A Canadian in Beijing: Dancing the Bargaining Dance

by Ember Swift on

I have tried my best not to spend too much time at the markets here in Beijing. It’s easy to do. They’re addictive. I think it’s the action combined with the colours and the diversity of people you can see there. Not to mention the fact that “things” are so cheap here (by Canadian standards) that it’s hard not to get excited when you find a gift for a friend that costs a fraction of what it would back home.

And let’s not forget the bargaining.

One of my friends on campus, Daisy, is an expert bargainer. She is from France and she is just starting to learn Chinese. After only two months here studying the language, she has mastered most of the bargaining lingo and she chats easily with the shopkeepers in a dance that I find highly entertaining. Watching Daisy bargain is like watching a stage show by an expert choreographer. It’s not just her words but also her facial expressions – the disdain, the disgust, the surprise – and then her exaggerated body language that communicates a complete and utter disregard for the item in question no matter how much she would like to purchase it.

It’s awesome.The first time I went shopping with Daisy, I felt as though I should apprentice with her when it comes to bargaining; she is the master and I am the student and I watched her technique closely for subtlety and style. She has a gift.

Here in Beijing, there are several kinds of large shopping complexes. So far, I have experienced the “Yaxiu” markets down near Sanlitun area (very geared towards tourists) as well as the Wudaokou Fuzhuan markets which are here near my school. Both markets were vast and carry stall upon stall of stuff, stuff, stuff. Both feature overpriced clothing to start with that can be bargained down to a reasonable compromise after engaging in the dance. Both are exhausting, in that enjoyable kind of way.

Yaxiu markets is a huge building with several floors. Each floor has its own character. There are floors that feature only accessories like belts and purses, another for children’s wear, another for adult clothing, another for silks and materials, etc. We only spent time on three different floors before we left again, but I managed to bargain myself into two new t-shirts and a pair of jeans – with pant legs mercifully long enough for my tall self.

We noticed the presence of lots of foreigners at Ya Xiu and the obvious mark-up on the clothing as a result. As soon as a shopkeeper saw us, I felt sure that the price doubled thanks to our appearance. Clothing that I’d seen in the Wudaokou markets for just fifty or sixty kuai was suddenly being quoted at two-hundred kuai here. A standard response of ours was “tai gui!” (too expensive!) which was always responded to with “wo gei ni pianyi yidiar” (I’ll give it to you cheaper!)

Well, of course they will – otherwise, where’s the dance?

Daisy came away with several bags worth of skirts, shirts and shoes. I asked her how she was going to be able to send all these clothes back to France with her and she said that she probably wouldn’t send them home. “They wear out too quickly anyway,” she said, “They’ll probably break before I need to go home!”

And herein lies the problem:

When I first arrived and was asking about markets, my friend Traci said this to me: “The great thing about China is that the clothing is cheap.” Then she paused for a moment and followed that up with, “But the bad thing about China is that the clothing is cheap.” I laughed at these double meanings, but it’s so true. These clothes aren’t made to last, to be sure, and Daisy’s approach is one of many.

For me, I have been trying to avoid these markets because I can easily get sucked into the incredible discounts and the fun clothes. I don’t want to contribute to all this consumerism, but I’m as susceptible as the next person. What I know to be true is that the more I buy here, the more will be made and the more this cycle (and production) of disposable goods will be fuelled. I have already had to sew a tank top I bought a few weeks ago because the stitching came undone at the seams. I’m working on a moderation theory. I’ll let you know how it goes!

The Wudaokou markets are more casual than Yaxiu. Fewer tourists and lower prices to start with, narrower passageways, and just as much stuff. There are also food stalls, manicure booths, stationary stalls and I even saw a whole stall devoted to custom sticker making. Outside, there are merchants selling goods out of the backs of their cars. It’s a circus and I love it. I stand in the midst of the chaos and smile.

Then, I turn and see Daisy in the midst of another choreographed bargaining scene and I take a look at what she’s after. She’s handing a pair of shoes back to the shopkeeper gruffly and she’s at the point where she is not only poised to leave but actually walking away, flippant and irritated. This is the “piece de resistance” because it generally gets her the price she wants. The shopkeeper will fear losing the sale and concede to her final offer by calling her back as though this amount is her name. Today was no exception. Money was exchanged, the shoes went into a bag and the bag went into her hand.

