tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-238591022024-02-07T09:35:46.416-08:00Rosie in BJrosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-25905849607304335352015-10-03T07:40:00.001-07:002015-10-03T11:44:31.288-07:00A change in coversation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My parents know a man, let's call him Cal, who occasionally does some work for them. I've heard them talk about Cal here and there for years, but living overseas I never had the pleasure of meeting him, but I finally got the chance the other day. Our encounter was in some ways odd, at least for me, though I fear it may soon become the new normal.<br />
<br />
As I had heard of Cal, he had also heard much about me. He knew my history with the PRC, so right after shaking my hand, he started with The China Questions. Note: I am happy to answer questions about China. Don't be afraid to ask! Most people don't bother, so it's nice when someone shows a little interest. However, don't believe that saying, "There are no stupid questions." Trust me, there are. I've been asked all of them, at least twice. I'm sure I'm even guilty of asking them. And so are you. This small talk stupidity is human nature and not nation-specific either. Chinese people like to ask if I can use chopsticks and American people want to know if I eat a lot of rice. (The answers are "yes" and "yes.")<br />
<br />
Cal was no exception. His opener was the most common, but most dreaded request. He wanted a parlor trick.<br />
<br />
"Speak some Chinese!" he commanded.<br />
<br />
I. HATE. THIS. It is incredibly awkward. People get so excited to hear me speak Chinese, often asking me to curse at them. I then turn red, squeak out whatever pops into my head, and feel like a hooligan for telling someone I just met to go screw his mother. The worst part is, people always seem so let down after I do it. I don't know what they are expecting--entertainment? It's not juggling. Maybe the hope they'll magically understand Chinese? This isn't a fairy tale.<br />
<br />
After I finished cussing Cal out, my dad walked by, chiming in, "Ching chong chang ching." I think he was being facetious. I hope he was being facetious. <br />
<br />
"It really does sound like that, doesn't it?" Cal asked rhetorically.<br />
<br />
"No, it really doesn't," I told him.<br />
<br />
"They really hate us over there, don't they?" he continued.<br />
<br />
"No, they really don't," I replied. I began to explain Chinese attitudes towards the US and Americans, but Cal's eyes started to glaze over. I let my sentence taper off....<br />
<br />
"They know they, like, own us, right? That they're going to take over the world, right?" he cut-in enthusiastically.<br />
<br />
"I don't know about that,"I replied, already having realized that he wasn't interested in my assessment of Sino-US relations.<br />
<br />
The conversation veered into another direction and he told me about his Chinese roommate in college whom he believed to be a spy. It was actually a very convincing story and I was happy to let him do the talking. At that point, I just couldn't take anymore questions.<br />
<br />
Now that I'm in the US, the conversation has shifted. I have to grow accustom to a new set of questioning. <i>So what questions do you have for me?</i></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-8806961460580352992015-09-27T20:32:00.001-07:002015-09-27T20:32:27.162-07:00Check out my piece on China Daily<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OHARsM6vJ2RisKOt77-tmtdS9wB1J_o0rKd2S3RG1Gu7Q64KiL8gaRSs9KEjXWeCiIFXoaFTxbSTMbATMHvN_tbOru7cKiK1PPxgmjh67nJQ9qbFrTaPgQZlikWMNGID0_np/s1600/4F1A2042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_OHARsM6vJ2RisKOt77-tmtdS9wB1J_o0rKd2S3RG1Gu7Q64KiL8gaRSs9KEjXWeCiIFXoaFTxbSTMbATMHvN_tbOru7cKiK1PPxgmjh67nJQ9qbFrTaPgQZlikWMNGID0_np/s320/4F1A2042.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William, 100 days</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
China Daily recently asked me to write a post describing how I fell in love with a Chinese man and the challenges I have faced being in a cross-cultural relationship. I ended up writing about the struggles I've had raising a baby as an American living in China. You can check out the article on their website <a href="http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/opinion/2015-09/21/content_21937823.htm" target="_blank">here</a>. They are doing a series of opinion pieces on foreigners who fall in love with local Chinese. Jocelyn from <a href="http://www.speakingofchina.com/" target="_blank">Speaking of China</a> wrote a great piece recently as well, in which she reveals how she never expected to marry a Chinese man. You can find her piece <a href="http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/opinion/2015-09/19/content_21923453.htm" target="_blank">here</a>. <br />
<br />
<i>What is one of the biggest struggles you've had in a relationship? Were you able to overcome it? How?</i></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-65553867143633925832015-09-25T15:49:00.000-07:002015-09-25T18:55:59.170-07:00Crazy $hit that's happened to me in Asia: India edition<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreTHbwLlyRPh4TeIRFqxTPHcUfBUq8rIAtYE4OYHFsu3BbhrOIrcOopaer0lMZc0UiSBrGxH-Xk9JdS3QD-9DDohwqlDEF6Vrc6x9Jcf_-dI-Y4sgs3jSJjl96KsXiAs7lHJr/s1600/26612_768317329018_7705186_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreTHbwLlyRPh4TeIRFqxTPHcUfBUq8rIAtYE4OYHFsu3BbhrOIrcOopaer0lMZc0UiSBrGxH-Xk9JdS3QD-9DDohwqlDEF6Vrc6x9Jcf_-dI-Y4sgs3jSJjl96KsXiAs7lHJr/s320/26612_768317329018_7705186_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Mahabodhi Temple and bodhi tree</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>I've been busy lately, so here's another old post that dates back to my trip to India in 2010.</i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<br />
I recently read Aravind Adiga's novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/White-Tiger-Novel-Aravind-Adiga/dp/1416562605/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1443232488&sr=8-1&keywords=the+white+tiger" target="_blank"><i>The White Tiger</i></a>, a
fascinating story that exposes the corruption, violence, and struggle in
'The World's Largest Democracy" (India). Throughout the book, the
protagonist refers to a place called "The Darkness," often contrasting
it to his life in Delhi. But what is The Darkness? Is it a specific
place? A place full of poverty? I interpreted it as a reference to the
main character's home state of Bihar, one of India's poorest regions
that is severely impeded by corruption.<br />
<br />
I had the chance to
visit Bihar though notably to one of its cheerier, more peaceful parts, a
town called Bodhgaya. While this name may have little meaning to you,
to Buddhists it's a sort of Mecca. Bodhgaya is the place, nearly 2500
years ago, where Siddhārtha Gautama (Buddha) reached his enlightenment
under a bodhi tree next to a temple. A descendant of that tree still
exists today and though rebuilt a few times over, so does the temple.
Although not a Buddhist myself, living and having traveled through many
predominately Buddhist countries, I felt intrigued by Bodhgaya and was
determined to make a stop there on my way from <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2010/03/varanasi.html" target="_blank">Varanasi</a> to Kolkata. My
new traveling companion, Katalin, was interested in it too.<br />
<br />
After
two days of suffering from a variety of ailments that could not be
categorized into one or really even two specific illnesses, the time had
come to move on from Varanasi. Securing tickets from Varanasi to Gaya,
the nearest station to Bodhgaya, had proved tricky. Katalin and I were
left with two Sleeper Class tickets, bottom of the barrel as far as
Indian railway tickets are concerned. Furthermore, we no longer had Amy
and her height along as an intimidation factor, but I was confident we'd
be fine. I had, after all, requested for us to be seating in the 'Ladies
Carriage.'<br />
<br />
As we boarded the train, we realized our seats were
nowhere in the vicinity of the Ladies Carriage, if, in fact, there even
was one. The passengers in our carriage were overwhelmingly male, most
of them with that familiar gleam of curiosity and horniness in their
eyes. I had bigger issues than our fellow passengers to worry about,
however, as a sensation of nausea rolled over me. I wiped off a dirty,
dusty upper bunk and settled in for a nap while Katalin sat on a lower
bunk, chatting away to an elderly Austrian woman who had somehow been
seated by us.<br />
<br />
I had just overcome my urge to vomit and, in turn,
drift off into a much needed sleep, when I awoke to a burst of angry
shouting. I begrudgingly turned my body towards the source of this noise
and looked down to see a large, middle-aged man screaming in Katalin's
face. Simultaneously, I felt the need to puke. I crawled down from my
bunk and rushed to the toilet. When I returned a pair of brown
uniformed, beret-wearing, rifle-toting policemen had come to interrogate
the irrationally irate man. He was clearly not cooperating with them
and appeared to be intoxicated. The police led him towards the end of
our carriage, which happened to be the last car of the train. He was not
seen by us again; he very well could have gotten chucked off.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYeJOdaFetEkL1BVljLJpd-uH-Q7rNqFoLhF8sn2QnJFg2vDb4WV48NNUDK4nHdnGYWfieq7qkFB31Ji1ep0hyphenhyphenWJWdDh5H1fUvpq0cnpq1COvAjy2s0zqHw8ni38oBJZc_B7Pp/s1600/26612_768317334008_3342006_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYeJOdaFetEkL1BVljLJpd-uH-Q7rNqFoLhF8sn2QnJFg2vDb4WV48NNUDK4nHdnGYWfieq7qkFB31Ji1ep0hyphenhyphenWJWdDh5H1fUvpq0cnpq1COvAjy2s0zqHw8ni38oBJZc_B7Pp/s320/26612_768317334008_3342006_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Mahabodhi Temple offerings</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Night
had fallen and the policemen returned to sit by us. They, in addition
to the surrounding men, looked at us in an overtly sexual manner. I was
yet to be unnerved by the situation; Katalin was another matter. She had
her theories, which I won't delve into here, regarding what these men
had in store for us. This drunken incident, the impish looks, the
police--it had her shaken up. I refused to be shaken; that was until
the train came to a stop at the next station.<br />
<br />
It was a small,
single platform station that was nearly pitch dark. People were strewn
around, gathered by fires of burning garbage. Stray dogs paced among the
people. There was hardly a building or man made structure in sight. The
Darkness, this was it. I was scared. What was Gaya going to be like?
How small, dark, and unwelcoming could it be? And who might follow us
there?<br />
<br />
I tried to calm myself--my head was spinning in more
ways than one. I was sick and frightened; this had turned into the
longest train ride of my life and it was merely five hours. Every minute
became a bit of a struggle as I tried to avert my eyes from the stares
baring down on us while also trying to ignore the churning in my
stomach. The policemen left, which alleviated some of the paranoia.
Katalin and I tried to distracted ourselves by watching a movie on my
iPod. The train was running late. . . by half an hour. . . by an hour. .
. finally, at 10:40pm, nearly an hour and a half after our scheduled
arrival time, we stopped in Gaya.<br />
<br />
To my immense relief, it was a
bonafide city. The station consisted of several platforms and was a
flurry of activity. When we made it outside of the station, we were
happy to see lit streets full of the usual throngs of people, animals,
and vehicles--just like any other place we had visited in India. We
made our way, neither harassed or followed, to a nearby hotel to
check-in. Sometimes the imagination can be a dangerous thing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-nYhe9I7iMkmJXi9mTm6Nw5lwmmDevMvoo7rAuTtm1h3MPL9H4wD29GL0nGH4MnOJ6nImrbXY_Y4LqG2pcNQo0k7HHNeY1ngFqV5whVioq7VCLPaKNZPGkasmLyJlAfs3t60/s1600/26612_768317284108_2957742_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-nYhe9I7iMkmJXi9mTm6Nw5lwmmDevMvoo7rAuTtm1h3MPL9H4wD29GL0nGH4MnOJ6nImrbXY_Y4LqG2pcNQo0k7HHNeY1ngFqV5whVioq7VCLPaKNZPGkasmLyJlAfs3t60/s320/26612_768317284108_2957742_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">at the Taj Mahal, 2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-56279694088297323842015-09-16T06:24:00.000-07:002015-09-16T06:24:00.606-07:00From the archives: How Ming and I met<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4MUmTghfh8lCRiJXmLQ_LOh6X1Cs6e7-9fRPAN7ciFg4d-EOtRhUST3-B3PwxyXylmPr3mh-bPY0u6Jyj1ehYVf-3ZWCXNtWPBubgbN0Sz78lIbnjIipyggKQfm64vwaMO6Me/s1600/1910150_527664254708_6939_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4MUmTghfh8lCRiJXmLQ_LOh6X1Cs6e7-9fRPAN7ciFg4d-EOtRhUST3-B3PwxyXylmPr3mh-bPY0u6Jyj1ehYVf-3ZWCXNtWPBubgbN0Sz78lIbnjIipyggKQfm64vwaMO6Me/s320/1910150_527664254708_6939_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view of Shanghai Pudong from the Bund, Feb 2005</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>I'm leaving China today! I first arrived at the end of February 2005 with <a href="http://www.ciee.org/" target="_blank">CIEE</a>. I spent my initial week doing training (well, it was mostly sightseeing, but I got to practice my Chinese in the markets) in Shanghai before being sent off to Chengde. My first few months in China were the most memorable months of my life. I felt like I was living in a movie. China amazed me and for the first time in a long time I truly felt comfortable in my own skin. It was not long after I arrived that I met Ming, my future husband. I actually kept a diary at that time and posted some of my entries on this blog several years ago. I thought I'd revisit them in a post today. They are pretty embarrassing--I was pretty clueless and maybe kind of a jerk--but I guess that comes with being in your early 20's. Ten years later, it's interesting to look back on my younger self, as well as those days when I first fell in love with both Ming and China.</i><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiw_xWUMbfoav7fzzMmq0Y7EN4nJsDyWrI8hgs3U7caDtyaifh6A9ki4haHtgfnDquGcvWa9-R5y7jv3JZILvjtC9WfGLFMq-lv9Xmkw8DuDNu1ZaMtQ5sMqb5bVX2aDBx5kpV/s1600/1910150_527664070078_2453_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiw_xWUMbfoav7fzzMmq0Y7EN4nJsDyWrI8hgs3U7caDtyaifh6A9ki4haHtgfnDquGcvWa9-R5y7jv3JZILvjtC9WfGLFMq-lv9Xmkw8DuDNu1ZaMtQ5sMqb5bVX2aDBx5kpV/s320/1910150_527664070078_2453_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Liu Zhi, sweet girl who worked at the gym </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Tuesday, May 24, 2005</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">On Sunday night that guy at the gym (who always
attempts to talk to me in English) asked me to wait for him. Of course I
didn't because I had to go home and take a shower. Plus, what would we
do if we couldn't talk to each other?* But again tonight he pursued. It
is actually quite sweet because he gives English his best shot! He told
me that I am "a woman good" and that he likes me. Maybe I'll take him
out for a beer** with the other foreign teachers sometime. We'll see.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Don't answer that question.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">**Fun fact: Turns out Ming doesn't really drink alcohol.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Wednesday, June 1, 2005</b><br />The
last couple of days have been amazing. On Monday night my 'friend' was at
the gym and friendly as ever. When I finished working out I hung around
talking to him and the sweet girl who works there (not sure of her name,
but she can speak some English!). My friend went downstairs to shower
and I waited around for Nancy*** to finish. Coincidentally, we all ended up
leaving the gym at the same time. He, Tao Ming (I now know his name!),****
offered to give me a ride home on his bike. No, not bike as in moped or
motorcycle, but bike as in bicycle. Oh shit, I thought. . . I'm going to
hang off the back of this thing like all the Chinese girls do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />But,
luckily, we just walked. He stopped and bought me a yogurt drink (very
popular in China). When we got to my apartment I ran upstairs and
grabbed my Lonely Planet phrasebook to help along our conversating. We
talked for over an hour. He can read English and is picking it up rather
quickly. He asked me about my family and told me about his family and
told me he was happy because he was with me. Aww! Oh, and on the walk
home we saw some foreigners--which I called "laowai" (which means
'foreigner' but maybe is a little derogatory) and he laughed like crazy.
He corrected me, evidently "waiguoren" is a more politically correct
term.<br /><br />Anyways, as we were standing outside, about to say
good-bye, it began to rain. So we stood under the doorway of my
apartment and he gave me a kiss.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span> <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJcPsghDGEbdnhIwgw2FR-q98_KisBXm2bLlMt3SISntYuVgL01aENWgemSd3fKXsaoEXopEc7Ft_XntI0eYv8aT6q_8zTqUkXg11cSVDXDrM9hrIVehrWLOqkwdycfNK-z3m/s1600/1910150_527664124968_5738_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJcPsghDGEbdnhIwgw2FR-q98_KisBXm2bLlMt3SISntYuVgL01aENWgemSd3fKXsaoEXopEc7Ft_XntI0eYv8aT6q_8zTqUkXg11cSVDXDrM9hrIVehrWLOqkwdycfNK-z3m/s320/1910150_527664124968_5738_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yes, it's me (Chengde, 2005)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i></i><br />
<i></i>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>***</i>Nancy was the other foreign teacher at the school I worked at and we went to the gym together nightly.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">****Ha! No you don't, silly girl. Because his name is actually Zhao Ming! </span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">More from Wednesday, June 1, 2005</span></span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I finished yesterday morning's
lesson and guess who was standing outside the door? Tao Ming. He
managed to get in the school. I'm not sure how because usually the gate
keeper only lets teachers and students in the building. He took me to
lunch in a little restaurant by the old outdoor market. He asked me
what I wanted, "Chick?" [he asked]. I said chicken was fine. Rice and chicken,
after all, sounds safe enough, but in China you never know what you're
going to get.<br /><br />It ended up being every part of the chicken, cut up
and cooked in a sauce. I tried picking through it to find the meaty
parts (I have a slight aversion to skin and fat, veins and feet.***** Such
things don't seem to bother the Chinese). He scolded me for using my
hands--a big no-no here. So he picked through the chicken with his
chopsticks, finding the meat for me. He told me he would not be at the
gym that night because he had to work (he is a train conductor******). I went
off to school for my afternoon lessons, disappointed I wouldn't be
seeing him again in the evening.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_ynhbvyfaVdPAv-ACS1RdK9-HLxEmaWaerT7TuFcZjNJE_DjIk-dsZeY6R7jz59kVlS2Ei4ZOZBzcpLSGKgz53blnUocpEDzzPG0dR4e5Zr3XdYbnol1t6PpEWR4fvlVMMxj/s1600/1910150_527664095028_3969_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_ynhbvyfaVdPAv-ACS1RdK9-HLxEmaWaerT7TuFcZjNJE_DjIk-dsZeY6R7jz59kVlS2Ei4ZOZBzcpLSGKgz53blnUocpEDzzPG0dR4e5Zr3XdYbnol1t6PpEWR4fvlVMMxj/s320/1910150_527664095028_3969_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">one of my classes at Chengde No. 1 High School, 2005</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Shortly after I returned home
for the night, there was a knock at the door. . . he took off work to
spend the evening with me. He took me to KFC for more chicken. This
may sound like a pitiful first date, but KFC is fairly high class dining
in Chengde. Then we went to a movie; unfortunately it was in Chinese.
