the Marimbist

There are more than 56 government-recognized minority groups in China.  (The majority of the people in China fall into the Han ethnic group.)  In this part of the Hunan province, there are a large number of people of the Miao minority culture.  The first thing I noticed out of the window of our bus was the larger number of pregnant women and women with babies.  I asked my friend on the bus and she told me (a little sheepishly) that they could have more children here.  Oops.  I should have put that together for myself and not asked her what turned out to be a sensitive question.  The rural communities (where the children often grow up to work in the fields) are sometimes allowed exceptions to China’s one-child policy—which was instituted to control population growth.  The policy has been successful (as far as I can see), but the necessity of it does seem to have caused some sadness in a culture that has—for thousands of years—taken great pride in having large numbers of children and the use of extended families as a “social security” technique.  At any rate, there were markedly more children visible on the streets here than on the streets in Changsha (the province’s capital city).

I felt “at home” here—more so than I do in China’s large cities.  The town of Fenghuang is a primarily agricultural city—surrounded by terraced rice fields, mountains, and gorgeous mist-covered mountains that made me wish I were a painter.

We were the guests of some administrators from the County Education department.  They gave us a tour of two of the Middle Schools and the one High School.  We also had a meeting with the senior administrators and I’ll report on that meeting in a future essay.  Being a guest (in Chinese culture in general, and in the Miao culture in particular) means being asked to drink.  A lot.

We were welcomed to a middle school on Saturday morning by a large group of teachers in traditional costumes carrying (what I considered to be large) bowls of incredibly strong rice wine!  Imagine… Alcohol on a middle school campus!  Obviously the kids weren’t drinking, but I guess there’s a reason that they call it culture SHOCK.  Luckily, there was little drinking involved at the school, just that one welcome bowl and a bit at the lunch.  My problem was the dinners…

Now I have no problem with people drinking, but I personally don’t care for it.  Especially in public.  More Especially when I’m in a professional situation.  And Most Certainly when I’m the only foreigner in a remote region of a distant land.  The trouble is that I had to walk the fine line between being a polite guest—not offending the generosity of my hosts—and trying my best not to get smashed and possibly stupid!  There were lots of toasts going around in each meal and everyone (individually, in small groups, and en masse) wanted to toast the lone foreigner in our group!

I’ve been drunk once in my life.  I was 22 and getting ready to go to Desert Storm and thought that I needed that experience before I went somewhere that I could possibly die.  I didn’t enjoy the experience.  Consequently, I didn’t repeat it and, further consequently, I am a featherweight when it comes to drinking.  (I SHARED a glass of wine with my Father before dinner at Applebee’s and was still dizzy when we walked to the car 2 hours later.)

The solution that I found was a little bit difficult to sell, but it worked once a few of the other people (who quietly told me that they felt the same way) joined me.  I filled my shot glass with tea (or when possible, with a local kiwi juice which they were very proud of), then simply suffered the “slings and arrows” assaulting my masculinity for a little while.  Once they saw that I was serious and that I didn’t care if they said that I drank like a woman (There were several women there who would drink me under the table even if they were drinking 2-3 glasses to my 1!), they relaxed about it and even helped defend me at future meals.

This all worked fairly well, but I didn’t want the compromise to be all on their side, so when the large group toasted, or for especially important toasts, I would allow my (shot) glass to be filled with the paint thinner they called wine.  One toast that I would have liked to have made one of these exceptions was by the waitresses at a restaurant.  These three women wanted to toast me with a song that they sang three times, and each time was to be met with the drinking of a shot glass of wine.  I wish I could have done it, but I just didn’t have three glasses worth of that stuff left in me.  The girls were very sweet, sang beautifully (and a bit hauntingly), allowed me to substitute kiwi juice, and said (through a translator) “We’ll never forget this.”  There are very few Westerners in this part of Hunan…

The Saturday night meal left me heavily “buzzed.”  This was as close to drunk as I’ve been in 20 years and I was relieved to see that I got “happy” instead of “stupid” or “angry.”  I have little experience, and consequently, am not very good at judging just how many exceptions I should make for special toasts… 

Bonus Link:  Not trying to be preachy.  I just thought it was interesting…

Bonus Link II:  For those who might like to read about an interesting someone else’s travels!

Tags: China, drinking, fenghuang, miao, minority

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