My neighbor Mary is a retired professor of British and American literature at a state university and a graduate dean at a private university.

Mary is a world traveler who had been in many countries including North Korea and the former Soviet Union. My favorite story is her trip to China in 80’s, which was full of adventures.

In December, 1986, Mary and her two daughters, Jane and Susan, joined a tour group organized by the state university system on a trip to China.

“We were truly strangers to the local people," Mary said.

She recalled an incident when they come to visit Chengdu. They took an ancient steam engine train climbing over mountains. It was in winter, and there was no heat inside the train.

“Quite miserable”, Mary said.

When they had arrived at the train station in Chengdu, people were so curious about their white skin and blue eyes that they formed a circle outside Mary, Jane and Susan, watched them, and even touched their faces and hands.

“For an American, some of the food was a bit exotic," Mary continued.

Mary had an unpleasant experience. Listening to the Orioles, a restaurant in the Forbidden City, was where the emperor's concubines dined.  One of the dishes that was served looked like squares of brown Jello coated with powdered sugar. Then Mary found that it was not sugar, but flour or cornstarch. Months later, she was told that it was a Chinese delicacy--congealed chicken blood.  Suddenly she had some reactions in the stomach.

On the New Year’s Eve, Mary, Jane and Susan were invited to a celebration dinner at Beijing's famous Peking Duck Restaurant.  The Americans were disappointed when the Peking Duck was served.  It looked and smelled delicious. The cook came to the side of the table, cut the duck skin into pieces, and put them into a plate. The server then took the duck meat away, leaving only the skin.  No one touched the duck skin, and all was waiting for the meat to return. But it never was returned. The diners did not know that the skin was the real treat of Peking Duck.

The next dish for the banquet was called Mongolian hot pot.  Chunks of pork, lamb, and perhaps beef were put into a boiling pot of water.  When they were cooked to your liking you took the meat out and ate them.  Mary said she Mongolian hot pot was certainly not among her favorite foods in China.

I explained to her that the skin was considered the best part of the Peking Duck, and the Mongolian hot pot has been popular for years in China even now. In fact, it is my favorite dish. Mary couldn’t remember the name of the restaurant, but she saw it written up in Newsweek or Time “as the best Peking Duck restaurant in the world!!!”  I think it must be Quan-Ju-De, which has been my favorite restaurant for a long time. Actually, I go there at least once whenever I go back to China.

To my surprise, Mary’s adventures were not only from China, but also from another member of her own group, more precisely, a State congress man—let’s just call him Peter.

Peter must understand China better than other group members as he brought a whole suit case filled with jeans. Upon arrived to Guilin, he rented a cart and went to the night market to sell these jeans, but was arrested by the local Chinese police for conducting business without a license.

“We were so shamed and embarrassed," Mary explained. They had to postpone their travel plans, while they went to the police and begged them to release him. That congress man became less popular later, and didn’t win the following election.

The most exciting adventure was on the plane flight from Chengdu to Xi’an. The plane was a former Soviet Union Aeroflot.  It was said that it could be converted into a fighting plane in minutes. It was an old plane; some of the seats had no seat belts and the backs of other seats would not stay in an upright position.  On its first attempt to get airborne, the plane started down the runway, but couldn’t get enough speed to take off. The pilot returned the plane to the terminal, and the airport staff unloaded baggage.  The pilot revved the engines and began the second attempt to get up enough speed to get the plane into the air. It wasn't a successful launch this time either.  The pilot returned to the terminal again. This time, however, the flight attendants asked Chinese passengers leave the plane.  To the puzzlement of the remaining passengers, each one was given a STAPLER! Mary still doesn't know what that was for.  Surely they were not supposed to staple seat belts in place. The third attempt to get into the air was successful.  As soon as the ground grew smaller as the plane got higher, the flight attendants served "frozen sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper.”  Mary thought those were very interesting experiences.

“All this changed a lot by my second visit there about twenty years ago.  The plane from Hangzhou to either Hong Kong or Guangzhou (I don't remember) was magnificent.  We were served a delicious steak dinner with baked potatoes and green beans.  The changes in China is just a few years were amazing."  Mary wrote to me with excitements.

“You Chinese people did a great job!”  Mary complimented.

No, it is NOT us. I quietly thought. It is the people who have remained in China made this miracle.