The men in our group were in their 50s and 60s; all were hungry.
Prize pieces of pork fat and bean curd were fished out by my landlord and presented to me, on top of my rice bowl; he later explained that he wanted me to try the best items before they disappeared (which they did, rapidly). Within 20 minutes every scrap of food had been consumed; the men then proceeded to finish their bowls of rice and drink small cups of French brandy presented by the host – who did not say a word or perform any type of ritual (other than to pour the brandy). When we finished eating and drinking, everyone in our group abruptly got up, walked to the door of the ancestral hall, and disappeared into the alleyways of the village. They did not acknowledge the host (the father of the new-born child) nor did they thank him, or anyone else, for the meal. One other aspect of the banquet was striking: there were no women eating in the hall. All participants, including the cooks, were male.
I later learned that our group of eight men consisted of two multi-millionaire emigrants (from Holland and Canada) home for a brief visit, one taxi driver, one vegetable farmer, two retired emigrants (from England), my landlord (retired), and a 26 year old visiting anthropologist. There had been no attempt to separate people into distinguishable status groups: The rich ate with the poor, squatting on the floor because the chairs and tables were occupied by those fortunate enough to arrive early. This was – to my outsider’s eye – a conscious, purposely designed rite of extreme egalitarianism: All attendees were equal and the only thing that mattered in respect to seating arrangements was chronology: first come, first served. I concluded that the sik pun pattern of dining was a leveling device that emphasized the fact that all attendees were equal in the eyes of their ancestors – who happened to be present as ancestral tablets on the hall’s altar.
After further discussion with village friends, I later concluded that the banquet also constituted a form of social recognition and legitimization for the host, or (as in the case described above) for the host’s male heir. All male elders (fu lao), aged 60 and above were collectively invited to the banquets, not as individuals but as a social category. Public invitations were posted in the village square: “All fu lao are hereby invited to a full-month banquet in XX hall, on [date].” Nothing more was needed and every elder who was physically capable of attending did so. Attendees did not present red envelopes (containing money) to the host. Nor did they comment on the quality of the food; to do so would have been considered a breath of etiquette