Do you miss China?

It is another one of those questions like “How are you adjusting to America?” and “Where are you from?” and “Do you love China?” that leaves me fumbling and confused.  In an eloquent attempt to convey the complexity of my feelings, I typically say something like, “Um, kind of…”

Besides, saying, "No, I don't miss China" is as awkward as saying, "No, I'm not excited about returning to America."  I don't know why - people should be impressed that I'm so content in (or at least unwilling to leave) my current location, wherever that may be.

I told my friend (who lives in China), “I don’t miss China, but I miss our lives in China, if that makes sense.”  She thought it made perfect sense.  

I don’t miss the stares and attention every time we go outside.  I don’t miss the lack of mental healthcare and the general questionable healthcare.  I don’t miss the pressure of knowing we are supposed to be Doing Something Significant and knowing everyone is watching us and thinking how weird we are.  I don’t miss the pollution or the ugly buildings.

But I do miss some things about China.

I miss the relative simplicity.  There is so much less to buy, because we don’t have space for it anyway, and we already have more things than most people around us.

I miss walking and biking and driving our san lun che.  Even though a van is so convenient and much more comfortable, I like being in contact with the world instead of being sealed away.

I miss the roadside peddlers, their big metal drums baking sweet potatoes or their giant walks frying up rice and noodles.  I miss our fruit seller, who was always so happy to see us and gave us bags of free damaged fruit.

I miss the hijabs and the Hui beards and the smiles I associate with them.  I miss the friendly Muslim guys selling flatbread.  I miss learning about the cultures within the culture - Hui, Uighur, Kazakh.  There is a camradere in being the odd ones out.

 I miss Adalyn’s smile she comes out of Chinese kindergarten, holding her teacher’s hand.  I miss how enchanted everyone is with Nadia. I miss seeing Juliana talk easily with her Chinese friends.  I miss her dance class and her international school and her Norwegian best friend.

I miss my own friends.  My city friends have know each other for 7 years, and some countrywide friends for 13 years.  We understand each other because we live the same kind of strange lives.

I miss the Chinese old women dancing every morning in the park, even when it is 15F outside.  I miss the parks and even the crowded buses, because I don’t ride them too often.  I miss Chinese food and all our favorite restaurants.

I miss the mountains and the sunsets on clear days.  I miss fall leaves and spring flowers and winter's frozen lakes.  I miss the familiarity of our two square miles of everyday life.

So yes, I guess I do miss China.  Missing a place is not all or nothing, not pure love or hate; life is never that simple.  I am not ready to return, but I think in another 6 months I will be.  After all, it has become our home.

Excuse Me While I Turn Off The Lights

I am the one going around turning off the lights and turning down the music. I hate using overhead lights. During the day, our apartment fortunately gets enough natural light that we rarely need them. By the time the sun starts to go down, I switch to lamps as soon as possible. The light doesn’t just hurt my eyes; it hurts my sensibilities.

This year I discovered I am highly sensitive.

I had heard people talk about being highly sensitive, but since I didn’t really understand what that meant, I didn’t think it applied to me. I’m not that sensitive. I don’t cry all the time. Which is true. But that’s not really what it means to be a highly sensitive person.

A highly sensitive person (HSP) is one who processes everything more and is extra sensitive to the subtleties around them. Because they are observing and processing everything, they are easily overstimulated. They also tend to have strong empathy for others, perhaps because they are in tune to others’ moods and needs. Being highly sensitive is not a disorder – there are good and bad things about it. About 30% of the population (around the world and across species) is thought to be highly sensitive.

It is easy for an HSPs to get overstimulated, and when we do we tend to shut down and become less sensitive than others. Lights and noise become unbearable, and we just want to lie down in a dark, quiet room to recover. I think of it as a migraine of the nervous system.

For me, noise is a big stressor. I live with three small, very big noise makers in a country that loves firecrackers, megaphones, and blaring music from competing stores. When Nadia is crying and Adalyn is screaming and Juliana is whining, I feel like my head is going to explode. Last year I often thought the official emoticon for mom-of-three should be an exploding head.

Background noise is very distracting. Trying to talk to someone in a restaurant when the background music is slightly too high and other people are talking nearby is stressful. I have a hard time concentrating and I know I will feel frazzled after a while. A truly loud restaurant, supermarket, or shopping area is hard to handle, and even the humming of the refrigerator is annoying.

When I started reading about being highly sensitive, it was like dozens of lightbulbs going off in my head (which you know, is quite overstimulating). It all made so much sense! It explains why I often get so stressed by normal life things that don’t seem to bother others quite so much. I always feel tired and dazed after going to the supermarket, in China or America. There are so many lights and so many people (here), music, noise, choices, and so much visual stimulation. I find myself staring blankly at a row of vitamins trying to figure out what I came to find (even though I have a list in hand) and how quickly I can get out of there.

I try to keep my home neat and decluttered because I am very easily visually stressed. Of course, since I live with a bunch of very effective mess-makers, my cleaning attempts seem rather futile. Every time I walk into a room I notice the 15 random toys and items on the floor and the papers piled up on the counter. On those rare occasions when the toys are picked up and the surface are clear and the couch cushions straightened, I feel so much more at peace and in control of life.

It also perhaps explains why I love familiarity. There are plenty of places in the world I’d like to see, but I don’t actually want to go to new places. I can’t appreciate them as much as the places I have already been to multiple times. I am fine with eating the same food over and over again. I re-read books more often than I read new ones, and I’ve read my favorite books at least half a dozen times. I listen to the same album of music for months, and I almost always dislike new music – even new albums by my favorite artists – until I am familiar with it.

Life as an HSP can be tiring because your brain is constantly working hard to decode all the little nuances of life. I think of it like functioning in another language/culture. In a Chinese environment, I have to be extra alert, working to understand not only what is being said but what is being implied. What is the cultural context behind this? Are they subtly angry with me? Is there something I am missing? Am I communicating clearly – not only the right words but the right message? This is a little what normal life as an HSP is like, even in your own culture/language.

