Winnie's Birthday

Beijing, China

Another birthday party. This time it's Winnie's big day and she wanted to celebrate in style. I still hardly know her so I bought a big bunch of flowers for her at the florist opposite her compound. I realised, not for the first time, that I have no bloody clue about flowers. I left it to the lady and her husband to put the bunch together telling them only it's for a woman's birthday. My Chinese doesn't really allow me to say much more yet. Then I got in a cab and managed to be directed to the club she had designated. This was a club in a very Old-World, British sense with lots of marble and expensive woodwork and waitresses in cocktail dresses - not the modern "thump, thump", "binge, binge" affair. I have hardly any formal clothing with me, so I felt horribily underdressed.
Most people here were again from the church or Bible group. This brought back some scary memories. There were a number of Westerners, too, this time. I chatted politely but somehow felt a bit left out. But Winnie had asked me to be the photographer. That gets me every time. Later, Winnie announced, there would be a gettogether at the home of one of her friends, an American couple, with Bible discussion and "sharing".
The Americans lived in a compound like most foreigners do. It's for safety and convenience purposes. Evonne and Winnie do. That where the similarity ends, though. Evonne's and Winnie's compound has four tower blocks and a community building in the middle. This compound was a fenced-in district in itself. The moment we passed the gate it felt more like crossing from China into a miniature version of America. It was heavily guarded, too. We were immediately hailed by uniformed guards who radioed back to central confirming who we were and where we were going. As we entered the building almost every door was secured with a key or code lock. People that lived here were seriously afraid of something. I had never felt that threatened in Beijing. A playground for rich foreigners, it seemed. Then came the flat and I realised how right my first impression had been. It had white marble, gold-plated railings, a fluffy, white plush carpet. To say it was "luxurious" or "lavish" doesn't quite capture it. I've never seen an apartment with Roman-style columns. They had a live-in 24-hour Filipino maid and a spoilt, little, white dog matching the carpet. The only word I could think of was "decadent". Somehow it reminded me of the descriptions of the villae of rich Roman citizens where they lived with their family and slaves.
I was also a bit apprehensive about the "sharing". Would they try to make me tell a story about how I had recently experienced God?
I didn't need to worry. Everyone gathered on the plush carpet and, being the host, the American quickly volunteered. He told an impressive story about his dream where he found himself in a sort of cathedral, the sky opened and God spoke to him fitting him with holy armour and a flaming sword telling him to be His servant. Everyone nodded. "Amen", some agreed. Then Winnie herself told the story of how her friend had been unhappy for a long time and she had gone over and they had prayed and sung together and waved around a white flag to cleanse the room when they had seen a dark shadow, a demon, retreating for their sight. More agreement and amens.
I can't help myself. The whole gathering felt a lot like a group of people bullshitting each other. Who can get the most attention? Who's the closest to God? Humans love to compete, humans love attention and social acceptance and this is just another arena. The stories I heard this evening could I have been straight from a Dungeons & Dragons game session. I could have written stuff like that (and I have made a mental note to reuse some of the stuff I heard tonight). You just have to be part of the group so that you have credibility. Then you can probably tell people anything. Still, I wonder if people tonight really believed what others or even they themselves said. No matter how much Winnie tries to convince me I find it harder and harder to identify with this kind of faith, let alone believe it.