Ming went to talk to the manager and the movie was changed. It was
also Chinese, "God of Gamblers," but it had English subtitles. I found
it to be a typical Chinese film, somewhat crappy, but funny at parts and
violent at others. The theater was much different from an American
theater. We had our own little cubicle to sit in, very personal! After
the movie we walked home and he came up for a little bit.*******<br /><br />Today
he stopped by after lunch and brought me a bag of apples. He walked
Nancy and I to the bus. I'm not used to all this attention! Now I am
in Beijing. Nancy went off to Qingdao tonight and I am leaving for
Guilin tomorrow.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*****I was such a rookie back then. I can now eat a chicken down to the bone.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">******He was not and is not a train conductor, but his job does have something to do with trains so I guess. . . </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*******Seems like I left out the juciest parts. </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhDMUjMKifSK_9MkX9jbBvOqEhkBdIg9wZg64qORvOnLlWJyrc4bB_SPjK4Gno8uwOc6SiIMfQu65elg0Eqw_ZfkAKmbuPEzNxyfeNofE9ZEIj-Wz_zwmLwQBK5Y3p2eKZtRM/s1600/1909825_527665347518_7099_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhDMUjMKifSK_9MkX9jbBvOqEhkBdIg9wZg64qORvOnLlWJyrc4bB_SPjK4Gno8uwOc6SiIMfQu65elg0Eqw_ZfkAKmbuPEzNxyfeNofE9ZEIj-Wz_zwmLwQBK5Y3p2eKZtRM/s320/1909825_527665347518_7099_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ming and I, 2006</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-49288395969341537862015-09-11T00:05:00.000-07:002015-09-11T00:05:00.329-07:00Finding cheap flights to and around Asia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-7pviNIt_6AqZeTo6y7Zq3_4H1OX_UUWql9IC09giee-JhemQdzQpDu9kYDrnLWgz5EazhmkZ92tmkc8mkJvlBESat_-iMwmN1o1S9kRgY57Y3OiGLHfuU_lLulIBiAwB7wf/s1600/1909864_527666125958_1269_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-7pviNIt_6AqZeTo6y7Zq3_4H1OX_UUWql9IC09giee-JhemQdzQpDu9kYDrnLWgz5EazhmkZ92tmkc8mkJvlBESat_-iMwmN1o1S9kRgY57Y3OiGLHfuU_lLulIBiAwB7wf/s320/1909864_527666125958_1269_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Koh Tao, Thailand; my first trip to SEA, 2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I'm heading home in less than a week so perhaps it's fitting to write a post about flights. I've flown between the US and China once a year for the past 10 years. I've also taken a few trips by plane within China and many from China to Southeast Asia. I still wouldn't consider myself anywhere near an expert air traveler, but I still know something about it. Here are my tips for cheap flights:<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>1. Shop around</b><br />
If you have some time before your flight, spend a few minutes each day (I usually do it for a week or two) poking around sites like <a href="http://www.kayak.com/flights" target="_blank">kayak</a> or <a href="http://www.skyscanner.com/" target="_blank">skyscanner to</a> get an idea of prices, both around the time you plan to depart and maybe a month or so on either side. This will give you a generally idea of price trends on a variety of airlines. I have found that it's better not to book too far in advance for flights on regular carriers (budget carriers are different), unless it's a holiday. If you find a price you are pleased with, you might just want to book right away. Also, if you are flying one way you may also want to take a look at round trip prices as they are sometimes cheaper.<br />
<br />
Many websites also do price matching and Expedia will actually match the price you found and give you a US$50 hotel voucher to be used on their site if you found a cheaper flight somewhere other than their website. I did this once before successfully, but I had to call their customer service about which took about 10 minutes of my time. <br />
<br />
<b>2. Fly during the off-season</b><br />
I always visit the US from China in the winter, as it can cut the price of flights nearly in half. For many destinations, you are going to get a better deal if you fly in winter (or monsoon season). If you are okay with a little cold or rainy weather, this can save you a ton on flights, as well as hotels and admission prices.<br />
<br />
<b>3. Try out a new credit card</b><br />
If you are a US citizen and have decent credit, consider opening a credit card when you book your flight. I've gotten $75 off my flight when I've applied for an Expedia Citi card plus "reward points" which can be turned in for gifts such as money on Amazon.com! I've also gotten an American Airlines card which got me $50 off my flight plus one free checked bag on domestic flights and preferred boarding. Be careful with airline credit cards though as they usually have an annual fee. It is often waived the first year so if you cancel the card<b> </b>before the one year mark you can use it without paying the fee (usually US$100). Another great card is the Chase Freedom card which offers between 1-5% cash back and periodically does $200 off your first $500 of purchases (made within 90 days, but that's easy if you are buying a long haul flight!). <br />
<br />
<b>4. Use local websites</b><br />
I haven't booked that many domestic flights in China as I actually really enjoy traveling by train. When I have taken flights, I've usually turned to Chinese websites that offer deals that aren't found on sites like kayak. There is an option for English on these sites which is great if you are unable to read Chinese. The ones I've used in the past are <a href="http://elong.net/" target="_blank">elong</a> and <a href="http://english.ctrip.com/" target="_blank">ctrip</a>. Another popular one that I haven't used is <a href="http://www.qua.com/" target="_blank">qunar</a>. Thanks to these sites, I've gotten some deep discounts on flights that I've booked just days before departure. You can also search for deals on international flights as well as hotels.<br />
<br />
<b>5. Try budget airlines</b><br />
I love, love, LOVE budget airlines (though <a href="https://www.spirit.com/" target="_blank">S</a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" target="_blank">pirit Airlines</a> may be an exception). You have to keep your expectations in check, but you can really find some amazing deals, especially if you book in advance! My absolute favorite budget airline is <a href="http://www.airasia.com/" target="_blank">AirAsia</a>, which I've flown about two dozen times. They are based in Malaysia so they serve Southeast Asia very well and they offer direct flights from a number of points in China to Kuala Lumpur (also known as KL, which is Malaysia's capital) as well as a few other destinations. If you are going to be living in Asia, do yourself a favor and get on their email list. They have incredible sales and if you have the flexibility to book your vacation far in advance, you can book tickets for next to nothing. I was able to get a round trip ticket from Beijing to KL for just over US$100, a flight that normally costs about $400. I also got a ticket from Yogyakarta, Indonesia to Singapore for 13 bucks!<br />
<br />
<b>6. Hidden city </b><br />
<a href="http://www.foxnews.com/travel/2014/11/24/what-airlines-dont-want-to-know-about-hidden-city-ticketing/" target="_blank">Hidden city</a> seems to be the new thing in cheap air travel, though I have a feeling it might be on the way out. If you are unfamiliar with the concept of hidden city, it uses algorithms to help you find a cheap ticket by using your destination as a stopover. For example, if you are flying from Chicago to Atlanta, hidden city websites such as <a href="https://skiplagged.com/" target="_blank">skipplagged</a> will try to find you a cheaper flight that has Atlanta has a stopover rather than the final destination. I've had friends who have used such sites successfully, but most airlines are not taking too kindly to people trying to beat the system. In fact, skipplagged is being sued by United Airlines for the practice.<b> </b><br />
<br />
One thing I haven't utilized is <b>frequent flier miles</b>. I fly so many different airlines and the thought of keeping track of them all seemed overwhelming.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Do you have any helpful tips for scoring cheap flights or good travel deals?</i></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-12466884387652745722015-09-05T07:17:00.000-07:002015-09-06T14:00:35.134-07:00Ode to a Chinese Taxi Driver<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Today, like many days, I took a taxi. My driver was special in ways that only one who has lived in China awhile can appreciate. He had a mole on his cheek, out of which sprouted several long hairs, which he sported with pride. Stay hairs are auspicious to Chinese men (I know, Ming will never let me pluck one of his). I think my driver had food stuck in his teeth while also suffering from a head cold. He alternated between making odd sucking noises and hacking out the window. It made me realize that in my list of <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2015/08/china-what-ill-miss-about-you.html" target="_blank">Things I'll Miss about China</a>, I had left something out. I forgot to mention my adoration for China's taxis and their
drivers. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdBxqXOy-siiaUvafAwOFby_ixxMDfFszqjDoUmp6Pt88oaaS21rc259-8HHaIV0-_gQ69KB-nzQnkVfeXCR_kt7Nk-a0ic3k-04kyGAwIBks0NSQ-VV-BxfCncwejgysM1KK/s1600/u%253D2764084939%252C1346346349%2526fm%253D21%2526gp%253D0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdBxqXOy-siiaUvafAwOFby_ixxMDfFszqjDoUmp6Pt88oaaS21rc259-8HHaIV0-_gQ69KB-nzQnkVfeXCR_kt7Nk-a0ic3k-04kyGAwIBks0NSQ-VV-BxfCncwejgysM1KK/s320/u%253D2764084939%252C1346346349%2526fm%253D21%2526gp%253D0.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beijing taxis, photo via <a href="http://image.baidu.com/search/redirect?tn=redirect&word=j&juid=EA783C&sign=ciicizegew&url=http%3A%2F%2Flc.cf8.com.cn%2Fnews%2F20120502%2F40045.shtml&objurl=http%3A%2F%2Fimg.cf8.com.cn%2Fuploadfile%2F2012%2F0502%2F20120502045156372.jpg" target="_blank" title="http://lc.cf8.com.cn/news/20120502/40045.shtml">lc.cf8.com.cn</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When asked if taxis are safe in China,
I answer “yes” without a second's hesitation. Of course, there
are times to be weary of them, especially if you know nothing of the
country or the language. There are certainly unscrupulous drivers out
there, who hatch schemes in hopes of earning a few extra renminbi. In
the event that you become a victim of such a plot, try not to panic.
It may seem though your driver is taking you out into the middle of
nowhere to leave you for dead, but he is, in all likelihood, just
taking the scenic route home in an attempt to run-up the meter.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In ten years, I have probably taken
hundreds of Chinese taxis, licensed and (occasionally) unlicensed,
both alone and with others. The one time I got taken advantage of, I
was with my husband. Once we called the driver out on his
shenanigans, he quickly became apologetic and lowered the fare.
Though at times on alert for being overcharged, I've never felt
threatened by a driver. In fact, taking a taxi—if you can catch one—is
usually a pleasant experience. The drivers are generally jovial and
curious, the perfect traits for those who want to practice their
Chinese. I've found that you can learn a lot from local cabbies,
depending on how you'd like to expand your Chinese vocabulary. I've
learned how to curse out every Zhou (Joe) from here to Shanghai
simply by spending a few rides stuck in Beijing's rush hour traffic.
My salute to you, Beijing cabbies, for teaching me words that would
make even your weird, perverted uncle blush.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In additional to being a learning
experience, taking a taxi is very economical, at least by western
standards. In Chengde, a typical ride costs between 6-10 RMB
(US$1-1.50). In the US, you'd probably have to tip a driver more than
that. You don't have to tip Chinese drivers, though sometimes you may
have to bribe them to pick you up. Would you expect anything less in
the Middle Kingdom? In Chengde, there is an ample fleet of cabs, so
passengers still hold the upper hand. The situation in Beijing,
however, is problematic for potential passengers. Due to lack of
taxis, tech-savvy Beijingers have turned to apps such as <a href="http://techcrunch.com/2014/12/09/didi-dache-700-million/" target="_blank">Didi Dache</a> to help
them grab a cab. Use your smart phone to alert all taxis on the
network where you need a pick-up—sounds convenient right? No
more standing on the side of the road desperately waving your hand at
every approaching car, squinting to see if the vehicle is a taxi and
if so, if the stupid “unoccupied” light is on. Sure, you can
avoid that indignity. But there's there's a price to pay for that luxury. If you are in serious need of a ride, you better be willing
to add cash (call it a tip, but it's really a bribe) to the fare. You can start by adding 10 RMB ($1.50) and
try your luck. If it's rush hour, plan on adding 20 RMB or more. My
friend told me that many Beijing taxi drivers have conspired to avoid
5-star hotels unless the passenger offers 50 RMB on top of the fare.
Those sneaky little buggers. But even with a pick-up bribe, Beijing
taxis are affordable compared to the US. On a recent journey, I spent
56 RMB on a 30 minute ride (36 RMB fare + 20 RMB bribe) during Beijing
rush hour. That's less than US$10. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So yes, I will miss the built-in language tutor
plus the convenience that comes with taking a cab in China. But as my
husband reminded me, in the US I'll have my own car. I suppose that
will be pretty nice, too.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>What type of transportation do you
typically use where you live? Do you rely on other types of
transportation when on vacation or while abroad?</i></div>
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-46485868976318102652015-08-27T20:43:00.000-07:002015-09-25T19:01:19.408-07:00No burping or farting in the store!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFlsSW3dEAwCpxibyFwOJFHEeHL1ZHNN7H8sTcTiyv611CjsiiU-1fDJQESEWWDCNom6U1SjF4o1xK_rVe2G6uc9VHF4tCwGyyUdQy_uD6ahTeHtDwytpBwGgMUyD-2ChxGZU/s1600/316627_10100751426202747_394596684_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFlsSW3dEAwCpxibyFwOJFHEeHL1ZHNN7H8sTcTiyv611CjsiiU-1fDJQESEWWDCNom6U1SjF4o1xK_rVe2G6uc9VHF4tCwGyyUdQy_uD6ahTeHtDwytpBwGgMUyD-2ChxGZU/s320/316627_10100751426202747_394596684_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tourists at the Forbidden City, photo by Kim W</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One thing I've noticed during the ten years I've lived in China, Chinese people love to travel. As the economy has grown, allowing more and more people have disposable income, the number of Chinese travelers has risen markedly. Domestic tourism is a huge industry in China, and I find that the Chinese tourist industry does a lot to cater to their countrymen, while surrounding countries go out of their way to cater to foreign travelers. Catering to foreign tourists usually means have English signage, English-speaking tour guides, and pizza on the menu. But in many places, that's changing. More and more countries are implementing tactics to attract Chinese travelers and their money. Hot drinking water, free tea, noodles for breakfast, and luxury shopping excursions along with Chinese-language menus and signs, it's all becoming the new standard in many travel hot spots.<br />
<br />
But how do people feel about this new influx of Chinese tourists? The feelings seemed to be mixed. Some welcome them with open arms, as they appreciate the money Chinese tourists spend while on holiday. Others are annoyed, unable or unwilling to understand Chinese habits. I can speak to this firsthand, as I'm often mistaken as a Chinese tourist due to my last name. When I check-in to my accommodation, I am often met with interesting comments. One time, in Indonesia, I arrived at my guesthouse and the owner looked at me.<br />
<br />
"Your name's Zhao, but your not Chinese?" she puzzled.<br />
<br />
"No, I'm not, but my husband is," I explained.<br />
<br />
"Well, I'm glad <i>you're</i> not. Those Chinese, they make such a mess, and sometimes they even bring rice cookers and use them in their rooms," she lamented.<br />
<br />
I was a bit offended on behalf of all Chinese, not to mention <i>I had just told her that my husband was Chinese.</i> I realize there was some truth to what she said, after having run a hostel myself, I know that Chinese people generally leave a room messier than guests from many other countries. But I felt torn. How much do we expect foreign guests and tourists to bend to our standard when visiting our city or country? And how much should we cater to them as they spend their hard-earned cash and help fuel our local tourist industry and economy?<br />
<br />
I was discussing this with one of my Chinese friends recently. She lives in Germany, so she is used to seeing the world from two different perspective's--as a person who grew up in China, but has spent much of her adult life in the west. I told her about a picture that I saw posted on WeChat. It was taken at a German shop and listed a number of rules, clearly directed at Chinese visitors. I've translated it into English below:<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5eXM-6P1DNIq8lmJPQz5Q3CPl-TaGmMtHHywdZLYzFTftKo7IfPLSrU8Cx_jETL33WWZEfc4ZkTFW3HX-0jQ0h8jjOQL70UZWkn_3qowPmT5vUvCtrlf9ySn7YjDUdaNozx02/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5eXM-6P1DNIq8lmJPQz5Q3CPl-TaGmMtHHywdZLYzFTftKo7IfPLSrU8Cx_jETL33WWZEfc4ZkTFW3HX-0jQ0h8jjOQL70UZWkn_3qowPmT5vUvCtrlf9ySn7YjDUdaNozx02/s320/photo.JPG" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">list of rules for Chinese tourists</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Please don't eat or drink in the store!</b><br />
<b>The store is not a rest stop!</b><br />
<b>Please don't clip your nails in the store!</b><br />
<b>Please don't use toothpicks in the store!</b><br />
<b>Please don't spit in the store!</b><br />
<b>We politely refuse to haggle, but you can have receipt for duty free!</b><br />
<b>Please don't talk loudly, in order to avoid disrupting other customers shopping.</b><br />
<b>Please, no burping or farting in the store!</b><br />
<br />
We both agreed that this was over-the-top and a tad offensive. I can understand asking customers not to eat and drink in the shop and I think posting a sign not to spit is, unfortunately, still a needed reminder for many older Chinese tourists. But I so rarely see Chinese people using toothpicks (especially outside of a restaurant) or hear them letting one rip in public (elderly men excluded), I don't think it needs saying. If I were Chinese and saw such a sign, I think I would kindly move on to the next shop.<br />
<br />
<i>What do you think? Do you try to adapt your habits to local culture when on vacation? Do you think we should afford some leeway to how foreign guests act when they visit our country?</i><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-23241624027358255902015-08-24T15:19:00.000-07:002015-08-24T15:22:01.741-07:00China: What I'll miss about you<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As of last week the date is set and flight is booked, the flight that will take me back to the US. . . permanently. The reality of the situation hasn't fully hit me yet. In truth, I've been desperate to move back to my home country for awhile, since William was born or perhaps even before. It's hard to remember exactly. <br />
<br />
I know returning will be challenging. <a href="https://xiananigans.wordpress.com/2014/08/20/moving-back-from-abroad/" target="_blank">I've read blogs about it</a>. I've had friends who have done it, who shared their stories of reverse culture shock, their struggles to reestablish themselves in a place that is familiar yet. . . yet not. After being away for awhile, the place you once knew so well, the place you may have called home most of your life, seems a bit foreign.<br />
<br />
With the exception of my time in college, my entire adult life has been spent in China. Ten years. And now it's quickly coming to a close and I don't know how to feel about it. I want to enjoy my last weeks here, while at the same time just wanting them to be over with. I am ready, so ready, to move on with my life. But I know I will one day, perhaps one day very soon, I will miss China. <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/08/to-stay-or-go.html" target="_blank">I once wrote a post detailing the reasons I want to leave,</a> but today I will write about what I will miss, reasons that I may have liked to stay.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqH0Q3VBpB2oH36VMO3mB9lYGNNJ07VyjS3B115fNFUG2I6sadF53pld-LZlvZrbnbfnBEWlctj334kU8hj-lRXcsZ2gRXQB6FzI1bihLdpCyY0vlfbS6tf8YL03PIH8TgKAf/s1600/1928329_549143974178_1055_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqH0Q3VBpB2oH36VMO3mB9lYGNNJ07VyjS3B115fNFUG2I6sadF53pld-LZlvZrbnbfnBEWlctj334kU8hj-lRXcsZ2gRXQB6FzI1bihLdpCyY0vlfbS6tf8YL03PIH8TgKAf/s320/1928329_549143974178_1055_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">always something going on on the sidewalk</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>1. The hustle and bustle (or what is known in Chinese as r</b><b>ènào) </b><br />
Chinese people love rènào and many of those who come to settle in the US lament on how quite and empty it can be. Even when I visit downtown Chicago, I am taken aback by how little is going on during the (work)day. Sometimes I struggle with crowds and noise that comes with living in China, but I think I've come to appreciate it in some ways. <br />
<br />
<b>2. Attitudes toward cross-race marriage and biracial children</b><br />
Compared to many countries, China is incredibly accepting of mixed race couples and children. That's not to say some people don't take issue with it, especially when it occurs withing their own family, but I think Chinese society as a whole is more open to it than Americans. Thanks to our little "mixed blood" ("hùnxuě" as biracial people are usually called in Chinese), we face a constant barrage of admirers whenever we are out and about. While it can be overwhelming, it is also sweet that people take a positive interest in our cross-culturally family. P.S. Check out <a href="http://rubyronin.com/being-half-asian-in-china-and-japan/" target="_blank">Ruby Ronin</a>, who writes an enlightening post about her experiences as a biracial woman living in both Japan and China. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZGM_hXt2xadDI09A5NZvMM6eeRESEShw8FMLi29gx9DDxCRfQK29-ENeHyEgrDbAkafxnjKOK-nFfb98apmrtU3xG_9Vgns4li9CgOCu_kNdn-FtxAnLWfP9X7kyezWeTJrh/s1600/P1080835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZGM_hXt2xadDI09A5NZvMM6eeRESEShw8FMLi29gx9DDxCRfQK29-ENeHyEgrDbAkafxnjKOK-nFfb98apmrtU3xG_9Vgns4li9CgOCu_kNdn-FtxAnLWfP9X7kyezWeTJrh/s320/P1080835.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">local small business</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>3. Endless possibility</b><br />
If you are business-minded (I'm not, though getting better), China is ripe with opportunity. This is the place where rags to riches stories happen, where a good idea or the right connections can turn you into a millionaire overnight. With the rise of the Chinese middle class, there's also a market for many items and services that could only cater to a niche market a decade ago. In Chengde, western-style cafes and photography studios are popping up everywhere. Locals are taking an interest in foreign foods. Everyone with even the smallest amount of disposable income is planning a vacation. If you have an entrepreneurial spirit, this is the place to be. I may have tapped into that side of my personality a little late, but perhaps there could still be another business venture in my future....<br />
<br />
<b>4. Language</b><br />
While I sometimes missing the ease of being surrounded by my native tongue, I have totally fallen in love with Mandarin. Sometimes while looking walking home, I look around and marvel at all the Chinese characters that surround me--a system of writing that once seemed so exotic, so impossible to learn. The fact that I can now read it still surprises me. I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would study Chinese. I don't know if I could have ever succeeded without being totally immersed in the language and I don't know how I will continue (my life long goal of fluency) being away from it.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8eoLfCdbCGTJPaN8eO_HR6Ek99lGIbsjj76CtM1arTJEJK01jvnA_n982sT393YeaIQdTWh0aYcP77VC8CJYoeCEgiGEpYo46cHV2iR0CU0uRUB2QHWoM-f5zP4andSaQ-Dtw/s1600/P1080319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8eoLfCdbCGTJPaN8eO_HR6Ek99lGIbsjj76CtM1arTJEJK01jvnA_n982sT393YeaIQdTWh0aYcP77VC8CJYoeCEgiGEpYo46cHV2iR0CU0uRUB2QHWoM-f5zP4andSaQ-Dtw/s320/P1080319.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jiuzhaigou, China 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>5. Travel</b><br />
Of course, my love of travel is what brought me to China in the first place. For those who love adventure, Asia is a great place to be. It's diverse and generally very affordable. I am sad that I may never again visit southeast Asia and disappointed that I never made it to Nepal or Korea. But I did make it to many other wonderful places. Some of my favorites include my fist solo trip within China, to Guilin and Yangshuo in 2005. I also (in hindsight) loved <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2010/03/from-darkness-to-light.html" target="_blank">the very intense trip I took to India</a> in 2010 and <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2015/07/crazy-ht-thats-happened-to-me-in-asia.html" target="_blank">my crazy adventures in Sumatra</a> a few years ago. Next frontier? North (and one day South) America. This fall I am planning to visit friends in Texas and New Jersey. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<b>6. Safety</b><br />
Safety means different things to different people. The kind of safety I'm talking about is the ability to walk down the street alone after dusk as a woman. I have that in China. While the ability to cross the street without the fear of getting rundown by an Audi still alludes me, I've long come to terms that I may meet my maker under the wheels of a speeding Chinese motorist. With only three weeks in China left, it seems I may make it out of the country unscathed. Fingers crossed. <br />
<br />
<b>7. Food</b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIep2Px5ZktmmsgsPl6TJsYhluxWEwz-_4znkzjmUSS3M3h5s2aD_uUOiwGRBGaDAEOMtGJQDSjAipL8d82rDhjDBFnBd8TByu7JJsszVI3ZIxIRHep2dcQM5Hba6WnGLzywK/s1600/1923393_548497629458_7628_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIep2Px5ZktmmsgsPl6TJsYhluxWEwz-_4znkzjmUSS3M3h5s2aD_uUOiwGRBGaDAEOMtGJQDSjAipL8d82rDhjDBFnBd8TByu7JJsszVI3ZIxIRHep2dcQM5Hba6WnGLzywK/s320/1923393_548497629458_7628_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my m-i-l making dumplings</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Chinese people are incredibly proud of their cuisine and tout it as the most diverse in the world. Let me let you in on a little secret: Chinese food is actually not my favorite. While American food holds a lackluster reputation internationally, I swear we are not all Big Macs and hot dogs. You can find a variety of cuisines pretty much anywhere in the US and in larger cities, your options are endless and often very authentic. Unfortunately, I've had pretty crappy luck finding decent Chinese restaurants in my hometown and even the good one (tipping my hat to you <a href="http://www.emperorofchinarestaurant.com/" target="_blank">Emperor of China)</a> is nothing like what we'd eat in China. I'll miss <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zongzi" target="_blank">zongzi</a> and Peking duck. I'll crave <a href="http://appetiteforchina.com/recipes/sichuan-boiled-beef-fiery-sauce" target="_blank">shuǐ zhǔ ròupiàn</a> real kungpao chicken. But at least both my husband and I are able to cook many popular Chinese dishes and my mother-in-law makes excellent dumplings.<br />
<br />
<i>Have you ever missed the things you left behind when moving from one place to another? How did you cope?</i><br />
<br />
<br />
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-42439116443600788742015-08-16T16:47:00.000-07:002015-08-16T16:47:02.310-07:00My Interview on the Love Blender<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusjV6se__uAlAtIaQPb1iVyUmhwwgmgstiDpku-HD0n9NCWPXm2CX34vEU5a7XOZjxmriMLi3ilf93geD64L-kGyoZElAGuMtD9V5q2w_hbmsik-U01XR_dLdDR_OaMuIWDwK/s1600/P1080842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusjV6se__uAlAtIaQPb1iVyUmhwwgmgstiDpku-HD0n9NCWPXm2CX34vEU5a7XOZjxmriMLi3ilf93geD64L-kGyoZElAGuMtD9V5q2w_hbmsik-U01XR_dLdDR_OaMuIWDwK/s320/P1080842.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chengde, 2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I follow several blogs, most of them by women who live and date in Asia. One of my favorites is <a href="http://www.theloveblender.com/" target="_blank">The Love Blender</a> which is written by an Italian woman, Marghini, who is an interior designer (and it shows, her blog is very pleasing to the eye!) who has lived as an expat in a number of country. Marghini's blog chronicles her life and experiences abroad, as well as dating cross-culturally. Recently, she is featuring a series on expat women and asked me to partake in an interview. You can check it out <a href="http://www.theloveblender.com/expat-girls-series-rosie-an-american-mom-in-china/" target="_blank">here</a>!<br />
<br />
<i>Do you follow many blogs? Which one is your favorite?</i> <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-7285217425355613192015-08-13T23:28:00.000-07:002015-08-13T23:28:00.060-07:00Crazy $h!t that's Happened to me in Asia: Vietnam edition<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>I was looking through my Facebook profile and found some old "notes" (a now defunct feature on the site). This is one such note that made it on Facebook and never on my blog. It dates back to June 2008 and details yet another crazy incident that I experienced while traveling in Asia. I'm not sure if this one is more terrifying or less terrifying than <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2015/07/crazy-ht-thats-happened-to-me-in-asia.html" target="_blank">being taking hostage by an orangutan</a>. I'll let you decide!</i></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfPNg7tLTNTf4ty2T77Jj1yKflMI_ciLgJDjn1-0niR1iKauaIgibxwv4DfwwX6rENzL6DxYAmJMdedpWDO3FZcWGfCRkNfHoo3NxX2cPaBaQkkZGe6QvpZZZe_RwnlVh_4MQg/s1600/10399275_574910283288_7641_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfPNg7tLTNTf4ty2T77Jj1yKflMI_ciLgJDjn1-0niR1iKauaIgibxwv4DfwwX6rENzL6DxYAmJMdedpWDO3FZcWGfCRkNfHoo3NxX2cPaBaQkkZGe6QvpZZZe_RwnlVh_4MQg/s320/10399275_574910283288_7641_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ho Chi Minh Statue, downtown Saigon, 2008</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In Vietnam, they have this sweet little deal offered by most traveler
cafes--the open bus ticket. With this ticket, for a mere US$27, you can
get from Saigon in the far south all the way to Hanoi in the far north.
