In 1994, I signed an eighteen month contract with the Beijing Broadcasting Institute-- located in a distant suburb of Beijing. In addition to lecturing classes
in Communication, Journalism, and English, I was expected to teach radio and television news-anchoring to fifteen of China’s top English-speaking Chinese students.
my role as the Broadcasting Institute’s first American Communication Specialist, Chinese Leaders rolled out the traditional “red carpet” to host an elaborate banquet in my honor. The crowded cafeteria teemed with excitement as
the Institute’s Staff, Chinese teachers and students, previewed the endless array of special foods. The only American item on the table was Coca Cola, served just for me. I tried to overlook the fact that the can placed in my hand was warm
and the top of the can had something brown and sticky clinging to its top.
As dish after dish of handmade delicacies were placed in front of me, I didn’t see anything that looked
at-all familiar. In an attempt to be sociable, I knew I must sample a few of the mysterious dishes; I felt everyone in the room looking at me.
I had no choice but turn away
from the black fish, its head cleverly decorated with seaweed and slugs and its vacant, dead eyes staring directly at me. And, the very sight of the soft pink, jellied squid with each long-reaching tentacle artfully-grasping a slice of watermelon-- turned
my stomach. But then, when I spotted a familiar bowl of rice, I smiled with instant relief. I remarked to myself: “Yes! I like Rice so—I’ll eat Rice!”
Chinese eye in the room was watching, waiting for me to take my first bite. Everyone wanted me to show how much I appreciated this very-personal and elaborate banquet. Then-- before taking my first bite of rice-- I suddenly felt the need to take a second look
at those dark, brownish decorations (I assumed they were raisins) lavishly dotting the top of the rice. Oh, no! The decorations were actively moving, squirming in and out of the grains of rice! Horrified, I attempted to move the questionable items to one side
of the bowl but... they merely stretched--full-length--and began crawling up my chop sticks!
In response to my sudden squeal, the student seated on my right remarked excitedly in
English: “Oh, teacher, I’m so happy you like the silk worms. These Chinese delicacies were purchased--- just for you! Once you finish your first bowl of rice, there’s another bowl waiting and it's all yours!"
It didn’t take long to realize --almost anything/everything is considered “edible” in China. I readily admit I'm very particular about what I put in my mouth and...I refuse to eat anything
that's "still alive"-- moving--or staring back at me!
If it hadn’t been for two American Restaurants —McDonald’s and Kentucky Fried Chicken---both opened in the
"heart" of Beijing just two months before I moved to China---I would have starved to death.