Nanjing, Day 12 - 干杯

Today has been my first day spent with my host father, mother, and little sister, Jenny. I initially met Jenny inside the Nanjing University cafeteria during the early afternoon. We rode a cab together to her home nearby. Upon our arrival, my host father, or “shu shu”, nonchalantly greeted us downstairs and we—more like he—hauled my overweight suitcase up five flights of cement stairs. As we entered the front door, I caught a fleeting glimpse of my host mother, or “ayi”, scrambling to clean unnoticeably tiny nooks and crannies. Clad in her white morning robe, she bashfully introduced herself with her right hand and continued scrubbing away with her left. As I timidly rolled my suitcase inside, I was comforted by the sweet, smoky smell of duck, or “kaoya”.
 
I felt amazed by the beauty and spaciousness of my host family’s two-story home. The room my ayi has prepared for me looks much like a small four or five-star hotel room. I was enchanted by the many bamboo mats strewn across chairs and loveseats throughout the house. “To keep your seat cool,” Jenny told me. I love thoughtful little touches like that. My shu shu, ayi, Jenny, and I sat down to a traditional Chinese lunch of kaoya, vegetables, and soup. My shu shu laughed hysterically as I told him how my English name means “riverduck”, especially since we were simultaneously chowing down on my namesake. After lunch, all four of us took a rest, or “xiuxi”, which was just what I needed to rejuvenate for our banquet-style dinner to be held later in the evening.  
 
At 6 pm sharp, my shu shu drove my ayi, Jenny, and me to dinner in the family’s new Audi. We arrived to the most elegant restaurant, or “fanguan”, I’ve experienced in China so far. Hostesses wearing qipaos fawned over us at the door and we rode an elevator up to a private party room. A busboy parted two thick wooden doors to expose a room full of my shu shu’s rowdy extended family. Despite the luxurious golden décor and impeccably serviced meal, everyone was letting loose. Middle-aged men were screaming cheers!, or “ganbei!”, while drunkenly colliding glasses of “bai jiu”, a Chinese drink similar to Vodka. Each would proceed to clumsily light a cigarette and slap his neighbor’s thigh with fondness. The women—most of whom were holding small children in their laps—nearly upstaged the men by yelling witty jokes across the table. By the time our plates were cleared, my shu shu’s young nieces were running laps around our table in their chiffon evening dresses. I must say that I’m so pleased to have witnessed this slice of my host family’s life. Despite their presumed wealth and position, they convey a strong sense of lightheartedness and approachability. To say the least, the food was decadent and the casual conversation was even better.


－明丽