CLARK WONG ventures up the red-carpeted stairs to Shenzhen's House Disco, past girls with free cigarettes on trays, and into the booming vortex of his very first rave. A woman in lime-green Versace stretch pants, matching putrid shirt and orange sunglasses slides past him as he pauses to take in the scene. The bass seems to reach inside his ribcage and take over his heartbeat. The dance floor is already packed. Strange-looking people lean out from the horseshoe-shaped balcony that fans overhead. A blue-and-yellow neon sign blinks '555' behind military-style security.
On stage, a living Barbie doll in red sequinned flares, cropped top and blonde ponytail punches the air and gyrates her hips while a muscled black dancer throws himself at her feet.
Among the 3,000 party-goers are about 40 Westerners, mostly expats from Hong Kong. These are dedicated clubbers who mingle in the lobby, bumming cigarettes and beers from each other ('Ta, me luvvy duvvy dub'). In his home town, Clark is feeling a little out of place. 'There are so many people dressed so weird,' he says, clutching his $35 beer, one of the most expensive in Shenzhen. 'The people who normally come here don't dress like this. And there are so many Westerners. I've never seen so many Westerners come to this country for fun. That is strange. I can hardly believe they crossed the border just to party.' Clark's Chinese name, Xuejun, may translate as 'Learning from the People's Liberation Army', but that doesn't mean that he and his peers are not willing to pick up a few moves from some of the world's foremost DJs. And here they are, boogeying down to the latest London techno, played live in a Shenzhen nightclub once used as a cultural hall for PLA soldiers.
Clark is not the only one experiencing culture shock. 'This is the weirdest dance party I've ever been to,' says Briton Janine McDonald, grinning in amazement at the stern-faced Chinese guards dressed in official-looking uniforms who barely blink atop podiums overlooking the ravers. 'I've never had a man dressed like a soldier haul me off the dance floor for holding a cigarette.' This is the second dance party held by British 'superclub' Ministry of Sound on its first tour of China, heralded by its organisers as a milestone in the history of dance. 'It's the start of rave culture in China,' enthuses Jo Brooks-Nevin, promotions manager for Arena, the Hong Kong company which organised the tour. More insidiously, it is also the unofficial launch of a new image for tobacco company BAT's 'old man's brand' 555, which is sponsoring the tour. The 555 logo is entwined with the Ministry's on caps and T-shirts, and on free CD samplers, which BAT planned to hand out at local bars.
THE MINISTRY styles itself as a dance club on a crusade. Most of its DJs and staff members spent their early years struggling to promote dance culture with the fervour of religious zealots. Whether it was giving out flyers on grimy streets outside clubs or circling the M25, London's orbital motorway, dodging police while searching for an underground rave venue - they have done the dirty work and now tour the world promoting clubbing with multimillion-dollar budgets.
Crews of DJs are bringing a rave new world to crowds of up to 40,000, not just in China but also in other unlikely places such as Nigeria, the Philippines, Vietnam and even Bangladesh. 'When the club scene first broke in the UK, there was a huge energy because it was so unique,' says the Ministry's head of tours, Maria Walker. 'The same thing happens in these places because people haven't heard this kind of music before. At first we didn't know how to approach it, but the DJs have played the same set they would play at home and people love it. If this tour works then there are going to be a lot more gigs in China next year.' The music is not new to young groovers on the mainland. In Shanghai, a dance scene has been slowly developing over the past few years with several funky clubs whose managers regularly visit Hong Kong for music or import from the United States. But it is the first tour by the Ministry of Sound, which began planning 18 months ago to tap into the growing Asian dance market.
