Every morning we dined on Western-style breakfasts. Lunches and dinners, however, were another matter. Our bus would pull up to a Chinese restaurant with waiters lined up outside to greet us. We were then seated at a large round table with a lazy Susan in the center.
No doubt English-language tours were suffering American-style hamburgers while I was getting the real thing. I was feeling pretty smug about this aspect of my trip...until dining protocol knocked me down a peg.
The one point of etiquette I knew was a rule of tea service. In Chinese society it is considered impolite to grab the pot and pour one's own tea before first serving those around you. In a pathetic attempt to show off I reached for the pot and started to pour when distress signals flew at me from around the table.
The pot was carefully removed from my ignorant hands. The ladies at the table showed me what was what. They poured the tea into a large empty bowl and began to wash their cups, bowls, plates and chopsticks in the steaming brew. The gentlemen joined in and washed their utensils as well. A new pot of tea for drinking was delivered as the cleaning ritual was completed.
After tea is poured the receiver raps his or her knuckles on the table as a thank you. Mr. Leung told me the story: An emperor of the Qing Dynasty wished to mingle with commoners and made a sneaky getaway from the Forbidden City. He traveled in disguise throughout Beijing, accompanied by his servants. Because the attendants were in the presence of undercover royalty, they devised a clever form of kowtowing and let their fingers kneel in obeisance.
Our meals were predominately meat. Huge platters of pork, beef and chicken filled the table along with large bowls of rice and soup.
Most days, one lonely plate of bok choy served as the vegetable quotient. After five days of carnivorous mastication I developed a bordering-on-crazy craving for vegetables. The dish of bok choy would whiz past me on the lazy Susan. I'd try my best to snatch it but often missed as the plate spun out of reach.
Leonard, next to me, described what we were about to eat at each meal.
Hot and sour soup.
Love hot and sour soup, I said as I scooped a huge ladleful.
Do you know what that is? Leonard asked, pointing at something in my bowl.
Looks like a noodle of some kind, I answered, and slithered it into my mouth.
That's blood.
What?
They spin blood really fast into that long skinny thing.
So, what happened to the bok choy?
We did enjoy a special meal of Peking Duck, or more accurately, Beijing Duck. It was crispy, fatty, delicious and jam-packed with MSG.
Back at the medical institute, when a doctor lectured our group about good health, I wanted to throw my hand up and ask, Did you ever consider cutting back on the MSG, or trying brown rice and hey, what about your colleagues outside smoking their brains out?
No comments:
Post a Comment