Baby Update

It's amazing how fast they grow.  Juliana has only been out in the world for a little over two months, and she's already gained mad skills.  Every week, she is doing something new.  For example, in the past couple of weeks she has been perfecting the hand-to-mouth action.  She hasn't quite mastered stuffing the entire hand in her mouth, but she sure works hard at it.  In recent weeks she has also learned to:
- Make little bubbles on her lips
- Make the cutest little cooing sounds
- Track well with her eyes - (she will follow me all around the room)
- Hold up her head
- Laughing (well, it's still a little more like a cough/squeal, but the intention is clear)
- Display her emotions with new volume...which is much cuter when she's laughing than when she's screaming-mad
- Sleep in her crib occasionally
- Spit up like crazy (Is this a skill?  Because she sure seems like an expert.)

Most of the time she is a very happy baby, which is nice.  She loves to 'talk' to us and so far has been content with meeting a ton of new people.  In the right mood, she enjoys looking at books and will really follow along with the pictures as I read.  She still loves to be held about 22hrs a day, but now we can also put her down on a blanket on our nice warm floors and she enjoys kicking around.  She is definitely a night owl and usually won't go to sleep before 11 or midnight, but she has been doing better with sleeping for 3 or even 4 hours at a time.  Except for the times when she wakes up every 1.5 hours.  And she has been doing better with falling back asleep after nighttime feedings.  Except for the times when she wants a 3am playtime.  There are some days when I think she is working herself onto a semblance of a schedule, but the next day she usually seems out to prove me wrong.  I have already discovered that babies like to keep you on your toes, making sure you never know what to expect.

This weekend we will travel to Beijing for Juliana's 2 month checkup.  It's really a pain to have to go so far, but a few of the immunizations she needs can only be gotten at an international clinic.  So with all the travel and lots of shots, it's looking to be a long weekend.


That's all of the baby update for now.  I'll just leave you with a few more photos to remind you how cute she is. :)

When central heat becomes central leak

Nov. 17, 2010

by Kevin

Generally “heat day” is a highly-anticipated day in China. At least for those of us living north of the “heat line” an imaginary line (following the Huai River and the Qinling Mountains) that divides Northern China from Southern China and thus divides the country into “buildings with central heat” and “buildings where people freeze for several months unless they can afford to buy some other form of heating.” Some Southerners have even begun to clamor for central heat.

Thankfully, we live just north of the heat line. Ruth spent two years south of the heat line when she was in Yangzhou. I think she was colder than me most of the winter even though the ice was always frozen in Tonghua by early November at the latest and didn't thaw till March at the latest. Why? I had central heating. She just had a small AC/heat unit, space heaters and blankets. They were so inefficient that doctors in Yangzhou sometimes told people to just keep their windows open all winter. Nevermind the frostbite.

Anyway, as November 15 approached, our apartments were getting chilly. The baby's been bundled up in extra layers basically since her arrival in late October. The flipping of the switch that would send heat through the pipes in our floors (a wonderful innovation in a country that rarely uses insulation in it's concrete-walled buildings) eagerly anticipated.

But by the time we went to sleep that night, we hadn't heard the tell-tale trickles of water that indicated the onset of heat.

Then, the next day, again no heat. We began to worry – after all, the heat has ALWAYS been turned on Nov. 15, no matter how hot or cold it is outside. Thankfully, our fears were assuaged when I awoke to warm floors and set off for 8 a.m. class on the morning of the 17^th.

Throughout class, we heard the slithering sounds of water filling pipes, as well as loud clanking. Undoubtedly workers had to fix something, I figured. The shivering students, bundled up in their coats, smiled.

When I went to office hours at 10, my smile quickly faded. The side-effect of water trickling through the pipes was a leak from the radiator in the foreign teacher office/library. At this point, a growing puddle had formed near the desks and computer at one end of the room. So I got on the phone to the foreign affairs officials. They told me that there was some flooding on the second floor, but a worker would be coming soon. Office time came and went with no help. About four hours later, when Ruth was in the office, the workers arrived and proceeded to inspect the radiator and remove it from the wall.

