A Canadian in Beijing: Food is Free at KTV

by Ember Swift on

I know that I already posted about the inevitability of karaoke here in China. What I haven’t told you about yet is the amazing KTV phenomenon. Here in Beijing, there are several locations of KTV, or “Partyworld” as it’s also called, where people come to sing karaoke as a social activity. I’m not talking about a bar here that has one karaoke machine.

This is a karaoke factory.

It seems like this is one of the most popular activities here. After going out to a bar and drinking several drinks, people often come to KTV and sing all night long. In fact, after midnight, it is significantly cheaper and a person can book a six-hour block from midnight until six a.m. And, many people do.

Not to mention the fact that food is free after midnight.

(Musician Rule #1: Go for the free food!)

These establishments are like giant hotels. At least, that’s what they resemble aesthetically, but the rooms you are renting aren’t for sleeping; they’re for singing. Group after group file into KTV and then disappear into private sound-proofed rooms to hold a microphone in a death grip and belt it out until the wee hours.

You arrive into a marble lobby with plush chairs and staff in uniforms. They usher you upstairs to one of the floors with available rooms (and sometimes they’re all booked up!) and then you are given a private room that consists of several couches, tables, a television (on which the karaoke videos and lyrics are displayed), a closet for your things and sometimes even an adjoining bathroom. Oh, and there are also percussion instruments available just in case you want to bang along. Brightly coloured, they reminded me of kid’s toys and so I bounded over to them and made a racket for a few minutes in the spirit of my inner child.

Each room has a number on the door and a circular window so that the staff can peer in to make sure all is going well and you aren’t in need of any additional beverages. It almost makes me think of a ship, these circular windows, and it made me chuckle quietly to myself whenever a server’s head would pop up in the circular window with curious eyes.

But, last but not least, the number one thing about KTV is the free food after midnight. There is a huge cafeteria-style kitchen area and between midnight and one a.m. (I’m pretty sure it’s an hour long buffet, though it could be two hours?), the food is completely free and there for the taking. So, after the night of partying, this is the place where people come to eat and then continue partying! Alcohol is not free, but non-alcholic drinks are. Both can be delivered right to your room by placing an order with a server.

When I was there, the diversity of the other KTV attendees was astounding. There were groups of young teenagers and groups of businessmen in suits and ties. Everyone looked happy and full of melody. People were singing in the hallways and humming songs as they chose food around the cafeteria. Here, singing is normal and not something just done in the shower or in the shy privacy of one’s home. And singing well is not a prerequisite. On the contrary. I think the appropriate way to sing here is just with enthusiasm… and spirit. Yes, that’s exactly it.

When I walked back to our room with my loaded food tray, I was amused by all the different sounding songs I heard coming from the various rooms. These songs were in what sounded like the insulated distance because of the soundproofing, but outside of each room they could still be heard faintly.

As I was walking slowly along the corridor, one of the doors swung open and another customer exited their room. As the door widened, it was like a vacuum of sound had been released into my ears. I saw inside for that instant and caught sight of a middle-aged man clinging to his microphone with both hands and giving it all he had. He was bent at the knees and his head was thrown back, eyes closed and focused, shirt and tie dishevelled and loosened. He was singing in Chinese and he was pouring his heart into the words. When the door swung shut once more, the image was gone and the sound was muffled again. It was just a flash but this visual will stay with me and will forever be associated with the three letters: KTV.

It was his big moment. . .

I smiled and continued down to the hall to our room and my group of friends. When I came in, two of them were in the midst of a cheesy eighties duet and singing into each other’s eyes. The rest were sprawled on the couches or sitting on stools and watching either the singers or the videos with mild interest.

I say “mild” because these videos are terrible. They’re not the original videos, of course, and sometimes the cinematography is atrocious. Especially for the English songs, they are really outdated images showing non-Asian people dressed in eighties or early nineties fashions parading across the screen. The transcription of the lyrics, too, is often wrong. Sometimes it’s so wrong that it’s hilarious, rendering us unable to sing anymore because we are laughing so hard.

What a crazy experience.

Here is a place where people can pretend they’re performing for thousands of people in the way they deliver the lyrics and pose with the microphone, but it’s just your group of friends or family looking on as though this is normal. And, after a few moments, it is normal. Anything is normal if you let it normalize, right?! In the end, there is really no performance going on at all. It’s just about singing. It’s therapeutic. It’s cathartic.

