Fishing With Dynamite

The television screens projected images of NBA Basketball playoffs, the showdown between Seattle and San Antonio, throughout the club. Through the fog of cigarette smoke, you could see a crowd around the pool table and a mass of people on the dance floor moving to the sounds of Snoop Dogg and Black Eyed Peas.

We arrived at Windows night club still stuffed with yummies from the Brazilian BBQ. On the way to the club, we roamed through a swank shopping area where people were lingering and a few people on our tour busted out the hackey sack. Beginning with our tour compatriots and later joined by some locals, the hackey sack is a great cultural bridge.

And so is NBA basketball and hip-hop. You would never think you were in China inside Windows (which, by the way, has no windows). It was a mix of locals and ex-patriots trying to find their way in China. The ex-pats, who all seem to be 6' tall 20/30 something white men from the States and the UK, are stars here. They are taller than everyone else and are usually oozing with money, financed with expense accounts from the corporate employers that convinced them to move to this strange land. We stepped out to get some air as two ex-pats, still in their button-down dress shirts and loosened ties, jumped on stage and hammed it up for the crowd to Eminem. "Two trailer park girls go round the outside, round the outside...."

On to the next destination, Mao Ming Street, where you can find techno, blues and jazz, hip hop or a quiet lounge. And a boatload of hookers. Anything that a bored ex-pat with more money than he can spend could possibly need.

We settled on the Blue Frog, a quiet bar with no hookers. There were three ex-pat Brits drinking away, sounding like they were having the time of their lives. Next to them was a Chinese girl who was with them, but didn't appear part of their party. I watched them, completely fascinated at what it must be like to live in Shanghai and truly have so much undeserved adoration. Trey called it fishing with dynamite -- having so much power by virtue of your skin color and loads of cash -- everything is too easy. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Apparently, there are Chinese women who make it a point to latch on to ex-pats and become their live-ins. They get to milk the corporate expense accounts and they follow their "boyfriends" around on their nights out.

The music in the Blue Frog was mixed, pop to Chinese to hip hop. Fifty Cent came on and the three Brits, in unison, bobbed their heads and put their hands in the air, yelling "I don't know what you heard about me, but I'm a mother fuckin' P-I-M-P."

Maintaining her blank smile, the Chinese girl remained utterly clueless as to the meaning of that song and why that line represents the power wielded by three geeks who wouldn't stand a chance of pullin' so much tail at home.

Today is Trey's 29th birthday and we celebrated with massages. We're going to party it up on the train tonight. Off to the liquor store and supermarket to stock up for our 26-hour journey to GuiLin and YangShuo.