Naturally, they didn't drain the water out first, so filthy, rusty, grimy coffee-grind looking water splattered onto the wall and poured across the entire floor. Thankfully China doesn't do carpet. They tried to shut off the incoming water, but a steady leak continued to drip onto the floor. They put a small basin underneath it, but it was full within a few minutes, so they opened the window and began bailing it out. Just before Ruth's office time ended, the workers left. The drip continued. They made no indication of whether or not they would return, so I wrapped up the baby and headed for the office so I could pass her off to Ruth and wait for them to return.

Again, I told the school about the situation. They assured me that the workers would return. I got to work cleaning the floor. Some of you may remember a post earlier this summer about the flooding of the basement in Georgia this summer. If I was superstitious, I'd think it had followed me. But in the process, I'd become quite adept at getting water off the floor. The mop didn't help much because it didn't absorb enough water. Instead, I grabbed brooms and began sweeping into the hallway. The workers returned, grabbed the radiator and carried it off. Again, with no indication of whether or not they would return. “The entire floor is wet. Do you know if the workers will return?”

The response: “They left to repair the radiator. After it is repaired they will return again.”

“When will that be?” I wondered.

“They will call me,” she replied.

Why did I even bother asking?

Soon, a trio of concerned students arrived and offered to help. Before I could turn them down, they had mops and brooms in hand and went to work. Unfortunately, by this time, my 4 p.m. class was about to start. Kelly had just finished teaching her third class of the day and was exhausted, but she hurriedly went back to her apartment, changed her clothes and returned to bail water for a couple hours. Again, I told the school officials. Naturally, the worker responsible for unlocking the door to a computer classroom didn't show up until 20 minutes late. It was just one of those days.

Since our school was going to be hosting a banquet at 6, again, I pestered the school officials. “Will they be back to fix it in time for the banquet? I have to go to teach, but now Kelly and some students are trying to clear the water so it doesn't damage the furniture or the books.”

“I am coming,” she replied. Finally.

I had to go teach my class. Naturally, since nothing was going right, the worker who is responsible for unlocking the door to my multimedia classroom didn't show up, so we waited in the hallway for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, Kelly and some students bailed water and cleared the floor.

After class, I went to check on the progress. The workers had just arrived. Our banquet was supposed to begin now (Sherri, our PA was in town and the school always throws us a banquet when she comes), but we waited while the workers attempted to install the repaired radiator. The drips continued until the workers realized that they might need to install a washer onto the pipe. I can't help but wonder if this would have solved the problem in the first place, but I tried to keep my mouth shut.

Flustered, we headed off to our banquet.

On the plus side: now we have so much heat that we can see Juliana's hands and have to crack the windows to keep from sweating.

Chinese Grannies

On pleasant days, Chinese grannies congregate on the benches outside our apartment complex, chatting and sunning themselves (if it counts as sunning when you are wearing 2 layers of long underwear).  Today as we headed out for a walk, our path took us right through the center of the group.  I was wearing Juliana in my Moby wrap, so it took them a minute to notice her.  Once they did, they eagerly swarmed in.

They touched her cheeks, plucked at her clothes, tugged curiously on the wrap, removed her pacifier, and pulled up her hat to examine the foreign baby's hair.  They smiled and exclaimed and talked excitedly about this strange little foreign baby.

And they criticized.  "Tai leng le!" (Too cold!)  The baby could probably be so layered she looked like a ball and they would still say she wasn't wearing enough layers.  When they heard she was only a month and a half old, they exclaimed, horrified, "Tai shao le!" (Too small!).  In Chinese tradition, babies don't go out until they are three months old.  They expressed their concern that the baby should not be curled up in the wrap.  They said a bunch of other stuff we didn't understand, but tongue clicking and head shaking seem to be universal signs of disapproval.

Sometimes it's hard to receive continual criticism, but I have to remember that giving advice and being critical is a cultural way of showing you care about others.  You could say that criticism is a Chinese love language.  And the grannies weren't mean about it - they smiled despite their disapproval.  We smiled, accepting the criticism, and continued on our walk.  It's hard to argue with a billion people and thousands of years of tradition.  Some battles you're just never going to win.  So we smile and nod and keep being the crazy foreigners that we are.

