Short post: In a remote location in Korea...will post more detailed update later. There are straight crops growing here, which made me appreciate all the more what is now my new favorite video...
A couple of weekends ago, I met up with a couple of friends (Seth and Tommy) in incredibly hot and humid Hong Kong. It just so happened to be the 10th anniversary of the Hong Kong handover from Britain to China.
Which made me think back to the original circumstances leading up to this event. Talk about a gangster moment in history.
Britain: "What?! You don't want me slanging opium in China? I know you did NOT just dump my product into the harbor. I know you di-iidn't!!!!
Do you realize what kind of cannons I roll with? Have you seen my cannons, son?!
Oh you falling back now? Well you are now going to have to pay me for lost product and wasting cannonballs. Oh, and how about you give me Hong Kong? Please sign here: Treaty of Nanjing (1842)."
Fast forward 155 years and England agrees to hand Hong Kong back to the motherland in 1997.
Many HK residents, like some of my uncles, left HK right before the handover, because they were worried about how Hong Kong, a capitalist bastion under British rule (famous for such signs as "No dogs and No Chinese"), would be integrated into a communist country. In other words, they didn't know if somebody was going to fock with they paper.
Fast forward another 10 years, and the official policy, "One country two systems," seems to be working like gangbusters. HK is still awash in C.R.E.A.M. with all these mainland Chinese companies listing themselves on the Hong Kong bourse. Many people who left in 1997 are now returning to HK, after seeing nothing has really changed since the handover. Their worst fears unrealized.
And what better way to celebrate the 10th anniversary than with an outdoor music concert in downtown Hong Kong?
--
Oh and I found my long lost great-greatgrandfather's road in Hong Kong...
--
Anyway after the weekend was over, Tommy went off to Singapore. Seth went back to Manila, where word on the streets is that this shorty is taking over.
(The author, Ryan Nerz, of my favorite book so kindly sent this clip.)
Alright so I've been a bit delinquent with my updates lately. I've been in a bit of state of flux so to speak (more on this later). First off, Seth's visit a few weeks ago tuckered a brotha out, depleting him of blogging energy/motivation.
I did recharge a bit when I went camping for the first time. Not just in China. But like my first time ever. Sure I've done camping day trips. Hikes, what have you. But I had never slept under the stars, like all premeditated and what not. I embarked on a great wilderness adventure, quite skeptical of what China had to offer outside of Beijing proper.
I ended up sleeping on a rock.
You know what? It wasn't so bad. (One of the tent occupants kindly lent me her sleeping bag). I was actually quite surprised at how pleasant the scenery was.
China never ceases to surprise me, both good and bad. I mean, would you expect to see this landscape 2 hours outside of Beijing?!
On a non-environmental tip, I have also been DJing at this spot, VICS. This picture was taken on a Wednesday night.
DJing here in Beijing has provided an interesting sociological window into the Chinese youth culture. For one thing, Chinese people can't really dance. Not to generalize or stereotype or anything. Have you seen that movie, Weekend at Bernie's? When I look out onto the dancefloor, it's kind of like that. They just sway back and forth like lifeless forms. It focks up my DJing. Basically the test is: if Bernie can't dance to a beat that's somewhat syncopated, the dancefloor just might clear out.
For example, one night I felt I was losing the crowd, so I kind of panicked and put on something "safe." I threw down Prince, "Kiss." Dancefloor. Empty. I was blown away. I had never had that happen before. I told my friend, Beverly, and she was like, "What parallel universe did that happen in?!" China. It's called China.
However...if there are some lizzadies and/or some laowai's (foreigners), who demonstrate a knack for some jiggle-booty activities with the music, the rest of the crowd follows suit. The results can be magic (and produce really bad audio quality).
Oh, and Chinese people really like Hip Hop Hooray!
A few people have asked me why I haven't updated in a while, and the short answer is a good friend/Stink Rock Expert/Primary Smell (e.g., Head) Expert was in town. This is the same friend who chastised me about my less than stellar bargaining skills after one of my first blog posts.
Anyway, on Mr. Searl's first day I suggested we check out the market where I got my very first foot massage (by a dude nonethelesss...not that there's anything wrong with that), because Seth had expressed interest in buying shoes.
We get to the market, and I overhear a conversation between a nearby vendor and a European guy.
Customer: "What kind of leather is this? Where is it from? Is it really from Italy?"
Vendor (with complete straight face): "This is China of course there are no fakes."
I chuckle and look over at Seth, who appears ready to test his negotiation skills. "Let me show you how to bargain son!"
