Flashback from Part 1: The next part will feature a few snippets from the show and other exciting things in Macau like the town square and the Manchester United experience. As a special bonus, there will be a write up on our terrifying return into the Mainland and our agonizing departure from Shanghai.
Being a Quentin Tarantino fan is not easy. First of all, no mother, however cool, can possibly approve of his movies. Second, he now makes very very long movies without the crispness, back and forth in time or cool of Pulp Fiction. Yet, I persist. Hence this email will be a)long and b)feature some element of back and forth in time. (Hopefully, it will be “cool”, in parts at least.) So this email has 3 stories. You can start anywhere. It doesn’t matter. Definitely not to Tarantino.
Story A: A tale of Airport clerks, da laoban & xiaojie, awkward seating and bad movie
Rewind to Shanghai Airport, Saturday morning. We had changed flights because the Shanghai Airlines had cancelled its morning flight to Macau. We went up to the Air Macau counter where we were told that the flight was full and only when they closed the counter (with 25 minutes left to take-off) would they tell us if we had seats. We then ran to Shanghai Air who said “Ok, you have seat, they give you after they close counter”.
“Can you please make sure we get on that flight. We need to be on the flight. Can you call them and confirm please”
“Yes ok” Empty space. Empty smile. Awkward Silence.
“Can you call them now please”
“Yes ok” Repeat 3X.
We gave up. Also please note, this was in Chinese, so it wasn’t a lost in translation issue. Back at the other counter, we assured the guy that we would stand right next to his counter until it closed and he gave us a seat. I suspect this is the day of the week where these guys get to feel really important.
But it was fun standing at the counter, because you get to see the shapes, sizes and relationships of the folks going to Macau. Happy families, hard core gamblers in hats and sunglasses, young couples, young singles, returning employees and laowai (chinese for firang) but there is one very special group that I found interesting. Slightly PG from here on.
40-60 year old unfashionable da laoban. (Chinese for bada saab, big boss) accompanied by 1 very fashionable young lady. This is the xiaojie (Chinese for miss, various interpretations to this one). Not a lady of the night, but his full time mistress. How do I know you ask? I am a student of marketing, and the da laoban forms a very very profitable market segment for luxury goods. He buys some expensive things (top end food processor, Merc/BMW, farmhouse) for his wife and other expensive things (Gucci, Prada, LV, apartment) for his xiaojie. The da laoban may be a high ranking govt official or a successful business man. Sometimes, the line between these two is very blurry or non-existent.
The existence of the da laoban has resulted in some very interesting outcomes. For example, at the high end english language classes in Shanghai (3000 USD/year for a once a week part-time program), there only 2 kinds of customers. Take one guess. Da Laoban, learning english to interact with white clients and 20-something girls trying to find a good da laoban to hook up with. Most are there looking for a good husband though, to be fair to them.
Un-PG again.
So we finally did get a seat on the flight, and just to be extra sweet to us, aforesaid check-in counter guy gave us center seats far away from each other. Thanks buddy. Just as luck would have it, we were on a plane with the sweetest people ever and hence after asking about 10 people, the air hostess said she was sorry, but nobody would switch seats. Once again, to be fair, both were center seats so all is fair in love, war and air travel.
The flight had a chinese version of a standard chick flick where this girl meets 12 different suitors who are weird in one way or the other. I have to say this – but Da Laoban was one of the varieties. (My book on segmentation of luxury and essential FMCG market segments in China is on the anvil) This film was as well made as the Zee Horror Show. I couldn’t stop watching. Not much by way of conversation since both neighbors were asleep as well as sworn enemies for having enforced such judaai upon us.
Guten Nacht Dumbkopfen. Willkomen Macau.
Story B: Memoirs of the big show
Timewarp kicks in. We are now inside the hall, where we have the best seats in the house since we have backrests since we are in the last row. Yes, the last row. We booked with 3 days left to the event and hence the awesome seats.
In reality though, they weren’t that bad and we could see all the action pretty well.
Boman Irani, Riteish Deskmukh and Lara Dutta were hosting the show. After Ranbir and Imran @ Filmfare, it was really impossible to top that performance.
Boman Irani, is the consummate entertainer, with a past in stage and was fantastic at handling the crowd.