Swimming Babies

Yesterday we learned about a new phenomenon: swimming babies!  Well, apparently it's not new, but it's the first I had heard of it.  In China, babies who are newborn to a few years old can compete in swimming contests.  Our student said that her niece (3 months old) recently won a baby swimming contest held by the local hospital.
A little inner-tube is put in around the baby's neck and they flail around.  The idea is a little weird, but I bet the babies like it!  Want to see more?  Click here.  We're off to buy an inner-tube for Juliana.  If she starts practicing at bath time, I bet she can be the next champion.

Juliana meets the Masses

by Ruth

Juliana had her first student debute today. I had four different classes of students I taught for the past two years, and I promised to introduce the baby to them. It worked out well because two of the groups had a class together in the early afternoon, and the other two had class in the same room during the late afternoon period. So we headed over to the classroom building in the break between classes.

I told them beforehand that I would bring the baby around, to stay in their places instead of all crowding up at once, but that didn't actually happen of course. We walked into the room and were immediately mobbed by excited students.

Can you find the foreigner?

They all marvelled at her white skin and were especially enamored by her little nose. One commented on her double-lidded eyelids (a lot of Chinese don't have the eyelid crease and think it is more beautiful to have one). They tentatively reached out a finger to touch her cheek (what does a foreigner baby feel like anyway?) and then quickly drew away like she might break.

Juliana slept peacefull through it all. A couple of students asked, "Why are her eyes closed? Can she open her eyes?" I explained that she was sleeping, and yes, she did sleep a lot but sometimes she opens her eyes too. I'm guessing these are the students who haven't spent much time around babies.

They all thought she was cute and lovely. Naturally.

Bolting the scene

by Kevin

When we first came to China, we were instructed that if we were ever in a taxi that got into an accident, we should leave the fare on the driver's seat and bolt the scene. As far as I can remember, last night was my third or fourth China accident, but first in a taxi. I've been in a bus that clipped a car, a van that hydroplaned into a highway pylon (a few weeks ago, on the way back from the airport). Thankfully, the lack of seatbelts here hasn't been a problem because most crashes in China are low speed.

Last night, as we headed off for dinner, our taxi was stuck behind a slow moving electric bike. Less than a block after we got into the car, the electric bike in front of us suddenly stopped. I'm not sure if the driver purposely stopped or if the power to his bike cut off. Our taxi driver safely slammed to a stop a few meters away from the bike. But then the bike driver did something unexpected--he started rolling the bike backwards and slammed its back wheel into the front of the taxi.

Nobody was hurt, but the bike rider glared and swore at the taxi driver. The taxi driver glared and swore back and got out. In China, typically, anytime there's an accident everyone leaves their vehicles in the middle of traffic and gets out to start arguing over whatever small amount the at fault driver can pay for repairs since nobody has insurance. As Peter Hessler notes in his excellent book Country Driving, usually the payoff for a small accident might run in the neighborhood of a few hundred RMB ($30-$50). Every other car is left with the responsibility of finding a way around. Our little side road to the east gate was immediately clogged with traffic that couldn't move.

Since nobody was hurt, there clearly was no damage with a half-mile-per-hour collision, and he wasn't at fault, no doubt our driver began to explain that he didn't need to pay this possibly drunken electric bike rider anything. An argument ensued.

We started asking ourselves. "When should we get out and find a new taxi?"

The answer came quickly. As crowds began to gather around our taxi (anytime there's an accident, crowds of pedestrians seem to gather to see what might happen next), the bike rider rolled his bike backwards into the taxi, crashing into the front bumper again. This time with slightly more force than the first accident. He then put his hand on his butt and grimace, feigning injury. The driver argued, then escorted the man and his electric bike to the sidewalk. Then they started throwing punches. Nothing that would draw blood -- or probably even bruises, but punches nonetheless. The driver got the biker into a headlock and onto the ground. Then they scrambled to their feet. As we got out of the taxi, we quickly picked up our pace toward the next road, where we might be able to find another taxi, the men were sparring.

We figured that though we may have been the only witnesses who could substantiate what had happened, we'd better err on the side of caution. Sometimes a crowd mentality can escalate violence and redirect it at the foreign faces. Particularly if they thought that somehow we had caused the accident. We figured the police can find us easily enough if they need witnesses to corroborate, but since a police car drove out the street just as we were leaving, we figured this "accident" would never get that far.

