Fiesta: Tokyo’s Hidden Karaoke Gem

I’m not going to lie – I am a karaoke aficionado. Back in Austin, TX I hosted karaoke every week (mainly so that I could cut the line whenever I wanted) and I invented something called Tazeroke.

I knew that they loved karaoke in Japan, so I was pumped to sing when I arrived here. However, after a trying conversation with the girl behind the desk of a karaoke establishment, I had a shocking realization.

All of the karaoke here is in private rooms.

There are no karaoke bars with stages and random patrons to bask in your superstar glory. And for us Westerners, that’s what karaoke is all about – being a rock star for three and a half minutes.

Some research revealed one exception to this national rule. In Roppongi, on the third floor of a building tucked away on a little side street there is a place called “Fiesta.” You’d never find it if you didn’t know it was there.

Last night my friend Todd and I had the honor of being guests of Shintaro Mimura, the director of Fiesta. And let me tell you – this is karaoke at its finest.

Most karaoke bars in the US are regular bars with karaoke as an afterthought. Not Fiesta. Mr. Mimura is a die-hard karaoke lover and it shows.

The room has a three big seating areas, all with good views of the small stage in the corner. The stage has a full lighting rig, three microphones, and monitor speakers. The system itself is connected to the internet and automatically downloads new songs as they come out. The sound system is fantastic.

The best part of Fiesta may be the crowd. It’s largely regulars and they stand up and sing along with every song they know. Most of the singers are good enough that they’re actually fun to listen to – especially Mr. Mimura. If you go, make sure you ask him to sing some Beastie Boys. I’ve heard a lot of people try to sing the Beastie Boys, and he blew them all away.

To find your way to Fiesta, check out their website at www.fiesta-roppongi.com. I’ll be back there on Saturday, March 29, so if you’re in Tokyo come down and sing with me.

Infiltrating North Korea Part 17: Video Tour of Pyongyang Highlights

I was a bit concerned bringing my camcorder into North Korea because I had read that zoom lenses 10X and higher were prohibited in the country. No one checked my camera on the way in, however, and I was therefore able to use my zoom throughout North Korea.

I had specifically purchased the camcorder to film the Mass Games, but ended up spending much of the trip filming simple panorama shots of downtown Pyongyang and some of the tourist sites we visited. This would have been horribly boring in most any other city, but Pyongyang is so very unique and such a rare sight, that my urban footage was some of my most interesting–at least, in my opinion.

And so today, we wind down the series (just two more posts!) with a short video collage of some of the more memorable landmarks we encountered during our stay in the North Korean capital.
The video starts with some karaoke we enjoyed one night after dinner. We then move on to a 360 degree shot of downtown Pyongyang that highlights the Arc of Triumph, the Ryugyong Hotel, the Kim Il Sung Stadium and a massive mosaic picturing Kim Il Sung addressing the masses.

We get a much closer view of the Ryugyong Hotel in the next clip which also features the Pyongyang Indoor Stadium, the city’s cylindrical ice rink, and a very long line for the bus.

And then it’s below ground to check out the extravagant, art-filled metro and wonder if the commuters are actual commuters, or simply actors pretending that the subway works.

We wrap up the video with the grandiose entranceway to the People’s Study Hall in Pyongyang that’s dominated by a massive statue of Kim Il Sung–and yes, our guides bowed deeply to the marble edifice upon entering the room. The shot immediately following is of the main lobby just up a nearby escalator where Kim Jong Il makes a smiling, Cheshire-cat appearance in an oil painting hanging on the wall. And then, finally, we fade out with the classic photos found at the front of every classroom in the Study Hall.

And that’s it. Although my cinematography skills leave a lot to be desired (it’s a new camera, folks!) I do hope that this short video has painted a much clearer picture of the world’s most mysterious and reclusive capital.

Yesterday: A Sunday Drive through Pyongyang
Tomorrow: A Tale of Two Cities

A Canadian in Beijing: Food is Free at KTV

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: Big Toothy Grin at the Dental Hospital

There’s so much to write about and so little time left. I’m here for only one more week and then I can hardly believe that I’m leaving. Canada again? It’s going to be so strange not to be here, a place where I feel so at home. I have a rhythm here that feels musical in my step. I will so miss this place. And yet, my Canadian senses are also drawing me home the way fresh baked bread on the breeze will draw someone into a warm kitchen on a summer’s day. If only I could duplicate myself to be in both places at once!

In the midst of this delicious rhythm, I’ve really stopped being a tourist in so many ways. I have found friends and a vibrant community and my adventures are centred around their lives and their worlds. Not to say they haven’t been given insight into mine, but they have invited me in to theirs and shown me so many different aspects of Beijing. In many cases, I have seen parts of this city that I would never have seen had I just been looking through a guide book for possible adventures.

Take yesterday, for example, when I toured Beijing’s preeminent dental hospital: “Peking University Stomatological Hospital.”

One of my friends is a dentist studying to be a dental surgeon. He invited me to his hospital and I must say that it was an experience that left an impression. Not only did I constantly want to brush my teeth while I was there, but I felt shy about smiling for fear that everyone was looking at my teeth!

Now, on a practical level, what struck me most was the fact that the hospital looked like a hospital from the 1970’s. Much of the equipment was up-to-date and modern, but the décor and the layout reminded me of the hospitals of my youth. Not to mention the fact that the walls were often in disrepair with peeling paint or cracked plaster and the pipes were exposed and rusting.

Not unlike the buildings at the school or my dorm, though. Perhaps I should just chalk it up to different interior design standards here in China versus Canada? And, after all, it’s not really about look and much more about function, right? In North America, we are taught that if a place looks shabby then the quality of the service must also be shabby. I think that assumption is far from true here. Standards could very well be high (if not higher than home), even if the walls need painting.

