My First Trip To China

Summer 2000

During my first fifteen hour nonstop flight from San Francisco to Hong Kong I felt as though I was a child again. A child that has been cooped up in a confined space for too long. Had I been able to converse with the pilot, he would have found some place to stopover. I am certain he would have found a place to drop me off. "Are we there yet?" was the line that continuously rang in my head after the first nine hours. Finally, after two or three airline meals, two or three snacks, some restless naps, drinking about a half gallon of water, visiting all the various bathrooms for a change in scenery and additional exercise, thinking through the redesigning of those bathrooms, redesigning the seat I was sitting in, reading the magazines I brought for myself, reading the magazines I brought with me for Tim, and watching bits and pieces of four movies, I caught my first breathtaking glimpse of Hong Kong through the fog and mist. It was about six in the evening and early evening light gave it the perfect ‘first time to the orient’, mysterious, exotic feel. The landscape felt very large and peaceful, although now in retrospect this may have just been in contrast to my state of mind and body.

The mountains around Hong Kong are lush and dense with tropical trees and plants, and free of buildings. The city is nestled at the base of these beautiful lush green steep slopes on the South China Sea. The city is dense with buildings, but you can also see a lot of green throughout the city. From the air it doesn't have the look of the large city that it is with all this green and also Hong Kong is not as highly illuminated as most big US cities. This gives it a very fairy-like feeling. The airport is vast with some of the largest indoor spaces I have ever seen. I was in awe as I contemplated the large groups of people that move through this space.

Bleary eyed and wobbly legged, I reconnected with my body during a good ten minute walk. I ended up in a large basement area where guards directed me onto a subway car that, in my opinion, looked packed. I hesitated, but as people saw me everyone shifted this way and that, and within a couple seconds there was just enough room for my suitcase and me. The doors closed behind me brushing the seat of my pants and this was my gentle initiation into travel in Hong Kong.

The many narrow streets and sidewalks give Hong Kong a small town and more intimate feel. Parts of it are similar to Chinatown in San Francisco. A lot of the shops are small and crowded right up next to the walkway. Sometimes pedestrians have to step around their wares that spill out onto the sidewalk area. Some shops are just little cubbies that are only eight or twelve feet wide and the variety of shops is mind boggling. That first night I felt like I was a visual sponge. I instantly went into a pleasant sensory overload while Tim held my hand and navigated through the crowds. A shop of teas in beautiful rows of jars all labeled in Chinese characters was next to the 7-11 Convenient store, which was next to a shoe store, which had GREAT shoes but the salespeople just looked at my size ten feet and could only say "whaahh" under their breath. Next to that was a restaurant with its roasted meats of the day hanging in the windows, which was next to a beautiful produce stand. It went on and on and on. People seemed to mill about not in any real organized fashion, so we just walked along where we could -- sometimes on the left side, sometimes on the right side, and sometimes down the middle.

Their sense of space is very different from ours and to brush against others is no big deal. I enjoyed watching these friendly people walking along holding hands or with arms around each other’s shoulders. The clothing for the most part is quite chic and 90% of the woman wear platform shoes that elevate them at least 4". Even with these shoes, most of the women didn't reach my shoulder. Tim and I look like giants among the crowd and when we got separated it was easy to locate each other as we towered above the rest of the crowd. Inside our hotel the feeling was more intimate than in most US hotels. Ti pointed out that the scale was just a bit smaller than American standards. The ceilings were 8-10" lower and the rooms were smaller. There is a nice amount of attention given to details though and we both appreciated the overall result. Wood was used for trim but ceramic tile and granite was used for much of the wall and floor area which is a good choice in a moist tropical area. I was thrilled to be in a large city with mountains and the sea.

The next morning we saw a bit more of this beautiful city and then boarded a ferry to go to the mainland. The boat took us by many interesting looking islands with traditional and contemporary structures on them and finally under an enormous suspension bridge that connects parts of the mainland with each other across the Pearl River estuary. After a fifteen minute taxi ride, we arrived in Dong Chong Village and I found myself speechless. Mainland China was completely different from Hong Kong.

Dong Chong Village is on a delta that is for the most part, as flat as a board. There are many canals that connect to the sea and provide water for irrigation and travel for the many local fishing boats. There are many little restaurants, open air markets, and thousands of people on bicycles. There is a wealth of agricultural activity here. Being in the tropics they have three crops of rice a year and every vegetable and fruit you can imagine is grown here. The small gardens are beautifully laid out. Many interesting lattice patterns are used to train vine crops up off the ground. My sense is that the land is still being worked in much the same way it has been for many years. There is also a growing wealth of manufacturing in the area and people from all over China come here to work. Most live in large dormitory type buildings to save money that they send home to family. It is a developing country in a true sense of the word. It has an active, hopeful feeling that is inspiring. As we dropped off our bags at home, I met two Chinese women that help out with cooking and laundry. Their bright faces, laughter and bits of English were a warm welcome. Then Tim and I went to the factory and person after person greeted me as if I was a good friend and I began to feel more and more at home. I began to see the real wealth of China -- the Chinese people.

Our Chinese Home

Summer 2000

Tim did a great job picking out our apartment in China. It is too small by most Chinese standards it seems, but as we don't have much here, it is fine and an easy space to clean. I like the parquet and granite floors, the windows are large and off the living room we have sliding glass doors that lead out to a little balcony. The view from the balcony always makes me smile. There is quite a large courtyard and down at our end is a large formal pool that has a two tiered fountain in the center. The two tiers are being gracefully held up by a group of full figured, mostly naked, classic Greek-ish, female statues. All the gardens are very formal around in this courtyard, but there are so many styles it can make you dizzy. Throughout the development there must be at least a dozen different themes, from our fountain to some graceful classical Chinese goddess sort of figures, to a western looking man in military gear on a rearing horse, to several large fish that spurt water in a fountain. One of the things I really like about the Chinese and their style is their exuberance! It is a totally charming and entertaining combination of restraint and total free-for-all!

Back in the apartment, our kitchen itself is a bit like a closet at only 5' deep and 6' wide. What saves it is a large window. Out that window is a very different view. We look out onto a canal and can see the fishing boats float down, and there is a bridge for the four lane highway that goes over the canal. I keep the door to the kitchen closed most of the time as the noise level is high with the constant honking. About half way down the length of the gray granite counter, the level drops down to accommodate a propane cook top which is the way most people cook here. I have a two burner cooker that ends up being at the same level as the countertop which, by the way, is only 31" high. The US standard is 36" high. At first I felt a bit like I was in a child's play kitchen, but now I am quite used to it. The sink is a sort of 'token' sink like one you might find behind a bar and I can't even get our frying pan into it! A standard feature I see in kitchens here is one faucet and that one is cold water. I never thought of working in a kitchen without hot water. It is funny the things we assume we must have and then find we can almost forget about quite quickly. What seems to be the popular thing here is to wash the dishes in cold water and then put them in sterilizers. I have noticed that sometimes dishes are a bit greasy though. Sterile, greasy dishes I have not gotten use to. So, I got a plastic dish pan. I fill it with hot water from the bathtub, wash dishes with hot water and rinse with cold.

And then where does the rinse water go? Down the drain, which is another Chinese enigma. They are plumbed in a unique way. They actually look like afterthoughts to me. Basically they run a rubber hose from a sink to a rough cut hole in the floor. Sometimes the rubber tube comes out though and then the kitchen floor turns into a soupy mess. This was the state in which we found our kitchen. And talk about mildew. Here in the tropics, it is alive, well and calls out to you at any chance it gets. After Tim got some cement and sealed it off around the rubber hose it has been a lot less of a problem. We still do not open the lower cabinet doors unless we have the exhaust fan running though. The mildew monster lives there.

Almost all southern Chinese cuisine is done with a wok or clay pots that you can put over a flame. Anything we would bake they would steam. To find an oven was an interesting adventure. The only one we could find was about the size of two toaster ovens put together and covered with a liberal amount of southern Chinese dust. Several salespeople stood in a semi circle around the appliance and myself looking stunned. Anyone with half a brain could read their thoughts. I was thrilled and quite animated at finally finding an oven and then I saw the faces of these salespeople. What in the heck was I going to do with this stupid thing they wondered. They looked at the appliance and then looked at me. Who is this woman and how the heck I was going to make those doughy steamed dumplings or those soggy mooncakes that have an egg baked into the middle of them in this contraption. I started to explain to Cindy, our Chinese friend what I was going to make in the oven and she was not moved. Tim had been here longer than me and realized there was no sense in trying to explain what I was going to do with the oven. He was very gentle but firm in his suggestion that I just bake something in it for her. Cindy brightened at this suggestion and we moved on to the next phase - making the purchase. No one in the shop spoke English so she asked the price of this oven and told us it was $50. USD. I was thrilled and said fine, great price, let's get it and move on, but there is no such thing here in China. After much intense conversation she told us now it cost $25 USD. I guess she just couldn't resist the chance to try to talk the guy down. It is such a different style of functioning here in China. Their bargaining style, from my point of view, seems to include different ways of insulting the product they are trying to bargain for. They point at the thing they are bargaining for and make the most awful faces when talking about it, or find some little scratch to point out. Conversations seem to get quite intense. But then if someone cracks a joke in the middle of the process, everyone laughs easily as if they were old friends. But then they dive back into the discussion. By the end they were just fine but I was so tense and confused, I just stood there not knowing what to do. I finally remembered the word, or rather my version of the word for thank you, which inspired a few grins, and my friend grabbed my hand and dragged me out.