[Wednesday morning I get an update from Seth about his new shoes. "Dude they are like 5 sizes too small! I think they pulled a switcheroo when they put the shoes in the bag..."] --
Later in the weekend, I take Seth back to the 798 Art Gallery district, and we learn the industrial spaces were in fact military factories back in the day. The new galleries, restaurants, and coffeeshops just gutted the spaces, but some artifacts could not be removed (see below).
--
After devising grand plans to hike 10km along a more untouched part (i.e., not swamped by tourists and vendors hawking random Mao lighters) of the Great Wall, we duly overslept. Instead we went to the Forbidden City, which is where the Emperor used to reside. No common folk could ever see the place, and trespassers were punished by death. In fact the only men, who were not part of the royal family, allowed inside the Forbidden City were eunuchs. You know, dudes with their balzacs cut off. According to a guidebook, there used to be a special chair with a specially placed hole for the procedure.
Below is Seth, happy he did not have to sit in that chair to enjoy the Forbidden City.
--
In one of the courtyards, they were some pretty cool rock formations, on top of which sat some pagodas.
--
A view of the Forbidden City from a hill where the last Ming Emperor (of the 2nd to last Chinese Dynasty) hanged himself as Manchu invaders overtook the Forbidden City and started their own dynasty, the Qing, who popularized/mandated the famous queue hairstyle (the long, braided pony tail, with the head shaved in the front half). You know, like in the scenes in Shanghai Noon. Or was it Shanghai Nights?
--
We also checked out Tiananmen Square, billed as the largest public square in the world. Seth, emboldened by the all the Chinese spitting into trash cans (yet ignoring the "hocking factor"), decides to demonstrate his own travel etiquette and intrepid disposition towards flossin' 24/7.
I need to figure out where to get some of these wheels. --
This type of mish mash hodgepodge scene is quite common in China. You just get used to it. It's like Chinatown. "Serenity now!"
--
So when you come across sights like this*, it's like where am I?! Serenity? For reals?
China never ceases to surprise and amaze me.
*Houhai Lake right in Beijing proper. --
It's interesting to see the differences regarding outdoor recreational proclivities. Here is some more footage of outdoor Chinese electric sliding and badminton, of course. I like how dude tries to overhead slam the feather shuttle (just googled that) into the face of the girl a la Dumb and Dumber and the snowball fighting scene.
I also went to play hoops at this athletic complex near Tiananmen Square. As you can see, the younger generation also digs soccer and basketball, which is apparently now the number one sport in China.
Of course I failed to get good footage, but China got some young lil' ballers. The main difference is that people don't talk trash on the playground. Or maybe they do, but in a very polite tone of voice and I just can't understand. "Ni hao, your momma got a peg leg with a kickstand."
--
I played on the Nike courts. Apparently there is an Adidas complex elsewhere. It was like 95 degrees that day. In retrospect maybe not the best day to end my physical exertion hiatus.
Keeping it real in China. More straight loungin' 3-wheel(non)motion style.
-- Straight loungin' New York style. East Village wha!!
(This picture was sitting in my computer for the past 2 years waiting for that special moment to be shared with the world. That moment has arrived.)
--
In other news, just got internets installed in my apartment. This is huge. Sky is the limit baby baabaaaaay. More posts with more regularity like x to the lizzax.
Apparently the Powers-That-Be were distributing these graphic pamphlets/tissues packs the other day. You know, to help spread the message about not spitting. Onto the street. Spitting into the trash receptacle? YES!!! "Now, foreigners here to see the Olympics won't think Chinese people lack manners!"
What is ironic about this message, or rather what this message overlooks is the hocking factor. Chinese people like to get they hock-a-loogie on. We know this. But it's not just the loogie that is repugnant. We can't forget about the hocking. Hooooooccccckkkkkkkkk. Even old ladies do it. Like you're walking down the street and you hear: hoooooccckkkkkkk!!!!! You turn around and can't help but go, "Cah mon now, that ish is gross grandma!"
I guess it's like Pfife Dawg once said, "You get an E for effort and T for nice try."
--
Just bought a blender. Smoothies back in e.f.f.e.c.t. Except frozen strawberries are like $15 here. How come nobody told me about the Freeze-The-Fruit premium in China? Luckily I managed the wherewithal to buy some Asian pears (USD .35) and put them in my freezer myself. Cause I'm crazy like that.
Anyway, my smoothie-making (word to Randy Moss!) resumption reminded me of another cultural difference I've found here in China. See sometimes the customer is not right here. Like no means no and that's that. For example, a while back a couple of colleagues, Viviane and Adam, and I went to get some fresh juice at this fresh juice joint.
