You may never have been in one, but your impression is probably not favorable: a dark alley, barred windows, the sour-faced pawnbroker sitting on a tall stool behind a high counter, abacus in hand, deaf to all pleas for compassion. Films, novels, and television concur in depicting pawnbrokers as hardhearted, calculating, and stingy.
In fact, historical records show us that pawnshops actually started out in China as charitable institutions.
According to Yang Chao-yu, who has compiled information on the subject, pawnshops were China's first financial institutions, lending out money on the basis of collateral rather than credit. The earliest pawnbrokers were wealthy local merchants who assisted their fellow townsmen by offering them money at low interest rates during times of need. Pawnbrokers were respected members of society, and going to a pawnshop was called "visiting the in-laws," because it was a place of ready help.
Today, pawnshops still offer the lowest interest rates of any lending institution, but their image is a far cry from the benevolent one of old.
Ever since he opened his pawnshop in 1954, Su Jung-ch'uan has met with a similar problem: his wife's family opposed the marriage because of his occupation; his friends and relatives avoid visiting him lest they be seen entering a pawnshop; and his three children, as soon as they reached the age of reason, have all asked him questions like, "Are pawnbrokers all rotten eggs?" and "Do we have to run a pawnshop?"
His eldest son, who asked the questions once himself and has taken over his father's business, now faces the same inquisitions from his preschool daughter. It's all become something of a family joke.
In fact, pawnshops today have improved their appearance and their treatment of customers to attract business. The counters have been lowered, and the pawnbrokers listen to their clients' stories, offer words of consolation, and try to quote a fair price. . . . "Very few of us look like we're shown on TV!" says T'eng K'un-ch'iu, the manager of a government-owned pawnshop in Taipei.
There are probably around 1,000 pawnshops on Taiwan, many of them, because of the small capital investment required, operated by retirees. According to the Taipei Pawnshop Association, some 80 percent of Taipei's nearly 250 pawnshops are owned by retired servicemen or government workers, their average age around sixty.
Small as they are, pawnshops are still part of the financial industry, and their business is closely tied to the state of the economy.
"The people who went to pawnshops in the past were the truly poor, such as people from the South who had come to Taipei to look for work and had run out of traveling money," Ma Chih-chung, owner of Lo Hsiang Pawnshop, explains. "But people today look on pawnshops as an easy source of financial liquidity. Students who want to go into business for themselves during summer vacation pawn some of their things to raise a little capital and then redeem their goods before they go back to school in the fall. Or a small businessman who can't wait for a loan application to go through at the bank will hock his car to make a payment that's come due before his customer's check comes in. So when the economy is doing well, the pawnshop business does well, too."
Under the going rate, a pawnshop loan represents about sixty percent of the sales value of the item pawned, and interest runs from five or six percent a month for a loan from a private pawnshop to as low as 1.5 percent from a public one, as compared with the banks' eight percent. That's why one worker at an electronic factory keeps all his savings--thirty or forty taels of gold--in a pawnshop and lends out the cash to friends and co-workers at interest.
Business like that is a sure thing for pawnbrokers and warmly welcomed. The only things they fear are imitations and stolen goods, which can mean losing money or even being sued.
Detecting fakes and "hot" goods requires experience and an ability to judge a person's character. Pawnbrokers check their clients' ID to see if the personal data look plausible, and sometimes they ask them to operate the article to see how familiar they are with it. Assessing jewelry and gold takes a little effort, and electronic goods are examined for a warranty from the manufacturer. Pawnbrokers on pre-Communist mainland China used to accept artwork and antiques, but those on Taiwan today are not so expert.
Gold has always been an "honored guest" at pawnshops, but it may be a surprise to learn that over thirty years ago umbrellas, eyeglasses, leather shoes, men's suits, and mosquito nets were all highly prized articles there. Twenty-five years ago, bulky black-and-white TV's were the new pets, and ten or fifteen years ago it was light and fluffy nylon quilts. Today pawnbrokers will give you a hard time over a brand-new color television set--because prices are falling so quickly that in three months' time a new one will cost less than the one you pawned.
Along with a quickening in the pace of society, the pawnshop's redemption period has declined from three years early this century to the current three months. The ratio of goods left unredeemed runs about twenty percent, most of which are auctioned off to dealers in second-hand goods.
The clientele, the type of goods pawned, and the redemption period may have changed, but pawnshops themselves, by offering quick cash without the need of filling out a stack of forms or going begging from a relative or friend, have existed for thousands of years and will continue to do so, doubtless, for generations to come.
[Picture Caption]
Many of the wristwatches sold at used good markets are unredeemed pledges from pawnshops.
Taipei's government-owned pawnshops regularly auction off unredeemed gold.
Neon signs with the character 當("pawn") light up at night to show where the "in-laws" live.
Many of the wristwatches sold at used good markets are unredeemed pledges from pawnshops.
Taipei's government-owned pawnshops regularly auction off unredeemed gold.
Neon signs with the character 當("pawn") light up at night to show where the "in-laws" live.