In reading about highly sensitive people, I understood a huge source of stress that I had been ignoring. I had recognized the burnout, the constant exhaustion and over-stimulation, but I didn’t understand where it was coming from. If everyone else could handle the normal life stimulation just fine and I couldn’t, it must mean that something was wrong with me.

I know my depression and anxiety have a genetic and hormonal component. But I realize they are also exasperated by trying to be something I am not. I am trying to understand myself better – my strengths and limitations and uniqueness, so I can be true to who I am, without constantly comparing myself to others and how I “should be.”

I am learning that I need naps. Partly because I’m tired and have been sleep deprived more years than not. But also because I really need some quiet time, devoid of any sensory input, to make it through the whole day. Fortunately I live in a country that believes in after lunch rest time (as do many countries because they are really smart), so I am also being culturally appropriate.

I am becoming more aware of over-stimulating situations and realizing I will need some quiet time afterwards to avoid immediate irritation and long-term burnout. I am learning that yoga helps in refocusing and coping with the physical stress of over-stimulation. I need to get out of the loud, messy house and walk (with earbuds in so I can pretend there aren’t hundreds of people around). I need to sit in my chair on the laundry porch and decompress. I need a relatively clean house so I don’t feel constantly stressed out by my surroundings. I need moments of peace and quiet for my physical and mental health.

I realize this post is mostly related to the negative parts of being highly sensitive.  It is true that being an HSP is not a bad thing, but I usually have an easier time recognizing my limitations, so I am still learning how to appreciate being highly sensitive.  To be honest, I think I have spent enough time lately in the "overstimulated" state that I haven't been able to tap into the benefits.hig  I'll let you know if I have any great breakthroughs in understanding.

It’s crazy to think that 1 of every 3 people may be highly sensitive. If you suspect you may be highly sensitive, you can take this helpful test here, created by the author of The Highly Sensitive Person. She says if you score more than 14 of 27 you may be HSP. I scored 21, so I guess that’s pretty definitive.

I read a couple of related useful books and articles this year.

1. The Highly Sensitive Person – this was a real eye-opener in explaining what it meant to be highly sensitive - and that it wasn’t a bad thing. I loved the book initially but as it wore on I got a little bit annoyed because the author is just so sensitive. Not being very emotionally sensitive, this got on my nerves. She talks about how being highly sensitive effects childhood, jobs, and relationships, but the section on parenting was laughable. Seriously half a page which said, “Many HSPs choose not to have children. But if you do, you’ll probably be a good parent.” Um, thanks. That’s so helpful. Fortunately I found a few other blogs that were much more helpful (see below).

2. Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Won’t Stop Talking – (You could probably find this at the library) This book was more about introverts than HSPs, although she does talk about HSP’s as well. I highly recommend this one to anyone who is an introvert or knows one (so yes, everyone.) I particularly appreciated the cultural aspect of this – her exploration of western culture (especially Americans’) idealization of the popular, gregarious type. This sounds simple, but it was actually huge for me to recognize that extroversion is a cultural ideal, not a mandate.

3. Abundant Mama has some good articles about recognizing if you are highly sensitive http://www.abundantmama.com/highly-sensitive-mom/ , tips http://www.abundantmama.com/tips-for-highly-sensitive-moms/ , and how it affects parenting http://www.abundantmama.com/highly-sensitive-mom-2/

You Might Be A China Foreigner If...

...an abnormal number of your family pictures were taken in airports

1. You frequently refer to yourself as “a foreigner.”
2. When you walk in the house, the first thing you do is shed your shoes.
3. You have a container of air filter masks beside your door.
4. Most of your friends have a drawer of reused ziplock bags.
5. You make home repairs with chopsticks, coat hangers, and random pieces of wood.
6. Your friends think your home repairs are ingenious instead of trashy
7. You give and receive cereal for Christmas.
8. You have carried a stroller, a baby, and groceries up 4-6 flights of stairs.
9. Taxi drivers frequently ask how much money you make.
10. You have asked other people about their salary, age, weight, or how much they paid for their belongings
11. You plan your laundry by how many clothes you can dry on your laundry porch
12. You have favorite cities from which to browse the internet via VPN (I’m partial to Toronto)
13. You have at least 25 backup locations for your VPN and routinely go through 3-6 of them trying to get a connection.
14. People stop in the road, or slow down to drive right next to you, so they can stare at you.
15. You have ever inadvertently caused a traffic accident because someone was staring at you while driving.
16. A friend has told you you look fat to your face and doesn't expect you to be offended.
17. Your children frequently confuse the American and Chinese flags, because they both have some stars.
18. Some part of your ceiling is crumbling, but then so is everyone else’s.
19. Your refrigerator is in a room other than your kitchen.
20. One third of your small freezer space is filled with either coffee or cheese.
21. You have been criticized for not dressing your baby in thick, padded layers when it is 80*F outside.
22. Your 1-2 month old baby is met with horror instead of delight - because what are you thinking bringing them outside??
23. Your “family vehicle” is half the size of a compact car and maxes out at 25mph.
24. You have ever had a stranger show at your door and try to invite themselves in to hang out with you.
25. You have ever had a stranger follow you around the supermarket, down the road, or back to your apartment, begging you to tutor their child or teach at their school.
26. You have ever had a strange guy try to get your phone number - and he wasn’t hitting on you.
27. A child has ever stopped and stared at you open mouthed or run away screaming.
28. You have ever looked outside your window and noticed half a dozen new high rise buildings going up.
29. One of your first thoughts when pregnant is, "What country will we have the baby in?"
30. Your friends think you are strange for not leaving your baby in another country with the grandparents.
31. Your unborn baby has ever been complimented on her "tall" nose and foreign features.
32. You have ever had a doctor call out your weight, lift up your shirt, or discuss bodily symptoms in front of a room full of (fascinated) strangers.
33. You have been asked why your 1 year old baby is still in diapers.
34. You choose your clothing based on how well it will survive in the washer, how quickly it will line dry, 
35. You choose pajamas that are acceptable for your neighbors to see, because at least 50 windows look into your own.
36. You have an ayi who helps clean your house or babysit your children - amaaaaaazing.
37. Your ayi loves your family and also thinks you are insane.
38. Your floor looks dirty 30 minutes after mopping, even though you never wear shoes inside.
39. You start to wonder if you did get sick because of going barefoot on tile, drinking cool water, or sitting in front of a fan.
40. Your doctor or nurse has taken pictures with you or your children.
41. Whenever you travel, you wear your heaviest shoes.
42. You have ever traveled with a backpack that was heavier than your checked bag…and you weren’t backpacking.
43. You prefer squatty-potties in public because you don’t have touch anything.
44. You are shocked and excited to find soap in a public bathroom.
45. You have ever carried a tiny cup of urine across an entire hospital to the lab.
46. You have ever rifled through 50 strangers’ lab results to find your own.
47. You request everyone buy your children small, lightweight toys.
48. The concept of closets is now a little perplexing to you.
49. You have a fruit lady, a bike guy, a milk guy, a vegetable lady, and a honey guy.
50. You buy your meat in the morning before it gets too hot.
51. Your milk, eggs, noodles, and soup all come in little plastic bags.
52. Your children will only eat yogurt if it comes through a straw.
53. When you have been to a restaurant the waitresses have “borrowed” your baby to show around - leaving you with free hands for eating!
54. You have biked in a skirt or holding an umbrella.
55. You consider any flight less than 6 hours “short.”
56. You ask your friends questions like, “Where do you find three ring binders? Who is your online cheese seller?”
57. Your children are photographed by strangers pretty much every day.
58. There are literally thousands of pictures of your children all over the internet.
59. Whenever you go to a tourist attraction, tourists are as interested in you as the famous site.
60. You have ever gotten your picture in the paper for wearing short sleeves before May 1^st.

