By WATT EVA
Hipster Correspondent

‘I remember when this place was just me, and a few Red Guards.’

GULOU (China Daily Show) – A nine-year veteran of Beijing’s famous hutong district, Gulou, has vowed never to leave the area again, after a shocking experience outside the Second Ring Road last weekend.

Jake Trenton (pictured, right)  – who prefers to be known as Gao Fuhao – agreed to meet some former university friends touring China last Saturday evening, after Trenton had finished his regular kite-making workshop.

The 29-year-old has spent much of the last decade living in a converted Qing courtyard house while practicing tai chi, an experience funded partly by Trenton’s calligraphy sales and mostly by his wealthy Manhattanite parents.

“My buddies called and said they were in Sanlitun and had just bought a round of drinks,” Trenton told China Daily Show. “It was too late to warn them – I had to simply go.”

Sanlitun, an embassy district in north Beijing, is renowned for its excellent shopping, restaurants and bar scene. But it is also, according to Trenton and others, “the gateway to Hell itself” and “full of asshole foreigners.”

Nevertheless, Trenton obligingly rode his refurbished fixed-gear bicycle across town, arguing that the worst than could realistically go wrong was being jostled by a gaggle of 14-year-old drinkers, or possibly pestered by a beggar.

“Leaving my authentic, historically intact neighbourhood, with its colourful array of genuine Beijing folk and extremely real smell of shit is so hard to do. Almost impossible – I mean, why would you?” Trenton angrily mused. “But, if it was for a pair of really great university friends who’d traveled 3,000 miles just to see me, I was prepared to go and have a brew – a local microbrew, I mean.”

Trenton refused to be drawn on the details of what happened – other than divulging that the area was “absolutely full” of Americans and Europeans – but the experience has left him shaken and disillusioned.

Now the much-loved foreigner is telling friends he is also dismayed by what has become of his beloved Gulou neighbourhood in recent years.

‘If they could just get rid of the electricity, this place would be really authentic’

Witnesses report that on several drunken occasions, Trenton has threatened to throw in the towel and move to Tongzhou, a bleak suburb that he claimed was one of the last remaining resources of ‘Real China’ in Beijing.

As for what he believes qualifies as decent Chinese nightlife, Trenton was giving little away yesterday.

“I go to authentic little niche joints, many of which don’t have ‘names’ or specific ‘addresses.’ But I refuse to tell you which ones, in case someone reads this article and decides to come down and ruin it,” Trenton said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“The last place I fell in love with got profiled by some foreign journalist and within a week, they’d fired the bossa nova DJ – a guy I happen to know and enormously respect – and replaced him with an Akon CD. I can’t let that happen again.”

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Profile of a hipster: Tate Wallace, 27

City: Beijing

‘The Amnesiacs won a Grammy? What the fuck? They’re ruined’

Favorite band: A tiny drum ’n’ bass prog-rock collective called The Amnesiacs. You’ve definitely never heard them.

Hates: Tourists who don’t speak Chinese.

Loves: Wealthy Chinese in need of consultancy; The Amnesiacs. I also love myself.

TV: Huh. I stopped watching TV after Cop Rock got cancelled.

Books: Mostly Chinese classics: The Tao. The Kama Sutra. And I should mention my own memoir, wryly titled Hutonghua: The Life and Language of Real China (available exclusively via my website).

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By SAJIU FENG
Society Correspondent

Evans: ready to build a whole new life in China, then screw it all up again

BEIJING (China Daily Mail) – A terminal alcoholic has startled fellow wastrels by announcing his decision to settle in China.

 “I moved here unintentionally a couple of months ago,” recalls Harold Evans, 48. “I had to find somewhere to go fast, after being made to leave Thailand in completely outrageous circumstances.”

Evans – a traveller, writer, bon vivant and self-confessed “dreamer” – has spent much of his life on Streatham High Street, London.

He arrived in China following complications arising from a lack of visa.

