If Chinese hospitality is not famous, it ought to be.
A Chinese host cares for a guest with a psychotic hospitality that can overwhelm and bewilder the unsuspecting westerner. After nearly two years in China, I still get caught off guard.
A couple of nights ago I met Fu Zhilan at the movie theatre. I had nothing to do for the evening, so I went to see Tron. Like eating oreos, going to the movies is something I do in China to remind me of Canada even though I never actually do it at home.
Fu is a fourth year law student in Guiyang; she comes from a smaller town a few hours away. We went out to eat after the movie, and she beat me to the bill with the infuriating skill that all Chinese people seem to possess. Oh well, I thought, I'll get it next time.
But it was not to be. Every time we have bought so much as a bottle of water together she has pushed me aside, declaring firmly "You mustn't do that; you are a guest!" All of my usual tricks are no use.
To a Canadian, all of this can get embarrassing and awkward. I am not used to watching someone I have hardly met slap down money for me over and over again. Like so many other things in China, however, it is something I may just have to swallow. I have noticed that the more remote and traditional a region of China, the more this attitude prevails. My friends in relatively modernized Nanjing will split a bill, but in Guiyang no such thing exists.
The Chinese have a commonly used phrase meaning "to pull tight connections." This is everything that the Chinese do to strengthen their social bonds: asking people out to eat, giving gifts, drinking together, sharing cigarettes, and so on. All of these things slowly build up social capital, a substance that is at least as valuable here as money or property. That is not to say that Fu's kindness has ulterior motives. This kind of behavior is rather a kind of instinct that the Chinese possess, a faith that the money and effort spent making friends will all come back in the end. And one way or the other, it usually does.
This is one of the most fascinating, beautiful, frustrating and mind-bending elements of the Chinese world.
As usual, however, I really actually want to talk about food. Fu took me to eat at a friend's house this evening. Her friend is in his late 20s and from Guangdong province. He, his wife, two other friends, Fu and I were gathering for a meal before everyone left Guiyang to spend the new year in their respective hometowns. He made hot pot.
If you don't know what hot pot is, you should. It is one of the great foods of the world. Hot pot is made by stewing a soup base with oil, vast amounts of chili peppers, spices and herbs in a large pot with a steady flame under it. Everyone sits around the pot, and dumps in any kind of food imaginable. As soon as the ingredients are cooked, everyone fishes them out with chopsticks and eats them. Simple, but brilliant.
Tonight's hot pot was served with a curious drink: mulled beer. Our host took a large pot of beer and boiled it, covered, with lemon, ginger, rock sugar, Chinese dates, and some medicinal herbs. The result was completely flat, but retained a surprising amount of its alcohol content, and had a quite complimentary flavour.
Guangdong people are known for their extreme tastes in food, even by Chinese standards. Some of the ingredients of this hot pot are as follows:
Sliced lotus root
Freshly killed and gutted trout (our host had to hold them down in the pot with chopsticks to stop them from flopping about).
Sliced pork kidneys
Shaved mutton
Bullfrogs
Mushrooms
Wood fungus
Spam
Sliced potatoes
Tofu skin
Chinese broccoli
Pork brains
Glutinous rice cubes
I know what you're thinking. Spam? Weird.
Regards,
Niko
A Chinese host cares for a guest with a psychotic hospitality that can overwhelm and bewilder the unsuspecting westerner. After nearly two years in China, I still get caught off guard.
A couple of nights ago I met Fu Zhilan at the movie theatre. I had nothing to do for the evening, so I went to see Tron. Like eating oreos, going to the movies is something I do in China to remind me of Canada even though I never actually do it at home.
Fu is a fourth year law student in Guiyang; she comes from a smaller town a few hours away. We went out to eat after the movie, and she beat me to the bill with the infuriating skill that all Chinese people seem to possess. Oh well, I thought, I'll get it next time.
But it was not to be. Every time we have bought so much as a bottle of water together she has pushed me aside, declaring firmly "You mustn't do that; you are a guest!" All of my usual tricks are no use.
To a Canadian, all of this can get embarrassing and awkward. I am not used to watching someone I have hardly met slap down money for me over and over again. Like so many other things in China, however, it is something I may just have to swallow. I have noticed that the more remote and traditional a region of China, the more this attitude prevails. My friends in relatively modernized Nanjing will split a bill, but in Guiyang no such thing exists.
The Chinese have a commonly used phrase meaning "to pull tight connections." This is everything that the Chinese do to strengthen their social bonds: asking people out to eat, giving gifts, drinking together, sharing cigarettes, and so on. All of these things slowly build up social capital, a substance that is at least as valuable here as money or property. That is not to say that Fu's kindness has ulterior motives. This kind of behavior is rather a kind of instinct that the Chinese possess, a faith that the money and effort spent making friends will all come back in the end. And one way or the other, it usually does.
This is one of the most fascinating, beautiful, frustrating and mind-bending elements of the Chinese world.
As usual, however, I really actually want to talk about food. Fu took me to eat at a friend's house this evening. Her friend is in his late 20s and from Guangdong province. He, his wife, two other friends, Fu and I were gathering for a meal before everyone left Guiyang to spend the new year in their respective hometowns. He made hot pot.
If you don't know what hot pot is, you should. It is one of the great foods of the world. Hot pot is made by stewing a soup base with oil, vast amounts of chili peppers, spices and herbs in a large pot with a steady flame under it. Everyone sits around the pot, and dumps in any kind of food imaginable. As soon as the ingredients are cooked, everyone fishes them out with chopsticks and eats them. Simple, but brilliant.
Tonight's hot pot was served with a curious drink: mulled beer. Our host took a large pot of beer and boiled it, covered, with lemon, ginger, rock sugar, Chinese dates, and some medicinal herbs. The result was completely flat, but retained a surprising amount of its alcohol content, and had a quite complimentary flavour.
Guangdong people are known for their extreme tastes in food, even by Chinese standards. Some of the ingredients of this hot pot are as follows:
Sliced lotus root
Freshly killed and gutted trout (our host had to hold them down in the pot with chopsticks to stop them from flopping about).
Sliced pork kidneys
Shaved mutton
Bullfrogs
Mushrooms
Wood fungus
Spam
Sliced potatoes
Tofu skin
Chinese broccoli
Pork brains
Glutinous rice cubes
I know what you're thinking. Spam? Weird.
Regards,
Niko
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