October 27, 2009 Letter 7: The Formal Banquet in Suzou

There just aren’t words to describe what unfolded on October 26th.  We had been driven to Suzou, an  hour south of Shanghai, for presentations. Suzou is a ‘small’ Chinese city – only 6 million, not including suburbs.  David and I had participated at the Suchou Business Network forum (SBN, a giant industrial park community devoted to Hi Tech) on the topic of Socially Responsible Business.  The day before, we’d been told it was cancelled’; that morning, that it had been reinstated at the insistance of a high-ranking official. There may be some internal dissension about how China will grow.

We had honed our act by that point, and this would be the last time we would speak together (since the remaining presentations would be to psychology and religious studies classes, who were less interested in the business and financial aspects, I would be completing the last 3 presentations on my own).  As usual, David took the macro view, looking at government and business, global warming and ecology, and social costs and benefits.  Then I would present what we decided to title ‘Circles of Perception’, a psychological explanation of the 50/50 teachings focusing upon how good-hearted individuals can make bad decisions by not being fully conscious of how short-term and ego-centrically focused their thought processes are.  Because they are developmentally still only aware of themselves and their personal needs, they project that what is good for them is good for everyone (or simply only understand what is good for them, and let the rest of us fend for ourselves).  That is, they operate from within the Individual Circle, known in Pathwork as The Individual Self Sphere.

Every time we present, the Chinese are wild about the idea.  I mentioned that students have tears in their eyes when they thank me afterwards.  The eyes of party officials, CEOs, and vice-presidents of universities also seem to glisten, and their thank you’s feel genuine (the one university president we met had not witnessed the presentation, but congratulated us warmly based upon reports from his subordinates. And promised to send David a box of tea given to him by a government minister, which we were told was akin to princes sharing something a king had given them). 

I had become used to the incredibly warm receptions David received, the respect shown to him and Zhihe, and the overall enthusiasm for the concept of Socially Responsible Business (SRB).  I have attended many business forums as the CEO of my own manufacturing company, and know the difference between glitzy marketing presentations versus when a corporation is innovative and inspiring.  The tone of this forum was similar to those in the US  microelectronics industry in the ‘90s when Quality and Reliability resurfaced as essential business virtues.  David is credited by the Chinese as the author of SRB, and they honored him with what approached veneration on this occasion.  He shies away from such accolades, but sometimes ideas which are truly modest can ignite new movements and inspire others to greatness.

Both of us had been rather apprehensive about the forum because of the dignitaries and business leaders who would be attending.  We knew it was important to present well and honor those who had invited us.  It was getting to be a joke that Zhihe wasn’t always telling us everything on the schedule, so as not to rattle us or make us nervous.  So when he sat David down for a local TV interview minutes before the forum started, all Joan and I could do was laugh and wish David luck – and he did a great job.

We knocked it out of the park that afternoon, impressing everyone.  And suddenly the evening’s formal banquet was the next thing on our schedule.

This is where words may simply not be enough.  We had been invited to both lunch and dinner almost every day with university officials.  These were given in private rooms in restaurants, with 8-10 people sitting at a round table with a huge 4’ diamter lazy susan in the center.  Waiters brought dishes nonstop for at least an hour, and if we didn’t serve ourselves then our hosts would kindly place samples of the foods on our plates to make certain that we tasted everything.   Many of the restaurants were top of the line, with exquisite china and ornate décor.  The food was indescribably good, and our struggle was to not eat any more than a bite of anything because of the sheer number of dishes.  When you thought that the meal must be coming to a close, suddenly a huge braised fish would appear (kept alive in giant fish aquariums in the lobbies until chosen for our meals, they were often brought to our host alive for his inspection and approval).  And then noodles, another soup, and – if we were fortunate – only one dessert.  Usually, there were 3-4 because of the occasion, even though the Chinese don’t eat desserts at every meal. 

The formal banquet table that evening was 20 feet in diameter.  I am not kdding.  The floral arrangements were delicately arranged across a 6’ diameter area.  We were served formal courses for the first time, probably over 15 different dishes just like the other banquets.  But fortunately, the waiters simply whisked away the old ones and replaced them with new so that it wasn’t obvious what we had eaten or not eaten. 

There were at least 30 people seated around the table, which could easily have held 50.  Wines had been provided by one of the buinessmen; organic white from Germany, organic red from Italy.  The Chinese custom of toasting their guests and each other, draining their glasses and keeping the waiters scurrying to refill (just an inch each time), escalated after the first 5 courses so that for the last half of the evening hardly anyone was in their seats.  Instead, it was like the dinner had turned into a cocktail party, with people circling the room in search of friends to toast and chat with while the waiters removed untouched courses and substituted new ones on a schedule of their own.

