カラオケ? OK!

I went to Karaoke today! Guan Chen called me up and I met him at the back gate, two Korean classmates and a Korean classmate's boyfriend in tow. Guan Chen for his part had with him two of his friends - girls from his old middle-school who were undergraduates in Harbin.

Slightly odd Polish classmate missed out because he was at the 班长会 - class representative meeting - where he was meant to be airing my grievances about our Culture teacher, but we passed him as we left the University.

"Come with! We're going to Karaoke!"

He looked less than convinced and excused himself saying that he had to write an essay - part of his University requirements back in Poland.

First though, fuel for the singing. Guan Chen took us to what is alleged to be the grandest, most historic barbecue shop in town, in 道外 (Dao Wai) district, a good 15-20 minutes taxi ride across town - suitably in keeping with the Chinese culinary tradition of going well out of one's way to eat well.

This is it. The sign says 大全烧烤 which literally means "Big Everything Barbecue". I'm not sure if the first two words are a compound (Complete-Collection Barbecue) or if the "Everything" refers to the Barbecue (Big Everything-Is-Barbecued) but in any case, the menu was a multi-page monstrosity comprehensively listing a veritable zoo of animals and animal parts for roasting.

We opted for a 包房 - a private room - which entailed a 300RMB (£20) total minimum figuring that this would be no problem for seven growling stomachs.

This was the first dish, barbecued spare rib, which was noticeable superior to the average street-side hawker stall's - meatier, with more refined spices, and cooked just so. We also had Brazilian-style barbecued pork, carved off giant metal skewers; whole chicken wings which were turkey-sized; and a dozen other selections, but by the time they arrived I was engrossed in eating and my camera sat in my pocket, forgotten. For the entire meal, I sat grinning inanely, sauce reddening both corners of my mouth, as a pile of discarded skewers steadily grew in front of me.

Guan Chen's two friends were third-year students called 张权 (Zhang Quan) and 常秀丽 (Chang Xiu Li) originally from Liaoning and Shanxi, respectively. Xiu Li was chatty and friendly, in the overly keen manner of someone a bit too excited at meeting outsiders for the first time. Quan in contrast was standoffish and boy-ish which I found hilarious, especially when she belched loudly and unashamedly twice.

After lunch, we jumped back into taxis and went to a branch of the optimistically-named 好乐迪 (Haoledi, literally Good-Happy-Enlighten) a national chain of Karaoke clubs - just off Central Street. Typically for the more upmarket joints, this had all the (faux-)marble, elaborate staircases, and over-dressed waiters that you could ever want, and we went up to our 包房 after some apparent haggling at the front desk by Guan Chen.

As a quick cultural aside, a Karaoke club in China can be a dodgy place. The impression I got in decadent Shanghai was that there was a definite difference between 'KTV' and 'Karaoke', with the former implying scantily-dressed ladies offering negotiable services, while the latter offered legitimate entertainment for aspirational singers. Up North though, the former simply seems to imply private rooms for groups of friends, while the latter suggests singing, willy-nilly, in front of a whole restaurant or bar.

Things got off to a dodgy start with Quan and Guan Chen delivering a shaky rendition of the difficult 千里之外 (by Jay Chou and Fei Yi Qing) before a much stronger 安静 (also by Jay Chou). En Xi and Rong Shu proved their singing chops belting out a couple of old Korean hits, before I took on Unchained Melody in a solo effort. Disappointingly, despite the extensive song list, the system only had Gareth Gates' inferior version. I did my heartfelt best though, even inspiring Rong Shu to slap at her boyfriend (in her best imitation of the heroine from My Sassy Girl) and scold him for not singing her a love-song.

The time flew by and we tumbled out after 8pm, light-headed from exertion. Even Quan was smiling by now, and the seven of us walked down Central Street suddenly hungry. The French Bakery, which I had somehow missed on my first trip, was a disappointment - a handful of uninspired pastries despite the extensive drinks list - so we settled for McDonald's instead, right at the Northern end of Central Street near the river.

Guan Chen continued teaching even as I sucked down a welcome chocolate milkshake - 砢碜, slang for ugly; 兼职, another job (i.e. apart from your main job or studying) - and I kicked myself again that I was doing such a bad job of getting a decent flatmate, before we parted ways an hour later, promising to play pool next time.