Still Pretty Foreign

I am sitting in a tiny chair, listening to Juliana's kindergarten teacher rattle off a bunch of instructions to parents, thinking, “I don't know Chinese. At all.” The other parents are looking glassy-eyed after two hours of sitting around, but at least they can understand what the teacher is saying. These are all the specific things your child should have in their backpack. Don't just pack all their favorite snacks (I'm looking at you grandparents). This is the new procedure for picking up your kids. And fifteen minutes of other stuff I have no clue about.

I have the idea that after this many years, living in a foreign country should be easy. It should, right? We have lived here for the most part of twelve years. I have spent nearly a third of my life – pretty much all of my adult life – in China. It feels like home. Sort of.

It also never ceases to feel like a foreign country. The habits and customs of our childhood culture run deep. I am fascinated by culture because it influences us so profoundly in ways we don't even realize. After all these years, a lot of the things that bother me are not necessarily bad, they are just still so different.

I grew up in the suburbs and then in the country, where my family were the only inhabitants of 6.5 acres of peaceful nature, 30 miles from the city. Now I live in a country with 1.3 billion people, in a city, on a small campus with 20,000 students packed 6 to a dorm room.

The walls of our fifth floor apartment seem thin. In reality, I hear little from our neighbors, but I am aware of their nearness. I am particularly aware of the ones below us, who undoubtedly hear plenty of jumping and stomping and screaming. They kind of scowl when they see us outside. We hear the laughter of students, the rattling of carts, and the roar of trucks bumping along the road just below us. Over a hundred windows look into our own.

Outside, we are watched. Not in a creepy way, but there are always people around, and they are always curious about the foreigners. Random strangers turn to watch us every day, every where we go. Students gasp as they catch sight of the girls, taking their pictures or summoning the courage to say hi. The girls are used to this attention but they do not always receive it benevolently.

Even Juliana, attention lover that she is, gets tired of people touching her. After stopping a random stranger on the street who is trying to pick up Adalyn, I explain to her, “You don't have to let people touch you and hold you. If you don't like that it's okay to say so. But you do need to be kind.” I watch Nadia closely to see how she responds – is she comfortable with the attention or do I need to intervene? Will this person be gentle or pushy? Why do people love playing the “I'm going to steal you away from your parents” game? What kid thinks that is funny?

Our own neighbors are familiar with us. They watch us kindly as if we are unusual but relatively normal people. At the park or the supermarket or on the street, however, we are more of a spectacle. In their excitement or curiosity, strangers sometimes forget we are real people, not just a fascinating display for their viewing, touching, picture taking pleasure.

Our weirdness comes out in the most normal of circumstances. I think about it whenever I drink cold water or eat bread instead of rice or put on a bike helmet or home-school my daughter or write with my left hand or step outside the door with my white face. I am foreign. I will always be foreign.

There are other stresses in China that I am realizing will never go away. Language has always been a stress. Even after all these years, it is still a big challenge. Chinese is no joke! Kevin teaching English and me spending so much time at home with kids does not place us in optimal language positions. We can do all the basics and carry on conversation, but there are always things I don't understand.

Almost every Chinese conversation involves stress. Even if I do understand everything, or enough to get the general idea, there is always the fear that I won't understand and will look like an idiot. Or I will understand but won't be able to think of all the right words to respond. When I interact with Juliana's teachers I want to say, “Really, I'm smart! I know I sound like your kindergarteners, but I actually have a masters degree!”

I feel stress whenever the children are sick – will they need to go to the hospital, where I don't fully understand the doctor and don't necessarily trust what he says anyway? Will people blame me for not putting enough clothes on them or feeding them the right food or letting them sit on the tile floor?

There is the stress of travel – the ridiculous 30+ hour trips to see our family and the jetlag and the suitcases and the children shuffled from one place to the next with too little routine and too little sleep.

I feel the stress of uncertainty – What if something happens and we have to leave China? What if the school decided they didn't want us to live here anymore? Will Juliana be able to go to primary school part time next year and how will we figure out the system? Will Adalyn's kindergarten teachers know what to do with a foreign kid, and how will she handle being the only foreign kid in an all-Chinese environment?

There is the stress of responsibility – Am I using my time well? Is it worth us being here? Are we spending enough time with students? Why don't we know our colleagues better? Are we friendly enough with our neighbors? At the end of the day how do you ever do enough?