IMHO, Riteish is not funny. The performance focused on jokes about Aamir (not attending) and Slumdog and some inane references to how movies before his time were lousy. No jokes about how daddy took RGV to the Taj on 29/11 and got fired or why his name is spelt wrong.
Lara Dutta is stunning, but she speaks like a 4th standard school elocution participant. The only thing Mrs Verdi, my teacher, would have scolded her about was not clasping her hands in the elocution clasp, arms bent at elbows, hands under chest, sort of a yin-yang using the fingers. One did this in school because one was basically praying for 3 things during elocution.
a) You wouldn’t forget your lines.
b) You pulled your zip up after going to the toilet. Too late to look down and check.
c)Nobody else chose to use the same piece you were using (Chances are highest if you choose Charge of the Light Brigade or Daffodils or Leisure)
Lara was basically praying for a) and b) but not c). Not c) because her lines were terrible and probably written by the script writer from the chinese chick flick on our flight or the guy who wrote Mission Istanbul. And they were being shown to her on a “Telereader” which a guy kept blocking and she kept asking to get out of the way.
Anyways a few bad jokes later, the technical awards were given away. Resul Pokutty won for Jodha Akhbar! This time everyone knew who he was. Dennis Rodman hair guy won best action for Ghajini. Ghajini convinces me there is a lot of pent up rage in our country and we still want to see people bash each others brains out or perhaps Aamir walks around with gloves on at home because he really is Midas reborn.
Jodha Akhbar fails, Luck By Chance fails, Dilli 6 fails and Ghajini is a superhit.
Universe – You win. We will never be able to explain everything.
A special moment in the show was when Abhishek B carried the Tarun Mansukhani, the director of Dostana up to the stage to accept the Best Actor in a Comic role award. After years of suffering slapstick idiots such as Johhny Lever, Lakshmikant Bedekar, pet poms and pigeons, we finally have intelligent situational humor winning. Abhishek then cited seeing Amitabh do the solo talk to the mirror in Amar, Akbar, Anthony as a moment of inspiration. I think that is definitely one of the funniest scenes in Indian cinema ever.
Another part of the show that was really fun was when Boman conducted an antakshari with the film stars. Some of them were average at best, such as Sonam Kapoor (after tons of prodding by Boman she sang na na karte pyar tumhi se), Bipasha (thande thande pani se), Arjun Rampal (shouting Jai Ho 15 times is not acceptable, however good looking you are). Farhan Akhtar and Priyanka Chopra did the song from Rock On, but Farhans voice isnt quite what it sounds like on the tape.
The superstars proved why they are where they are with Hrithik showing the crowd that not only can he dance better than everyone, he could have been a playback singer if he wanted. Unbelievable. Really.
Amitabhachan then did Kabhi Kabhi and the crowd went crazy. He also said 1 line from “Mere pass aao mere doston” which also rocked.
Finally, one last replay from the event – ROPM (refer prior email Rakeysh Om Prakash Mehra) was giving away the award for best music and AR Rahman won. Ashutosh Gowarikar was asked to come and receive the award. Effects of the powershot that ROPM had given himself had still not faded, hence ROPM delivered an acceptance speech on behalf of AR Rahman, saying where he was, why he couldnt come, what he had for lunch, how much it cost etc etc. We, in the audience, were fairly baffled. To make matters more bizarre, Ashutosh G then decided to sing AR’s acceptance of the award, claiming AR told him to. Ashutosh G sang an acceptance again at a later point., I think everybody gets some LSD to get them through the show. We only had orange juice and nachos and hence this appeared strange. Our fault no doubt.
