The Spring Festival was the most important holiday for chinese people, and for chinese people living in a foreign land, its importance multiplied severalfold.
Those who missed their homeland stubbornly clung to every custom that could strengthen their memories, lest they spend too long overseas and forget what their roots looked like.
The delegation also attached great importance to the holiday. Several days in advance, they stopped their external inspection work and began making all kinds of preparations to celebrate the Spring Festival.
"The dumplings need three kinds of filling: cabbage, chives, and shrimp. Heh, you wouldn't have guessed it, would you? We can actually get chives here. I thought Soviet Russians didn't eat chives! But I heard they aren't cheap—they're almost as expensive as caviar."
"Of course they aren't cheap! I say we should do as the locals do: caviar, beef and mutton, and that fish or whatever it is, half a man tall. It must be a real kick to eat."
"Pfft, does it count as passing the new year if you don't eat dumplings? You can eat caviar when the time comes—give me your dumplings."
"Fine. Once we're done eating, I'll go complain to Director Liang and say you stole my dumplings. You'll get a disciplinary punishment no matter what."
"Go to hell! Hurry up and chop the filling."
When it came to food, if the Chinese dared to claim first place, no one else dared claim second. Otherwise, there would never have been a phrase like "it is hard to satisfy every palate."
If they were like certain countries, with only two or three flavors total, and three huge basins of food plopped down with a thunk, how could anyone's tastes possibly be hard to satisfy?
Even in a place like Moscow, gathering every kind of