AN ORIENTAL CHRISTMAS

Manawatu Standard, Volume LIII, Issue 16, 16 December 1932, Page 12

AN ORIENTAL CHRISTMAS

'’Christmas comes but once a year, but when it comes, it brings good cheer.” Perhaps. A few years ago, I was “fortunate” enough to be travelling on a largo transpacific liner, which was due at an Oriental port three days before Christmas (says a travelier in an overseas journal). Among the passengers were four Chinese business men, who had just completed a tour of Canada and the States. Accompanying them was a gentleman from New York, representative of a large financial house. A shipboard friendship was struck up between them, tlis ship’s staff captain, and my’self, and just before arriving at port our Chinese extended us a hearty invitation to have Christmas dinner with them. Needless to say the novelty of the invitation attracted us, and we had no hesitation in accepting their kind offer. On Christmas Day, a palatial steam yacht called for us at our pier, shortly after 10 a.m., and in high gLee we were 60on on our way. At a beautiful residence we were met by our hosts, including the New Yorker. Our first initiation of an Oriental Christmas came in the shape of a liquid, which we were asked to drink, and which by no stretch of the imagination couid be considered a product of Scotland. The programme started almost immediately with the singing of songs by a number of young ladies, speciallv employed for the occasion. The songs appeared to make a huge hit with our hosts, but our reaction was that of a slightly intoxicated man, suddenly placed in a revolving bed. After the regular preliminaries, including refreshments of real Caledonian vintage, we got under way. Cutlery was provided, as also were the proverbial chop sticks; but as the first service was in the form of soup, we had to fall back on a Not so our good friends. Tho- manipulated the timbers in style. Various other dishes wer> served, good, bad, and indifferent. One dish in particular looked exactly like an eye. It was known as pigeon’s eve, but was really

a thick, hot jelly. It did everything but wink at you. A little brandy was all that saved the situation. At this moment our singing friends took their places, directly behind each guest, and sang “sweet” songs into our ears. The European part of the menu now arrived and we had our innings. Everything was there, from soup to nuts. Then came an intermission, as it were, for about an hour, with singing, smoking, and judiciously dispensed cocktails. The singing was prepared by the hired songsters, who never left their places behind our chairs. Meantime, the waiters were busy, and before long we found another Oriental delicacy staring us in the face —Birdsnest. _ Seemingly we were about to start all over again. Sampling the birds nest and almost losing it, we next discovered ourselves trving sharksfins, then cake of all kinds, multicoloured and otherwise, fruit, pomelos (after which one requires a bath), tea without cream or sugar. What a godsend a coffee royal would have been then ? The waiters kept us supplied with mineral waters, while the ladies continued to sing for us; and in the wee sma’ hours” we bid farewell to our hosts, thanking them for their kindness to strangers in a strange land on a Christmas Day, but, never again 1