Illustration by Mike Padilla

HEFEI - Before I began my trip to Asia this summer, I mentally prepared myself for the food here, knowing that the Chinese eat everything except the kitchen sink.

In order to embrace the cultural experience to the fullest, I decided to eat anything that was put in front of me with the exception of civet cats, which are believed to be the source of SARS.

Last Thursday at 4:30, my friend called me with an urgent message: "Please tell me you're free right now; we've been invited to a banquet."

Ten minutes later I hopped into a taxi with my friend, on my way to my first banquet.

When I arrived at the house, I met the host, Mr. Hu, a pianist whose friends proudly proclaim he looks like Chairman Mao, one of the founders of the Communist Party of China.

His guests: my friend and I; an English teacher who hardly spoke any English; Mr. Xie, a principal who sold his house to set up a school for the children of migrant workers and Xie's nephew, a painter.

With only a few dishes on the table, I thought the dinner would be a quick one, in and out, with enough time afterwards to take a nap in anticipation of the 3 a.m. showing of the Euro 2004 soccer semifinals.

Five hours later, in my inebriated state, it took all the energy I could muster not to stumble out the door.

As I sat in the taxi on the way back to the hotel, I took note of a few rules to keep in mind for the next banquet, scheduled for the next day.

Keren Raz Columnist

Rule No. 1: Eat, then ask.

Banquet hosts pride themselves on being able to serve the nicest dishes. Refusing a dish is out of the question.

I tried to start the meal off safely with what looked like tender chicken strips soaked in a red sauce.

As soon as I took a bite, I realized it wasn't chicken.

Turns out I had swallowed pig's stomach.

Next, Mr. Xie filled everyone's bowl with duck soap.

"Do you want the head?" my friend whispered to me.

I glanced down into her bowl and looked right into the eyes of the duck we were eating.

I passed on the head and looked into my own bowl to discover that I had been given the liver.

Not wanting to offend anyone, I ate it ... very slowly.

After the last piece, I realized it wasn't as bad as it originally seemed.

Rule No. 2: You're going to drink, no matter what.

Unfamiliar at first with drinking rules at a banquet, I planned to stick with tea as the men poured themselves glasses of 90-proof liquor.

But one hour into the meal the men at the table wanted to test my musical ability. To get out of playing the piano, I said I would rather have Mr. Hu play.

"Only if you drink with him," they said. A huge pack of beer arrived at the apartment, and at that point I had no choice.

In order to follow the banquet rules, I had to drink.

According to banquet tradition, you have to toast everyone at the dinner table. If the person you toast says "Gan bei," you have to empty your glass, which Mr. Xie made sure was always full.

A few "gan bei's" later, I was drunk.

Rule No. 3: The dining room is your garbage can.

At the banquet a plastic sheet covered the dining room table, where we dropped our pig, fish and duck bones.

Mr. Xie cleaned his teeth with his toothpick and then flung the chunks of food on to the floor.

In the states, Chinese restaurants give you serving spoons for each dish. At the banquet, everyone ate out of the plates in the middle of the table using the spoons and chopsticks that had already been in their mouths.

China is a germophobe's nightmare.

I have walked through foul-smelling markets where I had to step around massive piles of dead squid and bloody pig bones.

A couple days ago I joined a group of girls shelling crayfish. After killing the crayfish by pulling the heads off the bodies, we left the heads littering the ground and put the bodies into big tubs.

The general lack of hygiene here is hard to stomach. But in order to be culturally sensitive and not the haughty foreigner that locals expect, I've had to lighten up.

So I grab the medicine, step over the remains and eat what's in front of me without asking.

Those are the rules here.

Keren Raz, a former Daily Wildcat news editor, will be writing on her travels in Asia throughout the summer. She is an English and Political Science senior and can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.