Letters From China

My First Trip To China

2008-06-15T15:00:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T14:58:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T14:56:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T13:55:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T13:10:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T13:01:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T12:46:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T12:28:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T12:26:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T12:21:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T11:50:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T11:28:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T11:25:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T11:18:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T11:05:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-15T10:45:00.000-07:00

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?!

Chinese Compassion

2008-06-15T10:42:00.000-07:00

The following letter was published in the Iowa Source soon after September 11, 2002:

For the last year and a half my husband Tim has been doing work for a Fairfield based company in southern China. I have spent several months visiting him and had the good fortune to see a bit this great country. I have long admired the Chinese sense of style and color. My hand mixed paints for our former house were even based on classic Chinese paintings. This wonderful mysterious place that only lived in my imagination has been replaced by an even more wonderful mysterious place now complete with faces and friends! Friends in the US have asked what the Chinese people's attitude is towards the US tragedy of September 11, and I would like to share what I have heard and experienced with you.

The Hong Kong news reported the Chinese government expressing great sadness, outrage, and extended condolences to the American people. Many, many bouquets and wreaths of flowers were taken to the US consulate in Hong Kong by Chinese people. Several Hong Kong churches held prayer meetings. In the Hong Kong Scottish country dance newsletter condolences were expressed on the front page. Here in mainland China, I notice people's responses to me are either more silent, respectful and observant or more openly friendly. Security has been increased and we now see armed guards at the ferry terminal that goes over to Hong Kong. When Hong Kongers on the street were interviewed, many expressed sadness for the recent US tragedy. But then some people have been quoted as saying they thought they thought the US was imperialist. I had to look up the word to figure out what they meant. Once I read the meaning of the word I could see their point. I read in the South China Morning Post that a high ranking person in the Chinese military said that China was supporting the US anti-terrorist campaign for economic reasons. This person said that they saw the US as a long term enemy of China. As you can imagine I found this a bit chilling. It is not like I can blend in around here if the going gets tough. But then I got to thinking and realized that yes, every country has these sticky histories with many other countries. Everyone has their own personal reasons for banding together at this time, but we are banding together and that seems to be, in my view, one of the most important positive outcomes of this tragedy. Overall I feel quite safe here. Given all the unknowns of our future, I plan to stay here and come home when Tim returns. It is good to be together right now and I don't want to travel separately.

Two days after the September 11 tragedy I had an experience that made me realize how lucky I am to be alive and to be here in China. I was still in shock from hearing the events from home, but feeling quite steady and looking forward to getting a massage. I had Tim's translator Ben call ahead and reserve one of my favorite masseuses, Ah Peen. That is my phonetic spelling of her name. She is a teeny, tiny, delicate and beautiful woman who is about 20 years old, strong as an ox and as intuitive a masseuse as I can imagine. Ah Peen also has some of the most interesting pronunciations of my name; Nobbie, Dobbie, or almost anything that is two syllables and ends with an "E" sound. She always greets me with a big smile and her latest rendition of my name. I have learned to respond to a wide variety of sounds. In turn, I give her a smile and my latest rendition of her name.

The Chinese massages here start with the head and face. When done well, it seems to erase fatigue and strain I didn't even realize I had. That day in particular it felt so wonderful, but I think, due to her expertise and her strong nurturing energy, the floodgates of my emotions broke open. Tears started to flow and I was engulfed in grief. I was embarrassed but felt helpless to stop the flow.

She first thought my response was due to the massage, and started saying "solly, solly", her pronunciation of sorry. Since we are limited in our ability to communicate with each other, all I could think to say was "It's OK, it's OK". Finally she came around and looked me right in the eye and started stroking my arm. She started talking to me, talking to me as if I could understand what she wanted to tell me. She asked questions and I couldn't understand and was finally able to remember enough Chinese to tell her so. She didn't give up. She slowed down her speech and finally I heard her ask if I was American and I said yes. The compassion from her was as impressive as her massages and she said some very soothing words that went far beyond the level of language. Then she said something fairly fiery about the incident that I could tell was not pointed at America. I cried on and off during the massage, and she murmured little bits of comforting sounds. During it I lay there wondering if the US goes to war would my ability to communicate in Chinese become more pressing, when would I be able to go home, what do the rest of the Chinese people think about this incident and will we be welcome and safe here. A wind blew around in my head and a gaping hole ached in my solar plexus.

Ah Peen hung in there with me and knew all the right points to go for. She seemed to be able to tell when a wave of emotion was coming up and would go for points that would release everything and I would settle down again. At the end of the massage I called a translator and had him express my appreciation. Her response was that she wanted to help more, and was sorry she couldn't communicate more freely.

During the massage, I again began to wonder about many things, as I am sure we all have over the last couple weeks. A major one is what am I doing with my life and how can I make best use of my time here. Another is, what do I have that can begin to be of true value and comfort to others. I realized we all have so much to learn from each other and if I was somehow not able to get home, I could easily come out the better for it. The East and the West have so much to learn from each other. I heard from a close friend this morning and she stated how this was our chance to show the world and universe what we were really about, who we really are -- for better or for worse. Everyone is watching and waiting to see what and how the US will respond to this incident. The Chinese name for the US translates as 'beautiful country' and we are in a sense the beautiful people. I pray we can take actions that live up to that title. Take care and stay safe. Love to you all.

