A Stroll in Shanghai

On my first day in Shanghai, I leave my hotel room with the intention of going for a stroll around the neighbourhood.

This fantasy evaporates the moment I head out the door and attempt to cross the street. In China, traffic rules seem to be more like traffic recommendations, and honking the horn seems to be the national hobby. Some drivers honk out tunes on their horns, and I swear I have seen cars honking on completely empty roads when there is not another car in sight. The taxi drivers are always in a hurry, and most seem to be under the impression that they are driving ambulances, stopping at nothing in order to get to the destination as quickly as possible. So do the bus drivers, weaving their 20 tonne vehicles in and out of the incoming traffic lane with reckless abandon. Throw in a few motorbikes and a couple of hundred push-bikes, and you have a sure recipe for chaos.

I manage to cross the street by hiding amongst a group of Chinese people and praying a lot, and after much difficulty end up on the Bund, ostensibly Shanghai's most picturesque mile. You would think that a lovely riverside boulevard would be the perfect place for strolling, but appearances can be deceiving. Knowing that anyone who has time to stroll has plenty of money too, a sizeable population of beggars and hawkers wait for me to arrive. The beggars are suitably heart-wrenching; the old-women clutch at your sleeve, faces covered with dirt and clothed in rags, whilst the children just sit on their cardboard boxes with glazed-over eyes. Then there are the hawkers, ever entreating you to buy their wares. However, I cannot for the life of me understand why they think I would want the things they are sellingwhich are without a doubt some of the most useless products I have ever seen. Like glow-in-the-dark horns. Or Army Men which stick to the walls. Or ridiculously long chains of kites. Or blobs of putty which can be thrown repeatedly at the ground. Or flashing, noisy electronic gizmoes which seem to have no other purpose but to flash and make noise. The most handy saying so far in China is "Bu Yao", which means "I dont want it".

Finished with the Bund, I head to East Nanjing road to spend a little bit of money. Or a lot of money. Not only am I the most foreign-looking foreigner in this whole country, but I have absolutely no bargaining skills whatsoever, and every shopkeeper I come in contact with seems to know this. I try out the experience of following one of the dodgy street salesmen into a very dodgy looking shop in the back alleys to buy a fake Rolex. The back alleys scenery is marvellous, with groups of men sitting around smoking and playing cards underneath improvised clothes lines hanging over the narrow street, whilst motorbikes weave their way around them happily honking away. My bargaining is less marvellous, and I end up paying 120 yuan ($20) for my shiny new watch. When the purchase is completed, the sellers are beaming from ear to ear, and I am absolutely certain I have paid 3-4 times the going rate. Oh well...

I have no luck whatsoever at picking out food either. I can't seem to find a single place to eat on the road, and inevitably end up at some fancy restaurant, being served by people in suits and looking out over the skyscrapers of the river from the wall-to-wall windows. Most menus do not have pictures, and all though I know a few of the characters (I especially made sure to learn the one for 'dog'), I still cannot for the life of me figure out what any of the dishes are. What is "Three Fresh Spice Happy"? What is "Golden Dragon Pancakes"? Obviously eating here will require a sense of adventure, and a multi-talented digestive system. Luckily the price of the food will never be a problem - even a meal at this posh restaurant, with a gigantic cold beer, costs a total of 40 yuan ($7).

Most things are cheap in China, even in relatively expensive Shanghai. Some things however, are definitely not. Being scammed is one of those things. Only after a few days in Shanghai did I succesfully identify the "two girls" combination as trouble. It's always two girls, and they always speak English, and you should always run in the other direction upon meeting such a combination. But the first time I ran into two girls who spoke English on East Nanjing Road, I had no idea of this. Ok, I had heard many tales of scamsters, but they always described "Attractive Girls", and these two were simply not that attractive. Given that many people were randomly stopping in the street to pose for photos with me, two "English Students" wanting to chat with me as I strolled along the road didn't seem at all out of place. We talked for about 20 minutes about all manner of things, before they finally got down to business in the most innocent way possible - "Hey, do you feel like a coffee?". Sure! Why not?

We drink coffee, and they start ordering other random little tidbits, and alarms begin quietly sounding in my head. Something isn't right here. Then they start calling me handsome. Something is definitely not right here. Then another patron walks in, a single foreign man with two Chinese girls. The penny drops. This is a fake coffee shop. The girls are professional scamsters. Run Nick run!

But its too late, and from the smiles on their innocent faces I can see that they have already won. As I try to leave, the bill arrives for1800 yuan ($300). Hmm....what to do now? Well, how about we start by finding a way out of this shop? Putting on my sweetest innocent 18-year-old-who-thinks-that-$300-is-a-perfectly-reasonable-price-for-coffee face, I show them my nearly empty wallet (I hide all my money in my pockets for situations just like these) and ask if I could go to and ATM and come back. They let me go, but only if Mr.Scary-Looking-Man comes with me. Damn, there goes my plan of running like the wind the moment I get out of the door. I guess I'll have to come up with a new plan...

I keep up my innocent guise until the last possible moment, and the scamsters fall for it as easily as I fell for theirs. They allow me to wander this way and that in the streets until I spy an English-speaking desk in a bank, at which point I drop the guise of looking for an ATM and hurry towards him. "Hey, how's it going? Look, um, these people are scammsters trying to rob me..." My scamsters protest loudly in Chinese, but I manage to hold his attention and continue calmly explaining my situation, until finally I play my last card: "Call the Police". The scamsters faces are aghast, and they begin to plead with me, trying everything (including mentioning once again how handsome I am)until at last they mumble excuses and vanish into the streets. I can't believe it...I won!

I sling my backpacker over my shoulder and stumble back to my hotel room in a state of mild shock, resolving to spend the next several months safely inside these four walls. My resolve doesn't last long though, and that very evening I find myself back out on the streets. Not strolling this time, I walk with my eyes on the road in front, dodging the offers of coffee and tea ceremonies, skipping over the rubbish heaps, and weaving my way in and out of the flashy-noise-making-gizmoes, and happily take in the nightscape surrounding me. I realize that Shanghai is not neccesarily a bad place; you just need to know the right way to walk.