Tuesday, May 29, 2012

The Hike That Wasn’t a Hike




Social Etiquette Rule #1: Always Overdress. People in China, especially women, overdress for every occasion, unless they are toiling in the fields. For train travel, for work, for class (teachers and students, not societal class), for a walk down the boulevard, you will see women in fashionable clothing, mostly dresses and always in heels.

Social Faux Pas #1: I dressed for a hike. I was told it was a hike up a mountain, so I dressed accordingly: in lightweight capris, a tee-shirt and good, sturdy shoes. I’ll tell you what we actually did a few paragraphs down.

Social Etiquette Rule #2: Always bring a small but significant gift for your hostess. While she may insist that you need bring nothing, at the very least a bottle of wine or a gift of food is expected.

Social Faux Pas #2: I did not bring a gift. I had very good reason to not do so. I was given the impression that this was to be a social function of our department and, seeing as I didn’t know how many people would go or even if anybody who outranks Ms. C. professionally would be going along, I reasoned no gifts were necessary.

Social Etiquette Rule #3: Always Agree. Once invited, you must realize that the whole occasion is planned to impress and please you. Lavishing compliments is the norm, whether you feel like you’re in over your head or not. (What do I mean by that? You’ll find out.) You, the guest, should enthusiastically agree to anything that is suggested because the entire outing was planned around what you presumably like or want.

Social Faux Pas #3: When taken to a very fancy restaurant prior to what I presumed was going to be a hike, Ms. C. declared that she had chosen that restaurant for us to lunch at so I could eat Western food that, surely, I must be longing for. Although everything looked and smelled wonderful, I completely forgot my manners and told her I actually prefer eating Chinese food. We went to an equally lavish restaurant next door, where a wedding was taking place, to eat Chinese food. We did not crash the wedding. We lunched in a private dining room on the second floor.

So here I am, lagging behind Ms. C who is dressed in finery and accompanied by her friends, grousing and grilling myself at the monstrous social faux pas I’ve already committed. With 3 of them under my belt right off the bat, I was determined to not make another. That is how I came to eat fish, even though I detest and cannot stomach even the smell of seafood.

Let’s rewind.

The invitation was to go hiking on Sunday. It was extended by the English Department’s assistant Dean and the implication was that many teachers from our department would go. I agreed to the outing enthusiastically. All of the teachers have been so busy this year that we’ve hardly had a chance to socialize. A nice hike, perhaps followed by a good meal was the impression created. That is not at all what happened.

Ms. C. and I agreed to meet at the school gate and there is where we did meet. She arrived in a black Audi sedan. That was shocker #1, and my first clue that this would be more than a hike with colleagues. The finery she was attired in was clue #2.     

Black Audis are not so uncommon in China, but owning one on a teacher’s salary is. Perhaps her husband is well situated. I looked at the man piloting the vehicle. He was dressed only average, in jeans and a Polo shirt. He seemed hardly a man that would earn the money required to buy and maintain such an expensive car. He also did not seem the type of man that Ms. C would be married to. He didn’t seem eminent enough. I suspected that the car and driver were rented for the day, another clue that this outing was designed to impress. It is not uncommon to rent a car with driver for such occasions. However, Ms. C. acted as though the man driving were her husband, to an extent: her son was in the car and the man addressed him as though familiar with him. She conversed with the driver vivaciously, directed him where to go and even handing her cellphone over to talk with someone.

That ‘someone’ turned out to be a friend of hers who would be joining us on the outing. While I was under the impression that the driver of the car was her husband I thought it was a friend of the family we were picking up, especially since the driver got out of the car to cordially greet our newcomer. Operating under that assumption, I was a bit surprised when I turned around to find Ms. C. with her hand on his knee and his hand covering hers. That was my second clue that the car and driver might be a rental. But the driver did join us for this lavish luncheon and sat next to her son. Also, he joined us for the dinner we partook of 4 hours later and again sat next to the boy. He just didn’t talk much. The child didn’t talk at all. Again, the relationship between him and Ms. C. came into question. Ms. C and her son barely interacted at all.  

Sometimes, context clues are just not enough.

The food! No less than thirteen dishes crowded the lazy susan. Glutinous rice balls, beef with vegetables, pork knuckles in stewed sauce, 4 different vegetable dishes, salad, a succulent stewed pork with robin eggs and more. Of course, no Chinese meal is complete without a fish. A whole fish: head, eyeballs, fins and all. There was also crispy-fried glutinous rice snacks, a traditional snack that resembles pancakes, and fruit for dessert. I was never more glad to see a plate of watermelon in my life. It signified the end of the meal. The food was far richer fare than what I am used to, but delicious nonetheless. Even the fish did not taste bad. Remember: I had already committed 3 social faux pas. I was not going to admit I loathe fish. So I was stuck eating a generous portion of fish that was placed in my bowl.  

The eating was convivial, the chatter much. More of Ms. C.’s friends – two women, one with her daughter, had joined us. All were interested in the foreigner. Especially my hostess’ male friend, who asked me what I thought of him. Being as I had only just met him I did not have long to formulate an opinion but that wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Regardless of what I thought, I was supposed to compliment. I did.

Hopefully, after this sumptuous meal we would go hiking. After an hour’s car ride and meeting several of the friend’s friends, we did. But first, we toured a movie studio set way out in the country. That was pretty cool.

The hike itself was halfway up a hill that had the temerity to call itself a mountain. I never broke a sweat, so gentle was the slope. The other women on the outing were nearly undone by the effort. I suppose I would be too if I walked up an incline in heels, holding a parasol. Ms. C.’s friend – that man who, even now remains nameless was dripping with perspiration and called for an early descent before we climbed even halfway up. I was a bit disappointed about that but did not let it show.

Once back to where the cars were parked it was time to go eat again. Not by my stomach’s calculations! A mere 3 hours prior we had pushed ourselves away from one table groaning with food. Now we were headed to another?

This one was in a converted greenhouse, way out in the country. Its specialties were all things seafood: fish stew, fish flavored rice balls, whole frogs sautéed with vegetables, calamari, clams, and, of course, a whole fish, head and all. A token nod to other poor creatures cooked whole: quail, served from beak to foot, duck, complete with bill, a turtle, recognizable by its shell, and the requisite vegetables. I stuck to the vegetables.

Again our driver joined us for the meal and acted as host. As with lunch, liquor flowed freely. This time we were joined not just by the party whom we lunched with but by 3 other men, employees of Ms. C.’s friend. Bai jiu, that clear liquor akin to moonshine was liberally dispensed. Having learned the art of drinking bai jiu from prior experience with the beverage, I have to admit that I committed a fourth social faux pas by not downing a whole glass at a time with each toast given. Instead of chugging I sipped. I was forgiven this transgression because I am a foreigner.

Ms. C would not have been forgiven, and our car’s driver, acting as host, had filled her glass to capacity. By the end of the meal she was decidedly three sheets to the wind and promptly retired to the ladies’ room to throw up.  

I figured that would be the end of the festivities. We went to sing KTV instead. More on that next post.               

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