Thursday, May 2, 2013
Halfway Through, the Second Time Around
I have officially made it to 20 weeks, the halfway point in pregnancy. It seems like a lot of people say the second pregnancy speeds by much faster, but I can't say I've found this to be true. Of course, nobody ever says, "Time flies when you're throwing up all the time," so that could have something to do with it. I am happy to announce that I haven't thrown up now for weeks, though! I still have some bad days when I feel pretty sick, but most days I'm feeling more like my normal self. I'm cooking again, able to eat a larger variety of foods, and getting the belly to show it. Or maybe that's the baby. It's really nice to enjoy food again!
Being pregnant the second time does have its differences. For example, last time I didn't go to bed at 9pm, although I probably got more rest during the day. I wasn't as sick last time, but when I was throwing up nobody was poking their head in asking to see my "hic-ups" and telling me to feel better. Although I've been trying not to carry Juliana around much, I'm sure I'm doing more lifting this time. And this time I get to enjoy Juliana's funny baby-related comments and wonder how she'll react to a brother or sister.
Last time I did a lot of walking and yoga, but I also made good use of our apartment's elevator. I have been doing the same prenatal yoga video, but it is a little different with a small person holding your hand, trying to climb on your back, or crawling under your legs. Maybe not as effective or focused, but definitely more interesting. Sometimes Juliana does the yoga with me - her favorite pose is downward dog: "Now I'm a dog!" For a long time, walking to class every day was about as much exercise as I could handle and I'm just getting back into walking or aerobics. Living on the sixth floor has been helpful though! If I want to get home, I don’t have much choice but to climb those stairs!
I miss some of the exciting newness of the first pregnancy, but I appreciate how much more familiar everything is the second time around. I suspected I was pregnant almost a week before I got the positive test because I felt the same way as last time. I haven't been worrying about every ache and twinge because I remember that it's normal. I didn't start recognizing Juliana's movements until around 21 weeks, but this time I've been feeling movement for weeks already. Lately the movement is more consistent and Kevin has already been able to feel some nudges from the outside. I'm even getting some forcible jabs that make me think, "How did I miss this last time?" While I'm still not huge, my belly has definitely grown faster. Last time at 20 weeks most people who saw me still didn't realize I was pregnant.
When I was pregnant the first time we traveled to Beijing several times for prenatal appointments because I was concerned about getting the best care, I guess. Looking back, I'm not really sure why it seemed necessary. I now realize that most check-ups don't involve much more than a blood pressure check and listening to baby's heartbeat. I weighed the cost and inconvenience of travel and decided our local hospital will serve just fine. I do splurge to see the "expert" doctor at the new hospital though; it seems worth the $1.50. Next week I will go back for an ultrasound (a whopping $15) and try to convince them to tell us the sex of the baby. Chinese people aren't allowed to find out because of the overwhelming preference for girls, but they might tell us since we're foreigners. I'm not counting on it, but it sure would be fun to know!
While I still don’t know much about baby, I can make some speculations. For example, she seems quite active compared to Juliana in-utero (who is now hardly the docile, sedentary type). He also seems to be confused about what country he’s living in. He loves Mexican food and all dairy while still being a bit skeptical of Chinese food. Furthermore, she doesn’t seem to enjoy studying Chinese and is slyly undermining my efforts by sneaking away brain cells in the night. Funny, huh?
Just 20 more weeks (or you might say, still 20 whole weeks!!) until we meet the little Ruvin in person!
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
April Appropriate Clothing
Juliana and her friend Ting Ting. Juliana was dressed warmer that day (awesome outfit, huh?) because it was cooler. Ting Ting was dressed the same because it was April appropriate clothing. |
The weather
in Yinchuan has turned quite warm recently. While last week we pulled back out the thick blankets, this week is more-or-less perfect springtime weather. The temperature would be just about perfect
too if we weren't a touch worried about two warmer months to follow. The trees
and bushes are blooming and spring-green is finally wining the battle over
winter-dead. The obsessive watering has
begun but our apartment still has water most of the time. It's a good time of year.
The other
day I took Juliana outside to enjoy the warmth and sunshine. This weekend was up to about 80*F. Juliana was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and I
had on a light sweater, which I promptly shed, thereby becoming the only one
around in short-sleeves. After a few
minutes we met up with some other little kids out with their mothers and
grandmothers. Not surprisingly, they
commented on the fact that Juliana was only wearing one layer and wasn't it a
bit cool? In Chinese mindset temperature
is measured less in degrees and more in time of year. Come May 1st, jackets are suddenly traded in
for short-sleeves and sandles. But right
now "mid April" matters more than "80 degrees".
What did
surprise me is when we saw Juliana's friend Ting Ting, her auntie was busy
taking off one of her pants layers.
"She is wearing too many clothes!" she commented to me. "Her mama always says she will get a
cold, but look at how much she is wearing!" With the jeans removed, Ting Ting still had on
another pair of pants plus long underwear.
On the top she was wearing two shirts and a sweatshirt. "Look at An-An," her auntie told
Ting Ting. "She is only wearing one
layer." I must say, I never
expected to be (indirectly) complimented on Juliana not wearing layers!
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Walking advertisements
By Kevin
Once again, we were an advertisement. In exchange for the use of one of the first 70 degree Spring afternoons of the year, we were giving the University "face." But that's not what we were told going in. All we were told was that there would be an activity (活动) in the afternoon involving sports. And that we must come and participate. There's no asking: when you are a student, the school often tells you what to do.