Running Errands On The Moon

2008-06-15T09:54:00.000-07:00

Fall 2001

It has just been in the last two days that I have been starting to feel like myself again. In coming out of my daze from the September 11 events, I started to realize not only that I could no longer ignore the dust that was rolling around under the sofa but that the excellent camouflaging quality of this gray granite flooring in the kitchen and bathroom was not holding up so well. I will spare you any further details, but it felt good to sweep and mop the floors. Of course if you are going to clean the house, why not have people over to enjoy it? So I suggested we invite the five engineers over for pancakes on Sunday morning. One thing lead to another and then I realized I needed more butter and a few other things, so one of my favorite drivers, Lisheng, picked me up and we set off to run errands. As we were driving along, I noticed something new for Tim’s and my records. We have started a list of unusual items we see transported on the back of two wheeled vehicles, like pool tables and propane tanks! This new item was being carried by a woman on a bike. She had a beautiful bamboo cage that was about 3' wide and 3' tall and 2' deep on the back of her bike. The top of the cage came up into a point. It was a beautiful and intriguing shape. It looked empty but I wondered what it was used for. We moved along as usual -- dodging bikes, motorcycles, trucks, and an elderly man on a three wheeled bike that was going perfectly down the center line of the four lane highway. Maybe it was the safest place to be, who knows. One thing I did notice was that all the motorcyclists were wearing helmets. I have observed that the Chinese are very adaptable. With little or no fuss, they access a situation and make whatever changes are needed. After hearing about a certain number of accidents, I figured people had decided it was a good idea to use helmets. I thought, "This is good, the Chinese are more safety conscious now". Famous last words...

We got within a few vehicle lengths of the toll booths, which are set up very much like the ones in the US, except getting into a lane to pay the toll is a much more hair raising event here than at home. All of a sudden Lisheng swerved over across two lanes of traffic into the far right lane and came to an abrupt halt. He turned to me, pulled out a 6" by 6" plastic sheet with blue Chinese characters on it, said some quick thing in Cantonese to me, gave me a quick grin and jumped out of the truck before I could give him my "I don't understand" in Mandarin. My mouth fell open as I watched him run across the meridian and two lanes of traffic and down a little lane towards a building. All I could think was, "Oh no, don't leave me, Lisheng ! And whatever you do, don't get hurt. I can't face driving this thing back on my own!" Since he left the truck running and the hazard blinkers on, I figured he meant for me to stay. I knew without a doubt that I did not want to negotiate two lanes of moving Chinese traffic, so I stayed put. I figured he was probably renewing the seasonal toll pass for the vehicle, but we seemed to be parked in a lane that was meant for traffic! This was more excitement than I felt a couple pounds of butter and some flour should require, but as I looked around, again I noticed the Chinese ability to adapt. The fact we were sitting in a traffic lane didn't seem to faze anyone but me. Cars, trucks, motorcycles and bikes just went around me. All of a sudden it seemed that none of the motorcyclists had helmets on. I knew it -- the Chinese are not more safety conscious after all. After what seemed like a half hour but was probably five minutes he returned with what apparently was a new 6" by 6" plastic sheet with blue Chinese characters on it, gave me another line in Cantonese and another big grin, put his foot to the floor, and we were off.

Our first stop was the home of the Chinese doctor I have been seeing. I ran in with my request written in Chinese characters since the only person I can communicate clearly with here is the doctor's son. He is about three years old and is not bound by any language barriers. He always comes out to show me his latest toy. To the entertainment of all in the room we then have a multi-language chat in Cantonese, English and my bits of Mandarin. Although all Chinese people have been very encouraging as I struggle along with their language, he seems to totally understand and accept my pronunciation of Mandarin. He also loves to say 'bye-bye' in English. Much to our mutual delight, I can easily join him in this. After many visits, I am actually getting to the point that the smell of the Chinese herbs has a soothing effect on me. I welcomed this today and breathed deeply, got my mysterious herbal concoction, and took off for my next stop -- Trustmart!

In Mandarin I asked Lisheng to take me to Trustmart. He looked at me and said "ehhh?" I tried saying it with several different intonations and after a close call with a truck decided that I was distracting him and gave up. I think he was relieved. I know I was. He does not speak much Mandarin, and my theory is that my particular version of Mandarin is about as meaningful as English to him. So, as we approached the turnoff for Trustmart I pointed, he nodded, and we swerved into the parking lot with no further excitement. There is no way I can give you the full experience of Trustmart. But just for fun, imagine a WalMart with blasting music, a sea of people who mostly come up to your chin, and very few food items you can identify or labels you can read. When many people see us they just stop and stare as if we just walked in without a stitch of clothing on. We often have to actually walk around these people as they stand and gawk. As soon as we smile people usually smile back, but they often seem surprised that we have noticed them.

