Diary of a Singer
Arrived in China in the glorious city of Suifenhe (SFH) Suifenhe - September 7th.
September 7th.
In our city of Vladivostok, June and July are usually cold, the heat comes only in August to last until October, and sometimes even until November. However, this year things were different.
If on September 6 it was still insanely hot, then on the seventh it became sharply colder. And I set off, Vladivostok-Suifenhe, dressed in summer. Oh, how wrong I was! And I realized this mistake already in the village of Pogranichny at the fourth hour of the journey. From warm I had with me: two blouses with long sleeves and I put both on myself, trying to keep warm. Did not help! I was extremely cold and my throat began to ache.
The bags contained concert costumes, some other change, and a laptop. But that was enough for me. My hands were pulled oh-she-she! No one met me at the border (although they promised), it’s good that I had the business card of the Troika restaurant with me. I slipped it to one of the taxi drivers, and he agreed to take me to the Troika towers, as much as ... for a hundred rubles. Which translated into Chinese meant 20 yuan. Of course I knew I was being fooled. Trips to SFS cost 5 yuan, but there was no strength to argue with the taxi driver. I wanted a shower, a hot dinner, a hearty meeting, well ... and what else is there? Can I watch TV with Chinese channels while lying on the couch?! Oh, female innocence. Of all the above, there was only lunch. They didn't skimp on food at Troika. A dish of rice and huge chunks of meat was placed in front of me. And then they sent to prepare for the performance. There was no question of any rest! After a quick wash and pulling out my crumpled suits, I went to get ready for the performance. When I took the microphone, my hands were shaking, not from excitement, but from fatigue. To a reasonable question why they didn’t meet me, the high authorities made round eyes and somehow, I don’t remember how, laughed it off!
The discs with the backing tracks, which I brought with me, did not want to be played at the music center of the local type. When I suggested using someone else's laptop instead of a music center, everyone abruptly looked down and let me know that my performance was my problem! And everyone has laptops for work and are full of personal and secret information.
One was planned for me: two art directors, a hall administrator (one) and two translators. Dealing with musical equipment was even worse than at my previous job. I had to bring my laptop and carry it to banquets for several days until it broke safely. After that, with great efforts, they recorded a new disc with backing tracks, which, however, also had a habit of jamming at the most crucial moment.
September 14
Today marks a week since I arrived here. This way is to Suifenhe city;;; Suifenhe is a small Chinese border town. I even breathe easier, and I got used to it a little. But only a little. It is especially difficult after talking on the phone with relatives. I want to talk and talk, despite the fact that the connection here is quite expensive. I work in the center of Slavic culture "Troika". This is a small world, a small tower inhabited by a small group of Russian people. A small Russian settlement in the middle of an indifferent Chinese city. Cities where you are a person only when (and if) you have money. This week has been endless. Today the laptop broke down. No TV, no books, no internet, no, now, a laptop. The Russian court "Troika" is a small sleepy state, which comes to life only at the moment when the news arrives on the phone that the Chinese have ordered another banquet. And where there is a banquet, there is a performance by Russian artists, and, among them, mine. I arrived on Tuesday, and all week, every day, there were several banquets.
Part two:
Scene:
Democratic Republic Of China,
Suifenhe City, Heilongjiang Province. The nearest big city is Mudanjiang. It is located 3 hours drive from Sfh. The provincial capital of Hailongjian is Harbin.
Russian court "Troika" is located almost on the outskirts of Sfh. It is surrounded by solid gates, it contains a building called a tower, as well as three buildings intended for the recreation of Chinese and Russian guests. The building called “Honey-beer”, where the main banquets take place, the “Moroz” building, where it is planned to open a nightclub, and the “Shinok” building, decorated in Ukrainian style. Everything is built very soundly, believable and with love. Chinese newlyweds are photographed against the backdrop of the tower and other attractions.
Characters:
I am a forty-year-old adventurer with a folk voice, a little acting talent (only when it comes to songs) and an insatiable thirst for new things.
High authorities: Chief No. 1. A leading person from Vladivostok, occasionally, with dressing and inspection, running into Troika. Her wife (whom I never saw, but heard when she was angry and gave orders over Skype, during the morning meetings). Boss #2 is a leader who is related to Boss #1, but inunlike the first, who lives almost all the time on the territory of the Troika, and only occasionally leaves home so that his wife does not forget.