When we arrived with around 150 of the other foreign students on campus, the teacher in charge divided us into four rows of people and explained that we were going to be filmed by CCTV (China's national TV station) and the local Ningxia TV station because Ning Da is participating in 留动中国 (meaning "stay active China," I think) -- an activity meant to promote "healthy exercise" (redundant, I know), cultural exchange and "joining hands in the sun" for foreign students living in China. It sounds like participating schools were supposed to arrange 3-on-3 basketball tournaments, ping-pong matches and 毽子 (jianzi) (a sort of traditional Chinese hacky-sack) exhibitions, in addition to other cultural activities. While we waited for the videographer to show up, a reporter started making the rounds, interviewing several students, including our teammate about all sorts of things. I heard a few questions about food and studies and why he came to China. Nothing could start until the videographer was there.
It really came as no surprise that our sports activity, which the school's website called "trials" for a national competition featuring foreign students didn't actually involve most of us doing something we wanted to do or really learning anything. After all, this was a made-for-TV event. Not an actual activity for our enjoyment or enrichment, no matter what the propaganda said. At the root, I figured it would be some sort of face-giving publicity stunt, no matter how much it had been dressed up as a fun outing. In fact, though we were told it would involve playing sports, very few were chosen to don University t-shirts and compete. The school chose six guys they'd heard could play basketball (two of them our teammates), gave them T-shirts and split them into two teams. The rest of us were just told to be there.
A handful of students played. The rest of us were the audience.
We were supposed to simulate a "real" competition. The athletes would play their hearts out. The rest of us were told to 拉拉手, which I took to mean, be cheerleaders (the closest dictionary entry I could find to this says "to shake hands" -- either that or maybe I got the tones wrong and she meant 辣手, which means "troublesome" or "vicious" -- I'm guessing that none of these are what she was going for). We were to mimic the way Chinese students constantly cheer on their classmates at sports meets and basketball games , shouting the traditional Chinese cheer of “加油” (add oil! -- meaning something like "more effort" or "go team"). But few joined in. Most just watched. We just weren't naturals. Teachers repeatedly attempted to start a chant, but it would die before the third or fourth repetition. A few chanted cheers in Russian or other native languages. Students who were given an assignment to hold four signs reading 留动中国 held the signs with less and less enthusiasm as the game went on. The student tasked with holding up the 宁夏大学 sign tried to prop it up using a package of water bottles, then later by attaching it to another student's backpack.
The basketball players played a fierce half-court game for 15-20 minutes, long enough for our teammate to get a bloody nose and hurt his knee. Then, as they finished their game, the teachers pointed the rest of us to the other end of the court and told us to watch and learn how to pay 毽子 (jianzi). In this game, which has been around since the fifth century, we all spent a few minutes attempting to use long-dormant or non-existent hacky-sack skills as we kicked around a shuttle-cock made from four brightly colored feathers attached to two or three small quarter-sized pieces of metal. A few students from Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan had obviously played something similar before because soon they were jumping in the air, tapping the feathered hacky sack back and forth, showing off for the cameras. A teacher tried to get the rest of the students to gather around and again cheer them on for the cameras. By this time the crowd had shrunk to maybe 100 students. And half weren't interested in anything more than chatting with friends.
By the time we made it to the third activity, the ping-pong "tournament," only 50 or 60 students were left to crowd around the ping-pong tables in the classroom building. But still the cameras rolled.
In the end, I don't know if it had the desired effect. Perhaps if the competitions were real, rather than made-for-TV, people would have gotten into it. Perhaps if everything didn't feel so staged and manipulated it would have worked. But it didn't. It felt forced because it was. But maybe that's not how the school saw it. After all, the local news did run a report on the event, trimming out the fat and concentrating on the action and conveying the message the school was going for: "The primary (goal is) to offer our foreign students and Chinese university students a platform to interact and at the same time give them more opportunities to experience Chinese culture," said Wang Hui, the director of the School of International Education.
The only interaction we had with Chinese University students was with the three who served as referees of the basketball and ping pong matches. We probably could have gleaned the Chinese love for ping-pong or basketball without attending a staged event. The jianzi activity was interesting, but most of what I learned about Chinese culture came from reading Wikipedia after learning that the sport isn't actually called "Chinese hacky-sack."
So I guess I learned two things - the importance of giving face and the name of the hacky-sack-like sport.Being the foreign faces in the crowd often gets us roped into events ostensibly for education's sake. But really it's all about giving face or publicity sake. We often go along with the publicity shoots because they "give face" to our hosts. "Face" is a huge thing in Chinese culture, so our hosts are generally more appreciative (at least when we were teachers they were -- as students, it's more of an expectation). Surely the school didn't gain as much face as it wanted. I wonder what we'll be roped into next.
As students, we've been taken to a farm owned by the university so we could be photographed by local media among the fields, we've given New Year's performances for University and governmental leaders from China and several other countries and gone to teach Christmas lessons at a local university. As teachers, we've had colleagues and students ask if they could take our photo so they could advertise their school (even though we didn't work there), invite us to spend a day playing at the kindergarten (meaning teaching the kids some English songs), ask us to give high school students an impromptu English lesson and invite us to be interviewed for school radio programs, among other things. The difference between the two was that as students, we tend to be told to participate, whereas as teachers, it's a request. Often it's a very urgent request because they've already told others that we will participate, but at least it gets phrased as a request. We then must decipher how urgent it is.
But sometimes, as students, when told that we must participate, it's just not feasible: there was the 2-1/2-to-three-hour one way bus ride last Spring to Shapotou,
a scenic sand dune along the Yellow River. I went alone. It was interesting, but the full-day trip just wouldn't have worked with then 1- and-a-half-year old Juliana skipping all naps. Then there was the 5K our first fall in Yinchuan. Students were told that they would be going to a small city an hour away, where there would be a 5K run. We were assured that we wouldn't have to run it if we didn't want to do so. We foreigners were also encouraged to bring our kids and assured that we wouldn't need a stroller. Thankfully, we declined the invitation, using the baby excuse. The bus dropped everyone off at the starting line, then drove to the finish line, forcing everyone to at least walk the route. Glad we decided not to go to that one. Carrying then 1-year-old Juliana for the whole route would have been terrible.