My friend took me up floor after floor of identical floor plan: the central area was a waiting room with hard-backed chairs all attached to one another like students chairs in a university lecture hall. Each floor had a reception desk and then dental rooms branching off on all sides. Each dental room held several dental chairs that weren’t separated from one another with walls or dividers. I’m not sure what dental hospitals look like in North America, but I wondered if perhaps privacy is not as important here or if this is standard for a dental hospital versus a private clinic. (Anyone know?)

In the stairwell, when we rounded the stairs to the fifth floor, he pointed to the entrance and said that we couldn’t go in there. He continued to climb the stairs to the sixth floor and I paused at the fifth and asked “why?” He stopped and turned around and in a very matter-of-fact tone explained that this was the floor where the government officials are treated. “So?” I asked, naively, and he said that no one was allowed to go onto this floor except a select group of doctors and surgeons. He further explained that there is actually a full hospital that is just for government officials elsewhere in the city. It, too, is off limits to the regular Beijing denizen or visitor.

Well then.

These are the moments when I recall that I’m in a Communist country.

Another interesting point is that the orthodontic floor was the most modern and clean. Of course, my friend explained, this is because it’s the most expensive of all the services. (So, money will buy paint and take rust off pipes, I suppose!?) I also liked the kid’s floor. The little chairs were cute and they tried to decorate it with a bit more colour for the little ones. And, most amusing to me of all was the educational rooms with the fake heads with removable jaws for learning how to work on teeth. Of course these are needed, but I’ve never seen such a thing before and the image of all these slack-jawed dummies made me laugh.

After the tour, we came back to the main floor and into the central lobby. Here were glassed-in kiosks that looked much like ticket wickets at a train station. The patients line up in front of these windows to be registered at the hospital, though it is not an emergency reception room. My friend also pointed out the pharmacy window, which was also a kiosk. The patient takes their prescription slip to this window and presents it to the attendant and the attendant fetches your prescription. Almost like a drive-thru window, I thought, and it was strange to hear my friend define it as a pharmacy. In Canada, pharmacies look a lot different!

Suddenly there was a grand commotion. They were blocking off a section of the outer sidewalk and people were being directed to move their bicycles immediately as the doors were to be locked to one of the exits and any bicycles would be trapped outside. At least, this is what I gathered. There was also something about not being able to access a neighbouring building through those entrances/exits, which seem to inspire a lot of running back and forth before the locks were engaged.

Apparently they are working on the building next door and there was a risk of falling debris. They were blocking it off so that no one would get hurt, but to block off the area they only used flimsy tarps that flapped in the wind, one at either end of the section of sidewalk – easy to walk under and/or around. In North America, I could already imagine people completely disregarding these tarps and taking the risk. Here in China, rules are rules.

The urgency of this closure was palpable. In fact, it seemed as through there was some sort of panic to gather items from one building to the next as though there would be no way to get between the buildings afterwards, which I soon discovered was untrue. The blocked walkway just forced a person to go around. Still, it seemed like the end of the world was coming for those few moments and I just watched with amusement and curiosity.

In my curiosity, I walked outside and photographed the area, much to the horror of one of the hospital workers who warned me that I could still get hurt even while on the “safe” sides of the barricade. (By the way, I didn’t see a single particle of dust fall from the adjacent building while I was out there!) I am grateful I went outside, though, because I discovered this building behind the hospital (I have no idea if it’s part of the hospital or not) that is covered in vines. It looked like a living and breathing creature and I had to photograph it.

When I went back inside, the drama had subsided and I accompanied my friend to a large auditorium where I watched groups of students gather on the stage and perform various songs and poems or sketches for each other. There were perhaps five hundred students and each group was of approximately ten students. They filed on and off the stage with embarrassed giggles and cajoling from their friends in the audience. The most popular performance was karaoke in style with backing music being provided by a laptop hooked up to an overhead projector and piped through auditorium speakers. In fact, many of the songs sung were English songs and any poems that were recited were also in English. That did not make them very clear, however, and it was funny for me to say that I “ting bu dong” (don’t understand) something when it’s supposed to be in my own language!

Two hours later, the performances were winding up and I had had enough of “people watching.” It really felt like a high school variety night (which was the only thing I could relate it to), only this group of students weren’t my fellow students and this wasn’t my school! I felt good to have supported my friend, but I was ready to go. Such an event was definitely culturally specific to China. I can’t imagine a bunch of university and masters students in Canada engaging in this kind of activity, but I have to add, to their credit, that it was great to see these students having so much fun.

I left via the back entrance (due to the blocked doorways) and I thanked my friend for such a unique experience. How often does a person get to tour a dental hospital in Beijing and then watch fifty amateur performances in two hours? I’d say it would go in the once-in-a-lifetime category!

I went home and brushed my teeth right away.

Man Shot Dead for Bad Singing

Okay, in the United States we get shot for honking at someone to let them know the light as turned green. But in Asia, where karaoke is big business, you can get shot for singing out of tune.

Midway through his song, a homeless man in a karaoke bar in San Mateo town, Rizal, Philippines, was warned by a bouncer that his singing was out of tune. “As [he] ignored his comments and continued singing,” the AP reports, “[the bouncer] pulled out his revolver and shot him in the chest.”

The AP story goes on to mention that violence in karaoke bars is not uncommon, and in the capital of the Philippines, Manila, the song “My Way” by Frank Sinatra has been taken off of most karaoke playlists due to it’s violence-inciting abilities. The song was “found to be the cause of fights and even deaths when patrons sang out of tune.” Seriously.