Lower bosses:
Art Director #1 (meet me tensely as I was destined to be her roommate)
Administrator of "Med-beer"
Art director No. 2 (was absent at the time of my arrival)
Translators:
Lyosha is Chinese.
Russian translator Inna
Kitchen workers:
Chef (I don’t remember her face, since she left on the second day of my stay in SFS)
Petr the cook
Alena the baker
Tanya is an accountant, Chinese
Service staff:
Two Chinese women (I think their names were Vera and Lena) were dishwashers. Uncle Misha is a Chinese janitor and a jack of all trades.
And finally, a star! Dancer and pylonist Olesya!!! Insanely talented and insanely vulnerable, however, like all real artists. If anyone does not know, then the pylon is a large iron stick where acrobats like Olesya climb and where they do incredible things. This art is closer to the circus than to the striptease.
As in any self-respecting state, wars take place here. Fortunately, civilians, among themselves! The baker Alena passionately hates the cook Peter, the same ardent, so to speak, love, the pilonist Olesya has for the authorities. Conflicts are discussed and sucked from all sides and immediately become public knowledge. No one hides their emotions, does not hide anything and does not keep it in themselves!
The first two days I lived in a room with art director Lana. The bed was a bare board with legs, but no mattress. I bought the bed myself. The room was dark and cold. On the second night, I was so cold that I had to put on all the warm clothes available, we are talking about the two sweaters I have already mentioned. I was cold, uncomfortable and hurt. But I was offended, first of all, at myself, at my stupid head, which once again brought me to God knows where. The good woman Alena lived in the next room. Alena baked magnificent dough products and was a match for her profession, kind and warm. I went over to her, not having lived even two days with Lana. Alena had another undoubted advantage, she had a fan in the form of a heater. Or rather, a heater in the form of a fan, which barely warmed, but still warmed. In general, I went to Alena's room. The senior management expressed surprise. What am I? Artists must live with their own kind! But when I make a decision, I can’t be moved from it by a train! I moved into another room and life became bearable. Between performances, I was free and could be anywhere. To keep warm, I wandered the streets of the city and persuaded myself to be patient. I was informed about the upcoming banquet by phone.
SFH is a city - a market, so we wandered around this market with Alena the day before yesterday for almost the whole day. And last night we looked at the central square to watch the old men and women dance their evening dance with fans.
September 15th
Last night, when we, shivering and shaking, crawled under the covers, warmed up and even started to fall asleep, they called from Med-beer, the place where the banquets were held, and asked me to put myself in order and go down to banqueting hall. The fact is that a delegation (or representatives of the delegation) from Beijing came to Med-Beer and asked me to sing for them. That is, as it were, passed the test for prof. suitability in the Chinese sense. Teeth chattering, I quickly got dressed and went downstairs. I was even offered to sing without a concert costume, but I can’t do that, art must be art. I was ready to sing in about five minutes, but the music center, unfortunately, was not. As soon as I started to sing, the music center immediately began to blurt out the music, I only managed to sing a verse. And so I made four attempts. She began to sing different songs and immediately fell silent due to the tricks of the music center. The Chinese at the table were already laughing out loud. A bunch of my bosses and the administrator stood pale, but could not do anything. The Chinese manager was already out of his mind and begged me to sing at least one song to the end. As if it depended on me! First he asked to sing "Moscow Evenings", then "Katyusha", then at least something, well, at least something, because the head of the delegation was already sitting gloomy as a cloud. I looked at all this disgrace and decided to take the initiative into my own hands. She took the microphone again, ordered the center to be turned off, and sang unaccompanied. I sang "Moscow Evenings" and "Katyusha" adored by the Chinese, and a few more songs. True, all this is in a verse, after all, without accompaniment, it is a little uncomfortable to sing, and the audience, in my opinion, is not very interesting. I mean singing without accompaniment. The Chinese applauded enthusiastically and seemed pleased, while the Russians breathed a sigh of relief. Condescendingly patted the administrator on the shoulder, the Chinese left, promising to come tomorrow. In parting, I was given the task of preparing a more modern song, something from the repertoire of Vitas, adored by the Chinese. Well, tomorrow we will wait for distinguished guests.
