On a chilly Friday evening in Xining, a week before Xmas, a festive party was held for the foreign students and teachers of our university at one of the swankiest resorts in town, the 2-star Xining Hotel.
Oh, yes.
Staff had spent the night before decorating the main dining hall. A bemused santa stood in the doorway, and tinsel and balloons wobbled in the hot air spiralling up from the hot plates of the pink-faced noodle-makers.
The backdrop to the stage was a map of the world with flags marking those countries from which the university could claim to have students and teachers. I remember the Union Jack (of course), Ireland, and Sudan.
If the size of the flag was in proportion to the number of students/teachers -- which it wasn't -- the South Korean Taegeukgi should have been a giant number. Most of our students are South Korean (and suspect missionaries) complete with children, tennis racquets, and of course the word of God.
It was touching, as a lot of effort had gone into this party which was gloriously free of pomp and circumstance and the word "talent".
Some of the foreigners performed but happily there was no national anthem or painful renditions of Tang Dynasty poetry. Instead we had a very hot Mongolian dancer, a very lovely pipa solo, African Gangnam Style and an appalling YMCA dance in which YMCA was inconceivably misspelled in body parts.
When most of the guests had gone and the staff were beginning to clear away the dirty plates and smeared glasses, someone put Gangnam style back on. It sparked a wondrous free-for-all on the stage. A couple of the waitresses, who were clearly Gangnam stylees, got right into it -- sexy lady! Even our Tibetan teacher did a little horse trot which she skillfully morphed into the windmill style dance beloved of all Tibetans everywhere. One chef trotted across the stage to a burst of applause.
It brought tears to my eyes.
That's Gangnam Style for you. Xmas in Xining (part two!).
Oh, yes.
Staff had spent the night before decorating the main dining hall. A bemused santa stood in the doorway, and tinsel and balloons wobbled in the hot air spiralling up from the hot plates of the pink-faced noodle-makers.
The backdrop to the stage was a map of the world with flags marking those countries from which the university could claim to have students and teachers. I remember the Union Jack (of course), Ireland, and Sudan.
If the size of the flag was in proportion to the number of students/teachers -- which it wasn't -- the South Korean Taegeukgi should have been a giant number. Most of our students are South Korean (and suspect missionaries) complete with children, tennis racquets, and of course the word of God.
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| The Xmas Sacrificial Lamb |
It was touching, as a lot of effort had gone into this party which was gloriously free of pomp and circumstance and the word "talent".
Some of the foreigners performed but happily there was no national anthem or painful renditions of Tang Dynasty poetry. Instead we had a very hot Mongolian dancer, a very lovely pipa solo, African Gangnam Style and an appalling YMCA dance in which YMCA was inconceivably misspelled in body parts.
 |
| The Hot Mongolian |
When most of the guests had gone and the staff were beginning to clear away the dirty plates and smeared glasses, someone put Gangnam style back on. It sparked a wondrous free-for-all on the stage. A couple of the waitresses, who were clearly Gangnam stylees, got right into it -- sexy lady! Even our Tibetan teacher did a little horse trot which she skillfully morphed into the windmill style dance beloved of all Tibetans everywhere. One chef trotted across the stage to a burst of applause.
It brought tears to my eyes.
That's Gangnam Style for you. Xmas in Xining (part two!).
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