After over a week in Beijing, I finally felt it was time to bid farewell to this town of polluted airs and racy pulse. Of course I wouldn’t simply jet off; I needed a send-off, as I always do. One must leave with as much style as one enters a place.
So we gathered, Chanel, Sunny and a few new friends I had made along the way. We collected some more acquaintances along the way, and soon there were 20 of us around a table, sipping martinis and being generally loud and outrageous. We were gently asked by management to move outside as it seemed that Chinese ears were unaccustomed to such high pitches and shrieks. What with three gay black men making part of the bulk, we were a strange sight – and sound – to this land.
Outside, someone started talking about some story about a gal with a fetish for diarrhoea. Not that the subject entertained my thoughts deeply, but it was most enticing. The two stern German women behind us however didn’t find the topic so engrossing. Lifting themselves from their seats with a mechanic efficiency that would’ve made Einstein shout Eureka! all over again, they looked at our beautiful, fun group up and down and failed to find any humour in it (Germans usually don’t find much amusement in anything. Except diarrhoea fetishes maybe, so we could be potentially offending their taste for adventure). “We werrre trrrrying to eat hieeerr.” Instead of apologizing, we just laughed away until their offended faces had run to further pastures.
Inebriated and happy to be alive, we ended in a strange place, a club by the Worker’s Stadium. Not much to inform there, aside that obviously the Chinese were fascinated by the fact we even existed. We wouldn’t want to let them feel like they were missing out on the show so we made sure to use all the poles and stages available and gave them a lesson or two in self-confidence. Let us just hope they were taking notes.
Sunny then had the great idea to move onto a KTV, one of the karaoke parlours that appear every two seconds in the Chinese urban landscape. Some people got into cabs and we were supposed to follow, but between a topic and another we lost the way. It took us two hours to find the bleeding place, and all the while we were worried as our group didn’t know Sunny’s friends we were supposed to join, and we wondered what would be of the children.
When we finally reached the destination, we opened the door of the cabin to find Chinese and ex-pats all holding the boat together with litters of alcohol and much bad singing. I was glad to know that my children did exactly what Mamma would do – not give up and continue the party.
As for the collection of people present, it was indeed a bizarre lot we had gotten together. Mine was all flamboyant and loud people. Sunny’s addition to the entourage was a bunch of other Mafiosi, all extremely strange in their own, individual way (if that is possible in a place like China). One of her best friends was indeed a deliciously odd character. His hair was the colour of piss and his lazy eye looked at you in fascination before closing every two seconds and staying closed for another three.
The singing, on the other hand, was rendered quite boring with the Chinese simply sitting down and delivering their lyrics in animosity. I decided to show them how to do it and soon everyone was on their feet, shaking as best bas they could (bless them, they did try).
At 6am, we all parted ways. A few tears were shed and we voice promises of mutual visits and that yes we shall keep in touch; promises that will remain forever unfulfilled as we will probably forget each other without a moment’s hesitation. But for now, we are all happy.
I must say that, as I lay my head down, I felt scared about what this massive country has to offer me in the forthcoming weeks. This is the first time I have had such a feeling – me, such a well-versed woman in the cosmopolitan ways of life. China, however, is not just any country. It’s another planet.
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