“On Aug. 31, 2008, capitalism of the West and communism of the East were married in a loud and boisterous ceremony in Beijing. The bride, whose father is Adam Smith, looked tired, as if she was unsure of the marriage about to be performed. Meanwhile, the groom, whose father is Karl Marx, wore a toothy grin that indicated confidence and an ever-expanding outlook toward the future. Also in attendance were Mao Zedong, Wal-Mart and 1.3 billion Chinese citizens. The couple will honeymoon on the Chinese Riviera near Shanghai. They will enjoy gifts of pirated china sets, an Audi A8 at half the cost of one sold in America and a weekend villa outside Beijing that was previously occupied by a traditional Chinese village of 3,000 people. The couple expects to have only one child.”

This could well be the marriage announcement for the joining of American capitalism and Chinese communism here in Beijing, where I will stay until Christmas. Capitalism is king here, and everything revolves around it. The currency in China, the kuai or yuan, is worth about 6.6 American dollars, so everything is dirt-cheap. A decent meal in the cafeteria costs 50 cents, and a subway ride costs 35 cents.

I think this is great. Coming from Chicago, which is not the cheapest town around, I think I have found paradise.

So I head to the Silk Market on my third day in town. The Silk Market is much like hell. All your sins are roiled into one gigantic, seven-story mall haunted by little Chinese women who call you “sweetie” and “want to be your friend for good price.”

A fake Gucci purse for my sister, perhaps; a Ralph Lauren polo shirt with the obnoxiously large pony, for my dad; or a Movado watch for me that looks deceptively similar to the one I won in the claw game at the local Pizza Hut; all of these purchases are possibilities.

“Three hundred eighty kuai for the polo, I try to be your friend,” the Chinese lady tells me. “You have pretty eyes, you look good in Ralph Lauren, best quality, even better than real Ralph Lauren.”

There, she said it-all of these items are fake.

Do I give into temptation and buy the stolen and fake products and contribute to the downfall of American companies?

You’re damned right I do. How could I not?

After walking away from my newfound Chinese female friend (because she will not give me the price I want) she tells me, “Ok, ok, you so mean, I hate you, you make me cry….60 kuai, last price.”

Sold with a smile. I have successfully bought a knockoff that looks completely legit for about 10 U.S. dollars – a far cry from the $135 I would have spent at the Ralph Lauren store on Michigan Avenue.

After lunch at the food court, which consisted of starfish, snake and lamb penis (which tasted vaguely similar to the chicken parmesan in Griesedieck cafeteria served by Chartwells), I headed back to my dorm room, exhausted by all the tiny Chinese ladies yelling at me and grabbing all sorts of body parts to lure me into their dungeons of fake designer goods that I do not need.

The desire to make money at any price is driving the Chinese economy. With that money come goods that citizens have never had before; this leads to a desire for more and more.

Will the marriage of capitalism and communism survive? As long as the Ralph Lauren woman is willing sell me polo shirts, then I think it will.

Ryan Gach is a junior in the John Cook School of Business, studying abroad in China.