Olympic Bartering Team

Fall 2001

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not Just Any Company Party

Winter 2000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Hong Kong

Winter 2000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Exclamations

Winter 2000

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

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

Lucky Money

February 2001

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chinese Rules Of The Road

February 2001

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

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

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

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

Winter In Southern China

January 2001

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

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