I saw a smile flash in her eyes but she kept her cool and showed no reaction in front of the merchant.

She’s my new shopping hero.

Pictured from left to right are David (Canada), Daisy (the shopping hero from France!), Daniel (South Africa) and Tobias (Switzerland). These are some of my dorm friends here at Beijing Language and Culture University.

A Canadian in Beijing: Vegetarian Party at Peking University

by Ember Swift on

In the South Hall of the ????Beida (Peking University) library building, Beijing hosted its first annual “Vegetarian Party” on Thursday, May 17th, 2007. I met the organizer about four weeks earlier and I was excited about this event as a way to connect with more vegetarians (or vegans) in my community. Beida is just down the road and so I knew I would be in attendance. Several of my friends had also heard of it and were going.

Funny enough, when I met the organizer, I was with another friend of mine (Will) who is also a vegetarian. Will recommended that I play the event to the organizer (Howard) and we exchanged numbers that night. I never did hear from Howard but I was still keen on attending. After all, I had heard through the grapevine that there would be free food! (Musician Rule #1=always accept free food!)

It wasn’t until Monday the 14th that I also heard through the grapevine that I was performing at the event! Yes, some wires got crossed and Howard thought that Will had confirmed it with me and Will thought that Howard was handling it. It was one of my classmates who told me about my own gig! I have to laugh about it now, as it reminds me of my performance career ten years ago and how unsure everything was.

But, I’m a good sport.

I called up Howard and firmed up the details, prepared some songs and told some friends. No time to do any heavy promotion or anything, but it was a chance to get back out there as a performer in this city and to warm up before my big gig on the 23rd.

When I arrived, the room was in disarray and reminded me of my primary school’s auditorium. A tall stage on one side and chairs that link together like a lecture hall in tight rows pushed to both sides. They had tables in the middle that were being put together for the food and several volunteers were hastily trying to put up posters and prepare the audio-visual material. They had built out a shorter stage made of plywood that brought the performance closer to the chairs (a good thing) and the sound system was still being patched together. All in all, I was early. With sound checks, this is often the case.

Eventually, the sound system was ready for me and I put my pedals together and set my own levels at the sound desk. The sound guys weren’t sure what I was doing but they let me show them what I wanted. It was simple and I easily sound checked and then sat back down to wait some more and people-watch.

People were already arriving.

Eventually, the audio-visual material was running footage from American and European animal rights groups (with Chinese subtitles) and they were showing factory farming and meat production factories. It could easily have been PETA material, but I’m not sure and didn’t get a chance to ask anyone. I have seen such footage before, but one of my Chinese friends had not and he was shocked to see the beaks being snipped off of baby chicks. This, to me, was part of the point of such an event. I was happy to witness even one person learning about these behind-the-scenes atrocities. Because really, it’s all about awareness, right?! The choice is every individual’s to make but the information (with which to make an informed choice) is what is often lacking.

The place was filling up and there were probably about two hundred people in the room by the time the first act was done and “supper” was ready. Were they all vegetarians? Well, my friends weren’t. The curiosity was something, though, and I hope that some of the flyers may have been picked up and the option to be vegetarian was adequately promoted, if nothing else.

The rush to the food table was quite a sight to see. I didn’t even get up but instead relied on the generosity of my friends to grab me some food amidst the disorganized crowd. People came at the table from all directions and it looked like a giant mess. I just hoped that what came back to me was vegan. All the food was made in the western food style such as pizza (not vegan), pasta salad, lettuce salad, white bread sandwiches and pastries. All were pretty tasteless, actually, but I ate what I could, felt a bit homesick when I saw the excessive use of disposal plastic plates and bowls (i.e. vegetarian events back home see their untenable connection to the environment and generally use re-usable or biodegradable supplies), and then watched the next band: The Giant Beanstalk.

