As Fall begins to turn the leaves outside, the inside of Shea changes as well, transforming for one night into the backdrop for the Chinese pod’s Mid-Autumn Festival Barbecue. 

The minute one walks in the door, the atmosphere feels different. There, in the corner, a group of people are watching with rapt and wide eyes as a tea ceremony is performed, not even a single drop spilled as the boiling water is transferred and the rich leaves are distilled. Next to them a guqin lesson is taught, the notation completely different and yet the sounds still familiar, still spoken in that inherent and universal language of music. Across the room brushes are being held between tight fingers at the calligraphy station, visitors either writing out Chinese characters by memory or attempting to copy the unknown script in front of them. Against the wall is a deceptively simple table, with nothing on it except for a few sheets of papers, though these tongue twisters may be—in my opinion—the hardest thing one can attempt at this event. 

And then, of course, there is the titular barbecue. As visitors to the event travel between different stations and learn different things, they gather stamps upon the card they had received upon entering, slowly building up enough to be able to exchange said paper for skewers and plates. That’s when the barbecue truly begins. As the fires get going and the rungs of the cooking grates get heated, the smell of cooking meat and charring vegetables fills the air of this crowded space with the savory and distinctive smell of grilling food. But even more sweet may be the laughter that floats alongside the smell across the air. One skewer is lost completely to the grill when the flames rise unexpectedly too high, while another is turned over and over again, never quite getting cooked enough for its owner’s liking; but at every grill you visit you can see the same smiling faces, hear the same cheerful voices. 

And so we eat, and so we learn. And so we enjoy together. 

Written by Chloe Ross ‘26