A brisk wind was driving the small snow flakes stinging into my face.
The sky was a mixture of coal smoke and natural snow clouds as we left the hotel for the welcome banquet.
Breathing was difficult.
Deep breaths were impossible.
We were in a different van this time, one that actually had a heater.
A sign of good things to come, I hoped.
The restaurant sported four large decorated balls hanging from the roof, a sign that this was a very fine dining establishment.
The more balls, the better the food, so we were told.
The table was round and large with seating for twelve, and a large lazy Susan in the center.
Five very young and attractive girls in blue, floor length, tight fitting dresses (slit nearly to the waist) were positioned strategically around the table.
As the guest of honor, I was seated to the right of the top ranking official, the Mayor of Harbin, although he had not yet arrived.
My other two colleagues were seated at four o'clock and eight o'clock respectively.
Tea was poured by the girls and Charles (our interpreter from the Hong Kong office) made introductions.
Seven of the guests were from the factory we were to evaluate the next day, including the factory manager and various department heads.
A small man with severely decayed teeth was introduced as the representative for the Communist Party faction in Harbin.
Then the mayor arrived in a very dramatic manor.
The girls halted all activity and stood at rigid attention as the man, dressed in a black suit, wearing a black cape lined in bright red, and sporting an eight inch long, silver cigarette holder complete with lit cigarette, entered the room.
My first thought was that Dracula had decided to join us.
The Chinese all stood, so we followed suit.
He removed the cape, handing it one of the girls, and bowed.
"I Mayor of Harbin.
Welcome you to my city.
" He beamed at his ability to speak to us in English.
Unfortunately, those were the few words he knew.
He shook hands all around and began a conversation with me through Charles.
He was excited his city was being visited by dignitaries from America.
I hadn't realized before that I was a dignitary.
Good stuff.
The first order of the evening was to have a drink of Mao-tai...
liquor made from fermented rice which could fuel the next shuttle rocket to way past the moon.
The small glasses were filled to the brim and toasts were made.
Each Chinese wanted to individually toast the Americans, and it became clear that by the time we went around the table and had nine glasses of the terrible tasting nectar, none of us would be able to sit or stand.
So, I had Charles put a stop to that nonsense by having a toast that involved everyone at once.
The feast began with small plates of peanuts, pickled onions and what I thought was white raisins in a cream sauce.
The Mayor, as customary, used his chop sticks to serve me the delicacies, and then proceeded to use the same chop sticks to feed himself.
I was a little perplexed, but, when in Paris...
The peanuts were good, the onions tasty, but the raisins turned out to be grub worms.
I ate only one.
Next came the snake soup (good for making better sex, we were told).
The girls all giggled.
The soup was followed by slim slices of cold meat.
When we asked what it was, all the locals laughed out loud.
Yes, I think I had my first taste of dog.
Then things really started to get interesting.
A young man with a banner tied around his head, brought in a burner and placed a large pot of boiling water on top.
Then the girls came in each carrying a silver dish filled with live and kicking shrimp.
One gave a queue and they dumped the shrimp into the water all at once.
What followed could only be described as ten dozen shrimp all having an epileptic fit at the same time, throwing hot water all over the table.
"This dish is called Drunken Shrimp," said Charles.
Very appropriate.
The shrimp were not the ones getting drunk, although they were delicious! I was not prepared for the next course.
The Mayor said something to Charles and chuckled.
I was quick to notice the locals were having a lot of fun at our expense.
"We are going to have the rarest of rarest treats tonight," reported Charles.
"Foot of the Bear.
" The platter was large and the fury thing in the center was at least fourteen inches long.
It was indeed the foot of a bear, complete with large black claws.
Charles explained that the skin was removed, the meat baked, and the skin replaced to keep it warm and to make the dish appealing.
Ugh! When the fur was taken away, the meat, bright pink and steaming, was removed in small pieces by my host and placed on my plate.
It was outstanding! Next came black caviar on bread squares with onion and finally, a variety of melons and fruit.
The meal was over.
The mao-tai re-emerged, and the drinking became serious.
Very serious.
I have no recollection of being in my hotel room until six am the next morning.
My skin smelled like jet fuel for three days after.
Many more banquets would follow over the years...
but none as memorable as the first one.
And none with an entree called Foot of the Bear.