In other words, you can travel from Vietnam's bottom to top (or top to
bottom, if you prefer), which consists of some 1300 miles. You are also
allowed to make stops in cities along the way. This is a fantastic
price, but it leaves you at the mercy of the travel cafe and what bus
they put you on.<br /><br />All the way to Hue, my second to last stop, I'd
been lucky. All my buses had been comfortable sleeper buses with
working air-con. When I went to confirm my departure for Hanoi (my
final destination) at the travel cafe in Hue, the agent tried to bully
me into upgrading to a sleeper bus. My ticket was only for a sitting
bus. This had happened to me once before. I had declined the sleeper
bus, not wanting to shell out an extra five bucks for it. Turned out,
they still put me on the sleeper bus. I was wise on their tricks. . . I
would stick to my sitting bus ticket and wait for my (free) upgrade. <br /><br />I was told to come back at 5:30 pm
the next day and my bus would pick me up at the cafe. When that time
rolled around I was feeling pretty confident, just waiting for my big,
flashy sleeper bus to pull up. Instead a decrepit looking sitting bus
came. <br /><br />"You go Hanoi? Sitting bus? Here!" The agent motioned to me. <br /><br />I
looked around at the other foreigners waiting in the cafe. None of
them moved. I was the only idiot who hadn't upgraded. Ah, well.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYs3MjI1v0mQb6O8n8QRz66-x1XqujgL7A9Ohad_H3gadAoVm3cdljfnolWvoSmZDH3RtaFhoxU__HGate-ctl-70MTl2EM2WzqL4YhyphenhyphenFyZ0DWx3CVtLTW9_S1ODpzUuvnvFy8/s1600/10399275_577073942298_4832_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYs3MjI1v0mQb6O8n8QRz66-x1XqujgL7A9Ohad_H3gadAoVm3cdljfnolWvoSmZDH3RtaFhoxU__HGate-ctl-70MTl2EM2WzqL4YhyphenhyphenFyZ0DWx3CVtLTW9_S1ODpzUuvnvFy8/s320/10399275_577073942298_4832_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Minh Mang Tomb, near Hue, 2008</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I
boarded the bus, which was air-conditioned. So far, so good. It was
already about a third full, but I found a window seat near the back.
Window seats are essential. Great for their scenery and their head
support. If luck was somehow on my side, the bus wouldn't fill and I'd
get two seats to myself. Luck was not on my side though. Surely you
could have guessed that much by now. A young Vietnamese woman and her
small child ended up sitting next to me. They even gave people little
plastic chairs to sit in the aisle. The bus was well past capacity.<br /><br />By
7pm it was dark and I could no longer enjoy gazing out the window.
I listened to my iPod while the young Vietnamese woman rested her head
on my shoulder and her little boys legs sprawled across my lap.
Personal space. . . not important. I finally drifted off to sleep
sometime after ten.<br /><br />I was awoken, quite suddenly by screams.
Everyone on the bus was screaming and our bus was suddenly on a 40
degree angle. <i>Oh my God, I am going to die. I am going to die with a
Vietnamese woman and her son.</i> I hugged them. <i> The bus is going to roll
over and explode. I am going to die alone in Vietnam. This cannot be
happening.</i> With my impeding death predicted, the bus came to a
stop--though still at a precarious angle. I was scared to look out the
window. Perhaps we were hanging off a cliff. I was at the back of the
bus; I'd never make it out before we plunged to our death. I looked
out the window. A field. Never have I felt such relief. We were only in a ditch,
not dangling over a ledge. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTrY6n5hpOFp7sgzUoiq95U6JdiVrHqcn9ONBa_c4iIMMjN4qRdyAgP_yVXVFNf1w8QG4YCojkkmY-LVKTWj4_Hc7jgb862lMnCFOcg55GR8PnoTQ30HhMWz-d3bkwzR38lo2/s1600/10399275_577073922338_3552_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTrY6n5hpOFp7sgzUoiq95U6JdiVrHqcn9ONBa_c4iIMMjN4qRdyAgP_yVXVFNf1w8QG4YCojkkmY-LVKTWj4_Hc7jgb862lMnCFOcg55GR8PnoTQ30HhMWz-d3bkwzR38lo2/s320/10399275_577073922338_3552_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">me at the Citadel, Hue, 2008</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I waited for the bus to unload a
bit and finally made my way to the front, shaking. The entire
windshield was cracked. Did we hit someone? I was really in no mood to
see the bloody corpse of a motorbike driver. I turned to exit and
found the entire door and steps leading out were mangled. I managed to
step through the debris and got out. I surveyed the damage. The bus
had managed to go over the guardrail, into the ditch, and then came to
the stop with the help of the electric pole we hit. The front tires
were now gone, as well as much of the paneling from the side of the bus.
What had happened?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Well, there was no one to ask. I was the
only foreigner on the bus; the rest of the passengers were Vietnamese. Vietnamese who
couldn't speak English. I had to come to my own conclusion on the
matter--my guess is that the driver fell asleep.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Now there was the
matter of getting my bag and getting to Hanoi. I motioned frantically
to people standing around. "I need my bag, it's under the bus!" I
pantomimed. People just shook their heads. No, No, No. I had to get
my bag. Everything was in my bag. Most of my money (what was I thinking?) and all my clothes.
Do you realize how difficult for a girl my size, or anyone over a size
2, to find clothes that fit in Asia? My clothes are nearly priceless! I would
not leave the side of the bus until I got my bag. I would camp out all
night in rural Vietnam if I had to. I was getting that bag! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdFnZilvlrVgPevxh_hgGYqVWVjeiBUOKCVvltviF9R03pAJmDi0hnasDXI8CMz4OzYkO6nrnhIjEAP9nrwn6Ys-zqBTyvCxWtydGSvpg8CxG8hOH5cJtOhqmrhyphenhyphenXSdvED9Qm/s1600/10399275_577073857468_9828_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdFnZilvlrVgPevxh_hgGYqVWVjeiBUOKCVvltviF9R03pAJmDi0hnasDXI8CMz4OzYkO6nrnhIjEAP9nrwn6Ys-zqBTyvCxWtydGSvpg8CxG8hOH5cJtOhqmrhyphenhyphenXSdvED9Qm/s320/10399275_577073857468_9828_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">lantern kiosk, Hoian, 2008</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I
was nearly in tears. But crying in public is incredibly faux pas in
Asia. I had to keep it together. I would ask one more time about my
bag. I tugged on the sleeve of one man and did my pantomime. I
pretending to be carrying a heavy backpack and then frantically pointed
to the side of the bus, where the luggage was stowed. The man motioned
for me to go to the other side of the bus. I went around to find them
unloaded everyone's stuff. Everything was going to be okay! I was
going to get my fat-girl clothes. I would get all my money! All the
little presents I'd bought people, they would be mine again. I
wouldn't have to camp out next to the bus in the middle of nowhere.
Life was good!<br /><br />I saw that a few buses had stopped
for us further up the road. They were taking on what passengers they
could fit, although most of them were at or over capacity themselves.
There must have been nearly 70 of us waiting for a ride. But a Vietnamese
man waved me over to the first bus. It was a sleeper bus full of Vietnamese. There were no beds left on the sleeper bus, but no
worries, plenty of floor space. I went to lay down on the floor and
spent the next 8 hours trying to sleep. <br /><br />Sleep did not happen.
Every bump we hit sent me into a panic. We are going off the road! We
are plunging to our deaths! There are way too many bumps in Vietnam.
But we did, of course, make it to Hanoi alive. Fourteen and a half
hours after leaving Hue we made it. I went to my hotel as quickly as
possible. I needed the comfort of a real, stationary bed. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Have you ever taken a long bus ride? What was it like?</i></span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYgGRTN0MiyUtaQ-0Bf1jyg0_vpor821u9VhV3I1g4bjwF7CkQ5Z1G2QJnskYFWMmKGeA73nTHxRvsP4SnDlGNp4PPJiFv-C8fosqfunsQAZXMITzv0psehvCVKobzT9Y0Flp/s1600/10399275_577073977228_6823_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYgGRTN0MiyUtaQ-0Bf1jyg0_vpor821u9VhV3I1g4bjwF7CkQ5Z1G2QJnskYFWMmKGeA73nTHxRvsP4SnDlGNp4PPJiFv-C8fosqfunsQAZXMITzv0psehvCVKobzT9Y0Flp/s320/10399275_577073977228_6823_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanoi street, 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i> </i> </div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-79335320865620007932015-08-10T21:28:00.000-07:002015-08-10T21:28:00.039-07:00Past its prime: Expiration date debate<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Awhile ago, one of my friends from back
home sparked a great debate on Facebook. The debate over yogurt,
specifically, yogurt passed its “eat by”
date. Naturally, my friend took to social media
to decide what to do—to eat or not to eat? I, ever one to live
dangerously, was solidly in the “Eat it!” camp.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Give it the sniff test,” I
encouraged her, “If it passes that, then take a small bite and if
it tastes good, go for it!”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Others were vehemently opposed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Don't do it! It's not worth the
risk! You could get food poisoning!” her best friend warned.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the end, she ate it. And lived to
tell the tale. I'm fairly certain she didn't get food poisoning either.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Many Americans are obsessed with these
dates. The problem is, they are confusing. There is “sell by,”
“best by,” and “eat by” dates. What's the difference and does
it matter? <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2013/09/19/health/sell-by-dates-waste-food/" target="_blank">Many reports claim these days are arbitrary</a>, yet lead us
into believing we must trash any food passed the marked date.
According to <a href="http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/11/141120-food-waste-use-by-expiration-labels-ngfood/" target="_blank">this article by National Geographic</a>, over a billion tons
of food is wasted globally each year; in other words, roughly <i>a
third</i> of food produced annually is thrown away. That's got to be
enough food to feed most of the world's hungry.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't think any nation could trump
Americans obsession over expiration dates or surmount our food waste
(the average American family throws out US$1500 worth of food a year!)
