I had my first panic attack of the Shanghai trip on Monday and it was over such a stupid thing.
Here I was, feeling so empowered and self-confident about my ability to get around in Shanghai when I ran across the simple problem of buying lunch.
My office building has about a dozen or so little restaurants around it, most of them around the bases of the several tall buildings around here. Some of them seem to be apartments, others office buildings. At the base of my building is a 7-11, a Starbucks, a little market, and a few other places I've yet to visit.
I strutted into one of these restaurants, ready to sit down and enjoy some fine local cuisine.
"E Ren!" I proclaimed (one person) as I entered. The guy started speaking very quickly to me and I wasn't quite sure what he meant. It was only through hindsight that I learned that I'd walked into the equivalent of a "fast food" restaurant where people didn't get sat, they ordered and then sat down. Alas, the menu to which he pointed was purely in Chinese, nary a picture to be seen for me to point at.
"Uh, uh....Wah...bo...ming...bai..." I stammered (I don't understand). Finally, I turned tail and fled. I started going around the entire building, looking at every restaurant. All of them seemed to be the same set-up. I had met my match. Why didn't I take a picture of the menu and use Google Translate to help me out? Good question. That's another thing I thought of later.
I went in to the little market and started picking up things to eat only to realize when I went to check out that the store is somewhat self-service and I didn't find anyone taking cash, just WeChat Pay or AliPay -- two things I have yet to master as I don't have a Chinese bank account or credit card. Again, another suggestion for my company is to have a few accounts like this set up where everything can be paid out of that, esp. for travelers coming here for shorter stints.
So, long story short, "555" or "wu wu wu" or "the sound one makes when crying".
The rest of this week I've been going out to lunch with coworkers -- one from the Southfield office, the others from the Shanghai office -- and though I feel a bit like a tag-along, I know my limits at the moment and will try again when I gain some more confidence and language skills.
What I think of every morning I get on my scooter:
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