Going Out.

Going Out.


So this past Friday night we went out to a bar with a bunch of Chinese kids: students, roommates, roommates boyfriends and girlfriends. When I say we, I mean my friend Hannelore, myself and another CET student. All in all the score was 3 to 5 Americans to Asians.

We Went Out to Sanlitunr. An area of Beijing rampant with foreigners, it’s where the Kids go to drink, dance, etcetera.


Fun stuff, especially seeing as how that night was the first time my roommate, Hannelore’s roommate, and Hannelore’s roomate’s boyfriend had ever been to a bar. They’re all college sophomores or older in a country where the drinking age is 16, and yet this is the first time they’ve gone out. Gone Out, like the American definition.


So we showed them how to Go Out. The bar we went to actually puts dice in cups on the table for you, so we started off teaching them the traditional seven, eleven or doubles. So far so good. Our Chinese friends prefer beer to hard liquor, partly, I think, because the only Chinese hard liquor is baijiu, which is gross. Lots of beer and more dice later, obviously the girls set off to dance.

This wasn’t the biggest place and we had a table, so it was pretty easy to spy on the dancefloor. One of our Chinese friends is breakin’ it down by herself, clearly the best dancer in the place. Hannelore’s roommate is dancing with her boyfriend. Though not quite what we would call ‘dancing together’. There was a notable lack of crotch-ass interaction. Hmm.


So what’s left? I’ve often heard it said that Chinese college students’ romantic relationships are like America’s high school awkward pairings. I’ve also heard that this is because they really are kept from dating in high school. Maybe it’s high school in college, but they still mean it. The two that are dancing together are still cute and obviously enjoy eachother’s company. It’s just that they’re not as, um, intimately involved as the American equivalent.

They can still drink just fine. The roommate and her boyfriend and my roommate keep up, beer and shots later, back to dancing. The dancefloor has a stripper pole. The couple takes turns wrapping their arms around the other and conversely fighting away the other’s advances.


There’s that, and then there’s the other thing. Another Chinese girl came with us. She spent a lot of time flirting with one of our fellow American students, dancing in such a way that she could keep up in any college frat basement. Every so often she would start dancing in front of a mirror, by and for herself.

“I’d get into trouble dancing like this in America, right?” Eyes immovably fixed on some far away point, she runs a hand through her hair and smiles.