A Canadian in Beijing: First Official Concert in China

by Ember Swift on

I am happy to reprt that my first official concert here in Beijing was a complete success. By “first official concert,” I mean the first “Ember Swift” show in Beijing and not a show that is part of another event or a performance that is supporting another artist or band. This concert took place on May 23rd @ Yu Gong Yi Shan ???????? and it felt like a historical moment for my career.

I had nine weeks to gather enough contacts, friends, supporters and fans and I am thrilled to say that the people came. I did an email and a text call-out in both Chinese and English (the Chinese took me some time and some help, but it was nearly error-free!) and the crowd was a mixture of people I have met in the women’s community, the music community, the student community and this city in general. I felt loved and supported.

Thanks everyone!

When I arrived, the sound tech was already there and we did a leisurely sound check that stretched into almost an hour. I practiced some songs while they worked on their recording gear. It was wonderful to play through a professional P.A. again and I casually ran through a variety of my material and enjoyed the full sound.

I had advertised the show at nine o’clock, but of course the times were extended and I didn’t go on stage until after ten. Still, everyone was patient and the opening act warmed the room up with some folk and traditional singing from China’s northern regions.

I was particularly touched that a large number of my classmates came to the show. Our “Ban Zhang 班长” (or class president – the equivalent term in North America) planned the outing that included a big group dinner and then a trip downtown for my show. Since I live in Wudaokou and most of my class does as well, this is a long journey for everyone and requires some organization. Getting home after the subway stops running (which is quite early, i.e. before eleven o’clock at night) also requires paying for a taxi or hiring a large vehicle and I was moved that so much organization went into attending my performance. In a class of twenty-one students, twelve came and I think that’s incredible.

Otherwise, two different music producers were in attendance as well as a local music label manager, a tour promoter (or agent), a local filmmaker with her camera as well as some friends I had casually met at various functions, both ex-pat and Chinese alike. It was a great mix of people and I felt so happy to see the crowd growing in numbers right up until I took to the stage and even during the first half of my performance.

The show began with me welcoming the crowd and introducing myself in Chinese. Then, I told the audience in Chinese that “I am here, you are there and it’s lonely over here!” That was my way of saying “come closer” and they laughed at my roundabout Chinese and got the picture. Everyone gathered closer to the stage and cheered me on before I had even begun.

I managed to continue the whole show in Chinese, as well, and felt incredibly proud of myself for not slipping into English, which would have been so easy to do considering the diversity of cultures present. Despite the fact that many people know English, Chinese is the standard here and I really wanted to respect that. At one point, I had to resort to my notes and I read an introduction rather than reciting it by memory.

My fluency is not there yet and I stumble and pause a lot when I speak, which actually makes it really hard to understand me. I lose the rhythm of the language when this happens and I find that I have to attach my words more quickly to be understood. In this way, Chinese is like music; without the rhythm, the melody has no meaning! Reading the introduction made a big difference and they were great about it. I think the point is that I am trying. I can only hope that I’m getting better, but I must be. Every day is a struggle and every day I learn something more. Three months in not enough time for fluency, but it’s a start.

During the Chinese song that I’ve learned (the very famous “Yue Liang Dai Biao Wode Xin 月亮代表我的心“) I asked the audience to sing with me and the whole place raised their voices. It was a beautiful moment and I extended the song just to hear the crowd sing the chorus one more time.

When the show ended, I was told right away that I had sold out of CDs and DVDs long before I had finished performing. I had only brought as many as would fit in my bag and so I am hoping that people will come to my June shows if they are interested in buying some music. Otherwise, the cost of purchasing the CDs over the Internet is way too high in comparison to the currency here and so I don’t imagine that anyone will place an overseas order. I’m selling them for only fifty kuai (about $7.00 Canadian), which only barely covers my base costs (i.e. manufacturing and recording costs). I figured that since brand new CDs are thirty kuai in the stores, selling them for any more would be really tough to do. All in all, no one has balked at the fifty kuai price tag. I suppose they are used to expensive overseas products and my CDs are relatively cheap compared to what I’ve seen at other shows.

The night was a great success. I felt the beginnings of a fan base here in China and I can only hope that this will grow into June. When I return to this country with my band next year, at least I’ll have a foundation in Beijing and that’s a great starting place.

I waved goodbye to everyone at the door as they filed out. Finally, I felt complete here in China; combining both my love for this language and culture and my love for music and performing. Here was a chance to show people my full spectrum and I felt welcomed with open ears.

(This last picture shows me and the Ban Zhang whose Chinese name is “Zheng Xiao Zhe 郑晓哲.” He is a super kind man from Korea who provided most of these pictures, as well, so thank you so much for letting me use them!)

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.

How to Take a Bath in Half a Bucket of Water

by Jamie Rhein on

When I went on a nine day trek in Ladakh , India a few years back there were adolecent girls on the trip. Somehow, no matter how remote a location we were in when we camped for the night, they managed to wash their hair. All I know is, they would head off somewhere into the distance and come back with towels wrapped around their heads. It was amazing.

When I was in the Peace Corps, though, I could take two or three decent baths with one regular size bucket of water. One of the assistant Peace Corps directors did show us some tips while we were in training by doning a bathing suit, filling a bucket and grabbing a large plastic cup with a handle. Since I lived in a village for two years with no running water–I hauled water from a well with a vegetable oil can bucket and a long rope, I became pretty savvy with water use.

Here are some bucket bath tips:

You will need.

  • One regular size bucket (not so big that you can’t carry it) filled with water
  • One large plastic cup or a small plastic pitcher that has a handle

The technique:

1. Stand close to the bucket, and dip your cup in the water. Stretch out your other arm (the one not holding the cup) so that your hand and fingertips are over the bucket of water. Pour the water over your head so that the water runs off the opposite side of your head over your shoulder, down your arm and back into the bucket. Keep repeating this proceedure lowering your arm little by little each time until one side of your body totally wet. To wet your back, stand with your rear almost over the bucket and pour the water carefully onto your upper back allowing it to roll over the rest of you. Some of the water will find its way back into the bucket.

2. Once one side of your body is wet, repeat the process but switch arms. When your body is totally wet, wet the soap by pouring water over it. Do not put the soap in the bucket. The idea is to keep the water soap-free.

3. Soap up. For the body rinse cycle, repeat the process in step 1, but don’t put your hand over the bucket. Let the water fall to the ground. Again, keep the soap out of the bucket. For best results and low water use, start rinsing at the shoulders and angle your arms and hands so that the water will roll off to another part of your body. Keep repeating the process until all the soap is gone.

4. To wash your hair–lean you head over the bucket and wet your hair by pouring water over it, but making sure the extra water goes back in the bucket. Shampoo and then rinse with your hair over the ground instead of the bucket.

If you follow this method you may have a half a bucket of water left–more than enough to wash the dishes or take another bath. The photo is thanks to Zac Shepherd on Flickr. If you click on his photostream you’ll see some shots of The Gambia and Senegal with captions. The bed in the photo is the kind I had as well which drew me to this picture. The caption mentions how bucket baths helped Shepherd survive the Gambian dry season. Yes, those were the days.

For an overview of people’s experience bathing in Ghana, check out World Wise Schools Water in Africa page. World Wise Schools is a Peace Corps program designed for use by educators.