but leave it to the Chinese to outshine us, at least on the former
front (I'm sure they'll catch up to us in waste soon enough). They
have taken expiration labeling to a whole new level. Never mind food,
anything is fair game--there are expiration dates on
perfume, hand tissues, and printer paper. But it goes deeper. Last week, I
realized the full depth of the insanity.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh94fTH1PylCFMSLLJ5scm8evrS0MnxHIX0VlGvf19Hd-rPSTeRU2QKhExerU-Z7XIx3Yuq9h35YI3b_Vp9mHMoqd87A2o2Yz4mVPma7h-djpJsuCrjU57EAW6wQiSMZ_tGU92h/s1600/2531170_090155299591_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh94fTH1PylCFMSLLJ5scm8evrS0MnxHIX0VlGvf19Hd-rPSTeRU2QKhExerU-Z7XIx3Yuq9h35YI3b_Vp9mHMoqd87A2o2Yz4mVPma7h-djpJsuCrjU57EAW6wQiSMZ_tGU92h/s320/2531170_090155299591_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo via nicpic.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“When does wine expire?” my Chinese
friend asked, in a tone that sounded like I'd be graded on my answer.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Expire? Wine doesn't expire. But
I've heard that after 150 years most wines turn to vinegar,” I told
her, almost certain of my answer.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
She smiled at me knowingly and replied, “Well, Chinese wines expire. I saw in
the supermarket that Great Wall red expires after ten years."</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don't know, but a little part of me died with the knowledge that the Chinese nouveau riche may never experience a good
vintage out of fear of expiration. Then my most painful realization occurred, Chinese cheese connoisseurs may bypass a tasty aged cheddar for some seemingly newer, fresher cheese. I hope it isn't so. Some things truly do get better with age.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the real question is: where is this paranoia coming from? In the case of China, I think expiration dates give consumers a false sense of security. They provide them with a feeling that the food is safe if eaten during a certain time frame, when the reality is food quality is poor due to reasons outside of age and freshness. Anyone living in China knows that food safety scares are unending. This summer it came to light that <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-china-33254123" target="_blank">decades-old meat was being smuggled in China</a>. Talk about being past its expiration date, yuck. Labels mean little. When eating in China, one has to be careful, but also realize you may end up eating something questionable no matter what precautions you take.<br />
<br />
<i>Do you check expiration dates carefully? What kind of things do you do to ensure your eating healthily? </i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-78925400406781611692015-08-06T20:45:00.004-07:002015-08-06T20:45:51.880-07:00My guest post on Speaking of China<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
For anyone who reads my blog who doesn't follow Jocelyn's fantastic AMWF (Asian male/Western female) blog, <a href="http://www.speakingofchina.com/" target="_blank">Speaking of China</a>, please check out my recent guest post, <a href="http://www.speakingofchina.com/guest-posts/why-did-i-assume-id-never-find-a-man-to-date-in-china/" target="_blank"><i>Why Did I Assume I'd Never Find a Man to Date in China</i></a>. I write about a failed blind date with an Asian man and how it affected my perception of Asian men and myself. You can also read another guest post I wrote on Speaking of China about meeting my husband, Ming, <a href="http://www.speakingofchina.com/double-happiness/enter-zhao-ming-chinas-answer-to-arnold-schwarzenegger/" target="_blank"><i>Enter Zhao Ming. . . China's Answer to Arnold Swarzenegger</i></a>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-yyKBqte481Jw2ffdOFlkCD1orva9W0l3ct6Bkc_oZkJEIWlS6mokibuUnNO-VhvAj_dYTmCCZMyoVrcQCFyOnaxAsKe3pfuoACQ9HpkDqQ0Fn17wElpzoL-AFi4Asfle_76/s1600/P1080848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-yyKBqte481Jw2ffdOFlkCD1orva9W0l3ct6Bkc_oZkJEIWlS6mokibuUnNO-VhvAj_dYTmCCZMyoVrcQCFyOnaxAsKe3pfuoACQ9HpkDqQ0Fn17wElpzoL-AFi4Asfle_76/s320/P1080848.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banbi Mountain, Chengde, China. 2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-34992179376757644122015-08-04T02:37:00.000-07:002015-08-04T02:45:03.093-07:00Tips for China Newbies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My friend M, who I mentioned in an
earlier <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2015/07/crazy-ht-thats-happened-to-me-in-asia.html" target="_blank">post about our crazy trip to Sumatra</a>, is moving to China! Her
husband, who works for a large American company, got offered a
two-year position in western China and they plan to make their big
move next month. Sadly, they will be arriving around the same time I will be returning to the US, but I am no less excited for them.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If anyone can handle a move abroad, M
can. She's traveled and lived in countless places. She even came to
visit me in China back in 2006. The trip was plagued with various
illnesses, horrendous toilets, and epic bus and train rides, yet she
took it all in stride. Though there may be some hiccups along the
way, I know she's in for a great time and adventure in China. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPu-QM_Kb-_3fr6FsyURK6ehyNbPDx3HunDTLIa3W6BGaJWEpmhwHZX-Jh_iMiFnDjHFFQ_36cv22TAmMxM2c_M2pvaaYDpRov-yppnc82LdAb3k6GZVmKLgOtwfNPDnmjrji/s1600/1927736_527665177858_4512_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPu-QM_Kb-_3fr6FsyURK6ehyNbPDx3HunDTLIa3W6BGaJWEpmhwHZX-Jh_iMiFnDjHFFQ_36cv22TAmMxM2c_M2pvaaYDpRov-yppnc82LdAb3k6GZVmKLgOtwfNPDnmjrji/s320/1927736_527665177858_4512_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">M and me, Yunnan Province, 2006</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Inspired by M and also by The Love Blender's excellent posts about living abroad (her advice on <a href="http://www.theloveblender.com/how-to-improve-your-social-life-abroad/" target="_blank">improving your social life</a>, <a href="http://www.theloveblender.com/beating-culture-shock-when-moving-abroad-part-1/" target="_blank">beating culture shock</a> and <a href="http://www.theloveblender.com/5-steps-to-a-healthy-lifestyle-abroad/" target="_blank">staying healthy</a> is spot on), I thought about what advice I'd give to anyone who is about to move to China. Take it or leave it, here are my two cents:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
1. <b>Study the language </b>This one seems so obvious, but once you arrive in China you will quickly find many foreigners, some who have lived here for years, can barely speak the most basic phrases (you'll also meet those who have lived here for a year and can speak like a native). I made hardly any progress in learning the language my first year and even after a decade have not yet achieved fluency. You can absolutely get by knowing very little of the language and locals won't even fault you for it. But you are doing yourself a great disservice. Since improving my Mandarin, my world here has been opened up exponentially. I understand so much more about the culture, the people, and the food because I am able to speak and read Chinese. Don't put off learning, no matter how long you plan on being in country. Try to find a class or tutor as soon as possible so you can get off the ground running and establish good study habits. It is absolutely worth the time and trouble. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEyxUHf4IJEdWTRFT59tZ4AyZRt-ZEIYIlLJXhIf4lJv-p8IPO7Cz9qs81cq2lLGhL5D9Sh2g6K0xVvJ-1AT_pNwhcJUlEco-ZX8h6KXAcoXNAUjmV2qrOBmWM91NbdiNpyI7/s1600/1936940_692173676508_5153629_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEyxUHf4IJEdWTRFT59tZ4AyZRt-ZEIYIlLJXhIf4lJv-p8IPO7Cz9qs81cq2lLGhL5D9Sh2g6K0xVvJ-1AT_pNwhcJUlEco-ZX8h6KXAcoXNAUjmV2qrOBmWM91NbdiNpyI7/s320/1936940_692173676508_5153629_n.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with my long-time friend, Apple</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
2. <b>Make local friends</b> In my experience, locals are very interested in foreigners and many would like to make foreign friends. Making friends with Chinese people isn't hard, but creating a true and lasting friendship may take some time. There can be a number of cultural and language barriers to overcome at first, but with some effort you can learn a lot from each other. I met some of my closest Chinese friends during my first year here. Throughout the years, they have helped me understand everything from Chinese pop culture to traditional medicine. I've taught them things such as English internet slang and how to bake chocolate chip cookies. Best of all, I feel like they know a side of me many of my friends back home don't, my "China side."</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
3. <b>Network on WeChat </b>I am not much for social media. I try to avoid Facebook and I haven't even dabbled into Snapchat or Twitter or whatever people are using these days. But I do use <a href="http://www.wechat.com/en/" target="_blank">WeChat</a>, which is probably the most popular way to connect with people in China these days. Connections in China are important, so this is a great way to network and organize all your contacts. WeChat allows you to post short messages with photos or share articles. You can also text or voice message and video chat. And it's free! I definitely recommend downloading it to your phone if you'll be living in China.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
4. <b>Learn how to use Taobao </b>I can't believe I survived as long as I did without <a href="http://taobao.com/" target="_blank">Taobao</a> in my life. Taobao is a bit like Ebay, without the auctions. You have thousands of "stores" to shop at, most of them specializing in a certain type of product. Prices are very competitive and many sellers offer free shipping. You can find lots of import products too, some of them well-priced. I buy books, art supplies, trinkets, and even food on Taobao. I've had very few problems and usually when I have the seller has given me a refund. Taobao is almost entirely in Chinese and if you have any issues with the product or delivery you're obviously going to have to speak Chinese or find a Chinese friend or co-worker who can help you. I also recommend China's <a href="http://amazon.cn/" target="_blank">Amazon</a> which is a little bit more foreigner friendly (there is an English language option on the site) and slightly more expensive. As for payment, sometimes cash on delivery is available, otherwise you'll have to have a Chinese bank card and get yourself setup online. Have a Chinese friend help you with this.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxjUcXT2HqGDl-agiRHXjrM2Ohjk4e9GuB_XLiciTPrGRboQmAB4-2AY6uyME2am2w45e7kU3vXFtrjJKXhzZoG2dDZg_XP8kxdZGjq-BbFHOKn2naSNcc2j1EcFHkwSGTuYD/s1600/P1090061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxjUcXT2HqGDl-agiRHXjrM2Ohjk4e9GuB_XLiciTPrGRboQmAB4-2AY6uyME2am2w45e7kU3vXFtrjJKXhzZoG2dDZg_XP8kxdZGjq-BbFHOKn2naSNcc2j1EcFHkwSGTuYD/s320/P1090061.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">made possible by my oven</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
5.<b> Get a VPN</b> If you want to surf the web freely, get a VPN (virtual private network) BEFORE you arrive (you may not be able to access the site once in China). Most people know Facebook is blocked here, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. Many blogs and western news sites are blocked or slow to load. Accessing Gmail will make you want to rip your hair out. The list of sites behind the great (fire) wall is long. Do yourself a favor and purchase a VPN. Yes, purchase. I am a cheapskate, but I've learned the hard way that free VPNs never last and aren't worth the frustration. I have used <a href="https://www.astrill.com/" target="_blank">Atrill VPN</a> for the past few years and they have great customer service and allow users to pick from a variety of servers. There are a number of other VPNs to pick from, but try to do some research into which one is right for you.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
6. <b>Make it feel like home</b> This was one thing I failed to do when I first lived here. I figured I wouldn't be in China long, so I didn't want to spend money on anything. Specifically, I longed to have an oven, but it seemed like too frivolous of a purchase. I waited years before finally caving and it was one of the best purchases I ever made. It cost about 400 rmb and was worth every mao. You can't put a price on fresh baked focaccia or <a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Black-Magic-Cake/Detail.aspx?event8=1&prop24=SR_Thumb&e11=black%20magic%20cake&e8=Quick%20Search&event10=1&e7=Home%20Page&soid=sr_results_p1i1" target="_blank">Black Magic Cake</a>. Do yourself a favor and splurge on a few things to make your house (apartment) feel more like a home.<br />
<br />
7. <b>Get into a routine</b> Your life may feel like it's been turned upside down and shaken when you first arrive, but before long you can establish a routine. While in China, I've always had an odd work schedule so this is one aspect of life I've struggled with. Try to set aside part of the day for exercising or studying Chinese. Try not to binge on too many late night sessions of Netflix (or beer). You'll get so much out of your time here if you get out and explore. Which leads me to. . .</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-W7ORMSE3JaV9NS63w01maOxdqmYBgf8UQSmo_LejzhFPPIiWjevsSDg1HSkSEE5QeTSVZfaUNoP8dJfO9ZaY3bz82byNouDRRHvLQd91F8sl9hbRRml5hZl1jnrKyTb9K4r/s1600/1928959_527666290628_1041_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw-W7ORMSE3JaV9NS63w01maOxdqmYBgf8UQSmo_LejzhFPPIiWjevsSDg1HSkSEE5QeTSVZfaUNoP8dJfO9ZaY3bz82byNouDRRHvLQd91F8sl9hbRRml5hZl1jnrKyTb9K4r/s320/1928959_527666290628_1041_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">me in Cambodia, 2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
8. <b>Travel</b> I've made it a point to travel as much as possible while living in China. I tried to live simply to save up for such trips, knowing that once I move back to the US my chances of returning to Asia for a vacation would be slim. At first I was nervous to travel on my own, but after a few months in China I took a week long solo trip to Guangxi Province and quickly overcame my fear. I went on to take numerous trips throughout China and neighboring countries. Use your vacation time and put aside some extra cash and JUST DO IT. Travel in China and particularly in Southeast Asia and India is very affordable and in many places tourism is developed enough that transport and accommodation is fairly straight forward. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Do you live abroad? Do you have any advice to add to the list?</i> </div>
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-1031075601615453422015-07-31T06:10:00.000-07:002015-07-31T06:10:07.470-07:00Beijing 2022<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqWG0Cf9uZyao1OK-aayzrGbxVANHGJqRSC9NOkJ9iFQ4TXSNMlAbPvicOdKwozFFTTWyjJtN5YbRQS8jnfCUkkiKiY1IyCoOT9KR1rrLidBmp4uj8FhT2s78cCKYsIfLqpI6/s1600/1910150_527664653908_5939_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqWG0Cf9uZyao1OK-aayzrGbxVANHGJqRSC9NOkJ9iFQ4TXSNMlAbPvicOdKwozFFTTWyjJtN5YbRQS8jnfCUkkiKiY1IyCoOT9KR1rrLidBmp4uj8FhT2s78cCKYsIfLqpI6/s320/1910150_527664653908_5939_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1194 days to go! Me in Beijing, May 2005</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am super excited about the Olympic committee's decision today. Beijing narrowly beat out Almaty in its bid for the 2022 Winter Olympics, becoming the first city to host both the Summer and Winter Olympics. 加油北京!Go Beijing! <br />
<br />
When I first moved to China in early 2005, I was struck by how excited Chinese people were about the Olympics. There were "Beijing 2008" signs (and countdowns, see photo) in Beijing, sure, but I remember seeing advertisements everywhere I traveled in China, as far south as Guilin. Being from the US, the Olympics are certainly popular, but hosting them isn't cause for much excitement; in fact, it often creates a lot of grumbling. As costs for hosting rise, the appeal to host has become less and less enticing for some countries, such as my own. But that's certainly not the case for China or Asia (which will be hosting three Olympic Games in a row--Pyeong Chang 2018, Tokyo 2020, and Beijing 2022).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjoDpLx-Jv68V9_dhraZk_uTj-ymys2ndnr8_5TBbMzD6Y1mz3pK_oA0tugQNELsO2Xrz5T0D-Qyc_BykfJYQMsGMLcBiutWEWV_aDfyKwchCuIMIFJ_fhyphenhyphenftDZLJzK5_f9r3V/s1600/10400796_596251944428_2322_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjoDpLx-Jv68V9_dhraZk_uTj-ymys2ndnr8_5TBbMzD6Y1mz3pK_oA0tugQNELsO2Xrz5T0D-Qyc_BykfJYQMsGMLcBiutWEWV_aDfyKwchCuIMIFJ_fhyphenhyphenftDZLJzK5_f9r3V/s320/10400796_596251944428_2322_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beijing Paralympics, Sept 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I lived in Beijing during the run up to the Olympics and watched the city transform. When I first arrived, Beijing had only three subway lines, but beginning in 2007, a new line seemed to open every few months (and this trend continues today). Ramshackle restaurants soon began to disappear, as did much street food. A small part of me mourned such developments, though I had to concede most changes were probably for the best. Citizens were coached on how to treat foreign guests, with tips posted in various places throughout the city (perhaps the whole country) and red banners urging people to "act civilized." Volunteer attendants strictly guarded bus stops and subway platforms, yelling at anyone who pushed or rushed an opening door. Locals spit less and stood in line more. The feeling of excitement and pride was palpable. It was also contagious. I couldn't help but feel happy for Beijingers and China as 2007 came to a close. I also felt sad to be leaving the country at such a momentous time. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDsPb44IW3wDaSbNvzsGIN94_mVyI-fW3BdjIXojILE34-1FGCzEmCIoKyAXaMYtbNHocXlMfSzYcNUM7QnS6bXrKd7Kl7AaIMIQ1PsL5f23A0QlM_9rGKiZIgCUDiGyXZu0U9/s1600/10400796_596251959398_2945_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDsPb44IW3wDaSbNvzsGIN94_mVyI-fW3BdjIXojILE34-1FGCzEmCIoKyAXaMYtbNHocXlMfSzYcNUM7QnS6bXrKd7Kl7AaIMIQ1PsL5f23A0QlM_9rGKiZIgCUDiGyXZu0U9/s320/10400796_596251959398_2945_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">view of the Water Cube from inside the Nest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But due to unforeseen events, Ming and I returned to China in early 2008. The price of rent in Beijing had, by then, skyrocketed. For example, our one bedroom apartment near the student district of Wudaokou had increased from 1700 rmb/month (US$220 at the time) to 2500 rmb. There was really no reason for us to return to the capital, so we decided to settle in Ming's hometown instead. I had my heart set on going to the games, but scoring tickets seemed like a sport in and of itself. From what I remember, it involved signing up on a Chinese website as soon as a certain set of tickets became available. Tickets often sold out quickly, some within minutes. The purchased tickets later had to be picked up at a designated time and place. The whole process seemed beyond my ability or patience level. Moreover, finding a hotel would be impossible or cause bankruptcy. I soon turned to plan B. We'd skip the hassle of the Summer Olympics and attend the Beijing Paralympics in fall.<br />
<br />
It turned out to be a brilliant plan. Tickets were relatively easy to obtain by simply purchasing them online. I opted for some basic seats to watch track and field which was held in the famed Bird's Nest stadium--the total for two tickets wasn't much more than 100 rmb. Once our tickets were secured, we had no trouble finding cheap accommodation. On the day of the event, we left our hostel early, but getting to the Nest was pretty time-consuming. I'd rather not imagine what it would have been like during the summer games. The Olympic subway line was packed and we had to wait a considerable amount of time just to board a train. Once we were finally in the stadium's vicinity we stood gobsmacked at the snaking line for security. We decided to take out time outside, as we were already late for the start of the event anyways. We snapped some pictures and eventually made it through the long line.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoRXUCRTnDdrbqAVtJ4KrkS4I4LZk2Oh_-jpGMAo_rEYrO3QFZGtfcTBPfltHev_yJPNpdscx1HCSaDNa540QvHTuioa6c0sDyWmheFM300FQD0pJj6Mr1BCxz4Osja5KFngas/s1600/10400796_596251889538_8940_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoRXUCRTnDdrbqAVtJ4KrkS4I4LZk2Oh_-jpGMAo_rEYrO3QFZGtfcTBPfltHev_yJPNpdscx1HCSaDNa540QvHTuioa6c0sDyWmheFM300FQD0pJj6Mr1BCxz4Osja5KFngas/s320/10400796_596251889538_8940_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ming and I outside the Nest, 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The actual event was awesome. The stadium was completely packed with onlookers, which surprised me. But what was truly amazing was the athletes themselves. Though all participants were disabled, most of them physically, though I believe some of them mentally, they were capable of achieving things I couldn't even imagine. I was deeply moved by their ability not only to overcome their disabilities, but also to achieve such difficult feats athletically. Sure, attending the Olympics must be great and something I hope to do at some point in my life, but I think the Paralympics are very special in their own right. I'm really glad I had the chance to experience them, especially in a city I had briefly called my home, Beijing.<br />
<br />
<i>Have you ever attended the Olympic Games? Has your country ever hosted them?</i><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-90723590090202818572015-07-27T21:53:00.000-07:002015-07-27T21:53:00.661-07:00Books about China: My Picks and Pans<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">What I'm glad I read before coming to China</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
1. Peter Hessler's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/River-Town-Years-Yangtze-P-S-ebook/dp/B0046ZREEA" target="_blank"><i>River Town: Two Years on the Yangtze</i></a><span style="font-style: normal;">.
I fell in love with China (and maybe a little bit with Peter Hessler)
while reading this book. Hessler came to China in the 90's as a Peace
Corp member stationed in a remote town on the Yangtze River.
He captures the everyday intricacies of life in China beautifully and
helped me to understand what it would be like to teach English in
China before I arrived. For “old China hands” I would probably
recommend his book </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Country-Driving-Journey-Through-Factory-ebook/dp/B0035D9UX2/ref=pd_sim_351_2?ie=UTF8&refRID=046KQ82GKQAPZFY380GJ" target="_blank"><i>Country Driving</i></a><span style="font-style: normal;">,
but for those who are less familiar with China, this is a great book
to get your feet wet.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wild-Swans-Three-Daughters-China-ebook/dp/B0036QVOIW/ref=sr_1_1_ha?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1437483622&sr=1-1&keywords=Wild+Swans" target="_blank"><i></i></a></span><br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0</style>2. <span style="font-style: normal;">I knew nothing about Chinese history before my arrival and what I did know came from Jung Chang's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wild-Swans-Three-Daughters-China-ebook/dp/B0036QVOIW/ref=sr_1_1_ha?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1437483622&sr=1-1&keywords=Wild+Swans" target="_blank"><i>Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China</i></a>. </span>This book makes
history accessible to even those who loathe to read about it.
Her story includes her mother and grandmother's own stories and nearly brings us
through the entire 20<sup>th </sup>century in China. <i>Wild Swans</i> is
never dull, reading more like a novel. It is at times both
heartbreaking and rage inducing.
</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">My
favorite guilty pleasures</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">1. I
remember the first time I saw <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Undress-Temple-Heaven-Susan-Gilman-ebook/dp/B001UL3ACI/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8" target="_blank"><i>Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven</i></a><span style="font-style: normal;">,
sitting on the lower bunk of a fellow traveler when I was staying in
a Beijing hostel. “God, I'm glad I've graduated from reading such
crap,” I thought to myself, rolling my eyes at the title. It must
have been about a year later that I came across Susan Jane Gilman's memoir again and
decided to have a quick look. I was immediately engrossed in a tale
of two young American women who came to China shortly after its
opening. Reading about China in the 1980's was fascinating in itself,
but the story of these young women takes a terrifying turn which is
sure to keep most readers up late, desperate to know how it all ends.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">2. Another fun memoir, Rachel DeWoskin's </span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Foreign-Babes-Beijing-Behind-Scenes-ebook/dp/B003WQAQE4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1437483839&sr=1-1&keywords=foreign+babes+in+beijing" target="_blank"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><i>Foreign Babes in Beijing: Behind the Scenes of a New China</i></span></span></i></a><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span></i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">is a com</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">ing-of-age story both for the writer and the city she is living in. </span></span>
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style><span style="font-size: small;">I loved reading about Beijing as it was in the 90's. It
helps put in perspective how fast the city, and the country as a
whole, has changed. DeWoskin also provides the reader into a view
that many people don't often get to see. What's it like to star on a
Chinese soap opera? Date a Chinese man? Experience local backlash
after a terrorist attack? Read to find out!</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;">On
a more serious note</span></span><br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.0</style><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">1. </span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Good-Women-China-Hidden-Voices-ebook/dp/B001M5JVRK/ref=la_B001IR17ME_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1437484153&sr=1-3" target="_blank">The Good Women of China: Hidden Voices</a></i> by was a book passed on to me by another expat. Get the tissues out for this one, it's a painful read, but worth it. It's </span></span>not
so much about the author, Beijing journalist Xinran, but of the
harrowing tales she encountered over the years working as a talkshow
host at Nanjing Radio Station in the 1980's. Though the rights of
women in China have improved considerably in recent years, there
stories are no less powerful. I have a terrible memory when it comes to
novels and movies; most of them I forget as soon as I am finished.
But years after reading this book, I still recall some of the women's
heartbreaking experiences.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal;">
</div>
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in</style><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">2. </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ha Jin's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Waiting-Vintage-International-Ha-Jin-ebook/dp/B000QCSAU4/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1437484226&sr=1-2&keywords=WAiting" target="_blank"><i>Waiting</i></a></span>. I can and do read
fiction, though I find true accounts of China more rewarding than
their fictional counterparts. Jin's novel is an exception to this
rule. His story captures the plight of a man and his lover during
a tightly controlled Communist China. After reading the
book, I felt grateful to live in a time in place in which I am free
to pick my own destiny. It was not so long ago, that most Chinese
people's entire lives were mapped out by familial duty and government
restrictions.</span></span><br />
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I
was less impressed with </span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">1.
I am hesitant to pan this one (and I promise my lack of enthusiasm
has no relation to my coveting <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/contributors/peter-hessler" target="_blank">the author's husband</a>), but I struggled to finish Leslie Chang's </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Factory-Girls-Village-Changing-China-ebook/dp/B001FA0URC/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1437483779&sr=1-1&keywords=leslie+chang" target="_blank"><i>Factory Girls: From Village to City in a Changing China</i></a><span style="font-style: normal;">.