After a lot of hunting around I finally have a bare bones set of ingredients like basil, marjoram, cardamom, olive oil, baking powder, sea salt, butter, bleached white flour, English tea and herb teas. Finding these was hard work. I tried to find them on the mainland and maybe they are here somewhere, but my thought is that it would be easier and faster to learn all six Chinese dialects. When I talked to Tony, one of the translators about some of these ingredients, he told me flat out that they did not exist, case closed. He would not discuss it any further. It is not real convenient, but there are grocery stores in Hong Kong that carry some western foods. All these stores seem to be the Neiman Marcus and Bloomingdales of the grocery world. They are beautiful stores with attractive displays and they have good sound systems that play jazz and other cool music, but the prices are about twice what we would pay at home. When I first saw the prices I kept asking around for what would be the Econofoods of Hong Kong, but after not finding anything else, I have come to look forward to a new shopping experience. At home in the US, I could set Olympic records for my dashes through supermarkets, but in Hong Kong it is a different. I rarely buy packaged foods in the states but here I find myself wandering throughout the entire store checking out everything as if it was fine jewelry. I find a certain homey comfort in roaming the isles looking at the western labels I used to refuse to acknowledge at home. Pringles, Frosted Flakes, Prego spaghetti sauce, and even the jars of marmite look wholesome and appealing. They have milk, butter, cream, double cream and yogurt which are not easily found, if at all, on the mainland. Any jar not in Chinese characters, I read. Any language that uses the same alphabet as the English language seems familiar and of great interest after looking at Chinese characters. The cheese selection is vast and quite impressive, and Tim approves of their stock of chocolate. I did finally find two stores here on the mainland that carry several western items. These include powdered milk, butter, peanut butter, walnuts with no msg, canned pineapple, Kraft grated parmesan cheese in the familiar shiny green shaker, instant coffee, Campbell's soup, and Ovaltine. I wonder how they got this combination. My approach now is find and collect what I can and then make something out of that.

After I assembled my little oven and costly little jars I began experimenting. Apple pie, pizza, cinnamon rolls, biscuits, roasted vegetables, baked chicken, oven fries and eggplant parmesan have given my little oven a thorough workout. It has almost no insulation, so I turn it and the exhaust fan on, open the window and close the door. And then I enjoy the best part of all -- the smells. I have come to appreciate the value of familiar smells in a foreign place. The people are wonderful, the food, well, some of the food is great. But when it comes right down to it, I agree with Dorothy. "There is no place like home", and the smells of home. We are very lucky in that fresh produce is abundant and all freshly picked daily. In this area they grow bananas, sugar cane, every kind of greens you can imagine, tangerines, snap peas, snake beans, lima beans, eggplant, green peppers, tomatoes, potatoes, several fruits and vegetables that I can't identify and rice. There are three crops of rice a year in this climate. Food is very inexpensive. I got about three pounds of spinach and 4 beautiful tomatoes for about 50 cents (American). There are many little produce stands along the roads, but I like the large markets the best. I find the fruit and vegetable section very interesting and beautiful. There are also stands of brightly wrapped Chinese candies. The meat section I cannot walk through. I have adjusted to seeing many things, but this may be the last. I cook all of our meals. Often when Tim and I eat at the factory people will come over and peer with curiosity and caution into our lunches and ask what the strange smells are. I'm sure the apartment is full of these smells of olive oil, basil and everything else. After we move out I can just imagine the scenario. Some Chinese folks will move in and notice these strange smells and all these little adaptations and then hear that some big Americans used to live here. And they will all stand around and talk about those strange Americans and wonder what their homes are like!

My Chinese Christmas Present

December 2000

On Christmas eve day we went out to lunch with the financial advisor of the company. I had found Lucy a very interesting woman from the first time I saw her. She is light skinned and has a beautiful round Chinese face. I look at her and can easily imagine her in full traditional Chinese court costume. Tim and I hadn't had time to really talk to her before this time and thoroughly enjoyed hearing about her life and travels. Lucy is an interesting blend of sweetness, refinement, and intelligence. She told Tim and I about different areas in China and what the main attractions were. Quanzhou is a very beautiful town by the sea that has many beautiful historic buildings. And Hainan Island, which we have all heard about, is known as the Hawaii of China. We also invited the driver, Lee, whose English vocabulary rivals my Chinese vocabulary to join us. Unfortunately he was unable to participate in the conversation, but seemed happy to observe. All the drivers are very helpful people, but ever since I started trying out Mandarin, Lee in particular gets a kick out of my attempts. He is very encouraging, but as a native Cantonese speaker giving me corrections on my Mandarin, I can tell that I am quickly developing into a phonetic nightmare. Sometimes after my attempts, he will quietly repeat what I have said to himself with a grin on his face. I figure I am providing these men some unusual entertainment.

We had a pleasant meal and visit with Lucy after which we went to buy a bike which was to be my Christmas present. Lee took us to what he said was the best bike shop and we began the search for the biggest woman's bike we could find. I haven't had a bike for years and don't really enjoy riding a bike, but it is my safest option for a bit more freedom while I am here. The owners of the shop, a cute young couple along with Lee worked hard at finding the perfect model for me. Still, the three of them would pull out a bike to show me, hold it next to me, look from my head down to my feet in amazement and utter a soft 'whaaah' under their breath. They just couldn't believe I was so tall. They would talk and talk and then find another bike to have me stand next to. A couple times I bent my knees a bit so it was the right size and they would all laugh and return to their search. I am getting used to being different, still working on the amazing amount of time it takes to do anything here.

People here have commented in amazement at my height which is only a bit over 5' 7". I have tried to tell them that many American women are taller than me but I could tell they didn't believe me. So, I have accepted the title as the tallest woman in the western hemisphere. Seems almost all communication is challenged here. It is truly amazing. You can ask a translator to ask one simple question, or even convey one simple statement like "this is a photograph of the house Tim and I are building". What is so complicated about that, right? The person translating can easily take up to 2 minutes of nonstop chatter to convey this. Not only that, but then a conversation begins between the translator and the translatee, if there is such a person, and that can go on, my guess is, for an infinite amount of time. I have started stepping into the conversations midstream and asking what they are talking about. Often the topic has changed completely but they are happy to fill me in on the conversation. I have come to the conclusion that any meeting of two or more Chinese people is a chance for a party, or at least a good long chat. On the other hand, communication on the level of friendliness is effortless. A smile given is rewarded with some of the most beautiful poster-like smiles I have ever seen.

Finally they found the biggest bike in the shop - it was bright yellow and black. It was by far the most unattractive bike I had ever seen. Some Iowa Hawkeye fan might have been in total ecstasy, but not I. I kept looking around. But after a few more minutes Tim gave me this look, which I have come to realize means "Give it up Deb, it ain't gonna happen on this continent". After a few moments of inner struggle, I settled. I have done a lot of aesthetic 'settling' since I have been here. Whether I have gained greater flexibility or tolerance or just learned how to repress in this area I'm not sure. It is probably a good exercise whatever is going on, so I try not to analyze it too much.

As I resigned myself to being the owner of the bright yellow bike, I commented to Lucy how the bike looked like a big bumblebee. She asked me to repeat myself. I am used to this request, and depending on the degree of confusion I see in the person's eyes, I simplify my message accordingly. I saw zero comprehension in Lucy's sweet face so I said in a slow clear voice how the bike looked like a big bee because it was bright yellow and black. I left out the 'bumble' part thinking that was probably confusing her. She lit up and I thought I had hit a home run until she stepped over to the bike and pointed out with a big smile how I had a 'bee' on my new bike. She thought I meant 'bell'. The smart thing to do at this time would have been to smile, nod and let it go. But, I didn't. I knew I could communicate this idea if I had just one more go at it. So I explained how there is an insect that is colored like my bike and it flies from flower to flower and then it makes a sweet liquid that people like to eat. I had seen honey in all the stores so I knew she would understand. She paused, and I knew I had gone too far. Her circuits were overloaded. She paused and then asked if I would like her to ask the bike store owners if they had some of this sweet liquid. It was at that point that I finally decided to let it go - for Lucy and myself. I said no and thanked her for helping me find a bike that had a bell and we exchanged big smiles. Big smiles of relief. And the level of relief we both felt I am certain transcended all boundaries of language.

