Exhibited in Chagan Lake - rampant baijiu

MAY 15, 2007: It was supposed to be an occasion where we played foreign dignitaries. Unfortunately it seems the most unassailable equation -- dignitary + baijiu = indignity -- is not part of the curriculum here. More photos

The headmaster of San-Zhong High School (the school i hate teaching at) wanted to take us to lunch at Chagan Lake. Or so we were told. He wasn't there, and the occasion was certainly not a lunch for us. It was, in fact, a meeting of the head teachers from all the schools in the area to receive and discuss the recent exam results. I suspect our role was to be exhibits supporting the High School's claim that it had foreign teachers.

Nonetheless, the meal that followed was worth the trip. It was nothing short of ridiculous. Within a couple of minutes of our arrival at the table the 3m-diameter Lazy Susan was covered with dishes. And that was before they brought out "The Big One". While i'm not sure exactly what type of fish it was, what i saw before my eyes was that it took 3 waiters to carry it in on three giant plates the best part of a metre long each.

I have no idea how they would cook such a fish. Maybe they have a specially-made oven. The brute was about 30kg of snowy-white flesh between 8 people, yet still the dishes kept coming. So many, in fact, that a few minutes later "The Big One" was completely buried except for his head. Which just shows what a naked display of wealth the whole exercise was and how little interest the organisers had in the actual enjoyment of the meal. They didn't really need to try too hard for that though. There were at least six different types of fish on the table (only 3 or 4 accessible), all of them supreme.


Then for a reminder of the harmony with which China occupies this part of Mongolia. (A boss-dude explained to me the area was once occupied by the imperial Japanese, and then added that the place "used to be part of Mongolia".) This blue silk-clad Mongolian with a cowboy hat and more hairs on his chin than all the Chinese in Jilin Province came out with this 2-string cello. This guy was a general. No cold metal microphone stand for him, he had a live, human one. He started with some long, droning strokes of his bow, then came the vocals. I say 'vocals', not singing because they varied between death metal and Islamic prayer-time, high-pitched bird noises and a didgeridoo. Then the cello music suddenly changed to this kind of barn-dance music for about 20 seconds. Then it was over. He cast the cello aside, took the microphone and became an average karaoke/wedding singer. Guess there's only so much Mongolian droning a Han Chinese can take...



Predictably, we were obliged to drink baijiu. I was getting a bit sloshed towards midday, when we left. But as we said goodbye to the nearly-untouched "The Big One", it was impossible to avoid the idea that people might actually starve in some parts of this country. The table was still piled so high with food that i really hope the hotel management has that terrible policy of feeding live-in staff customers leftovers.

We had previously been told there would be no classes today on account of the 'occasion'. But that idea was shattered when it was revealed they scheduled us in for classes at the headquarters in the afternoon. So, to get out of having to teach classes we had to drink.

We grabbed two bottles of baijiu for the ensuing boat ride and temple visit. Only problem: all the other foreigners decided to be filthy liars and play up how drunk they were. Leaving me the only one honest enough to actually get plastered beyond redemption.

Then it was back to headquarters to rampage around drunk (me) or 1/4 drunk (everyone else). Boxxy spent a good hour or so trying to get me to go home, during which time i managed to kick a hole in our office wall.

Asleep by 6pm. Vomiting by 3am. Fucked the whole next day. Baijiu is toxic. Stay away from it.