Errands and arrival

by Kevin

Ruth, Juliana and Candy are here. All napping, as they should be after 37 hours of travel (about 24 of those spent in the air). It is good to have them back. They are understandably exhausted, but Ruth said the baby rested alot, so that is a blessing.

I really have nothing to complain about, but I thought I would share an interesting cultural experience on the way to pick them up.

The school sent the van to pick me up at 8 a.m., 4 hours before the flight was to land, because we needed to go to Xi'an to pick up some health documents and for the new Japanese teacher to pick up his "luggage." Naturally, the driver came more than a half hour late because he needed to get "oil" (or gas?) for the van, which required him to drive all the way across town (apparently the closest gas station). Thankfully, this is a small town.

The school won't let any of the foreigners go to Xi'an on our own, at least for a couple of weeks. There have been reports of anti-Japan rallies in Xi'an, in which thousands of students carried anti-Japan banners and handed anti-Japanese slogans for awhile, until finally taking out their frustrations on Japanese cars and stores selling Japanese-banded electronics both of the last two weekends, so the school asked us not to go and now sends a security guard to escort the Japanese teachers anytime they want or need to leave the campus. (Thankfully this policy was implemented 2-3 hours AFTER I got to Xi'an last weekend for team leader meetings). Sometimes this sort of thing can get out of hand and spread to ANY foreigner, so I can understand the school's fears. Anyway, this meant that our trip would be more than just a jaunt to the airport. The new Japanese teacher has actually lived in Xi'an for 5 years and speaks excellent Chinese. He is currently finishing a master's degree in the city, which explains why he has an apartment there. It also explains why it took more than an hour and a half for him to get his "luggage" loaded into the van.

As we pulled up to the apartment building, he explained that his girlfriend, a Chinese woman, lives in the apartment. He hadn't seen her in almost three months. When we arrived, none of his things were packed. He'd simply left his belongings behind and went home to Japan for the summer. So, as his girlfriend served tea and chocolates, the school official and I sipped and watched the two frantically pack several boxes full of books and clothing and assorted other things. Suddenly, a half-hour into our stay, the school official suggested that perhaps she could retrieve the documents now instead of waiting until after the packing was done -- or worse -- after the plane arrived. The government office wasn't far away, so she made it back before the packing was done.

Thankfully, that meant that we made it to the airport just as the plane landed. As we waited, several of the tallest Chinese men I'd ever seen sauntered through the airport. I wonder if they are part of the Chinese basketball team, set to play the American team on the 31st at the arena adjacent to our school. Can't seem to find any info apart from the big banners near the street and in the park. Could be interesting.

Have Baby, Will Travel

Juliana, already an expert with chopsticks, is all ready for China.

Though it's still a week away, I have already begun packing for our trip back to China.  The floor is strewn with suitcases.  One suitcase is almost completely full of baby clothes, de-aired and compressed in Ziplock bags.  I believe I have mentioned before that we have a LOT of baby clothes.  Which is probably good, because some days she does go through the outfits.  Chinese people would undoubtedly be appalled by how much stuff we're bringing.   They were already amazed by the three baby things we had before we left, and now we have about three hundred baby things.  Three hundred baby things that somehow have to make their way across the world.  Thus, the packing.

The other day we calculated that the total trip will take about 37 hours.  37 hours!  Assuming there are no delays.  I'm used to long trips, but that's a really long trip.  With an infant.  And three hundred baby things.  How many diapers does one need for 37 hours?  How many changes of clothes - for baby and for you, after she spits up and/or poops on you three hours into the trip?  I am not looking forward to this.  I am really glad my mom is going to be there too.  I can't imagine trying to do it by myself.  Yikes.

Hopefully Juliana will be a good traveler.  If she's not, the next...oh...rest of her life...are not going to be fun.  Actually, this might be the easiest trip we take with her for a long time, while she is still unable to get around on her own.  She does like lots of noise and movement, so hopefully she will be lulled by airplane.  And the jetlag might not be as bad for either of us, since she still hasn't quite figured out night and day.  Besides, we will be so dead exhausted that time itself will probably have very little meaning.

