Destined to become a classic:
I’m in the business lounge of Shanghai airport, one of 400 world-class international aviation hubs that China is building every week, sipping a macchiato prepared by David, a 23-year-old IT graduate and barista, who speaks four languages and plays the violin like a concert-hall maestro.
I’ve spent nearly a week in Shanghai, running from business meetings to cocktail parties to speaking engagements. It’s hard to believe what’s going on.
Heading to meet the founder of Joystream, an exciting new startup, I ride in a “Didi,” a ride-sharing app quite similar to Uber. It’s ordered by my new Chinese friend Hamburger, a 24-year-old stockbroker and father of one, who moonlights on Didi so he can meet “interesting men.”
I ask Hamburger how he finds time to bond with his child, and he explains that Chinese people consider education sacred. While our kids are lounging around summer camp, toasting marshmallows, Hamburger’s toddler is doing long division and performing minor surgery on woodland animals. Hamburger gives me his number and urges me to call him later; the friendliness here is remarkable.
If you’re at all familiar with this genre of breathless reporting by visiting Westerners, you’ll nod at every single sentence. It’s painfully on target. I especially like the uncritical spouting of ludicrously inflated statistics – a specialty of the “China experts.”
This is also pretty funny – a riff on the “Why I’m leaving China” genre. If you’re not entertained by this, well… maybe you had to be there.