Kind of yellowish I’d say

It’s when you have visitors you get to go out and see and experience things; a chance to get away from the mundane days in the suburb when everything is the same, day after day.

When my dad came to visit to help us unpack and get organized we suddenly had nothing to unpack or organize since our container, hmmm how shall I put it, got lost on the way. So with all this free time and a visitor who had never been to China before, what to do? Well, I planned his visit as a 30/30/40 combination; 30% shopping, 30% sightseeing and 40% eating and drinking. We started off with the Swedish Chamber of Commerce’s Christmas party followed by champagne brunch at the Westin. Monday was dedicated to shopping and Tuesday to sightseeing.

What do you have to see if you visit Beijing? Well, Tiananmen Square and Forbidden City of course. We headed to the big square, the center of this gigantic city, a place filled history – recent and ancient. Even though I’d been there on numerous occasions I had never been to see Chairman Mao where he lies in his mausoleum, embalmed, for all his followers and curious lao wais to come see. “I’ve seen the great Mao six times!” Mr. Li proudly told us on our way over. “I love Chairman Mao” he continued” “ but it’s not the real one you will see, it’s made of wax, the real Chairman Mao is kept in the “xia” (under, I guess he meant basement)”.  “Chairman Mao’s daughter was once in my car, she was very old.” he finishes before dropping us off.

With this information under our belt we head out onto the square and follow the crowd around the big square shaped building that is the mausoleum. We had parked on the wrong side and have to walk all around to get to the entrance where we stand like two big question marks. Where to go now? A guard spotted us and begins to ask, rapidly: “How many cameras? Do you have passport? Come this way, this way!”, he says as he almost pushes us while accompanying us out of the square, across the road to another building where we are to deposit of everything except our money and passports. The guard ushers us on while continuing to hurry us on: “kwai, kwai, kwai!” (Fast, fast, fast!). He takes us behind, the counter, inside the door to the inner sanctum of deposited handbags, cameras, luggage, plastic bags (the things people lug around) and other random items. Some people visiting Tiananmen Square looks like thy just stepped off the train (and they probably did) and all of their belongings are stored here while they pay their visit to the great Chairman Mao.

Things deposited and we hurry back, through the security and pass the queue lining up for the next security check. Suddenly he stops: “wu shi kuai (50RMB)”, he almost whispers and signals that this should be handled in secret. I make the mistake by asking if that is for one of two and then of course 50 is for one and we have to pay him 100RMB ($15 or so) and he pockets the money and pushes us through so we don’t have to show passports or give money to anyone else. Then he vanishes out of the blue and we are on our own. Though I’m positive proper identification is necessary, it might be free to visit the great leader but surely, this guards efforts were worth the 100RMB he pocketed. He can buy himself lunch all week and still afford to buy his friends a beer at the end of the day. Or pay his electricity AND phone bill for the month.

Even though we jumped the line, we still have some way to go, including another security check involving post September 11 like airport security measures. We are scanned, patted down, our things (what we have left) go through an x-ray and finally we are cleared. Right outside the majestic building there are yellow flowers for sale, a mountain of yellow carnations for 3 kuai each. We walk up the stairs, take off our hats as we enter and keep silent as the sign tells us to do, and there in front of us, people leave their flowers, worshipping a statue of the great Mao. The same flowers will most likely be carried back and sold all over again. A nice business I’d say, very profitable.

There is no room to veer, we simply follow the crowd through a corridor, into another and then the line divides in two and we are ushered into the center of the building were the Great Mao lies (or his wax copy, shhhh) for everyone to see. It all takes less than 30 seconds. He looks a bit pasty, kind of yellowish and with weird red eyes that almost shine like flashlights or laser beams. The glass box is lit up, of course, which may cause the yellowishness.

And that’s it. We’re done. We’ve done our duty, go back to collect our things, stroll a while around Tiananmen Square, trying to avoid hat, postcard, scarf and photographers and make our way over to the Forbidden City to absorb a completely different era of Chinese history.

Never-ending story

  

Will this ever end? Just when we had all the house problems under control; back they came, with a vengeance.

Let’s take it room by room shall we?

