Jottings from the Granite Studio

I’ve never done it. YJ has never done it before either. So last night we had a couple of beers and finally took the big step that every couple must before they get married in China…we went to one of those singing-dancing Xinjiang revue restaurants and it was….not as bad as it could have been.

Definitely high kitsch, though. We went to the Xinjiang Red Rose, across from the north gate of Worker’s Stadium. We’d heard it was (slightly) less touristy than Afunti so…what the hell. The mutton was good and comes in three basic sizes: nuggets on a stick, a limb, or the whole damn sheep roasted with what looks like a blowtorch. I also have to say too that Xinjiang beer tastes better. I have no idea why I like it, though I do have a friend who calls it “Chinese Coors Light.” Ouch.

The show was what you think it would be. Lots of belly dancing and Xinjiang folk music. The girls were certainly watchable. And the four–”drunk” really doesn’t do justice–obliterated Uighurs sitting next to us were quite impressed as they shoved 100 RMB notes into the girls’ bras and skirts. Despite the boys, it wasn’t nearly as rowdy as I’ve heard it can be. The dancers would bring various (male) customers onto the stage for a bit of a laugh. The Chinese guys had the most enthusiasm even if their gyrations looked a bit…well, like they were either having a seizure or were wearing some sort of thong made entirely of fire ants.

After that we wandered over to Nanjie for post-game refreshments (YJ’s discovered the “Funky Monkey” over there). The front gate to the lot was closed, but there’s a back door (who knew?) and we sat outside and basked in the ambiance of drinking al fresco in a gutted, neon-lit parking lot. Beijing 2008! One World! One Dream! One cheap-ass dive bar!