16 of September
As I suspected, the distinguished guests did not show up. Apparently Russian hospitality is not very goodsomething deceived them. In the meantime, I thought with horror about what to do next. The cough, which began to choke me from the second day of arrival, pestered me more and more. It became very hard to sing. I sing a song and do my best not to cough. I flirt with the Chinese while singing, and in my mind I count the lines of the song that I have left to sing. And I also came up with a ritual for the end of the show program for the song "Passage". So I spend this farewell ritual, and I try to disguise the cough with laughter. Horror. Not only can I sing, I can't speak. The cough is choking. I turned to the authorities, then they redirected me to Lyosha the translator. Lyosha took me to the pharmacy. I bought medicine. Does not help. When I announced that I couldn’t sing at all, they sent me to a military hospital, on a drip. I did the dropper twice, the third time I won’t go. This drip is very painful. It is made not in the bend of the elbow, as we have in Russia, but in the hand. It became easier for me and I was drawn to exploits again. Lyosha the interpreter was about to go to the police to issue temporary registration for all of us, I asked for it, I really wanted to see the Chinese police station. Hooray, the dropper helped! There was a concert in the evening, and I hardly coughed. It was the first concert when I sang without coughing.
September 17
The day started with trouble. They turned off the water and electricity. I went to do exercises with the Chinese grandmothers, and after the exercises, Alena and I went to the apartment where our Russian girls live, to wash. I washed first, when Alena's turn came, she did not have enough water. She bathed in lukewarm water. When we returned to Terem, it was windy. Half an hour later Alena had a fever. Looking at Alena, I coughed and could not stop. In the next room, administrator Lana was tormented. It turns out that she became ill at night. Her stomach was so upset that she was taken to the doctor unconscious. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Rimma, art director No. 2, who just returned from a short vacation in the morning, was at a loss. Three patients at the same time is too much. Getting into the car with Lyosha, we first went to the hospital where they gave me a drip, but on the way Lana lost consciousness again and all her strength was thrown at bringing Lana back to consciousness. Lyosha carried Lana in his arms. At the first hospital, we were told that there was a suspicion that the girl had appendicitis and they sent us to another hospital, where they have diagnostic equipment. We again loaded into a taxi and drove to the city hospital. Everyone forgot about Alena, who was flaming with fever, and my cough, out of fear for Lana, suddenly disappeared. Wandering through the cold corridors of the city hospital, behind Lyosha, purple from exertion (he carried Lana in his arms), I thought: “So autumn has come!”
It was cold in the hospital, drafts were walking along the corridors. Representatives of the medical staff were running past, and everyone did not care deeply about Lyosha, who carried Lana with all his might. Having seated his burden on the bench and placed us there, the compassionate Chinese disappeared into the doctor's office. Alena was on fire, I was coughing non-stop, Lana was sitting unconscious, propped up by our bodies on both sides. Visitors to the hospital looked in our direction with curiosity, not at all embarrassed and not averting their eyes. I had to growl at some particularly curious Chinese, only then they left us alone. Finally, Lyosha appeared, followed by a nurse with a wheelchair. Lana was still unconscious, and getting her into the wheelchair was a pain in the ass. When a girl was given a tomogram and an X-ray, she had to be taken out of the wheelchair, and even when they ordered her to take a urine test, I decided that this was a refined form of mockery. Well, how can you explain to a girl who is passed out that she needs to take an analysis, and not just an analysis, but a urine test ?! Thank God that the tomogram had to be done lying down, but in the X-ray room we were told to hold it upright. Alena and I, whose face was already as red as beets, again took our places on the left and right. The radiologist dug, Lana fell, we tried to hold her, and the wind blew on her legs, subtly hinting at a sharp cold snap. I lied, the gurney was rolled up only after the unfortunate girl passed all the tests, and the doctor made a conclusion. She went on a drip like a queen. The only pity is that she hardly remembers this moment of triumph. Laying Lana on the bed, we finally caught our breath and looked around. In the next ward, separated from us by a screen, an old woman was lying under a drip, surrounded by all her relatives. This is how it is done in China. No matter how much an elderly person lies under a dropper, a daughter, granddaughter or grandson will patiently sit next to him. Grandma cheerfully cracked her tongue, her daughter or granddaughter knitted, the rest of the relatives were talking with might and main. Our room was quiet, but smoky. Next to Lana's bunk lay a young man with a broken leg, smoking like a