I can't help but wonder what the next face-giving event will be.
Once again, we were an advertisement. In exchange for the use of one of the first 70 degree Spring afternoons of the year, we were giving the University "face." But that's not what we were told going in. All we were told was that there would be an activity (活动) in the afternoon involving sports. And that we must come and participate. There's no asking: when you are a student, the school often tells you what to do.
The cameraman we had to wait for before starting |
When we arrived with around 150 of the other foreign students on campus, the teacher in charge divided us into four rows of people and explained that we were going to be filmed by CCTV (China's national TV station) and the local Ningxia TV station because Ning Da is participating in 留动中国 (meaning "stay active China," I think) -- an activity meant to promote "healthy exercise" (redundant, I know), cultural exchange and "joining hands in the sun" for foreign students living in China. It sounds like participating schools were supposed to arrange 3-on-3 basketball tournaments, ping-pong matches and 毽子 (jianzi) (a sort of traditional Chinese hacky-sack) exhibitions, in addition to other cultural activities. While we waited for the videographer to show up, a reporter started making the rounds, interviewing several students, including our teammate about all sorts of things. I heard a few questions about food and studies and why he came to China. Nothing could start until the videographer was there.
3-on-3 basketball "trials" |
It really came as no surprise that our sports activity, which the school's website called "trials" for a national competition featuring foreign students didn't actually involve most of us doing something we wanted to do or really learning anything. After all, this was a made-for-TV event. Not an actual activity for our enjoyment or enrichment, no matter what the propaganda said. At the root, I figured it would be some sort of face-giving publicity stunt, no matter how much it had been dressed up as a fun outing. In fact, though we were told it would involve playing sports, very few were chosen to don University t-shirts and compete. The school chose six guys they'd heard could play basketball (two of them our teammates), gave them T-shirts and split them into two teams. The rest of us were just told to be there.
A handful of students played. The rest of us were the audience.
Foreign students holding signs |
Student shows off his prowess at jianzi, a Chinese hacky-sack-like game |
By the time we made it to the third activity, the ping-pong "tournament," only 50 or 60 students were left to crowd around the ping-pong tables in the classroom building. But still the cameras rolled.
Wang Hui, school director, interviewed by NXTV. |
The only interaction we had with Chinese University students was with the three who served as referees of the basketball and ping pong matches. We probably could have gleaned the Chinese love for ping-pong or basketball without attending a staged event. The jianzi activity was interesting, but most of what I learned about Chinese culture came from reading Wikipedia after learning that the sport isn't actually called "Chinese hacky-sack."
So I guess I learned two things - the importance of giving face and the name of the hacky-sack-like sport.Being the foreign faces in the crowd often gets us roped into events ostensibly for education's sake. But really it's all about giving face or publicity sake. We often go along with the publicity shoots because they "give face" to our hosts. "Face" is a huge thing in Chinese culture, so our hosts are generally more appreciative (at least when we were teachers they were -- as students, it's more of an expectation). Surely the school didn't gain as much face as it wanted. I wonder what we'll be roped into next.
Farmers work the fields at Ningxia University's experimental farm |
As students, we've been taken to a farm owned by the university so we could be photographed by local media among the fields, we've given New Year's performances for University and governmental leaders from China and several other countries and gone to teach Christmas lessons at a local university. As teachers, we've had colleagues and students ask if they could take our photo so they could advertise their school (even though we didn't work there), invite us to spend a day playing at the kindergarten (meaning teaching the kids some English songs), ask us to give high school students an impromptu English lesson and invite us to be interviewed for school radio programs, among other things. The difference between the two was that as students, we tend to be told to participate, whereas as teachers, it's a request. Often it's a very urgent request because they've already told others that we will participate, but at least it gets phrased as a request. We then must decipher how urgent it is.
But sometimes, as students, when told that we must participate, it's just not feasible: there was the 2-1/2-to-three-hour one way bus ride last Spring to Shapotou,
Shapotou, sand dunes along the Yellow River in Ningxia. |
a scenic sand dune along the Yellow River. I went alone. It was interesting, but the full-day trip just wouldn't have worked with then 1- and-a-half-year old Juliana skipping all naps. Then there was the 5K our first fall in Yinchuan. Students were told that they would be going to a small city an hour away, where there would be a 5K run. We were assured that we wouldn't have to run it if we didn't want to do so. We foreigners were also encouraged to bring our kids and assured that we wouldn't need a stroller. Thankfully, we declined the invitation, using the baby excuse. The bus dropped everyone off at the starting line, then drove to the finish line, forcing everyone to at least walk the route. Glad we decided not to go to that one. Carrying then 1-year-old Juliana for the whole route would have been terrible.
I can't help but wonder what the next face-giving event will be.
Labels:
basketball,
china,
chinese,
foreign students,
Ningda,
Ningxia University,
sports,
宁夏大学,
留动中国
Friday, April 5, 2013
April: A Little Family Update
You may
have noticed I haven't been doing a lot of blogging recently. I haven't been doing a lot of things
recently, and if it's a choice between blogging or say, showering, people
around me would probably prefer I shower.
It's not really that I don't have time - since my last post I have
polished off two seasons of Downton Abbey (if you can really call 7 episodes a
season), a little Gilmore Girls, and several books, but typing requires mental
effort as well as a tiny bit of physical exertion. Tiring, so tiring.
However, I
thought I would take advantage of this little holiday we are having right now
(Qing Ming Jie or "Tomb Sweeping Day") to give a general update on
our lives.
