Experiencing China
An Intentional Cross-Cultural VacationDay 1:
Humble Pie and Duck Feet
Hong Kong, in transit to Guangzhou, Guangdong Province
China: mountains
and dragons, Red Books and the Great Wall; xhopsticks and rice, dynasties
and Confucius. I'm actually here. I feel humbled and deeply blessed by
God. I'm grateful and anticipating much of these next two weeks. Thank
you, Lord.
I arrived
late last night at the Hong Kong airport and was, a bit to my surprise
in such an international airport, the only Caucasian in a room 
of
one-fifty; not surprised to be a minority, but surprised to be so in such
an extreme manner.
After going through customs and exchanging some American dollars for Hong Kong dollars (got a terrible rate, of course, at the airport: 7.24 HK$ to 1US$), I found Tony just as I remember him - grinning and in his Wisconsin Badgers sweatshirt. Rode a bus to the heart of Hong Kong, to Nathan Street in Kowloon. We stayed at the Chungking Mansions (only 150 HK$/night), one of only two places in Hong Kong, we discovered today, for which the United States Navy has declared a formal edict forbidding its sailors to go; have quite a bit of "character," it seems, these Mansions, too much even for salty military scalawags. But the place was recommended to us by Tony's friend who's part of a Christian ministry involved in helping the poor and addicts and others that hang their hats around there, so actually the hotel folks already knew Tony. Space was tight and the walls disconcertingly thin. I slept surprisingly well considering my body thinks it's fourteen hours earlier than what the clock says. The jet lag diet must be working. The shower, sink, and toilet were all crammed into one little cranny of a room, much like most Chinese bathrooms apparently.
Today we met up with some staff from Hong Kong Fellowship of Evangelical
Students (HKFES), which is part of the worldwide IFES and somewhat like
InterVarsity back in the States. I walked into Gideon's office (the General
Secretary of HKFES) and was delighted to see stacks of InterVarsity Press
titles in English, many of which I have on my own shelves and have read.
It's always exciting seeing my world shrink before my eyes, knowing that
people on the other side of the world are reading and thinking about Jesus
and life using the same exact materials and text. Certainly we have our
differences, but I'm reminded that there are in fact universal threads
that unify us.
Gideon,
Mesona, a campus staff team leader, and the other staff were very welcoming
and congenial, asked many questions about Urbana 2000 and we viewed
Urbana's
website together. The campus staff, at least initially, reminded me much
of campus staff workers I know in the States - very friendly, young,
hip
even . . . if I can use the word "hip" in the year 2000.
The flow of conversation was different than what I am used to. Chinese can be much less direct than Americans, not to mention more humble and self-effacing. I had a tough time getting Gideon and Mesona to talk about themselves, unlike most Americans. I'm humbled by their humility!
Our conversation didn't go exactly as follows, but in the conversations I've had with Chinese even previous to today, they can often be similar to this, humble, apologetic, deliberate:
Upon entering
his office, "I am so sorry for this mess," he says.
"No, that's okay. I'm very comfortable." I sit down opposite
him and his desk.
"Would you like some coffee?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm fine, but thank you."
"Again, I am sorry we don't have nicer conditions for you."
"I'm fine. Do not worry."
"Sure you would not like some coffee?"
"Okay, sure."
"Anything in it?"
"Cream, please."
"Sorry, it's probably not very good or what you're used to. You may
be surprised. Tell me about yourself."
This wasn't our conversation, per se, but there were traces of our time together that were similar. Myself, I accepted coffee on the first offer, though I then questioned whether I should have. Feared I spoke too much about my work and myself. In response to their apologies, my reflex emotion was guilt for causing them to feel the need to apologize, but then I realized they were simply being modest by nature. I wasn't sure if we should shake hands in coming or going and the exit to go to lunch felt abrupt.
We had lunch
at a restaurant on Austin Street, a short walk from the office; don't
remember the name of the place, but the dining room was huge and packed
tight with dozens (hundreds?) of round, tableclothed tables; lots of conversation
and activity. We ate Chinese Dim
Sum (literally meaning "to touch the heart," so 
I've
just read . . .), a Cantonese culinary art form of sorts - a diverse
array
of little baskets containing shrimp or pork dumplings, spring rolls,
shrimp delicately wrapped in some sort of rice-flour wrap, meat wrapped
in a
lime-colored leaf (more like cabbage than seaweed), steamed veggies and
bean sprouts and beef, and congealed, sticky rice which they say is popular
for the Chinese New Year which happened recently (this is the year of
the Dragon, and not only that, but the Golden Dragon which happens only
every once in a long while). We had hot tea and hot water to choose from
and I quickly noted that it was polite for whoever was pouring tea to
first pour for everyone else, even if just to top off their cups, before
pouring their own. And we ate communally, all the food being served in
the center of the table in large dishes, as opposed to each person having
their own platter of food. In America, I've heard this method of eating
called "family style." Can't help but note the contrast between
American individualism and the Chinese sense of community in this. I feel
like we really shared a meal. The meal started with peanuts and fish & seaweed
patties.
I did all right with the chopsticks and learned to use them in tandem with the accompanying wide spoon. The Chinese present were very understanding of my lack of skill. Tony does well as he's been in China for a while now. Like most folks would be, I think, they seemed satisfied that I made a sincere effort to learn their ways, about their culture and how to act within it. Better to do that and fail than ignore their culture and only practice your own while visiting.
Then came those bloated, fleshy, threatening morsels, the ones I feared would come alive, wiggle and tickle my palette once inside my mouth - chicken and duck feet. Not easy things to maneuver into one's mouth with chopsticks, but after a few slimy slips, I managed. Just pop the foot in your mouth, chomp off a few joints and then whittle the flesh off the bones with your teeth. It didn't seem rude to pull the bones from your mouth with your hands and place them upon your plate before going after another bite. To my taste buds, it was like eating gristle with a touch of seasoning.
We spoke
a bit about the Chinese New Year 
that
passed in early February. Many people traveled, went to see family, ate
a great deal. They told Tony and I about the red "money" that
married people (like Gideon) traditionally give to single people (like
Tony, Mesona, and I) for the New Year. Gideon joked that the giving of
the money was for the sake of greed. An unmarried staff worker at the
table insisted the money was meant to be a blessing. All depends on the
point of view, I guess.
Gideon paid and I wasn't sure how to respond. I, in my fumbling with my wallet and half-offering to help pay, dumbly asked Gideon and the others how much the meal cost. They graciously responded by snickering and telling me it was more than I could afford.
We're on our way to Guangzhou by train. Can't wait to see Tony's place and some countryside.
Mark
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