They were a scream rock group that had the added flavour of some traditional drumming that was quite well executed. Otherwise, their sound was so bad that many people left during their set. The show didn’t do their profile any favours thanks to the lack of knowledge behind the sound desk and the high reverberant ceilings that swallowed the vocals and tripled the volume of the drums. Still, they gave it their best shot and they never let down the rock’n roll moves or attitude. Gotta give credit where credit is due.

I was the next performer and throughout my show, the sound techs (students) changed everything I had set countless times and I wasn’t sure what was going on. Sound was not at a premium in this gymnasium-style room and so I really couldn’t do much but forge ahead with my quick set and ride my guitar amp levels as best as possible to compensate for their fiddling. Some things never change regardless of country or language!

My friends had never seen me play before and I felt shy that this was the quality of performance that they were seeing, but they were kind nonetheless. (Well, I guess I’m being too hard on myself with that comment.) My voice was clear and audible in the room and my Chinese fared rather well. I also sang a song in Chinese that I have recently learned and it was a huge success. I was professional and relaxed. The room was warm in response and when I finished, I had a few conversations with happy listeners in both Chinese and English. (So, there’s some more positive reflections!)

After my set, some kids were invited onto the stage to talk about how long they have been vegetarians. They were so cute and talked into the mike in simple Chinese so that even I could understand what they were saying.

Then, a little girl of about nine or ten years old came onto the stage. She was wearing a frilly party dress and carried herself with the seriousness of a born artist. She confidently sat behind a “古筝 Gu Zheng” (traditional Chinese instrument) and played a song with a furrowed brow for the now sparse crowd. She was so intent and sweet looking that when she was done there were lots of flashing cameras at her smiling, satisfied face.

What a treat to open for her.

I wish her a long life filled with vegetarian food, good health, and music at her fingertips.

A Canadian in Beijing: Being Light

by Ember Swift on

Here I am in my eighth week here in Beijing and I realize that I have been a bit slack this week in keeping you up-to-date about my experiences. In just four days, I will be exactly two-thirds of the way through my trip. There is so much to write about and so little time. Life has wrapped me up here in the summer sunshine and I am lolling in a hammock of activity. It’s perfect: a contradiction of being both busy and blissfully relaxed.

There’s really two reasons for not writing as much this week: first of all, as just mentioned, I’ve had a hard time finding the time to write about one event before another has swept me up into its pace. The second reason is that I have been intermittently traumatized by the absurd response to one my posts that was linked to through AOL. As of today, it has had more than 100,000 hits which has resulted in so many hideous, xenophobic comments and accusations towards this amazing culture and towards me as a writer here. (I used the word “intermittent” above because I have had moments when I have been more amused, and thus reassured, rather than traumatized. I suppose there is a balance in everything.)

How does a writer recover? Well, this writer has stepped back this week to truly take in this experience of living in Beijing. I really wanted to spend the week feeling this city and culture fully so that this next post could be a true reflection on my time so far, as a whole, rather than just on one experience or interesting fragment of such a vast spectrum of light. I know that fragments make good stories, but receiving such surprising feedback to that one post has made me suddenly feel as though perhaps these posts are incomplete. After all, it’s impossible to show you the panorama of my China experience with just one story. I could suggest reading each and every post (and some of you do, so thank you!) but with this post today, I’m hoping that I can give some sort of summary of what it’s been like so far.

I’ll start with a handful of the practical things:

Since arriving, I have learned some great lessons. For one, I’ve located plenty of vegan food and I am eating extremely well now that I have enough language skills to order correctly in restaurants and to read labels in the supermarket. When I don’t, I know enough to be able to ask clarity or grab the arm of one of my Chinese friends and hope they’ll accompany me to the grocery store! Also, I no longer have to be in a vegetarian restaurant to eat. I know what I can eat and what I can’t and I know what is “safe” vegan food and what isn’t. All in all, my health is steady (and I’m over my cold!) and I feel strong.

I have also learned to always put my toilet tissue in my front pocket of my jeans and not my back pocket. When squatting, your pants are pulled down and so the back pocket of your jeans finds itself sandwiched tightly between the backs of your thighs and your calf muscles, thus making it impossible to fetch the paper without standing up again. Simple thing, you think? Well it has taken me weeks to remember that “the front pocket is the place for toilet tissue,” aka: my mantra. I’ve even had to repeat it quietly to myself before putting the tissue in my pocket. I was slow in the uptake on that one!