After the show, we chose not to gamble away our little monies next to da laobans (with xiaojie on arm) or DJ Aqeel. Gambling is a very expensive vice and best engaged in on money earned from corruption (of state-owned company for da laoban, and music for DJ Aqeel)
Story C: Mosaic and Manchester United
Having had an excellent breakfast (this is an area where Nayana and I agree completely – 2 eggs, 4 toast, orange juice, coffee/tea is the definition of excellent breakfast) we headed out to old town Macau. With limited time on our hands, we decided to start at the Macau Square. This is an absolutely beautiful part of the city, with black and white mosaic used to great effect. The buildings are old Portuguese style and one can stand and stare at the quaint beauty of these structures (as long as sheep or cows – thanks Davies). We took in the beautiful churches and the cobbled streets, knowing fully well that we were to return to ultra modern and in many ways, soulless Shanghai. Xintiandi is nice, but its not 200 years old. There is something inexplicable about how the historical nature of a place makes it more memorable. USA is the only exception. They really (re)invented marketing. You know you’ve been America’ed when you go to Montezuma Castle in Arizona, buy a shotglass, a spoon and a t-shirt and later realize that Montezuma was never at Montezuma Castle. And you love it.
But I digress. Macau Square is lovely and has that super laid back feel that you only get in Goa :) Yes, Its better in Goa. Inspite of all the t-shirts, unending shacks and Uttarkhand service staff that knows less about Goa than the foreigners - Its definitely better in Goa. Its definitely the Portuguese touch. Without doubt, there are beaches north and south of Goa that are more beautiful, but the vibe is what makes it one of the most popular destinations in the world.
Being half-Goan (0 % Portuguese ancestry thanks to the strength, valor and non-sellout kick-ass nature of my ancestors) I still must applaud the Portuguese sossegad spirit.
And it is this spirit that makes me love Macau. We spent as much time as we could walking in the square and finally went back to the Venetian to take in the Manchester United Experience.
For the uninitiated, I am a huge huge huge fan of Manchester United F.C. The MUFC Experience in Macau is a spectacular virtual/physical tour of Old Trafford (the hallowed united stadium) which sits on top of a giant MU store. The tour starts with you entering a giant room where the floor is the MU crest. Nayana, from here on, had switched from tourist to child photographer since I had switched from tourist to child. From giant room we went to a virtual tour of Old Trafford where hitting a button gives you the lowdown on a section of the stadium such as dressing room, tunnel, dugout, directors box, actual field (Did you know there are 35 kms of hot water pipes under the field to keep it warm and playable in the winter!!!).
From the tour, one walks past a giant wall of memorabilia, from times gone by right up to present day, like medals, tickets, player jerseys and the likes. Giant screens in the background continue to show images and videos of Man Utd greatest victories, 1999 Champions League, 2008 champions league, Ryan Giggs super goal against Arsenal for the FA Cup, the list is endless because Manchester United is the best club ever.
You then enter the training zone, where you test your skills such as dribbling, passing, goalkeeping, shooting and awareness in closed funky rooms with your video telecast on a giant screen outside for your friends to see. Between Nayana and me we had 16 game tickets. Hence, Nayana played 1 game (goalkeeping) and I played 15. Like I said, I was a child in there and adults indulge children. There is an identification system there so if you go to Macau this month, Nayana has the top score @ awareness, goalkeeping and passing.
After getting really sweaty in the training zone, you enter a life size replica of the mens dressing room and can sit on the seat of your favorite player. Both of us sat with Rooney. A virtual Sir Alex then comes out and gives you a team talk about Man Utd and what it is all about. Then you walk past a tv room where there is a replica of the champions league trophy which you can get photographed with.
And now the piece de resistance. You line up in the tunnel and all the players come out and line up next to you on a giant wall screen. Full size, and talking to each other. Then the doors open and you run onto the pitch at Old Trafford with the team to the sound and sight of fans making a deafening roar cheering you on. Its a huge room with an artificial pitch and all the walls are videos of fans cheering.
If I was to design heaven, it would look like this. If Nayana was to design heaven, it would look like the shops outside (Grand Canal shoppes at the venetian are unbelievable). Jointly, Level 3 at the Venetian could be heaven. It even has the perpetual blue skies and blue canals.
Story is Fin.
Abruptness is a necessity when writing Tarantino type stories.
Come on, you knew I couldn’t leave it like that. It has to tie up in the end.