Viviane orders a watermelon juice. The juicemaker takes some watermelon pieces and drops them into the juicer. I spy some sliced pears behind the counter, so I order a pear juice. The juicemaker takes the pear slices and drops them into the juicer. Figgy figgy fresh!
Then Adam steps up. He scans the fruit selection behind the counter. Oranges. Bananas. The proverbial light bulb goes off. "Can I have an orange and banana?"
Blank stare.
The juice maker finally responds, "Huuhhhwwwhhaaaaatttt???!!!!" (Lil' Jon-style.) OK, maybe I embellish.
The juicemaker looks at Adam, mutters "orange and banana" like he's crazy, and replies: "NO."
Adam is incredulous. "Are you serious? Why not?"
The juicemaker points to the posted menu. "Orange banana juice is not on the menu. Besides you can't put oranges and bananas together!"
"Yes, you can. You put those oranges right there and those bananas and you put them in the juicer."
"NO!!" Case closed.
Viviane quite enjoyed her watermelon juice. I thought my pear juice was quite refreshing. Adam wasn't all that impressed with his banana sans orange juice.
So I bought some wheels the other day cause you know I gotta stay fresh. (Couldn't find any 3-wheel action).
-- Brand spanking new, we talking about USD 30. That's how I roll. Only Hi-Quarity. With a kickstand. Act like you know.
Then somebody jacked my bike last night. Dayam Debo. --
Anyway, got a chance to go back to the MIDI Fest this past Friday.
Besides that last act in the video clip, a lot of the bands were not, well, mindblowing. I had to remind myself how new all this "youth culture" is for China's young generation. It's kind of developing in a vacuum, with no real precedence besides the good ol' propaganda songs ("Socialism Rules!").
One thing about the Midi Festival I noticed was the relative ease in getting a beer. Given that thousands of people were there, the wait was only 5 minutes. In the US I would imagine at least a 20-30 minute wait. Not sure if this is related, but the crowd did seem rather sober...
Scanning the crowd, though, the festival felt quite similar to a music festival back home. Obviously a lot the kids are taking their cue from outside, such as USandA.
For example, saw some Chinese Slayer looking dudes.
-- Some crowd surfing.
-- Sk8 or die little sha!
-- The electronic music stage starting to get warmed up.
-- Trees.
-- Lee Jeans had an arts and crafts booth for people to make their own t-shirts. Commerce + DIY!
-- Megadeth plus Lou Vee. Obviously.
-- Vendors hawking their wares. "Dude the rainbow-colored clown wig is sooooo last year. Have you seen our all-purple one?"
-- "Are you sure a medium will fit me? Can I just try this on?" -- Some Mr. T fans.
--
As Nas once said: One mic. (plus one meat on a stick).
Yesterday checked out the Midi Festival at Haidian Park. Started 7 years ago by the Beijing Midi School of Music, this lil' shindigger is now the largest outdoor music festival in China, where bands come from all over the provinces to showcase "what they got." This year there was the main stage, the rock stage, the electronic music stage, the hip hop stage, and the MIDI/avant-garde stage (i.e., bleep bleep boop stage).
Found this clip covering last year's festival by danwai.org, who wondered if the DIY spirit would be totally overrun by the emerging commercial forces behind the event.
-- Well at least imagery of DJing is not getting commecialized in China.
-- These guys were my crowd MVP's.
--
A view of the festival grounds from behind the hip hop stage. The park security guards wear gloves so you know not to mess with them. (One of the guys was later drinking a beer. Rock on!)
-- My new favorite Chinese rappers, C.O.U. Hilarious. (Unintentional hilarity?)
-- I took some video footage of this Mongolian rock band and the China DMC champion, DJ Wordy, but there was too much audio distortion. Sucks. Anyway, this Mongolian group had this singer that was pretty dope. Apparently a traditional Mongolian singing style entails using the back-lower throat. To me it sounded like when people imitate smokers, who have had a tracheotomy.
DJ Wordy was definitely legit with his wicky wicky's, but my favorite was this dance troupe. It was kind of like they were performing for a talent contest, as they were very earnest and had great outfits. Well see for yourself.
--
And your boy, for those of you that try to act like they don't remember:
Thought this Chicago intersection somewhat symbolizes my situation right now in the motherland. Which way do I go?!
-- Except in the motherland there are more bikes and Chinese people.
--
Anyway, I just got back to Beijing from Chicago (congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Thurston!) and am jetlagged like a muhfugga. It was my first visit back to North America since moving to China, and it was interesting to see America through the lens of a neophyte Beijinger. Like the air is so clean! Time moves really sloooooooow. Amellica is truly the land of the plentiful. Where are all the Chinese people?!
