After a long day immersed in robots, enterprise AI, and emotional tech at WAIC 2025, I figured my Shanghai adventure might wind down with a quiet evening. I was wrong—in the best way.
The second half of my day reminded me that while AI may power the future, it’s the moments of connection—real, human connection—that make the journey worthwhile.
I met up with my friend Diana at the Shanghai Library, where we were given VIP access to an XR Large Scale experience exhibition called The Flowing Dunhuang – Realm of Thousand Colors.
They fitted us with headsets, and at first, everything was dark—just a quiet void. Then suddenly, I was standing in the middle of the desert. The horizon stretched out around me, golden and vast.
As the experience unfolded, I was flying—literally soaring—over caravans crossing the sands. We glided toward the top of a massive sand dune, where a lone figure stood silhouetted against the rising sun. I could feel my body reacting, leaning slightly as if bracing for the landing.
Next, we descended into the Mogao Caves of Dunhuang. The walls around us came alive with ancient murals, painted sculptures, and the kind of art you can only feel in silence. I forgot I was in a white-walled room.
At one point, the floor beneath me dropped—like a slow elevator plunging into the earth. My stomach lifted. Later, standing at the edge of a virtual cliff inside a cavern, I wanted to lean forward and look down, but my body hesitated. The illusion was that real.
Toward the end, we flew again—this time over the Great Wall, with a town sprawled out beside it: people, horses, guards, all moving below as if pulled from history. It felt like time travel in high definition.
And finally, we circled back to that same figure standing on the sand dune, now facing the dawn. As I landed, my body tipped forward ever so slightly, fooled again by nothing more than light, motion, and sound.
It was awe-inspiring—not just visually stunning, but deeply human. A story told without words, anchored in place, memory, and art. China using technology to help you feel something ancient.
From the library, Diana and I hopped on the Shanghai Metro, making our way to the next destination. If the XR Large Scale event had been transcendent, the subway was grounding—very grounding.
The car was packed. Shoulder-to-shoulder humidity, the smell of summer sweat, and the quiet patience that only comes from a million people navigating life in tight quarters every day.
We laughed about it, pressed between strangers with barely a centimeter of breathing room. And yet, there was something shared and strangely comforting in it. Just another day in the rhythm of a city that never pauses. I do feel bad about the jostling I had to do in order to get off the subway. I swear I heard some grunting as me and my pack back pushed through the crowd at the door.
Later that evening, Diana and I met up with a group of friends at a Children’s Playground Park. Despite the name, it wasn’t exactly a children’s event, though the environment was very much catered to having kids running around when it is fully open, and the food definitely had a park-style vibe: fusion dishes served fast and hot. I had a messy Shrimp Sandwich. Very messy, lol.
But what made the night memorable wasn’t the food. It was the box of Sauvignon Cabernet that someone brought along. Between sips and toasts, we shared stories, talked business, laughed, and talked long into the evening. I was surrounded by new faces, but it felt easy, like community on demand.
It wasn’t formal or fancy. It was real. And after the soaring spectacle of the XR caves, this simple moment grounded the day perfectly.
By the time I made it back to my hotel, it was raining, and past 10:30 p.m. But I was too hungry to end the night.
I wandered out into the wet and quiet streets of Old Town Shanghai, after passing a small, literally a hole in the wall noodle shop, and poking my head in to see the food, I smiled at the cook and kept walking hoping I would find something more. Further down the street I found two braised beef noodle restaurants, one on either side of the street. How do you choose I thought, the one that looked busiest, lol. I ordered their top seller, the hostess motioned to me, a bowl of braised beef noodle soup – with a surprise. I’m pretty sure that was beef stomach in my soup as well. I closed my eyes and just ate my soup. It wasn’t bad, but I won’t be searching it out either.
Despite the stomach, it was perfect. Rich broth, tender meat, soft noodles, and the kind of silence that only settles in a city late at night, after the chaos has exhaled.
That evening reminded me that the most important technology in our lives may not be what runs on circuits—but what allows us to share stories, laughter, awe, and meals.
WAIC was the reason I came to Shanghai. But this day—this day—was why I’ll remember it.
Echo From The West 