I have gotten to the point that I know where my items are so I can cruise Trustmart about as fast as I can our markets at home in the USA. The main items I get there are butter, flour when they have it, walnuts, dark chocolate, powdered soy milk, lemons, whole wheat bread, and now olive oil. Olive oil is a new item here. There is a long aisle completely devoted to cooking oil in every shape and size of container you can imagine. It is all peanut oil except for this one file that is tucked in the middle. I see many people checking out with 5 gallon containers of peanut oil. I always wonder what do they do with it all. I have had visions of various possible uses for it including but not limited to car engine lubrication and some sort of Chinese oil massage. However from a lot of food I have had in this area, I have a feeling most of it goes into cooking. I check the area that has the spices every time I go but they have not branched out yet. It looks so encouraging when you first approach it. It looks much like the American spice racks in supermarkets only a bit smaller. The display is probably about 9 bottles wide and 6 bottles tall. I was so excited the first time I saw it but I soon discovered there were just 4 items -- black pepper, white pepper, red pepper, and Chinese 5 spice. Below that is the MSG and iodized salt. That is it for spices.

I walk through the produce area that is beautiful and full of every type of fruit and vegetable possible and then the frozen foods which are very interesting. There are lots of frozen dumplings in many interesting shapes but most items I haven't a clue as to what they are. The dairy section is very small as dairy products are not a popular item in the Cantonese diet. They stock some highly processed milk, Kraft cheese slices, margarine, and sugary yogurt. I can't imagine these items winning anyone over to thinking that dairy products are a fun eating experience. But then amidst all this stuff they have really good New Zealand butter. When I go shopping here my basket has few different types of items but several of each of them. People are so curious and as soon as they see me I see necks craning to get a peek into my basket to see what strange things I am getting. They usually comment to each other. I am used to this now and smile and they smile back, obviously entertained at what I have chosen. Sometimes just a smile is enough to break the ice and they come up and look right in my basket. I have not met anyone I can explain my purchases to, but it is an interesting experience. Today a little boy noticed me putting numerous packages of butter into my basket. I went to put in the last cube and almost put it on his head he was so close to me. He looked up at me with an amazed questioning look, so I smiled and said "We like butter!" in a rather animated way to which he giggled and gave me a big smile.

On the way home I took in the beautifully planted fields and saw the woman with the bamboo cage going back the opposite direction, this time with something in the cage that I couldn't identify. Then I looked up and saw a man walking on the electrical wires! I hope they were telephone wires, but I don't know. You know how telephone poles often have wires strung at the top and then another set of wires a bit further down? He was walking on the lower wires and holding onto the higher ones for balance. What could he possibly have been doing?

When I walked into our cozy apartment with my flour, butter, and Chinese herbs I breathed a sigh of relief and amazement. After all these months there were still so many mysterious things! It is as though I am from another planet. I put down my shopping and started to write about this little trip. I looked over at my bags of items that still sat by the door and thought how different my experience would have been had I gotten these items in the US. I wondered, does a foreigner in the US have as many surprises and questions as I do as a foreigner in China? It is like running errands on the moon!

Bug Juice

2008-06-14T21:04:00.000-07:00

Winter 2001

Just before I came home from China last November, I went to my Chinese doctor to get medicines for home. Laura, a wonderful English speaking Chinese woman from the factory went with me to translate. The doctor is always kind and attentive, but this time she seemed very relaxed and the three of us laughed and joked as much as you can when two of the three people in a conversation cannot communicate. As the doctor gave my tea prescription to her assistant I noticed him saying something to the doctor while nodding at me. He handed the doctor a sort of popsicle stick sized piece of wood and then the doctor showed this stick to Laura and gave her what was obviously very important information. I focused on the two of them as they spoke, picking up a few words of Chinese; 'I' , 'her', 'don't' , 'a little bit' and that was about it, as usual. Laura then turned to me and told me that in my teas this time there was going to be a poisonous bug. Whoa, did I ever miss the essence of that bit of conversation! She continued that she didn't know the name of this bug, but when it is alive if it bites you, you can die if not treated immediately. The doctor didn't want me to be afraid of it. She paused, waiting for me to respond, so I lied and said 'OK' with the perkiest sort of voice I could muster up. Then I looked down at the stick of wood Laura was holding to show me. A dried 4" long centipede looking insect was neatly laid out on the popsicle stick. My mouth fell open and I felt my eyebrows raise off my forehead. Laura then explained that when the bug is boiled in my tea, the juice of it will be very good for me. Unlike many translations, this particular translation created a very distinct image in my mind that I did not believe for a second. I flashed on those chocolate covered ants and grasshoppers that used to be the rage.

Unlike my dear husband who will try most anything, I don't. In particular, I have never been inclined to eat bugs. And here I was, about to pay for, haul home, and try to sneak through immigration 25 bags of herbs with big, old, dried, poisonous Chinese bugs in them. As I was just coming out of shock and into the humor of it, the doctor passed along another gem. Her timing was impeccable. I was to make sure that I didn't FORGET and eat the bug. Laura was very firm on this, using her hands to emphasize her point which was that if I ate the bug I could get very sick. To drink the juice off it was good, but to eat it was not good at all. I snorted. Not a giggle or laugh, but a snort. A loud snort. The Chinese doctor looked up at me sharply and told Laura that she was very serious and I must not forget and eat the bug, eating it would be like eating poison. Now, you must realize this was all coming at me way too fast...I had moved out of a guarded, responsible space where I am the only American these people have ever interacted with, blah blah blah, into a spontaneous free fall Debbie space. It threw them. I wryly told Laura to assure the doctor that there was no way in hell that I was going to space out and eat a bug. I heard a distant strange laugh that must have come out of me because no one else looked like they were even close to laughing. There was a pause. Everyone was silently looking at me, no doubt wondering what I was going to do next. I noticed then that a cloud of confusion had crossed Laura's face. She did not understand, 'There was no way where? That I was going to do what?' Ummm. I switched gears and told Laura to tell the doctor I understood and would follow her advice. With that out of the way, the atmosphere settled a bit. The assistant went back to bagging up bugs and the doctor went back to counting out my pills, but she was a bit watchful of me. As we were leaving she wished me a happy trip home, which I understood! But then I’m sure I telepathically picked up a crystal clear Chinese thought that she was wondering if she had overlooked something that she should be treating me for.

