We will find, and drink, boba tea!

Unbeknownst to us, we had been set on a quest. A quest to secure and imbibe boba tea, knowing not the words for tapioca pearl. While we ultimately completed this quest, we certainly had our travails along the way.

The first attempt in Shanghai was a complete disaster. We went to a place that clearly, clearly sold milk tea with tapioca pearls. We ordered two drinks. It took a lot of pointing and hand gestures to get to "tea," which did not bode well for us. The drinks were mixed, they came...and they had tea and ice, with nary a solid in the glass.

The second attempt, also in Shanghai, took several baby steps towards success. Showing our capability to learn, we knew we were going to have to watch the production to steer it towards boba, as we could not find the words for it. So Max, demonstrating his courage by going first, mimicked little round balls and pointed to the containers he believed contained our desired pearls. His drink came and it had solids! But it was lowly grass jelly, with nowhere near the absolutely delicious texture and bite of true pearls. I, trying to build on our momentum, motioned that I wanted solids as well and added to it my improvisation of picking up one of the large straws (created for the sole purpose of drinking boba tea) and motioned that I wanted the pearls that would use this straw. My drink came and the nice cashier handed it to me, with a large straw (logically, taking my motions literally). No pearls though.

The third attempt, in the small canal town of Zhouzhuang, proved our closest miss. We poked our heads in a cake and tea shop. We excitedly noticed the vacuum sealer that was used to attach the tight plastic caps to the tea drinks, punctured with the straws. I went on a recon mission, pretending to look at the little pastries but whirling around where I could see behind the tea counter. There! In a bucket! Tapioca pearls! Yes! Surely, surely, we would secure them now. We ordered from the cashier, who asked for our pick of flavored powders. I was so giddy with joy that I picked some obnoxious blue powder, and I didn't care. Then, as she made the drink, she didn't put any boba in. I walked around the corner and pointed to the bucket, saying my best version of "please, those" in Mandarin. she said something back to me which I could not begin to understand. She understood this, and finally said "no!" very firmly and confidently, and finished our drinks. What happened? I do not know to this day.

The fourth, and victorious, attempt occurred in the small town (ha!) of Beijing. Max, his antenna keen as ever, recognized our blood sugar levels dropping and said "follow me." We left the Temple of Heaven, and he began to steer. We crossed the street. We looped behind a big building. We held close to a big market. We walked down an (apparently to me) empty street. Finally, the joint miraculously appeared, a tapioca pearl place! With pictures! And a cashier who seemed amenable! Max made his order, using a combo of hand signals and pointing to the menu. He double confirmed the pearls. And, lo and behold, they came! Joy of joys! It was beyond refreshing. Immediately after finishing our drinks, we craved another.

Note: It is completely possible that there were several attempts between three and four that the author does not wish to recount.