Master bathroom - major issues. After the geyser issue on Halloween weekend we haven’t dared use the bath tub (see previous post “Butt naked”).As of now, when we use the shower, the toilet is making a blubb, blubb, blubb sound and water is coming up. The toilet doesn’t flush and the shower floods and both sinks are clogged. On one of the landlady’s representatives visits (and there has been many) she explained to me (while chuckling; almost laughing) that the shower, the massive bath and the two sinks share one pipe leading to the toilet (!) and from there to the drain. And the pipes are really small, she says while continuing to smile and showing me exactly how small with her hands. Now, this lady travels by bus from the city, most likely for at least two (2!) hours to stand in my bathroom and snicker about the appalling plumbing in the house that she is responsible for.  

The children’s bathroom – working surprisingly well…except for the sinks, again. What a surprise. The water runs so slowly the kids can brush their teeth, go to school, and come back again before all the water is gone.

And the kitchen - ahh, the kitchen. Our house has the smallest kitchen we’ve ever had; it is even smaller than the Annecy kitchen which was tiny. I’ve bought two new cabinets for our dishes only as there is almost no cabinet space at all. And what there is; is either very high up or in the corner, impossible to reach and will be used for items not very often used. The” beautiful” laminate on the cabinet to the right of the oven (which is fitted with a strange wire structure to be used for …I have no fucking idea...) has started to peel. Most probably the glue used (on a kitchen cabinet next to an oven) isn’t heat proof.

The pipes (again the pipes) are teeny tiny and clog up. What was fixed when we had first moved in (involving some kind of drilling wire construction when the kitchen kept flooding every day) has now returned and while the water has been running slowly down the drain; now it doesn’t run at all. And what happens then? Somehow it ends up on the floor, under the “beautiful” bar coming out from…somewhere. Seriously, I don’t know. Under the sink it’s dry and the dishwasher doesn’t leak so I have no idea! But yet, somehow, brownish tinted water with coffee specks smelling of the bad wine I poured out this morning seeped out making Xiu (who was over cleaning the house at the moment) simply shake her head. “Bu hao”, she simply exclaimed, no good house.

While the management workers were here I simply left them with Xiu. She just can make them work harder than I can. They asked me for a step ladder and she fired off in vicious Mandarin: “She doesn’t have any furniture, do you really think she would have a ladder?”  I took Amanda with me and went to Stacy for coffee and the high-end Nestle chocolate she got for Christmas from Paul’s office.

“I’m amazed” she said, “I’m amazed that you are neither hooked on drugs nor a raging alcoholic by now, considering all that you’ve been through”. What can I say? There’s not a question of giving up. It’s like having a baby. You cannot not get up in the middle of the night to feed it, change it, and make sure that it is still breathing. You just have to get through it. And once you are over the hard part, the baby years, it will all be good. Or so I hope.

Ulf has been reading my posts and complained that I’m complaining too much. “People will think we are miserable!” Miserable we are not, I like it here, but as I told him that in this house there are not many things going right, right now, and a lot of complaining is justified he simply said: “Well, that is true.”

Now let’s just see if we will get our container next week when we have a semi-promise of delivery. Who is to know that they pulled the right one from that warehouse in Mesa where it was stored for two months?

Ouch two.

My husband looks like he has some kind of weird tropical disease, or chicken pox on steroids on his lower back only.

After my success with Dr. Lan and after having heard Ulf complain about his back pain (that damn bed) I one morning forced him (read me for him) to make an appointment. Men, you know, they complain and complain and complain again but seems to have a problem doing something about it. They are busy or it’s inconvenient or whatever. I stood my ground and he went and returned home later completely convinced and very impressed.

First session, acupressure massage, and already he felt better but still had to return for another treatment. As mentioned before, Dr. Lan treats you as he see fit, meaning you have absolutely no idea of what is going to happen to you. I got the needles on my first session and Ulf got the cups on his second.

Cupping treatment, or fire cupping treatment as it is also called, is an ancient form of alternative medicine in which a local suction is created on the skin; practitioners believe this mobilizes blood flow in order to promote healing. Suction is created using heat (fire) or mechanical devices (hand or electrical pumps). It is known in local languages as baguan/baguar, badkesh, banki, bahnkes, bekam, buhang, bentusa, kyukaku, gak hoi, Hijamah, kavaa (ކަވާ), singhi among others (Thank you Wikipedia).

