IN BEIJING

CHINA'S annual parliamentary session, or Lianghui, is known for its long speeches, dry reports and marathon group discussions where delegates flag their unwavering support for government policies.

But away from all the serious business, there are interesting, and sometimes comic, sideshows that take place every year on the steps and along the corridors of Beijing's Great Hall of the People.

First and most intriguing, there is what I call the Lianghui beauty pageant.

When not snapping important officials, gear-laden photographers go on the prowl for Lianghui "mei nu", which means "beauties" in Chinese.

They survey the crowd and then pounce when they spot attractive female delegates, pretty journalists, and even the tall, leggy female working staff who are given the job of welcoming and directing delegates, holding signboards and pouring tea.

The photographs usually end up online on the various news portals. Feast your eyes on a few "mei nu" journalists : http://news.163.com/09/0308/08/53SBL58P000120GU.html and http://lady.163.com/09/0305/17/53LL7M0V002626K2.html and http://pic.people.com.cn/GB/42589/8905965.html

Then, there is the search for the best, most impressive costume competition.

Once again, photographers display skill, strength and dexterity as they run through the crowd bearing ladders and heavy lenses, to snap pictures of ethnic minority delegates dressed in elaborate traditional garb.

All of China's 55 official minority groups are represented at the meeting, from Tibetans and Muslim Uyghurs to Manchus from northeastern Heilongjiang. Some boast intricate head dresses, others turn heads in bright, eye-catching dresses complete with sequins and bangles and make for great pictures.

Apart from these, there is what I consider the death scrum for journalists.

It goes something like this: an important delegate shows up, 50 journalists spot him, all run at once, surrounding and swarming him like a pack of hungry wolves – and all for a throwaway quote or two.

From afar, the huddle looks like a large multi-legged organism, with TV cameras and lenses held overhead and trained on the poor, captive delegate trapped in the middle of a six-person deep scrum.

Sounds fun? More like dangerous - there have been occasions when journalists have been seen on the ground cradling their heads or whichever body part got hit or crushed in the squeeze.

Reporters also star in other light moments during the Lianghui.

Half way through last Friday’s designated hour-long press conference with Guangdong Governor Huang Huahua, reporters started to get desperate.

To get picked to ask the next question, a few resorted to standing up and wildly waving their raised hands, while some tried to intercept the microphones that working staff were passing on to reporters who had been selected to speak.

Some others started to shout out requests from the floor that journalists from Hong Kong / Taiwan / Macau / overseas, should be given a chance to pose a question.

One female reporter was so excited to be picked by the conference's host, that she shot up from her seat asking "Is it me? Is it me?" and started to ask her question without waiting for the microphone, prompting laughter from others in the packed hall.

The press conference eventually ran over by half an hour, but that was still not enough for some journalists who chased Mr Huang as he fled the room.

One exasperated Guangdong-based reporter remarked to me as she ran after them: "There has to be a more effective way of doing this!"

I nodded my agreement as I took a deep breath, switched on my tape recorder and plunged headlong into the mass of bodies.