It's a book that tops the lists of China “must read” books and
one that I thought sounded intriguing. Chang follows the development
of China's boom towns and chronicles the lives of the migrant
women who go to live there. Doesn't that sound interesting? In the
very beginning, I suppose it was, but after awhile the stories grew
hard to follow and repetitive. I began confusing the names of the
different women Chang follows as she jumped between people and
places. She also devotes a large part of the book to her own family's
history which has no relation to the subject matter and,
unfortunately, is boring. There, I said it.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">2. I read Adeline Yen Mah's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Falling-Leaves-Unwanted-Chinese-Daughter-ebook/dp/B004CRTALC/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1437484273&sr=1-2&keywords=Fallen+Leaves" target="_blank"><i>Falling Leaves: The True Story of an Unwanted Chinese Daughter</i></a> ten years ago and I still clearly remember my disappointment with it. Another memoir (this list is heavy with memoirs), this one focuses on a young Chinese girl's abuse at the hands of her step-mother. The book has interesting snippets about Chinese history and culture, but it's hard to read about a child being severely mistreated. I continued reading, hoping that the writer would somehow triumph, but I finished the book feeling she would forever remain in her role as victim. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;">On
my “to-read” list</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">1. Right now I'm working on </span></span></span><i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Midnight-Peking-Murder-Englishwoman-Haunted-ebook/dp/B0072NWJRK/ref=sr_1_1_ha?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1437484739&sr=1-1&keywords=Midnight+in+Peking" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Midnight in Peking: How the Murder of a Young Englishwoman</i> <i>Haunted the Last Days of Old China</i></span></span></span></a></i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"> by Paul French. </span></span></span><i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">If reading about<i> </i></span></span></span></i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">expat </span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">life in China at the end of the 20th century is interesting, reading about early 20th century life is truly fascinating. This true story is about the mysterious death of a young British woman who lived in Beijing with her diplomat father during the lead up to World War Two<i>.</i></span></span></span><i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">2. Amy Tan's latest novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Valley-Amazement-Amy-Tan-ebook/dp/B00BATG18K/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1437484519&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Valley+of+Amazement" target="_blank"><i>The Valley of Amazement</i></a>. I loved Tan's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Joy-Luck-Club-Amy-ebook/dp/B004IYISSK/ref=pd_sim_351_9?ie=UTF8&refRID=18ZZ0HZT5NEZMTKX2Q5H" target="_blank"><i>The Joy Luck Club</i></a> which beautifully portrays the struggle between mothers and daughters, as well as the cross-cultural conflict between immigrants and their first generation children. It sounds like her new novel revisits those themes through a very different story. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">3. My ultimate goal: To read Yu Hua's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Live-Novel-Yu-Hua-ebook/dp/B000XU8DU6/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1437484370&sr=1-1&keywords=To+Live" target="_blank"><i>To Live</i></a> in Chinese. </span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Have you read any books about China? What are your favorites? What's on your summer's "to-read" list?</i></span> </span></span></div>
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-66850661146541785202015-07-22T23:30:00.000-07:002015-07-23T19:15:11.767-07:00What's wrong with your skin?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGHp4IUp_85isDtWkrSVeHGVDcvqfRQEVrzvj3XpTenYmRKnhvx6swTHlDm-wVnVuXybHehaua9Au10JZ4HTmoJZH5-_vf1u6GPIjKIa7wdtla2kOkImbM1FRZTR_ln4y1jxwF/s1600/14165294NAD-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGHp4IUp_85isDtWkrSVeHGVDcvqfRQEVrzvj3XpTenYmRKnhvx6swTHlDm-wVnVuXybHehaua9Au10JZ4HTmoJZH5-_vf1u6GPIjKIa7wdtla2kOkImbM1FRZTR_ln4y1jxwF/s320/14165294NAD-1.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo via photobucket (krashcdm)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am indisputable Irish. You can perhaps tell just by looking at me; I've been told by real Irishmen that I look the part. It's also there in old US census records. I traced back my mom's lineage to the "old country" and my maternal grandpa's paternal grandpa was indeed born somewhere in Ireland. Everyone loves the Irish, don't they? What other country has a drunken holiday entirely devoted to it? Could you get away with wearing a "Kiss me, I'm German" shirt? I think not.<br />
<br />
So I suppose it's a good thing to be part Irish. Except for the times when it isn't--like those summer days when I would lay out on our asphalted driveway with the neighbor girl, desperately hoping to get a tan and ending up looking like a lobster. Or when the movie <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casper_%28film%29" target="_blank"><i>Casper</i></a> came out and suddenly all my middle school classmates found it hilarious to nickname me after a ghost. Yes, I have very, very white skin and I always hated it, until I came to China.<br />
<br />
The Chinese, and I suppose Asians in general, have a thing for white skin. They use lotion with whiteners and spend the entire summer hiding under a parasol. In Asia, I have often been complimented on my skin tone, which has been an adjustment after it having it been under constant scrutiny growing up. In recent years, I've come to embrace my paleness and no long hide my frighteningly white legs in summer. I wear shorts, almost with pride.<br />
<br />
While I'm not longer ashamed of my fairness, I have become somewhat shy about something else--my freckles. As a kid, I never minded them. I was told they were cute. But the Chinese don't seem to agree. I remember once watching an episode of the TV show <i>Lost</i> with Ming. One of the characters, Kate, was given the pet name of "Freckles" by another character that seemed to have the hots for her. Ming looked at me confused.<br />
<br />
"Why's he calling her that? I thought he liked her." In his mind, it was like calling your crush a fatso. It made no sense and would totally ruin a dude's game.<br />
<br />
"He does like her. He calls her that because he thinks her freckles are cute. They are cute," I assured him.<br />
<br />
"Hmm," he mulled it over for a bit, "I guess they could be. . . "<br />
<br />
"What? You don't think my freckles are cute?" I teased.<br />
<br />
"Well, I guess now I do!"<br />
<br />
Thank heavens for <i>Lost</i>, it allowed Ming to see my freckles in a whole new light! Unfortunately, he's probably the only one out of a population of 1.3 billion. I was reminded of this not once, but twice, this past week. . . .<br />
<br />
It starts with a concerned look at my arm and then an obvious attempt to grasp at the appropriate words in English, words that won't be too insulting. The conversation goes something like this:<br />
<br />
"What are those on your arm?" asks Concerned Chinese Person (CCP).<br />
<br />
"Freckles," I answer, knowing damn well CCP hasn't the slightest idea what that means. I'm not trying to be a jerk, but I can never remember the word in Chinese.<br />
<br />
Curiosity tends to override manners now, so goes the follow-up question, "I'm sorry. What's wrong with your skin?"<br />
<br />
"Nothing is wrong. They are called freckles. Many foreigners have them," I explain.<br />
<br />
I see the suspicion in CCP's eyes and maybe even a little pity. CCP fears I have cancer or some other disease.<br />
<br />
"It's because I'm part Irish. Irish people often have these. I'm not sick," I reassure CCP. This generally seems to satisfy the questioner on the topic of freckles even if my arm is still looked at with distaste.<br />
<br />
My freckles are out in full blaze now that it's summer but I try not to be too self-conscious. While sometimes I wish people wouldn't look at my freckles like they are the sign of some underlying illness, I know that beauty standards are different everywhere. I can think freckles are cute even if they don't. <br />
<br />
<i>What about you? Is there a feature you have that you've been teased about? Have you ever found that beauty standards are different when you've lived or traveled in places far from where you grew up?</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-45614223161513290552015-07-19T03:14:00.000-07:002015-07-19T03:14:10.697-07:00Attitudes toward homosexuality in China: What are fǔnǚ?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
With the recent US Supreme Court ruling on gay marriage, some people in countries such as China are being forced to face a topic they rather sweep under the carpet. But for others, the ruling provides an opportunity for them to come out when perhaps they may not have otherwise. One such instance happened earlier this month when <a href="http://www.ibtimes.com/chinese-student-comes-out-graduation-ceremony-historic-first-inspired-us-gay-marriage-1996486" target="_blank">a graduate of Sun Yat-Sen</a> came on stage wearing a rainbow flag and asked for the university president's support.<br />
<br />
In ten years living in China, I have not come across any Chinese friends or acquaintances who were openly gay. In fact, the vast majority of Chinese people say they don't know anyone who is gay. I'm not particularly surprised by this as most gays and lesbians try to live an outwardly straight life in an attempt to appease their families and society. Gay men often marry, some to straight women and others to lesbians. The pressure to marry is great, but perhaps the pressure to have a child is even greater. Nowadays, gays and lesbians can turn online and to <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/dispatches/2011/02/gay_marriage_with_chinese_characteristics.single.html" target="_blank">"marriage markets"</a> so that they can find a partner to enter into a heterosexual marriage and later have a baby.<br />
<br />
I recently talked to one of my adult students, a post-90's generation young woman, what she thought about the Supreme Court ruling and her impression of the overall attitude towards gays in China. The conversation veered in an unexpected direction. <br />
<br />
"Do you know what fǔnǚ (腐女) are?" she asked.<br />
<br />
“Fùnǚ (妇女)? You mean women?" I answered, confused.<br />
<br />
She laughed.<br />
<br />
I had mixed up two near homophones. I had her write the characters down for clarification. The first one, fǔ (腐) means "rotten or decayed" in Chinese (for those beancurd haters out there, it's also the first character in the Chinese word for tofu). Nǚ simply means "female or
woman." A strange word at first glance, but it's actually a transliteration of the Japanese word
(ふじょし,fujoshi) for this phenomenon.<br />
<br />
What phenomenon? She explained that there is a raising trend of teenage girls and young women obsessing over BL (online slang for "Boy Love," yeah, I had to look that up), delighting in gay romance found in books, movies, and anime. There are large groups of women online that swap BL photos and recommend stories, films, and shows featuring BL. Initially, I thought it odd but more-or-less harmless; maybe not <i>so</i> different from the recent popularity of "Bromance" in the US. But there was more.<br />
<br />
These girls also like to pair heterosexual males together, often in photos, for their own amusement. My student showed me a cartoon featuring Kim Jung-un and Barack Obama sitting together shirtless, staring at each other lovingly; this is one such example of the types of stuff that get passed around the internet. But the fǔnǚs fixation isn't strictly reserved to online shenanigans. They may harass male classmates and friends when they show any form of attention or affection towards the same sex, encouraging them to marry or kiss. For fear of being labeled as gay, some young men lash out, making ugly, homophobic comments in an attempt to ward off any further comments. <br />
<br />
I find this trend bizarre and unfortunately, I don't know that it's doing anything to help the plight of the gay community in China, but hopefully the Supreme Court ruling will.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_7lPSNBdqC3QOTvoqcct6qKMWqIVyFq03WdgRIQnLQiwRxD8d999w-lcuhQPWaM9vXq9Ah_bLAAhMxGBIt6Vbx0bMongVXFVR8o3mQ1v17zEbC5ZM3PA9G2-guhcF9fviZE_/s1600/201105162023019208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1_7lPSNBdqC3QOTvoqcct6qKMWqIVyFq03WdgRIQnLQiwRxD8d999w-lcuhQPWaM9vXq9Ah_bLAAhMxGBIt6Vbx0bMongVXFVR8o3mQ1v17zEbC5ZM3PA9G2-guhcF9fviZE_/s320/201105162023019208.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BL anime, from 265g.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i><br /></i> </div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-29855864613835010422015-07-14T01:20:00.000-07:002015-09-12T06:00:59.831-07:00Exporting your pet from China<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcUEdgzoHR8YR_nD9-K3PCgYd2do6-Amufenib-nFXbMn8BgOB8WYtFBQi0Sie5Qo7BfqMO1nDN9na-_GHGkJ2I7uVH-Exy06Cy_4djOrgknw4igpdJitP9vamR_cUD57zPWp/s1600/2896_677161286458_3828587_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcUEdgzoHR8YR_nD9-K3PCgYd2do6-Amufenib-nFXbMn8BgOB8WYtFBQi0Sie5Qo7BfqMO1nDN9na-_GHGkJ2I7uVH-Exy06Cy_4djOrgknw4igpdJitP9vamR_cUD57zPWp/s320/2896_677161286458_3828587_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ming with puppy Fei Fei</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Updated post (Aug 18, 2015)</b><br />
<b>Second Update (Sept 12, 2015) </b><br />
<br />
While it isn't quite official, we will most likely be moving back to the US this fall. My hope is to return sometime in September, with our pooch in tow. Though I am an animal lover, I never expected to get a dog while in China. Ming, my husband, randomly went into a pet shop near our daughter's school and fell in love. He fell madly, deeply, truly for a teeny, tiny poodle. After seeing her, he came home and convinced me to go have a look at her. She was adorable and exactly the kind of dog I imagined owning, but the timing just wasn't right. The next month we were heading off to Europe on vacation for three weeks, hardly an ideal time to get a dog. I promised him we could keep looking and get an idea of what kind of dog we wanted; after our trip we would commit.<br />
<br />
The next weekend we took a stroll through an outdoor market outside Chengde's Summer Mountain Resort. A local pet store had brought some of its animals there. We decided to take a peek. As we approached, we immediately spotted the teeny, tiny poodle. . . in the arms of another man! He was admiring her while his girlfriend looked on and the pet shop owner sang the dog's praises. Ming strutted up quickly and snatched the puppy from the stranger's arms.<br />
<br />
"This is my dog!" he declared. Then he turned to me and said with utter conviction, "Rosie, go run to the ATM. We're buying this dog!" And so we got our dog, Fei Fei.<br />
<br />
That was over six years ago. My husband still adores the dog, at times referring to her as his "dog daughter." He is so distressed at the thought of her dying that he has convinced himself that she will one day be a world record holder and live to be 100. There was no question she'd be coming to the US with us. And so we are beginning the process.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JyYg-mbbbqh8trA7xMoyhxlLksDohfAxZx60PCLQCkzcJQtUvkNV3R7BMQYFheJ0hAqxOdy8iojcayYWzC_evs5_uqKp-0HzC3xRIGjWSXDPO6oknL3mPJ665kCggoS_RKfR/s1600/4418_685698093628_8103890_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2JyYg-mbbbqh8trA7xMoyhxlLksDohfAxZx60PCLQCkzcJQtUvkNV3R7BMQYFheJ0hAqxOdy8iojcayYWzC_evs5_uqKp-0HzC3xRIGjWSXDPO6oknL3mPJ665kCggoS_RKfR/s320/4418_685698093628_8103890_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teddy and Fei Fei</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This is what you need to find out first:</span><br />
<br />
<b>1. The requirements of the country you are flying to.</b><br />
It's extremely important you look into this well in advance as some countries require tests done months in ahead of departure. For example, pets traveling from China to the EU are required to have a <span class="t2">rabies antibody titre test. This is best to have done 6 months or before you leave, though express options may be available. On the other hand, some countries have fairly lax requirements. The US only requires a rabies vaccination, though this must be done at least one month (but less than a year) before departure from China.</span> <b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>2. The policy of the airline you are flying.</b><br />
I will most likely fly from Beijing to Chicago, so I called the carriers I have flown with in the past on that route. Here is what I found out:<br />
-<i>American Airlines</i>: Will not accept pets (as cargo or carry-on) for flights (plus typical check-in time and disembarkment) longer than 12 hours. In other words, they will not accept any pets on flights from China to the US, Canada, most of Europe, etc.<br />
-<i>Hainan Airlines</i>: Will only accept pets as cargo. The price is based on a head-scratching formula that takes in account variables such as your dog's length, width, and height.<br />
-<i>Delta Airlines</i>: Cats and small dogs (less than 10 lbs/5 kilos) can be carried on (US$200 each way). Larger pets can be checked as cargo. I'm not sure of the price of checking a pet as cargo.<br />
-<i>United Airlines</i>: Cats and small dogs can be carried on (US$125 each way). Larger pets can be checked in their special <a href="http://www.united.com/web/en-US/content/travel/animals/petsafe.aspx" target="_blank">PetSafe program</a>. Prices vary depending on weight of dog (small dogs priced at about US$700 each way). <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is what you need to do second:</span><br />
<br />
<b>3. Fill the requirements of the country you are flying to.</b><br />
Your going to need to find a vet and not just any old vet will do. From what I've read, only certain vets are certified to administer tests and vaccines for pets that will be exported. I looked into a few vets in Beijing and found the <a href="http://www.icvsasia.com/" target="_blank">International Center for Veterinary Services</a> as well as <a href="http://www.doctorsbeckandstone.com/" target="_blank">Doctors Beck and Stone</a>. I think I'm going to make an appointment with the latter as they were very prompt and profession in answering my emails.<br />
<br />
<b>4. Purchase the proper carrier/kennel if you don't own one already.</b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyT5jpeLNY87vMAschRw5xCDFPk787ihgERAYN14SV80-_OVEObS3hI57r5tp-WSJixwgRqUtXv87GIjrifESg6CjtvoJ0qP3CgQirXLZWtVQFUeIUl7xX-oOJrRxYxtfNrig8/s1600/TB1TJuaIXXXXXboXpXXXXXXXXXX_%2521%25210-item_pic.jpg_430x430q90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyT5jpeLNY87vMAschRw5xCDFPk787ihgERAYN14SV80-_OVEObS3hI57r5tp-WSJixwgRqUtXv87GIjrifESg6CjtvoJ0qP3CgQirXLZWtVQFUeIUl7xX-oOJrRxYxtfNrig8/s200/TB1TJuaIXXXXXboXpXXXXXXXXXX_%2521%25210-item_pic.jpg_430x430q90.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iris crate sold on Taobao</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I plan to carry-on so I bought a soft carrier. I purchased the<b> </b><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000633ZOY?&psc=1&redirect=true&ref_=od_aui_detailpages00" target="_blank">Sherpa Delta Airlines Deluxe Carrier</a> on Amazon.com (the US site, not the Chinese one). The price of the carrier plus shipping was about US$50 (delivers in 2-3 with standard international shipping). I didn't find any soft carriers I liked on Taobao, but I did find some crates that fit IATA standards, had I needed to check our dog as cargo. It is a Japanese brand, Iris (爱丽思 in Chinese characters), and prices are fairly reasonable. I think such crates can also be found in some Chinese pet shops and veterinarian offices. For more information about IATA, check <a href="http://www.iata.org/whatwedo/cargo/live-animals/pets/Pages/index.aspx" target="_blank">their website</a>. Some detailed instructions on choosing the right crate for your international jet-setting dog, have a look at <a href="http://pettravel.com/">PetTravel.com</a> .<br />
<br />
<b>5. Go through the procedures required by the Chinese government. </b><br />
There is some variation depending on what city you are exiting from. For those leaving from Beijing, you'll be dealing with<b> </b><a href="http://www.chinapet.com.cn/" target="_blank">Guan Shang Animal Hospital</a>. You'll need to visit their office about 7-10 days before departure. They require all pets they see to be micro-chipped. Doctors Beck and Stone offer micro-chipping for 535 RMB plus vet consulting fee (ranging from 50-300 RMB, depending on experience level of vet). You'll also need to provide them with the red vaccination booklet (we actually were given a sheet of paper) you should have received from the vet who provided your pet's previous vaccinations (such as rabies).<br />
<br />
At Guan Shang, they will perform an exam on your pet and may run some tests. Of course, this doesn't come free. The fee depends on the tests are run. We ended up paying 675 RMB (a little over US$100). The results take one to two days, and if Fido/Fluffy is set to jet, he'll be awarded a <span class="t2">"International Companion Animal Health Inspection Form</span>." You then must take that form (valid for 7 days) upstairs to the Entry-Exit Inspection and Quarantine Bureau. You show them the form as well as the vaccination booklet/papers and your passport, give them some cash (100 RMB, but don't quote me on that), and wait another day or two to pick up the <span class="t2">"Animal Health Certificate" (i.e. export permit, valid for 14 days).</span> If you live outside of Beijing and don't want to wait around for the paperwork, Guan Shang will actually do the legwork for you. After the exam results were out, they picked up the export permit for us and sent it to our home by express mail (total cost: 450 RMB, time frame: arrived 2 days from date of exam).<br />
<br />
Guan Shang's contact information is as follows:<br />
<div class="field-address">
<div class="item-list">
<ul class="address">
<li class="address-street-en">Address in English: 1/F, 7 North Third Ring Road (300 meters West of An Hua Qiao, on the north side of the street), Chaoyang District</li>
<li class="address-street-zh">Address in Chinese: 朝阳区北三环中路7 号一层(安华桥往西三百米路北)</li>
<li class="address-hours">Hours: Daily 8.30am-10.30pm</li>
<li class="address-phone">Phone: 400-700-1542、62051944、62366641、62049631、62371359<b> </b></li>
</ul>
</div>
</div>
<b>6. Book your ticket. </b><br />
You definitely need to call the airline to let them know you are traveling with a pet. Try to do it early as there is only a certain number of pets allowed on-board and policies in cargo can vary. I'll be flying Delta and they allow 4 pets in-cabin (economy seating only). They made a note that I will be traveling with a pet and I will pay for her when I check-in a the airport. Some airlines have very strict requirements about the size of your carrier. Be sure to ask, multiple times (and write down the date, time, and name of whoever you speak to in case there is a problem down the road--as happened to me!). If flying your pet cargo, be aware that some airlines won't allow pets to be checked if the temperature is too high or too low. <br />
<br />
I've tried to put together some links from blogs of people who have traveled with there pets. A recent one from <a href="https://chocolatechickinchina.wordpress.com/2015/08/03/traveling-with-a-dog-in-china/" target="_blank">Chocolate Chick in China</a> describes the trials and tribulations of traveling between cities in China with a pet. <a href="http://myhongkonghusband.com/2015/03/19/%E5%A6%82%E4%BD%95%E5%B8%B6%E4%BD%A0%E7%9A%84%E5%AF%B5%E7%89%A9%E5%8E%BB%E6%84%9B%E7%88%BE%E8%98%AD-bringing-your-pet-to-ireland/" target="_blank">My Hong Kong Husband</a> wrote a post about her experiences taking a cat from the US to Ireland. <a href="http://www.theloveblender.com/moving-a-pet-from-taiwan-to-italy/" target="_blank">The Love Blender</a> also have a detailed post about traveling with her cat from Taiwan to the EU. I'll try to add any links I find of other reports. <br />
<br />
<i>If you have gone through the process yourself and have something to add, or if you have any questions, please comment!</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtS3qE-yLERwYvgAMS70GOXqKNF1BNIjPcizzeo1slQQOiXS1axixT_WX2c_U7HhhKhvHi9HYrT2F4uUm0r6NTgWcAAKBb6SU3j7aW05FoYTLU6bcZA3H37l2SNhT9rJWFXkIQ/s1600/741501_082155069_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtS3qE-yLERwYvgAMS70GOXqKNF1BNIjPcizzeo1slQQOiXS1axixT_WX2c_U7HhhKhvHi9HYrT2F4uUm0r6NTgWcAAKBb6SU3j7aW05FoYTLU6bcZA3H37l2SNhT9rJWFXkIQ/s320/741501_082155069_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-2551921565807560532015-07-10T21:45:00.000-07:002015-08-04T02:54:55.482-07:00Crazy $h!t that's happened to me in Asia: Hostage crisis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>With this chapter of my life soon
coming to a close, I can't help but look back at everything that's
happened over the past ten years. Now that I'm older, now that I'm
someone's mother, I can't believe some of the situations I put myself
into. I was at times naive, stupid, and lucky (or perhaps unlucky, if
you're a glass-half-full kinda person). Many of my most bizarre
experiences I never wrote about, but it's not too late. In fact, I
think now is the perfect time to reflect and share my craziest
adventures living in traveling in Asia. I'm going to start with my
favorite, the time I got held for ransom in the Sumatran jungle.