The Culturalization of Mrs. Tim

2008-06-14T20:56:00.000-07:00

Spring 2001

Spring is now in full swing and it is glorious here in southern China. It is about 65 degrees, clear. sunny, and the winds feel warm and fresh. This change in weather has raised my spirits and moved me into another phase of cultualization. I say 'another' and not the 'next', because I am definitely not in 'linear' territory. I say "culturalization" because I seem so spend so much time in a semi-illiterate state of mind, I find myself beginning to create my own new words to describe my new experience. For me the process of culturalization is a bit like moving into a furnished unfamiliar house with alien roommates. Each room tells you more about the inhabitants, how they live their lives, their values. Every detail is another piece of the puzzle. You form likes and dislikes. And over time you find a place in yourself for the place -- and a space in the place for yourself.

In coming to China at first I felt completely open. I observed and absorbed like a sponge everything I could. I ate the food, or at least as much of it as I could recognize as food, I used a wok and tried to blend in as much as was possible for someone at least 10" taller and the opposite coloring. I appreciated all things I observed whether they were the same or different than what I was accustomed to. I admired how the Asian skin looks so fabulous with the lime green and pink that they love so much, how trusting pedestrians are in walking down the middle of the street and how every meeting of more than two Chinese easily becomes a party.

After a while I began to tire of the new and different. I was immersed in unfamiliar territory and had no ground to retreat to and no break from Chinese style anything. I became overwhelmed. Every daily interaction seemed to lead to more judgments. The quaint open plumbing became the damned open sewer, the organic style of driving became the bane of my daily travel, the child like exuberance of the Chinese fireworks that had charmed me, then jaded and irritated me.

It was around this time that homesickness set in and just the sight of Peter Jennings or Dan Rather giving the evening news could bring a tear to my eye. I only drank Earl Grey tea. I ate no rice. I had a deep longing to hear someone besides Tim put a final 'L' on an English word. I feared I would burst out in tears if one more person addressed me as Mrs. Tim or Mrs. Timo, pronounced Teemo, instead of Debbie. Then one day I called Tim and the man that answered the phone actually tried to correct my pronunciation of my own husband's name! I was over the edge and up to my eyebrows with Chinese anything and everything and my reaction was a complete retreat. My Mandarin tapes collected dust and I no longer watched Chinese TV. I dreamed of French toast, Campbell's cream of tomato soup, vanilla milkshakes, and grilled cheese sandwiches made with white squishy Wonder Bread. As far as food was concerned I considered the only option to be western style cooking and my thinking was along the lines of "give me nonstick Teflon fry pans or give me nothing". Any vintage of any western music made my heart sing, including any music I had run from in the past.

My angel directed us to the Dan Ryan Grill. It was a day I wanted to be anywhere but the orient, including my beloved Hong Kong, and then we happened upon this restaurant. It is designed for the desperate westerner that has had one too many pieces of the lifeless Chinese 'cake', bone filled meats, msg to the gills, and just way too many culinary surprises. It was a simple meal that at home you would spend under ten dollars for but in Hong Kong you paid a good $25 USD or more for. I personally considered it medication, for the homesick. And from the looks of the crowd in the place the day we were there, price was not as issue... the only issues were did things like, did they have ice cream for the hot apple pie, was the ketchup the real thing and not some sweet sour version, and were the french fries fried in some neutral oil or peanut oil. Everything was perfect. I could have kissed the feet of that wealthy restaurant owner. You actually felt like you were in a nice, downtown Chicago grill; right down to the way the tables were set with American salt and pepper shakers (as opposed to the Chinese kind where you can't tell one from the other), menus in English (so empowering after the experience of total illiteracy with Chinese menus) big heavy flatware (not a chopstick in sight). The waitresses spoke very clear English, the music was American being played at a moderate level. The bliss I experienced was something that I would not have understood in my pre-China days.

Some time went by and then the realization hit me one morning when I was checking e-mail and overheard a conversation between two men. I enjoyed hearing the sounds they made and I realized I had a good idea what they were talking about. I hauled out the wok and my language tapes soon after that and started exploring again. I felt comfortable and more relaxed. I turned on the TV and enjoyed the Mandarin and Cantonese accents. I still have questions as to whether or not I am actually programmed with the ability to produce some of these Mandarin sounds, but that is another phase further along in the culturization of Mrs. Tim.