It’s the release.

The eating, drinking and socializing is a sidebar. In fact, some of my friends like to sing for six hours straight and never get tired.

That’s not me.

After my food, I was ready for bed. I took my leave after singing a few cheesy tunes like “The Greatest Love of All” and “Somewhere Out There” with my friend (it’s a duet, of course!) The English language selection is wide but super cheesy. Despite being a lover of some cheesy eighties songs (ach-hem… like Air Supply’s entire catalogue, as mentioned), I can only listen for so long before I’m ready to move on.

I left humming a tune, of course. I’m not sure which song exactly, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that my vocal chords were being used and celebrated.

I always say that everyone can sing. It’s true. Everyone can.

KTV makes it possible.

And popular.

A Canadian in Beijing: Vegan Mandarin Language Survival Guide

by Ember Swift on

When I first arrived in China, I wrote a post entitled: “Vegan in China, Part 1.” It was pretty negative all around. Why? Because I was hungry! About half-way through my trip, I followed that post up with a piece about the presence of an active vegetarian and vegan society here in Beijing. I would consider that my “Vegan in China, Part 2” post, although it wasn’t titled as such. This, then, should be considered my “Part 3” post, as it’s now at a point where I’m posting to help the next traveller get through these food dilemmas rather than posting in the hopes that someone will help me!!

I’m on third base and I’m heading home.

(to my own kitchen! I can’t wait to do some full-scale cooking again!)

Because I have experienced the trials of getting my language skills to the point where I can successfully feed myself, this post includes the explanation of some necessary short phrases in Mandarin for a person who fits this description:

  • non-Chinese speaking
  • vegetarian or vegan
  • who is in a restaurant
  • that isn’t necessarily vegetarian
  • and staring at a menu
  • that isn’t written in English
  • and is nearly faint with hunger

Good luck!

The following sentences I have found to be very useful. I have written them out in both “pinyin” (their sounds) along with the tones (the numbers in brackets) for those who have some knowledge of Chinese pronunciation. They are followed by the actual characters and then the translation, all of which is set off in the boxes below.

Under each box, I have explained how to actually say these sentences. This isn’t official and I’m not a linguist (let’s state the obvious right off the top!) but these are common English words or close approximations which can help an English speaker find these sounds without much difficulty. At least, here’s hoping!

So, let’s start off with the basic greeting and ice breaker. This is good to say when the waiter or waitress approaches your table and looks at you expectantly. It’s both a greeting and a comment, and it’s very casual and so it will probably make them laugh or smile if they’re not completely overworked and miserable to begin with!

Pronunciation Approximation: Knee-how, woe doe kuai euh seuh le

Here “kuai” is like the sound of “kw” put with the word “eye,” also known as one of the casual words for the currency here in China. Also, “euh” is like the vowel sound of the word “wood” in English. Just take off the “w” and the “d” and that’s your sound. If that doesn’t work for you and you speak any French, then this sound is also the sound of the French letter “e.” Another tip is the tail end of the German word “adieu” but with the German pronunciation! Finally, these three words “euh seuh le” all rhyme. I left “le” as it stands in its pinyin form because almost everyone pronounces that one correctly on first sight!

Other options include: “Wo hen e” 我很饿！ or “wo feichang e” 我非常饿！ = “I’m very hungry” and “I’m extremely hungry,” respectively. Pronunciation Approximation: “woe hun euh” or “woe fay-chong euh.”

Next, we’ll move to the crux of the issue. You’ve just expressed that you’re really hungry but this isn’t going to be easy. This is a great place to also put the opening “I am a vegetarian” statement (see image that starts this blog.) It can either follow #2 or precede #2. The word “but” is “danshi” and can easily be removed at anytime. It’s just a filler here.


Pronunciation Approximation: Dan sheuh, woe e dee-are roe yeh boo cheuh

Here the “e” is just as it looks. It sounds just like the letter “e” in English as though you’re naming the letter in the alphabet.

Next, you need to acknowledge the fact that you’ve no idea what’s happening on the menu that has been set before you and you need the server’s help. I can teach you how to say “I don’t understand this” or “I can’t read Chinese,” but that’s just boring. Why not enlist their assistance in the process? You can wave your hand at the menu and/or close it altogether. Most people assume that foreigners can’t read Chinese anyway, and so I think it’s unnecessary to state the obvious if this is the case.

