After a long boring afternoon hanging out with Chris Bentley(sigh) it was finally time to go to my very first Chinese dinner party. This event was to welcome us to the new school year at Beijing New Oriental School of Foreign Language at Taixing. I was not looking forward to it, as I did not know anyone and the only things I could say in Chinese were "I don't understand" and "I want beer". I mentally prepare myself for the worst, awful food, awkward silences and being scrutinized by all my new colleagues, the Chinese teachers.

Like everything else in the Chinese culture the place where we were eating made no sense at all, it was taking place on the third floor of a completely unused building. Why not the first? Christ why not the second, I have given up on trying to make sense of the Chinese mentality. My friend and I have even come up with a term to describe all Chinese things we don't understand, wtc, or welcome to china.

We of course are the last to arrive and everyone is staring, I sigh inwardly this is going to be a long night. Chris being Chris the social butterfly that he is and knowing Chinese from the year of china he has already endured is pressing the flesh with my new boss and some of the swathe of beautiful Chinese teachers that we will be working with. Now I too am surrounded by people vainly trying to introduce themselves to me in broken English because I am white and therefore a mixture between a doctor with a PhD and a rock god. It almost sucks the way they worship me because I really have not earned it, speaking English is not usually a highly sought skill where I come from.

After that painful awkwardness I take my seat next to Chris and the wait staff that work for the school begin bringing out the food. I wince at the smell, it is a mixture between sweat, vinegar and tofu, how I loathe tofu. Never the less I take a small amount of the most desirable food I can see, some fish off of the whole fish in front of me and something that smells like chicken mixed with rice. It is not nearly as bad as I thought it would be, it would be better if you know it was hot and if the water they gave me was cold not steaming, but wtc. I am given a bowl by an old man in a guard uniform, evidently all of the staff including the guards are here, I forget what he introduces himself as but he does fill my bowl with beer so I forgive him of his obvious lack of English. With perfectly good glasses I don't know why I am drinking from a bowl, but I notice everyone else is so I partake as well. Only to be immediately refilled by the man, who will be henceforth be called Wild Mike the party guard, we toast again to something I don't understand and down another bowl. He beats me to finish again. I did not think Chinese people could drink but this man could hang with the best Canadian alcoholic.

He refills me again, oh dear, this could be a more exciting night than I thought. This time I see my new boss, the principal, raise his bowl and everyone follows his example Chris whispers to me that we have just been officially welcomed and everyone downs there beer bowl. If you are counting that is 3 very large bowls of Chinese beer in about the first seven minutes. Although not quite as strong as Canadian beer the rapid pace has me beginning to feel it. I put down my bowl to try to get some respite from the drinking after all I really haven't eaten anything yet and everything has started to look a little more appetizing to my somewhat hazy eyes. Except Wild Mike is back and has brought a friend, a chef who has cooked our meal by the smell of him I shake his hand and catch a look of fear from Chris and he shakes his head no. I look back to the chef he smiles calls me something that I later find out is one step below “fellow rapist”, he gives my genitals a quick cup, pats me on the back and walks away.

To hell with taking some respite, I need more beer after being molested like that, I take my once again full bowl and down it in one pull, if I am going to be taken advantage of I want a viable excuse. My bowl is filled again by Wild Mike I eye him suspiciously while he is aggressively serving me drinks. This does not happen to me often and the big smile on his face betrays his desire: Make an ass out of the white guy in front of all of his peers and colleagues on his first day meeting everyone. Well I will show him, I grab the bowl and hammer back another one, having only seen Chris drink before; I will show these jerks how a real Canadian drinks.

Chris has brought a new friend to meet he is yet another Chinese English teacher and he seems to be one of the few sober ones left. We shake hands and he tells us in bad English that he would like us to give him an English name. I being in a foul frame of mind and of twisted personality say the first terrible name that comes to my head. “JIB”! Chris begins laughing as a newly minted and perplexed Jib looks at us both. Chris tells him in Chinese that it is a regular Canadian name and it is a fine name for him. Satisfied Jib sits down and pours us both more beer but not him. There looks to be a growing conspiracy of people who are trying to get me drunk and I yell this for no reason in particular.

Chris seems concerned at my lack of regard for the safety of myself and those around me, he knows when I get drunk without eating (still haven't managed that) that I hurt people and break things. I wave off his fear, I will be fine it is weak Chinese beer after all. I look down at my once again full beer and look at the clock; it is only a half hour in and I am already getting wrecked. I glare balefully at my assailant. He is a bad man and I do not like him. I push myself away from the table and go in search of less dangerous individuals, only to be blocked by the man I will call Raply for his tendencies toward lewd behavior. He shakes my hand again, only this time he holds on for about two minutes, I pull myself away, wild mike is not so bad after all. He smiles and hands me yet another bowl filled with liquid disaster, this is not good.