Tell Us A Story

2008-06-14T20:39:00.000-07:00

Spring 2001

It was Friday night at the office around 8:30. Tim had just run off to some meeting and Fred and Ben, two wonderful Chinese friends and I chatted as we waited for Tim to return. Fred told us a story he had read in the Guangzhou newspaper. It was an American's impressions of Chinese restaurants. He told with glee how the American went on and on about how noisy Chinese restaurants were and how a UFO from outer space would be able to detect the location of any Chinese restaurant from quite a ways off just by the high noise level. I wish I had a recording of Fred telling this story which was interspersed with his irrepressible giggles. I was laughing to the point of tears, partly at the story and partly due to his storytelling style. Although the Chinese seem to be very social and fun loving, laughing with quite as much exuberance as I was displaying does not seem to be so much their style. Both men were doing these funny little giggles, partly at the story and partly, I am certain, at my reaction to the story. I commented that I had also been struck with how deafening most of the restaurant were. They beamed with pride. I was confused but did not comment or question their response. We talked about the local restaurants and Fred said that if you want to have a nice meal and take time to visit with a friend you go to McDonald's, pronounced Mahdono's, which I find very charming. The 'C' and 'L' sounds are very difficult sounds for the native Chinese speaker. I told them how it was just the opposite in the US. You only went to a fast food place if it was a fast eating experience you wanted. Then there was a pause in the conversation and both men looked at me expectantly and I knew what these 30 year old men must have looked like at age seven or so. It was a very sweet moment.

Then Fred asked something in a hushed but excited tone of voice. I was so distracted by the change in his voice that I completely missed the content of what he had said. I hadn't a clue. I was embarrassed, but saw no alternative other than asking him to repeat himself, to which he said, "Tell us a story". I felt like I was about to tell a bedtime story to two little boys. I did a quick mental flip through the many e-mail stories and decided on my first Chinese restaurant experience. So, imagine listening to a foreigner talking about something that is as mundane as McDonald's to you, but as foreign as the moon to them. If I could have a video of their faces during the recounting of this story I am certain it could win first prize from one of those American home video shows.

When I first arrived in China I felt like I was in a bit of a dream. I felt good, but there is a 13 hour time difference which takes a while to adjust to. On my second night here Tim and I got invited to go out to eat with two friendly Chinese women, Winnie and Janet, who took us to a Southern Chinese style seafood restaurant. I was excited to experience China in every way I could. I like Chinese food and I like seafood, and this was FRESH seafood! I just didn't realize how fresh it was really going to be. I was feeling awake when we left to drive to the restaurant, but due to jet lag soon fell quite deeply asleep. I awoke about 45 minutes later to bright lights, dirty white ceramic tile, and lots of chrome. I was a bit groggy, but hungry and looking forward to the experience.

As we entered I immediately noticed the odors were not those of a restaurant at all, but a pet store. At this point I took a moment to explain 'pet store' to my audience. I was puzzled when I was steered not to a table, but to a long row of aquariums that had a wide variety of water creatures in them. Some I recognized as fish, shrimp, and lobster. But some I had no idea what they were or which end was coming or going. I asked Tim what a pet shop was doing in a restaurant. He clarified the inhabitants' destinies were to be on our plates and I woke up a bit more. Winnie and Janet were excited and almost shouting, as is the speaking style of many here. They were completely in their glory ordering the deaths of this and that creature. They were obviously excited to show us a good time with their finest local cuisine. I on the other hand was putting the brakes on my embracing of the Chinese cultural experience and all I could think was how God had to help me get real clear that I wanted only shrimp and lobster. No unidentifiable sea nothing -- period. Tim, who by that time had willingly eaten eel, donkey, and something else I have blocked out of my memory forever, was right in there with these women, oohing and ahhing. What is this, what is that, how to they cook it -- and casually told our hosts my requests as we proceeded on down the line of tanks.

A groggy state of mind is not a state in which one should contemplate their first Chinese meal and my illusion of mainland China Chinese food being the same as any American Chinese food I had ever had was fading at an alarming rate. I had to get a grip. I decided I would do best to go on ahead and basically pretend I was at Sea World and not a restaurant so I turned down the last aisle of tanks. That plan was foiled immediately as I met up with two large barrels full of water that had tons of quarter size water bugs swarming on the surface. As Janet walked up I turned and made the mistake of asking what fish bait was doing in the restaurant. She said they were a delicacy and were prepared by frying in peanut oil -- and did I want some. All I could utter was a weak sounding 'oh no'. I turned around in an effort to block them out of my memory and came face to face with another aspect of Chinese cuisine. A dozen or so scrawny, marinated until they were black, birds complete with feet and heads hung on a cord as if they were clean laundry put out to dry. There was no escape...