Don't Try This At Home

Summer 2001

There is a British TV program called Don't Try This At Home that Tim and I have watched several times. Wicked friends and edgy vindictive spouses write in assignments for their loved ones to confront something that they have some aversion to. Like worms, spiders, small spaces, or heights. Tim finds the program exhilarating, while I usually find dishes to wash or file my nails instead of watching these poor people quake in their boots. Recently some woman walked up the Brooklyn Bridge suspension cables and I might as well have been her from the state of my stomach. They often attach a TV camera to the helmet of the person so you can see their perspective. What have we come to when we consider this entertainment?

My adventure was nothing that would ever make this program, but for me, it was close enough. We have this balcony off our living room that has a fabulous view of the beautiful formal gardens in the courtyard. Part of our great view is due to the fact that we are on the sixth floor. Our washing machine is out on the balcony too - a common Chinese practice here. So, today I was doing laundry and a number of other things. Thought I would start a load and then hop in the shower. I kicked off my shorts and then thought, maybe I should keep them on to go out on the balcony. I stepped out in a thin t-shirt and running shorts, threw the sheets in the machine and turned around to come back in and...the door was closed. When I say closed, that means locked.. I jiggled it, tried to slide it, tried to force it, went to the bedroom window and it was tight too. It was 2:15 and the balcony is on the west side and it was sunny and about 95°F with 95% humidity and it was not a good scene.

I surveyed the entire courtyard and all the other balconies...not a soul in sight...as usual. As I scanned I tried to remember the word for help and any word that could communicate some semblance of my predicament- nothing surfaced, but there was not a soul in sight anyway. So there I stood, in the sun, with my t-shirt, old shorts and no bra, and the washing machine happily humming away washing our sheets. I looked over the edge of the balcony six stories down. Paul, who owns the balcony next to us had left the door to the hall open. If I could get over to his balcony I could at least get out into the hall and go find a phone and call Tim to get in the apartment. But to get to Paul's balcony I had to walk on this ledge holding onto a rusty fence, with just room for my toes and the balls of my feet.

I have always been a bit acrophobic. The thought of walking this ledge had my breath rate doing some new rhythm. I was petrified. I looked for any other way. Then I thought maybe I could break one of the windows beside the sliding glass doors. I found a metal pole and rammed it into the window and it just bounced off. I was amazed. I ripped out the little rubber strip around the window and tried again and again and then just gave up. It was walk the ledge or wait a few hours out there in the blazing tropical sun for Tim to come home. I took off my shoes and put them where I could reach them through the fence. Then I stepped up to the ledge and jiggled the fence. It was rusty and I wanted to make sure it wouldn't just give way under my weight. I shook it enough to make sure it would hold me, but not enough to shake it loose. I got out to the end and stepped around the edge - I was half way there.

There are those wonderful moments in life that we treasure that always seem to fly by. And then there are the less enticing ones that stretch time out forever. Well this one was a real time freezer. but at the same time there was some satisfaction in doing something I never would have otherwise. A sort of empowering thing. It was only four feet to the other balcony, but half way out I had to step around the end of the ledge to come back the other side. I was doing pretty well, had gotten around the ledge and then realized my t-shirt had snagged on a rusty spike. Help. I didn't want to have to walk through the development with a torn t-shirt, but I didn't want to fall into the ground floor neighbor's koi pond either. I think it was around that time the fountain in the courtyard got turned on and my eyes went out and I saw the courtyard from a new expanded perspective. I also realized that in order to continue I really needed to breathe. I think I had been holding my breath until that point. I finally got my t-shirt loose, then it grabbed in another place, got that loose, three more steps and I was there on Paul's balcony. The relief was unbelievable, what a rush. Is this why people do extreme sports? Like this is an extreme sport. I know this is light years from rock climbing without a lifeline but it is as close as I plan to get to the sport. But soon after the rush, I started to shake - partly due to being in the direct sun for a half hour and partly due to hanging off the sixth story with out the Don't Do This At Home safety harness.

I grabbed my shoes and set out for the condo where the cooks work. As I have said, I end up being fairly high profile here as I am about 10" taller than most people and of opposite coloring. Today add to that scantily dressed with rust smeared all over my body and I might as well have been from another planet. Fortunately I did not see anyone but the guards but when I got to the condo it was locked.

I had to find a phone. I went to a guard post. I couldn't remember “phone” in Chinese, so did some frantic pantomiming. Unfortunately I was also talking nonstop while I was pantomiming. I usually limit my speech with the guards to things they can understand. They are a really sweet bunch of guys that are always trying out their English on me and I try out my Chinese on them. This was the first real conversation, or at least one side of a conversation, I had had with one of them. I remember going on in quite an animated fashion about how I couldn't believe what had happened and how I could have fallen...He stared at me in amazement. I suddenly realized he was overwhelmed so said "It's OK, never mind" and walked off. There was a little motorcycle taxi across the street. I began to move in his direction. He had been watching my efforts at communication and did understand. He hurriedly pulled out his phone and thrust it at me.

I called Tim and asked him to send his keys so I could get back in the apartment. I thanked the driver and walked back home to find two cleaning women and three painters in the entrance working and chattering away. When they saw me it was dead silence. Usually I just speak what little I know of Chinese. At this point I only had some English words at my disposal. I saw their faces and all I could say was “I know, I know, I am a mess” and they responded by pointing out that I had rust stains smeared on my clothes and body. Somehow I found this hilarious and started laughing. They laughed with me. Or was it at me? Soon Afoo, my favorite driver drove up with Tim’s keys. I could see his wonderful big grin through the windshield. As he handed me Tim’s keys he gave me a big thumbs up and kept repeating “Jackie Chan! Jackie Chan!”

The American Steak House

Summer 2001

A Chinese friend recently took us to a restaurant called The American Steak House. We were the token Americans. It was an amazing and baffling marriage of images. On the entrance of the log cabin-ish looking building, was a illuminated sign which included a Fred Flintstone sort of character was kicking up his heels. Inside stone and log walls framed a large poster of an American steer with the different parts explained in Chinese, of course. Our host told us all the meat was shipped from the US. Then we crossed a little bridge over a stream that lead to a pond that had koi in it. The pond had a waterfall and around the edges of the room were the ever present restaurant fish tanks which I think were just ornamental, but it is hard to know for sure. Then between the tables meandered a gravel path. Go figure. We tried to get all the food to arrive at the same time, but old habits die hard. Our individual meals arrived one by one, with 15 minutes or so between, Chinese style. So, we shared our American meals Chinese style.

Conversations

Summer 2001

Evening seems to be a time I have the most interesting conversations with people in the office. Things are a bit more relaxed and people seem less shy to start up a conversation with me. One night Ben and Fred, my two favorite men here, and I started chatting about relationships. I soon noticed a bit of a black cloud seemed to descend over Fred. His girlfriend had come to town to see him was and he was wondering when he was going to be able to go and see her. I responded that he should go right away, to which he grinned but said he was suppose to get a project assignment from Tim. As often happens, Tim had had been called off to work out some emergency somewhere in the factory before he had gotten to talk to Fred.

Ben asked me how long Tim and I had been together. I told them around 13 years. They were impressed and Ben asked me to teach them something about relationships, like I am an expert...So in my effort to avoid the subject I told them I thought Tim could better give them a man's point of view. I said I could only tell them my point of view as an American woman, but that may be quite different than a Chinese woman's point of view and of no use to them. They were still eager, so, I with some hesitation I told them, in my opinion, when you make a date with a woman, you should never keep her waiting. To this statement they both gave a little nervous laugh and Ben followed up with, 'oh yes'. And I began to think maybe Chinese women were not so different than American women. But if you have to be late, I continued, at least call her and let her know what is going on and when she can expect to see you. Don't make the mistake that no news is better than bad news. More nervous little laughs... Fred especially looked worried and Ben said 'oh yes, that is a good idea', or something like that. At that point I told Fred I had an idea, to which he brightened up immediately. I suggested he call his girlfriend, tell her he was on his way, and was looking forward to seeing her, and then leave immediately before Tim got back. I told him I was sure Tim would agree that he should go immediately. I was actually not authorized to do this, but luckily, it worked out to be fine with Tim, the project, Fred, Fred's girlfriend, and me - we got home by 10:00pm for a change!