“I never intended to stay more than a few days but this place got a hold of me,” Evans frankly admits, standing on the terrace of a popular uptown bar and addressing his remarks to a throng of non-English speaking students below.

“I’ve only been in China for two weeks and I’ve have already had my phone stolen twice!” he later marvels. “I’ve mistaken my hotel room for someone else’s apartment and admitted things I’ve never told anyone to a Yunnanese barman whose face I can’t quite recall.”

Evans confesses it was difficult to make the transition at first, as he’d considered himself to be at the peak of his drinking trajectory.

In just nine years, the retired brewery consultant has guided at least two marriages onto the rocks, lost an eight-year custody battle to a Valium-addicted former wife and embarrassingly forgotten the names of “more people than I can possibly remember.” 

Yet Evans longed for something more. 

“I had to look at myself and say: ‘Alright. Enough’s enough, Barry,’” the former hod-carrier told China Daily Show. “‘You had a good innings in Blighty – some might say one of the best – but it’s time to move on, while you’re still on your uppers.’”

Indeed, just four days before setting off on a short break to Thailand, Evans successfully lost a darts match at his local tavern, before falling over in the pub’s car park and soiling himself.

Still, he admits that China is not quite the gilded playground of cheap backrubs and bottomless ergotou it first appeared.

“There have been setbacks to the rule of lawless,” Evans warns. “The relatively recent introduction of a drink-driving rule is one notable fly in the ointment. But I get round that by simply not driving, and instead puking in the back of a rickshaw.”

But despite such restrictions, the successful British booze-artist says the scope for serious alcoholism in China is even bigger than it is in the West– and growing every day.

“It’s going to be the next big thing, China,” Evans muses, dabbing an unexplained bloodstain on his jersey. “A surging economy, loose borders, cheap ale. Count me in.”

And he has good advice for anyone wishing to follow in his footsteps.

“Never give up: life is full of surprises. Every day is a new beginning. Seriously – I can’t remember a bloody thing about yesterday.”

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Dear immaculately dressed West African gentleman loitering outside Yashow Market,

I’ve just split up with my girlfriend of three years, and although I felt ready to move on at the time, I find myself unable to be with anybody else. I keep trying to initiate conversation with girls I find attractive, but whenever something seems to lead somewhere I find myself losing interest and thinking about my ex. After three or four terrible dates I’ve started to worry that I’m never going to get over her, but she’s already happy with a new guy and has moved back to the States. What should I do?

Desperate, Dongzhimen

Hey man. Why you never call?

Immaculately dressed West African gentleman outside Yashow says:

Hey! Boss! Hey! How are you? I’m Mike. Let’s talk, man. Where you from? You’re a cool dude, right. Cool guy. Like your shoes, man. Yeah. So, you like to party, boss? Dude? You like to smoke a little? You love to smoke, right, boss? Yeah? Where you from? Oh, yeah? That’s awesome, yeah.

So, you smoke, right? I got some good stuff my friend. Good price, man, best in Beijing. I’ll look after you, you’re my friend, man. That’s why I only charge you friendship price, that’s right boss. Give me your number bro.

Where you going, boss?

Last week: Ask a foreign man who’s had fifteen failed relationships in eight months

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Dear foreign man who has had fifteen failed relationships in eight months,

I just returned to the US from China for the first time in seven years and fear I’m undergoing severe reverse-culture shock. I’ve already been ticketed and briefly jailed for speeding through a school crossing-zone, and fined for smoking in a hospital and library, parking on the sidewalk, running a red light, littering, and spitting on a supermarket floor.

After innocently yelling “fuwuyuan!” and waving my arms in an upscale restaurant while out dining with friends, I have also slowly begun to be socially ostracized.

Worst of all, my attempts to subtly hit on Chinese hotties half my age by complimenting them on their English skills and offering language tutorials at the local Applebee’s happy hour have been met, frankly, with hostility. “What?” “Get the fuck away from me!” and “I’m an American, you douchebag” are just three of the improbable responses I’ve had to endure.