By this point in my story Fred and Ben had lost all of their normal composure and were howling and muttering little bits of Mandarin to themselves and each other. I paused and asked if they were OK and wanted me to continue or was it too much for them. This almost put them on the floor. Oh yes, I must continue they insisted. They were so easy to entertain. So I continued to tell them how we were finally seated at the standard Chinese table; a round table with a lazy Susan built into the center of it. This was a table designed by people who love to eat, share their food and visit. I like all these things too, but sharing their food was to be a challenge. Even looking at some of their food was a challenge. A waitress took orders for drinks. Sprite was on the menu which was all in Chinese characters. I bet I hadn't had a Sprite in 10 years, but it sounded safe, secure, a gift from God. I ordered a large glass. A can and a glass arrived, the usual in China, which I have come to realize is a good thing. You want to know where everything comes from. Your liquids and your dishes. You only drink water out of sealed bottles and before you eat you rinse your dishes and chopsticks with some hot tea. The restaurants provide waste bowls for this routine done by all. But this was before I knew all this so I just poured some Sprite in the glass, took a big drink, and felt a sense of ease spread throughout my whole being. The power of the familiar can be a wonderful thing. Soon the food started to arrive, dish by dish, with a few moments in between. Over time I have come to enjoy this style of presentation. I like being given a chance to admire each dish and look forward to the next one. In actuality, it may just be that they bring out different dishes whenever they are ready, but I prefer to believe the first scenario. But that first evening I used those few moments in between each dish's arrival to regroup and brace myself for the next dish. First the shrimp arrived. Not cleaned headless American shrimp, but Chinese shrimp with everything still intact. Did you know the eyes go black when they are boiled? Gruesome looking, I told Ben and Fred at this point, to which they nodded and laughed like school boys. Then came some of those poor little birds I had come nose to nose with. I was told they were pigeons, but they were not the American big city plumb variety, but the low fat Chinese variety. And then came some noodles and vegetables that I decided was going to be what I kept my vision locked onto for the rest of the evening. But then I got distracted when the chicken arrived and was placed in front of me. The head faced me, which is an honor in the Chinese culture, but the honor was wasted on this foreign idiot. Tim said I literally went green and as he and I simultaneously went to turn the lazy Susan and move the honor on to someone else, my glass of Sprite overturned into my lap. My stomach was on the defensive and I prayed to all the gods I could think of to keep it from emptying its contents at that very moment. By this time Ben and Fred were holding their sides as if in pain and laughing with tears in their eyes. I had to pause as I was laughing at their reaction to my tale. After we all regained a bit of composure I proceeded.

After seeing the shrimp with those black eyes any appetite for shrimp had immediately been extinguished. Winnie was not aware of my change in plans however, and proceeded to give me a lesson in how to prepare them for eating. First, she told me, you first pull the head off like this. And she made sure she had my full attention as she demonstrated. And then the many legs -- I had never pulled the head or legs off of anything besides Mr. Potatoehead, and by that point felt as if I was starting to hallucinate. I remember how strange my laugh sounded, and there was this light feeling in my head. After the full demonstration she gave me a piece of partially cooked chicken and took the feet for herself. Chicken feet are a delicacy. Another Chinese delicacy that I will never know the taste of. I did not watch how she ate them. Mercifully, any peripheral vision I had was totally blocked for the time. My tunnel vision went back to the vegetables and noodles, which, I must add, were very good. One of the vegetables was very young bamboo. Sort of like that baby corn you see in American Chinese food, only bamboo. It was tender and sweet and cooked in coconut milk and spices. The mushrooms melted in my mouth and had a beautiful soy based sauce on them. The noodles were simple, but looked hand made, were not too hot and felt soothing. There was way too much peanut oil and the spicing was a bit strange to me, but that is just part of southern Chinese cooking. Since then I have become accustomed to seeing chicken heads on the table and can pull the heads and feet off of the shrimp and I have even tried a tiny bit of pigeon and eel, but that is my limit. No water bugs, no chicken feet, no half cooked chicken, no snake, no turtle, no thank you.

Fred and Mary's Engagement Party

2008-06-14T20:15:00.000-07:00

Winter 2001

Last night Tim and I went to Fred and Mary's engagement dinner. It was at a restaurant just across the road from the development where Tim and I live, so we walked over. We hugged the edge of the road while people honked and whistled by. Fred and Mary met us in front of the restaurant and escorted us upstairs to a private room where my all time favorite karaoke singer, Ray, was at work creating his own unique form of entertainment. The volume was truly amazing with four large speakers mounted on same the wall as the TV. Ray has the stage presence of a Sinatra. He flips the mike cord out of the way with his foot like an old pro. I am in awe. I am equally in awe of his amazingly consistent sense of pitch which is always a significant amount lower than the music on the tape. Ray needs to be introduced to lip-syncing, or maybe not...

Everyone then greeted us and most of them had some little bit of English to greet us with. It was very sweet. Most I had never heard speak a single word of English. I was touched at their efforts to include us and make us feel at home. As the next karaoke singer began, I found my digital camera and started clicking away. People started crowing around so I showed how you could instantly see your and the crowd went wild. Forget the wedding couple, this was a chance for everyone to pose together for all of posterity. Items such as this camera are very good at bridging the language barrier. However, this evening, with the volume being what it was, I got the sense we understood as much of what was being said as anyone else. Smile, laugh at whatever, and you are in. Soon dinner started to be served and the volume went down a wee bit on the TV. First a soup pot was brought out and 12 small bowls of soup were placed on the large lazy susan in the center of the table. Over time, dish by dish of food came out; one delicious course after another. I looked around at all these kind people and felt thankful for having met them and for their friendship. It all seemed to flow just the way it should. It actually sort of felt like home.

