Saturday, 12 October 2013

13.10 - Moktoberfest. With a side of Fatboy.



Moktoberfest, with a side of Fatboy.

A joke for which the whole of this post is the punchline…Some Chinese, a bunch of white westerners and a genuine German oompah band walked into a mock beerhall constructed on top of a swimming pool a couple of kilometres from communist China…

Everything about Macau’s casinos and the hotels/entertainment industry attached to them is breathtakingly ridiculous. You sometimes feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a post-apocalyptic movie, where the society that has emerged is obsesses with hyperconsumption and hedonism. If you’ve not read my posts on our trip to Macau, I would (clearly!) recommend them…

So we did have some idea what we might be experiencing when we booked into the Sheraton Macau Oktoberfest party as a warm up to seeing Fatboy Slim live next door. And so, I was not that surprised to see that they had constructed a mock-rustic wooden stage and a faux beer hall, complete with sturdy stomp-proof long benches and tables, and shipped in a 7-piece Bavarian band complete with four German ‘Beer wenches’. What we were not prepared for was how hilarious this unlikely clash of cultures would be.

Some quick caveats…the revelries of Oktoberfest beer parties are unusual. There is no reason everyone should know how they work. Imagine a ceilidh, but the dances are all based around staying at your tables, and involve (benignly enforced) beer quaffing. The key is – everyone participates. However, there is no reason mainland, HK and Macanese Chinese should know this; and there were zero explanations or translations for them.

BUT. The band - its banter and silliness well-honed, their musical skills excellent – and supporting wenches could have done no more to get across that everyone needs to copy what they do, and join in. Until the very last hour, when the beer finally broke the dam, the only table out of 900 people to dance, shout responses to the band, raise glasses etc was our small enclave of 8…see video.

The baffled Chinese tucked with relish into the German food on hand, and clapped politely when the songs ended. This caused us endless merriment, and made us friends for life in the desperate beer wenches, who kept joining our table when their efforts failed. Some particularly good lost in translation moments:

-          Beer wenches jump on a table full of Chinese and gesture them to copy. They respectfully back off to one end of the table, thinking this is a show, not an invite to dance, and take photos.

-          Beer wenches approach another table, and its inhabitants get up en masse, and flee.

-          In response to pleas for everyone to stand and raise their glass when a certain word is shouted, the only table bar ours to respond remains seated and raises their knives in unison, like some weird salute.

-          A small Chinese lady joins our table, as it’s close to the stage, to take photos; and when we all stand and start to dance as one, she visibly flinches, clutching her camera to her chest, before half-falling off the bench in an effort to get away.

On the flipside, we were hilarious to everyone else in the room. As they had no reason to know how this was meant to work, they – understandably – thought we were the crazy ones. Openly pointing and belly laughing, small groups gathered to take photos of us (from a safe distance). You could fully understand why. We looked preposterous wiggling and shouting on our own. Look at the crazy gweilos – why are they standing and swaying about like that? All this stamping, shouting, jumping on benches…don’t they see how embarrassing they are? Why aren’t they just watching the show like everyone else? Must be drunk already, look at their huge beer glasses [few tables got the 2-litre steins bars us]! And why is that one ripping up the table cloth? Oh no, that one’s seen me watching and is coming over gesturing for me to dance, quick run away!

And to cap off the surreality of the evening, we promptly decamped to a huge club next door, and at around 2am found ourselves watching Fatboy Slim live, from about 10 yards distant, with only marginally more people than were at the Oktoberfest party…


 

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