Also interesting to come back and (try to) explain my time in America to my Chinese teacher, who's never been outside of China.
Me: Well I didn't really have time to study my Chinese because I had no time.
Teacher: What were you doing?"
Me: [I try to look up "DJing" in my Chinese-English dictionary...no entry.] Uh, I was "preparing" music.
Teacher: You were composing music?
Me: No, no, I was well, uh, visiting friends and my parents also were in Chicago.
Teacher: What's "Chicago?"
Me: It's a city. You know, like Michael Qiaodan?
Teacher: [Blank look] Is it near New York?
Me: No, it's far.
Teacher: How many hours by car?
Me: Well my parents took a plane* to Chicago.
*I almost say, "Well my parents spanked that monkey to Chicago," but correct myself at the last second. Phew. You see in Chinese, when you want to say "spank that monkey" you apparently just say "hit airplane." Which is not that far off from saying "take airplane," especially for somebody who speaks really bad Chinese. [Did I just write the words "parents" and "spank that monkey" in the same sentence?!!]
Anyway, things I already miss about USandA:
1. Reeeibbs. Word to Gale Street Inn. Ain't no "probably" here.
-- 2. Straight lounging with my homeslices and homeslicettes on fatty couches.
-- 3. Tautological rap at its finest.
Can we take a moment to ponder the profundity? You see this guy, MIMS? He's hot for the following reasons. He is hot because, well, he is fly. And us? Well we are not hot because, well, we are just not (hot). Got it? And that is why he is so hot.
Modern day Descartes.
And since I'm in China this beat is not getting played out, so it's still pretty bonkers.
Just got into Chi-town. People are "bigger-boned" here, and I can't help but notice how clean the air is. FYI: not as many Chinese people here.
Anyway things been kind of hectic in the motherland and have not had chance to update this piece as frequently as I'd like. Below is an anecdote from when I first moved into my apt.
-- China. Anything is possible.
My first night after moving into my apartment, I go grocery shopping at the Western grocery shop, Jenny Lou's. I head back to my new crib with a huge jug of water, ramen noodles, chips, paper towels, toilet paper, etc. It is getting late, and there is not much lighting on my street. In NY, this lack of lighting would probably give me pause at this hour, but since I'm in China (and a cab driver told me China is very safe still so you know that fact has got to be true) I am not as concerned. Walk up to the front entrance where a few hours earlier I had brought in my 2 suitcases with all my worldly possessions in this hemisphere.
The gate is now locked. I wasn't given a key for this gate. I just have keys to my apartment door locks.
Hmmmmm.
I wonder if this is something akin to the non-24 hour elevator attendant system, where after midnight residents have to hoof it up the stairs. Is it some residual communist thing where Central Command dictates that you must be back in your home unit by 12am or it's tough t*tty for you? I am lugging all these groceries, and for those of you who know me well certainly know I do not take great pleasure in lugging. I hate lugging in fact.
I walk around to the left of the building, lugging. No other entrance. I walk to the right, lugging. I see some guys go into a building next to mine. I think maybe there is an entrance through the basement that connects the 2 buildings. I follow them down the steps, lugging. At a distance of course. Lugging all these groceries, I'm not trying to signal any intimations that I'm creeping on a come up. Enter this basement, and the surroundings remind me of Fight Club. I hear all this yelling from various directions. A Chinese Tyler Durden? Do people actually live down here? It is also reminiscent of Zion from the Matrix (not from Ludlow St). So surreal. Where the fock am I?!!!
I decide to lug me and my groceries right back up to the street. I am at a loss. I call Uncle Andy and rouse him from bed.
"Hey Uncle Andy, sorry to bother you so late, but is it possible the building locks its front entrance so that there is no access later at night?"
"Well it's China, so anything is possible."
Great. Not what I was hoping to hear in the near pitch dark standing in front of the locked gate, lugging groceries. I am about to toss my groceries over the fence and climb over, but then I see some people walk out of this entrance down the block. I decide to investigate, and I find this walkway that leads me down some circuitous, dimly lit path to the back of my...building. Home sweet home.
-- Speaking of my abode, this is where the magic (of my Chinese absorption) happens. My laoshi (teacher) comes to my place five times a week, and I figured out how to record her--hence the headset--onto my computer for my own personalized Chinese podcasts. Word to the ni hao .
--
Below is one of the local 24-hour fruit stands that plastic wrap the fruit, which for some reason reminds me of the couches in Coming to America.
-- Read a pretty funnyNYTimes article today, which called to mind a sign I saw in an elevator to Q Bar, where I made my Beijing DJing debut.
And of course this sign led me to wonder what Flavor Flav would think.
