One of the perks of foraying into minor rockstardom (also known as foreign monkey hood) in China, as I mentioned previously, is that you often get paid good money, and sometimes get to travel for free, essential for agreeing to make a fool of yourself in public. If you are young and have very few responsibilities, this can be a great thing indeed. In Kunming, many of these dalliances with fame were arranged by a good friend of mine, a Chinese guy by the name of Wild Swan. I met Wild Swan when I was new to Kunming and he could often be found hanging around certain bars and clubs, usually with a woman or two in tow, often drunk, and almost always up to no good. Wild Swan was a rare breed indeed. He had long, black hair, and a round, open face that could alternately look childishly playful or deadly serious to suit his needs. Chinese people often described him of having a “thick face,” which means, basically, that he didn’t care what anyone else thought of him, he was who he was, and we were all free take it or leave it. He had a sharp tongue and a wit that people hated to love, and constantly walked a fine line between provoking people’s laugher and getting the snot beat out of him, sometimes ending up on the more unpleasant side of that line. He was a skilled drummer, but so far had not managed to amass any great fortune or fame through his talent, although he was a fixture on the Kunming music scene and often responsible for arranging gigs for himself, various Chinese bands, and foreign monkeys.

Photo: edans

Wild Swan and I had, despite my initial reluctance (in fact, as many do, I found him rather distasteful when I first met him), formed a firm friendship by the time I had been in Kunming for a few years, and although I am rather devoid of any marketable talents (at least none that belong on a stage), he would keep me in mind for gigs that simply required a foreign presence. Once, I played the maracas, once the tambourine, and once I simply got on stage and looked foreign. This time Wild Swan had arranged with a local wine company, Yunnan Red, for a group of foreigners to perform in the city of Mile, at the local Wine Festival. The group was to be large, and was to accompany a Chinese band, Wild Swan’s own band, and, for the most part, simply sit there and look pretty. We would be paid 200RMB for our troubles, but more importantly, we’d get a free trip down to Mile and would take part in the Wine Festival itself, which would include a tour of the vineyards, the wine factory, a free stay on the premises overnight, and of course, lots and lots of wine. Certainly, I did not need a whole lot of convincing. Also joining us was the late, great, Bike Mike, who was a skilled trombone player, a legend in Kunming, and who years later, tragically passed away in an rafting accident in rapids, M, a Canadian man of long standing in Kunming with mad harmonica skills, several hippies, an Italian or three (Kunming Italians are always, without fail, up for any party), and probably more. Needless to say, it was a ragtag bunch, and only a very few had any musical inclination whatsoever, but that didn’t matter, we were a band, we were going on the road, and Mile would soon feel our presence.

Photo: Apenas imagens - Marília Almeida

On the appointed weekend we all piled into a bus and headed out for Mile, which is about a 4-hour drive from Kunming (if my memory serves). Immediately when we hit the highway the Italians among us started rolling joints, much to the shock of the Chinese band (with the notable exception of Wild Swan, who had already strategically positioned himself next to the Italians), who did not expect the pot smoking to perhaps, be so blatant, or perhaps to have started so soon. A discussion ensued as to whether this was a Good Idea or not, this pot smoking on the bus, and the Chinese band reached a consensus – only on the highway, only with the windows open, and put it out if you see a cop. Things were off to a great start….

Check back for part 2 of this story next week!

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