My First Day At School

2008-06-14T20:10:00.000-07:00

Spring 2002

Today I visited a local Chinese middle school. I asked Ben, Tim's translator to call the school and ask if they would like an American volunteer to help kids with English pronunciation. They accepted my offer, asked me to give a little talk, and said they would send a car to pick me up at 2:30. I prepared a little show-and-tell that included a map of the world, some US currency, a couple US magazines, and some English and herbal teas. At 1:45 I got a call saying they were on their way. Things do not run early in China in general, so I had a feeling this was considered a big event. A van met me with 7 of their staff of 20 English teachers. They were all beaming and thank goodness all spoke quite clear English so it was easy to converse. I introduced myself to the woman beside me and she introduced herself to me. I repeated her name which was 3 words, surname first and then a two word given name. She complimented my pronunciation. I thanked her and then said that I would also have to apologize now because I knew the chances of me remembering her name were slim. They found this very amusing and then Ben suggested that they give me their English names. I agreed this would make it much easier and they seemed happy to use them. The three-syllable-named woman became Sally and there was a Silvia, a Tracy, a Shirley, and some other very American names. Then the department head said his Chinese name and they all giggled. One of the women said his name was the color yellow in Chinese so I could call him Mr. Yellow.

When we got to the school I was very impressed and said so. It was enormous and well designed. They have about 2000 students from age 13 through 19. There were several three story high buildings that were all linked together by open air hallways. Some of the hallways formed courtyards that had attractive plantings in them. As we walked up to the building I felt a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. What was this all about? I came to help out with English but what were their plans? We walked by many classes of students reciting Chinese and English in unison, and some quiet classes of kids studying. There averaged about 40 kids to a class. The school had a very good feel to it. It felt much more open and friendly and yet also much more focused than my memories of junior high and high school. I relaxed and enjoyed every minute of the tour. In every stairwell was a piece of classic Chinese brush and ink painting. They were beautiful pieces that reminded me of a book I was very fond of in my undergraduate days. They showed me the library and study rooms, language labs, and computer labs. It was enormous and quite spacious. I don't know what I expected, but I was very impressed.

We went back to a conference room where they had a long oval table and this was when I realized what a big deal my visit was. This was not just about helping with English pronunciation as far as they were concerned. They had many kinds of fruit in baskets and bottles of water all around the table. If you ever notice on the news when there is a conference in China, this is the set up that is used to welcome important guests. We all sat and they spoke for a few minutes in Chinese and then Tracy turned to me and proposed that I come back again on Friday afternoon and meet with a few students and teachers. I said I would be happy to do that. Then they suggested I speak to a class of students and then meet with all the English teachers. On our way to the class of 13-year-olds, Sally told me that this was going to be a big surprise for the students. When we approached, some of them saw me through the windows that opened out onto the open air hallway. Their looks of amazement truly stunned me. Sometimes I forget how unusual I look here. Sally introduced me as Miss Debbie and they all beamed and applauded. I first introduced myself and told them I was American and then asked if they could understand me. Only one girl said yes, but I could tell from their expressions that they could, so I continued as slowly as I could. I gave them my show-and-tell, telling about the similarities and then the differences that I had observed between the two countries. I pointed out on a map where we were and where I was from and got a soft, sustained 'whaaaa' from the group. I told them how it takes 16 hours nonstop in a jet and I knew their minds were reeling. Mouths fell open. I compared our Iowa weather to Beijing weather and how the town I live in is about the same size as their village. I talked about food similarities and differences and how Chinese food is the most popular foreign style food in the US. I showed them some US currency and American magazines. I explained how America is made up of people from all over the world, and that this was one of the things that made it a wonderful place to live. I talked about my impressions of the Chinese people. I told them I found the Chinese people to be very friendly, warm, and welcoming people. At this point I felt a wave of gratitude from these kids that just about knocked me over. Any more would have brought tears to my eyes. I had to stop speaking for a couple seconds. Then I added that I liked the Chinese very much and thought they were very good people. I have never seen so many attentive, clear kids in my life.

When I finished my presentation, Sally told them I would come back and meet with them on Friday. As she was speaking she accidentally referred to me as 'he'. In Mandarin, the official language of China, the word for 'he' or 'she' does not specify gender and to confuse this is a very common mistake that is made even by very good Chinese translators. I was impressed to notice that the class caught this mistake immediately. As Sally corrected herself, the kids giggled a bit at her mistake, looking from her to me, to see what my reaction would be.

Later a teacher asked me what I thought of the class. I commented that they were very focused and bright looking students. She said that in general, the classes were like that, but also I was the first foreigner many of them had ever seen and that they were very interested and curious. This was no surprise. When I asked the class if anyone had any questions, I could feel that they had a million, but were too shy to ask. I tried to encourage them by saying to please not be shy and that I was sure their English was much, much better than my Chinese. This brought big smiles and giggles from the group, but they were still too shy to ask anything. Finally one boy stood up and said he was very glad I came. I thanked him and told him I enjoyed it very much. As the teachers were escorting me out, I turned and waved and said good-bye in Mandarin and that totally broke the ice. If I had stayed I am sure the questions would have rolled in like a tidal wave.

When we got back to the conference room, 20 or so teachers were sitting around the table waiting for me. They all nodded and smiled greetings to me and then there was another round of applause. They asked me to speak a bit about myself. I basically gave them a more in-depth version of what I said to the kids and then asked if they had any questions. Again there was the same curious, but shy quality I had seen in the kids, but soon a few started a conversation. They were very interested in setting up communication with an American school or American students. They even expressed interest in an exchange of students. I said I thought it was a great idea, and that I would try to organize something when I returned home. We briefly touched on Chinese-American relations when one of the teachers commented that Bush had been in Shanghai. I commented that I had followed the visit on the news. He continued that the countries were coordinating efforts and I said I thought it was very good that we were thinking and working together. There was almost a nod in unison from most of the teachers. I felt like an American diplomat and felt a responsibility to speak in a very clear, conscious way. I have not experienced this to this degree before. It is a very interesting experience to be 'the' American. I did not feel pressure from them, but being the only American here, it can't be helped that many of their ideas about the US may be based on the responses I come up with. Oh dear...