A Fine Translator

Summer 2000

Tim has a wonderful translator that he met at a job fair in Guangzhou. He is 30 years old and his English name is Ben. After going through many a translator that non-English speaking people in the Personnel department hired for him, Tim wisely went and hand picked his own. Ben recently told me how he happened to be at the job fair that day.

A good friend invited Ben to accompany him to this job fair so they could get a chance to visit a bit. Although Ben had a job he enjoyed and was not interested in changing, he went to be with his friend. When he got to the fair, he said he soon noticed Tim , who although is an intelligent and gentle looking person, he also towered over everyone else. Ben decided that maybe he would interview for the job with Tim. As it turned out, Ben was Tim's #1 choice. Ben told me that as soon as he interviewed with Tim, he knew the real reason he had come to the job fair. The Chinese have such a sweet way of expressing themselves sometimes. I told him how Tim had come home from the interview and called me and told me how he had met this man named Ben and he was his #1 choice. Ben was very touched by this.

Tim chose very well. Not only is Ben's English very good, but he is an intelligent, responsible, kind person with an excellent sense of organization. Many a time when he senses confusion he tries to explain the Chinese way of thinking. When I have asked him to help me learn to say certain lines in Chinese he always gives me gracious ways of expressing myself. I know this not due to my great knowledge of the language, but from the responses I get when I use Ben's lines. I have had many an interesting conversation with him about politics, philosophy, and relationships. I always look forward to visits with Ben.

Living Upside Down

Fall 2000

As a child growing up in the USA, I remember thinking about people in China that lived on the opposite side of the earth. And we were right side up so that meant they were upside down, right? I remember early mental pictures of them living this upside down existence. That childhood concept has felt a bit more true as of late. I am a bit off today. 'Off' of what I am not sure as my sense of 'on' and every other sense is a bit up for grabs these days. Not that that is really bad, but it is different than at home. So many different stimuli. I have adapted an attitude of 'try it out' towards most everything, with the exception of a few things. I will not eat cats or dogs, drink Chinese 'wine', and will not try to make sense of a menu. I started out today with a poor night's sleep.

Last night we had dinner in the room of a couple that are managers here at the factory. They live in literally one room that is about 10' x 12'. They have bunk beds, two small tables and a number of electric cookers, dishes, and stools stashed under things. They have really done an amazing job with the space however it is a real wake up call as to the degree of luxury we live in at home. Tim and I agreed we were embarrassed to have them over to our condo. This woman, Jong and her husband Sam had us over for dinner and a lesson in how to make dumplings. We went over with a translator since neither the couple spoke English. When we arrived Jong had made the dough and between her and the translator explained and demonstrated how to roll out the dough into little rounds, leaving the center a bit thicker. We filled the dumplings with finely hand chopped mutton and beef seasoned with salt, garlic, and msg. Jong says she never has the meat ground as the taste is not as good. They showed me how to fold them up, pleating them a bit on the sides and then we boiled them, added cool water to the pot and then boiled them again, and then added cool water and boiled them again. While we were making the dumplings Sam was frying peanuts in peanut oil and salt. When it was all ready the five of us sat around a card table size table and ate dumplings all evening. We had a wonderful Chinese tea and the two Chinese men drank Chinese wine nonstop for the rest of the evening. This 'wine' is actually a 50 proof clear alcoholic drink that is very popular. Unfortunately, the wine very rapidly erased a large part of our translator’s English vocabulary which made conversation increasingly challenging and interesting, depending on your point of view. Since we were not trying to get life saving directions I was better able to just flow along with the evening.

Tim is so loved here and people are normally quite verbally appreciative, but when they get a bit tipsy the praise goes off the charts. Hearts flow and things are said that are very interesting and it is quite an amazing experience. Along with drinking, these two men smoked quite a bit. So here we are in a small room with five people and about a pack's worth of cigarette smoke drifting around. By any ordinary standards I would have had a screaming headache. Luckily I am out of the territory of ordinary standards so I was fine.

My sleep was different than usual last night and I was a bit groggy this morning. I went for a walk, ate breakfast, got dressed, did some wash, picked up, listened to some Mandarin language tapes, and then the truck picked me up to go to the factory for lunch. Got there and was feeling pretty good. Then I discovered I had worn underwear that showed through my clothing. Being the only western woman among 4000 workers, it isn't like I am exactly low profile here. I walk in and I am certain I am studied for what they think is the latest in American fashion trends. I haven't broken the sad news to them yet. Luckily Tim had a jacket at his desk, so I tied it around my waist. This seems to have caught many an eye. Who knows, I may be starting a whole new fashion rage for the Chinese mainland.

I make period costumes and have a business making one of a kind children's clothing, but through translation I suspect many have come to think I am a fashion designer of sexy clothing for Hollywood movie stars. I know they are thinking of pictures they have seen in magazines, a glamorous job in the big city, on and on. I have tried to correct their vision by explaining how I make these costumes for a small dance groups and for children. But the mere fact that I am from a culture that can even think about having costumes or custom clothing is another world and their eyes are still wide with amazement. I finally gave up trying to explain my 'high fashion' job to them and told them I would bring in my costumes as I finished them. They were like little girls - can I try them on, can you make me one, are they formal, full skirted. At least two of these young women would fit into any of these pieces I am making. And how will their concepts of American fashion be changed when they see my work? It could be interesting.

Chinese Believe It Or Nots

Fall 2001

Here in the south of China, creativity knows no boundaries, need is the mother of invention and the steamy heat clenches the deal. The many cars and trucks we see on the roads today are a relatively new development here in China. As a result most people are still adjusting to motorized traffic and learning about road safety. At this point in time, at least where we are located, just about anything your mom told you not to do on your bike is done on a daily basis. Helmets are often used as hood ornaments and sometimes people drive without their lights on at night to save their batteries. We have yet to see a light on a bicycle and the middle of the road seems to be the favored place to ride, day or night. Cyclists with or without a motor seem to be either fearless or oblivious or both to everyone else on the road, regardless of their size and the rate of speed they are traveling at. And you would get laughed out of town if you suggested anyone use a directional signal. The following items are actual examples of things Tim and I have seen being transported on a two wheeled vehicle.

1 a pool table

2 an extension ladder held by the passenger riding behind the driver

3 a 8 foot step ladder held by the driver

4 you plus 4 adult friends (do pick your friends wisely)

5 a bathtub

6 2 friends and 6 chicken coops

7 a family of 5 plus groceries

8 4 bales of hay

9 2-5 gallon bottles of water

10 propane tanks - the delivery vehicles are actually bicycles

11 a 50 gallon aquarium

12 tow your friend on a bicycle with your motorcycle

13 if your friend has a flat, give him a lift and he can hold the bike out to the side

14 let your friend walk and while you hold his bike out to the side and drive your motorcycle

15 beach umbrella

16 one enormous hog

17 a TV

18 a 2x8 that is 10' long

19 bags of Styrofoam measuring about 6' by 6'

20 a stuffed chair

21 your bike truck-garden; crates of fruits and vegetables, a table, and an umbrella

22 a 6' tree with root ball

23 a relaxed sidesaddle passenger that is not holding onto the driver and often holding an umbrella up for shade -- I kept seeing this done daily by women everywhere, so I tried it minus the umbrella. I’m sure Tim and I provided a big laugh for many that day. If you decide to try this, line up your masseuse first. It is easier said than done.

24 several flats of plants

25 saddle bags style crates full of vegetables that clear the ground by 3"

26 an award winning combo: full saddle bag crates, 6 chicken coops, 2 passengers

27 several gallons of paint and a ladder

28 a futon

29 a sheet of plywood

30 20' or so of pipe

31 3 large potted plants

32 a rounded pile of stuff that looked to be the driver's entire household belongings

33 a bundle of shrink wrapped pink and purple satin pillows measuring about 5' wide and 4' tall

34 9 chicken coops measuring about 5' wide and 5' tall

35 a traveling balloon salesman with a rack of balloons that extended 5' above the bike and a helium tank strapped on the back

36 a galvanized cooler probably for fresh fish 3' tall, 3' deep, and 5' wide

Olympic Bartering Team

Fall 2001

I just wanted to buy a simple sewing machine. All I needed was straight stitch, zigzag and buttonhole. Tim and I figured I could pick one up anywhere. As it turned out, it was a major excursion to Guangzhou, a large city about an hour away. Cindy, our oven bartering buddy, excitedly offered to go with us which was a blessing. As it turned out no one we interacted with that day spoke English. As we approached the city we began to see hundreds and hundreds of tall of apartment buildings. They were mostly nice looking, in pastel colors, and all had the ever present balconies. I had never seen so many apartment buildings in one area. I was in awe, but that awe did not prepare me for the crowds in the city. I started to get a sense of what China's population of 5 times that of the US actually means. Not only that, but China's landmass isn't very much bigger than the US. Until coming here to China, my Asian geography was fairly nonexistent. Somehow I thought China was maybe twice the size of the US. I have also found several other areas of knowledge that are fairly nonexistent for me, and although I was out to find a sewing machine, China was out to educate me in her ways.