Many things about life are easier than the used to be. We understand the culture much better, but with children we are constantly venturing into new aspects of life. Just like everyone, we worry about their schooling and their social life – and we also worry about how they are handling always being the weird ones.

So what do we do with these stresses? That is what we are trying to work out. I think the first step is recognizing these areas are still challenging so we can give ourselves grace.  Beyond that...well, I'll let you know when we figure it out.

Internet Shopping and The Trouble with Numbers

One delivery company has packages piled up on the ground just before classes let out.  A few minutes later the whole area was filled with lines of waiting students.

It was only several years ago when we asked students about online shopping and they said, “Oh no, we wouldn't do that. We couldn't trust it.” Judging by the many hundreds of packages delivered to our school, I guess most students have now decided differently.

It was only a few years ago when we ourselves had our eyes opened to the broad shopping horizon known as Taobao. Taobao is like a Chinese Amazon marketplace (there is also Chinese Amazon, but their things tend to be more expensive). You can find pretty much anything on Taobao. Clothes, toys, furniture, produce, live hedgehogs. The selection is wider and the prices often much lower than in stores. And you can avoid actually having to go shopping, which I think is a big plus. I buy most of the girls clothes on Taobao, some harder to find or bulk grocery items, and a lot of odds and ends I don't want to have to search for in real life.

The only tricky part can be figuring out the names of things in Chinese. “Girls winter boots” is pretty simple, but sometimes I have to do a lot of guessing and baidu translating to get what I'm actually looking for. A lot of import items are also available, but they are usually still expensive.

November 11^th is “Singles Day” in China (双11 or “double 11”). Thanks to the owners of Taobao, in recent years this holiday has been turned into a Chinese Black Friday. It is now the biggest shopping day in the world (because you know, China has an awful lot of people). We waited until the holiday to buy things for ourselves and our teammates, and the past week we have been getting multiple packages a day.

If you live in a regular neighborhood, delivery companies will deliver packages to your house. Since we live on the university campus, they deliver to several designated areas and we have to go pick them up. There are close to a dozen different small delivery companies with different locations near different school gates. The delivery company sends a text message letting you know you have a package to pick up, generally around lunchtime but recently as late as 8 or 9pm.

This past week the companies were seriously overloaded with Singles Day packages. Hundreds of packages delivered through each company, multiple shipments a day. When we went to pick up packages, there were often 30-40 people waiting in line at each location. Fortunately the delivery companies have improved their organization. Instead of searching through an incomprehensible organization of 100 packages, they now text you a package number.

Students lined up at another delivery location.

As I went to pick up several packages the other day, waiting in one of four lines while harried delivery workers called out, “What number? Next! What number??” I realized that I still have trouble with Chinese numbers. The numbers themselves are pretty elemental and one of the first things I learned in China. But I still find it hard to read off a series of numbers in Chinese, like a phone number or a 5 digit package number. “That's kind of ridiculous,” I thought.

But then I realized, I also have trouble reading numbers aloud in English. They make sense when I see them, but to say them out-loud I feel like I have to translate the numerals into words and my brain or my mouth gets easily confused. So naturally it is hard to read numbers in Chinese, when my brain has to first figure out what the numerals mean and then into Chinese words.

I also have a terrible time remembering numbers. I still don't have my phone number memorized, and I have had the same number for 5 years! I have tried memorizing it several times and it just hasn't stuck.

Well, I always knew my brain had a tenuous relationship with numbers, despite their color connections.  Isn't it reassuring that I am the one teaching Juliana math?

The Challenges of Raising Kids in China

A week ago I wrote about the benefits of parenting in China. I'll be honest – this list was easier to think of. I suppose that's the nature of things; somehow it is always easier to see the negatives. Or maybe that is just my pessimism coming through. There are great things about raising children in China. I've never really done it anywhere else. But it certainly does have its challenges as well.

Inconvenience factor: I already wrote about this, but let me just say again. I would love a dishwasher. I know it's better to make everything from scratch, but some days I'd really like the option of just opening a can. I don't actually want a car in China, though it would make some things easier. And taking the kids to school with a 10*F wind blowing in your face isn't our favorite. But we'd still have to cart everything up to the 5^th floor anyway.

Differences from my childhood: There are a lot of things I wouldn't miss at all if I grew up in China, but when I think about my childhood I wish my kids had some of the same opportunities. We went to the library every week. My mom sent us outside to play in the backyard everyday while she fixed dinner. I appreciate the great green spaces on our campus and other kids around to play with, but sometimes I would love a private area where the kids could run wild.

Cultural Differences: On the other side of this is the reality that people just do things differently and we are weird. We start getting the “why is your child still in diapers?” question before they turn one. A common way of showing concern is giving criticism. Thus the five hundred “Your child isn't wearing enough layers” comments. If your baby is sick, it is obviously because of something you did (give them cool water). A lot of things we do with our kids just seems plain wrong.

Attention: We get a lot of attention. People watch us absolutely everywhere we go, any time we step outside our door. We are used to it, but it's still draining sometimes. Some days the kids don't mind the stares and pictures and “come shake the foreign kid's hand,” but understandably some days they just want to be left alone. No matter how long we live here, we will never fit in. They will always be the weird foreigner.

Confusion: Figuring out how everything works can still be hard. We've figured out a lot in our 10 years, but we are still figuring out the realm of school. We have to learn how the school system works and struggle with understanding teachers and decoding numerous internet messages that may or may not be important.

Language: I know you've always heard that kids pick up languages so quickly. And that's true, sort of. But that doesn't mean it's easy, especially in a really difficult language like Chinese. Juliana has learned a lot of Chinese in the past couple of years, but it has meant sitting through a lot of lessons she doesn't understand and trying to play with friends she can't talk to. And she still struggles. If you think it's hard to send your child off to preschool or kindergarten for the first time, imagine if they couldn't communicate with their teachers or classmates AND were the one weird kid that is different from everyone else.

