Suicidal AND Social in Shanghai

Today was an eye-opener. I finally figured out where my school is located thanks to the help of a kindly concierge, a knowledgeable taxi driver, and a new map. I am now the proud owner of 4 maps of Shanghai...and NONE of them are the same. They say Shanghai changes too fast for the maps to keep up – something that was there a month ago, might not be in the same place today. Also, it helps to have an English version map, as opposed to a Chinese one!


Feeling über-confident after my foray into deepest, darkest Shanghai... I decided to walk the few blocks to the subway for my first ride on this reputed symbol of efficiency. Hah! I was armed with 3 of 4 maps, but construction, confusing signage and just the usual snarl of traffic everywhere served to confuse my otherwise excellent sense of direction. I was expiring in 39C heat, lost and disoriented, getting rapidly fed up with the futility of waiting at the zebra-crossing as cars were ignoring red traffic lights and green pedestrian signals to clog the crossing with bumper-to-bumper traffic with the occasional squealing brakes (pedestrians rank somewhere below pond scum in China)... when suddenly I had an epiphany... a flashback to Amsterdam. I threw myself in front of the cars. Rage is a powerful motivator! Looking the opposite way to the oncoming traffic - I figured, if they can see I’m not looking and my blond hair is in their face, maybe they’ll think twice before they flatten me – I actually crossed the road. I had an moment of Dutch Courage...and a Chinese following as people practically stuck to me and followed in my wake. Marisa 1: Shanghai traffic 9.896.341, but it’s a start to claiming back my right of way! I am foreigner, hear me roar!

In the evening I met up with Wara – whom I met at the Lindsays in Shenzhen – and went to dinner with some of her MBA classmates. I have to admit, I was intrigued when the e-mail arrived with the address and the following instructions:

You need a code to get inside. Tomorrow night the code will be 27. When you arrive at 805 Julu Road, you walk up the stairs. You will see 9 orange holes in the wall. To open the door place one hand in the 2nd hole and the other hand in the 7th hole (27). There is no sign or anything of the restaurant.

True to the description – it WAS hard to find. I did feel excruciatingly stupid sticking my hands in holes number 2 and 7, but it was worth it when we entered. A very sleek and stylish establishment, with prerequisite dim lighting, and great food. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’d be able to find it again...so this will just have to remain a first AND a last!

The next party location was Glamour Bar, which was enticingly sold to me as “an expat bar where people go to see and be seen and the drinks are really expensive”. Naturally, sophisticated schmoozer that I am (ahem), I couldn’t WAIT to go. So there we were, 18 people standing on the side of a smallish road in semi-darkness fending off the extremely persistent and touchy-feely beggars that were lying in wait outside the restaurant entrance (they didn’t believe my newly memorised sentence: I have no money)... with no hope in hell of flagging down the required 5-6 taxis. This is where the company chauffeur and minivan come in. As a side-line in the evenings, apparently company chauffeurs trawl the streets looking for tourists to ferry about in the company car at a special price. I got lobbed into a miniVAN with 9 others, the driver, and his son. There’s nothing quite like trying to fit 12 bodies into a van made for 7 to get everyone acquainted quickly.

Glamour bar was indeed very glamorous...although I’m told that some of the more “glamorous” girls were there mainly on business... Do I need to draw a picture? With a view of the pearl tower, a density of 10 expats to 1 square metre, and cocktails at *gasp* 3.75 pounds (roughly the price of a diet coke in London), it was definitely a must-see/ must-do in Shanghai!