Kevin:
Recently celebrated his 35th birthday with a yummy Mexican potluck and a team
game of Pandemic (sorry to say the world was lost to disease one turn before we
could save it). Since then, he has been
busy taking care of Juliana. He has been
getting up with her in the morning, playing with her during the day, and
putting her to bed at night. He often makes eggs for me in the morning and does
most of the chores involving food (grocery shopping, dishes), gross smells
(trash, diapers), and an unreasonable amount of physical exertion (hanging up
laundry, biking to get milk). In his
free time he does fun things like taxes.
The Royal Shakespeare Company just asked to use one of his pictures in a
program, so that's pretty cool. He'll
even get paid!
Oh yes,
he's also studying Chinese. His class
has recently expanded in both size and Koreans.
His textbook this year is a series of pictures and vocabulary lists to
help describe the pictures. Yesterday
his teacher told him that if a woman is talking to her friend or relative, she
might call her own husband "jiefu" - the term for your older sister's
husband. Chinese makes lots of sense.
Kevin's picture...does it look Shakespeare-esque? |
Ruth: The
good news is I have dropped from daily to weekly throwing up. I really am doing better than a few weeks
ago. I've even been doing some things
like cooking occasionally. While I'm
still eternally grateful to live in a city where we can get cheese and fresh
milk, I have also expanded my food repetoir to include lots of Mexican food and
three fruits. Unfortunately I still have
a fair share of bad days. Usually I will
have a good day or two, do too much, and then feel sick for a couple of
days. I keep reading about how I should
be feeling better now and have that "pregnancy glow;" strangely
nobody mentions the pregnancy cynicism (maybe that's my own contribution). According to Mayo, my
blood volume is increasing 30-50%, my pulse is increasing, my blood pressure is
dropping, I'm breathing 30-40% more air, and approximately all of my joints and
muscles are moving around. Now that I
believe.
Oh yes, I'm
also studying Chinese. We spent quite a
bit of time reviewing measure words recently.
We have a few measure words, like a pair of pants, a flock of geese, or
a can of Coke. Approximately every
Chinese noun has a distinct measure word (or two or three). Chinese measure words are so numerous they
could almost form their own language. We
also spent some time in general review last week which was very helpful since
I had no recollection of some of the things I had technically learned.
16 Weeks Pregnant |
Juliana: My lack of energy is more than made up for in
Juliana. She has been in very high (not
to mention loud) spirits lately. She
talks a LOT, says lots of funny things, and rather frequently breaks out into
song. Her favorite type of play is
"make them talk": dolls, cars, pieces of train track, silverware -
anything can talk. She's gotten pretty
used to immobile mama and now goes straight to daddy for, "Do you want to
play with me? Do you want to play with
me??!" When she misses mama she
climbs on top of me and jumps around.
Her vegetable intake has suffered with my food intolerances, but I'd say
she's not too close to scurvy. She
doesn't seem to mind all the extra quesadillas she's been eating.
A few weeks
ago Juliana's foot got caught in Kevin's bike wheel resulting in two weeks of
bandaged foot. Kevin had to take her
back to the hospital every couple of days to get the bandage changed, a process
Juliana did not exactly love. She also
couldn't wear her shoe, which meant two weeks of no outside play. Fortunately the foot is all healed up now
except for a bit of remaining scab and scar.
Juliana is more concerned about the "hurt fingers" she gets
three times a day since she got new Mickey Mouse band-aids.
Juliana does an Easter dance to "Up From the Grave He Arose" |
Ruvin the
Second: Now around 4.5 inches long (the
size of an avacado or grenade, whichever image you prefer), baby has doubled in
size in the last couple of weeks. In the
next couple of weeks he'll also double in weight. She can now hear and is sensitive to
light. Probably also sensitive to older
sisterly pokes and jabs. He is making
facial expressions and moving around; I may have felt him, but I'm never paying
enough attention to be sure. While Ruvin is having an ever-present impact on my life and body, I guess all that growing is keeping her pretty quiet.
I suppose these days baby looks something like this |
So that's
what's been happening in our lives. I'll
just leave you with an anecdote from the morning. Juliana worriedly examined a loose hair in
her hand, "My hair! That's my
hair! Can you put it back in?" I tried to explain to her that hair falls out
and grows back in all the time and you can't put it back, but she solved her
own problem. She placed the hair back on
top of her head and said, "I put it back!" I didn't argue.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Ruvin the Second
I told
Juliana, "We have something exciting to tell you!" She looked
appropriately excited and asked, "Is it a present?!" It will be like a present, arriving
awfully close to her birthday and all, but we'll have to wait and see how
excited she actually is. Come September (Juliana's third birthday give or take a few days) Juliana is going to become a
big sister.
We had our
first appointment in Thailand where we got to see the baby for the first
time. When we went into the hospital
Kevin told Juliana, "We are going to find out about your baby brother or
sister." Juliana said, "We're
going to find a baby brother or sister!"
Then spotting a young girl she cried out, "There's a
sister!" We have reason to believe
she doesn't really understand how this works.
Ultrasound from my 13 week appointment |
We are
excited, particularly in the moments when I've not been violently ill. Pregnancy has not been super kind to me thus
far. I was sick with Juliana, but I have
been much sicker this time. I have
figured out why they call it morning sickness - one morning you wake up feeling
really sick...and then it never goes away.
This week I have seen a little improvement though. I've started to make it through some days
without thowing up - a wonderful feeling.
I've even been able to do some things like take a shower and do some
laundry without feeling sick! I have
also been managing to go to class every day, though I can't say a lot for the
study outside of class. It's funny, but
studying Chinese doesn't seem to help the nausea.
I am also hesitantly venturing beyond my 4 safe foods: eggs, bread, cheese, and
milk. Today I actually made and ate
spaghetti! Unfortunately this pregnancy,
I can't handle Chinese food at all. Even
the smell is completely sickening. This
is really a problem when you live in China.