Travel: We get to go to really awesome places like Thailand, which makes up for a lot of other things we put up with in life. A lot. But people who travel around the world with their kids for fun are CRAZY. If you have never taken a 30+hr trip while 8 months pregnant or with a newborn and toddler and kindergartener – DON'T DO IT. Nobody does that for fun. Much as we love seeing our family and eating In N' Out, every time we go through jetlag I swear we will never travel again. You finally survived the loooong trip and now you get to say up with super hyper kids from 1-4am every night for a week. If you have ever complained about daylight savings time, trust me – this is a thousand times worse.

Medical care: Everyone feels worried when their child gets sick, especially when they are only a few months old. I am grateful that we have decent medical care here and lots of medicine available, but I having to take my kids to the doctor fills me with great anxiety. I never really trust what the doctor says, perhaps because I only payed 30 cents, or because the checkup was less than 30 seconds, or because sometimes the doctor looks 12, or because I know they will prescribe antibiotics whether it is necessary or not. Oh, and we have often gotten a wrong diagnosis or potentially harmful medicine, so there's that. I super miss our pediatrician. And of course there is the whole flying across the country to get necessary immunizations. Or traveling to another city or country for a few months to give birth.  That's kind of a pain.

Family: But one of the biggest things is, we really miss our families. I want my kids to make cookies with their grandmothers and build towers with their grandfathers. I want them to read stories with their aunts and play with their cousins. Instead we settle for a mostly-Skype relationship. We have the only grandkids and nieces on both sides of the family, so our families miss them extra much. The newborn they saw last time is now walking and talking; the toddler is now starting school. We miss them, and they miss us.

There are a lot of great things about raising kids in China. I've thought of even more since my last post. But to be honest, it's really hard as well. We are fortunate that our kids are doing well. This life is all they have known. But one day they will realize how different their life is from their friends and how much they have had to put up with.  We feel that this is where we are supposed to be and the challenges are worth it.  I hope when they grow up, they will be able to feel the same way.

That one time when nobody came

I don't usually plan large events, but recently, on an ambitious day, I decided: Hey, let's have a big party for all the Sophomore students!  This Saturday the Sophomore English majors all took a big, important standardized test, the TEM-4. They spent a lot of time studying and preparing, and most of them were pretty nervous about it.  So I thought, we could have a big party for them after the test is over!  A chance for them to have fun and let go of the weeks of cumulative stress.
Our teammate currently teaches all the Sophomores, and Kevin has taught them all in the past, so we invited all 5 classes, about 130 students total.  When our teammates invited the students in class, they all seemed very excited.  "I think we should expect a big turnout," he said.  "I'd think around 100."  That's what I was thinking too, as I planned games and activities.  I tried to come up with things that would work well for a really large group of students.

I planned relay games and gathered necessary items.  I put together a photo scavenger hunt to do on campus.  I bought candy prizes.  I baked at least 120 oatmeal cookies and around 100 cookie bars. Our teammate baked some brownies and bought a few snacks as well.

Today the weather was warm and sunny, perfect for an outdoor party.  We headed outside at 2:30pm to set up.  We were ready.  Juliana was excited.  3pm rolled around, and nobody was there.

It started to rain.  And by rain, I mean it was partly cloudy with a few sprinkles here and there, not worth an umbrella.  The air turned colder.  And by colder, I mean 65*F.  Surely this wouldn't keep the students from coming?

By 3:15pm, two students had shown up. Two. There was no way we could do our party with two students! We waited a few more minutes, just in case, but it was pretty clear no one was coming. I packed up all the supplies while Juliana cried, "Why can't we have the party? Why did nobody come? I wanted to have a party!"  Adalyn was crying after being dragged all over for nothing.  I was feeling frustrated, disappointed, and just ticked off.

We invited the two students to our house, and they invited two others as well. If these were the only students who bothered to show up, we could at least make it worth their while.  I put aside my frustration and focused on rewarding these few thoughtful students.  Juliana cheered up a little bit; she loves playing with students.

We brought out the cookies and encouraged them to eat to their hearts' content.  We played Uno and Dr. Seuss Memory.  I made up a quick game of "hide the candy," which they really got into.  They were interested in the games and happy to be around the kids.  At dinnertime we all went to the cafeteria together.  The students thanked us for having them over and assured us they really enjoyed it.

So the afternoon was not a total waste, but I won't pretend that it wasn't disappointing.  I still feel pretty ticked off.  How do 100 people just not show up?  And no, they didn't have a conflict, the other students said, "I think they are just busy...it is a little cold out..."

What about the people we know and communicate with regularly? The ones who indicated they would come?  Could they really not have told us, "Actually we're not going to come and neither is anyone else from our class."

No, they couldn't tell us that, because we would lose face, and then they would lose face, and then the world would end.  It's better to just not show up and pretend like it never happened. It's not the first time this has happened, but never on quite such a large scale.

Maybe we will reschedule the party. I do have 200+ snacks filling up my freezer space, plus the games I went to the trouble of planning.  And I did want to do something nice for the Sophomores, although not quite so much just right now.  Our teammate will probably mention that nobody came to the party, and they will all feel ashamed, and then everyone will come the next time.  Nothing like a guilt-induced party, right?

The best laid plans and all (America).  Plans cannot keep up with change (China).  Apparently it's a universal principle.  There are some lessons you never stop learning.  Oatmeal cookie, anyone?

Morning Commute

The 8 o'clock "go to school" bell is ringing as I snap on Juliana's helmet.  Coat, gloves, towel to cover the legs, princess backpack - check.  We wave goodbye to Daddy and Adalyn and head down the stairs. Here on the edge of the desert, the temperature drops every night.  Right now it is 28 degrees, but long about January our early morning bike rides are going to get awfully chilly.  I heave Juliana up onto the bike seat, and we are off to Kindergarten.

Selling fried egg bread outside the school gate

The guard waves cheerfully as we pass through the school gate.  Just outside the gate, several carts sell morning snacks to the students passing by.  Flat egg bread sizzles as it fries.  Vendors pass out cups of hot soy milk.  The fruit seller begins to arrange her wares.  The bike repair man is already fixing a flat tire.  Many of the shops and restaurants are still closed.  Since China is all on one time zone, here in the "west" morning begins a little later, and shops cater to students' later hours.

