-- This past week my pops was in town to meet with his Chinese astronomer counterparts. On Wednesday, I had the chance to attend one of his talks--a talk I was worried would be laden with highly technical terminology--and I was blown away.
Blown away by the smell of head. I mean like whoa. For those of you who don't know, head is a primary smell and is apparently found in large quantities in the halls of higher learning in China. What exactly is this primary smell, this head smell? Of course for a better description, I had to defer again to the Head Primary Smell Expert.
"Describing the smell of head is much like describing the color red to someone who is color blind. It's so intimately knowable and yet so completely unconveyable, at least by way of normal description. Most smells can be characterized by reference to other smells. A fart, for example, can take on the attributes of dumpster, eggs, and corpse. Or broccoli, homeless man, and Roquefort. Head, on the other hand, is a primary smell -- one of only a handful of primordial odors that are derivative of nothing else. Acknowledging these constraints, I will try my best to create an impressionistic description of head by way of free association/poetry. Here goes.....stinky head glandy pores humid but arid yet humid, scurf embossed in seborrheic humors the larger the chunks the worse the funk, smell it in Chinatown smell it in Crown Heights copper sweat cheese grandpa. Copper sweat cheese grandpa. Copper sweat cheese. Grandpa, wash your balls."
-S*th S*arls (March 31st, 2007)
So according to the description above, I took a 55 minute cab ride (8 USD) across town to hear a talk about Masers and Dark Energy and other stuff I don't know too much about, only to walk right into an ambush of an army of grandpas who haven't adequately cleansed their nether regions. Whew.
--
In more appetizing matters, I got to accompany the astronomers for some delicious eats. One night we went to this Xinjiang restaurant, which featured some indigenous dancers.
Mr. James Ramsey recently explained to me that Xinjiang, a province in the western part of China through which the silk roads snaked, at one point had a language called Tocharian that is related to Celtic. Lost Scots in China! So interesting.
From the outside, China is often thought of as this monolithic entity. But you have these provinces where people don't look "Chinese." Or dance like Chinese people, at least like the Chinese people I've seen dancing (i.e., like they were auditioning for Weekend at Bernie's).
The girls in NY Chinatown can't dance like that no they can't. Watching the dancers, I was like, "Am I even in China?" --
During the next clip, I asked myself, "Did Xinjiang happen to come up with a music style remarkably similar to reggaeton or am I in Puerto Rico with Charlie Chaplin?"
-- This guy reminded me of Don Magic Juan. Of Xinjiang that is.
-- For your reference, this is a picture of Snoop's bud, Don Magic Juan.
Hand in hand with all of this rapid industrialization and massive modernization efforts in China comes, of course, some serious pollution. Like totally serious. A couple of days after posting the pictures of the skyscraper construction projects, I looked out the same window from my office building and...
That's grimey yo. -- Here are the pics again from before.
--
As you can see there's a bit of a difference between a clear day and a not-so-clear day. Apparently the air pollution gets even worse during the summer. To convey what an arduous exercise just breathing can be--given the aforementioned stink rock and all the pollution--I thought the last part of the video clip below provides a poignant example. Sort of. AUDIO IS CRUCIAL.
"I can't breathe!"
I can't get enough of this clip, particularly the ultramega heartfelt concern the anchorpeople express. Seriously how good is this clip?!
Had this grand notion to catalog all the buildings getting they erect on (I can't help but to dip into the "get my/they ____ on" pool; it's the gift that keeps on giving, but I'll try to lay off it for while...no promises), but I basically got lazy so I'll post these pics for now.
--
These next to photos were taken from the office building where I'm working.
One of my bosses, Dan, showed me some renderings for the construction project across the street, which will house the new (state-owned) CCTV headquarters. Rem Koolhaas designed this bad boy on that ol' robotic futuristic George Jetson, craaaaa..."
--
For further explication of recurrent "futuristic George Jetson craaaa..." references, see/hear below (the intro):
It's just my opinion, but I don't think Craig Mack was the most handsome MC in the history of hip hop. --
More George Jetson futuristic robotic ish. Check out the Beijing Olympic Stadium.
The Beijing Olympics in summer of 2008 is going to be China's coming out party. It's going to be off the wok. All this construction (that I planned to/but did not document) is supposed to be completed by then. Nuts. Nuts I say.
