Well, almost. It was his grandson, Arun. He was here to give a lecture.
The University Apartment Association sponsors the etiquette dinner once a year. For $10 you get $25 worth of food. Only this year they reduced the price to $5 in order to increase participation. It worked.
So, I took the campus shuttle bus to the closest stop near the Student Center, walked over, zipped up the stairs as I was running late, and as I approached the room where the dinner was being held, I asked an Indian student if I was in the right location for the dinner and he directed me to a door a few feet away.
I walked in, hung up my coat, and sat down on a divan which was not occupied by students. A few minutes later, Gandhi's grandson walked in. We all stood in line to greet him.
I was stationed at the end of the line and leaned in toward the instructor standing next to me and whispered, "What are the rules of engagement? Are we allowed to shake his hand?" He said we were, and I watched the others as they greeted him as well as the instructor who handed him a prayer cloth from Tibet as part of his greeting.
I greeted him in the traditional Indian manner by lifting my hands up and pressing them together while saying the greeting "Namaskar" as only the instructor standing in line ahead of me had, and as a fellow Indian student had taught me last semester.
Next, nine of us students, the instructor, and Gandhi sat down to eat. Directly in front of us was a plate of gourmet salad, and at each of our stations was a curiously large piece of pecan pie. As it turns out, Gandhi is a fan of pecan pie.
Gandhi told us stories. Once he was invited to a dinner in Alabama. The hostess asked if there were any dietary restrictions. He said he could not eat red meat. When he arrived for dinner, he noticed several plates stacked high with thick steaks as the only main course choice. When he asked about red meat, the hostess pointed at them and said, "Those aren't red."
I never found out what was being served as the main course as the person in whose chair I was sitting arrived late. She looked in the room, and asked to be excused for entering as she thought she was in the wrong location.
I got up carrying my napkin with me and followed her out into the hallway. I called her back and explained that I thought I was the one in the wrong location. Apparently, the etiquette dinner was not in the Student Center where I was standing with my red cloth napkin, but at the Alumni Center all the way at the other end of the campus.
I handed her my napkin, instructed her to return, informed her that I had not touched anything other than the napkin, apologized, grabbed my coat and left.
Fortunately, the head caterer was heading to the etiquette dinner. They were 40 spoons shy. She dropped me off at the front of the Alumni Center, and I walked in with a basket containing the 40 needed spoons, but that's another story.