Kevin is having a hard time with food too, mainly because I haven't been
cooking anything. Fortunately there is a
lot of take-out available. Unfortunately
it is all Chinese. I hide in the bedroom
while he eats and then burns candles and fans out the room. I don't know if you've noticed, but Chinese
food SMELLS.
I'm really
looking forward to feeling like a mostly normal person again because these past
couple of months have been pretty miserable.
I think I'm starting to turn a corner though. After losing 6+ pounds, this is the first
week I have actually gained back weight!
It's not often in life you get to be really happy about that.
We have
planned to stay in America this fall, deliver the baby in Georgia, spend some
time with our families on both sides of the country, and return to China after
the winter holiday next year. This means
the baby will be almost 5 months old before his first international travel! Pretty strange if you think about it. It will be nice to not rush home from the
hospital to apply for a passport, and it will also be nice for our family to
have more time around the new baby - and for us to have lots of help. :)
And in case
you were wondering, yes, we will buy Juliana a real birthday present as well.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Self-heating Chinese TV dinner
By Kevin
It felt like I was eating a science experiment.
I'd bought the box of rice topped with a common Chinese pork dish called 鱼香肉丝 (Yu Xiang Rou Si) on a whim last time I went to the grocery store. I thought it might make a quick microwave meal some night when we didn't feel like going out or cooking something else. I figured -- I'd eaten halfway decent Chinese TV dinners in the States many times. Undoubtedly the Chinese could do a better job of it. And I'd never even seen a Chinese TV dinner before in China, I should give it a try. But this was a TV dinner without the microwave.
I noticed Chinese on the front of the packaging saying something about "10 minutes." But surely it wouldn't take that long to microwave it. So I flipped to the side of the box and looked at the English instructions. I was puzzled. Nowhere did it mention the word "microwave" "stove" or "oven" for that matter. I looked back at the front cover and noticed it said something about 自热 (zi re). I knew these two words - "self" and "heat." The English instructions weren't perfect, but they mostly got the idea across (copied literally, so any unclear English or grammar mistakes are entirely theirs):
Directions:
- Remove the plastic wrap, open the lid and remove the dish bag, the wet tissue and the spoon
- Cut the parafilm of rice with the end of a spoon tear off the rice cover, use spoon to stir rice empty the contents of the dish bag pour onto the rice evenly
- Place the lid back on, pull the tape until the red label.
- Wait for 10minutes and enjoy your delicious meal.
- Ensure the lid is tightly closed when pulling the tape. Beware of hot steam during the heating process. It is normal for the lid to rise by approximately 2-3cm while heating. Do not attempt to remove lid during the 10mintue heating process.
- Adult supervision is required for children. Please wait for 15 minutes in the elevation of 3,500 meter above area.
I pulled everything out and looked at it, tearing open the cellophane and dutifully pouring the contents of the "dish bag" onto the rice. Inside the box, underneath the rice tray, was a napkin-wrapped cloth bag containing a powdery substance lying atop a bag of a liquid substance (water perhaps) with a string running across it and outside of the box.
I shoved everything back into the box as if I hadn't done anything to it and tugged (hard) on the string, releasing the water into the bottom of the box, uncertain what exactly I should expect. Amazingly, within a minute, the box began to get warm and a chemical-scented steam began pouring out of the ventilation holes in the top and sides of the box. It was working. Then I remembered those chemical hand-warmers I used a couple times watching high school football games on cold November nights in the States. It must be a similar idea. The chemical smell, however, made me open the window and wonder: is it safe to eat food cooked over a pool of chemicals? It felt like something we would have done in our high school chemistry class. Something that might end in an explosion.
I waited the 10 minutes it suggested to cook it, then remembered that Yinchuan is at about 3,000 feet above sea level. A big difference from 3,000 meters, I know, but it seemed like longer would probably help.
I Googled "self-heating food" and discovered an article from The Guarding titled "Is self- heating the future?" In addition to emergency workers, the author writes, "There should be a market for good self-heating food – for mountaineers, campers and explorers, for luckless fishermen, isolated cottages, power cuts and for the impending global apocalypse. There's a market for it, and nobody's cracked it yet."
I also found a Wikipedia article and some companies in the States selling them. They point to FDA claims that they're safe. OK.
So I pulled the box open and crossed my fingers that the Chinese company is using the heating method approved by the FDA, or at least that the Chinese food safety label on the front of the box means something. There was steam and the food was mostly hot. I poured it onto a plate and stirred it up, but the rice kinda stuck together in semi-hard clumps. I took a deep breath and took a bite. It wasn't terrible. But it was too cold and the rice needed more steaming. I threw it in the microwave for another minute in hopes of softening up the rice. It worked. But it wasn't something I'd purposely eat again, either. The "Yum Flavor" claimed on the cover? Not so much. "100% New Sense." Sure.
If it actually tasted, um, good, it seems like it might appeal to college kids who don't want to go out to eat, since Chinese students aren't allowed to have any sort of cooking equipment in their dorm rooms. However, the 30 RMB price-tag (about $4.75) seems prohibitive. The school cafeteria makes the same dish better at about 1/4 the price. Plenty of local restaurants make it actually taste good better for about half the price).
I found a website from the company (旺禾) with a video demonstrating the heating process. I notice on the page, they also provide microwave instructions. Might be handy to have those on the box, but then again, maybe anyone who buys this is just buying it for the novelty.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
7 Point Summary
I don't feel like writing a real post, so you'll have to settle for a fake one at the moment. Since we last checked in, here's what's been happening:
1. An eventful trip to Thailand. Lots of running in airports. Check out the last post for more details.
2. A relaxing few days on the beach. We even enjoyed the rain, something we rarely see in Yinchuan. Collected some fabulous shells. Built sand houses for Minnie Mouse. Splashed in the pool. Buried Juliana in the sand. Things of that sort.