chimney. They barely shouted at the nurses and forced a comrade with a fracture to put down his cigarette. The administrator from "Honey-beer" called and in a panic said that three banquets were coming in a row, and Alena's loaves were over, and in general, life is a disgusting thing when youLight on and no water. It got colder outside, and it began to rain. Leaving Lana with Lyosha, we went to the place that we temporarily considered our home and where, after visiting the hospital, it was even impossible to wash our hands. Good thing I had a large supply of sanitary napkins. Having reached our native penates, we found that all the activities had already ended, and went shopping. The best treatment for fever and cough is shopping. Especially when the room you live in is colder than outside. There was still no water in our room, and we decided to go to some cafe to solve our hygiene problems. On the way we found a Kfc cafe. A cute cafe that can be found in any city in China. When the problems were solved, we decided to enjoy ice cream. We warmed up and relaxed so much that I forgot my wallet with 200 yuan. The money was not so hot, but it was my money, and they were dear to me. I wanted to top up my account on a Chinese SIM card, went into a mobile phone shop and found that my hands were suspiciously easy. There was no wallet, and we had already reached the Xushen Hotel. Not hoping for anything, I ran back to the cafe. At the table where I was sitting, of course, there was no wallet. Hanging my head, I went to the counter where orders were taken, but, to my surprise, the wallet was immediately given away, having previously specified its shape and color. I write at night before bed. There is still no light, daylight is also gone, so I’m finishing writing. September 20
The day before yesterday, for the first time, I saw a company of Chinese who behaved ... They behaved like Russians who had pretty much gone too far! A long-haired Chinese man, very similar to an Indian from old adventure films, swaggered and spoke in pure Russian, by the way, and he spoke Russian quite well! But, the information that he was not going to pay for the banquet, the Chinese gave the translator Inna in Chinese. The reason for such a statement was that here, in Troika, the food is too expensive, but for some reason the Chinese discovered this unfortunate circumstance only after the banquet. Dramatic events ended with a humorous finale, when Lyosha's translator rushed in and settled everything. However, looking at this Chinese-Indian was rather disgusting.
Now yesterday, what happened yesterday? Ah, I remembered! Yesterday Lyosha brought to our attention that a serious audience is expected from Beijing. I did not quite understand why his voice was so ringing and trembling. Well, the Chinese understand Russian well, well, they speak without an accent, well, they came from Beijing itself, so what? It turns out that the people who were supposed to attend the banquet were known all over the country and were repeatedly filmed on China's national television. I learned this not from Lyosha, but from my Chinese friend Vasya from Beijing, when I described the situation to him on the Internet. Indeed, the elderly man spoke clearly and without an accent, and his companion, she was 89 years old, started dancing to the song Katyusha without any affectation. It turns out that the old lady was also called Katya, Katyusha. There was no limit to the delight and flashes of cameras! I took pictures with Katyusha, and with an elderly gentleman, and with the guests he brought from Beijing, and my hair, under a chic headdress, itched and itched insanely. In general, I, may the Chinese guests forgive me, smiled falsely into the camera lens, but in fact I dreamed of how I would throw off my headdress - a kitchka - and I would desperately scratch my unwashed head. And this is called the center of Slavic culture! And I call myself a man of art! There has been no water for days. For some reason, they turn it on only at night. And late at night. Three or four hours. I forced myself to get up at four in the morning, and finally washed my talented head, but Alena was too lazy and got up only at six. BUT THERE IS NO WATER!
September 28
Just over a week left and I can't believe I'll ever leave here and come home! Today, as always, I woke up at five in the morning (after all, it was already eight in the morning in Vladivostok) and could no longer sleep, lay quietly, afraid to wake Alena, lay and recalled the details of the concert, which was on September 26th. I prepared for it so carefully, but it turned out to be a soap bubble, and a bubble made of bad soap. I was preparing to perform in a certain place and in front of a certain audience, but it turned out ...
So, on September 26, the anniversary was to be held, either the city or the district. I am a punctual person, the concert was supposed to start at 14, I arrived at the central square of Suifenhe at 13.30. Looking at the Russian tourists and Chinese scurrying back and forth, I was worried about how they would perceive my singing. The truck with the equipment, and the car with the rest of the artists, was supposed to come almost behind me, but it didn't. Time passed, but neither the preparations for the holiday, nor my fellow artists were visible.
