I recently returned from a trip to China, where I visited Shanghai, Beijing and Hong Kong. It was an unexpected gift from life.

As I get older, I find myself less inclined to want to make new friends. Perhaps it is laziness, I enjoy my comfort zone — and I’ve grown leery of letting outsiders in. But since I started this blog, my goal has been transformation. When a new acquaintance invited me to join her on her trip, I decided to take a risk. Little could I have imagine.

The savvy business woman who invited me on my first trip to the Orient likes to joke she is just like “Winnie the Pooh.” Her name is Winnie. She was born in China, immigrated to Hong Kong in her early twenties, where she married, took over her father’s businesses, and divorced.

Winnie’s son Mana recently received his MBA from Drexel University and moved to Shanghai with his new wife to rediscover his culture. Being the good mother she is, Winnie wanted to visit him and settle him in.

Mana and his wife Camilla remind me of myself in my late twenties. So sweet and brave. Moving to the place your parents are from without a full grasp of the language and culture, unaware of the possibility of danger or failure – only full of a desire to uncover yourself. They were kind enough to take time out from their pursuit of building their life as a new couple — only two months into their marriage — and eat with us. Food is very important in the Chinese culture.

Eating was the vehicle by which I discovered the elegance of China and its people. I broke bread with every new person Winnie introduced me to. Every meal was an exploration into a new relationship.

There are over 50 different types of Chinese cuisine variations. The vast nation has different cities, provinces, and regions, and all have different palates, as well as linguistic dialects. But the most influential and typical known by the public are the ‘Eight Cuisines’ and they are categorized by region — Cantonese, Shandong, Jiangsu, Anhui, Zhejiang, Fujian, Hunan and Sichuan.

Each meal represents a true awakening of the senses, from the lavishness of presentation, to the symphony or aromas and flavors. One thing they all have in common is the custom of making sure food is always on the table. It’s a sign of respect. My mistake was adopting the Latino custom of finishing my plate as a sign of reciprocation – you don’t have to.

The days began with elaborate breakfast buffets consisting of congee, which is a simple and comforting rice porridge, noodle soups mixed with succulent pork or beef, pillowy dumplings filled with minced stuffing, plates of steamed vegetables of every sort, pyramids of watermelon and dragon fruit, and deep fried bread sticks served with soy milk.

I was humbled by the country’s hospitality. We were waited on by beautiful women in brilliant, bright dresses in private rooms. We consumed exotic soups made with turtle, crab legs and salmon iced on platters, snails, chicken feet, and roasted duck, ornately served family style on giant Lazy Susans, so all could be shared. Tea and hot water soothed my glutted belly. I drank great wine. My generous hosts would toast “gānbēi” as an expression of goodwill. The recipient of the toast would then have to finish their glass as a sign of honor. And this would continue throughout the event.

Dinners had the same panache. But I also explored street food. In fact, one night in Beijing we went to what we would call a “dive” here in the U.S. Vice President Joe Biden also visited the restaurant. I wondered if after his meal he walked away arm-in-arm with his hosts along the ancient roads, crowded with contemporary cars, bicycles and pedestrians in the majestic city.

Winnie was kind enough to share her friends with me, and each person was distinctly beautiful and had so much to offer. They wanted me to experience all I could and I fell in love with each of them for their generosity. I visited places I never had the courage to put on my bucket list like the Great Wall and Tiananmen Square. I learned about the country’s television system from an elegant couple, who are well-known figures in China’s media. Another friend of hers took hours out of his day escorting me through the Forbidden City with his sister.  And I will forever be grateful for the day she ran back to me in the train station with a full breakfast, when I had forgotten my passport as we were trying to return back into China from Hong Kong.  She could have left me there for hours, but she didn’t.

 

This journey also provided a new pathway to God. Winnie took me to the Lama Temple to pray with monks. In fact, we visited three Buddhist temples on our trip – one in every city along the way. I went to China with one perspective and was given another, not just about the country, but about myself and life. I learned to let it go and trust life, for it is good.

“”When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”

~ Buddha

I rediscovered the enduring power of friendship in China. Thank you Winnie for inspiring me.

 

 Buen provecho!

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