On the small street across from the campus gate, the morning market is in full swing.  Local farmers line the street with trucks, carts, and sheets full of apples, cabbages, and all manner of produce.  Grannies and housewives are already making their way back home with their morning purchases.

A fruit seller is ready for the morning

The roads are seldom crowded out on the edge of town, but other parents drive small, backpack-ladden children to kindergarten.  Middle school students, garbed in their schools' track suit uniforms, bike to school with friends.  A car pulls up next to a food cart along side the road for some "drive-thru" breakfast.  I enjoy biking, though I'm not looking forward to the cold winter months, but one primary disadvantage is the inability to drink coffee during the commute. 

So this is actually a new building, but you get the idea...

The sun is still low but reflects brightly, turning old, rust-rimmed windows to brilliant orange.  The snow-topped mountains are starting to show through the morning haze.

Music is blaring from the local park, and through the gate we catch a glimpse of 30-40 middle aged women dancing together.  They wave fans and march along to the music.  The weather is chilly, but they are warmed by their dancing - not to mention their multiple layers of long underwear.

Dancers in the park

As we get closer to the kindergarten, we see more parents and backpack totting children biking and walking toward the school.  The tiny road in front of the school is a mess of cars, motorbikes, and bicycles trying to get around each other during the morning drop off.  Lively children's music is playing through the speakers and the guard gives each child a friendly good morning as we join the line for the morning health check.

After dropping of Juliana at her classroom, I join the other parents hurrying off to work and home.  The street is less crowded now.  Several tractors lumber down the road with huge loads of hay.  I pass a local mosque, it's green roofs peering out from behind a large gas station.  I hear the tell-tale sound of "It's A Small World" as the water truck drives through spraying off the road.  The street cleaners work their way down the sidewalks with large, straw brooms.

A local mosque

A car drives down the wrong side of the street and swerves onto a side road, narrowly avoiding my bicycle.  This happens so often it's not worth worrying about.  You know what they say: "6 inches is as good as a mile."  Instead I feel a little nostalgic for the old days of chaotic traffic, when part of the bus route went down the wrong side of the street.  As more and more cars take over the roads, traffic is tamer, especially on Yinchuan's wide roads.  

At the park, some women are still dancing, but others are returning home.  One woman pulls a large red drum on wheels.  The sun is higher and the windows no longer shine.  Campus is quiet; most students are in class now.  The grannies have not yet brought their babies and toddlers out to play.  I open the door to the warmth of home: to a baby toddling toward me, to laundry and dishes and to-do lists, and to half a cup of coffee waiting to be reheated.

Kindergarten

I wound my bike between the dozens of other bicycles, motorbikes, and cars pulled up in front of the kindergarten.  All around parents led their 3-5 year old children through the gate, past the alluring playground equipment, and toward the castle-looking school building.  The children all carried backpacks - covered in princesses, cartoon characters, and superheroes - half as big as themselves and mostly empty.

I helped Juliana down from the bike seat, her own Minnie Mouse backpack bouncing on her back.  "Look!  It's my school!!"  Juliana cried excitedly.  She had been talking about starting school for the past year, and the day finally arrived.  I could tell she was feeling pretty important, albiet a little confused, because for a long time we have been telling her she would start school when she was four.  Technically, she will be in school for three weeks before she turns four.  Almost-four-year-olds don't deal in technicalities.

We stopped first at a nurses station just inside the door where a nurse checked each child's hands and throat.  She handed Juliana a red plastic chip to show she was healthy.

As we climbed the stairs to the second floor, where the 4 year old classes are held, Juliana held the child handrail and carefully placed her feet on the painted footprints leading upstairs.   Her teacher greeted her kindly as we entered her classroom, and Juliana remembered her "laoshi hao."  I put Juliana's backpack and jacket in the cupboard while she happily placed her red health chip in its slot.

Twenty-some children already sat at tables, quietly playing.  Juliana spotted her Norwegian friend across the room and hurried to join her.  The two blond-haired, blue-eyed children certainly do stand out!  Juliana's friend has already been in this class for a year, but the other children watched Juliana curiously.  I said goodbye to Juliana, but she was already involved in play.

When I returned at noon, Juliana ran happily to me.  The teacher told me Juliana cried a little bit before I came, but she ate well (she eats breakfast and lunch at school).  Juliana cheerfully waved to all her classmates.  The other children were finishing their lunch and climbing into beds pulled out for naptime.  They stay at school until 6pm.

On the ride home, I asked Juliana what was her favorite part of the day.  "Dancing!"  No surprise there.  Every day the whole kindergarten gathers outside on in the play yard to dance or exercise together.  Dancing has been her favorite part of every day, along with time on the playground "running and screaming."

 Finding out what else happens at school is a little trickier.  "What else did you do today?"  "Oh, I played.  A little boy hit me."  Every day, there is some variation of a little boy hitting her.  It's hard to tell if that actually happens every day or if it happened one day and just makes the account every day.  Either one seems like a decent possiblity.

We have a lot of exchanges like this:
"What did you eat for breakfast today, Juliana?"
"Hot milk. I like hot milk."
"What about for lunch?"
"Hot milk.  Just hot milk."
"Wait a minute, you were still eating lunch when I came, and I saw you had some soup."
"Oh yes.  We had soup.  We had some orange bubbly drink.  It tasted strange."
"Hmm, I don't know what it was.  Maybe something with vitamins?"
"They were yucky vitamins."

Halfway through the week Juliana's enthusiasm was momentarily dampened.  She got up saying, "I'm a little bit sick today.  I don't think I should go to school.  I'm grunting a lot."  But by the time she was heading out for school, she was excited again.  On Saturday morning when I told her there wasn't any school, she said, "But whyyyyyy??"  She quickly recovered when I told her she could stay in her pajamas.  She would be happy to stay in her pajamas all day, except that I don't let her wear them out of the house.

Kindergarten is off to a good start.  I am really grateful for my super-social, crazy-energetic little girl to have somewhere to go every day to enjoy being around kids (even if she can't communicate well yet).  And I'll be honest, I have been enjoying my calmer mornings hanging out with Adalyn.  I can even get some things done since Adalyn doesn't usually demand constant attention.

