May Day is a holiday in China. A week long holiday, running from the first of May to the sevent of May, and ruthlessly devouring any weekends foolish enough to be in the vicinity. People from all over China take the week off to stay at home or to travel. Many of those who travel come to Shanghai. And everyone who comes to Shanghai comes to the Bund.
On the first of May, as I went up to the Bund, a girl in a pink jacket called out to me. ‘Indian?’
I stopped and said yes. The girl introduced herself as an English student at Beijing University.
Alarm bells went off in my mind. This was exactly the sort of thing Wikitravel warns travelers to China about: being befriended by university students who then drag you to an art gallery and make you buy high-priced stuff you don’t really want. At the same time, the temptation to have a conversation that didn’t use sign language or phrasebook entries was irresistible.
“Are you a student?”
“Not anymore. I’ve finished studying. I start work in July.”
“Okay. You speak English?”
“Yes.”
“What language do people speak in India?”
“Many. Hindi in the North, Marathi in the West,”- she was already looking bewildered with two languages, so I finished off with “and four languages in the South.”
She blinked and shook her head. “But English is the second language for everyone?”
“Yes.”
“You look a little Chinese.”
“I look Chinese?”
“You look a little Chinese.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
She paused.
“There is a Chinese Art Museum in Shanghai which I came to see. Would you like to see it?”
Alarm bells rang again. Art Museum? This looked more and more like the scam described in Wikitravel with every moment. On the other hand, I could always refuse to buy anything she was selling- heck, I didn’t even have much money with me, and being taken to a new part of Shanghai by a pretty English-speaking girl had its attractions. Of course, at this point of time I wasn’t counting the 400 US dollars in my wallet- which I’m sure Chinese university ‘students’ would just love.
“Okay.”
She led the way. The ‘Museum’ was only fifteen or twenty metres away- it was a room in the basement of the Bund promenade with a latched but unlocked door. Paintings and scrolls were hanging on the walls.
She pointed out a set of Four Seasons scrolls, and then to a scroll of a red and black fish.
“The Chinese character for fish is pronounced the same way as the Chinese charcter for more. So the painting of a fish sybolises that you’ll have more money in the future.”
“Oh yeah. I heard that story yesterday.”
“Where?”
“At the home decoration market on… let me look… Zhojiazui Road. Sombody explained it to me there.”
“You speak very good English.”
“Thank you.”
“At Beijing University there are some people from India. But their English isn’t as good.”
“In different parts of India, people start learning English at different times.”
“How do people in India say thank you?”
“Shukriya.”
“Shukia?”
“Shu-kri-ya.”
“Shook-lee-ya.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Shook-lee-ya.”
“Xie xie.”
We shook hands, and went off.
It was anticlimactic. I hadn’t been forced to buy overpriced art, or even had a pitch made to me. Nor had I been dragged into a side alley and mugged. My passport was still with me, as was my air ticket.
Wikitravel should come with disclaimers in big cyan boxes: “Be aware of the dangers, but take risks anyway.”
How could you just let her go??
Well there is some scam but not that much and they usually go for western tourists, in big cities like Shanghai at least. I have been travelling in China for last five years or so, never had any trouble.
[…] Update: Welcome DesiPundit readers! Do visit my other China travel posts: Home Improvement, Shook Lee Ya, 30 April: A Travelogue, and The Joy of Literal Translations […]