When we got in the city we drove around for quite a while looking for a parking place. It was strange, I didn’t see any parking garages or curb side parking. I kept getting this sense that everyone either rode the bus or walked into the city or else just drove through the city. Cindy was sitting in front ordering the driver go here, go there. We just sat in the back and looked out the windows. I could tell she felt inspired when she started excitedly talking to the driver and pointing in back of us. Within seconds the driver did a dramatic ‘U’ turn in front of four lanes on coming vehicles who all laid on their horns. I thought that was going to be it for me. Debbie Freeberg-Renwick - born in Roswell, New Mexico - died in Guangzhou, China. But then everyone just mooshed around us and everything went back to normal chaos. Sometimes when I am in Chinese traffic I get this image of an army of ants. Hundreds of them can all be running along in a stream and if you put a little stone in their way they all immediately readjust to the obstacle and continue their journeys.

While I was still catching my breath, the driver turned into a wide gated area with guards that motioned us on. We drove down a narrow pretty lane that had lots of trees and flowers and then turned off and parked. We were on the University grounds. Since Cindy had attended this school, I thought maybe she had decided to give us a tour. As we started walking towards the gate and she calmly told us that if anyone asked, we were students. Only people with the university were suppose to park there. My blood ran cold as I really didn't think crossing any Chinese authority figures was such a good idea. I suggested they could ask for our student identification cards. She said she was sure no one would ask any questions since we were foreigners and if they did they would ask in Chinese since they probably couldn't speak English anyway. She added that we should just keep walking. We walked in silence the rest of the way to the gates. Luckily no one asked or hardly seemed to notice us as we walked by. But I noticed the guards checking every car of all Asian people at the gate.

In spite of all the street noise and hordes of people, I felt an immense relief once we got past the gates. Cindy pointed across the street to the fabric district and I excitedly proceeded to step out in front of the four lanes of traffic that we had just done the 'U' turn in front of. I quickly realized this was not a good idea and retreated to the curb. There were countless eight or ten foot wide alleys full of little cubby hole shops filled with fabric. The variety was amazing but not as amazing as the surroundings. Many no smoking signs were posted, but either no one noticed them, no one could read them, or no one cared. Many people smoked, but the most peculiar thing was the ongoing stream of motorcycles and small vehicles that drove down the alleys. While looking at the fabrics I had to keep one eye on the alleyway so I could quickly step into cubbies to get out of their way. They did the usual 'I am here' beeping, but when everyone is beeping at the same time it all just blends together into this noisy din. And the exhaust fumes combined with the sewer gases made for an air quality that was quite unbelievable. I seemed to be the only person who had any notice or care about this. Most people just sat in their little shops, drinking tea, eating lunch, visiting or napping as if nothing was wrong.

When we found the sewing machine shops most of them carried only industrial machines. We finally found a couple that had domestic machines. They had machines set up for people to try. As I looked them over I noticed a small crowd gathering around and realized it was to watch me, the foreigner. I tried out a couple and then found one that ran fairly smoothly. I turned to Feng and brightly commented that I liked this one, it was really good. She looked at me with a bit of impatience but mostly amusement, came up close to me, and told me to never use the word 'good'. She informed me that 'good' was one English word all Chinese salesmen knew. If I say good, the price will skyrocket. She was right. I could have bought that machine at Lord and Taylor for less. There was no turning back. We left that shop and went on to the next one. I had learned my lesson and tried to keep a poker face and a dull tone of voice as I checked out their wares. The machines were cheaper and didn't run as well, but I found one that seemed to fit my needs. I told Cindy I could settle for this one. She came up close and asked if it was good. I almost burst out laughing. I nodded and she smiled while looking a bit mystified.

Then she set to work bartering for the machine. I was tired and really just wanted to just buy the machine and get home. But as I have realized, there are certain things you just have to go with, so I tried to settle in for the ritual barter. I have started to think that bartering is one of the most popular sports here in China and Cindy is Olympic quality. I like Cindy a lot, but she is one to have as a friend and not an opponent. No one stands a chance with her, but she seems to enjoy it so much that she takes forever before going in for her kill. She asked the price and acted shocked and they went back and forth for a while. The salesman acting very insistent and firm and her pointing and making what seemed to me to be insults of the machine's quality. She finally turned to me and said it was too much and we should leave. This may have been a bartering tactic, but I couldn't go along with the routine any longer. I just wanted to buy the machine and get home. I was ready to give them their price. She told me it was around $200. It was my turn to be shocked. I said I was sure they had started very high since I was a westerner. I became energized as I told her how it was a cheap, rough running machine. I told her they could never sell that machine for that much because I would never have to pay that much in even the US. This was the truth and I was quite sure the salesman was aware of this also. I began to tell her it's failings, which were many. She lit up as she gathered ammunition and went back to work. We went back and forth. I used the machine a bit more and told her more about it and showed her what I meant. We stood as a unified formidable team. We ended up getting the machine for $70. USD which is about what I would have paid in the US for the machine. I am sure the shop owner got much more than he would have from a local person. But entering the bartering 'zone' with Cindy made time stand still. In the end she, the salesman and I all smiled with satisfaction at each other and at a barter well done.

Not Just Any Company Party

Winter 2000

On December 29 there was a company party that Tim and I decided we should show up for. We were told there would be about 1500 factory workers and office staff. We imagined everyone standing around visiting in some dialect we couldn't understand so we decided we would just go for a few minutes and then go home. When the driver picked us up and I noticed he had a suit on. I mentioned this to Tim and asked if he thought he should wear a suit. Of course he was sure a polo shirt was just fine. Well, we got to the factory and talked to the financial advisor and she agreed with me that he should dress up more. So, we went back home and Tim got on his best duds and it was a good thing...

When we got back to the factory's office, Tim had some last minute work to do and I was fussing with email when the head of personnel came and insisted, in Cantonese mind you, that he escort us right then to the party. So we followed him to one of the factory buildings which are about 10,000 square feet. We could hear people singing long before we got to the building and entered to see a group of workers on stage singing their hearts out. The stage was beautifully set up in red and gold. Amidst all the singing we got escorted to the head table right in front of the stage, complete with a red tablecloth and big bowls of fruit, candy, bottles of coconut juice and water and the ever-present peanuts. As it turned out, we and a few others, including the mayor and the chief of police of local village, were to be the judges for a big talent contest. There were 23 acts, all neatly typed out in Chinese characters for our 'reference' as the translator told us. That was the end of our plans to go home early.

At the end of the first groups' performance there was thunderous applause. I thought the roof would blow off. The group marched off the stage in an amazingly orderly fashion and the next group came on. After every three acts or so a couple MCs would get a few people up on the stage for a game. It was a riot to watch, even without knowing the languages spoken. The acts included several skits including a trip to the barber, a visit from the fire marshal, and my favorite; a demonstration of how different nationalities greet each other. In the later, they started out with southern China where people shake hands and then hold onto each other's hand for a long time, then moved onto other regions of China, then Japan where each person bowed an infinite number of times, then British where the gentleman kisses the woman's hand, French, German, and then American where people give each other these big hugs complete with vigorous back rubs, during which they pick-pocket each other and then abruptly turn away to examine what they have stolen from the person. One had a cell phone and then other a wallet. I thought I was going to die laughing. Tears streamed down my face, and I think the people around me were more entertained by my response than by the skit. Then there were two classical Chinese dances, one where there were two couples dancing and a singer sang the story. The other dance was performed by friend Jong's daughter and it was one of the most sweet and beautiful things I have ever seen, complete with full costume of northern China. I was so stunned I couldn't even use the camera and my eyes were filled with tears.

I have come to realize that most of my impressions of Chinese dance, fashion and architecture come from the aesthetic of the north. I also find the food from the north much more to my liking. It is the dumplings from the north that I have learned to make. Since there are people from every part of China in this village, there are restaurants that cater to all tastes. All the restaurants here are little diners, none of which have screens on the windows, and many have bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling for light. When I sit down to eat I tuck my pants legs into my socks to slow down the munching of the mosquitoes on my ankles.

