C - a dinner to remember

Since we first met the student that was assigned to help D and I learn how to function in Dalian, she's mentioned the possibility of us having dinner with her parents at their home. (Her parents live in Dalian, so unlike many of her classmates, our friend doesn't have to undertake a multiple-day train ride to get to school in the fall.) Apparently this past weekend was convenient for all parties involved, so plans were made for us to be picked up at our apartment and driven to her parent's apartment by her father. I was terribly nervous about this meeting, and since D and I seemed to be both coming down with a cold, I thought we could put it off awhile longer. No such luck, though -- D confirmed the plans when he saw Sylvia the day before for the banking fiasco.

The dinner ended up being held at a restaurant, since Sylvia's aunt, uncle, and cousin apparently also wanted to have a peek at the long-nosed white devils (hehe, kidding) that their niece was spending so much time with, and her parents' apartment wasn't large enough to hold eight people. Her parents chose a seafood restaurant, the kind where you pick your own food while it's still alive and kicking. We find it hard enough to choose dishes given our limited exposure to Chinese cuisine and usually prefer the natives to order for us, so imagine our difficulty overcoming both our lack of knowledge of what's good and what's bad AND our feeling that we were in some sort of aquarium or zoo instead of a restaurant.

We eventually selected some dishes and ultimately had a delicious dinner. Of course, the evening wouldn't be complete without a few social gaffes on my part. Upon learning that Sylvia's aunt was an economics professor, I insensitively asked "So do you think China's currency should be allowed to float on the open market?" But this is essentially asking her aunt whether she toes the party line or not, which of course she does. I've found that even if a Chinese individual isn't a party member, they're not comfortable showing disagreement with the CCP while in the presence of a foreigner.

Then I had the insatiable urge to pick some food out of my teeth, which is apparently the number-one no-no when it comes to Chinese table manners. Every website on Chinese manners that I've even seen clearly states that if one must use a toothpick, the mouth should be covered by the non-picking hand. Well, despite reading it a dozen times in the past few months, I forgot this rule, and even though I don't think anyone noticed, I still felt dumb.

One good thing that happened during the dinner was being called by our Chinese names. (D's is 长天，pronounced sort of like "chahng tee-en", and mine is 秋水, pronounced sort of like "chew shway"). Our names come from a line of a famous chinese poem and are very romantic, because the poem says that in the fall, the water and sky combine to form one color. (秋水共长天一色). But our names don't get a lot of use, so it was fun to see them serving their purpose.

And here is a photo of the happy dining party:



Sylvia is on D's left, her parents are next to me, and her aunt and uncle are to their right.