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Published: December 19th 2005
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Christmas Crowd
Some of the Christmas Revelers, including the dancing twins and the wild accordionist There’s an old saying that has helped me get through some uncertain times: “When it seems like you are enveloped in darkness and don’t know where to turn, you’ll find there is usually enough light to take the first step.” I had no idea where things would lead when Sean and I announced we were having a Christmas party but sure enough, we found the way.
The Hangzhou Harmonica Band was a real help. Mr. He Yin, an 80-year-old English-speaking member was delighted to receive my offer to play. He even stopped by one day, unannounced, to inspect the venue, but I wasn’t home, so he called me on his cell. In fact, during the 10 days before the party, he called three times, every time going like this: “Hello John, this is He Yin, I am 80-years-old. You came two days ago to my house. Do you remember me?”
The man is a hoot. He wanted to see how big the apartment was and asked if he could bring five people. I assured him that five would fit, along with the other guests.
Last night, he showed up with nine. “Some family members insisted that they come,” he said.
Party Boys
Your hosts, John and Sean. At this point in the party planning process, I’d gotten used to this. During the two weeks before, all sorts of people were inviting themselves. A reporter for some magazine, visiting Y+ on a story, wanted to come. We agreed. “She wants to know if she can publish the invitation in the magazine,” Mary said. That, we agreed, would be going a little too far. She did it anyway.
We’d told people to come at 7 and Sean was pretty sure people would be on time. He was teaching till 6:30, so I had to handle things on my own for a bit. The first knock came at 6:40. Shit! I’d just finished cooking spaghetti sauce when an old man, 84, came in with his daughter. I had no idea who they were. I still don’t.
By 7 others had arrived. Our acupuncturist Wang came with two women who had agreed to demonstrate the Chinese Tea Ceremony and some traditional water-color calligraphy. At that point, the chaos began. In minutes I’d distributed all 20 Santa hats. As it was a potluck, people were opening bags and spilling stuff across the table. There were full hands of bananas and boxes of oranges, bags of kumquats and longans, dried this and preserved that. One cake decorated “Happy X-Max.” Lay’s International-flavor potato chips. Pork skins. Chestnuts and Chinese dates. Connie brought live shrimp, wiggling in a bag. Lindi, an American, brought bread pudding, something many guests refused to try and something I dug deeply into. Sean made glug, fortified with spiced vodka. Someone brought Super Sugar Crisp cereal. There were Chinese cheetos, Japanese candies, jello confections, rice krispy treats and custard twinkie look-alikes. When I saw the pumpkin seeds, I hid them in the kitchen. The remains of a few snak-sized bags were left in a chewed pile on the table, making it look like a squirrel had eaten lunch. (Sean and I joked, when people asked what to bring. “No seeds,” we said, knowing they’d make an instant mess. Please, God, don’t let them discover Chew.) There was bean salad, chickpeas, rolls filled with pork floss. Like I said, pot luck.
I instructed people to help themselves to beer and wine. They hardly touched the stuff and by the end of the night I was giving out beverage gifts. I gave Mr. He a bottle of wine. “Oh, no,” he said. “This is expensive. It is much too generous.” It was $2.50 a bottle. I told him to share it with his band. “This night has exceeded my expectations and brings much joy to my heart,” he said.
The band was great. After the tea demo, they struck up. While I had wanted them to do some Christmas music, it didn’t happen. The accordionist dropped the ball “I gave him strict instructions to memorize the music,” Mr. He implored, “but he has forgotten.” Instead they wanted to play Oh Susanna. I googled the lyrics as they warmed up with Auld Lang Syne. Lindi, a voice major in college, joined me in the folk song. We were both surprised at the off-color nature of that song. It’s rough. Still, the band played on. They played a so-called “Canadian Folk Song” that Joshua the Canadian didn’t recognize. They played Hail to the Chief. They eked out Jingle Bells, a song even the Chinese English speakers could muddle through. Then they played some Chinese songs and got the whole crowd stirred up.
The foreigners returned the favor with Deck the Halls, acapella. The Chinese joined us in a passable version of “Sirent Night”. I sang hard and on the Tenth Day of Christmas I nearly passed out. “Fiiiiiiiivvvvvveeeeee Gollllllllldennnnnnnnnn Rinnnnnnnggggggs!”
Carols done, the harmonicas kicked up, without what Mr. He called “Sonic Amplification.” One dude brought a sax. Two 19-year-old twins in Santa hats did an arm-swaying traditional dance. Another played a double-decker harmonica.
I pushed drinks on people to get the alcohol consumed. They were too busy singing! There was trash everywhere. Shrimp remains and disposable chopsticks littered the floor. Someone spilled wine, no one used napkins. Somehow, no one smoked, but still one woman was pouting in the corner and another dude was trying to pick up one of the Y+ staff.
Then by 9:30 people were starting to filter out. At 10 it was just the band and the Y+ crowd. By 11, nearly everyone was gone and by midnight, the house was clean. Everyone left with a smile and thumbs up. Joshua summed it up. “This was great,” he said, “two very different cultures, sharing with each other.”
Now all I have to do find a home for those Pork-Flavored Pringles.
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LJ
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John, all I can say is "awesome." In some ways sounds so much like some encounters I had in the Phils. Just awesome! Wish the heck I coulda been there! :-)