Lots of Pork.

Everywhere you go in Hong Kong, the number one edible product is pork. There is no avoiding it, and attempting to keep Kosher there would be incredibly difficult. Our professor showed as a picture of some "premium grade beef" where the primary ingredient was pork. When you ordered chicken fried rice, guess what it came with, little pieces of pork. And while pork was everywhere in Hong Kong, music was not.

Sorry for the lame intro about pork. It really has nothing to do with music except for the fact that people care about digesting the pig more than musical notes in what HK dubbed itself as "Asia's World City." Asia is a continent rich in musical tradition, foreign scales, and unbelievably talented child prodigies, but the live music scene was a mixed bag of pork rinds.

On my first day there, I ventured out to find a digital camera. While making my purchase at King Dragon, I discovered a high-end audio set-up in the back portion of the store. After flipping out from some of the sweet equipment, the owner of the store played me some Stan Getz on his Boston Acoustic 303s. He was so proud of the fact that they were not made anymore. They did sound nice, and it was really the last I'd hear of good music in Hong Kong.

On my way out of the store, I asked some of the younger employees if there were any good live music spots in Hong Kong. They said no. I asked about any good jazz spots. They said no. Anything??

The owner responded, "Hong Kong is not the place for music."

I walked out disappointed, but I got a sweet camera. He was right though. I had read this in guides and online, but I would not be stopped.

On the second day of our trip, Jason took me to an Asian music instrument store which he had bought a Sanxian from on his previous trip. I learned to play his Sanxian over a couple weeks freshman year, and fell in love with it and wanted to buy one of my own. We arrived to the instrument store, divided East and West, piano or Sanxian, violin or guzheng, guitar or zither. The Chinese place such an important emphasis on maintaining their Chinese "essence" while adjusting to the changes of modernization. The ethereal harmonization of the guzheng really tantalized me. The store clerk bowed the zither a little and made it sing, but it could only play two notes! I needed something more involved.

Then, I saw it. I played it. I bought it. I asked what it was called. He said, "B'at." I carried it around for the entire trip. Played it at Buddhist monasteries, in Kowloon Park, and on the beach in Lantau Island. My connection to the B'at was deep and it became a part of my musical family. Its easy tuning of G-D-G-D made it easy to play, and it resounded with nearly Appalachian tones. I played the B'at like a bluegrass instrument and got some attention from the locals in the park. It was fun, and I had some Chinese essence in me. Maybe a little pork isn't too bad.

But nevermind my instrument, back to other people's. After many nights of going to sleep early trying to overcome overall exhaustion from an all-intensive trip and being 12 hours ahead of bodily-time schedule, I decided to go out and find some nightlife in the infamous Lan Kwai Fong (LKF) District. LKF is bar after bar after bar after bar each with a different theme. I had read that some of the bars had cover bands.

The first bar we went to with music was "Insmonia." After a beer, we headed to the back where a Filipino cover band was playing songs by Bryan Adams, AC/DC, and Bon Jovi. I guess cover bands are the same all around the world. The singer was talented and could really wail. And while I really wanted to hear the keyboardist take some mean solo, cause I knew he could, the real solo attention was on the shredding guitarist. He could sweep pick the dust of the floor, but I wish his guitar was not counterfeit. It was missing some markings that would definitely make it a Fender and it sounded way tooooo dark for a Maple fretboard and his relatively treble-ey settings on his beautiful tube amp. Despite my criticisms, he really was excellent and understood the international language of rock. I gave him a "rock on" sign and he stuck out his tongue like an East Asian Gene Simmons. A beautiful moment.

My final musical stop for the trip was the bar next door, an Irish pub which I noticed was playing some funky music. I went up to the DJ. His specialization was funky old-school rap and grooving beats. I requested some Parliament, and he was more than down.

Later in the evening, some of my classmates were unfortunately trying to start shit with the cool DJ because he wouldn't play Bon Jovi. I told the kid to go next door where the cover band wouldn't stop playing Bon Jovi. He didn't care. He asked the DJ, "What? Did Bon Jovi fuck your girlfriend or something?" Of course, the DJ got in his face and asked him if he wanted to get 'randy.' The Sternie continued provoke him to until the DJ's buddy came over and stopped any trouble from happening. Despite all the pork in Hong Kong, I know who the real pigs were. We ate, we drank, we brought nothing of value to the country accept for stupid kids at bars. If we could do better and listen to the sounds of the country, maybe the music would be a little better. Maybe an appreciation of culture instead of an appreciation of nightlife will enhance creativity between the two cultures. I'll be back searching for more and playing on the streets again with my b'at, trying to find the music somewhere.

Postscript: the b'at is actually called the Chinese Pipa and is a relative of the Iranian barbat. it is a relative to the lute, and incredibly difficult to tune.