When it comes to Westerners stereotyping Asians for the way they entertain themselves, a few truisms dominate. Most notably, speaking of karaoke, an activity popular from the most basic "resorts" in the Philippines to out here in Taiwan, the Westerners do not mask their disdain. Calling the drunken butchering of so many classics something "less interesting than watching paint dry on the wall," travel guides do not hesitate to place them at an inferior status compared to the glorious emergence of Western-style bars, pubs, and dance clubs in international-oriented major Asian cities.
But after so many drunken nights spent bar-hopping and clubbing in Asia, the author has to disagree with the standard Western perspective of drawing that equal sign between "globalization in Asia" and emergence of Western-style alcoholic establishments. Often, these clusters of Western places in Asian cities are found in neighborhoods (such as Itaewon in Seoul, Sanlitun in Beijing, Roppongi in Tokyo, to name a few) where presence of embassies, multinationals, and expat residences fuels consumption for goods that are designed to remind the lonely foreigners of their homelands.
And for those outside of those neighborhoods, their reputations are decidedly spotty. Clubs, it seems, have become places where the young hope to be noticed by others for being "trendy" (an observation many Westerners also concede and then proceed to take advantage of), while bars/pubs, on the surface, appear to cater to those wanting to feel foreign in a familiar place but in essence, morph into either mini-clubs (of the sort noted above) or casual restaurants serving a cuisine more exotic and worthy of curiosity than what locals are used to having.
The author is even more convinced of this belief after wondering around Taipei looking for those quiet spots to nurse a glass of cold beer with a friend. Here it seems that social bonding role has been taken over by endless rows of quaint tea-houses and beautifully unique coffee shops, while bars have been relegated to dark alleys unknown to the uninitiated. The fact that alcohol seems to be either accompanied by eardrum-breaking pulsating music or aggressive and expensive hostess girls does not help it to become a respectable companion for the casual passerby.
Of course, that is not to say the role of alcohol itself is significantly different in Taiwan (or Asia as a whole) and the West. In both, it breaks down invisible social walls, allowing conversations and merry-making uninhibited by usual social faux pas (particularly so in a place like Japan where drinking is the only chance of ever breaking otherwise impassable barriers of social hierarchy). Social relationships are made and broken through alcohol in the same way for both East and West. Their independent development in all societies attest to alcohol's role as a universal social lubricant.
Given that alcohol itself is important in all societies, then, how did it emerge to have different methods and occasions of consumption and enjoyment? Or rather, does the Asian tendency toward shunning alcohol unless they wish for the situation to escalate to a logical or physical extreme say something about the culture here? Simply put, wherever happened to drinking in Asia just over a chat, without involving intoxication in a crazy place or as an adult-only replacement for soft drink over a meal? Is alcohol not a respectable instrument to be enjoyed by itself, for what it is?
The author does not have good answers. Historical literature in Asia are filled with stories of poets and freelance literati who gathered to drink, chat, and compose for mutual enjoyment. But it seems those traditions are no longer present. If anything, selective importation of Western club and bar scenes, ironically, may have redefined the role of alcohol in the mentality of Asia's younger generations, so that they learned to only imbibe it under the most extreme of circumstances. Western cultures of "casual drinking," from afternoon pub-chat to wine-tasting, in contrast, is only a nascent movement in Asia.
But what is certain is that perceiving alcohol as something to be enjoyed only for intoxication is a dangerous idea. It leads to a mentality bipolarity among the populace that alcohol is either a social panacea that can mask over all awkward divisions, or worse, a dangerous substance that is to be shunned by the rational and normal, only to be indulged when social pressure requires conformity or stress needs to be released. The author is sure that alcohol's creators, both in Asia and the West, would not be happy to see their nectar of delight placed on such a biased and misjudged pedestal.
But after so many drunken nights spent bar-hopping and clubbing in Asia, the author has to disagree with the standard Western perspective of drawing that equal sign between "globalization in Asia" and emergence of Western-style alcoholic establishments. Often, these clusters of Western places in Asian cities are found in neighborhoods (such as Itaewon in Seoul, Sanlitun in Beijing, Roppongi in Tokyo, to name a few) where presence of embassies, multinationals, and expat residences fuels consumption for goods that are designed to remind the lonely foreigners of their homelands.
And for those outside of those neighborhoods, their reputations are decidedly spotty. Clubs, it seems, have become places where the young hope to be noticed by others for being "trendy" (an observation many Westerners also concede and then proceed to take advantage of), while bars/pubs, on the surface, appear to cater to those wanting to feel foreign in a familiar place but in essence, morph into either mini-clubs (of the sort noted above) or casual restaurants serving a cuisine more exotic and worthy of curiosity than what locals are used to having.
The author is even more convinced of this belief after wondering around Taipei looking for those quiet spots to nurse a glass of cold beer with a friend. Here it seems that social bonding role has been taken over by endless rows of quaint tea-houses and beautifully unique coffee shops, while bars have been relegated to dark alleys unknown to the uninitiated. The fact that alcohol seems to be either accompanied by eardrum-breaking pulsating music or aggressive and expensive hostess girls does not help it to become a respectable companion for the casual passerby.
Of course, that is not to say the role of alcohol itself is significantly different in Taiwan (or Asia as a whole) and the West. In both, it breaks down invisible social walls, allowing conversations and merry-making uninhibited by usual social faux pas (particularly so in a place like Japan where drinking is the only chance of ever breaking otherwise impassable barriers of social hierarchy). Social relationships are made and broken through alcohol in the same way for both East and West. Their independent development in all societies attest to alcohol's role as a universal social lubricant.
Given that alcohol itself is important in all societies, then, how did it emerge to have different methods and occasions of consumption and enjoyment? Or rather, does the Asian tendency toward shunning alcohol unless they wish for the situation to escalate to a logical or physical extreme say something about the culture here? Simply put, wherever happened to drinking in Asia just over a chat, without involving intoxication in a crazy place or as an adult-only replacement for soft drink over a meal? Is alcohol not a respectable instrument to be enjoyed by itself, for what it is?
The author does not have good answers. Historical literature in Asia are filled with stories of poets and freelance literati who gathered to drink, chat, and compose for mutual enjoyment. But it seems those traditions are no longer present. If anything, selective importation of Western club and bar scenes, ironically, may have redefined the role of alcohol in the mentality of Asia's younger generations, so that they learned to only imbibe it under the most extreme of circumstances. Western cultures of "casual drinking," from afternoon pub-chat to wine-tasting, in contrast, is only a nascent movement in Asia.
But what is certain is that perceiving alcohol as something to be enjoyed only for intoxication is a dangerous idea. It leads to a mentality bipolarity among the populace that alcohol is either a social panacea that can mask over all awkward divisions, or worse, a dangerous substance that is to be shunned by the rational and normal, only to be indulged when social pressure requires conformity or stress needs to be released. The author is sure that alcohol's creators, both in Asia and the West, would not be happy to see their nectar of delight placed on such a biased and misjudged pedestal.
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