The food of Southern China I am least fond of. It tends to be very spicy, drenched in peanut oil, and includes protein sources that I find more challenging, like eel, water bugs, and snake. Even though there are MANY places to eat, Tim and I have never gone to one of these establishments on our own. It is impossible to order anything without a Chinese speaking person along so we go where others think the food is the best. All menus are in Chinese characters that run vertically, so there is no hope. I can't even figure out where one would point to show which dish they want. Anyway, back to the party...

During each act there were usually at least 3 times when the group would like what they saw or heard and applaud loudly. Also during performances, people would bring up a single flower or big bunches of flowers in colored cellophane, doilies and ribbons for their favorite performers. They handed the performer the flower and then bowed to them and left the stage. I was so impressed with how supportive they were of each other. Something that is very popular and was done about ten times, was karaoke acts. The Chinese seem totally at home with a microphone and just blast out that song with total abandon, no matter how good or bad a singer they are. Off key, out of sync with the music, or not sure of the words were very common, but that didn't kill their enthusiasm one little bit.

Tim and I were right in front of the speakers...BIG speakers. We stuck toilet paper into our ears and we still had to cup our hands over our ears at times! It was truly amazing! The Chinese seem to love music. And the more of it and the louder it is...all the better. And if you need to speak to someone at the same time...just shout over it. I really enjoy watching them in action, but I often find myself longing for a moment of silence.

After the talent show there were drawings for the prizes. Tim was asked to come up to the stage to draw the numbers for one of the drawings. The company gave away lots of stuff from boxes of cookies, bags of rice, walkmans, blankets, bikes, and a color TV. Bikes are most people's transportation here, if they have anything at all. Most people do not have a bike though, and it is very common to see two people on a bike - one person riding sidesaddle on the back. Most of the workers walk to the factory, some as far as 2 miles away. As in India and other countries in this part of the world, motorcycles are often the 'family car'. It is common to see three or four on a motorcycle and helmets are seldom used. Anyway, Tim started up for the stage and the crowd went wild. It was the biggest applause of the night. He is so loved here. And I just couldn't get over how enormous he looked up there on stage! They had him draw numbers and read them in English and the crowd would applaud and hoop and holler wildly. Then when the applause died down the MC would the number in Chinese because very few speak or understand English, the person would come up for their prize, and the applause would start up again for the winner. I thought it was going to take all night! The comforters cost about 40 American dollars, as did the bikes. The color TV about $300. Realize the managers probably make about 500-700 American dollars a month. The factory workers make about $100. A young woman factory worker won the TV. I think she was in shock when she went up. She didn't even smile for most of the time she was on stage. When we were being driven home we saw 2 men balancing her TV on the back of a bike so we stopped to offer her a ride. Of course I opened the door and started speaking in English - duh - but at least I motioned for the guys to put it in the back of the truck (which they understood, miracle of miracles) and slid over and patted the seat for her to sit in by me. She hopped in and took my hand with both of her hands started talking away to me in Cantonese - serves me right. Luckily the financial adviser was with us and translated. She told us she just couldn't believe she had won the TV. She said she had never won anything before. She thanked us for the ride, and then the truck stopped in front of a little alley that led to a footbridge that crossed the canal. We could go no further, so she and her friends took off into the night carrying her prize. What a night...

My Hong Kong

Winter 2000

Hong Kong is a very special place for me. A long lost home of sorts. I like the way it looks, the way it smells, the people, the movement, the feel of it. It is also home to a number of clothing designers that I share a common aesthetic with. Traveling to Hong Kong has a magical quality that reminds me of my favorite childhood journey; going to my maternal grandmother's house.

I grew up in the Chicago suburbs and my grandmother lived in New Mexico. It was the 1950’s and early 1960's that we made these trips. we traveled in a Pullman car of the Santa Fe train line. Our private cabin had two bench seats that faced each other and one big window. The adjoining little bathroom I found fascinating year after year. I loved seeing how beautifully everything fit together and how, while we were in the dining car eating it magically transformed from a sitting room to a bedroom! There was also the sink that folded into the wall of the bathroom. I can recall as though it was yesterday the thrill of waking up, lifting the window shade, and seeing the thrilling transformation the landscape had gone through while I was asleep. The gentle colors of the Midwest had changed into the red, red dirt and the clear, intense blue sky of Oklahoma. Then we got into the monochrome desert of New Mexico and I used to marvel at how all this used to be the bottom of the ocean.

When we go to Hong Kong we take a ferry from the mainland. The trip takes about an hour and a quarter. The ferries are filled with all kinds of people from businessmen to families with excited children. It seems almost everyone brings snacks and visits and then nap. The Chinese are expert catnapers. They take a half hour siesta after lunch and any time they have a few minutes you can see them catching a bit of rest. I have decided that these micro naps and their moderate intake of food their main keys to looking so good. They seem to have somehow retained that ability that we all had as children to fall asleep anywhere and wake raring to go.

The approach to the Hong Kong harbor is filled with interesting things to see. There many ships, barges piled high with containers of products waiting to be delivered to the western world, and a wide variety of interesting architecture. Adults and children alike are glued to the windows. Just as the waters begin to get choppy, people start to get in line to exit the ferry. This makes for some interesting bumping around. Actually, lines do not so much exist here as clumps or crowds. When the doors are finally opened the squeeze to get out the door is intense. When I was first here, I would stand aside to let elderly people off first only to have them almost knock me off my feet. Since then I have come to the conclusion that any elderly person who lived through the Cultural Revolution has got to be made of pretty darn tough stock. I now help older people with heavy loads but hold my place in the crowd. But even this took some training. At first I felt I was pushing and would hold back only to end up being the last off the boat. Tim and I would start out standing together and end up with him waiting for me outside. I finally asked him how he did it and he informed me that unless I wasn’t in contact with at least two other bodies I wasn’t doing my job. I made fast progress after that.

My favorite journey within Hong Kong is the journey to Scottish country dance. It is one of those times, just like going to Grandmother's house, where the journey is as sweet as the destination and one I am sure I will never forget. We stay at either the Pearl Garden or the Pearl Seaview Hotel. They were both recently sold and renamed the Dorsett Garden and Dorsett Seaview but they will always be the Pearl Garden and Pearl Seaview to me. I think of them as little pearls; sweet little Chinese hotels, small but clean rooms with some interesting architecture, a nice mix of eastern and western people, in interesting neighborhoods with schools and local markets and night markets that are going strong until midnight or so. Once we get settled we leave our hotel and have a quick walk to the underground, which is fast, clean, and packed to the brim with people. It is around 6:30pm and everyone in Hong Kong seems to be on their way somewhere. I like the names of the different stops. Some are Chinese, like Tin Hau and Tsim Sha Tsui and some are British, like Jordan and Admiralty. The stops are announced in Putonghua and then in English. Both Tim and I have longed for a hidden camera so as to take candid photos of people. We get off and transfer to a bus. I like the bus stop location as it has a fabulous view of I. M. Pei's Bank of China building. It is in wonderful light at this time of day. As we wait for the bus the city lights start to come on, many buses come and go, and I enjoy seeing the many different people from all over the globe, many wearing national dress, and think about all the different lifestyles they lead. When bus #6 arrives, a double-decker vehicle, we go to the top front left seats so we get a good view of the shops as the bus moves along. By now it is 7:00 to 7:15 and the bus ride is about 15 minutes long. The route first goes through a furniture district where we see traditional and contemporary Chinese, western, antique, and every style of furniture you can imagine in-between. Then we pass through a local neighborhood with many different kinds of little shops all bustling with business. Many of these shops are little hole in the wall places maybe 8 or so feet wide with produce spilling out onto the street, with their vendors visiting our in front or sweeping. Windows are jam-packed with products; cooked foods, fruits, fabrics, a pet cat, everything you can imagine plus more. By this time it is starting to get a bit dark and the lit shops look like little glowing gems. I have thought many times I would like to capture this experience visually. I will try with our camera, but I'm not sure that I could do it justice. We pass by alleys with long strings of lights that illuminate many little booths of cooked foods, produce, kitchen wares, clothing, jewelry. Soon the bus takes a turn past a beautiful white mosque that looks like a place that should serve really good Morocco food, lit with lots of strings of colored lights, and we start the climb up the mountain.