I tell wild mike in what is now also broken English that he is a not as bad as others in the room and smile as he toasts me and downs his beer. I suck it up for I am Alex Murray, world class drinker after all and another beer is on its way to what is increasingly a full stomach. If only it was a stomach that had some food in it. Faces are beginning to blur together and everyone shifts formlessly in my vision. I shake my head and close my eyes, reopening them the vision is less cloudy but I have now lost count of the number of drinks I have had. I notice that the plates have been cleared, I guess some time has passed and some people including my new boss have left.

My bowl which has been pretty much constantly full the entire night lies empty and despondent on the ground beside me. I kick it, for it is a stupid bowl and I don't like it. My bowl is picked up by one of the serving staff left and she replaces it with a new bowl and fills it with more beer. Chris, that asshole, approaches me with his own bowl of beer and loudly exclaiming “to Canada” he downs his own bowl whilst I, again, am struggling to not only finish mine but to manage it while staying on my feet. I look at the clock and to my bitter disappointment it is only 9 o clock and I am fucked-in-half drunk.

Wild mike, the persistent bastard that he is, returns to my side and refills me, and again I drink, my stomach voices its protests in the form of shooting pains. I hope it is not my kidneys or liver and summarily ignore it. I have more important matters to attend to, like not falling off my chair and breathing at the same time. Wild mike takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one offering them around the table, everyone takes one including me even though there is a warning bell in the back of my head warning of this danger.

I don't smoke. I never really have smoked mostly because I get violently ill and throw up all over the place when I smoke. Chris sees what is about to happen and starts to push his way through the people around the table desperately trying to avert the coming disaster. Unfortunately, he is too slow, wild mike lights me and I inhale deeply…

“Oh no” I shudder.

Welcome to china I think to myself.

I cover my face with my hands frantic to quell the coming storm. There are some things that can't be stopped though and I vomit out of my mouth and nose, “BBBBBLLLLAAAAAGGGHHHH”! It is not at all fun. Now covered in my own puke, I stagger to my feet and Chris hurriedly rushes me to the door throwing my smoke on a plate while he runs past the table. We make it out the door and into the stairwell…

“Oh dear,” I whisper.

“Bbbbbbbbbbblllllllaaaaaaagggghhhh”.

I throw up again, narrowly missing Chris, and it lands at the top of the stairs. The sight and smell of my mess is making my stomach turn. I bend over to dry heave but slip in my own vomit and fall into the puddle. It is not like I wasn't covered in it anyway. I start giggling to myself and Chris no longer wants to help me as there is not an easily recognizable puke free part of my body but urges me to get up anyway, telling me I have to get back to my room before the principal sees me. Somehow I get to my feet and lurch down the stairs and across the street to my complex.

Chris makes sure I am securely ensconced in my room and tells me he has to check something in our office. I barely acknowledge him and start undressing. I clamber into the shower and turn it on letting the water course over my semi comatose body. Cold water…. very, very cold water. My eyes snap open. Not good, I have to reach the tap. The surge of adrenaline shoves me to my feet and I am able to finish the shower without incident. Now fully awake from the soul shattering cold water, I get dressed in clean clothes and leave my apartment. I have my honor to redeem.

I end up back on the third floor with wild mike drinking another bowl of beer 10 minutes after that. This time I refuse the cigarette he offers and watch amused as Chris bursts in to the dining hall. I get up and wave and then fall back, missing my chair. Chris picks me up and informs me that it is a good idea to go to bed. I wave it off, he is practically as drunk as I am anyway, but I do agree that fresh air would be best. We both drink one more and head downstairs and outside. I spot a bike with a large towing basket with its own wheels on the back. I look at Chris. He looks at me and it is another one of the many times we have the same plan. I hop on the front and he climbs in the back and starts throwing gravel at me, urging me to go faster. Faster it is I pump the pedals and turn wildly around a bush that materialized in front of me. Chris is screaming for me to go faster. I oblige him by breaking off one of the pedals in my enthusiasm to accelerate. I look up, yes this is a hill, and jerk the handle bars sideways already picking up momentum, I forget about the brakes and ram over a curb and through a bush.

I wake up in my own bed. Well, that's a bonus, at least. I reek of sweat and sickness, however, and I get up and look around my room. Trying to get away from the smell, I leave and am drawn by a very similar smell in the laundry room. Apparently, I tried to do laundry because not only does my room smell awful, but it does as well. I also get a good glaring from a passing woman who I can only assume had to clean up one of my many messes. Looking out the window into the courtyard, there lays a seriously fucked up bike with a fuming owner dragging it back up a hill.

Welcome To China

by Alex Murray