The Joy of Shopping

At the half-way point of my 4-week journey, I find myself in Bangkok, Thailand. If you read my previous post on the "Stress of Travel", you know that I was pointedly challenged on this trip to bring home meaningful and substantial souvenirs and gifts for the family. After multiple failed attempts to overcome my shopping "mental block", I found resounding success in the night time street markets of Kuala Lumpur. With the help of our local agent, Ng Kee Oei, and his fine negotiating capabilities, I was able to secure a nice collection of casual shirts for the boys and designer-looking handbags for Shelley.

Then I got stupid....and overconfident. The right course of action at this point would have been to neatly tuck the loot into my checked baggage, make no mention of it to the family, carry on with the business at hand during the rest of my trip and just surprise everyone when I get home. Yep, that would have done just fine - everyone would be happy, and quite surprised to receive something other than airline toiletry kits and coal.

Nope, I wasn't that smart. In retrospect, I'm not sure if I could have really controlled what happened next. I think there is probably a chemical explanation, perhaps it will be explored in Daniel Goleman's next book. Now, when Shelley goes on a shopping spree, she invariably comes home and rethinks her purchasing decisions, experiencing remarkable self-doubt. I think the term for this phenomena is "shoppers remorse".

Conversely, after a long morning run, the endorphins released in my system, give me a euphoric sensation, commonly referred to as a "runners' high". Maybe it was the release of stress and fear of failure - but I returned to my room with an unmistakable "Shoppers' High" that night. I will blame this chemical imbalance for my actions over the subsequent 24 hours.

Mistake #1: Immediately sharing descriptions (and pictures) of the purchased items with my family. Had I just maintained a secret and presented the gifts upon my arrival, everyone would have been happy. By reporting 'in situ', I created the opportunity for increased expectations. Seeing the types of goods available, the family's "wish list" turned into a shopping list.

Mistake #2: Admitting that I enjoyed the shopping experience. I no longer could collect 'hardship points' for subjecting myself to such an arduous and unpleasant experience.

Mistake #3: Actually enjoying the shopping experience. The human brain is a remarkable organ. It works on a complex series of pattern recognitions and electrochemical reactions. Once the pleasure centers in the brain are activated, there is an inherent (and uncontrollable) motivation to replicate the experience. Drug dealers know this "the first hit is free".

Having experienced this "shoppers' high", I undertook the singular mission of replicating the experience. Sitting at the airport in Kuala Lumpur, I research the shopping scene in Bangkok. I discovered that the largest, and most famous, of the markets in Bangkok is the weekend market; Chatuchak Market. Since the market is only open on the weekends and Sunday would be occupied with setting up our trade show booth and meeting with the local agents, I had no choice but to shop immediately upon arrival on Saturday afternoon. At 2pm I arrived at my hotel. So intent on stimulating the pleasure centers in my brain, I skipped my unpacking and set-up ritual altogether. Tossing the bags on the bed, applying a liberal amount of sunscreen to my exposed skin, I rushed out the door to the train station two blocks away.

During the 25 minute ride on the "sky train", I felt my internal anticipation building. Maybe it was the "standing-room only" crowd on the train - all heading to the same destination at the end of the line. As the train slowed approaching Mo Chit station, we passed the market below. It was HUGE! Does anyone really appreciate how big 35 acres really is? No, that wasn't a typo - I was gazing across a 35 acre outdoor shopping bazaar - and with great anticipation.

I scurried off the train amongst the masses, eager to dive headlong into the sea of bargains. As I turned down the first aisle, picking my way through the 15,000 vendors, a familiar feeling overcame me....gone was the happy feeling from serotonin release in the brain's pleasure centers. This place was WAY out of my league. Looking at the wares available for sale, fear engulfed me. None of the clothes seemed big enough to fit anyone in my family, all of the handbags looked cheap and gawdy, the articles morphed before my eyes - nothing would possibly fit in my luggage. The old feelings were coming back. Determined to beat these demons, I pressed on, determined to find that shoppers' high again. I was breaking into a sweat. (OK, maybe I'm being dramatic, I was sweating because it was 90 degrees and humid outside).

After almost two hours, (one of which was devoted to finding my way out of the labyrinth and back to the train station), I found myself carrying 2 t-shirts for the boys, quite certain they would be too big for Timothy and too small for Tyler. Slumping into a seat on the train, I came to grips with what I already knew - I am not, and never will be, a good shopper.