3. Encouraging conference. Juliana loved childcare and never wanted to leave, a pleasant change from last year. Interesting discussions, catching up with friends, and hearing about what is happening around Asia. Mexican food. Dental appointments. Not necessarily in that order.
4. A less eventful trip back to China, including a bumpy/curvy 3 hour bus ride careening through the mountains. Not my favorite.
5. Meeting up with my parents in Xian! Visiting with half a dozen friends and former students from Weinan. They were all excited to see us and showered Juliana with stuffed bunnies, balloons, and bags of snacks. She was quite receptive.
6. Returned to Yinchuan with my parents. The weather has been much warmer than last year when they visited, so they've been able to see more of the area. Grandpa, Yaya, and Juliana have been busy forming a mutual admiration society.
7. Next week we start back to classes. Although our holiday has been epically long, I'm not at all ready. What language was it we are learning? Next week my parents will also have to return to America. Remind me to check their bags for any small stowaways.
I don't want to upload a bunch of pictures, so just click on this handy link to see all the ones Kevin has already put on Flickr:
The Beach in Thailand
Grandpa and Yaya Visit (plus Lantern Festival and Weinan Students)
1. An eventful trip to Thailand. Lots of running in airports. Check out the last post for more details.
2. A relaxing few days on the beach. We even enjoyed the rain, something we rarely see in Yinchuan. Collected some fabulous shells. Built sand houses for Minnie Mouse. Splashed in the pool. Buried Juliana in the sand. Things of that sort.
3. Encouraging conference. Juliana loved childcare and never wanted to leave, a pleasant change from last year. Interesting discussions, catching up with friends, and hearing about what is happening around Asia. Mexican food. Dental appointments. Not necessarily in that order.
4. A less eventful trip back to China, including a bumpy/curvy 3 hour bus ride careening through the mountains. Not my favorite.
5. Meeting up with my parents in Xian! Visiting with half a dozen friends and former students from Weinan. They were all excited to see us and showered Juliana with stuffed bunnies, balloons, and bags of snacks. She was quite receptive.
6. Returned to Yinchuan with my parents. The weather has been much warmer than last year when they visited, so they've been able to see more of the area. Grandpa, Yaya, and Juliana have been busy forming a mutual admiration society.
7. Next week we start back to classes. Although our holiday has been epically long, I'm not at all ready. What language was it we are learning? Next week my parents will also have to return to America. Remind me to check their bags for any small stowaways.
I don't want to upload a bunch of pictures, so just click on this handy link to see all the ones Kevin has already put on Flickr:
The Beach in Thailand
Grandpa and Yaya Visit (plus Lantern Festival and Weinan Students)
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Flying in the hands of the Maker
by Kevin
We didnt know it, but were about to experience another travel miracle because our lives are in the hands of the maker of heaven.
As we sat down at our gate in Yinchuan, waiting to board our flight, I noticed the sign we dreaded most, "flight delayed." This is was the one circumstance we feared because our two-hour layover in Xi'an didn't leave much leeway for delays. But we figured it was an acceptable risk when we booked because the other available flights all left 4-5 hours earlier. And our Xi'an to Bangkok flight was not only the fastest way for us to get there in one day, but an incredible deal- $150 per person, one way--about half the cost of other options.
When we found out the flight had been pushed back from 12:20 pm to 3:20, we started grasping at straws.
Thankfully we had gotten to the airport more than two hours early, so I quickly used my phone to check if there were any other possible flights we could take that would land in time for ys to make the connection. I remembered that when we were booking there were a couple options that seemed too close for comfort. Indeed there were a few that might possibly get us there in time, but nothing looked promising. The earliest possible arrival was at 2:20. That would give us an hour and five minutes to claim our luggage, check in, get through immigration and security and catch our flight. Not very promising. Another flight would arrive at 2:25 and a third would get in at 2:35. Even worse.
I quickly discovered that if we missed our connection, the earliest we would make it to Bangkok would be the the next day at almost 11 am. We would have to stay overnight in Guangzhoy. Tickets - $334 each. "A thousand dollars," I said pessimisticly, wondering if we would be better off just skipping the days thawing at the beach that we have sorely needed and go straight to our meetings in Chiang Mai.
"Pease God, help us," I prayed quietly. Immediately my mind raced to the travel troubles we had two years ago with Juliana.
Then it went to the story I recently heard about the sovereignty if God and our need to thank him in all circumstances. The story is about a Chinese man living on the border with Mongolia at a time where there were many wars between the countries. One day his horse jumped over the fence and went into Mongolia. The Mongolians stole the horse. The Chinese man's friends came to console him. "Oh what terrible news!" they said. "Why do you think it's bad news?" the Chinese man asked. "Maybe it's a good thing."
After a couple days the mare came back to the man, together with a stallion. The friends came to him and said, "What great news!"
"Why do you think it's good news?" the man asked. "Maybe it's bad news."
Later, while the Chinese man's son was riding the stallion, trying to tame him, he fell and broke his leg. The friends came again. "Oh what terrible news!"
Again the Chinese man said, "Why do you think it's bad news? Maybe it's a good thing."
After a week, another big war broke out between China and Mongolia. A Chinese general came into the town and took all the young men with him to fight in the war. All those young men died, except for the son of the Chinese man. He couldn't go to war because he had broken his leg. The Chinese man told his friends, "See? The things you thought were bad were actually good, and the things you thought were good were bad."
Trevin Wax, The man who told the story, tied it to 1 Thess. 5:16-18:
"Rejoice always. Pray constantly. Give thanks in everything, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."
Really Paul? Give thanks in everything? No matter the circumstance? Even when one delayed flights might cost us more than $1000? Even when we might be adding another day of travel with our sleepy two-year-old?
