Day -1 of China 2.0 got off to a relatively late start — but this wasn’t anything bad or anything. Rather it was just a case that folks were just flying in to get the thing started at 19:30, when the whole gang met at the hotel lobby.
And what a start — to conclude an already sunny day…
The evening was really a who’s who of not just the Chinese blogosphere, but of quite a bit of the blogosphere overall. @christinelu, @mbites, @kaiserkuo, @SheilaS, @dutchproblogger were just some of those newer names floating around, and Janet from the China Business Network also made it. We, of course, had some folks here early — including, of course, our very own @elliottng and @shelisrael (of course!), just to mention a few. (I’m sure we had a lot more!)
The dinner was pretty much what I can an “All You Can Eat-athon”. I started off with salad with French dressing, which — until the thing entered my mouth — I presumed was as good as the Swiss “real thing”. (Turns out it was a tad below expectations — but it was a healthy start no less.)
@kaiserkuo, @elliottng and @mbites got much of the chatter started, with Kaiser, of course, starting into many a Jing story and the landscape of the capital (in general). Most of note was the one-to-one meeting with Mike Butcher, who I’ve a lot of respect for. It was quite good conversing with a “native”, accent-wise; everyone else had a US accent, it seemed, so we were pretty much the only ones with a UK accent. I knew Mike Butcher from TechCrunch UK, and he’s pulling off great work there. Mike knew me around the end of 2007 to early 2008, when what used to be blognation China imploded and techblog86 got an early start.
The dinner was good, but it was the bit that came after that was totally unforgettable. The last time I did a foot massage (if ever!) was around 2005-ish, and even then I totally forgot how it felt. I thought it’d be an easy thing. No way.
Off we headed then. Liangzi Foot Massage just outside Jianguomen. In pretty much the dead of the night in the Jing.
Consider your own @DavidFeng an excessively prolific — and ticklish — tweeter. @shelisrael knew best.
First, three team captains picked who would be with whom. After two rounds, I landed in the same group with @mbites and Janet — a group of four in all. This was going to be the funniest group ever.
Every one of us started by having his or her leg totally scalded, it seemed. The water was nearly all black, so I feared I’d have my leg turn black afterwards, but apparently, all was well.
Next came the foot massage. This thing felt totally surreal as everyone was treated to random David Feng cries and excess yelling as the masseuse touched a sensitive spot — I kid you not, this thing was more sensitive than the Great Firewall or those banned Google search terms. The whole room exploded with peels of laughter as I cracked jokes — both in English and what appeared to be my best mimic of Beijinghua Chinese. (The masseuse loved this so much that she (a) begged me to be her boyfriend and (b) coaxed me to come back the next day, both of which were unfortunately refused.)
Finally came the shoulder massage. After 85 minutes of having my poor feet boiled, frozen and everything-in-betweened, the shoulder was next to get a right royal beating. Let’s just say that there were still a few cries as the guy smacked his fists in the wrong parts.
At the very end, though, everyone felt great.
And that would be a great start to Day 1 of China 2.0…
Ode to a Foot Masseuse
by Kaiser
They call it “reflexology,” and with brief apology,
I confess I only learned the word quite recently.
What they call it, I don’t care: ’round these parts, it’s something rare—
A massage where neither party acts indecently.
Here in China, as you know, from Heilongjiang down to Guangzhou,
Or the Lhasa Valley’s Himalayan ice,
It’s hard to find a town where you can’t get your feet rubbed down,
And enjoy it at a bargain-basement price.
It’s a pleasure so sublime it really ought to be a crime
But I’m awfully glad the foot-rub biz is legal.
When you’re seated in your chair, the feeling’s just beyond compare:
I think the word I’m looking for is “regal.”
They’re from Henan or Anhui—not from Zhengzhou or Hefei*
But from little county towns you’ve never heard of
These friendly country lasses from the agronomic classes
Off’ring service that your feet can be assured of.
When those foreign guests come calling and you’ve spent the day Great Walling,
Or strolling Kunming Lake at Summer Palace,
Nothing’s better for the feet—a major podiatric treat
That keeps those tender heels from going callous.
Corns and bunions she’ll endure, toe-jam smelling like manure
Athlete’s foot, or even fouler forms of fungus
But she won’t so much as sigh, and it costs but 80 kuai,
That is why, my friend, my gratitude’s humongous.
There’s a fascinating chart, describing how each body part
Is linked to certain sections of your feet
For your spleen or for your gonads, or your Grand Primordial Monads
There’s a spot to increase qi or quell the heat.
Soak your trotters in the tub, as you ready for the rub
And accept that this is going to hurt at first
There’s no pleasure without pain, her ministrations will make plain
And you’ll praise the fingers which, just now, you cursed.
It’s a universal fate, that when guys begin to date,
They’ll play the back-rub card at their first chance.
It’s a hackneyed first-date ruse, and to women, this ain’t news:
The masseur vamooses once inside your pants.
But our dour and faithful lass will prove she’s of a better class
And your tired ‘taters are the benefactors
She’ll go that extra mile, and she’ll do it with a smile,
And she’s free of such crass motivating factors.
It’s impossible to capture how from pain you come to rapture
As she kneads those knuckles up and down your sole,
I’m not waxing metaphoric when I say that it’s euphoric
When the angel breaks you down, and makes you whole.
* Zhengzhou and Hefei are the provincial capitals of Henan and Anhui, respectively
Hey alumni! Go…