The road twists and turns as it climbs. There are the most amazing intersections with little roundabout sort of connections that from the air must look like a bunch of random strings of spaghetti plopped down. I still have not figured out how anyone knows which route to take. To make it even more confusing many of the roads are often one way! Being a tropical area everything is that is not paved road is lush green foliage and where they have cut away for roads they do extensive slope retaining walls and plantings. Landslides, or landslips as they call them, are a big issue in an area like Hong Kong and there are frequent TV warnings about not driving in hilly areas during hard rain. Soon the trees open up and start to reveal picture postcard views of Hong Kong at night. It is breathtaking and must make any local who takes this bus proud to call Hong Kong home. As we climb the mountain the views get more and more dramatic. You can see many different levels down into the harbor. Up in the mountains there are many clubs with lit game fields and they are always active during our climb at night. There are swimming pools, beautiful gardens, many towers of different shapes and colors that are homes for all the many residents of this city. Hong Kong does not light itself up as much as American cities. The overall effect is that it has a more intimate and fairy-like feeling. Plus, although Hong Kong is very densely populated, there is also a large amount of park area and being in the tropics, there are colorful, striking plantings with trees and flowers down the middle of roads, at road sides, everywhere you turn. When we arrive at our stop it is only a few yards to our destination, the Hong Kong Cricket Club.

I have yet to see anyone play cricket at the Hong Kong Cricket Club, which is fine with me since it seems the perfect cure for insomnia. But I have seen folks with tennis rackets, seen the jogging club gasping along, a ballet class, there is a bowling alley, have caught the scent of a swimming pool, and seen a bulletin board with tons of activities for children. The facility is a haven of high gloss glowing mahogany wood, brass railings and deep padded furniture. It is all very inviting and friendly. Most of the clientele are 'big' British and Scottish people and everyone, no matter what their background speaks English which gives it a feeling of home. There is a bar, which is a comfortable pleasant area with great ventilation that usually has most of the dancers in it when we arrive, either having a drink or some come straight from work and are having dinner. They serve British fish and chips, a variety of sandwiches and Tim's favorite, the Irish beers. The smells and faces are familiar and happy and we chat a bit before dance. Soon, whoever is leading dance herds everyone down the hall and onto the beautiful hardwood dance floor with mirrors on two walls and windows on the other two and the dancing begins. In the middle of the dance there is a 15 or so minute break and everyone goes back out to the bar area and chats a bit. Not only is it wonderful to converse easily with others, but it is such an interesting group of people. I love to hear about how they came to live in Hong Kong, where else they have lived and what their future plans and dreams are.

Coming home from dancing is fun also. Often we get a ride to a subway stop with one of the dancers and get to know them a bit better. There are so many adventuresome people leading such interesting lives. We get on the subway and although there are not as many people at 10:30 to 11:00pm as there were at 6:30pm, there are still quite a few. I like how cities stay awake most of the time, and when we get off at our stop there are still many people bustling around. If we have the steam, we window shop a bit. Many shops are still open and we get a bottle of water and cruise around looking at electronics if Tim is navigating and anything else but electronics, if I am navigating. If we are staying at the Pearl Seaview we go to the night market. It looks like the alleys do on the way to dance; lots of strings of lights and everything imaginable for sale from total dime store junk you could find at WalMart, to Chairman Mao alarm clocks, to jade pendants, to western and eastern CD's, to little celadon pots, anything and everything. When we feel like we are about to drop we go back to the hotel and crash. A perfect night.

In the morning we usually take the 8:00am ferry back to the mainland. This is my second favorite time to see Hong Kong, around 7:00am. Cutting through the enormous park on the way to the ferry I enjoy seeing all the retired Chinese people visiting and doing tai chi. There are classes and special areas they call tai chi parks that are round beautiful areas just for tai chi. I have never done this martial art, but find it very beautiful to watch. In this park there are also many fountains, a large pond with flamingos and other water birds and interesting plantings with exotic flowers and blossoming trees everywhere. It is very well laid out. Actually, all of Hong Kong seems very well laid out. Being built on slopes, the buildings are all more easily seen, giving an interesting perspective. There are many bridge walks that tie in with other bridge walks. It is like a living Escher drawing. After we get settled on the ferry, the boat pulls away, the view of the bay begins to open up, and THEN a voice makes an announcement in Mandarin. Then it is made in English, with a Chicago accent no less, no joke. "Ladies and gentlemen! This ferry is going to Panyu and Nansha. If Nansha is NOT your destination, please leave this ferry as soon as is possible! Thank you for your cooperation.

Exclamations

Winter 2000

Tim and I have enjoyed our growing ability to hear the differences between the Cantonese and Mandarin languages. Mandarin, or Putonghua is the official language of China. It has six tones and quality of great solidity and elegance. It has these great 'R's' that you make from the back of your throat. It is my language of choice partly because I like it the best, but mostly because Cantonese has nine tones! I am sure that the term 'sing song' came from westerners listening to Cantonese because it has a wonderful musical quality to it. There some sounds that we find very entertaining. Sounds of exclamation such as 'wah-h-h-h' with the intonation going up at the end, or 'eye-yah-h-h'. These can bring a smile to Tim's or my face no matter what our moods. Of course just about the time you have an experience like this, you become aware of how humorous you sound to others.

Lee and another Chinese man from the factory were driving me to the factory around lunchtime one day. This is not the time to be on the streets at all. Everyone and his mother are going to lunch either wandering casually down the middle of the street, riding a bike with a passenger teetering on the back, or three or four sandwiched on a motorbike. There we were crawling along, Lee laying on the horn and everyone ignoring him. Just after he was able to pick up a bit of speed, a bike that was piled six feet high and five feet wide with chicken crates suddenly swerved in front of us. Lee braked and moved around him in a totally masterful way. Most often when this happens, there are no noises of surprise or frustration of any sort from the Chinese. They are so accepting and loose. Everyone just swerves around the obstacle and continues. Staying flexible while maintaining a quick reaction time is of utmost importance in Chinese driving. This incident went a bit too far even for these fellows who exclaimed loudly. I missed their comments because I was commenting even louder. For the most part I have stopped gasping at incidents such as these, but am still working at adopting a sort of Chinese approach of 'if you don't see it, it doesn't exist'. I regressed and yelled a loud and sustained 'whoa!'. I thought Lee was going to run off the road laughing. They tried to repeat what I had said several times, which made all of us laugh. I repeated it for them and they kept trying it out and laughed for the rest of the trip. And just like Tim and I use an occasional 'eye-yahhh' or 'wah-h-h' for entertainment, I'm sure they are enjoying an occasional 'whoa'!

Lucky Money

February 2001

The Chinese new year celebration is finally over. We have actually been without a firecracker or fireworks for a week or so, and although it was an interesting ten days, I must say it is a relief. The last night of the celebration was the Chinese version of valentines day and we had fireworks half the night. Each day of the new year celebration has a special activity allotted to it, but every day is for celebrating life and friends with lots of food and fun. This is my observation anyway. There are special meals with foods that symbolize long life and good luck and wealth. Everywhere you see kumquat trees loaded with fruit that have their branches bound up so the tree forms a column of fruit. On their valentines day everyone starts eating and giving away the fruit and I hear that numerous creative recipes circulate around for using up all the scads of kumquats that are ripe and ready to be used. Around many of the doorways are red banners with gold Chinese characters written on them. Red lanterns are hung by doorways and often you see many little red lanterns hanging in trees. Every night of the celebration they are lit and are beautiful. Chrysanthemums in purple, red and a purple and white stripe are everywhere. Also popular are peach branches that are in bloom with their beautiful purple flowers. These trees are put by the front door of homes and businesses. Just as we have Christmas tree lots, they have flower markets that are blocks long are set up just for the occasion. Hanging from the branches of the peach and tangerine trees people put little red envelopes with gold Chinese characters on them. They hold what the Chinese call lucky money.

Lucky money is a very popular aspect of the Chinese new year. At least it is very popular with a certain segment of the population. During the 10 days of the Chinese new year single women and children can approach any married person, wish them happy new year while shaking one fist that is covered with the other hand and that married person is to present the wisher with a small red envelope with some small amount of money in it. You present it to the person with both hands and wish them happy new year back.

Belinda, who speaks some English and takes great delight in aquainting us with Chinese customs, was quick to tell us about this custom and even gave us a packet of red envelopes. We asked how much we should give and she said .50 or so was fine, as it was a symbolic gift for good luck. Tim said that we could give more than that, to which she brightened a bit but then told us many people might ask us. I looked around the office and counted up the single women I knew of and looked at her and commented that this could be an expensive aspect of the celebration. She gave me a big smile and said 'yes, very expensive!' As I have come to accept, much does get lost in translation, and I think what she was actually trying to say was that as a single woman she would recieve a lot of money. That is my guess at least, to which I would bet no amount of lucky money. As soon as she finished educating us into the concept of the Chinese new year she then immediately wished us happy new year! I couldn't stop laughing. As Tim was finding some money for her envelope I commented that this holiday tradition was going to be very expensive and suggest we find her a husband instead. Belinda loves to laugh and this seemed to tickle her to the point she started speaking to me in Cantonese. So I replied that I guessed that that must mean yes and should I make him Chinese or American. This she found very funny and announced to the other girls in the office what had just taken place and nonstop Cantonese shrieking took over for the next couple minutes or so.