We’d also become used to receiving gifts from the universities; beautiful framed items, mounted in presentation boxes which would protect them on the way home.  We had also received scrolls and tea sets.  My biggest rolling bag now held only the boxed gifts, while my clothes would have to be put into China bags for the trip home, and I had given up the idea of doing any shopping, as I didn’t have any more room -- it might just be given to me anyway.  The gifts this evening were spectacular; pictures embroidered in the thinnest of silk, so that they looked like water colors.  I felt fortunate in being the ‘subordinate’, ‘cause mine was small enough (16:x20”) to sandwich between the silk quilts I had bought that afternoon.  David’s was about 24x30”, and Joan guessed that it had taken at least 6 months to embroider.

Was that all?  Nope.  The minister of the entire district was there, and as part of the evening’s festivities he performed a piece of Chinese Opera for us, a delicate dance of hand postures accompanied by one of his own compositions – which he sang for us.  And then it was back to the toasting rituals.

Ladies are allowed to toast with juice or yogurt, so at least I wasn’t insulting anyone.  Men are expected to handle their liquor, a male bonding ritual and test of trust (but several of the university Deans were also on juice, so perhaps this custom is fading a bit). As the honored guest David was trying to keep up with his hosts by only taking a sip each time, instead of following the command of ‘gambey!’ or bottoms up.  While no one seemed to get drunk, the delicate lady seated next to me started to giggle at one point and indicated that her cheeks had gone numb.  Then she was off for another round of toasts. Like the meals, it becomes important to pace thirst along with hunger.  But when they filled my glass, they filled the juice glass to the brim – so I was running out of room faster than those who were tossing back only an inch of wine at a time.  

When the government minister singled me out for a toast, I complimented his Operaf and shared that my daughter was a theatre director.  He immediately invited her to come, saying that he would personally host her visit and arrange speaking engagements with the community theatre groups. (perhaps he had become a bit exhuberant towards the end of the evening, but the Chinese make such promises and they keep them). He said that they needed as much cultural exchange as possible.  When I said that she would come the next day, except that she had a 5 month old child to care for, the translator didn’t compensate for the fact that Chinese doesn’t have a past tense, and suddenly the minister was calling one of his aides over.  He thought that my daughter was actually arriving, and was going to arrange for a driver to pick her up! It was a bit tense to clear up the misunderstanding and let him save face.  But he reiterated the offer in a way that makes me believe that it is real, and that she has an invitation to come to Suzou as a cultural ambassador, and that this minister would very likely meet with her.

I was pretty close to overflowing, both figuratively and literally, when he then gave another round of toasts. Joan Schwerin (David’s wife) was celebrated as the most beautiful of wives, while I was honored as the smartest of women.  In front of party officials, university deans, CEOs, and the Japanese director of Panasonic (who had his aide translate the speeches into Japanese while ours translated into English).  The whole day was starting to feel like a fairy tale.

This was the fanciest hotel we stayed during the entire trip.  My room was practically a suite; the bath was the size of a small bedroom, with tub and a huge separate glass enclosed shower.  I had two twin beds on one side of the room and a large semi-circular sofa and coffee table on the other.  Exhausted by the dinner, I changed into my pajamas (lovely black woollies from Australia) and was snuggled up in bed when the doorbell to my room rang.  A few minutes before, it had been the maid wanting to turn my bed down, so without much thought I flung upon the door to see what might be next.  I was greeted by one of the University deans and 4 of his Ph.D. students, who had come to greet me farewell. Since the woolies looked like the black blouse and slacks I had been wearing that evening, they seemed to think that I was still dressed, and so I invited them in to find out what the visit was about.  They wanted to take some group pictures!  I had to explain that there was no way I was going to have my picture taken with them while I was in pajamas and would have to change.  Everyone laughed and nodded, and the men trouped into the bathroom together.  I stared at the lady sitting demurely on the couch, and she explained that they were getting out of the way so that I could get dressed!  So I did, we called them back and everyone took turns having their photographs taken.  Turns out that they had visited David and Joan first, so this was some sort of adorable Chinese custom.

Perhaps this glimpse of formal overwhelm will stand for all the other times and events, because words just won’t convey what I felt and experienced.  Will try a brief summary later.

Jr