It's going to be just like in the video below, except for the last part. More on the celebration end of the spectrum, less on the sinister alien invasion end of the spectrum. Or maybe the "aliens" are just late-coming celebrators wearing alien costumes.
One thing I have noticed since moving to China is a significantly higher occurrence rate of stink rock*. Whew. Man I don't know what it is. So many people, both men and women's breath smell like stink rock. It's so powerful, so overpowering, and it makes me mad. I don't want to talk to these people. Like taxi drivers, shop keepers, co-workers, etc. Usually they're very nice people, but part me of wants me to just throat chop them when they talk.
*For those of you who are not familiar (i.e., probably 98% of the population) with the term, "stink rock," I thought I would defer to the Stink Rock Expert himself, who so graciously provided this definition:
"Stink rock is a highly dense assemblage of foods, typically lodged in a small crevice in the back of tonsils. As more food enters, it gets packed in and pressurized, much like the creation of a precious jewel. Saliva and other oral enzymes bleach the food of its color. It starts to rot almost immediately, fermenting in the saliva. Eventually, it can be coughed out. If crushed, all the rot of a thousand foodstuffs is released almost immediately. To an untrained nose, the odor can be almost unbearable."
-S*th S*arls, March 20th, 2007 Anyway, that sh!t is gross son! I don't know what it is. Is it the diet? The stinky tofu dishes? A genetic propensity passed down from generation to generation? Is there DNA testing for this?
My latest hypothesis centers on the vocalization requirements for the Chinese language. In order to master the tones, one needs to train the vocal chord to modulate and undulate with utmost precision to get the pitches just right. Perhaps all this modulation and undulation of the vocal chords serves to dislodge the aforementioned stink rock, releasing a perpetually unbearably potent strand of halitosis. In other words, some people's breath smells like poo. (No offense to any of you with stink rock. And of course, now I'm paranoid that I've had stink rock break all this time and nobody has told me. If so, my profuse apologies!)
--
While I'm getting my rant on, can I express my displeasure with Nivea? See, Beijing is super arid. It's apparently at the edge of a desert, and I noticed my lips getting mighty chapped. I went to the store to rectify and saw all this lip gloss. Then I noticed a familiar brand. Nivea! Not there's anything wrong getting lip gloss (and then getting a foot massage), but I thought I'd get theNivea for Men. And then get a foot massage.
Then I walked outside and went to apply the lip protection. This is the product:
I just didn't feel too tough applying my new Nivea for Men lip care product. I feel bamboozled.
--
Went to this club the other night and witnessed a frightening scenario (for a DJ).
The crowd was going bonkers to this song. Singing along, hands in the air! I was like if I had to follow this DJ, what in theeee darn tarnation would I play?
Speaking of riding dirty, that's a mangy @ss horse. Or is that a mule? The Chinese Seabiscuit yo!
--
And then Qiaaaaaaaoodan* dunked over Mark Eaton. When he ran back up the court, he turned back and said, "Is he big enough for you?"
*Pronounced: Cheeyowdan. (Say Cheeyowdan 10 times in a row and see what it sounds like...)
-- Can somebody tell me if there is some ad agency here that is trying to carve out the "probably the best" niche for all their clients? Cause I think that would be a great place to work. It'd be so easy.
"What? You want us to create a new media presence for you? Don't worry about this so-called new media thing. It's only for businesses who are trying to claim they are the best. You're only probably the best. And yes I do realize that you serve Swedish food, but we have this great picture of this guy who really likes to play racquetball from Iowa..."
--
I heard this music as I walked by the Workers' Stadium, which is where they play the big football (soccer) games, and I saw...
The Chinese Electric Slide!!! Also notice the Chinese version of hacky-sack (aka Ball With Feather). I was bumping that new turboradness mixed by DJ Equal, another famed Morrisey Park alumnus, and it goes surprisingly well organized Chinese dancing.
One great thing about moving to China is you get to really appreciate all the different cultural nuances, such as the different ways of thinking. Take the war on terror for example. Instead of trying to find Bin Ladin on the border of Afghanistan and Pakistan, why not try to lure him out with luxury apartment units?
-- You know what they say: "Once you go blackcock and walnut Bo Chi...you never go back."