My family is threatening an intervention. But there are, unbelievably, no support groups in place to deal with the very real problem of Sino-addiction in the New York state area.

Any tips on how I might make this difficult transition easier?

Sino-cized in Syracuse

Foreign man who has had fifteen failed relationships in eight months says:

St Patrick's Day is a really great time to meet girls; I think maybe it's the hat.

That’s it. I think I’m done with Chinese girls – and I mean it this time.

I really thought this last one was going well. I’m just trying to be myself: university education (red-brick), travel experience (Bali, Goa, Krakow), good salary (8000 yuan a month, plus the university throws in free accommodation and cafeteria vouchers), a comprehensive knowledge of the history of Manchester United (1985-2011) with a Stone Roses B-sides, rarities and outtakes collection… what Chinese guy is going to be able to provide that?

I don’t stalk or harass – I hardly ever even call – plus being Western-educated means I’m completely open-minded about feminism and suchlike: if a woman wants to explore any bi-curious fantasies they might have with another woman and me, I’m absolutely down with that. Yet every time I think I’m getting close to someone, we break up.

Either I stop calling or she finds out where I work and then keeps showing up claiming she’s pregnant and loudly shouting in Chinese with a sandwich board all about me written in big characters – that’s happened twice – or knocking on my apartment door at 2am when I’m entertaining her successor, “Kinki” (who, by the way, most certainly wasn’t). Anyway, there’s either this enormous cultural gap or language barrier that no matter how hard we both try, neither of us can… hang on, that Xinjiang girl over there keeps looking over at me. I’ll be right back.

Last week: Ask the mean lady at the Beijing Exit-Entry Administration Bureau

Next week: Ask an immaculately dressed West African gentleman loitering outside Yashow Market

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By XING CHOUWEN
Entertainment Correspondent

Hannigan said alcohol will play a key role in bringing his vision to the screen

BEIJING (China Daily Show) – After taking full advantage of a 2-for-1 special on Mojitos at a downtown Beijing bar, self-defined freelance artist Brian Hannigan, 27, informed friends and onlookers that he would commence shooting on his eagerly anticipated China movie, starting first thing Monday morning.

“It’ll open on the subway, with this foreigner – played by me – looking all lost and confused?” the former steel welder-turned-cinematic auteur asked a rapt audience of wait staff.

“There’s, like, beggars and prostitutes everywhere. But everyone avoids eye-contact… which is weird.”

The specifics of how Hannigan’s narrative continues were unclear at press time, but vignettes colorfully drawn in red pen across several napkins were shown to bar staff and patrons at the impromptu preview.

Among planned scenes were insightful shots of an overturned bicycle, an old woman scavenging through garbage, sleeping security guards and what Hannigan said was his favorite motif, a paper bag blowing through Tiananmen Square.

Hannigan was at pains to insist that the film would be “a total departure from the usual indie crap you see out here,” and would instead “really get to the bare bones of China.”

Film student and occasional collaborator Forrest Vincent, 25, said he hoped the fledgeling director would choose his proposed title – Red, White and Yellow: A Reel American in Real China – over Hannigan’s own tentative moniker Fuck All This Shit.

His arm around the waist of girlfriend Dolphin’s slight waist, a visibly intoxicated Hannigan said the film as a whole was intended as an indictment of both China and those foreigners who visit the country, behave badly and pronounce themselves expert Sinologists during their brief sojourn.

“Losers who come here to get laid and make snap cultural judgments about a culture they have no insight into, basically,” Hannigan explained. “Hey, man, another Mojito,” he added.

Despite having lived in Beijing nearly four years, Hannigan has declined to take up a now-dwindling number of job offers, ruling them “another form of Communist slavery.” He has also refused to learn Chinese, insisting that such a decision would “play right into [the government’s] hands.”

“English has power out here,” he told our rapidly tiring reporter. “Nobody responds to Chinese. It’s all, like, censored. If you want to get through to the migrant workers, the peasants and the grassroots artists, use the lingua franca. English. What Chinese person will turn to Chinese-language film as a source of inspiration? Would you?” he asked a bemused passer-by, mopping spittle from the bar.