God's small voice replied, "Even now. Trust me."
Ultimately, We have two ways to respond in difficulty. We can selfishly complain, "why has this happened to me?" Or trust Romans 8:28: "Everything works together for good for those who love God." As my brother just reminded me, we can take the attitude Joseph had toward his brothers, who sold him as a slave into Egypt. "Do not be grieved or angry with yourselves because you sold me here. For God sent me before you to preserve life," Genesis 45:5.
This picture puts God in the center, so somehow I know that even the bad things are working out for his glory and my ultimate joy in him, Wax said.
I admit I was struggling. But I trusted. In spite of my crankiness and pessimism about the immediate circumstances, I let go. I knew it was going to be ok. But it still felt like a crisis. And I needed to do my utmost to try and do something. Anything.
I hurried around the airport to see if there was anyone from air china I could talk with, discovering that I would have to go back outside security. Great.
I rushed to the ticket sales area and thankfully one of the women there spoke good english. She wore a China Eastern uniform. Air China had no agents. My expectations were low. My Chinese is getting better but it seemed unlikely that I would be able to persuade the China Eastern agent to see if she could convince Air China to switch us onto the 1:20 China Eastern flight that would land at 2:20. I didn't even have the cute baby card to play. Ruth was still waiting with her at the gate.
Then she broke the news: the 2:20 China eastern flight and the 2:25 Xiamen Air flight only had first class tickets left. Cost- 1200 Rmb each. Almost $200. And we still might not have enough time to make our connection.
She said there was no way Air China would give us the first class seats even though the delay was their fault. However, she was fairly certain that they would switch us onto the China Southern flight- the flight landing five minutes before check-in for our Thailand flight would close. I debated, then decided that it would at least get us closer to our destination. She wrote down the phone number i would need to call, then shook her head and picked up the phone. "I will help you to do this," she said with a smile that hinted, "maybe their English isnt very good." As she called the airline, I checked prices on flights from Xi'an to Bangkok. Amazingly they were the same as from Yinchuan. "A thousand dollars," I thought to myself.
When she confirmed the tickets could be switched, I decided we needed to risk it on the slim possibility that perhaps the Air Asia flight might be delayed. "I think that is the only way we even have the possibility of getting there today," I told Ruth. She and Juliana were still waiting in the secured area, so they needed to hurry out. We were down to about 40 minutes before the flight would leave.
As they switched us onto the new flight, we hit another snag: our luggage was headed for our delayed flight. "Can you get our luggage out in time?" I asked. "We will have it for you in ten minutes, but you must go downstairs to the lobby and wait."
They printed out boarding passes and told us to come back upstairs when we had the luggage.
I gave Ruth my phone and she went to work calling Air Asia to find out if they knew if the flight would be delayed. By the time she got through, I had the luggage in hand and hurried her to the check in desk. They gave us passes allowing us to rush through security because boarding for the flight would soon close. It was a good thing we didn't get onto the flights with first class seats because we would have missed it. As I handed the guard the passports and boarding passes, Ruth was still talking on the phone, discovering that the Air Asia flight appeared to be on-time and that if we missed it, there was nothing the airline could do. She hung up right as the guard was ready for her to pass the phone thru security.
As we ran to the gate, Juliana in my arms squealed with delight. "We're running!" she yelled joyfully. "We're running!" The sign at the gate said "last call," but we were able to rushed on and find our seats. In the next to last row.
Yet another obstacle. Our next flight might close boarding before we even got off this flight if we had to wait for 200 passengers to exit before us. After takeoff, we explained our situation to a flight attendant. Her English level was low, so she seemed confused about why we would want to be the first to disembark, but we explained that it was the only way it would even be possible for us to make our connection. She said she would see what she could do.
Then we began discussing our options: flights via Guangzhou at 5, 6 or 8. All of which would get us to Bangkok the next day at the earliest. We thought through how, in the inevitable likelihood that we missed our flight, we would first need to book a new flight. Then we would need to hurry and call the guest house we booked at the beach in Thailand so their driver wouldn't start making the three hour drive to pick us up at the Bangkok airport. Then we would need to book a hotel in Guangzhou for tonight.
Then we laid out our plan: we would run through the concourse. Ruth would take the backpack. I would take Juliana. She would go to get the luggage while I ran ahead to the check-in counter. Hopefully it would be among the first off the plane since we were the last to board. We would try and repeat what had just happened: I would run as fast as I could to try to get there in time to check in and get boarding passes without the bags and tell them that my wife would arrive with them a few minutes later.
Did I mention Ruth has had a cold the last few days, so she didn't have a ton of energy.
As we began our decent, the flight attendant returned and ushered us up to three open business class seats. Never sat there before, but apart from a few extra inches of legroom and it being at the front of the plane, it seemed the same as any other seat on the plane.
We rushed off the plane with six minutes left before check-in for our flight would close. Six mintues. Is it even possible to retrieve luggage that quickly, or check-in to a flight? Our main hopes were 1) our Air Asia flight would be delayed or that 2) at least we would be in the right terminal.
Neither happened.
When we landed, we had no idea which terminal we knew we were in Xi'an's terminal 3, but we didn't know if the international terminal had been moved there or if it was where it used to be in terminal 2. And the new terminal is huge. We seemed to be at the farthest end of it.
We were in a movie. One of those old scenes (before security restrictions) where a lovestuck man makes a frantic sprint to the gate in an attempt to try and catch their loved one at the gate, only to miss her as the plane takes off. But in reverse and doubled. We were running out as soon as the door opened.
As I ran, Juliana again giggled her head off. She kept laughing and saying "We're running!" There was nobody in front of us. Just long empty hallway after long empty hallway. Couldn't they have used a closer gate?
