Beijing 2007

More than language

Our delegation of 218 Principals and teachers have come to Beijing to attend the second International Education Exchange Forum held this year at No.81 school. The Forum concluded its morning session with a signing ceremony between sister schools and a photo opportunity of all the Forum attendees, Chinese and Canadian, outside in the hot sun of the midday. The delegation was joined by 20 Chinese Principals who would travel with us and stay in the same hotel over the next five days. I had already met some of them at last year’s Forum. We all drove off together in six busses to the pre-arranged lunch location. The drive took us past Yuyuantan Park, the foreing auto sales district and the CCTV tower. We eventually arrived at a new commercial building and parked the busses and ascended the two floors to the dinning hall which turned out to be a karaoke hall. Tables large enough for ten to fourteen people filled the seating part of the hall opposite the stage and dance floor. The bar was at one end.

I sat down at a table that had space and after making introductions and some social chat we all began to relax. The humid heat was far too strong for the feeble air conditioning in the hall so I opened one of the large windows beside our table to get a cross breeze. Other windows opened for the same purpose. I shifted my focus to nearby table groups to see who was seated near us. The staff table was right beside us and next to them a group of twelve Chinese Principals. I spotted one of them with a bottle of beer in his hand returning to the table. I returned to my table to see if anyone else cared to join me in a cold one. Unfortunately, I couldn’t communicate the order to the server dressed in the colourful green outfit of the staff uniform. Feeling somewhat frustrated I retreated toward my table but passing the Chinese table I noticed that they all had beer glasses full to the top. I spotted May, the party secretary and one of the participants at last year’s Forum. I knew she was the translator for the group and I could ask her. I rushed toward her already feeling successful in my quest. I touched her shoulder to get her attention and pleaded ‘May, can you help me order beer for my table?’ Surprised, she turned back to her table and said something in putonghua then turned back to me and said ‘Yes, I can help. I’ll just be a moment’. Relieved, I returned to my group triumphant and asked ‘who needs beer?’ I am surprised that only four want that delicious hoppy flavoured elixir to combat the stifling sticky humidity and slake the dry palate before indulging in our anticipated feast. But here you have it, only four. I sit and wait. The server soon comes and I place our order. Jen and I will have one each and the two youngest men at the table, one traveling with his dad to China and the other with his wife. Neither of the young men are teachers so I assume that their travel partner is the connection to our teacher party. The beer arrives, two bottles first, and the server asks me something in Chinese I don’t understand. He has a bottle opener in his hand and I oblige by grabbing the base of both bottles to anchor them while he snaps off the cap. I hand them off to the two young men first and repeat the process with the next two when he returns. He asks something again but sees that I am in charge and obligingly pops off the caps. Food begins arriving shortly and the beer ceremony fades into the background as plate after plate arrives amid conversation of ‘what is that?’ ‘oh, that one’s good!’ consumes our attention and our overloaded sensory experience of a Chinese banquet begins. The soups and the watermelon course announce the end of our meal and I quaff back the last of my delicious beer. Table groups rustle and begin to stand as Nina makes her way among them announcing it is time to get back on the bus.

At 3:00 a.m. I am working over all that has happened this full and very busy day. I am rested, in bed, comfortable with the air conditioned hotel room providing a kind of mental space that allows me to turn thoughts over and around and look at them like jade pieces at a market, peering at the experience to see if it can yield a glimpse maybe a bit deeper into this different world we are now experiencing. The beer keeps coming up in my half conscious mind and I return to the events of the lunchtime meal in my mind.

It is the image of the Chinese Principals table with about a dozen all seated. I see beer glasses all filled. We had similar glasses at our table and I know they are not for water. You only drink water from a bottle in China, so they must be for beer. I see the karaoke setup in my mental sweep of the big room. For some reason Peter Hessler’s book, Rivertown, comes to my mind and my mental focus is now on the pages he writes about the banquet culture and particularly the practice of ‘ganbei’, repeated toasts until someone falls off a chair drunk.

My focus clears as I see my own outsider self-centered thirst blinding me the Chinese Principal’s group ceremony. The Chinese Principals had all been sitting silently, beer glasses full. Someone was talking. It was Director Li, the head of the Chinese delegation. I blundered into their opening to foreign educators at the second Sino-Candad Education Forum, or whatever that toast was going to be. I don’t think I’ll ever know but its more than just a language issue.