Questioned as to how he intended to fund his magnum opus, Hannigan remained tight-lipped but close friends have hinted that a close relative, Michael Hannigan, a retired company head, is said to have expressed an obligation to show interest in the project.

“Make no mistake, after I pick up my friend Josh’s camera first thing tomorrow, things are going change in the Middle Kingdom,” Hannigan emphasized. “A hard wind’s a-blowing.”

As of 3pm Monday, however, Hannigan was still asleep on friend and executive producer Mitch Trader’s couch, after watching a succession of episodes of The Wire as part of his ongoing background research.

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Dear English teacher with a hangover,

I am wondering if you could pep up the lessons a bit, because frankly –  I’m just as bored as you are. I learned the Alphabet Song when I was two. Santa Claus crafts aren’t doing it for me (nobody in Beijing has a chimney anyway) and if I have to read Spot Sees a Bee one more time, I will repeat my noodles on your business casual/hangover Uggs. Honestly, I am six and we’re in first grade already. So how about you work on a decent curriculum over those Tsingtaos?

A New York Times crossword puzzle? The literary symbolism of Tolkien? Maybe some algorithms for building rockets? My God, our relations with Korea might be going to hell and we need to have a serious political discussion about it.

But instead we spend fifteen minutes every day repeating the class rules and talking about the weather – with flashcards. And – surprise – every day it’s “cloudy and cool.” All of this might be good for your headache, but can you take it up a notch? Maybe a lesson on global warming and the effects of smog? Hell, bring in a fog machine, do a pollution dance. Anything.

Jesus! If only I could speak English I could tell you all of this. Anyhow, thanks for listening. Good luck and gan bei.

Yours educationally,
Ambosia in Anzhen

Man, this teaching English gig would be awesome if it weren't for the fucking students

English teacher with a hangover says:

Christ, I feel like shit. Hang on, are you one of my students? OK, OK. What time is it? Fuck: Class was 40 minutes ago! Where’s my phone? Oh, shit – five missed calls from the university. What’s this? Jesus, I called Fang Fang last night at three… oh man. Bad idea. Wait, wait… so who was that chick I was doing shooters with – Bingbing? Lingfling? – what happened to her, any idea? Oh God, Mr Wang is gonna be major-league pissed… wait. Where the fuck is my wallet? Goddamit, Bingfling!

Last week: Ask a hooker outside Smuggler’s at 4am on a Friday

Next week: Ask a paranoid foreigner working in a state-owned enterprise.

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Dear hooker outside Smuggler’s at 4am on a Friday,

I’m an expat German wife living in Beijing. I suspect that my husband, a high-level executive for a well-known mobile phone brand, might be fooling around behind my back. All the signs are there: sudden phone calls and text messages that he won’t take or leaves to answer; loss of interest in marital sex; and “business emergencies” that call him out to hotels in the middle of the night where he never answers his phone. Mostly, it’s his sudden desire to tutor an attractive 19-year-old Chinese girl in German, who can barely say auf wiedersehen, but shows an inordinate interest in bratwurst. What’s a worried wife to do? Confront him or pretend that all is well for the sake of our two children and his career?

Yours,

Fräulein Scheissenfreude

It's cold. Why we not go to yours?

Hooker outside Smuggler’s at 4am on a Friday says:

You are nice man! Where u hotel? I like you to meet for romantic helping hands. Horny and sizzle the hot massage, lovely beautiful girl for you! 1,000 RMB. We do not perform sexual services of any kind. How you pay?

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By TIANTIAN XIANGSHANG
Education Correspondent

Cooter, 33, pictured at a wine-tasting event

BEIJING (China Daily Show) — An English teacher at Beijing’s No. 6 University of Horticulture & HVAC Repair called administrators Sunday to inform them that  “yesterday’s Saturday morning class has been canceled.”

Read the full story