The following is a casual and friendly way to request their help ordering. Since they already know that you’re not a meat eater, they will now (ideally) only suggest vegetarian options! Feel free to repeat the statement above (#2) to reinforce your point.

Pronunciation Approximation: Knee gay woe tway gee-anne gee geuh bah

Don’t forget that “gee” is not a hard “g” but a soft “g.” This is the fifties word of “darn,” for more context! Also, If you’re still having trouble with that “euh” sound then here is another tip: this “geuh” is the beginning of “good” without the “d” at the end of it.

Now, here’s yet another point of clarity. Sometimes the server will respond to your request for their suggestions (above) with yet more questions about what you’re interested in, i.e. what flavours you’d like, whether you can eat hot foods, etc. If you don’t speak Chinese, this will all be fired at you with questioning eyes and it will only be responded to in return by your questioning eyes of complete confusion. Generally, if you don’t know what has been said to you, keep the doors open! This comment, below, encourages them to be more assertive in their suggestions to you and gets you closer to food.


Pronunciation Approximation: Jeuh yao may yo roe doe keuh yee

Here, “yao” rhymes with “mao,” as in the Chairman!

Now, much vegetarian food here in China contains eggs. In fact, it’s been really hard to find soups without egg in them, for example. Dumplings are often made with eggs, as well, even if they’re not described as such on the menu. So, if you’re vegan and you don’t want your vegetable soup to arrive with egg floating in it, then this next sentence is really vital.


Pronunciation Approximation: Woe yeh boo cheuh gee dan

Next, here is another phrase that is useful for the vegans out there! Now, it’s not exactly a lie. Technically, if you’ve been a vegan for a while then your body will stop producing lactase, the enzyme necessary to breakdown lactose which is found in milk products. Thus, eating lactose will result in a great big stomach ache and some might identify this response as a typical allergic reaction! (What’s more, lots of people are lactose intolerant these days and so it’s not so rare for restaurants to hear, even in China.)

I do find this explanation works a hell of a lot better than expressing that you choose to simply not consume dairy products. In the bubble tea line-up, you’ll be sure to get a few odd stares when you just say that you don’t drink milk. An allergy makes everyone more vigilant about protecting you and their livelihood. In fact, sometimes I even use the allergy angle in English-speaking countries…

Pronunciation Approximation: Woe dway knee-oh nigh jeuh pin goa min

By “nigh” I mean the word that rhymes with “eye!” I know it’s not a very common word, but it’s still in the dictionary! Also, “goa” is just like “boa,” as in the snake!

Finally, this is your last resort. When there’s no way to get any food because you have not been understood in the least and everyone looks lost and frustrated, saying the following phrase while also cupping your hands in a small bowl and simultaneously pointing to something white (or pointing at the bowls on someone else’s table!) will surely get you some white rice. Afterall, this is a staple food here!


Pronunciation Approximation: Gay woe e wawn bye fun

Here “wawn” rhymes with “yawn” and don’t forget that the “e” is just like the sound of the English letter “e” when you’re naming it off in the alphabet.

***************************************

Alright, here lies the end of this quick-vegetarian-or-vegan-language-survival-in-a-restaurant lesson!

And, as I said in my last post, if all else fails then there are always “su baozi” (pronounced: sue bao zeuh). See this post for more information on this tasty restaurant replacement food!

But mostly, the possibilities are here and China has shown me that there is even more for me to eat in a restaurant (besides salad!) than in a typical North American restaurant. I have completely changed my tune from the Part 1 post; there’s so much out there for me to eat! My body is happy.

My official stance on the issue is this:

The visiting vegan or vegetarian should have no trouble in Beijing.

Oh, I guess you could also just print this off! Then, you can just show the server these phrases and the only reason for opening your mouth can be to put food inside it!

Haha.

Enjoy!

A Canadian in Beijing: The Great Baozi, A Tribute

by Ember Swift on

I have put on weight in the past month, partly due to almost zero working out (too hot, too polluted, too much else to distract me) and partly due to my discovery of the amazing food known as “baozi” ????.

Yum.

