Travelers who Take Their Talents On the Road

by Jamie Rhein on

Some folks, like Gadling’s own Ember Swift who is currently in China combining her life as a musician with her passion for travel, have talents that help get them overseas and maximize their experiences. Ember is writing about her high and low points in a series named A Canadian in Bejing.

Not only is using talents a way to see the world, but it’s the chance to connect in ways that are creatively, and perhaps, professionally pleasing. Andrew Mendelson, for example, used his Sitar playing to get him to India. This movie, “The Cricket in the Court of Akbar” shows him getting ready for the largest music competition in Rajasthan. This is more than just Andrew playing. There are also Interviews with various people who talk about Sitar music, the competition and what Andrew is up against. This video made me think that perhaps I ought to have actually practiced the flute more.

A Canadian in Beijing: My First Farewell

by Ember Swift on

My friend Sarah left yesterday and Beijing seems different now. Sarah was one of the people that I met on the Internet before coming. Well, actually, we met over email as she was one of several people who had been forwarded my proposal and my plans to come to Beijing. She wrote offering pointers and friendship for when I arrived. I took her up on both. It was Sarah who really provided my opening view into how Beijing works and where to check out the local scene. In fact, Sarah became one of my first friends here in China and I am really sad to see her go.

I have been told that I ought to get used to it. Ex-pats come and go here, some staying as little as a few weeks or a few months (like me) and others who stay a year or more on longer contracts or for longer school terms. There is a constant stream of greetings and farewells and the parties to go with it.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I also became the recipient of lots of Sarah’s “stuff” like her cookware, her bike, carpets for my dorm room and some excellent guide books to Beijing. I told her to make me her receptacle for any leftovers that she might not want to take back to Australia with her and I eagerly accepted whatever she had to offer. (Thank you Sarah!)

A few weeks ago, when she had to move out of her apartment early, I helped her down with her “stuff-to-keep” and we proceeded to get lots of weird looks for sitting on the dirty Beijing sidewalk with a bunch of random boxes and bags. Sarah lived here for six months already and so I can only imagine the huge transition it would be to dismantle one’s life and proceed to the next adventure. My guts twist around just thinking about leaving after three months here! We sat there together for about fifteen minutes waiting for a friend and then a taxi, just talking and taking it all in – the people, her neighbourhood and the whole experience of moving on.

A very loud elderly Chinese woman approached us and began to berate us about sitting in front of the stuff. She kept saying “you’re going to lose it” and it took me awhile to realize that she meant that we would lose the possessions because our eyes were not on them. Her anger was palpable and she reached over and wrenched my head around to look at the items, pushing my shoulders to face the bags as though I were a child that was ignoring her instructions. I was shocked by her forwardness – something I haven’t encountered in China very often – and several people walking by also stopped to witness the commotion. She got so frustrated with our confused facial expressions that she began to move the bags herself to position them in front of us rather than behind us, muttering to herself that we didn’t understand her and that we shouldn’t be so careless with these belongings.

I suppose her intentions were in the right place, but her approach was brutal and when she finally walked away, we were both visibly shaken by what felt more like an attack than assistance.

But then we laughed about it – finally – and the release was good. How else do you process such an experience, which is compounding something that is already hard?

And then, two weeks later, Sarah’s goodbye party last night was filled with people of from many different countries: Italy, Belgium, Australia, Canada, Austria, Indonesia, Malaysia, The United States and China. Even Jeni flew up from Shanghai and the place was filled with people who love Sarah and will miss her.

We all gathered at a bar called “Q-bar” that is located on the eastern side of the downtown and is a gorgeous, upmarket venue located above a hotel with couches and dim lights and menus in both English and Chinese. It even has a beautiful patio that we couldn’t sit on due to the light summery rain. Still, I would return there for sure, especially when I’m in the mood to feel closer to Toronto and/or wanting to see the lights of Beijing’s business district. It was great to feel lifted from the dirt of the sidewalks to the clean lines and crisp style of this modern bar.

When I left the party for home, I realized that a mini-era was coming to a close. My next phase here in Beijing will be without my friend Sarah who I have come to rely on for laughter, gossip and overall Beijing tour guide services (!) – not mention the most beautiful gift of all: her friendship.

I miss her already.

(Sarah: cut me some slack on posting this picture of you without permission, will ya?!)

A Canadian in Beijing: Goodbye Schmoozing, Ni Hao Guanxi

by Ember Swift on

On Monday night, I had a fabulous night of guanxi.