--
I imagine it can be hard for appliance salesemen here sometimes.
"M'am, have you seen our latest Maytag dryer with the Oversized Capacity Plus/Intelli Dry Sensor & Quiet Plus 200. It sure is a doozie."
"Look I don't need all this newfangled gobbledygook. Don't you see I already got...a tree?!"
-- The celebration of a new year was also a bit different here. Overall (besides the hong bao's of course), I thought Chinese New Year's here was a bit disappointing, if I might be so frank. Upon further reflection, however, I realized my feeling that something was left wanting stemmed from certain unfair pre-expectations.
Having pretty much celebrated all my New Year's in the USandA, the idea of New Year's has now ensconced itself in my brain as, uh, well like a party. I think high school is when I really started to look forward to New Year's as a time to celebrate. All of your friends imbibing together, and most importantly there was that potential, that chance you could kiss a girl, maybe even that really cute girl you had a crush on. (Who started that tradition and why was he, or she, such a genius?)
6!!...5!!...4!!!...3!!!!!!...2!!!!!!!...(scanning the room frantically and strategically positioning yourself)...well I never actually kissed anyone myself, but there was that hope OK?
There was also a high probability that somebody would drink too much and make an @ss out of himself. Like passing out on the stairs and peeing their pants. That was so awesome.
When I owned a bar in the East Village, New Year's also meant the biggest night of the year (and biggest bar ring). That was pretty sweet as well. Except that one year when a girl spilled an entire drink all over the DJ mixer and the music cut out at 12:04am when people were still guzzling their champagne flutes and then everyone left because they wanted to hear music and having no music was a serious buzzkill and thousands of dollars walked right out of the door and I was like this really sucks and then later that night I ended up hooking up with somebody who in retrospect I probably shouldn't have hooked up with but she was really attractive and I was seduced really hey wait I kissed her at midnight!
Anyway I was pretty excited to celebrate my first Chinese New Year's in China. My first time to properly celebrate. Another huge party! Somebody might pee in their pants!
Wrong.
See Chinese New Year's in China is more like xmas. School is out for a month. Offices are closed for a week. The whole country is pretty much shut down. It's all about family time. I heard that 250 million people rode the trains over the holiday to visit their various hometowns. For many Chinese, this is the only time of year they get to see their family back home.
And I thought how ludicrous it would be to come somewhere in America on xmas and carry the expectation that you were going to some crazy party with lots of girls that you may (or may not) be able to kiss at midnight and hopefully see somebody pee their pants. Sure you might find some people at the bar, but it's not the same. Most people are at home with their families. And if somebody does pee their pants, it's really pretty sad, like dude don't you have a family?
The last day of the Spring Festival (Chinese New Year's), however, was pretty cool. This day is apparently the day when Chinese people spark up the fireworks. Chinese people straight lighting off fireworks on some Chinese firecracker kack-kack-kack-kaaack! How did I know about this tradition? I saw some flashes looking out the window, and then when I stepped outside...
It was like Beijing was B.O.B. (Bombs Over Bagdad like that Outkast song). Speaking of which, when was the last time you saw that video, or even heard that song?
That song was kind of waaaay ahead of its time on some futuristic George Jetson craaaa...! On the flip side Amy Winehouse brings back that old Billie Holliday vibe. For me at least. Dope. Word to Christine Moon for keeping a brotha informed o'er here
-- Steadily getting settled into life in Beijing. Actually found an apartment this past Thursday and moved in today. Got a furnished a 1-BR for a little over 200 USD/month*. Word. I have accommodation capabilities now.
*This was only made possible by my Auntie Eulalia, who speaks Chinese and opened up the hometown channels.
Also found a place to eat reeeeeibs!!! (See the video below, which is actually a melange of clips).
(1) I told you Chinese people like lights. I am pretty sure that's the biggest LCD I have ever seen. This was actually that new mall, The Place, I had mentioned earlier with the Adidas store bumping Gin and Juice.
(2) Not sure about you, but when I saw that gate, I really didn't expect it to be such a thoroughfare. Then I wondered if anyone has ever gotten stuck. Then I thought that the gate discriminates against fat people and people with big heads like myself.