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The story starts out typically enough,
at least for anyone whose a globetrotter. My friend M and I wanted to
meet up. She was in the US, I in China. She'd already visited me in
China once before and I had recently been home to the States for a
visit. We needed a totally new venue. Somehow, we settled on going to
Sumatra—I think it was because M was hoping to spot a tiger in the
jungle. We rendezvoused in Kuala Lumpur before taking a quick flight
down to Banda Aceh, which is a large city on the northern tip of
Indonesia's island of Sumatra.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXaFrKygauPW1mdFdCnZcGbm9xNHZ6FyabHa9R4oSeJYpuxQ6bnxv3HrIYgu0vndj04Yyh5eburSnmlFDg1Q95Dm6aZ3zM7KH0BKWHEL0FpVOcSeH6EQJCLG11jKPWWEVlw369/s1600/394859_10100435040382648_2090871881_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXaFrKygauPW1mdFdCnZcGbm9xNHZ6FyabHa9R4oSeJYpuxQ6bnxv3HrIYgu0vndj04Yyh5eburSnmlFDg1Q95Dm6aZ3zM7KH0BKWHEL0FpVOcSeH6EQJCLG11jKPWWEVlw369/s1600/394859_10100435040382648_2090871881_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">boat stranded on top of housing, Banda Ache</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Our short time spent in Banda Aceh was
a bit surreal, a precursor for what was yet to come on what was
overall a very intense trip. Banda Aceh is a difficult place to visit
for a couple of reasons. The first being that it was the place
hardest hit by the 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami. Everyone in the city lost
someone that day, many people lost everything. We toured the city
with a local, who showed us numerous inland shipwrecks, boats that
were washed ashore by the tidal waves, too heavy ever to be returned
to the sea. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aceh_Tsunami_Museum" target="_blank">tsunami museum</a> was truly heartbreaking, with a wall
commemorating the dead, flags honoring the countries who donated to the
city's reconstruction, and live footage of the actual event.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRDaNeqc8XswcTMxP9Rojrg38eQMesAtkagHf-59MbyyyUWQy1lW9ArZMpoP5d25LiRMcIS07dbZP_dePsWt6DJaJQy7_sv9UWmyLexMFMijLXA4i0w84uDfknhgg5u0oLS8h/s1600/397159_10100435038681058_923212236_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRDaNeqc8XswcTMxP9Rojrg38eQMesAtkagHf-59MbyyyUWQy1lW9ArZMpoP5d25LiRMcIS07dbZP_dePsWt6DJaJQy7_sv9UWmyLexMFMijLXA4i0w84uDfknhgg5u0oLS8h/s1600/397159_10100435038681058_923212236_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">boat stranded inland, Banda Ache</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Not only was the sadness that
surrounded the tsunami hard to swallow, but I was also overwhelmed by
the staunch conservatism there. I'd been to Indonesia before and
knew it was a predominantly Muslim country, but nothing quite
prepared me for being in a state of the country that practiced <a href="http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2014/02/06/aceh-mulls-sharia-non-muslims.html" target="_blank">sharia law</a>. Suddenly, I felt very aware of the fact that I didn't have a
headscarf on, very aware of the fact that I was simply a woman, roaming
around freely in public. Everywhere we went were packs of men, but
very few woman. At one point a young man in a cafe made a lewd
gesture at us. Another time I was berated by an old man for wearing
inappropriate clothing (a fitted, collared blouse with 3/4-length sleeves). I was
indeed a strange person in a strange land.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
From Banda Aceh, we moved on to a more
relaxed local, Pulau Weh, an island renowned for its diving. I
chickened out on the diving bit, thanks to an irrational fear of
water I've harbored since early childhood. No matter, an island
vacation is still paradise with or without a dive. After the island, we
headed to Bukit Lawang.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO7_8PusTri0d77b6jHBLHFglk954gYsDtLiaKnnTb19CzDWtBZsph8ETzJI3WLtdGqCAvRfP51d6_NXRKUVOW77-ZLr9HqQwuEM7zxV2bgf7-59FQbzrktiYFHU1aezkpsthO/s1600/394304_10100435029020418_353096906_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO7_8PusTri0d77b6jHBLHFglk954gYsDtLiaKnnTb19CzDWtBZsph8ETzJI3WLtdGqCAvRfP51d6_NXRKUVOW77-ZLr9HqQwuEM7zxV2bgf7-59FQbzrktiYFHU1aezkpsthO/s320/394304_10100435029020418_353096906_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">river running through Bukit Lawang</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Bukit Lawang. How can I even describe
such a place? It's hardly a dot on a map. A small town by a river
with a number of cafes and guesthouses catering to mostly foreign
tourists. This place attracts travelers thanks to the nearby
national park and orangutan sanctuary as well as its reputation for organizing decent treks to
spot orangutans in their natural environment (and other animals too; if you
are really, REALLY fortunate, you might see a rare Sumatran rhino or
tiger). When we arrived, we immediately signed-up for a trek. We
decided to do a basic one, two days and one night in the jungle with
a near guarantee of spotting orangutans. Perfect.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before setting out, I had done a little
reading about these treks. Both online and in my Lonely Planet
guidebook, I read warnings about a certain orangutan, known by local
guides as Mona. Mona was a force not to be reckoned with. If she
wanted something, you gave it to her. End of story. I, who in my
previous travels had already had a number of unpleasant run-ins with
monkeys, made an early note to stay clear of Mona.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Naturally, we spotted Mona early-on in our trek. I was a bit nervous, but the guide made a peace offering of rambutans and she let us go on our way, unscathed. I was happy to have seen an orangutan--a famed one, at that. I felt like I'd already gotten my money's worth. If given the chance, I would have headed back to camp, but I was forced to press on. I quickly realized that I was in worse shape than anyone in our group. I've always known that I wouldn't stand a chance if I was caught in some sort of Hunger Games situation, but I wouldn't expect myself to be the first dead. In this case, I was definitely the group's weakest link.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rFKcs_SsMU5vsxLBYjiowxccTo1NR51XBapLsbBmye-Bytz6C9V_tj3vTop7suyZZez0IE9IYaX0bYcod7KiPUtsu5aNFGu5E-G0Uu2G8kVbYVn9lCoX2aDhL4yIdBHPfUsX/s1600/400954_10100435028177108_1750934224_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rFKcs_SsMU5vsxLBYjiowxccTo1NR51XBapLsbBmye-Bytz6C9V_tj3vTop7suyZZez0IE9IYaX0bYcod7KiPUtsu5aNFGu5E-G0Uu2G8kVbYVn9lCoX2aDhL4yIdBHPfUsX/s320/400954_10100435028177108_1750934224_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our trekking group, post-trek</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I fell further and further behind as I sludged miserably through leech infested mud and climbed up slippery mountain slopes, grasping at tree roots to avoid sliding down and off the narrow trail. Before long, I was losing sight of our group and guides. One lone Frenchman took pity on me and slowed down his pace so I wouldn't be left in the dust (mud). I began to cry in frustration.<br />
<br />
"We are going to lose the group. Just leave me!" I urged him dramatically.<br />
<br />
"I can still see them up there. If you are worried, we can just call back one of the guides. It's their job to keep us together," he assured me.<br />
<br />
"Okay," I sobbed, "I think I'm about to have a panic attack."<br />
<br />
I didn't have a panic attack, though I definitely felt something close to panic. The kind Frenchman told me to stop and take it easy and then called to the guides. One of them came back to join us and I felt immediate relief.<br />
<br />
With my new escort, the Frenchman picked up his pace and joined the rest of the group ahead, but I could easily see them in the distance. But suddenly there was something else I could see in the distance. . . another orangutan. It was swinging towards us. It was swinging down towards the ground and was coming straight for us. Oh, wait. No, coming straight for me. I stood frozen. Before I knew it, she was on me.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwF1PDpityyc3HsNt-GzYFCFBzTQfXFd1TSnnlOQINqcv_pbWTAPmaNWO8wEPbCZsh1kSOkB9_e28JQLTeCKstSI0OwrU8j9TrdPTBnCHoW_zXiU6P65SANsSnGbFWVx5gg7ai/s1600/396003_10100435027453558_26934343_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwF1PDpityyc3HsNt-GzYFCFBzTQfXFd1TSnnlOQINqcv_pbWTAPmaNWO8wEPbCZsh1kSOkB9_e28JQLTeCKstSI0OwrU8j9TrdPTBnCHoW_zXiU6P65SANsSnGbFWVx5gg7ai/s320/396003_10100435027453558_26934343_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pure terror behind my smile</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was filled with pure terror. After all my bad run-ins with monkeys and stories I heard about rabies, this was my worst nightmare come true. She held my wrist as I looked into her brown eyes, face to face with my captor (and her offspring), trying to make sense of it all. What did she want from me? Was she going to try and take me up into the trees and integrate me into orangutan society?<br />
<br />
At this point, our group had stopped and everyone made their way towards us. Soon they began snapping photos.<br />
<br />
"Rosie, just turn your arm and slip out of her grip!" M called to me.<br />
<br />
I made one futile attempt at that. It wasn't going to happen; my wrist was in a vise. This was an animal who spent most of her time swinging from branches. She was going to hold onto me as long as she wanted to hold on to me. Luckily, our guide had a plan. He was going to bribe her with fruit. She quickly ate through a pile of oranges and a bunch of rambutans, but still she refused to release me. I was beginning to wonder if there was anything left in our guide's backpack. He pulled out a large bunch of bananas and set them on a long vine. He somehow managed to jimmy the bananas up high off the ground. He then pointed them out to the clinging beast. She let go.<br />
<br />
She was off running to claim the prize extorted from us. We didn't bother to stick around to see if she reached it, scurrying quickly, deeper into the jungle. "That was Jackie. She does it all the time," the guide said casually as we continued on our way. Why was this not mentioned in the guidebooks?! <br />
<br />
That night, as we settled into camp, I was the envy of the group. Everyone else wished they could have had some one-on-one time with an orangutan. But the experience just cemented my fear of monkeys and now I am full-blown phobic. It <i>might</i> just be the craziest thing that has ever happened to me.<br />
<br />
<i>What about you? What is the strangest thing that ever happened to you while on vacation?</i><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfX6OkU0TuAA6YWP4ZasLSH0Npid0MPyrT6yJR47pf8brIWaGZyYa-kk_COpx2poXmhNQkT5vSYBGfh5dqUNWaI5bFknej2P-lHnU3AqlCmP5J0e5azAyo1YULgMyntvPmUSc/s1600/404837_10100480889705238_78188195_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfX6OkU0TuAA6YWP4ZasLSH0Npid0MPyrT6yJR47pf8brIWaGZyYa-kk_COpx2poXmhNQkT5vSYBGfh5dqUNWaI5bFknej2P-lHnU3AqlCmP5J0e5azAyo1YULgMyntvPmUSc/s320/404837_10100480889705238_78188195_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my jungle hat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-88496677368676986372015-07-06T21:54:00.000-07:002015-07-09T05:36:40.306-07:00Giving birth in China: 10 things to expect<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One of my good friend's just had a baby
this past weekend. Like me, she is a foreigner who gave birth in China. I'm
amazed at her courage, as her husband (also foreign) has been out of
the country recently so she's had to navigate the Chinese hospital
system mostly on her own. She also has rather rudimentary spoken
Chinese which presents other challenges. Though we live far apart,
I've tried to be as helpful as possible during her pregnancy. We've
talked a lot about differences between pregnancy and giving birth in
China versus our home countries. Though I've talked about some of my
experiences in other posts, I thought I'd put together a list of some
of the issues I discussed with my friend. For those interested, here
is my list of what to expect when giving birth in China:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLr6S1Lt4cp8jh34e-qZ-F9dVmeqtjUPRjR5dH0u4meLqeSVAXs8CWaUDG5VUKzRWh4usbGKjDeHz6noMo9D824wBTiMwMjrjybUS2XwJ1_FKyy9WP062_TXlZ-1Sse2UMyCE-/s1600/P1080673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLr6S1Lt4cp8jh34e-qZ-F9dVmeqtjUPRjR5dH0u4meLqeSVAXs8CWaUDG5VUKzRWh4usbGKjDeHz6noMo9D824wBTiMwMjrjybUS2XwJ1_FKyy9WP062_TXlZ-1Sse2UMyCE-/s320/P1080673.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the hospital where I gave birth</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>1. Your partner will not be allowed
in the delivery room</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Most people I've talked to who gave
birth in China told me their husbands were not allowed inside the
delivery room. I was told that my doctor that I would only be
accompanied by nurses during labor. Chinese Potpourri gives a good
account of her experience <a href="http://chinesepotpourri.com/2012/05/catherines-birth-story-2/" target="_blank">here</a>. When I pushed my doctor to allow my
husband to accompany me during labor, she eventually relented. If you
give birth at a private or international hospital, I expect you'll
have more options, but if going local, be prepared for the fact that
you may be giving birth without your significant other.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>2. You may not be offered an
epidural</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't realize that in many
countries, epidurals (spinal anesthesia) aren't standard procedure.
In the US, you practically have to beg NOT to be given one. You will
face eye rolls and questions, “The drugs are available, why not
take them?” This was my attitude before, but after learning I'd be
having a natural labor I educated myself more about going through
labor and delivery without drugs. I now have a better understanding
of why they aren't administered and why some women opt not to have
them. But it is a harsh reality to face if you are expecting them
only to find they are not given, as was my case. Be sure to talk this
over with your doctor. If you will be giving birth naturally, I did
find some solace in the book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mindful-Birthing-Training-Childbirth-Beyond-ebook/dp/B0070XF3LG/ref=dp_kinw_strp_1" target="_blank">Mindful Birthing</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Active-Birth-Revised-Approach-Naturally-ebook/dp/B00BOE0FM4/ref=pd_sim_351_12?ie=UTF8&refRID=0M54F0J05AXNY4WGG74R" target="_blank">Active Birth</a> was a worthy read as well.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>3. You will be allowed to move
somewhat freely as well as eat and drink during (early) labor</b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is a side
note that I found interested. After reading about giving birth
naturally, I learned that it was best to eat and drink during labor
to keep up your strength. It is also good to move around and find
positions most comfortable for you. In the US, since most women are
administered epidurals, they aren't allowed food or drink (only ice
chips, from what I've heard) and are mostly restricted to their bed.
I asked my Chinese doctor about this and she said I was definitely
free to eat, drink, and move about while in labor.</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>4. You may end up with a c-section</b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I spent a lot of
time worrying about who would be in the delivery room with me and how
I was going to get through a natural labor only to end up having an
emergency c-section. My friend who just gave birth also ended up needing an emergency c-section. In China, c-sections are incredibly common and
many women decide to have them electively. In the US, people tend to
look down on them and even the women who have them. I didn't want one
and honestly, I felt (and still feel) like a bit of a failure because
I did. Which is stupid, as I should be grateful to live in a time
when such technology even exists. <i>But the moral of the story is
this:</i> You don't know how your birth will go. You may end up with
a c-section. While it may be the last thing you want, try to learn
some of the basics about what it entails just in case.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>5. Recovery from a c-section sucks</b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As someone who had
a c-section in China, I can tell this, it is rough. I'm sure giving
birth the other way is no walk in the park either, but I can only
attest to the suckiness of a c-section. The day I found out I'd be
having a c-section (the day before I gave birth), I called the only
person I knew back home who had had one. She was a bundle of
positivity. “It's a breeze!” She assured me. “I felt fine by
the second day and I was even up and walking around the first night!”
That is not how it went for me. Not AT all. I was forced to lay flat
on my back, without a pillow, for eight hours after surgery (which is
a torture I would not wish inflicted on anyone; forget bamboo shoots
up the fingernails). I was hooked up to numerous tubes and a machine
to monitor my vitals. I was unable to hold my baby. They tried to set
him on my chest, but it was awkward. There was no way I could try to
breastfeed him. It took two days for me to get out of bed. I
couldn't even make it to the bathroom. I felt weak and pathetic.
Worst of all, I didn't feel like I got to properly bond with my baby.
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know it's not
like this for everyone, not by a long shot. But I write this for
those who prefer to prepare for the worst. I wish I had had a better
idea of what recovery after a c-section would be. For me, the first
two days were utter hell, the third day was awful, and after that it
was much better. It took about two weeks for me to feel comfortable
being myself (as I didn't want to open or infect my incision) and
three months before I dared to do any real exercise.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>6. You will likely be very hot</b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This wasn't much
of a problem for me, as I have birth in April. But for those who give
birth in summer, be prepared. Due to Chinese beliefs about wind and
temperature and all that good stuff, don't expect an air-conditioner
to be turned on. Don't even expect a window to be opened. You can try
begging or just do what you want if you have your own room (you will
get scolded when you are caught).</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>7. Dietary restrictions</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Phase one: If you have a c-section, don't expect to be eating for awhile. After giving birth, I wasn't allowed to have anything until I could manage to pass gas. I think I triumphantly accomplished that on the day after surgery. I was rewarded, by my mother-in-law, with a steaming bowl of turnip soup. It may have been the best thing I've ever tasted. I wasn't allowed any protein or sugars until I had a successful Number 2. Anyone who's had surgery can probably attest to the difficulty of accomplishing that. It didn't happen for me until I was out of the hospital. <br />
<br />
Phase two: Regardless of how you give birth, you may find that you also have to deal with some very
unfamiliar dietary restrictions. This is
particularly true if you or your partner is Chinese. Even if you are
a foreign couple, you may get accosted by the doctors or nurses if
they catch you eating or drinking anything improper. I can't provide
a full list of such items, but the most basic rule of thumb is that
you are expected to eat and drink everything warm. There are lots of
particular foods that are “off limits” but it's nearly impossible
to keep track of them all! This was perhaps one of <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/05/my-addictions.html" target="_blank">the hardest issues for me to deal with</a> postpartum, but I had a rather insistent husband
and mother-in-law.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>8. Differences in handling the baby</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is where things may start to get
emotional. Most parents have a specific way they want their baby
treated after birth. I, for example, didn't want my baby washed off
as there is evidence that it is actually healthier for the baby not
to be cleaned right way. Of course, they bathed William immediately
after birth, despite my wish that they didn't.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4zcMoGZSDKLCe8KypJcUget5fdLUdRvFHNcRilgOCU7XvuBruT_WvOtxQnL6evTzpMakXC37QYECQXsnp_FopoYQLkStJrO6ZwMMw1LDSM3mXD1CxuPCPwuIutI613J9yLAP/s1600/DSC_1585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4zcMoGZSDKLCe8KypJcUget5fdLUdRvFHNcRilgOCU7XvuBruT_WvOtxQnL6evTzpMakXC37QYECQXsnp_FopoYQLkStJrO6ZwMMw1LDSM3mXD1CxuPCPwuIutI613J9yLAP/s320/DSC_1585.JPG" width="320" /></a>While I was uncomfortable with the
idea, I did agree to giving the baby water as that is the practice in
China. Be prepared for doctors and nurses who encourage this. Another
issue, I did not want him to have formula until I had a chance to
work on breastfeeding, but most Chinese people who insist on formula
feeding the baby until a mother is able to properly breastfeed (if
that's what she plans to do). Many western doctors advise against
relying too much on formula (if at all) to mothers who want to
establish proper breastfeeding.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A final issue: clothing. The baby will
be overdressed. In fact, William broke out into hives due to all the
clothes and blankets he was swaddled in after being born! As I wrote
in <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/04/williams-birth-lesson-in-letting-go.html" target="_blank">his birth story</a>, my American baby clothes were deemed completely
inappropriate and my mother-in-law actually ran out to buy him other
baby clothes the very day he was born.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>9. You pay first</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Before any of the prior stuff even can
happen, you need to pay up. Do not expect care in a Chinese hospital
without paying or putting down a sizable deposit first. In my case, I
think we somewhat paid as we went, paying 1000 or 2000 rmb
(US$150-300) when I checked-in and then adding to that after my
surgery. When I checked-out we settled the bill down to the last mao
(cent) and were give a print out of all the charges. My friend, on
the other hand, was told to deposit 5000 rmb (over US$800) into her
patient account before giving birth. The cost of birth can widely
vary, even at a local hospital. At a standard hospital where I live,
a vaginally delivery is about 2500 RMB and a c-section twice that.