Now, I’m generally not a big person and I was honestly worried about dying for hunger the first three weeks that I was here. I lost a bit too much weight, I’d say, and I really didn’t have much to lose. My body has recovered, however, and then some… which is not a bad thing in the least. I got curves now! I’m not complaining.

So this is a small tribute to the glorious “su baozi” ????? (vegetarian baozi) and how they have joined forces with my language study to help me, bit by bit, find food to eat in this city that isn’t imported from overseas or grossly overpriced in western restaurants. (See my next post for a Vegetarian Language Surivival Guide!)

What makes baozi great? Let me tell you. . .

Baozi are steamed breads with various fillings. Usually, they are filled with meats of various kinds, but “su baozi” are vegetable-filled and they are delicious. Think of a dumpling but imagine that the outside is soft bread instead of the dumpling skin which is usually boiled or fried. This steamed bread is delicious and even more delicious when the inside is all vegetarian. (Or, so I’m assuming since I have not tried the meat ones!)

In fact, I discovered these treats here at the school outdoor canteen. Many “su baozi” are filled with chopped green vegetables that are also combined with “ji dan” (eggs.) Here at the canteen they make their “su baozi” that way and so, being the vegan that I am, I developed a system of methodically picking out the bits of egg every morning before eating them. It was easy and the resulting egg-free (reasonably small) baozi were delicious. I would eat four to six of them every morning (two for 1 kuai) and sometimes pick up more for lunch. Okay, I’ll admit it: sometimes I lived on baozi all day. (I have truly been a bachelor in the food department.)

Then I discovered the baozi at the market.

The same market that I wrote about last week has the most amazing baozi vendor and the women who work there have come to recognize me. They have all different kinds of vegetarian baozi including egg-free options (mushroom and greens) and “mala dofu” (spicy tofu) options. They are incredible, not to mention the fact that they’re fresh from the steamers when you buy them (i.e. still steaming) and are twice the size of the ones at the canteen. What’s more (and there is more!), they are the same price as the ones at the school and you get twice as much for your money.

This is my kind of food.

So, of course I go there and buy them by the steaming bag full. That doesn’t sound delicious… unless you know about baozi. <wink> I even asked these women to pose for a photo with me the last time I went there, fearing it would be my last trip to this oasis. They obliged my request with a smile.

Aw, even writing this post is making me crave more, more, more! (Is that my new-found wheat addiction?)

When I came to China, I was also wheat-free. In fact, I’ve been mostly wheat-free for the past couple of years. I’m not allergic, but one of my band members is (Lyndell) and I’ve also read terrible things about how wheat is produced these days and what it does to one’s body. So, my first period of time here in China was also wheat-free.

That, however, went right about the window when I discovered baozi. Perhaps I’m now not only addicted to the taste of the baozi in general, but I’m also addicted to the gluten in the wheat? It’s possible!

Now, I know this doesn’t constitute a complete diet and so I have to admit that I have done a bit more exploring in the world of food here. Most of this exploring has come through friends’ suggestions or through my own risk-taking in restaurants. So far, just a few stomach aches later, I’m feeling great and confident about the food here.

What I’m getting at is that this post is only meant to offer a singular suggestion in a world where there are many options. My next post will offer some assistance when seeking those options. Mainly, it’s a language issue and so I’m hoping that some key phrases will keep fellow vegans from starvation in Beijing!

But, if all else fails, then there are always “su baozi” (pronounced: sue bao zeuh).

They help put meat on your bones. . .

Without eating meat!

A Canadian in Beijing: Smooth Summer Night

by Ember Swift on

As I walked back from the subway tonight in the clinging heat, I felt like I was floating. No, perhaps “coasting” is a better word. My legs were like rudders guiding my upper body smoothly and wordlessly through a thick, heavy sea of humidity. I watched the late evening Beijing sights like I was leaning over the railing on a slow moving cruise ship and being carried along.

It was dreamlike.

I’m tired tonight. I had a long day visiting friends which came on the heels of a long night of partying the night before with the university crowd. It was a celebration because our exams are over and the courses have come to a close. They’re all out again tonight, but this student (i.e. the one who is about an average of ten years older than everyone else here!) cannot keep this pace. I chose to head back to an air-conditioned dorm room to cool off and be languid.

And tonight is truly a night for the word “languid.”

Besides, I was in jeans and sneakers all day in the intense heat and I feel like a human stew. It’s not pretty and it doesn’t smell inviting. I really outta be alone tonight!