(3) Beijing's cuisines are diversifying on the quickness. Of course you got the 3-Wheel Motion grub purveyors, who I think have been doing their thing for years.
But then I also went to a place that serves reeeibs yo. This place, Tim's BBQ, has been open for about 6 months. Before this place, my understanding is there was no ribs place in Beijing. Ever. This is the first. Decent, but ain't no Gale(sp?) Street Inn's, or even Fat Willy's.
This last restaurant is probably the nicest Chinese restaurant I have ever been to. The decor is all classy, which is something you don't really see too often (like never) in Chinatown. I ate some more mean @ss duck (but no goose) meat. Once again, big ups to Susan Chen and Mr. Stanley.
--
I'm also getting all edified. My work colleagues, Dan and Adam, were gracious enough to invite me out toArtwalk , this event their girlfriends had organized in what's called the 798 district. Apparently this is one of the few areas in the city that officials have decided to protect against the unremitting onslaught of high rise construction.
My favorite exhibit was called something like, "Workers painting black and white." Genius. At first, I wondered if this another one of those China things where the gallery owner was like, fock we're not done painting. Fock it!
Another example of "one of those China things" is the practice of employing an elevator attendant in apartment buildings. Like even real crappy ones. So this apartment I looked at last week was on the 11th floor. After midnight the elevator attendant goes home for safety reasons (for the attendant or the residents I'm not sure about). I imagined coming home after doing the roger rabbit and the cabbage patch all night and then contending with 11 flights of stairs. Nah nah I don't gets down like that.
My new apartment actually has the same deal, but I'm only on the 3rd floor.
Anyway, there was also a party at the end of Artwalk, which reminded me of the First Friday's parties at the Guggenheim, albeit on slightly smaller scale. Beijng hipsters!
They had these classic photos blown up from the Mao era with the revolutionary design aesthetic, which I actually really dig.
-- And speaking of aesthetics, I'm pretty sure this guy was a bad guy in a Jackie Chan movie or something. He got a hurricane kick to the dome and fell off the bamboo scaffolding. Ganxta!
-- "Frank, I am telling you I am loving my new location. You know the old barbershop, I mean I just couldn't take it anymore. Everybody's always talking sh!t. I needed some peace and quiet from all that. Sometimes you just gotta get some fresh air!"
--
Just like the barber above knows, sometimes in China you gotta just mellow out. Word to Moe and Amanda for independently putting me on to Phoenix, who have moved into heavy rotation. Below is not my favorite Phoenix song, but the video is kind of cool.
But if we're going to be on some stop motion graphics ish then I gotta go with these dudes.
The other day I decided to explore the different transportation options offered in Beijing. I found out that the bus fare is .12 (USD) and even cheaper with a bus card. I wanted to get my authentic Chinese ride on so I packed up some single yuans (aka the Chinese George Washington's) and headed out with a nebulous plan to find a bus to take me to Starbucks.
See a group of people at a stop, so I go over to check it out. There are like 20 bus lines listed on the sign. Should I take the 43, 116, 703, 834, or something in between? Since I do not (a) read Chinese and (b) know Beijing very well, I have no idea where each bus is supposed to go. Three buses approach and people start queuing up. So I was like fock it this 703 bus looks good.
In order to get to this Starbucks I've been hitting, I just need the bus to go straight for a few blocks, and I can get off. Instead at the first major intersection, the bus goes left. Hmmmmm. Then I get a "David Ho"* inspiration and decide to just ride it out nahmean and see where the bus takes me. Because taxis are so cheap here (e.g., $8 for 45 minute ride to airport), I figure if anything I can just get off and hop in a cab and go back to the apt.
[*When I was growing up there was a kid in my town named David Ho, a special kid if you will, who enjoyed spending his weekends and free time riding the bus around town. He would just ride the bus till the end of the line, wherever that was and then ride back. Back and forth back and forth. He also used to really like Mickey Mouse. When I was in 7th grade, some 8th graders told him that Mickey Mouse got shot, and he ran around the halls crying hysterically, "Noooooo!!!!!!! Mickey Mouse died! Mickey Mouse died!!! Waaahhhhhh!!!!"]
So I'm just cruising, checking out parts of Beijing I have never seen before (i.e., 95% of the city), and then my phone rings. Unknown number. Who can this be?
"What up my China Man!!!"