Guanxi, which literally means “relationship” or “relations” is a central concept in Chinese philosophy and represents one’s social standing and, therefore, social potential. I’ve heard this described also in terms of its obligations. By this, I mean that guanxi is very much about one’s role in exchange with others to both assist and seek assistance and thus maintain one’s intregity or “face” in society. Guanxi speaks to social status; if one properly maintains one’s guanxi, then the social group also maintains its strength. There’s mutual advantage to guanxi that cannot be overlooked.

Yes, it’s “what-can-you-do-for-me?” based, but it’s also “what-can-I-do-for-you?” Thus, not exploitative in nature (or else, mutually exploitative and condoned as such) and I like that.

In Canada, I can only relate this concept to the notion of “connections” or “making contacts” and by extension, an expression called “schmoozing” (commonly used in the arts industry). This expression has always held a negative connotation for me as it’s laced with the notion of sucking up and kissing the behinds of prominent figures in your field. There’s something that is inherently selfish about it.

I’ve never been one to schmooze. In fact, I usually avoid it.Unlike much of western culture that advocates such an individualistic notion of success, I find that guanxi is a concept that places more emphasis on the group integrity and takes longer to cultivate. There’s not as much competition or focus on being the “one” on top. I don’t sense that kind of competitive urgency here.

But, let me begin my story again: On Monday night, I had a fabulous night of guanxi.

I went to see my Canadian musician friends at Star Live, the same music venue at which I had seen Sonic Youth the week before. I was already in a good mood when I arrived because I had successfully found the place with little incident (getting lost in Beijing is becoming my norm!) and so when I walked up the stairs and saw Andy, the promoter for the Canadian touring bands who I met in Shanghai, I was full of smiles and so was he. He immediately greeted me and then asked if I had a ticket to the event. I said that I hadn’t bought one yet but was prepared to, and then he said “come with me,” and he whisked me by security, handing me a complimentary entrance ticket and pointed in the direction of the stage saying: “They’re up now. You’re just in time.”

VSH was on stage (well, without Suzie who had to go home early) and they were tearing it up. I sat at a front table and snapped some pictures and when they were done their set, I went around to the side of the stage to say hello.

Here, I met a man that is on tour with them acting as a tour manager named Norm. He, too, greeted me with a kind smile and grabbed my elbow to tug me back stage rather than side stage, past the security and into the room that was filled with sweaty Canadian musicians. They all greeted me with hugs and tired smiles (it was a night of double duty for each band — two venues and two shows each!) and I was immediately invited to hop on the tour bus and head to the other venue with them in order to catch their second set.

We headed down to “Nu Ren Jie” or “Lady Street” where a bar called “The New Get Lucky” is situated. I’ve been there a few times already and I was familiar with the venue. The owner, who I’ve met through Traci, gave me a smile and a nod of recognition.

I was helping my friends to set up when I heard my Chinese name being called out by a man at one of the tables. It was one of the men, Luo Yan, who had been on the picnic in Shidu on the weekend and he invited me over to his table and we started to talk. Turns out that he’s a bass player (for China’s “T Band”), a studio engineer and a record producer in the music business and he introduced me to some musicians who were sitting with him — four young men who are currently working on their album at his studio. I passed him my CD and press kit and he was truly excited to realize that we are in the same industry and that we’re both professional touring musicians! I was too.

My friends in the Canadian band were trying to do a sound check at this point and I could tell that they were having a hard time communicating and so I excused myself from Luo Yan’s group and started to translate between the stage and the sound person. Eventually, the sound person just motioned that I should take over and so I started to do the sound myself. Luo Yan also got up and helped by suggesting to me (in Chinese) what should specifically be changed in terms of detailed frequencies so that I could make more finite adjustments. (His studio ears were truly appreciated!) I literally saw the young men at Luo Yan’s table change their opinion of me from “foreign girl who sings” to “professional musician with technical knowledge.” It was just a flash in the air that seemed but was a tangible shift in the energy between us. It was a great feeling and VSH’s sound was pretty good after all.

Mid-way through their set, I was introduced to two women who turned out to be the arts contacts at the Canadian consulate! I spoke with them for some time about touring in China and they encouraged me to stay in touch with them as they can be helpful in terms of grant applications etc. What luck to meet them on this night when I was just riding a wave of spontaneous connections!