Kevin has already been back in China for a week and a half or so.  I know he misses Juliana.  He has gotten to talk with her several times on video Skype.  When she hears her daddy's disembodied voice, she turns and looks perplexedly toward the camera, and then amuses him by going through her series of funny expressions.  The wide-eyed shocked face. The yawn.  The concentrated stare.  The sleepy-grin.  And my favorite: the shiny eyed, open mouthed, delighted-to-see-you smile.

Juliana continues to get cuter every day.  You wouldn't think it possible, yet somehow it happens.  She has started having longer periods of being awake (some of them even during the day...), and most of the time she is quite happy.  She still loves to be held about 22 hours a day, but she has also been spending some happy time lying on a blanket on the floor, looking around and wiggling her legs and watching me pack.  When she wakes up at night, she loves to stare at the patterns on the ceiling made by beside lamp.  During the day, she especially likes to rock on the front porch swing (like a true Southern girl), look at the books in the library (a good sign for her literary future), and snuggle up with anyone willing to hold her.  And with the progression of visitors - first her Nana and Gramps and great-grandfather from California and then all her aunts - there have been plenty of people eager for a turn.

All the sisters

Tomorrow Juliana goes to the doctor for her one month checkup.  She is already one month old!  And still smaller than a lot of babies are when they are born.  She has grown, though, and is fitting much better into her newborn clothes.  She is already changing too - eating better, becoming more sociable, sometimes sleeping longer (4 hours a couple of times!  Incredible!), getting more expressive, and yes, even cuter.

Fun with names

by Kevin

Sometimes you just wonder what these students are thinking. I've been back in Weinan for about three days now and have already taught three slightly jetlagged classes and managed to have both computers here breakdown.

But one thing that always brightens my day at the beginning of a new semester is seeing and hearing the English names my students have chosen. Usually, I pass around a list on the first day of class and encourage them to take their pick. But since I wasn't here for their first lesson this year, the students had already made their choices. In addition to normal everyday names like Mike and Sam and Victor and Amy and Sally and Lisa, I always wind up with a handful of oddball names.

For example, I asked if my class yesterday had selected a monitor yet. The girl shyly stood up. "Do you have an English name yet?"

"Yes," she said, sheepishly. "Leaves-a."

"Lisa?" I asked, not sure if I heard her right?

"No, Leaves-a," she said. It hit me that she was adding an extra syllable onto the end of her name, as Chinese students often do.

"I've never heard someone use that as a name," I told her.

Usually I encourage them to change them because no native speaker would take you seriously if you introduced yourself as "Leaves." Probably not even if you were wearing tie-dye.

But hers was only one of many strange names that showed up when I asked students to list their English names.

Some, I can't help but wonder if they are misspellings. There's YaLianna, but maybe she just has a hard time saying Lilian or Lianna. There's Buluce (Bruce?), Mria or Mvia (I couldn't quite read her handwriting, but perhaps she meant Mia or Maria? Lijaky (Leejay?), Selar (Stella/Star?), Shasha ("Sasha?) Aileen (Eileen?), Kaia (Kayla/Kay?), Kathyria (Kathryn?), Felice (Felicia?), Sunna (Sunny?).

In one class, I was scanning the list and found a Shannor. I figured that surely she meant Shannon, until I went further down the list and found another girl named Shannon (we try to encourage students to not choose the same name as a classmate).

Others like Still , Lemon, Tiramisu, Fantasy, Lucky, Delta, Cherry and Willow are at least words, even if their usefulness as names is a bit questionable. If only a few had chosen pronouns, prepositions or conjunctions as names, you could make sentences just from their names they choose.

Lenka Hopes that Milo Still likes Tiramisu, Coco and Candy, but Cher's Fantasy is to eat Lemons and Cherries with Bella under the Willows on the Delta in the Summer under the Starrs.

The upside of these names is they're a lot easier to remember than Vivian, Ann, Sarah and Amy (Almost every class tends to have at least one of these). So now the decision, should

Holiday in China

Wonder what happens when 1.3 billion people all go on vacation at the same time?
This week is National Holiday in China.  On Saturday, 122,000 people attempted to visit the Forbidden City.  Just think, this could be you.
They should really make a "Where's Waldo?" China edition.