Finally, and probably most importantly, I have friends here and a flourishing community. I feel part of a crew in several different scenes and it’s a great feeling. There’s no end of social opportunities and I feel connected to several thriving urban worlds and aware of what’s going on. With all the travelling I do back home and now living the country, I sometimes feel detached from “scenes.” Returning to this reality is like living in Toronto ten years ago for me. It’s been great fun. I haven’t had any problems fitting in or making contacts and I love the clarity that I’m finding in the exchanges I’m having. So much openness and care and love. These will be lasting connections, I have no doubt.

And, on a more philosophical note:

Being in China has been incredibly liberating. There is a heaviness that has lifted from my chest that I didn’t even realize I was carrying. It lifts a little more every day and, despite the air quality here, I’m breathing better than I have in years and I feel more alive than I ever imagined. Lighter. In my life back home, I am planned and organized. My schedule is laid before me in a neat pile of itineraries and scheduling. I love my life, don’t get me wrong! I love the travel and the performances and the gift of making music every day. I am incredibly lucky! But I had forgotten what a joy it could be to have *no plans* except living.

Some of my friends at home have told me that I’m too serious. I think too much at the best of times. I often have to push my mind aside to make room for my heart. I over-analyze and apply a certain degree of importance to every decision, so much so that I find meaning in everything and/or assign meaning to everything. This hyper consciousness has served me well and has meant that I am alert and aware and present in my life. The downside, however, is that I rarely allow myself to just bounce off life like light on a city, never knowing where my beams will refract and reflect and, furthermore, not presupposing its path to ready myself for any consequences or results. I rarely just wait and see… how it all feels.

Because after all, light is just light. I am just another human being here. Light will travel as I have done and it need not be assigned great importance, though nor should its affect be unappreciated. I’m paying attention to its beams, hitching a ride and taking notes. Somewhere in the middle is an equilibrium that has shocked me with its simplicity. Beijing makes me feel both small and enormous in my potential.

China has lit me up.

Which brings me to my role here as a writer, too. I’m here to tell you about my experiences. Sometimes, I find some cultural practices hard to understand, but I am overwhelmed by humility here – hyper aware that I am a foreigner coming with a foreign perspective and there will be much that I don’t understand. I am learning so much every single day and this learning is incredibly nourishing. My respect for Chinese culture and the Chinese people whom I have met here grows exponentially with every new character learned, every new personality I’m introduced to, every new cultural practice that I am taught and invited to take part in. It is all a great privilege and I am typing this with a gratitude that I had no idea my heart could feel. It’s immense.

This past week, I have also had the wonderful opportunity to include my art in this experience. I know I already had a gig in April, but this really felt like my first gig this week. It was a great success and really was the experience that showed me that I have built a real community here of both friends and supporters and contacts. Since then, I have performed yet again (last night) and I’ve yet to tell you in great detail about either show. I have much to report and I ask you to just be patient for my slightly anachronistic posts this coming week. I’m busy gathering some additional photos as well, which always makes a post more interesting, as I’m sure you’ll agree.

All in all, I will hold the next four weeks close to my chest. The word Beijing is just one letter away from the word “being.” I have often made this typo since arriving and I realize now how appropriate this missing “j” is to my experience.

Being here is truly being.

Alive.

In love.

China.

A Canadian in Beijing: Capital Museum A Total Snooze

by Ember Swift on

I suppose if I weren’t so tired today our class trip to the Beijing Central Museum (or, ????????????: Shoudu Bowuguan) would be more interesting to me. As it stands, we’ve been here for two hours and I’m bored out of my mind. I’ve even returned to the bus early (the eventual meeting place) because I couldn’t stand the sterility of the experience any longer. My legs were so tired from the endless walking that I’m even sitting on the ground out here and, as you know, that’s not something I advocate in Beijing!

I’m just not into it. What does this say about me?