Then, as I’m heading outside for some fresh air between sets, a non-Chinese man comes through the door with a Chinese woman beside him. He was carrying a guitar and greeted another Canadian woman using English and with a Canadian accent. He looked at me with vague recognition and I looked at him with the same kind of look – that “where-have-I-seen-you-before,” cocked head of confusion. This man is Chairman George, a Canadian songwriter who performs in China in both Greek and Chinese and who lives in Ottawa, just an hour from where I live in Canada. Turns out that we’ve never really met but that we have some common “guanxi” back home and may have been at some of the same events. He offered to introduce me to some of his contacts in China and took my information, even intimating that we could possibly do some shows together next year. I was thrilled.

He introduced me to the woman he was with, Zou Rui, an opera and pop singer, internationally touring performer and model here in China. She lives in Beijing and makes her living in the arts. We all sat down and had a great conversation and Zou Rui and I became instant friends. She will most definitely be a subject of my “Beijing Women in Music” research, but more importantly I am happy to have met such a cool person to hang out with. She’s also excited to have met a language partner and so we’ve been spending some time together this week swapping Chinese for English and vice versa.

When I walked towards the restrooms, I saw Andy again standing by the bar with his Shanghai contingent. They were so warm to me and grateful that I had come to the show to support the bands. He said he’d definitely be in touch about the possibilities for my band next year.

As I was leaving the bar, I said goodbye to Luo Yan who gave me his number in case I wanted a bass player while I’m here. Then, I said goodbye to Kim and Elana of VSH who gave me warm hugs and thanked me for my translation and my support. I assured them that it was truly my pleasure to see them, hear them play and just to spend some time with them — my fellow Canadians — in this beautiful country.

I waved to everyone from the taxi window filled with even more smiles than before.

This is the kind of connection-making I want to experience.

Goodbye schmoozing. Ni hao Guanxi.

[Group shot above is from when I was in Suzhou last week. From left to right: Suzie Vinnick, me, Kim Sheppard, Elana Harte (all making up VSH), Randall (their drummer on this trip), Norm (travelling with them and filling in tour manager roles) and Andy, the Shanghai-based promoter.]

How To Carry A Chicken (Around the World)

by Willy Volk on

Earlier today, I saw a post on Kevin Kelly’s blog about how to move live chickens in China that featured some remarkable images. According to Kelly, “You get some large sacks, poke some holes in the top, weave the birds into each so each head it sticking out, and then you can throw the entire sack on a bicycle or truck. The birds were quiet and seemed to like the swaddling.”

Naturally, it reminded me of the chickens my neighbors in Zambia used to tote. While most people carry chickens in a relatively “humane” way — by holding them under their bellies, between the legs — not everyone in the world is so thoughtful. Here are some ways you might expect to see chickens toted in other parts of the world.

In PNG, you might see chickens carried on a stick. Looks like he’s going fishing!

In Ethiopia, the chickens might be strapped to a donkey.

In Burkina Faso, don’t be surprised to see them hanging from the back of a motorbike.

They do it the same way in parts of Vietnam.

In other parts of Vietnam, though, they may protect the chickens in baskets.

In Mali, they might use a bike.

Same goes for China — though they might have some sophisticated-looking cages.

Or just some woven baskets.

They use baskets in Nepal, too — but no bikes.

In parts of Africa, they use baskets AND cars.

Whereas in parts of Ecuador, some people prefer the low-tech feel of wooden poles.

In Bali, you might see chickens carried in beautifully-woven baskets.

The Burmese might use baskets.

Some Guatemalans use baskets, too.

In India, they transport them in baskets and then keep them together in netted playpens.

This shot was taken in Vietnam’s Bac Ha market — but it looks like it could’ve been taken in rural Africa.

But this is usually how I saw them transported:

In Malaysia, you might find them wrapped in paper and tied up with a pretty bow.

Finally, I’m not exactly certain where this photo was taken — somewhere in SE Asia, I think — but I do know that you shouldn’t park or stand next to it.

And we’ll close this photo essay with the most ridiculous video EVER: learn how to put a chicken to sleep in under 60 seconds.

A Canadian in Beijing: Hands in the Air at Beijing’s Midi Festival

by Ember Swift on

One of my goals before arriving in China was to take in the live music scene here. That hasn’t been difficult in the least. In fact, it’s been difficult to balance getting up early for my part-time classes after taking in so much live music.