Every day I also ask Juliana, "What was your least favorite part of school?"  And most days she says, "Nothing!  There is nothing I don't like!"

Moving Day

Moving day finally arrived. There were several times in these weeks leading up to it when I thought I might die, if it's possible to keel over dead from exhaustion. I finally got over my super long cold but am entering the third trimester with plenty of exhaustion and back pain, even without dealing with the move. Lately I am far too tired and uncomfortable to sleep. Apparently my body is gearing up for jet-lag because I've been waking up at 3:30 or 4am unable to sleep for hours.

A few weeks ago Kevin hurt his hand, which has been a bit of a problem in the packing and moving process. It is still sore but now he can at least pick up things again. Juliana is very familiar with packing suitcases for a trip but is completely thrown off by packing up everything we own. She has been pretty stressed and confused lately. Even though we've tried to explain what is going on, she doesn't quite understand that she will in fact see her toys again (like “8 months later” really means much to a preschooler), we're not just taking them all way. She also has been a little freaked out to leave our sight; I think she's afraid we will leave her behind.

Despite the challenges (Did I mention the heat? And the A/C unit in our bedroom just stopped working...), all of our belongings are packed and no one died in the process. Even if we wanted to move all our things down from the 6^th floor, down the road, and back up to the 3^rd floor on our own (which we didn't), I can't carry anything heavy and Kevin can't carry much with his hurt hand. So we hired a moving company for about $70. Originally we scheduled the moving guys to arrive at 9am this morning, but they called the night before to say it would be noon instead. Shortly before noon, they called back to say 2-3pm, and they finally arrived just after 4pm. I guess we should have expected it.

Three normal-sized Chinese guys pulled up downstairs in a large truck. We were their third move of the day, and they were happy that almost all the furniture belonged to the landlord. Still, we had 40 boxes and a dozen trashbags, plus two cabinets and a crib. I'm pretty sure we moved here with about 30 boxes total (larger ones, granted), so the accumulation mystery continues. Where did all this stuff come from?? It's not like our apartment is that big.

The three men sized up the load and then started hauling. They looked like average sized guys, no bulging muscles or anything, but looks can be deceiving. I watched the first guy tie together half a dozen boxes, strap it to his back, and head off down the stairs with a load twice as big as himself. One man was obviously the main mover. Even though he had already moved two households today, he was still smiling, joking with the other guys, and chatting with me as he energetically gathered boxes. He rather seemed to relish his job.

He strapped eight boxes together and hoisted them onto his companion's back. When the other guy wavered and decided it was too much, the main mover said something to the effect of, “Really? You can't handle these eight boxes? Come on!” Then he strapped them to his own back and headed downstairs with no problem. A couple of trips later, he hoisted our large 3-door wardrobe onto his back. It was too big to fit down the stairs frontwards, so he backed his way down 5 flights of stairs - with the giant wardrobe on his back. It was all highly impressive and a little nerve-wracking. I was a little concerned for our belongings and a bit more concerned that this would be the part where someone keeled over dead. If this were the States, they could probably put on a show and charge admission.

Kevin stayed downstairs to watch the belongings being loaded into the truck, and I stayed upstairs telling the movers which items to take. I would have felt a little bad about sitting and watching them work so hard if not for my big pregnant belly. At one point I moved a very light box out of the way and they said, “Oh no, don't pick that up. We'll move it.”

Halfway through, the men paused downstairs for a smoke-break and when they came back up they had stripped their shirts off. It was mid-90's after all. One guy paused appreciatively in front of our fan but the other guy explained that he was avoiding the fan because after sweating so much he was afraid of getting too cool. Uh huh. Two of the guys were starting to look winded, but the main mover was still energetic.  He showed his moving buddy how to balance a chair on his back and still have his hands free for a couple more items.  Finally he strapped four large boxes of books on his back and trotted off downstairs.

In just under 1.5 hours, everything was moved downstairs. Now all that was left was carrying it up 3 flights of stairs to our new apartment. Piece of cake. They were finished by 7pm.

I'd say those movers were definitely worth it.

Chinese Wedding Weekend

With the wedding couple

Several weeks ago when we bought tickets for our trip to my friend's wedding, Kevin made the mistake of telling Juliana, "We are going on an airplane!"  Juliana immediately went to the door to put on her shoes and started crying when she learned we weren't actually going at that moment.  So when the time for our actual trip came, she was pretty excited.  Fortunately the previous --- flights haven't yet dimmed her enthusiasm, and this trip we managed to include planes, trains, buses, subways, vans, and taxis (plus our friends' car which she called a taxi too, because she doesn't realize some cars aren't taxis.  30 hours of total transit.

On Thursday we got up at 5am to leave for the airport.  We spent a 5-hour layover in Xian mostly hanging out in the comfortable chairs in Dunkin Donuts.  We even formed a little bed for Juliana where she rested for approximately 3 minutes.

Juliana "resting" in the airport

When we finally arrived in Nanjing that evening, we went to eat at a Mexican restaurant (because you know, there is one) then headed to our $18 hotel where we spent a rather restless night.  The next morning we caught an early train to Taizhou, fortunately just 2.5 hours away.  Our train went through Yangzhou, my first city in China.  I marveled at the way trees and grass sprung up from the ground as easily as dirt does in Ningxia.  I've gotten used to living on the edge of the desert, and it really was surprising to see lakes and rivers around every turn.

My friend's fiance met us in Taizhou, his hometown where the wedding would take place.  He took us in his month-old personal car to meet up with the rest of the family.  Unfortunately the car's brand-new GPS was missing several of the new roads so it took quite a while to find the way.  Juliana was almost falling asleep when we arrived at the restaurant where my friend Candace, her family, and her fiance's family were waiting.

Candace and her family

Every area in China has some different dishes and variations of flavors, and I was looking forward to some Jiangsu province style food again.  We did have good food; unfortunately most of the ordinary foods we liked to eat weren't on the fancy menus.  First we had the meal with the families where the table was filled with so many dishes they had to be double stacked.  Then was the pre-wedding banquet - not a formal affair but still feeding close to a hundred people.  And of course the fancy wedding banquet.  One night Wu Wei's mother did cook us food at their home (6-7 dishes plus bowls of noodles and zongzi) and that we especially enjoyed.