After several minutes, winded, I spotted a transfer counter with the first listing of flights. I looked at the flights. Ours was not on it. Every one was domestic. Ours was nowhere to be found. I wasn't sure, but it seemed that waiting for the five people in line would only slow us down further. So I made a guess and turned around: we needed to go to terminal two. Crap. Just then, Ruth was passing me up and we strode into the baggage claim area at the same time. Since she could use a luggage cart to get the luggage and our daughter to the check-in counter, she offered to take Juliana. She could sit on top of the bags and free me up to actually sprint without slowing occasionally to rearrange Juliana in my arms.
I looked out the window and spotted my goal: terminal two. Thankfully I knew what it looked like because of our three years in nearby Weinan. It looked about a kilometer away. I ran. And ran more. I kept running right past the international check-in counters.
Dazed, I asked where Air Asia was. The first woman didn't understand me. The second said "back that way," pointing to the familiar place we often flew from in years past. I hadn't recognized it running in from the new terminal.
I ran. My breath was a simple prayer. "Please."
As I approached, there was nobody in line. All the counters looked closed. A clerk glanced at me and looked away as she walked behind a counter and shuffled some paperwork. I asked if we could still check in for the Air Asia flight. She called over to another man and asked him a question. He looked at his watch and said, "we just closed boarding."
"Our connecting flight was late," I told him between heavy breaths. "I ran all the way from the end of terminal three," pointing out the sweat that stained my t-shirt. "Our first flight was late."
It was 2:54, really my one hope was that it had been delayed.
"Sorry. It is closed," he said. Then he asked, "How many people?"
"Three."
"Ni, ni de lao po he shei?" he moved to Chinese. "You, your wife and who?"
"Wo de nu er. Ta liang sui." I replied. "My daughter. She is two," I added her age in hopes that they might have mercy on us on Juliana's behalf.
"Do you have bags?" he asked.
"Two."
"Where are they? Are they oversized?"
"No normal sized."
"How heavy? More than 15 kg?"
"17 and 18," I answered. We paid for "20 kg each."
"Where are they?" he asked. I will give them until 3 pm to get here. We can't wait any longer than that. We have already calculated the weight. I do not know if they will allow us to let you on."
I called Ruth. The bags were among the first off the plane. She had just gotten them and was racing over the same kilometer I had just run. With a cold.
"Where are they?" he asked nervously after another minute or two.
It was now 3:00, but there was still a tiny chance. They were printing out our boarding passes and making calls to the pilot and the gate.
"Call her again. We can't wait."
Ruth said they were just outside the terminal.
"They are almost to terminal two. They will be here in a minute."
He sent another worker out to look for her. He spotted her rushing down the corridor.
"I think she is coming," he announced.
The man smiled, but didn't say anything. I told him. "We will run."
They weighed the luggage, boarding passes and we hurried to the next stage - the immigration checkpoint. If I had rememberd that we would need to fill out departure cards I could have done it while waiting for Ruth to run. But I forgot, so Ruth and I scribbled our information onto the cards. It was 3:10. Again, there were no other passengers in the area. Just us.
The guard fumbled through our passports looking for our visas. The Air Asia clerk prodded him to hurry. Then he set them down and just asked, in Chinese, "What is your job." "We are foreign students, studying Chinese."
"Where?" In Ningxia. Yinchuan. Ningxia University."
I scrawled it onto the form and stamped our passports, letting us leave Chinese soil. I wondered for a moment what would happen if we missed the plane. Would they let us back onto Chinese soil? The clerk escorted us on to the Security station, I fumbled to get the tablet computer and camera out of the backpack so we could run it through the metal detector. Then hurried through. Then directed us toward the gate. Thankfully the international terminal is so small that it was right after the security check. They were waiting. The door was still open.
We gave the flight attendant our boarding passes, she welcomed us, ran in and sat down in our seats and laughed. "I can't believe it. That was a miracle," I exclaimed to Ruth as we sat, wanting to give every ounce of glory to God. "We had no business making it onto this flight. God is good."
Within seconds they closed the door. It was 3:18. Three minutes later we were taxing down the runway. Then, just a couple minutes after 3:25, we were in the air. My adrenaline still had barely worn off four hours later as we touched down in the Land of Smiles. Nobody wore bigger smiles than us.
A song blaring through my headphones as I typed this on the plane drew me into worship and contemplation.
"I lean not on my own understanding / My life is in the hands of the maker of heaven / I give it all to you god trusting that you make something beautiful out of me ("Nothing I Hold On To" by Will Reagan and United Pursuit).
Two days later as I post this, I can't attribute our making this flight to anyone but God. The number of things that had to go perfectly for us to make it were overwhelming. Though our faith was smaller than a mustard seed, we held into that tread of hope and He carried us. I truly lean not on my own understanding. But when you place your life in the hands of the Maker of Heaven, miracles can happen. He turns those circumstances we dread into something beautiful because it brings him glory and pleasure.
I also gained a new perspective on the passage in James that says, "faith without action is dead." Had we just sat there when we found out that the first flight was delayed and done nothing we would have missed our chance to experience this blessing. Had we limited our actions to the outcomes that seemed most likely, we'd have given up hope and had no faith. But had we only relied on our faith we'd be stuck. But faith accompanied by action is alive. We acted, showing our tiny glimmer of faith. God opened every possible door to make that flicker of faith flame into fire. "I will show you my faith by what I do," James wrote. I am in no way comparing our saving money and time by catching a flight to Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son, whose offspring God had promised would become as numerous as the stars in heavan, but I do think He wants to bless us abundantly and he wanted to show us a reminder of his love for us.
Granted we'll never know what would have happened had we not acted in faith. Had we thrown up our arms, he could have made another way, but it likely wouldn't have caused us to throw our arms up in worship because it would have have cost us $1000 and taken another day since there were no other flight options to get us in tonight. "I lean not on my own understanding."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)