A meal with a Chinese family

Freshened up, we set out for a walk, having been invited to dinner by the host family of Josie's friend Emma. This was in an urban residential district, not in any sense "touristy", and it was pleasing to see a "real" side to the city. People were coming back from work; kids were playing in the street. There were little corner shops and there were groups of old men sat outside on stools, enjoying the evening. This, to me, is worth much more than any great monument or "sight-seeing".

Earlier we had been sat at beer as darkness fell, and Emma had expressed some trepidation as to how her host family (a father, mother and little boy of 4) would deal with us. How would they take us? They were very keen to have us over, it seemed - but that fact itself was a slight concern. 

Our hostess was a lady in her early thirties; her son a typical four year old boy (that is, a bundle of energy, all over the place with toy guns that spark, never still for a moment). We sat on the settee in their spacious eighth floor apartment (living room, dining area, kitchen with no outside wall, two bathrooms and three bedrooms) and chatted over nibbles and drinks. Then her husband arrived home from work, changed, and introduced himself. 

English was in short supply, but enthusiasm, welcome and good cheer more than made up for the language barrier. Soon enough we were sat down at table for a delicious meal of home-cooked chinese food, and drinking a 2009 Bordeaux...out of shot glasses. Strong spirits also were served, and there were frequent toasts (and this practice is something that westerners coming to China are warned about). Mine host was gracious relaxed in this matter, however, and chose not to notice that I only sipped at the spirits rather than necked my glass every time he proposed a toast.

After dinner there was more relaxed chat, whilst we were entertained by the antics of the 4-year old. Children in China don't keep English hours, and there was no suggestion that it should soon be bedtime for the lad, as there might have been in the UK.

The evening finished with some piano playing and some staged singing and demonstrations of musical skill from the little boy, of whom his parents clearly had high hopes. Tired, we made our excuses and went on our way. They were quite happy with that, well aware that we had had a long day of travelling.