Eating dinner at Candace's new apartment

Except Juliana, who didn't want to eat much of anything.  I figured she was probably tired from travel and not used to the food, but the next day she threw up most of the morning.  The night before we had been out in a moderate breeze so of course everyone said, "Oh no, she got too cold last night!"  As we all know, cold (in this case about 70*F) is the source of all disease as well as most other misfortunes.  Fortunately the wedding wasn't until the evening and by then she had recovered to her full level of normal excitement.   Which was good, because she was the flower girl!

Juliana at the pre-wedding banquet, still not feeling so great.  But she was still ready to get out of the hotel!

When Candace asked if Juliana would be the flower girl I wasn't really sure what that would entail.  A traditional Chinese wedding celebration revolves around the large banquet with some ceremony and performances included, but more and more western traditions have been picked up.

The wedding car

Some of the traditions had been fulfilled earlier in the day, when the families lit off lots of firecrackers (probably the ones we heard starting at 6am).  Before the pre-wedding banquet Candace's fiance had gone to pick her up in the wedding car.  He then carried her up to their third floor apartment.  I told him to be glad he didn't live on the sixth floor like us!

The banquet hall

The wedding was a dinner banquet.  For the first part of the ceremony, Candace dressed in a western style white wedding dress.  Her father walked her partway up a raised glass aisle, situated in the middle of the banquet tables, where she was met by her fiance.  Juliana and a 4 year old flower boy processed in front of them tossing flowers from their baskets.  The lights were darkened, spotlights flashed around, and multicolored bulbs lit up under the aisle - a bit of China flair added to the western tradition.  I wasn't sure how Juliana would do throwing flowers since she wouldn't practice walking down the aisle without holding my hand, but I guess walking together with the little boy gave her confidence.  She did great and tossed her flowers with utmost diligience.

Juliana and the flower boy lead the way down the aisle

The couple exchanges vows

After walking up the aisle, the couple exchanged vows and wedding rings.  Together they lit some type of firecracker/candle and prayed for good fortune, then filled a tower of glasses with champagne.  Candace went to change into a traditional red qipao and meanwhile the lights came back on and the banqueting started.  When she returned, the second part of the ceremony involved calling the new in-laws "father" and "mother" and receiving lucky money from them.

Praying for fortune

Calling the in-laws "mother" and "father", receiving an embrace and lucky money

Each table was first filled with cold dishes - cold meats, cucumbers in garlic, hawthorn jellies, "thousand year eggs"... after a few minutes the servers started bringing in the hot dishes - all kinds of meats, several fish, shrimp, soups, and a few "fancified" vegetables.  Dozens of dishes later, the large baozi (steamed buns stuffed with meat or vegetables) signaled the last of the dishes.  Just like at any banquet, one of the most important parts is toasting all the appropriate people.  Approximately every two minutes someone would stand and toast someone else at the table.  Of course no celebration is complete without lots of alcohol and smoking.  I was grateful for the banquet room's high ceilings which kept the smoke from getting too thick around us.

The banquet table...before the dishes really piled up

While everyone was banqueting, the couple and the husband's parents moved around to toast every table and the performances started.  An opera singer dressed in a fancy traditional dress sang and danced...which was a little strange because it was actually a guy (in the past all opera performers were men).  Several other singers sang and strutted to very loud music.

The opera singer

Then suddenly, the banquet was over.  Everyone started leaving their tables and three minutes later the room was practically empty.  It's truly phenominal how fast a room can clear in China.   I've never seen anything quite like it in America.

The decorated bridal chamber

The couple would spend their wedding night in their new home, their bedroom beautifully decorated with a red bed-covering and red 喜喜 "double happiness" decorations, but there was no honeymoon for them.  The next morning they saw us and Candace's family off, then Candace had to return to Changzhou, 2 hours away, where she still lives and works as a teacher.  She hasn't been able to find a decent job in Taizhou, so she and her husband will live apart for the forseeable future.  Candace is a high school teacher, so she is incredibly busy getting her students ready for the all important college entrance exam.  She often works from 7am-10pm teaching and supervising students and only has a day off when the students are allowed to return home a couple of times a month.  It seems like a difficult way to start a marriage, but in China it's not a terribly uncommon situation.

Juliana having fun with a new friend while we wait for our delayed flight

It was a tiring weekend.  The next day we took a bus to another city and then caught a bus to the airport. Our flight back delayed 1.5 hours so we didn't get back until 10pm Sunday night.  But I'm really glad I got to see Candace again, meet her family, and attend her wedding.  I also got to see two other former students, Candace's classmates.  They had certainly grown up a lot since I met them as little freshmen almost 8 years ago.

With two other former Yangzhou students and their husbands

Getting a little tired of all the pictures

Juliana was quite a hit.  She was getting pretty tired of all the strangers getting in her face, touching her, and trying to pick her up but we tried to shield her from some of the more aggressive attention (why does sneaking up and trying to swoop up a kid from behind seem like such a good idea to everyone?)  Our friend was concerned about all the attention, but we assured her Juliana is pretty used to it by now.  Overall she handled it well, and she came off with a lot of loot, including but not limited to:
-One poofy flowergirl dress complete with hairband and pink elbow-length gloves.
-One moderate sized Snoopy stuffed animal.
-Three small stuffed teddy charms.
-Candy, crackers, nuts, chocolate, and various other snacks.
-A bouncy ball that flashes bright lights
-A plastic fan
-And to top it off, one GIANT stuffed bear which our friends presented to her as they saw us off to the bus station.  It's as tall as Juliana and twice as wide.  Kevin had go out and hunt down a rice bag to pack it in so we could check it on the way back.

Juliana's new giant bear

All in all, it was a good trip and we got to experience a much more traditional Chinese wedding than the last one.  My friend was endlessly grateful that we came, and 387 other people are endlessly grateful for the cute pictures of the 洋娃娃 "foreign doll" they will now post online.