One of the prominent live music events of the year in Beijing is the MIDI FESTIVAL. Well, it’s prominent in the underground music world, that’s for sure. This festival takes places between May 1st and 5th in an urban park in the eastern Haidian district of Beijing. That’s quite close to where I live and I have been planning to attend this festival since arriving.

So I did.

Truth be told, I applied to perform at the festival when I was back in Canada. There was an advertisement via Sonicbids, an online submission service that I subscribe to and that enables the submission of one’s music for consideration for all kinds of events or services. I was not “awarded” a slot at the festival (although, it was a contest for a single opening and I’m sure there was stiff competition) and at the time I was relieved by this verdict, considering I would not have my band with me. While in attendance this week, however, I wished that I had known how to go through other channels to request a solo spot. I was truly missing the stage as I sat on the grass in front of it. And, I knew that my music would go over well there.

Perhaps next year?

The Midi festival is modeled after North American festivals. There are several stages with simultaneous music, food kiosks with greasy food, diverse markets (though both booths and sidewalk style, which is very Beijing), disgusting port-a-potties and cheap beer for sale in plastic cups. There’s lots of litter and sporadic tents set up on the edges of the site and, let’s not forget the requisite muddy sections in front of the main stage as evidence of hundreds of feet packed tightly against the stage, moshing across five days.

I was there on the final day, having just arrived home from Shanghai and deciding to take in at least one day of such an important musical event. Everyone who is anyone was there. It was a cool kids’ hangout and I simply had to go!

Unlike most visible grass in China, you can SIT on it at this festival and I spent a fair amount of time doing just that at the folk stage, feeling nostalgic about festival season in North America. Lawns in Beijing are not common and, besides, grass is considered dirty thanks to the regular deposit of urine, litter and dust. As a result, there are often “keep off the grass” signs or fenced off sections of what little grass I have seen. Seeing people sprawled across the expanse of green here at this public park was a very non-Beijing sight and it added to the nostalgia for home.

I went to the festival with Traci (see pic of us here, in our “cool” poses!) and she introduced me to several interesting people connected to the music scene in Beijing. I’m slowly making my rounds and finding that people are quite receptive to my interest in building my career here. Traci was also handing out flyers for an event this weekend called the “Maple Rhythm Beijing Concert,” which was a concert scheduled for after the Midi festival and featuring Canadian music. I was happy to see my friends’ faces on the flyers that were landing in the hands of the Beijing hipsters: Vinnick, Sheppard and Harte; The Jimmy Swift Band (no, there is no “Jimmy Swift” and we’re not related!); Alun Piggins; and The Road Hammers. (I have met the promoter for this event, too, and he is considering us for a tour next year – fingers crossed!)

I met up with other friends then and enjoyed a flip-flop between various stages. I took in some excellent Chinese and international bands from folk to hip-hop to rock, most notably “ZouYou” (or “Left, Right”) which was a Chinese progressive hard rock band with amazing musicianship and stage presence. Dave Stewart (from the Euthymics) was the Friday night headliner but he was unable to attend. In his place, he sent Imogen Heap and Nadirah X who each did a couple of songs and blew the audience away. I love Imogen voice and Nadirah X’s lyrics were incredibly powerful and politically potent. Another female artist, a famous Chinese pop-rock singer, also sang but I do not know her name. She garnered a huge applause from the audience when she took the stage, as though her presence were a big and welcome surprise. If anyone reads this and can tell me her name, I would really appreciate it. It was too loud to ask anyone and then it was too late.

Midi was co-sponsored by Greenpeace and I was surprised to see this, considering their radical environment actions and (I’m going to generalize here) the Chinese government’s typical aversion to radicalism! Between sets, the big screens showed hardcore live footage from recorded attempts to stop the transport of nuclear devices on ships, animal rescues, demonstration against polluting corporations, etc. It was incredibly moving to watch and the ten minute short was on regular repeat.

All of these performers (the three women mentioned above) finished off their set by collaborating on a song that was written for Greenpeace. It was empowering and got the audience excited despite the language barrier. The previous big screen visuals had helped to bring the points home without words being necessary.

I left the site late in the evening feeling filled up with music and reminded of how powerful live performance can be. Hands in the air in musical solidarity seemed to me to be another universal sign of camaraderie, belief, and commitment to being part of a movement. Whether or not our aims are the same, music has a cauterizing effect and brings people of all backgrounds and ideologies together, rocking in a crowded cradle of potential.

We can.