I was determined to find a present for my mother for her birthday.

"If it's for your mother, you must give her a better one," coaxed Cai Meimei, a persuasive 20-year-old, from East China's Zhejiang Province who joined her family's pearl business at Beijing's Hongqiao Market four years ago.

Fair enough, but for the life of mine I just could not tell the difference between strands priced in hundreds of yuan and those costing thousands.

From a glass-topped display case, Cai took out a hank with blue tassels at both ends, its pearls gleaming invitingly, and my dilemma was complete.

Most pearl dealers on the third floor of Beijing's famed "pearl market" near the Temple of Heaven are women in their 20s from Zhejiang, known for as much for the business acumen of its people as for its supply of freshwater pearls.

I saw a slim chance of outwitting Cai in any negotiations and just hoped I could get a

With these novel spring designs, Fanghua Pearls & Jewelry hopes to convert more Chinese to pearls.

decent deal.

"If you really want it, I can buy one for my wife so she can give us a 'special' price," offered Stephen Bloom, a visitor from the United States whose quest to learn about pearls had brought him to this market with me.

Bloom, a professor of journalism at The University of Iowa in Iowa City, has been researching pearls for the past two years, for his upcoming book Tears of Mermaids.

At this point, he was down on one knee on the market's cold cement floor, rolling the string of pearls Cai had offered back and forth on a stool to test if they were perfectly round and make sure they did not wobble.

"Each time I hold pearls in my hands, I start sweating: It's totally natural," said Bloom. "I have to find out why people will spend $50,000 on an accident of nature."

Bloom has been tracking this accident each step of the way from those who cultivate the pearls to those who buy them. He has found it a fascinating process that reveals much of how the global economy works.

Bloom's fascination with pearls goes back to his childhood; he remembers watching his mother take out her modest pearl necklace on special occasions, just once or twice a year. He recalled how she would fumble with the clasp and how his father would step in to help.

"The pearl signified an event of importance to a middle class family," said Bloom.

But his idea of writing the story of pearls as a kind of "non-fiction detective story" originated in another experience, involving tuxedos.

Years ago, as a newspaper reporter in Dallas, Texas, Bloom had a tux rental shop track

Cai Meimei keeps each pearl in place with double knots at Beijing's Hongqiao Market. Liu Jun

the comings and goings of one specific suit over an entire year. His resulting article followed the tux wherever its 50 or so customers had taken it from weddings to Caribbean cruises. A dry cleaning between each use removed dirt and sometimes vomit, and once even bloodstains that never were explained.

"I want to look at an inanimate object and give it life," said Bloom of his pearl saga.

Besides his contemporary research, Bloom has much historical material to dig into. Among the famous pearl wearers was Egyptian queen Cleopatra, who once dropped a singular pearl earring into wine, which destroyed it, to show off her wealth.

The coffin of Empress Dowager Cixi (1835-1908), de facto ruler of China in the late 19th century, was found brimming with pearls when tomb raiders found it in 1928.

She had a huge jewel in her mouth, which some stories say consisted of two pearls that shone cold green at night. As soon as the treasure was extracted, so the tale goes, the dowager's well-preserved flesh immediately decayed and the fierce matriarch who had relied on pearl powder to remain youthful, shrunk down to a skeleton.

While most young Chinese are yet to think of pearls as a first-choice accessory, pearls have been popular with foreigners for years.

"More than 90 percent of my customers are foreigners," said Bai Rufang, 38, president of Fanghua Pearls & Jewelry, one of China's leading pearl retailers. "Everybody knows me and my staff."

In 1995, when former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher visited Hongqiao, she was disappointed to find that the pearls were smaller than what she wanted. As she was about to leave, a gentle voice called her back.

"Ms Thatcher, it's my great pleasure to meet you in Hongqiao Market," Bai recalled saying. Bai was, after all, used to dealing with visiting high-profile dignitaries. She then mixed pearls of different sizes and helped Thatcher try on a strand. A pleased Thatcher not only bought the pearls on that occasion but also returned to see Bai on subsequent visits to Beijing.

Bai's career roughly parallels the rise of Chinese pearls' status in the global marketplace: In 1987, when she first arrived in Beijing from Wenling in Zhejiang, she made a living selling plastic basins, cups and bowls.

She set up a stand outside the Temple of Heaven where an open-air market had been thriving since 1979. Ten years later, fewer than 30 pearl farmers from Zhejiang had built up a profitable trade with foreigners. Bai saw her chance and switched her wares.

In 1995, the open-air market was replaced by the enclosed Hongqiao Market. From two booths on the third floor, Bai has established two outlets on the fourth floor, now the center of pearl commerce in Beijing. Meanwhile, her company has grown and established a dozen branches in five cities.

"Doing retail is much harder than wholesale," said Bai. "You have to establish a brand and gain customer trust."

She emphasizes daily etiquette training; and at 9 am and 6 pm, her staff at Hongqiao practice "Hello" and "Thank you" in Russian and other languages.

Her saleswomen, uniformed in a light green coat with embroidered collar matched with black trousers, "do not force customers to buy anything", Bai said. Their job is to explain the product and ensure that when a customer wants to buy pearls, "Fanghua is the first brand he or she thinks of".

Bai speaks fluent English along with five other foreign languages. She regularly visits Hong Kong, Tahiti and Australia to choose pearls. As she has many longstanding customers who buy in bulk, Bai enjoys discounts from major pearl producers.

"A pearl comes to me lifeless; it is my duty to give it culture and brand," said Bai. She believes Chinese will become her main customers in the future, as more people learn about pearls and are able to afford the better quality ones. In anticipation of a growing spring clientele, she is offering new designs in necklaces, earrings, rings, brooches and bracelets.

"We must be prepared for the day when the Chinese consumer market matures," she said.

Down on the third floor, Cai and her mother always bear in mind the 3,000 yuan ($390) monthly tax for their small booth, their family's allotment from a 30,000-yuan ($3,900) contribution to the market's construction.

During the slack tourist season, Cai sells just a few hundred yuan worth of pearls a day. But on lucky days in April and October, she said, she may net tens of thousands if a wholesaler from Europe or America shows up.

Cai studied English in a vocational middle school in Taizhou, Zhejiang, and has continued to learn avidly from her customers, one of whom assigned her the English name Tammy.

Her family obtains pearls mainly from Zhuji in Zhejiang, China's biggest base for freshwater pearl harvesting and preliminary processing. Cai also crafts her own jewelry pieces.

Toward the end of his visit to her shop, Bloom examined a necklace with two black pendant pearls. He rubbed the pearls together real pearls have a surprisingly gritty texture and announced: "I'll have two for 40 yuan ($5)."

"How about two for 400 ($52)!" Cai countered in rapid English.

"You are really buying the personality of the seller when you choose pearls," Bloom conceded. He finally settled on the black pearls and a white necklace.

As for me, I got something special for my mother a string of perfectly round white pearls (450 yuan, or $58). What's more, I succumbed to the spell and bought myself a necklace of pinkish hue, which seemed more casual, albeit perhaps less distinguished, and was definitely less expensive (100 yuan, or $13).

Perhaps, when I get to 60, I'll also go for a string of perfectly round pearls.

(China Daily 03/30/2007 page19)