Well I caved. I purchased a VPN account that grants me full access to the world wide web of social media. I can now watch political debates, read western perspective on China's island disputes, and use you/twit/face. Furthermore, I can blog with out having to use a middle man, which means I will write more frequently for about a week before grow tired of it.
Cheers and beers
Drinking in China is like girls going to the bathroom in America, it is not a solitary act. If you are thirsty you better stand and toast somebody. Chinese meals feel like a more rapid version of power hour. There is no sip, once glasses collide you are expected to finish the cup. If you fill your shot glass up again after drinking, you are fair game to be called out for another cheers. If you don't feel like drinking any more, you don't fill you glass again in which case you have just bought yourself thirty seconds of rest time until someone else fills it for you.
When you are a guest at a table, it is a sign of gratitude to the host to get a little toasty (call out a few cheers and spill your drink a little while doing so). It shows them that you have enjoyed yourself in their presence. Sometimes this means we go through a lot of pi'jou (pronounced pee-jo=beer) seeing as how the ABV of Chinese beer has the same percentage as beer sold in a Minnesota grocery store.
Another sign of respect comes during the act of cheersing (which is a word according to urbandictionary). If you touch your glass below some one's you are paying them your respect. This act of etiquette has turned into somewhat of a competition as I always try to get my glass to clink at the lower level. In order to do this, I use a little move I learned from Viktor Krum called the Wronski Feint. I first go in for the toast, pretending like I'm staying the straight course until I'm an inch away and I roll the glass back in my hand and dive down clipping the bottom of the persons glass while I do so. I must say, I have not mastered the art, as a result there usually will be some spilt beer or plate that gets knocked over.
The last Chinese meal I went to was in all actuality a faculty Friday. Kassy and I dinned with the Southwest University; president, vice president, chair of the biology and math department, and the dean of students. All these scholarly men who have achieved great academic feats and acquired stockpiles of knowledge were fervently shaking our hands and welcoming us to their University. I performed a great number of Wronski Feints that night. As a result from these actions, a great deal of beer was spilled and a bowl was knocked over, but at least proper respect was paid.
I'll eventually post some pictures from this grand feast. I've never thought that food needed to be portrayed as decadent artwork, but WOW the aesthetics of this meal were spectacular. Franc from the "Father of the Bride" would have cried with joy from the way everything looked. The taste of everything equally phenomenal. Thankfully by this time, our chopstick proficiency was passable enough not to have to ask for a spoon. After dinner ended and everyone was a little red in the face, Kassy and I started walking back to our apartment. The night certainly didn't end here, but this blog will. We'll pick up where we left off at our local pub "Heaven and Hell" that needs a blog entry just for itself.
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