Perseverance pays off for mocha mogul
Q: Were you always involved in the cafe and bar industry?
A: I studied drama at university and was an editor at a national magazine on Peking Opera for nine years. After that, I did all kinds of things: a Chongqing hot-pot restaurant, an advertising company, selling tea, you name it. In 1997, I started selling coffee bought from a friend in Guangzhou.
Q: A small step from coffee salesman to cafe-bar owner, then?
A: I knew nothing about coffee. I learned on the job. But when I realised that I was selling beans for 20-30 yuan per kilogram and coffee went for 15-25 yuan per cup - a 1,000 yuan per kilo profit - I thought: 'What the hell am I doing?' I figured opening a bar was a sure-fire way to make money, so I bought Conti. Tons of French people used to go there until six months before I opened, when there was a huge fight. I was open for nine months and lost money the whole time.
Q: But you continued in the industry?
A: I had so little money that all I could afford was 20 square metres in Sanlitun [Beijing's bar-filled street] to sell coffee and related products. The first nine months, I didn't have a single customer. I slowly started selling other things: cigarettes, snacks, and then alcohol. Literally, all of a sudden, there were hundreds of people in the place, mostly punks and Arabs. The punks would come to see bands at a nearby club and they discovered we sold cheap booze. I let some of my earlier Arab customers put on their own music. You can still see my influence on the street: lots of bars are still playing Arabian music.
Q: Not to mention your influence on the street's pricing scheme...
A: Before I opened Rainbow's Time, nobody considered that you could open a bar in a space that small. Now, the street is flooded with tiny places selling cheap alcohol. I paid 36,000 yuan per year in rent; now, it costs 80,000 yuan a year. Beginning in 2000, the street's bar owners would meet weekly to berate me for ruining the street. That and the over-abundance of similar bars led me to get out.
Q: Your next bar, Artefacts, was demolished soon after its opening. How did that happen?
A: Looking back, I can say that I was cheated, but because the building was owned by the City Planning Department, I figured I was safe. I remember getting the call on a Friday afternoon. I went straight to the landlord's office, but he was already on a plane out of town. I planned to go back and talk to them on Monday morning, but that's when the power and water were cut, and the demolition crew turned up. By the Thursday, the entire building was gone.
Q: Has that experience made you worried about your newest venture [Souk Club, specialising in Middle Eastern food]?
A: I'm pretty happy with this place - it's just about my ideal space. And I can guarantee it won't get demolished.