Double those figures for the “best” local hospital. In larger
cities or at private hospitals, the cost will probably be more.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>10. You will need someone to mind
you and the baby</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This is last, though it's perhaps the
most important. At a local Chinese hospital, you cannot expect the
nurses to take care of you or the baby. They will only attend to the
most basic of tasks and often only when prompted. I don't say this as
a criticism of them, this is simply how the system works.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Whenever</i> you stay at a local
hospital, you need to be damn sure you have a friend or family member
around to take care of you. You need people to help you change your
clothes, go to the bathroom, bring you food and water, keep an eye on
your IV, etc. After giving birth, the baby will likely be in-room with you and someone must be around to help
feed, change, and hold him. The nurses won't. If you have a
c-section, you physically won't be able to do it. No matter how you
give birth, you will be exhausted and need people around you to help.
If you, for whatever reason, don't have someone, you can hire
someone. In Chengde, the going rate for a 24-hour minder is less than
200 rmb/day (US$30/day). They are called hugong (<span style="font-family: Arial Unicode MS;">护工</span>)
in Chinese and you should be able to ask the hospital staff about
arranging one.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>My final advice: Assume nothing. And
ask lots of questions so there are fewer surprises. My hope is that I
didn't scare anyone by writing this, but provided a realistic view of
some of the experiences you might expect. Remember, most things are
negotiable, so if you try talking to your doctor or nurses, you may
be able to have some things done “your (crazy foreigner) way” but it's easier to
accomplish this if you have such talks before you are actually in
labor! If you have any questions or comments, please post.</i></div>
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-87837303624521143962015-07-01T20:20:00.000-07:002015-07-01T20:22:13.760-07:00Beating the heat in China<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's been awhile since I last published a post. The more time passes, the harder it becomes. Writer's block? No. Laziness? Not exactly. One might say I've been in a bit of a rut, not feeling particularly inspired by anything. Just floating along, allowing each day to run into the next.<br />
<br />
But this morning was somehow different. I felt inspired by red bean popsicles and <a href="http://diariesofayangxifu.com/2015/07/01/dealing-with-the-heat/" target="_blank">a blog post</a>. Their common theme? Dealing with the heat. The way Chinese cope with summer is different from what I'm used to, that I've known since my first summer here. I've learned more as time has passed, particularly last summer during which I had to navigate through a sweltering July while caring for a newborn. I am still not familiar with all the intricacies of Chinese beliefs relating to hot and cold, they are incredible complex, thanks in part to traditional Chinese medicine. On a more superficial level, I do know some of the do's and don'ts of summer. Here is what I (think I) know:<br />
<br />
<b>1. Never expose your stomach, unless you are an overweight middle-aged Chinese man.</b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCgJqrYZ29B_mLJLR_P7KqF3p27TT3XS7hmC_h21i8BSv1BKOZUB0wV-eOxBvCyj7fGOJiUaTeVADG_BtswzyYL_h2AB4oSDrUdX4YuZyKrp7B6VheQmddRvg0WJ-f8Y8uZ7_m/s1600/1403151719141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCgJqrYZ29B_mLJLR_P7KqF3p27TT3XS7hmC_h21i8BSv1BKOZUB0wV-eOxBvCyj7fGOJiUaTeVADG_BtswzyYL_h2AB4oSDrUdX4YuZyKrp7B6VheQmddRvg0WJ-f8Y8uZ7_m/s320/1403151719141.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William in a dudou.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Last summer, when the thermometer hit the 30's (that's around the neighborhood of 85-95, my Fahrenheit friends), I was planning on letting William lay around in a diaper. I was immediately shot down. "You can't leave his stomach exposed! It's bad for his <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qi" target="_blank">qi</a>!" both my husband and mother-in-law exclaimed. In other words, not wearing a shirt would be bad for his life force. Who can argue with that? Instead of going topless, William sported a dùdōu (肚兜) for most of the summer. Dùdōus are popular among kids and even (supermodel thin) young women. They are designed like an apron so that the front is covered and back is open, with strings that tie around the neck and waist.<br />
<br />
For reasons I have yet to understand, it is okay for men to walk around with their stomachs out. I'd think that this would leave their qi vulnerable, but it only leaves them looking ridiculous. Now I can very much appreciate a man without his shirt on. Moreover, I'm a realist and don't expect men to have rock hard abs. I do understand the desire to let the beer gut out for a breather from time to time and that's all good. But I just can't get behind the Beijing Bikini (as it's affectionately called) which is a summer "style" popular among a certain set of Chinese men. The Beijing Bikini requires the wearer to roll up his t-shirt well above the navel, often resting on top of the protruding gut, leaving his entire midsection flapping in the wind. Why not fully commit to going shirtless and take it all off? That's the sensible thing to do and it looks better, no matter what the physique.<br />
<br />
<b>2. Eat popsicles with abandon but only if you are strong enough for it.</b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45tzU3USM8mKJu8D58jlzrVRjoUDiXE6mxg56Ouihnfznc04LXlFWBsli9Qw07gYMnIi_CxkOhydjBoTkBVxi3s9FmSuK9a3JJeCf0mHkziiUZww0FUeaISy2_lFnZfffqWIf/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45tzU3USM8mKJu8D58jlzrVRjoUDiXE6mxg56Ouihnfznc04LXlFWBsli9Qw07gYMnIi_CxkOhydjBoTkBVxi3s9FmSuK9a3JJeCf0mHkziiUZww0FUeaISy2_lFnZfffqWIf/s320/photo.JPG" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William enjoying a red bean popsicle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I am a lover of ice cream and enjoy popsicles from time to time. Quite frankly, I'm suspicious of anyone who says they don't like such treats (along with the weirdos who don't like chocolate). The quality of Chinese popsicles is often questionable, but what they lack in fine ingredients and hygiene, they make up for in flavor intrigue. You can find everything from taro to corn, green bean to hawthorn. One of the most popular flavors among locals is red bean, which also happens to be William's favorite. One of my Chinese friends explained to me that red bean is considered a "warm" food which helps neutralize the coldness of the ice, making such popsicles less harmful to the stomach.<br />
<br />
There is a lot of concern over the temperature of foods and drinks, as well as if a food is considered "warm" or "cold" (this has nothing to do with actual temperature but relates to Chinese traditional medicine). We have been scolded, usually by strangers, for allowing William to eat popsicles and they are considered too cold for babies whose bodies are still weak. Those who are menstruating, recovering from an illness, or practicing zuo yuezi must also not indulge in cold desserts. <br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>3. NEVER walk barefoot, especially if you are a woman.</b><br />
This is a lesson I learned early on and has become one of the things I miss most about home. I look forward to the day I can kick off my shoes and walk barefoot through the soft grass during summer. I have been chastised for going about barefoot or even in socks in my home. I have been told I may catch a cold and that it may lead to stomach cancer in women. While I think it's total nonsense, I have put this on my list of "battles I rather not fight" (it's currently a very long list).<b> </b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTnY64XkOjPdiMlUcFMmIk0xFu_RT6nEb0l6WBSBrNK57XcmqjUwmUv94tSGo-yg6UnvzBL33du5jHMGR4k4B2JMW0K6rqpprFbYHsobEpSrl2YEW_XjMempvMf6OhsrTYJ_pO/s1600/TB1ncBoHFXXXXapXpXXXXXXXXXX_%2521%25210-item_pic.jpg_220x220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTnY64XkOjPdiMlUcFMmIk0xFu_RT6nEb0l6WBSBrNK57XcmqjUwmUv94tSGo-yg6UnvzBL33du5jHMGR4k4B2JMW0K6rqpprFbYHsobEpSrl2YEW_XjMempvMf6OhsrTYJ_pO/s1600/TB1ncBoHFXXXXapXpXXXXXXXXXX_%2521%25210-item_pic.jpg_220x220.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Summer Sneakers" photo via taobao</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><br /></b>
Instead of going barefoot, most Chinese people purchase summer shoes. This is a concept I'm still a little foggy on. I always considered sandals to be my summer shoes and when I needed something with a bit more coverage and support, I'd wear my regular sneakers. While many Chinese people do wear sandals, it is also popular to buy a pair of "summer sneakers" which are lighter and more breathable than "winter sneakers." My husband nags me every summer to buy "summer sneakers" but I'm perfectly happy with the shoes I already have. He frets over my feet, claiming they will be too warm, but I manage to convince him that my feet really don't know the difference.<br />
<br />
<b>4. Use the air-conditioner sparingly and only if you are strong enough for it.</b><br />
It gets very hot and incredibly humid in many parts of China during the summer. Despite it's reputation for being a cool respite for Beijingers, Chengde is also uncomfortably warm in July and August. I admit to letting my air-conditioner run all day, most days, during those two months. Last summer, however, our AC got a bit of a break and my CO2 foot print got ever slightly smaller. Come early July, despite us all being dripping in sweat by mid-morning, my mother-in-law was vehemently opposed to any AC usage. My husband and I would turn it on secretly on the days she didn't come over, but eventually it became so hot that we won her over. She agreed to using it sparingly. I'm under the impression that older Chinese believe air conditioning to be harmful, particularly when weaklings (such as babies) are exposed to it. I'm not sure what I think, but when the indoor temperature creeps near 30 degrees and all I can think about is how miserable I am, I'd rather just turn it on.<br />
<br />
<b>5. Shave your (baby's) head</b> <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTjx5EQl694tfddWUEyp-g_T5IxlPgNEdanRCllhuqvHB8We9Q2Pj7VoUwd_p7OOXRhrvkB1c0DGvam_9PqgB9daRjXUad2HLSTMGLoJosvukDfe2Yd2AJLyO0_v8rsSTGrkQ/s1600/P1090438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTjx5EQl694tfddWUEyp-g_T5IxlPgNEdanRCllhuqvHB8We9Q2Pj7VoUwd_p7OOXRhrvkB1c0DGvam_9PqgB9daRjXUad2HLSTMGLoJosvukDfe2Yd2AJLyO0_v8rsSTGrkQ/s320/P1090438.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bald William with my friend, Marie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I put it off as long as I could, though I knew it was inevitable. . . the baby head shave. Many Chinese babies have their heads shaved as infants, as it is a widely held belief that shaving the head with allow the hair to come back in much fuller. In fact, I have one friend who claims her hair is thin and stringy (it's actually beautifully thick and lush, but there's no telling her that) because her mom failed to shave her hair off as a newborn. I compromised with my husband and mother-in-law, agreeing to William's first buzz cut after he turned one. Chinese toddlers, both male and female, usually sport a buzz during summer. I find it very odd, as American toddlers, even boys, rarely have shaved heads. But it's only hair and I can see how being without it during summer would be comfortable. Nevertheless, I was quite shocked to see William after his first haircut. It's been two months now and it is growing back nicely; my mother-in-law is very quick to point out how thick it is. <br />
<br />
<i>Do you have any tips for dealing with the heat?</i><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-14538100720265487172015-04-19T21:23:00.000-07:002015-04-20T06:57:03.483-07:00Cultural Differences: Chinese in America<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I enjoy reading about other people's experiences living as a foreigner in Asia, particularly in China. But so rarely do I get to hear about what it's like for Chinese people living in western countries. A few of my Chinese friends are currently living abroad and I love hearing their opinions and reactions to living life in the west. It makes me see my own culture in a whole new light. It sometimes even allows me to appreciate some aspects of western life I take for granted.<br />
<br />
When Ming and I went to the US, back in 2007, some strange and funny things happened. The way Ming interpreted and saw the world was very different. I guess this can mostly be chalked up to different customs and culture in the US and China. I found some of this misunderstandings adorable but also enlightening. I thought I'd share three that I'll never forget.<br />
<br />
<b>1. Kissing</b><br />
When we first arrived in the US, we stayed with a friend of ours, K, for a week. While at first glance, you might assume K is a born and breed American, you'd eventually realize she is not. Her family is from Hungary, where she was born and spent most of her childhood. Of course, many of their customs and habits are more Hungarian than American. For example, in Hungary, hellos and good-byes are accompanied by a two-cheeked kiss. K's family were naturally avid givers of the two-cheeked kiss and we quickly learned to play along, always meeting and greeting with lots of kisses.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9TkHOcbb2gBGOa6A8PenixWokhSpkXCLqdQHQjJcWcdGkqQUN8OY7WIMR8r-nTPqUkTctaVBfxUcEDZu4XZo2LsuajnCM5ydIfuV1b2avkCSAqr3UCEJ6opxpjvFQTXSDr95/s1600/1929309_550044868778_6767_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9TkHOcbb2gBGOa6A8PenixWokhSpkXCLqdQHQjJcWcdGkqQUN8OY7WIMR8r-nTPqUkTctaVBfxUcEDZu4XZo2LsuajnCM5ydIfuV1b2avkCSAqr3UCEJ6opxpjvFQTXSDr95/s1600/1929309_550044868778_6767_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ming, security guard, M&M, and I in NYC; 2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Fast-forward a week or two later, to when Ming was meeting my cousin, B. (<i>Do you see where this is going?</i>) He approached her, seemingly going for a hug, but before she knew what hit her, he gave her the two-cheeked kiss. She looked over at me in surprise and laughed, "So this must be how they do it in China?"<br />
<br />
"No," I replied. "That's how they do it in Hungary."<br />
<br />
I later explained to Ming that in the US, a handshake or hug is standard greeting procedure. In most circles, a kiss is reserved mostly for lovers, occasionally for parents or grandparents, but very rarely for your fiance's cousin.<br />
<br />
<b>2. Free Refills</b><br />
When I first told Ming about free refills, he could hardly wrap his head around the idea. "So you can buy a drink and just keep refilling it? As many times as you want?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, that's the idea," I confirmed.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy48-yJkRd5ebmJGjPed_BOlWkfCgbXjB-3N-FC9Uy3bju4-MNgXSE2PD-9eDeCVpd3ADaHNyBD542JrYvIc2D_-XipOe9n596cX-lc9Aph6xcIiqlCQbE0qpAgDdbGV5ukRMM/s1600/1909709_553760647328_101_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy48-yJkRd5ebmJGjPed_BOlWkfCgbXjB-3N-FC9Uy3bju4-MNgXSE2PD-9eDeCVpd3ADaHNyBD542JrYvIc2D_-XipOe9n596cX-lc9Aph6xcIiqlCQbE0qpAgDdbGV5ukRMM/s1600/1909709_553760647328_101_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">us with Usingers sausages, downtown Milwaukee; 2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"Why would anyone ever leave when they could sit and drink soda all day?" he asked in earnest.<br />
<br />
I curled up my nose, "Because that's disgusting and most people have other things to do."<br />
<br />
Once we arrived in the land of free refills, Ming had already gotten used to the idea. He was no longer that impressed. But he did usually go for a second cup of soda when the opportunity arose.<br />
<br />
One day we went out to eat at a diner with my grandma. The waitress came around, asking if we'd like refills on any of our drinks.<br />
<br />
"Oh, yes!" Ming told her. He then stood up and started following her <b>behind the counter</b>. I watched in amazement. Not sure what would be more awkward, shouting for him to come back or letting him fill up his own glass, I finally decided just to let him go. The waitress, who I probably have known since birth (my grandparents loved taking me to that diner), let him do his thing. I don't know if she was as flabbergasted as me or wanted to be polite.<br />
<br />
When he came back, my grandma and I looked at each other. Who was going to explain this one?<br />
<br />
"Um, Ming, when the soda fountain is behind the counter, you can't serve yourself. The waitress will do it for you. Customers can't go back there."<br />
<br />
He took it in stride. He wasn't embarrassed. He was just happy to have his refill. It's all about the little things in life, right?<br />
<br />
<b>3. Stuck in the snow</b><br />
Where I'm from in the US, it snows. It snows a lot. In the winter they have to fill up the parking lots of supermarkets with all the extra snow--there's nowhere else to put it. Everyone owns snow shovels, but many have snow blowers, some have snow plows. It is essentially to stock up early on salt. Snow tires and blankets are a good idea for the car. But even with the best preparations, bad things still happen. People get snowed into their homes, slip on sidewalks, and spin off the road. And when such a problem arises, you are almost guaranteed someone will help you, most often times a stranger passing by.<br />
<br />
Nearly every winter, I have gotten my car stuck in the snow. It seems almost inevitable. And every time, someone took the time to stop and help me. One such situation occurred when I was out with Ming, downtown by the courthouse, getting our marriage license. We couldn't get out of our parking spot due to the snow. First a random woman stopped to help us, then a man joined her. Ming and the two passer-bys pushed the car while I hit the gas. Within seconds, we were freed from the parking spot. Easy enough, but something we couldn't have done alone. Ming hugged (thank goodness it wasn't a double-cheek kiss!) the man and the woman, thanking them before they walked away.<br />
<br />
He got in the car, "How do you know them?" He asked. <br />
<br />
"Know them? I don't know them. . . " I answered, a bit confused.<br />
<br />
Then he looked confused. "So why did they help us?"<br />
<br />
"Because that's what people here do," I explained.<br />
<br />
It made me think. It was awfully kind that they stopped and helped us. Wisconsinites are nice.<br />
<br />
<i>Has anyone every made you see your habits or customs from a different viewpoint?</i><br />
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-46761189441410044622015-04-16T07:03:00.002-07:002015-04-16T07:03:16.701-07:00First First Birthday Bash: Zhua Zhou and Smash Cake<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMwUdbP59HlYD4E0sHtXX-AmU99qvAwq8S-zNUqAB3k2NMsRleeYjaVBW_UyFBU-I_oYyeMtKsUvF2UJ7hMDOet_6op98jQviUNZ66UShc-oEFv3tBNhbekMDGMJnxIqzaaO4/s1600/DSC_3665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMwUdbP59HlYD4E0sHtXX-AmU99qvAwq8S-zNUqAB3k2NMsRleeYjaVBW_UyFBU-I_oYyeMtKsUvF2UJ7hMDOet_6op98jQviUNZ66UShc-oEFv3tBNhbekMDGMJnxIqzaaO4/s1600/DSC_3665.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William's first birthday</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Growing up, I didn't get a birthday party every year. In fact, I didn't get a birthday party most years. Now that I'm older, I get why my mom planned it this way. Birthday parties are a ton of work and if you aren't careful you will spend each year trying to outdo your last year's self while your children become less appreciative and more entitled. I've realized it's a slippery slope that may ultimately lead me to a nervous breakdown in a pile of crepe paper. No thanks.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCPXg0qixCXG4Ec5kalpL8vu2JssdybrdEyL7w2uWTwL5cm1yirDKzIXikUuKJPMwUTG8seTNf3wP6KGM2g6z6Ayow2LhUWHHRmN6iADv-xiYznNYLEBh30JvQAeljzFph9eN/s1600/DSC_3978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCPXg0qixCXG4Ec5kalpL8vu2JssdybrdEyL7w2uWTwL5cm1yirDKzIXikUuKJPMwUTG8seTNf3wP6KGM2g6z6Ayow2LhUWHHRmN6iADv-xiYznNYLEBh30JvQAeljzFph9eN/s1600/DSC_3978.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Would you like some cake?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The situation in China is ideal for me, since birthdays aren't that big of a deal. As with Christmas, I am free to celebrate how I want. Ping has always gotten dinner, a few gifts, and a homemade cake for her big day. Nothing excessive. And I promised myself William's birthday would be equally as low-key. He's turning one for Pete's sake. It's not like he's going to remember it! This was all the practical side of me talking.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsTuYunpXyW_DmPl0U82TMNE8_1GRvXO-D9TkI1FUh2q-vuhWTJw63Ii9fr5_IOZZZNpe9qriX5yUfNkB2MKJuos_zO7hzhpQDyD1eRfipsUVBXtTa1GysPCDqoW_RMSV6_Hx/s1600/DSC_3856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsTuYunpXyW_DmPl0U82TMNE8_1GRvXO-D9TkI1FUh2q-vuhWTJw63Ii9fr5_IOZZZNpe9qriX5yUfNkB2MKJuos_zO7hzhpQDyD1eRfipsUVBXtTa1GysPCDqoW_RMSV6_Hx/s1600/DSC_3856.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with mom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then came out Mrs. Sentimental. . . . But he's turning one! This only happens once! And if we're really being honest, celebrating isn't really for his benefit, it's for ours. We deserve a cake and a couple of beers to celebrate that fact that we kept a tiny baby alive for twelve months without killing each other. So it was decided. Sentiment and beer won. First birthday festivities there would be, and not only that, they would happen twice. Such is the way in a country that can't decide which calendar to use--Gregorian (western calendar) or lunar. <br />