As I was walking home, though, conscious of this being my last week here, I was taking it all in like scenes from a movie. Sometimes I see my life here a bit like that, as though I’m writing my life over again and I’m the protagonist in the script who can choose what happens next – a “Choose-Your-Own-Adventure” film, perhaps. And, “shuo shi hua” (to tell you the truth), it’s almost like that for me here. I ride the tide of contacts and activity often not knowing what will come next; it’s a beautiful reality. I feel so far removed from my home in a Canada – a world of pre-scheduled tours and travels, some of which are pre-booked a whole year in advance. This spontaneity, or option for spontaneity, has been so incredibly liberating.

I’m going to miss it.

Tonight’s dreamy feeling started when I walked into the mouth of the subway at Chaoyang, downtown. I was washed with the sounds of cheesy pop music coming from the CD vendor’s small stereo at the bottom of the stairs. Often the subway entrances have vendors selling a variety of things and pirated CDs and DVDs are among the popular items. I have seen this vendor before, a young guy who is often strumming a guitar along with the songs, and his music is always playing. Or, shall I say it is always crackling out the speakers that are too small to handle his penchant for loud volume. This time, the song was a soundtrack-style song with fully orchestrated keyboard strings and wind chimes and soaring vocals. As I walked down the passageway under the street, the sounds of this twinkling music fading behind me felt like the score to a movie that was just beginning. It set my thoughtful tone for the whole forty-five minute trip back to Wudaokou.

I got out at the Wudaokou stop along with the many other young people pouring onto the platform. I took up my place in the spilling students going down the steps of line 13, an aboveground train, and eventually found myself on the sidewalk and being carried eastward towards my campus in the same crowd.

I first crossed the train tracks that are right beside the subway exit and I took in the track keeper’s residence. I’m not sure what his official title is, but each side of these tracks consists of a small residence space and the people who live and work on each side are responsible for the railway crossing, i.e. the announcements, the lowering and rising of the traffic arms, the security, etc.

(Well, I was told that they don’t actually live there, but it sure looks like a home to me…)

This south side looks more elaborately lived-in than the north side with laundry hanging outside the small square living quarters, a veggie garden planted on one side of the tracks in the empty plot of land (I love that there’s a garden right here in this busy urban railroad crossing!), and potted flowers in the mini courtyard. This worker has truly tried to make it a home in such a public place.

Then, just moments later, I am gliding past the outdoor restaurant and markets where vendors sell food on skewers (chuars) and steamed corn and beer. In fact, you can get just about anything here, including vegetarian fare, as long as you’re not picky about where it’s cooked. There are piles of seafood and meat and then lots of vegetables to choose from.

It is crowded on a non-rainy weekend night with tables and chatter everywhere. During the day, this open lot is deserted, but at night everything comes alive. The smells of cooking and smoke and clatter of glass bottles all hit me at once. The angle of the smells and sounds reminded me of a sudden laugh track in an old sitcom at a moment in the script that isn’t that funny. I’m not part of the merriment, but it is alive in another dimension, piped into my state of mind anachronistically.

My cruise continues, bound for its only destination: home.

(Or at least, the closest thing I have to home here, which is my dorm room.)

Crossing the street and rounding left down the pathway to the west-gate of my campus, the energy on the street has calmed. The heat is keeping the edges duller here. I slip in through the west gate past the childlike guard who is dutifully holding his rigid position and I swerve around the basketball courts to my dorm building. When the door finally closes behind me, my pants and sneakers find the floor and I sit around in my underwear enjoying the air conditioning and letting the day frame itself around my thoughts.

It is only nine o’clock at night and the credits are going to start rolling any moment. This short film of my evening is coming to a close, free of dialogue but full of sights, sounds, smells and feeling.

All we need now is a repeat of that cheesy pop music and it would be a full-circle Beijing night. Oh well, I’ll just have to replay it in my mind, fuzzy speakers and all.

Cue the wind chimes.

Photo of the Day (6/24/2007)

by Erik Olsen on

The caption speaks for itself here. In this photo from China a nice display of old vs new gives a pretty cool perspective from Shanghai. Shot by StrudelMonkey, the photo looks across the Huang Pu River toward Pudong and provides, as the photographer says, a nice demonstration of the changes happening now in the Far East.