They asked if I spoke any Chinese and I entertained them briefly with my rendition of Mandarin. We finally worked our way down to movie stars, who were my favorites, did I like to shop for clothing, things I don't really think about. I told them I designed and made much of my clothing. They asked me to bring some photos of my designs from home. Around this time a photographer came in and took many photos of me talking to the group. My guess is that I will be in the local paper. I just wanted to help with English language classes! They pursued the movie start thing more and Jackie Chan was mentioned and I said he was very popular in the US and that I liked him very much. They seemed surprised that he was popular. They asked if I liked Tom Cruise, I said I preferred Al Pucino, who they did not know. Several of the teachers wondered if I had seen other parts of China yet and I said that my husband had been so busy with work that unfortunately we hadn't had the time. They made suggestions as to what I should see and then Tracy said I should go ahead without him and take me with her. Then a man said no, I should take him with me. They asked if I liked Chinese music and I said I liked Chinese classical music very much. This met with good reception and then a man asked if I liked to dance. I said yes and told them how Tim and I go into Hong Kong to do folk dancing with a predominately Scottish and British group. He suggested that I dance with the people there. I found this an interesting thought. Finally I left and was escorted out to the hall. Both Sally and Tracy gave me their phone numbers and suggested we get together when I return and I agreed that it would be lovely. As Tracy and I walked to the car, she told me about the beads she was wearing as a bracelet and then gave them to me as a gift.

There are certain qualities that I have witnessed in the Chinese people that I admire very much and my experience at this school helped solidify many impressions. There is a certain elegant, graceful, simplicity towards life and others that runs deep in the culture. I saw this in the peasant/worker level of society and was charmed by it. But when I saw it in the highly educated and business levels of society, I was in total awe. Tim and I went to one of the two biggest trade shows in China last weekend. It had 17 miles of aisles and I have no idea how many manufacturers were represented. I cruised 6 floors of one building that was only Chinese fabric manufacturers. Large amounts of fabric usually have the effect of inspiring me, but this quantity was totally overwhelming. I met with different fabric and garment manufacturers to explore getting some of my designs reproduced. Obviously from my questions I was new at this. I obviously was also not going to be a big sale. Still, people sat and attentively answered all my questions and made suggestions as if I was the most important person in the world. There was no pressure from their side, and there was a simple, pleasant quality about them that was very genuine. All of the people I spoke with I felt I would like to know better, just as individuals. I felt their approach was the ultimate sales technique. Who wouldn't want to do business with people like this! I was very impressed and felt so grateful.

While wandering the show we saw the most westerners we have seen the entire time we have been here. People from all over the world, all with their trusty translator at their side just like us, although most of the Chinese I spoke with had a very good command of the English language. It was good to see all these 'big' people like us, but then I started to notice how most of the westerners looked very businesslike, slick, wore too much perfume and too much makeup. They 'looked' good and you could spot the 'designers' a mile away in their beautiful all black outfits. However, the more 'sophisticated' people looked by our contemporary ideas, the more unfriendly, unhappy, and unapproachable they felt. Their facial expressions were hard and unappealing. When I wasn't repelled by them I felt either embarrassed or sorry for them. But then I began to wonder how much I looked like they did -- minus the beautiful black outfit that is. I looked at the Chinese and then the westerners and I didn't know how I looked, but I felt like I was an outsider to both.

Now, I want to clarify that I know these qualities do not apply to all westerners. What I am relating to you has everything to do with my personal perceptions that relate to things I need to see and learn about in my life. I am NOT anti-western and am in fact all packed and ready to hop on that plane to come home as soon as they will let me on. As I live between these two cultures my life feels like an ongoing movie. You know how movies can seem so intense because they condense at least several days worth of life changing experiences into an hour and a half or so? That is how my life feels here. It seems like every place I go I get flooded with impressions. They are mind boggling, inspiring, and shake my world at its very core. Where it is all leading I do not know, but I do know that it is all good.

When I got home from the school yesterday, my head was jam packed with yet more new experiences and impressions. I looked at the clock and was amazed to see that my visit at the school had lasted only an hour. I felt like I had been there all day! Suddenly I flashed on my first day of kindergarten.

The day was sunny and beautiful. I remember as I walked up the sidewalk I felt so small and had butterflies in my stomach. What were we going to do all afternoon, what were the other kids going to be like, what was the teacher like? Then I noticed that the big wooden doors of Laurie Elementary School were painted the same shade of green as the green in my favorite dress that I had chosen for this big day. I immediately knew everything was going to be just fine. I turned and waved good-bye to my mom and went through the big doors. Sure enough, it was just fine. In fact it was great. So, I will go back on Friday for another visit, and maybe even help with English pronunciation! I am looking forward to it, whatever the visit ends up being. I know it will be amazing and...just fine. Probably even great.