Bowled over

By Qiu Yijiao (China Daily)
Updated: 2009-10-22 10:53

Hundreds of visitors join in the excitement of dancing, singing and drinking in a helongyan, a traditional feast of the Dong ethnic group in Huaihua, Hunan province.

I can feel myself getting drunk after just two rounds of wine - a home-made specialty of the Dong minority - the pleasant sweetness of which masks a surprising strength.

Indeed, few can keep a clear mind at the banquet, which the Dong call helongyan, with hundreds of guests dancing, singing - and drinking.

The banquet was part of a local tourism festival held last month to showcase the customs of the Dong, who live mostly in Huaihua, Hunan province.

"Helongyan is a celebration that is irrespective of time and season," says my guide Xiao Xiao, herself a Dong. It is a traditional welcome ceremony to greet visitors from afar.

"In the old days, there weren't so many guests," says Xiao, trying to put the long lines of tables before us in perspective.

The legend behind the helongyan dates back to ancient times. The story goes that once when the Dong's survival was threatened by an epidemic, a local doctor came to their rescue. The villagers expressed their gratitude by bringing out all their food and holding a grand feast.

"Helongyan is actually a thanksgiving," says Xiao.

Long lines of tables set for a huge banquet for visitors from all over the country, at the recent tourism festival held to showcase the customs of the Dong ethnic group.

Like most formal banquets, helongyan begins with a toast by the village head, delivered in the Dong language.

The wine is offered in bowls, and this posed quite a challenge to me, a non-drinker.

After downing the first bowl of wine, I could gradually sense the alcohol, prompting me to break into song.

After we dance around the table hand-in-hand for a while, a second round of wine is imbibed. I am already feeling dizzy and don't think I can survive this round.

"The wine tastes sweet but is very strong," says Xiao. "That's why most guests will find themselves drunk at the end of the meal."

Not that I doubt that one bit.

Even as I dither over whether or not to finish that second bowl, Xiao urges me to drink up.

"Otherwise you are not allowed to sit down and enjoy the food," she jokes.

The dancing, singing and wine quickly gives the peaceful village a carnival feel. The entire village is out joining in the excitement and lighting bonfires.

I hardly manage to look at the food. To be frank, I have no idea what is on the table. All I remember from my first bite is a stinging sour and spicy taste burning my tongue.

The Dong, Xiao tells me, are fond of sour and salty foods. "If I go without sour food for three days, I am sure I will collapse," she says.

"Since we Dong live mostly in the mountains, we tend to pickle fresh meat, fish and vegetables in order to survive the lean months," she adds.

By the time I summon the courage to have another go at the food, more bowls of wine appear. They are asking us to respond with our songs, Xiao explains.

Impressed by their singing, we visitors suddenly find ourselves tongue-tied and every pop song seems to have evaporated from our collective memory.

We look helplessly at one another. As penalty, we have to drink more wine.

Drinking, singing and dancing are clearly dear to the Dong. Both men and women can hold down their drink. Drinking wine together is their way of showing respect to visitors.

So as one song after another follows, the wine bowls empty quickly. Soon, I find myself very drunk.

But surrounded by the Dong's melodious songs and sincere warmth, I feel so close to these people - and would, in a heartbeat, go through the whole singing, dancing, drinking ritual again.