Belinda was the only woman to wish us happy new year that day. I thought that maybe I had scared them off with my matchmaking offer. The next day was the beginning of the 10 day celebration during which everything closed down, including the factory.
The first day back after the holiday Tim ran into another married man in the office, and he had gone through about $60. US in one morning! He also said he was expecting to go through a lot more before it was over. Since we were both expecting to get asked, we didn't know what to expect. By lunchtime Tim had gone through all the money he had with him. It wasn't a lot, but he was surprised and mainly wanted to get more so he could follow this custom which was so much fun for the girls. He went back that afternoon not having figured out how to solve this problem and Cindy, our wheeler dealer friend came to the rescue without even realizing it.

Tim was in a meeting with Cindy and a Chinese salesman from another factory. At the end of the meeting Tim noticed her going into her intense bargaining mode with him. He didn't know what it was all about but knew there was nothing he could do about it, so just observed her at work. He said the man resisted, but she wouldn't back off. He said he felt sorry for the man, who in the end sheepishly handed Tim a red envelope. Tim was so stunned he didn't even than the man. Men don't receive envelopes unless they are children! On top of that, he is married! But Tim said Cindy seemed quite proud of herself anyway. What a character she is. It turned out to be exactly the same amount of money that Tim had given away that morning so he decided it was truly lucky money.

It was that evening that we went to Helen's wedding dinner. When Tim and I were going up the stairs to the dining hall, we heard a lot of shouting and as we came into the room we saw our driver, Affay, being wished happy new year by a large group of young women. The shouting, shrieking and laughing was deafening in the tile lined room. I found it so funny I couldn't resist joining in with them. I bent my knees so I was their height shook my hands and started shouting happy new year with them. For about 3 seconds no one even noticed but then one of the women, Connie, who was standing in front of me turned around. No doubt she was struck with my unique rendition of the phrase. She looked at me speechless for a couple seconds and then started to laugh and told the other women what I was doing. The laughing got louder, if that was possible and attention went from Affay to me. I think I saved him a lot of money.

The next day when I went to the factory the women seemed a bit shy and for a minute I couldn't figure out what was going on. Tim had the thought that they were wondering if they should approach me for money as they had already approached Tim. I got a bunch of envelopes and went over to a group of them and wished them happy new year and started passing out envelopes, and sure enough, that was it. They all became themselves; smiling, shouting and laughing. But then all of a sudden there were more and more smiling and laughing women - faces of women I didn't even know! It was like when you go to the beach and throw a little piece of bread to the one solitary gull on the beach and all of a sudden every gull on earth is circling your head. I saw Tim through the crowd quickly moving away from me! Later Belinda proudly showed me her stack of lucky money envelopes that she received and would you believe the pile was about 3" thick! She was right, "Yes, very expensive!"

Chinese Rules Of The Road

February 2001

Travel gives the opportunity to see life in a fresh light, from a new perspective. It is a chance to see what is home for others, a chance to expand our views and admire the creativity of the human race. But then after a certain point, there is no place like home. A place where you know in your very bones the ins and outs of life. Where you move through daily life with ease and knowing. The first clue that Tim was ready for our US home came one morning when he came across a stack of red 'lucky money' envelopes. He let out a weary sounding sigh and said the thought of going through another Chinese new year made him feel tired.

And it was at this point that I suggested we go for a bike ride. As we were riding along, Tim on his black delivery bike and me on the 'Bumblebee', I got excited at the thought of getting out of Austin Villa, the development we live in. It was late February and a classic California day of 75 degrees, sunny, low humidity, and a gentle breeze. I was jazzed and commented how we were off for an adventure. A cloud came over Tim's face and he requested I not use that phrase. So, trying to reassure him I said how we were just going out for a two mile bike ride and it was a pretty low risk sort of outing and would be fun. The cloud continued to hover over his head as he explained that just because we hadn't gotten hurt on the road didn't mean we weren't in a high risk situation. He then commented on the Chinese driving style and although I saw his point, the weather and the thought of a change in scenery outweighed the weight of his comments. In my mind, I was off on an adventure.

It was like many of our bike rides. Traffic was not heavy, but very chaotic, organic, whatever... There is a Chinese custom of honking your horn as you are coming up behind someone, undoubtedly to let them you know you are there, but its effect on me is a bit different than its effect on the natives. Locals here may recognize the signal, although they don't usually acknowledge, and everyone just squishes around and keeps moving. I, on the other hand, get a blast of adrenaline with every blare of a horn, and tend to want to leap into the ditch. It does make for tiring travel. But yesterday, I am proud to say, I noticed I had developed a new level of 'selective hearing'. We biked along, getting constantly honked at and only a couple times did I feel that it was something I needed to outwardly respond to. This was when they laid on the horn for an extended amount of time. This usually seems to mean, get out of the way or else. As usual, traffic wildly zigzagged all over the road.

The Chinese roads are a mystery to me. It is as if one culture of people came in and established the roads, lines on the roads, and roundabouts and then they all left. Then another culture of people, unfamiliar with the first group moved in and decided to just use this system in some other way. I am still figuring that other way out. I say that because people just move on them, any direction they please, to get from one place to other. Gas driven vehicles usually travel in one direction on each side of the road, but not always. Roads are often divided down the middle with a meridian and fencing. This is good, but can give a false sense of security also. One thing that has not been planned when creating these meridians is places for folks to turn onto side streets. So, of course people just turn at the closest one, drive against the traffic for maybe a block or so before their turn. When you get to your turn, there are cars wanting to turn towards you so what do you do? Honk and proceed with the degree of courage that your size and speed can demand. Throw in the ever present road construction, women sweeping the roads -- yes, sweeping the roads -- and it is a real scene. What seems so strange is that there is a lot of sweeping of loose bits of debris off roads, but there is a lot of trash next to the roads. This I have never seen anyone picking up. It's one of the many mysteries of the orient for me. You have to watch the road surface as you ride too. They have widened the roads over time and moved the light poles, but a chunk of the base of the poles remains poking up through the cement. Then there are the many pedestrians and bicyclists that insist on moving the opposite direction of the main flow of traffic, and -- no doubt about it, it is not a low risk outing. Tim was right, again, as usual. He loves it when I say that...

Winter In Southern China

January 2001

My least favorite part of winter in the tropics is the mosquitoes. This is the wettest time of year and with so many canals and ponds around here mosquito breeding is off the charts. ?The mosquitoes here look more like our fruit flies, are completely relentless, and silent, so you only know they have bitten you when you start to itch. Thick swarms of these bugs call our stairwell home. Our stairwell is six stories tall. And yes, we live on the top floor. The good part, if we must find that, is that they do inspire the excellent workout of a quick dash up 6 flights of stairs! I close my eyes a bit and keep my mouth closed during the dash, as they are often so thick that you can feel them hitting your face. Then when we open the apartment door they flood in. We have gotten pretty good at tricking them into not coming in, but at least one or two usually outsmart us. Our current strategy is to put up a mosquito net just inside the door so we can come in, kill what mosquitoes that came in with us, and then voila! Maybe no bites at night. In Tim's old place he had a mosquito net over the bed. They still seemed to sometimes make it around the folds once in a while, but it was much better. Tim's main problem was the short beds here in China. His feet would hang over the end a bit thus touching the net, and would you believe those bugs bit the ENDS of his toes? In our current bedroom, the room is too small for the net, so I am going to hang a net curtain at the door.

How you deal with mosquitoes here has been amazing to watch. Another one of those mysteries of life. Most people just spray insecticide around like some folks spray room freshener. Room freshener, right...there's a concept, but anyway... needless to say, we don't do that. Tim found a very clever Chinese invention for killing bugs that looks like a badminton racket with wires stretched across the opening. When you press a button on the handle an electric current goes through its wires. You just slowly pass this 'racket' through the air over the bug and zap! I found this loud zap rather unsettling at first, but now, like Tim, I have come to feel a deep sense of satisfaction every time I hear it. We both utter a loud 'ahhhh' whenever it goes off. This sort of device is very necessary in fighting the war with these creatures because these little bugs are so tiny that you can just barely see them. You see them for a second and then they disappear... very frustrating. And just because they are small does not mean they have a small bite. Actually the bites themselves are small, but itch...wow! And would you believe that many of the Chinese don't have screens? And I am talking about folks in our development who have money. We had screens custom made for this place! So maybe you are having an icky, beyond the call of duty winter, but hey...have you gotten any mosquito bites?!