Peking

August 8, 2006

The evening started innocuously enough. President Shi and his military friend Wei picked me up at the airport. We had awkward conversation in the car on the way to the hotel. I was able to sort out that the hotel was 20 minutes from the airport and that we were leaving at 9:30 a.m. the next morning. Other than that I was fairly confused. At the hotel, Shi told me that I should wash up and that he’d be back in 10 minutes.

One of Wei’s friends had shown up in the meantime in his dress greens and we drove out to a restaurant ten minutes away. The restaurant specialized in the boiling-of-the-food-at-your-table-style for which I don’t yet have a name. I witnessed the arrival of a bottle of wheat wine of whose properties I was already fairly aware. I looked around unassumingly as Wei poured us all a shot. They encouraged me to sample the various fruits and nuts set on the table and were impressed with my chopsticking abilities.

Several plates of raw meats arrived and I was instructed to toss them into the boiling water in front of me. I ate to pass the time while Shi told me the Chinese words for things. Then the shots began. It was light and not as fierce as my previous trip to Peking. Conversation was mild yet lively despite the complete lack of Chinese on my part. I ate huge quantities of red meat to slow the onset of absolute drunkenness. Shi kept an eye out for me and I made it through intact. He mentioned to me on the way back to the hotel that women might call me or knock at the door but not to answer. Only he would call at 5:30 a.m. to go to breakfast after which we would depart for the airport.