I’m actually really interested in history and I find stories of the past fascinating. I love to learn about the places I visit and how they have come to develop into what they are under my feet and before my eyes. Where a place has come from and how it has journeyed and why — I love that stuff. So, why couldn’t I get into this museum, I wonder?

The museum is a beautiful modern building made of glass and marble and full of architectural wonder. It has only been open in this current location since December 19, 2006. It is 60,000 square metres in size, five floors with escalators and elevators between each and it can accommodate up to 2,000 visitors per day. It’s majestic, really, and the photos really don’t do it justice.

It’s gorgeous. Every display is well-placed and “just so.” In fact, I think that’s the problem. I have this overwhelming feeling that this place has been over thought, and now the information being communicated about China’s history also seems over thought, as though a huge committee sat around a giant table both approving and vetoing what I should or should not be told as a visitor. Or perhaps it’s more like what I could or could not be told. I became more and more agitated by the descriptions of history with every room that I eventually just found a bench inside and watched people instead.

But, what do I know? My learning is as limited as the next person’s – it’s through my Canadian cultural lens, education, reading material, etc. – and so I can’t claim to know what “really happened.” Still, I know well enough that the rise of the republic in China was not all glory and accomplishment. There was no mention of what the people went through throughout this transition (i.e. “The Cultural Revolution”) or even what they faced throughout the “Great Leap Forward” campaign just following the end of Feudalism in China. I saw no mention of the destruction of historical artifacts, literature, cultural relics; no mention of deaths by starvation or long-term incarceration; no mention of the dislocation of people and families throughout both movements. At least, no mention that I could see in English.

The signs in English were not as complete as the signs in Chinese, either. I know enough of this language to know that, but my ability to read all of the history-related characters was pretty limited and so I had to rely on these English translations which were, of course, full of written errors. I was really shocked to see such mistakes in such an official building. This is the Capital Museum of Beijing! I’m shocked that these errors made it through and I do hope that correcting these is on the “to do” list before the Olympics. I’m sure they’ll have lots of visitors through this museum at that time who will require the English as much (or more) than I did.


[I wished I had some sort of guide, but the computer kiosks offering more detail were entirely in Chinese and I didn’t learn until later that I could have rented an English headset (like I did at the Summer Palace) to accompany my walk. Oh well, I suppose I was meant to experience it as I was and these are my honest impressions.]

Last night, I went out again with my musician friends and checked out live music at Mao Live House (and played a couple of songs too) and so I really didn’t get much sleep. After awhile, my fatigue and my irritation with these language errors (not to mention what seemed to me to be an incomplete reflection of historical events) combined to make me stop reading these annoying signs altogether. Instead, I wandered slowly and aimlessly, looking at displays and snapping pictures until even this lackadaisical passivity got boring.

What’s more, (if you’ll permit me to complain just once more about this museum!), the displays were hardly interactive at all. There were lots of paintings, wood/clay models to peer at as well as plenty of items behind glass, but there was very little for the museum goer to do besides wander and snap pictures. I’ve perhaps become spoiled by places like The Science Centre in Toronto, but I’d have to say that my one trip to the Beijing Capital Museum is plenty for me. I don’t need to go back.

Time to board the bus that will take me “home” to my quiet dorm room so that I can take a nap.

May as well continue this snooze fest!

A Canadian in Beijing: A Full Bodhi Massage

by Ember Swift on

A couple of days ago, I went downtown to meet with my friend Stuart. I took the subway, of course, and emerged into a brilliant sunny day to see not one, but three tanned Australian smiles waiting for me at the top of the subway steps at the Beijing Zhan stop. Stuart works for a travel company called Intrepid Travel and he had brought two of his customers along and declared that we were all going for a massage.

In Australian English, this word has the emphasis on the first syllable so that is sounds like “MASS-auge.” I smiled to myself when I realized how appropriate this emphasis was today. The four of us piled into a cab and drove across town where we all sat in the same room and were simultaneously massaged, en masse.

It was an amazing experience!

