Walking out of a restaurant by the lake in Beijing recently, we came across a most surreal spectacle. On a large pedestrian area - say 50 feet by 100 feet - there was a party going on. It was getting chilly, people were padded up toasty, and some techno-sounding music could be heard. It was 10 pm or so, the atrium (as it were) was well lit. People were... dancing. Neatly arranged in rows and columns, like chessmen.
In the middle I spied a middle-aged fellow leading a (relative) nubile young thing through a slow number and thought nothing of it. Then it went up tempo. Everyone went solo. The said gentleman was kinda in the middle of the first row. He stopped for a swig of something, and rejoined. He was jaunty, in a collared shirt and slacks, very dance-masterish and poofy. He danced in that insouciant way, moving only enough to show that he could groove, but not enough probably to break a sweat. Suddenly, as if by magic, he was also holding a lit cigarette. Something tells he was not exactly swigging green tea from that flask. Seniors really know their shit!
Increasingly, it became clear that he was likely the leader of the congregation. Not that anyone needed leading, because they knew every step to every song. Clearly this was a very regular evening affair, probably weekly, as we had not seen anything like that driving past the same spot a day before. It reminded me of the popularity of line dancing - yes, with boots and Stetsons - in Singapore, primarily among the Chinese.
Oh, and there was the one other thing - no one smiled, laughed or in any other way seemed to be enjoying themselves.
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