Josh Feola

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July 5, 2009

Drums and drone

Another weekend, another post-late night late afternoon post.


As everyone knows (see below) I did my best to celebrate July 4th from Beijing. This is the second straight year I've been out-of-country for the 4th. Last year I celebrated by acting obnoxiously and uncharacteristically "American" toward my dear English friends and fellow Indonesia volunteers Kelly and Kate (basically saying "awesome" a lot and talking about herding cattle and generally playing into whatever other stereotypes they could throw at me). This year I wore a red white and blue plaid shirt and went out to meet a new friend, Elaine, the graphic designer I hutong-ed with last Friday. Elaine had a new, equally interesting crew lined up for the night: a Swiss artist-in-residence visiting from Kunming, an Italian PhD-in-progress studying acupuncture for the summer, and a guy named Bai Wei who's currently filming a documentary on stem cell research in China.

Also in tow was Twist, a Beijing-born English professor who lives in Elaine's building. Twist is a very cool guy (with a very cool name). After talking about religion and vegetarianism a bit I was excited to learn that Twist is a Hare Krishna. I had no idea that Krishna consciousness existed in China, but I learned from Twist that there is a small but committed group of devotees in the city.

One of the things I did to celebrate my country's independence was to try one of the most thoroughly "Beijing" of consumables, dou zhi (豆汁). This literally means "soybean juice", but is under no circumstances to be confused with the soy milk you buy at Whole Foods in wonderfully processed and palatable flavors. Dou zhi is very fermenty. Definitely an acquired taste, and one that even most "new school" Beijingers don't bother to acquire. I liked it, but given that my resume includes several years of veganism, one year of strict macrobiotics, and more recently various episodes of dietary exploration I guess I'm not exactly the least common denominator when it comes to thresholds for culinary weirdness.

After dinner I went to Gulou (鼓楼), Beijing's famous Drum Tower. We'd planned on going to an "Old Shanghai" event that somehow translated to dudes in red hats and matching Adidas short shorts... ended up just sitting outside and mooching the ambient music leaking through the walls while enjoying cheap beers from the mart next door and a sporadic breeze. After his third nip of baijiu Bai Wei became passionately engaged in elaborating upon numerous subjects to which he has dedicated much thought, notably stem cells, Obama's greatness, and the virtues and vices of Chinese women. Nice to have atypical conversations that move beyond the "who are you, what are you doing here, how long are you staying" exchanges I've had with most people I've met.

I went home at around 3am. This was my first time to Gulou, which is about 5 miles from my house, and got lost several times on the return trip, but I didn't mind. Riding my bike here, especially late at night, is a joy. There was some initial roughness with my new ride but after convincing my seat to remain solidly horizontal I've really fallen in love with my scrap heap of a bicycle. The brakes don't work so well so sometimes I have to screech to a halt by dragging my feet on the pavement Fred Flintstone style, and the lack of a bell means I've had to whistle a lot (for some reason I've defaulted primarily to "Michelle" by the Beatles and "Jump" by Van Halen for this purpose, do not ask me why), but these are minor bumps in an otherwise stellar relationship thus far.

I woke up this morning with a bill in my door that I initially read to be 1,000 RMB, but later discovered was my 10RMB ($1.50 USD) water bill, so everything's good. I'm currently in my office, alone, jamming Black Monk at full volume, can I really get any more narcissistic than literally listening to my own voice (albeit chopped and droned) over loudspeakers? Anyway it's putting me in a good zone, I need to buckle down and get some work done for monday. I also need to work on taking more pictures, huh? Will get on that.

Bm by Black Monk  
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Filed under  //   Beijing   bikes   Black Monk   China   dou zhi   豆汁   鼓楼   gulou  

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June 27, 2009

I can listen, I can talk

Last night I got to see the one Beijing band I had previously heard of, Carsick Cars. It happened to be their major tour-ending, 2nd cd-releasing blowout show. Not much of a blowout actually, just two bands. The first one had a very atmospheric, shoe-gazey thing going on, which was fine until it was punctuated by weird guitar thrashes and high-pitched wailing, along with seriously obnoxious lights (not their fault). I wasn't too into it but I had no expectations and I was psyched to see anything with a general indie reference point.


The Cars, though, were pretty good. I've heard them compared to Sonic Youth from several sources, but I didn't hear that so much at first. They played a solid 45-minute set that sounded like an average of every SST record put out in 1984 except with an overall posi (read: saccharine) vibe. Nothing groundbreaking, but very enjoyable. After this first set they made one of the least subtle "ok we're done unless you really want us to play another song" stage exits I've ever seen. The obligatory encore literally started within 2 minutes. And I was much more into it. I started to understand the SY references, this was darker and noisier. They finished one song, played a crowdsourced hit, and then left again. This time I thought there was about a 50% chance of another return. They came back 5 minutes later and did a pitch-perfect cover of my favorite Stooges song, which sealed the deal for me. Big co-sign.

After the show I explored some abandoned hutongs with a group of people who all have very cool job titles: graphic artist, urban game designer, architect, filmmaker, Artforum correspondent. Got me thinking: can I still call myself an archaeologist even if it's just to sound cool? At any rate I did employ my archaeological skillset to date the abandonment of the hutongs we were sneaking around in to ca. 1999 as there were not one, but two Matrix posters hanging within. There was a weird high school bad kid element to the whole hutong session (jumping fences after midnight to drink warm beer in an abandoned lot?), but it was fun. Topics of conversation evolved naturally from architecture to cryogenics (I think MJ's passing was somehow the mediating point). I didn't talk much, mostly listened.

Woke up feeling a bit raw from the aforementioned warm beers and my day got a little rawer when my landlord came knocking down my door at 8am to inform me that my bike had been stolen. Several people I've never met confirmed this as I walked down the one flight of stairs separating my room from the outside world. That these people knew it was my bike that was stolen and aggregated seemingly for the sole purpose of informing me of the theft was weird and, to be honest, a little suspicious, but I'll write it off as community development and chock it up as a W. The bike was, in fact, gone, which sucks.

RIP THE MIGHTY KHAN: 6/21/09 - 6/27/09

Up next: Beijing Bicycle Lock

You Can Listen You Can Talk by Carsick Cars  
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Filed under  //   Beijing   bikes   Carsick Cars   China   hutong   Pettibon   Stooges  

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June 25, 2009

Beijing Bicycle

Riding a bicycle in Beijing is really fun, especially if you like cheating death. My boss gave me his hand-me-down Khan bike so he could upgrade, or downgrade, to a ride with more street cred, but I'm perfectly happy falling in the ex-pat pack with this model. It's big, a plus since being visible is a life or death matter on these streets.

I'm being melodramatic. It was only on day one that I had some potentially life-threatening scrapes. On day two I got my street legs. By day three I was virtually local in my casual disregard for cars with perfectly legitimate objections to my presence in their lane. There actually proved to be very little difference between these three evolutionary steps, except exponential increases in use of the novelty bell on my right handlebar.

So having a bike means I'll be highly mobile, and hopefully will have some solid field trips documented here over the next few weeks. At least until it gets too cold. I'm a huge advocate of walking, but now that I have this bike I feel like I'm commuting for the first time. What was I thinking before? I guess Boston is much smaller than Beijing.

Now I need to join a bicycle gang.

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Filed under  //   Beijing   bikes   China  

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