PARDON ME, CAN YOU HOLD THIS FOR A SECOND?

The trade delegation's first major opportunity to size up their Chinese counterparts came on Monday during a networking lunch for the agriculture industry. The setting was a hotel ballroom (underground, no less) jazzed up to resemble a Beijing street. I'm not sure why anyone would travel halfway around the word to marvel at an ersatz Beijing street when a real one could be found just outside the front door of the hotel. Or the rear door, for that matter. Then again, a real Beijing street might not have been conducive to networking. At least not the networking the governor and his staff had in mind.

	The star of the show was 10-year-old contortionist Wu Si. Never mind that she can bend her legs behind her back and hook her knees over her shoulder (while smiling, which might be the most impressive part)...

So there were traditional Chinese artisans on hand, a mock wedding party paraded through, and the governor was treated to scenes from the Peking opera The Monkey King. But the star of the show was 10-year-old contortionist Wu Si. Take a look at her pictures. Never mind that she can bend her legs behind her back and hook her knees over her shoulder (while smiling, which might be the most impressive part). But see the picture where she's balancing candles with both hands, both feet, and her mouth while lying on her stomach? Well, Miss Wu then rolled over onto her back without setting the candles down or spilling a drop of wax. Then she rolled back to her stomach. I watched her do this, but I haven't the slightest idea how she did it.

JUST ONE OF THE PEOPLE

I have to admit that prior to last night I'd never been invited to a dinner at the Great Hall of the People. It's an amazing building; astounding in its size and soviet austerity. It was from this building overlooking Tiananmen Square that Chairman Mao Tse Tung proclaimed the establishment of the People's Republic in 1949.

Inside, in the 3rd floor banquet room where we ate, was a fantastic mural of Mao entering the building. See the picture at right For a sense of its scale, see the picture of me and Star Tribune reporter Dane Smith standing in front of it. I'm 6'2" tall if that helps. Dane is not.

We dined that night on cuttlefish egg soup, almond-flavored bean curd, Chinese petit-fours, enormous prawns, and a smattering of other dishes I couldn't easily identify. Normally, I don't eat at these functions. It crosses an ethical line, I think, to sit down and participate in these when I consider that my role is to watch events from the outside as an objective observer.

	Inside, in the 3rd floor banquet room where we ate, was a fantastic mural of Mao entering the building.

But given Gov. Jesse Ventura's hectic schedule and the various other rigors of this trip, it was obvious early on that if I didn't eat when Ventura ate, I just wouldn't eat. As it is, I've already lost nearly 2 kg since I arrived here. I know because I've been checking the scale in my hotel room. I'm not sure what that equates to in pounds, but losing weight is the last thing I need to do (see that picture of Dane and me again).

So, getting back to the ethics, the press corps agreed to pay for our meals in advance. No freebies for us. Even so, I don't think I would sell out for cuttlefish egg soup, anyway.

The courses were served on Great Hall of the People china (pun unavoidable): white, with pale blue lines circling the rim. At the top was the seal of the Great Hall (the servers always conscientiously placed the seal at the top). I wanted desperately to take one of these plates as a souvenir.

It's just the sort of thing I have absolutely no use for but that I think would look really nice (okay, I confess, it would look really cool) on my bookshelf. But I figured it would be utterly unprofessional and discourteous to swipe one. So I just kept the complimentary toothpicks, wrapped in Great Hall packaging. Good enough, right? And much kitschier. I think I lost the toothpicks.

One other thing about the Great Hall: the men's room was staffed by an attendant in a tuxedo. I don't know, but that struck me as sort of - oh, how should I say it - Bourgeois.