The Man from Beijing

AARGH. Late last week I was told by the husband that he was inviting a man, fresh from China, an English speaker, but new to the the states, for lunch or dinner or whatever the Mandarin version is for a Sunday noon meal. He is a pastor of a home church in Beijing, (which is still pretty much underground), here to study, in a new country with no family here yet. How could I refuse? I may be feeling grumpy, or even mean, but I am not totally heartless.

It turns out the man from Beijing has a completely unpronouncable name and we settled for John.  "John" brought along a sealed clear plastic package with a hand towel as a gift. I like it, but who brings a beige hand towel as a hostess gift? A Man from Beijing! At first glance I imagined it to be a golf towel and thought that was a thoughtful token of appreciation for the husband. I discovered the towel after he left, so I didn't actually have to fake being gracious or mask my incredulity or anything.

Saturday I was just finishing the task of putting the last boxes of Christmas decor back into basement storage and had not yet removed the extra large, backyard-cut tree from the sun room. I was not that motivated to finish the post-Christmas cleanup and vacuuming of evergreen needles. Lacking energy, low on winter light and sunshine, broke from extra spending over the holidays and with only a modest amount of money left in the "food" account, I was forced to decide what to make for Beijing Man. The husband was not at all helpful. He has been to China four times or so and could only offer, "they eat like crap! They eat anything!" I bought a bag of rice from the Asian aisle of the supermarket, rinsed out my rice cooker that had been unused since my year of living leaner and decided to cook broccoli and chicken with the famous chicken divan lemon/curry sauce.

I noticed that "John" kept the rice separate, but also ate the "casserole" sauce, taking seconds of both. He did not say it was good, but seemed generally appreciative of our hospitality. He admitted that he does the cooking at home and promised to cook for us one day. I can hardly wait...

My Tea Stash, including Tea Party tea

I had searched through my tea assortment for some oolong. I found some circa 2008 tea that the husband brought back from China. Is that too old? I didn't dare to risk it, but I was not going to buy special tea for one dinner. We offered coffee, but served him filtered tap water, no ice.

 I had prepared a sweet vinegar-marinated bowl of sliced seedless cucumbers and thinly sliced red onions. He didn't try that. I served no dessert. Sometimes they have fruit after a dinner in a restaurant, he explained, when I asked. I should have had some dinner rolls or something.

I bought for Erica in Hong Kong - 06

I did not want to give him the impression that we are well-to-do, but I am sure that by his standards, we are. He noticed our new car. The husband quickly deflected, explaining that it was a leased car. He wanted to know how much it costs to lease such a car. The husband quickly responded, "That's not a question you should ask."

Rebecca bought for me - 08

I did try to be a little classy, providing him with a nicely ironed white table napkin to use, although he had gone to church in just blue jeans and a rumpled, dishwater-colored shirt. His wife is coming soon. Perhaps he cooks, but does not wash or iron!

 (I would be curious to know what he might write about us in his journal or blog...)

The husband had said not to stress about anything. I suggested, for example, that I should at least have the bathroom and kitchen tidy. He said, "you should see the bathrooms in Beijing! Don't worry about it." "John" did not need  to use the john. I thought about way more stuff than I needed too... In the bathroom we keep a non-descript refillable spray bottle of green mouthwash (nifty idea?). Thinking he might mistake it for room deodorant spray, I cleared the deck of anything that might be confusing. I have experienced how awkward it can be to not know the rules in another culture.

The husband said it went well enough. "John's" good English skills helped. We made a call to the 93-year-old grandma who was able to speak to him with a bit of Mandarin. Her son (the husband) was conceived in China, but cannot speak even a sentence of Mandarin, learned in utero or heard since birth.

John would like his daughter to attend a good, safe high school when she arrives. A year's tuition at a private or Christian school here would approach the amount of an average yearly salary in Beijing. At that rate, he will need help or have to make hard choices while he is living here.

Here is a photo of the same basic chicken/broccoli recipe, served over rice, that I made last month. I did not smother it with cheddar cheese for Beijing John, however. I think that would have been a mean thing to do, but who really knows?

Stove top chicken & broccoli over rice