<br />
First up, today, William's western birthday which I consider his Real Birthday (sssh, don't tell Chinese grandma). That falls, every year, on April 16th. Easy enough. But then there's his "Chinese birthday" which falls on the 17th day of the 3rd lunar month. Good luck figuring out when that is. I know this year it will fall sometime in May.<br />
<br />
For his Real Birthday, we (I) decided to do a little East meets West. We were going to incorporate the centuries old Chinese tradition of zhua zhou (抓周, zhuā zhōu, meaning something along the lines of "first birthday grab") with the not-even-decade-old American tradition of the <a href="http://www.today.com/parents/smash-cake-trend-all-rage-baby-birthday-parties-1D79956770" target="_blank">smash cake</a>. <i>Zhua zhou? Smash cake?</i> For those unfamiliar, let me tell you more. . . . <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Gd4tT8voxDRA-wnELGpOCdNf_7fOXwyOgjfoonGSJ9OROyAdz5EIxAUGXYTU_uY6Hjj7MSLNIYxSKnuX78WM3GkHGptxpB35SD9bFqzCh3NM0tuNURrl-ceL6_hDfLxZQ_ux/s1600/DSC_3742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Gd4tT8voxDRA-wnELGpOCdNf_7fOXwyOgjfoonGSJ9OROyAdz5EIxAUGXYTU_uY6Hjj7MSLNIYxSKnuX78WM3GkHGptxpB35SD9bFqzCh3NM0tuNURrl-ceL6_hDfLxZQ_ux/s1600/DSC_3742.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William taking a break from zhua zhou</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
East: Zhua zhou is an ancient Chinese tradition that dates back to, well, I don't remember. As with pretty much everything in China, it has a long history that has evolved. In the past, zhua zhou was a big deal and believed to reveal an infant's personality traits and predict his future career. Today some people still do it, but just for fun. To practice zhua zhou, you set a number of select items in front of the baby, either on a tray or on the floor, and see which one he favors. Each item symbolizes a particular trait or career. William picked up many of the items, but he preferred the mandarin orange and a spoon. Much to his father's disappointment, he showed zero interest in money. But that's okay, because he still made a very wise decision in picking the mandarin. The Chinese word for mandarin orange (橘, jú) is a near-homophone for the word auspicious (吉, jí). Picking the orange is obviously very lucky. The spoon symbolizes a love for food and a possible career as a chef. For more information on zhua zhou, there is short but informative article <a href="http://www.beijing-kids.com/magazine/2007/12/03/The-Zhua-Zhou-Way" target="_blank">here</a>. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilULVqyOVYTU8oRUqL55UFFfzi6p_vyd-M-5mnOSMvOITW-DyKKxxE4-c2_UFc-qD59SrhKgvBbtVx_TVwPn5InZC5tapWOOFMqvQUQ3cg-tMMjwPW-12R1D4G1YGjGSTWmj5J/s1600/DSC_3910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilULVqyOVYTU8oRUqL55UFFfzi6p_vyd-M-5mnOSMvOITW-DyKKxxE4-c2_UFc-qD59SrhKgvBbtVx_TVwPn5InZC5tapWOOFMqvQUQ3cg-tMMjwPW-12R1D4G1YGjGSTWmj5J/s1600/DSC_3910.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cake and Smash Cake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
West: Smash cake, I suppose it is pretty self-explanatory. You put a whole cake in front of your one-year-old baby and watch him smash it, smear it, and maybe even eat it. It's ridiculous and wasteful, but ultimately adorable. Plus, everyone's doing it these days. Some people buy elaborate cakes and hire photographers to choreograph the whole event. Though I would like to, I won't make fun of these people since I essentially did the same thing. <br />
<br />
William's cakes were made by my incredibly talented friend, Miao Miao, who is the owner of <a href="http://weibo.com/giraffecafe" target="_blank">Giraffe Cafe</a> in Chengde. I gave her free creative reign over the cake decorating and she did not disappoint. The big cake (for the grown-ups to eat) features a horse banner, since William was born in the Year of the Horse. She also made a decorative William look-alike surrounded by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sycee" target="_blank">gold ingots</a> (元宝, yuánbǎo, a symbol of prosperity in China). Miao Miao also served as our photographer.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5gcy_Fx9O-oR5RgacAJWe5nEChCtF126zc6Rtv_fL5OgJlcQRbj_yyBb2_39-bxahPCgSFoLTpZuOuxv4bKi32GBwxiyLvtKyEhDaf773q-KI_s9i9GPouzXTdSd_bT6HoFGw/s1600/DSC_3739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5gcy_Fx9O-oR5RgacAJWe5nEChCtF126zc6Rtv_fL5OgJlcQRbj_yyBb2_39-bxahPCgSFoLTpZuOuxv4bKi32GBwxiyLvtKyEhDaf773q-KI_s9i9GPouzXTdSd_bT6HoFGw/s1600/DSC_3739.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William's zhua zhou</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
William's Second First Birthday will be, as mentioned, in May. We won't be doing too much, most likely a lunch or dinner with family members which seems to be a pretty standard practice where we live. I hope to post some photos for that as well.<br />
<br />
<i>What about you? Do you celebrate any interesting birthday traditions?</i> <i>Have you ever celebrated a birthday in a foreign country?</i><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0WjInwe0V0TKh0_mInFAvoLatKxPfJHZyaW_4EjBEKnPnqjZvBCrEyqq7z0Y_NWFvvAdzi54CNl91Zdp3gCkW3OvIwBc0xYVSQ3RBCnPsbv_XYIQ0V9WxmIW1V2fgr-6cSY6u/s1600/DSC_3956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0WjInwe0V0TKh0_mInFAvoLatKxPfJHZyaW_4EjBEKnPnqjZvBCrEyqq7z0Y_NWFvvAdzi54CNl91Zdp3gCkW3OvIwBc0xYVSQ3RBCnPsbv_XYIQ0V9WxmIW1V2fgr-6cSY6u/s1600/DSC_3956.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cake smashing</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-71955396111279004092015-04-14T23:45:00.001-07:002015-04-14T23:49:27.625-07:00Speaking up for elephants<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ming and I visited his cousin recently. On the table set a Buddhist-style necklace, somewhat similar in design to the one pictured below. I don't know much about this type of jewelery, but it's widely popular around China, particularly with men. My husband generally doesn't wear this sort of thing, but he likes holding it and turning it round through his hands, like one might do with a rosary. These sorts of necklaces and bracelets can be made out of anything from cheap plastic beads to jade to walnuts (the Chinese seem to have a national obsession with decorative walnuts). Unless you are familiar with them, it can be hard to judge the value of such an item by looking at it. Personally, I can't tell the different between a 10 yuan (US$1.50) bracelet or a 10,000 yuan one. Anyways, it's not really my style. But Ming holds a keen interest.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguz2GxbkYM_QMD6a3x1NUd5ExS_qIYdpDoP4amdyyEHDP_BaxslxJg4F0NUDjsz9zWcNXe2LQZmaPAeAQD_06ZWPolSJbcoOR7YcXgpr7y78Ja-7MV3wE2DR46lBx6sq9v0ODW/s1600/TB1TEDuGpXXXXcSXFXXXXXXXXXX_!!0-item_pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguz2GxbkYM_QMD6a3x1NUd5ExS_qIYdpDoP4amdyyEHDP_BaxslxJg4F0NUDjsz9zWcNXe2LQZmaPAeAQD_06ZWPolSJbcoOR7YcXgpr7y78Ja-7MV3wE2DR46lBx6sq9v0ODW/s1600/TB1TEDuGpXXXXcSXFXXXXXXXXXX_!!0-item_pic.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo via Taobao</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
"Is this made from real elephant tusk?" he asked his cousin, upon spotting the necklace which was made most of dark beads but featured a large ivory colored piece.<br />
<br />
"Uh, no, that thing only cost 30 yuan," he admitted sheepishly.<br />
<br />
"My co-worker got one in Thailand, made from real tusks," Ming said, as if boasting on behalf of his colleague.<br />
<br />
I inwardly cringed. I hate this sort of thing. I really do. I'm not usually one to take a hardline stance on issues. I like to fence-sit, play diplomat, see both sides. Not only that, I do readily admit, I am a carnivore. I also have no qualms with people hunting (deer hunting is a rite of passage where I'm from). But when it comes to the killing of exotic or endangered animals for decoration, medicines, or show-offy menu items (<a href="http://www.stopsharkfinning.net/shark-fin-soup-whats-the-scoop/" target="_blank">shark fin soup</a>, anyone?), my blood kinda boils. I had to speak up.<br />
<br />
"People shouldn't buy that sort of thing, they have no quality of character!" I exclaimed quite suddenly, passionately. All eyes turned to me.<br />
<br />
"Well, if it's just one person, it's not such a big of a deal," Ming's cousin reasoned.<br />
<br />
"But the problem is everyone has that thinking. And one person becomes all of China," I explained, "The African elephant is killed all the time for its tusks. At this rate, soon none will be left."<br />
<br />
The room went silent. I don't know if I stunned them with my sudden outburst, but I didn't care. The discomfort in the room was better than me saying nothing. After we left, I asked Ming if he thought I offended them.<br />
<br />
"I don't know," he replied, "but you were right in what you said." He put his arm around me.<br />
<br />
I know it takes a long time to change people's mindsets. Issues like these, that some people actually dedicate much of their time and energy to, seem odd and pointless to many Chinese. <i>What does it matter? They are just animals. What can I do about it anyways? I am just one person.</i> But things are changing. I know they are. When I talked to some of my teenage students, I can hear the concern in their voices. They worry about the environment and wildlife. In Beijing, I have also spotted ads by International Fund for Animal Welfare, trying to get the message out to the masses. Here's one such ad: <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3T18srfDPWZc2l5pPQnU5SZDUCvPoChcm8-k8bqoU5LFln0onO6RNdu4Duo5H1q7xCPYXmtsuk6lhis7qM8xZ3o3h2CNskta68gywfZqUHA-QSHPEzICHBCMGyCZR-1UmyWS/s1600/d5556ac23f48e7f567867f771b7e6b44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3T18srfDPWZc2l5pPQnU5SZDUCvPoChcm8-k8bqoU5LFln0onO6RNdu4Duo5H1q7xCPYXmtsuk6lhis7qM8xZ3o3h2CNskta68gywfZqUHA-QSHPEzICHBCMGyCZR-1UmyWS/s1600/d5556ac23f48e7f567867f771b7e6b44.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo via 163.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
The top four characters, which aren't fully written and seem to be splattered with blood, are "Elephants, Tigers, Bears, Humans." Under the characters, it asks, "If elephants are without tusks, <a href="http://bigcatrescue.org/chinese-medicine-societies-reject-use-of-tiger-bones-2/" target="_blank">tigers are without bones</a>, <a href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/unleashed/2010/11/bear-gall-bladder-uses.html" target="_blank">bears are without gallbladders</a>, what are humans without? Humanity?" It then urges people to say "no" to buying of such wildlife products. Putting this sort of message out it the first step in getting people to think, to talk about wildlife protection and preservation. And it does it much more eloquently than my diatribes--hopefully soon there will be little need for them.<br />
<br />
<i>What about you, are there any issues that you feel passionate about? Are there any practices you've witnessed in other countries that bother you?</i></div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23859102.post-52421353760708276272015-04-09T20:26:00.000-07:002015-04-09T20:26:59.785-07:00Having a Baby in China: One Year Later<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPIxbfLI9vjROF4higAV_OYy3X9UYoEG7L5ZIRt6OwiX3y4YJvgnpdZI2-0eAzKkcJnJ2WdJQIZ9na3_LXQzMsqoXpsW1XprqsS_4fQE4D2-ewCqpPDCiRWiOQLz7jVFnYHOhz/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPIxbfLI9vjROF4higAV_OYy3X9UYoEG7L5ZIRt6OwiX3y4YJvgnpdZI2-0eAzKkcJnJ2WdJQIZ9na3_LXQzMsqoXpsW1XprqsS_4fQE4D2-ewCqpPDCiRWiOQLz7jVFnYHOhz/s1600/photo.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William on his birth day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
William is just a week away from turning one. While I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it, there were times when I longed for this. I couldn't wait for him to get a little bit older, a little bit stronger, a little bit more independent. The past few months, I let go of that feeling. I've enjoyed him as he is, not too expectant of the future. Time really has gone by quickly. The past year has been hard though, perhaps the most difficult of my life. I knew being a mother would be challenging and it is, but the true challenge has been adapting to motherhood while living in China. I have learned a lot. Here are some of the things I've learned:<br />
<br />
<b>1. I'm not as open minded as I thought I was.</b><br />
Admittedly, I was somewhat aware of this fact coming in. I knew I wouldn't be open to do everything The Chinese Way. I still struggle with this one. Does that make me closed-minded? Or does it just make me human? It doesn't matter, if I hear the phrase <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/04/when-in-rome.html" target="_blank">"When in Rome. . ."</a> one more time, I might strangle someone.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0LbwGAc-BZL1YmrpZnRC608jJAfHtrTBcIcqJrlrMPb7R9GHnwK_1JXxEXVijnecqQyByPW86j7hC4HZ-5T52Mf8_eGGT9exHbKSVxXQN-pSgZjM8uNagTmasmY1B-fnCVxma/s1600/4F1A2074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0LbwGAc-BZL1YmrpZnRC608jJAfHtrTBcIcqJrlrMPb7R9GHnwK_1JXxEXVijnecqQyByPW86j7hC4HZ-5T52Mf8_eGGT9exHbKSVxXQN-pSgZjM8uNagTmasmY1B-fnCVxma/s1600/4F1A2074.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William, 100 days</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I have compromised on some issues, such as allowing William to drink water from birth (a Chinese practice that is not supported by western doctors). I attempted <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/05/week-three.html" target="_blank">postpartum confinement</a>. I haven't been so keen on <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/08/split-seamed-pants-and-trash-cans-potty.html" target="_blank">split-seamed pants </a>and spoon feeding Prince William his every meal. I have been downright skeptical, even hostile, towards Chinese doctors and medicines, as many of their claims seem bogus. I maintain that my son did not have diarrhea from my breast milk (tainted from my drinking of cold beverages). He did not break out in hives because he was left "crying too much." I could write at length about my frustrations with the Chinese medical system, but I rather not dwell too long on that.<br />
<br />
<b>2. Nothing goes as expected.</b><br />
This is a given when living in China. It's also a given when raising kids, especially small ones. Put the two together and unless you have the patience of a saint, there may be times you'll be ripping your hair out. For better or worse, <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/04/williams-birth-lesson-in-letting-go.html" target="_blank">William's birth was nothing like I had imagined</a>. Preparing for our trip to America was not without difficulty. But there were also times when things went surprisingly well, like when arranging his household registration, getting him vaccinated, and taking his portrait.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUII37pCMydPM3gvyC7wbZWl4feFa1xqw5RNTECh4xU2he_orkSPjLaLYaBrxvNVZB0k3G4A8WnhKvryjPVtPAelqOBWD0eAW2oRpNyG_YMS6plH31lf-RNfjwOsIYIgZefPlv/s1600/DSC_1167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUII37pCMydPM3gvyC7wbZWl4feFa1xqw5RNTECh4xU2he_orkSPjLaLYaBrxvNVZB0k3G4A8WnhKvryjPVtPAelqOBWD0eAW2oRpNyG_YMS6plH31lf-RNfjwOsIYIgZefPlv/s1600/DSC_1167.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William, 4 months.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>3. My Chinese may never be good enough.</b><br />
I think some of my struggles stem from the fact that I don't fully appreciate or understand traditional Chinese culture and thinking (a problem even modern Chinese have), but it's also a language issue. Living in a small city, I don't have the luxury of western hospitals or English speaking doctors. My mother-in-law knows four words in English (hello, no, out, banana) and even my husband's English is lacking, especially when it comes to baby and medical related vocab. I've tried my best, fumbling by, now knowing Chinese words for things such as placenta, polio, episiotomy, and pacifier (there is a pretty extensive list of pregnancy related vocab that can be found <a href="http://www.havingababyinchina.com/pregnancy-vocab/" target="_blank">here</a>). But it's still never enough. I always feel like the language is passing over me, leaving me in the dust. I suppose one day the kids will be fluent enough that they can help smooth out some of the gaps.<br />
<br />
<b>4. My relationship with my mother-in-law is a precarious thing. </b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwrcI7id5ViFWjUhNzLkdj_qZG5T8k0v-yzfE8ko6xMuWn9Qy29XUUZwaewLBBjNun2j39Cg0QNlDiVxTq1-o4TTiJzl6eIPutyWnMVZTdXG11WfhrReej8GopOoHEXDRtWOP3/s1600/DSC_0886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwrcI7id5ViFWjUhNzLkdj_qZG5T8k0v-yzfE8ko6xMuWn9Qy29XUUZwaewLBBjNun2j39Cg0QNlDiVxTq1-o4TTiJzl6eIPutyWnMVZTdXG11WfhrReej8GopOoHEXDRtWOP3/s1600/DSC_0886.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William, 6 months</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I've said it before and I will say it again, <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/10/my-mother-in-law.html" target="_blank">my mother-in-law</a> <i>is a great woman</i> (despite using the phrase, "When in Rome. . ." a few too many times). She was never around much before the baby was born, but with his arrival I've spent countless hours with her. We have very different parenting styles. She is a helicopter (grand)parent, while I'm more of a <a href="http://www.webmd.com/parenting/features/free-range-parenting" target="_blank">free-ranger</a>. While she has the best of intentions, I am, at times, overwhelmed by her constant hoovering and pampering. In some of my weaker and uglier moments, I have lost my temper. I may have even done some yelling (you might too if you weren't allowed cold food or drink, <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2014/05/my-addictions.html" target="_blank">chocolates, or coffee</a> for months on end). I think the situation is improving as William is getting older, but I still find myself having to bite my tongue daily.<br />
<br />
<b>5. Everything I thought was normal, is seen as weird or wrong.</b><br />
<i>Breast pumps? High chairs? Disposable diapers?</i> Frivolous crazy talk.<br />
<br />
<i>Letting the baby crawl around? Letting him put something, anything in his mouth? Letting him eat with his hands? </i>The insanity! That's not sanitary!<br />
<br />
<i>Allowing him to cry, to fall, to feel the slightest bit of discomfort?</i> You can't be serious.<br />
<br />
<b>6. What homesickness really feels like</b><br />
It was never that hard for me to be away from US. . . until it was. Feeling homesick was completely unexpected and a feeling that I haven't fully been able to shake this past year. I am, in some ways, grateful for it. Now I feel more confident that we are nearing the right time for us to leave China.<b> </b><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9Jl0Zc9mto_Le4VLFqLjLUZz74OrLQOhbL1Unls7MPBwuerV4wQ9frJ2M12SUoD6Q07iAH-8Hqga7FuG36XW452VvQa1Tat0GAXgmglPriTMOv7-RllIloWmcpYPCSlZGHlj/s1600/DSC_1645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9Jl0Zc9mto_Le4VLFqLjLUZz74OrLQOhbL1Unls7MPBwuerV4wQ9frJ2M12SUoD6Q07iAH-8Hqga7FuG36XW452VvQa1Tat0GAXgmglPriTMOv7-RllIloWmcpYPCSlZGHlj/s1600/DSC_1645.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William, 9 months</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>7. We are celebrities</b><br />
For many foreigners, <a href="http://rosieinbj.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-celebrity-status.html" target="_blank">being showered with attention</a> is not uncommon in China. Some people bask in the limelight, others would rather just blend in with the crowd. Myself, it depends on my mood. But strangers don't care about my mood. I might be out, having My Worst China Day Ever and people will freely comment on how my son is under dressed. We may be chased down and asked if we are Russian. A crowd may gather around us, pointing, commenting, and asking questions. I try to take it in stride. Sometimes their interest makes me happy, as the alternative could just as easily be contempt. There are those who hate seeing foreigners, people who despise mixed race families. Fortunately, these types of people are very rarely found in China. Most Chinese adore children and are particularly curious about foreign or mixed raced ones. <br />
<br />
<b>As a final note</b>:<br />
To anyone reading this who is planning on having or
raising kids in China, be prepared for challenges, some obvious, others may be less so. Try to be
patient with yourself and with your partner. If you can, try to learn a
little bit about the culture and whatever you can manage with the
language. Be realistic with your expectations and be honest with
yourself--what customs and beliefs are you willing to compromise on and
what<b> </b>is non-negotiable? My situation and struggles may be vastly different from yours. If I were an American man married to a Chinese woman, living in Beijing, I probably would have a total different experience raising my kids in China. But no matter what, it's an adventure!<br />
<br />
<i>Are you raising your kids abroad? Or is it something you would ever consider doing?</i> <b> </b><br />
<b> </b> <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHqrQlLYL22RW-ci7Db1vKPHWraj4FJja0zQeBsYzHfyqqaLkveVCCzLAvsHPyluXEy0VcuQUi3WitXexuGFPwdAdku9KkP3FRoE2Hu2U6bbjh4QrHMEaIO4rVdyh3l99cSZq/s1600/P1090369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHqrQlLYL22RW-ci7Db1vKPHWraj4FJja0zQeBsYzHfyqqaLkveVCCzLAvsHPyluXEy0VcuQUi3WitXexuGFPwdAdku9KkP3FRoE2Hu2U6bbjh4QrHMEaIO4rVdyh3l99cSZq/s1600/P1090369.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William, nearly 12 months</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
</div>
rosieinbjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12981791686276501248noreply@blogger.com10