Story D: H1N1, Paranoia and the return of Da Laoban
You cant end a story that starts in Shanghai without coming back to Shanghai. This is a corollary of “What happens in Macau stays in Macau”. We got seats together on the flight, which is something we will not take for granted henceforth. We were expecting the Chinese inquisition upon return, giving the present paranoia surrounding the H1N1 pandemic, which is a large scam that is justifying multiple jobs in WHO, CNN, BBC, CDC and bunnyman suit manufacturers. H1N1 has killed under 100 people in USA. Regular flu kills 36,000 annually. Should we all walk around in bubbles now? On a related note, isn’t everyone getting to scared of bacteria these days? This is the bottomline (or as Prez Obama would say in his rich baritone whilst drawing an imaginary line with his right hand, Now Let me be clear) – Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. We need to drink some dirty water, eat some dirty food and breathe some dirty air on a regular basis, otherwise we will become bubble people, incapable of living outside our bubbles. Living in a bubble or a paradise island is ok if you are Gilligan or the guy who won the australia tour guide contest, but not if you live in/visit regular cities with their own dirty water, food and air. Immunity will go away if you don’t make it work. If you disagree, pray tell us why Indians dont get sick when they go to phoren lands and why many phoren people get sick when they come to India? If only everyone was as natural (this is called un-hygienic in new age paranoia speak) as we used to be, things would be ok.
Anyways, back to our in-flight status. Somewhere midway we were handed an extra form to fill out in addition to the usual arrival form. I have to, just have to say this here. In case somebody knows somebody in the USA homeland security bureau please send them this message. Somebody visiting your country is a visitor. Somebody who belongs to your country is a resident. 90 % of the worlds countries think this way and print forms this way. When you print the forms, why do you spell “visitor” as “ALIEN”. I thought that aliens were the big weird things that Signourney Weaver screamed at, fired flames at and finally gave birth to. Why isnt that movie called “Visitors”?
American dictionaries are now saying alien means person who owes allegiance to another government.
Alas, George Orwell was right, he who controls the present controls the past. He who controls the past, controls the future. However, some digging reveals that what “alien” used to mean before is “differing in nature or character typically to the point of incompatibility” . Do americans really differ with everyone to the point of “incompatibility?” I think they are ok fellows. Quite a few americans think I am an ok fellow as well. Then why do the grammatically challenged folks at Homeland security insist on the alien thing. Nobody likes being called an alien if they don’t have superpowers, a spaceship or at least green giant coneheads.
So, where was I, ah yes – the in-flight special bonus entertainment. On landing, everyone was ordered to sit tight and very soon 5 bunnymen (actually 1 was a bunny woman) entered the aircraft. Bunny man 1 (BM1) had a gun which looked like the one used by the visitor from outer space in “The Predator”. It put 4 equally spaced red dots on the head of the person it was pointed at. Apart from terrifying said person, it also measured temperature. If BM1 was satisfied that you were not a H1N1 person, he would walk past to point his gun at the next passenger. If not, he would simply gesture to BW (no number because she was the only bunnywoman) and she would then put a device into the mouth of the now genuinely terrified person. If she was unsatisfied, BM2 would be called in. BM2 was carrying a large supply of regular thermometers and this would be placed under tongue. This was really your last shot at not being hauled away by Team BM. (I think BM 3 and 4 were backup to keep any visitors/aliens in check. I think they had laser guns too)
Nayana and I used all the mind-control and yoga skills that we have to bring our body temperature down. Yes, we know we have none, but in China, everyone thinks all Indians can a) Sing and dance at the drop of a hat b)Write awesome software and c)Do awesome yoga. So when in China, we can do a), b) and c).
Luckily, BM1 pointed his gun at both of us and determined that we were, in fact, cool. Others were not so fortunate though, one xiaojie sitting next to da laoban was identified as worthy of the highest level of temperature test. If she didnt have fever by then, she would develop it out of fear. Da Laoban looked part worried and part hopeful. Perhaps the missus was on her way to pick him up at the airport. How convenient this would be. Alas (for da laoban), xiaojie passed her test. A couple of other folks did not though and were hauled away by Team Bunny for further testing. Mob mentality is fairly global, I must say. In a manner not different from 1st standard students laughing at the poor boy who pee’ed his pants because the teacher shouted at him, folks on the airplane now viewed the two unfortunate haul-aways with much distaste and fear. Apart from throwing rocks and rotten tomatoes, the 2 dudes were given the treatment for sure.
We then de-planed and headed home. Macao, Man United, Mosaic and men in bunnysuits – Jai Ho!!
Posted by yossarian13 