When we arrived, I realized that I was back in the section of town that was my first introduction to Beijing. Just down the road was the hotel I stayed at on my first night, Worker’s stadium was across the street, the place I first met my friend Traci was just moments away and the venue at which I played my first Beijing gig was about a five-minute walk west (Yu Gong Yi Shan). All in all, Dong Ti Bei Lou seems to be the place to return to. It was nice to see landmarks I recognized.

The massage parlour (are they still called parlours?) was down a small alley and off to the left and is called Bodhi. A beautiful glass-covered stairway with a gurgling pond, swimming orange fish, and a modern wooden staircase carried us up into a beautiful lobby where the attendants greeted us in English and Chinese. Stuart had already “booked us in” and we were taken in almost immediately.

It is custom here to be massaged by the opposite sex and so two male attendants and two female attendants were called to duty. We were led down a labyrinth of dark hallways past many doorways draped by flowing curtains that swayed as we passed. Eventually, we found ourselves in a private room at the end of a main hall that held six recliners along the same wall, each with a footstool. We were all told to take off our shoes and relax awhile. Drinks were offered and the lighting was only the small cracks of sunshine that snuck through the closed venetian blinds. I felt sleepy immediately. What a luxury in the middle of the day!

We all piled into a recliner each and chatted easily while the attendants gathered their supplies. They brought in four large buckets of coloured warm water that looked to be the colour of red tea or a tea tree lake – a sort of ruddy brown. We rolled up our pant legs and put our feet in the buckets that were placed before us and then we were instructed to rise, turn around and sit on the footstools facing the recliners.

Here in China, a lot of massages are fully clothed, which I suppose further encourages the “en masse” environment. It becomes more of a social thing and less of a private experience this way. I didn’t mind. I’m learning to appreciate a massage with or without clothing on! Besides, my attendant was so handsome that it would be hard for me to imagine not being clothed. I would be way too shy for that! (And yes, I do have my shy moments just like everyone else.) All of my previous massage experiences have been with female massage therapists in North America so China has been new in this regard. . .

Each massage therapist proceeded to give us amazing back massages. In fact, before long the room was silent. My attendant was so good at massage that I lost my ability to hold a conversation as I felt the tension draining from my muscles. He used his hands, arms, wrists, and even his knee to manipulate my back and arms and I was suitably pliable within minutes. Eventually, I broke the silence with a quiet one-liner: “Good idea, Stuart!” and everyone laughed.

After the back massage, we were all spun around and led into our recliners again and our legs were raised one after the other onto the stool and massaged up to the knee. At this point, we got to chatting with the attendants and Stuart and I were translating for the other two who didn’t speak any Chinese. The conversation was full of kindness and positive exchange as we learned where each of the massage therapists was from and picked up some good slang and tips about Beijing.

I even had the occasion to hand out my new “ming pian” (business cards) that I had made here a few weeks ago (200 for only 40 kuai! That’s only $5.50 Canadian!) because they began to ask me about my life here and I spoke openly about my music and my career. Perhaps I’ll have made some new fans? Who knows. Handing out business cards seems to me to be the standard way to connect with people here and so I didn’t hesitate.

Just over an hour later, we were all loose, calm and ready for a nap. The lighting was still dim and when the attendants left the room and had formally finished, we all stayed in those big chairs for just a few more minutes not wanting to leave the cocoon of comfort and relaxation. Eventually, we put our shoes back on and strolled to the front to pay.

These massages weren’t exactly the cheapest in the world (80 kuai per person, I believe it was) but it was worth it. In the end, that’s only $11.31 in Canadian dollars and I haven’t a single complaint about the experience. I’d definitely return to Bodhi in the future.

We followed that up with a walk to a nearby outdoor café where we enjoyed a cold beer in the afternoon sunshine. That’s a Canadian summer tradition that I miss here – a cold beer on a hot summer’s day – and so it was great to indulge in “yi ping pijiu” (one bottle of beer) before I had to leave to connect with another friend that evening.

I said my goodbyes and then walked smoothly away, gliding through the air as though my limbs were lighter than light. I’m not sure if that was the buzz of the beer or the remnants of the massage but I didn’t care. I smiled as I walked and got smiles in return from strangers.

Free smiles.

The best kind.