It's my favorite newly naturalized Italian citizen, Mr. Fitzpatrick, who himself recently moved to London. He is living a tad different lifestyle more akin to Jim Jones ("Ballin!").
It is about 1pm on Sunday afternoon in Beijing, so I figure it's about 4 or 5am on Sunday morning o'er in London.
"Just got back home yeah yeah. Just a regular night out in London, you know, spent $200 (USD) in cabs..."
I chuckle to myself as I look out the window on the bus that cost .12 (USD) to get on. People are staring at me as I don't think many non-locals ride this piece. A different world indeed. I haven't talked to Tommy in a while, so we catch up and then the connection starts to get crappy. I look up, and I realize I've been riding this bus for like over 30 minutes and I have absolutely no idea where I am.
Fock it.
I'm going to David Ho this mothertrucker and keep riding!
Then the bus stops at what appears to be the end of the line, and everybody on the bus starts to get off.
OK, so I guess this is where I'll get off. I look at the bus number to confirm 703. Uh, why does it say 43?! Did the number change while I was riding? WTF?! (It turns out I actually took the 43 from the get-go. More than one homages to David Ho on this day.)
I conjecture that I am pretty far from the center of Beijing. It certainly feels authentic. I don't see a single weiguoren (foreigner). I like how courteous and resourceful the community is with the brick pathway.
And you know I have to give love to the 3-Wheel Motion that serves grub!
I try to figure out my way back by taking a bus in the opposite direction, but I can only find a No. 12 bus. I take it for a while but then it starts looping back and I'm seeing the same buildings again. Uh oh. Hop off and catch a cab. We drive for a long time, but only costs $4 (USD). Four hours after leaving the apt, I'm finally back.
[Some last pics of Hong Kong that I didn't get a chance to load up until now.]
Weather was crazy warm in HK with the temperature in the 70s (but mad humid you know how Asia do). When it wasn't hazy the view during the day wasn't too shabby either.
--
Just saw "Night at the Museum" on a DVD I bought for 70 cents (USD). For some reason when Ben Stiller started speaking in Russian, I started to have this sneaking suspicion that maybe this product was not 100% legit. Anyway the 2 buildings in the background below remind of those giant Easter Island heads. What makes the picture for me though is the dolphin refuse receptacle.
-- And what night out in HK could be complete without a trip to Lan Kwai Fong?
It's literally bar next to bar next to a pub under a club overlooking a pub. Take that NYC zoning bureaucrats! -- In order to deal with the never-ending swarms of people I often found refuge by putting on earphones and listening to the good ol' ipod. One day I brought it back and dug up The Chronic. Wow. So good. When was the last time you listened to that album front to back? I kind of forgot how formidable young Snoop was. Seriously how sick/slept on is the track, "Stranded on Death Row"? You got Bushwick Bill on a Dr. Dre track = Genius.
Definitely made for some interesting audio/visual juxtapositions...
"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat like that!" -- Charlie can relate to this.
-- Hong Kong got sneaker heads too.
-- I apologize for the blurriness of this next picture, but I couldn't believe my eyes. I wondered if this dude:
a) has been rocking the French roll since the 80s. b) recently decided to bring it back and be "ironic." c) came up with this new rolling up style on his own like on some Newton and Leibniz ish.
-- "Have you seen my sunglasses girlfriend? You know I can't be leaving the house without my Versace's. I gots to look good heyyyy!! Don't rush me OK I have to find these sunglasses! All I have is this visor with a shaded bill. For real where are my sunglasses?! Wait hold up hold up! What if I just take this visor and..."
-- Got back to Beijing on Wednesday. So fresh and so clean it is not. Beijing is like the raw ("I'ma give it to ya/with no trivia...") with all its construction and development. You can taste the development when you breathe (gross son!). The air actually reminds me of NY in the weeks following 9/11, which is not a good thing.
Pretty interesting though to see the contrast between Hong Kong and Beijing. Hong Kong is much more like New York in the sense that a "been there done that" attitude pervades. In Beijing everything is so new and fresh. Many of all these buildings and restaurants and bars and stores and everything have only sprung up in the past 5-10 years. Everything is on the come up.
Got the gears in the noggin' going. Do Chinese people wanna throw some D's on it too?