When no more than 10 minutes remained before time X, Inna called and informed me that there had been a mix-up. They are waiting for me in a completely different place and recommend to hurry. I was cold and was not very polite when I answered Inna,you can understand about me. Someone misunderstood something, and they offer me to run and perform at a concert with a breathless breath. Of course, I ran and, of course, then, I could not catch my breath for a long time. And as it turned out, completely in vain. When I arrived, the concert hadn't even started yet. It turned out that the small square where the concert was supposed to take place was very close to Troika. There were only Chinese among the spectators, which is not at all surprising, because Russians do not go here!!! Looking at the sea of ;;black heads, I realized that I had chosen the wrong repertoire. The idea of ;;baking, which poor Alena was forced to bake, turned out to be just as wrong. She had been baking various muffins since six o'clock in the morning, and now, dressed in a Russian costume, she was standing next to her muffin and trying to sell it. We only bought one plush. The Chinese don't eat that kind of food. I can only say one thing about the concert: I didn't like anything. I didn't like the way I sang, I didn't like the way they listened to me. Although the high authorities responded favorably to the concert. It was necessary to choose songs that the Chinese know, but I thought that the audience would be mixed, Russian-Chinese. I even managed to give an interview to local TV. It was something! The speakers made such incredible sounds that it was probably heard in Mudanjiang !!! At least I didn't hear myself. When I was called during my run to the screen, a girl with a microphone and a man with a camera stepped in my way, they asked me to give an interview.
The correspondent girl tried to ask me something three times, and I honestly tried to answer something three times!!! But as soon as I moved closer to the Chinese girl, in order to still hear at least something, the guy with the camera ordered me to move away with a gesture, otherwise the microphones would begin to flicker terribly. And so it was all three times. Finally, I got tired of all this, and I decided to take the initiative and suffered a gag that was hardly related to the questions of the correspondent. I spoke with inspiration about myself, about my attitude to the city of Suifenhe, about the audience that came to this concert. Then suddenly the music stopped for a while, and the girl was still able to ask me one specific question. When she learned that I had come from Vladivostok, she smiled benevolently and let me go free.
And time was running out, before the correspondent stopped me, I moved in the direction of the screen, where my second concert costume hung, in which I intended to change clothes. However, I still had time to change. I even managed to explain to the Chinese host a short translation of Valenka's song. When the last chords of Valenka's song were over, I returned to my own, where, for some reason, an extraordinary revival and fun reigned. The translator Inna was almost rolling on the ground with laughter. The translation of Valenka's song brought her to such a state. This is what came out of the host's translation: “Vladivostok is located somewhere in Siberia. And if a Russian girl's boots are torn, which strange Russians for some reason call felt boots, then for some reason an inspired girl will definitely run to her beloved barefoot!
The concert is over. Olesya the dancer ran home crying, complaining about her strained leg. We safely ate Alena's pastries for dinner, and Olesya returned when the good news was announced that there would be another banquet. After the concert, we, as victors, decided that we deserved a little rest and hoped that the signal "To battle", or rather, "To the banquet!", would not sound, but when it did happen, we were almost not upset. There were only 8 guests, and based on the order of the authorities, with 10 individuals, I mean guests, the concert was supposed to consist of dance, song and pylon. But back to the banquet of 8 people. So, the dance was over, I sang a song and went to the dressing room to wait for the end of the banquet. By order of the authorities, we had no right to leave the scene until the last visitor had left. Suddenly, one of the vacationers will come up with the idea to demand another song or dance. So I’m sitting in the dressing room, relaxed and tired, suddenly one of the pylonists, Nastya (new), comes in and asks me to sing one more song. To my reasonable question: “Why would it?” It was explained to me that the pylonist Olesya offended the pylonist Nastya by violating the unspoken order and climbing the pylon, although it was Nastya's turn. Nastya was not going to give in and was going to climb the pylon after Olesya, and since two numbers in a row on the pylon is a clear bust, they remembered me and asked me to dilute, that is, to sing. Shrugging my shoulders, I went to sing, marveling at the strange enthusiasm of the girls. However, everything was soon resolved and it became clear - it was a battle for money!
The fatigue from the stupid concert and Olesya's sore leg were immediately forgotten. The girls jumped on the pylon, each three or four times. Not one received a tip, but one was treated at the table, and she received more praise than the other. I felt sorry for both. One is a complete orphan, the other also had a lot of problems with his family and boyfriend. They would not swear, but act as a united front! And they ... One of them will run in and hiss: "I'll get her!", The other limps: "I'll squeeze her!" Trying to calm bothI thought about the laws of show business. If such passions boil in our small team, then what, then, is being done in the world of big show business?