18: Club Propaganda

In China, there is no minimum age for drinking or smoking (or anything else as porn and voting are extremely limited), so last night was the night I took advantage. I went with a group of people to a local club called “Propaganda” (ironic, I know) as most of us don’t have class until late on Thursdays.

The Setting: Ladies’ night. The girls paid ¥30 ($4.41) and the guys ¥60 ($8.82).  Propaganda is divided into three levels. The uppermost was a lounge area with a pool table, the middle a bar, and the basement a dance floor, which is where the nine of us spent most of our time. They tended to play mixed American and European dance music (the DJ was pretty good), and they love Lady Gaga; we probably listened to all of The Fame during our four-hour stay. Like most dance clubs, the lights were out, strobes were on, and the heat was up. Oh, and it was open bar.

The People: If you’ve heard the expression “white guys can’t dance,” you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Chinese guys sporting jeans and blazers awkwardly sway side to side with their hands above their heads, hoping to attract the ladies (Chinese women, on the other hand, tended to dance pretty well). The barkeeps buzzed all night long. People pulled at their shirts to get their drinks in, ignoring all formalities of a queue. There was no organization to this chaos.

The Experience: Most people in my program are 20, ie still unable to drink in the States. Though I too am 20, I didn’t have the strong desire to get shit-faced within the first half-hour of drinking. Nevertheless, three shots of tequila, two martinis, and three beers later, I was pretty drunk. I danced with everyone—Chinese and American—and had a fantastic time. There were a few times when I had to ask my American friends to assist pulling me away from Chinese men, but I’ve had to do that regardless of what country I’m in. The nice thing about Chinese guys is that they are more respectful than American men. They won’t grope you or try to make a move without fairly blatant permission, which makes them excellent people to dance with (minus their inability to, you know, dance).

No Mom, I don’t have a hangover. Yes Mom, I’m safe. No Mom, I didn’t go home with anyone but the group I left with. Yes Mom, I’ll probably do it again.