Basically, the air inside the cup is heated and the rim is applied to the skin, forming an airtight seal. As the air inside the cup cools, it contracts, forming a partial vacuum and enabling the cup to suck the skin, pulling in soft tissue, and drawing blood to that area.

There is no scientific evidence that it can cure cancer or any other disease but increase blood flow to an area, sure! It sounds pretty freaky and the end result, big red circular bruises, is not pretty but it seems to work! It’s either Dr. Lan’s treatment or the fact that Ulf went for a business trip and got to sleep in a real bed for the first time in six weeks but the complaining has stopped. About the back at least.

Ouch!

I am a firm believer in traditional Chinese medicine. Sadly, my insurance company is not but luckily in China (where Chinese medicine is simply called medicine) treatments are very affordable.

I broke my back a few weeks ago. A combination of a rock hard bed, neglect and ignorance and most probably the cold weather and frustration was the cause, I believe. Suddenly, one Sunday afternoon I was in severe pain and by Monday morning I couldn’t move.

After having vaguely asked around for a chiropractor for weeks I was now in desperate need of one and called the hospital which actually could accommodate me and gave me an appointment a few hours later; enough time to get dressed and beat the traffic to get to BJU. A couple of neck x-rays and some spine manipulation involving a drilling-like machine on my neck, an appointment for another visit and 3000 RMB less in my bank account later I was released with the news that the problem lies in my neck and with proper care and exercise my problems could go away forever. Boy, have I heard that before!

But! Through the grapevine I’d heard of the amazing Dr. Lan. You go to see him and he will choose how to treat you, depending on your injury or problem. It can be massage, acupuncture or even cupping.

At my first session the soft spoken Dr. Lan greeted me as I was laying down on the bed and began with gently massaging my stomach and later moving his hands, pressing hard, up and down my body; all the while grunting slightly when he reached an area that apparently was in need of treatment. He later explained that today he was to give me acupuncture and massage, when the treatment was over we would talk. Ok, no problem. Some needles in my lower right scull and the painful area in my back, some excruciating massage in my right calf and where the needles had been placed in the skull later and Dr. Lan steps into the room, places his hands firmly around my head and begins to squeeze.  He presses so hard on my face and skull that I begin to wonder how much pressure a head really can take. During this cranio sacral therapy when he is holding my head so hard, pressing my cheekbones down he were humming at first, later singing to me and my squeezed head. I don’t know if it was to cause vibrations or just to make him and maybe me feel more relaxed.

As it turns out, he later explained to me, my body is imbalanced, but with the right treatment and many visits I will never experience back pain again! Worth a try I’d say. And sure worth $20 a pop.

And at my next session, one week later, the sensitivity had moved to another area; my hips as the therapist so delicately explained. I might be blunt, but after this acupressure massage session I walked around with a sore ass for days afterwards.

O fuck it part two

I was so excited about my baking the other day. Finally some Christmas preparation that doesn’t involve decorations held captive aboard a ship somewhere on the South China Sea. Fool proof. Cannot go wrong.

So I’d bought the saffron, the flour, the yeast and all other ingredients and was getting the dough ready in time for the kids to help me actually bake when they got home from school.

Hmm…something is not right here, I thought to myself, still calm at this stage. The saffron though it smelled right (though faint) was not yellow enough. But, since I had bought it at a market where the embassy chefs shop I stupidly thought they would not try to cheat you. I mean, how stupid are you to try to do that? You will lose business and most importantly your reputation and people will go shop at the next stall where they sell exactly the same things as you do.

So I proceeded mixing everything and left it to rise.

45 minutes later, a pasty grey/white rock hard lump waited for me, completely without the Christmassy saffron smell that I expected. I tried to roll it out, making the infinity eight shapes but to no avail. I tried to salvage it, adding cinnamon and sugar, making it into cinnamon buns but out of the oven came tiny, greyish, disgustingly disappointing not worthy to be called baked goods.

At this stage when I was seriously pissed off my mother Skype me and caught me in the action.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” she almost chuckles while I curse away and show her the horrible result of my labor.

What to say? I’ve felt like cursing ever since (and I do). It turns out the flour was not the right kind of flour though I never figured out which kind of flour it actually was , the yeast (though brand new) was dead and despite trying to save these scentless, greyish disgusting lumps of produits de boulangerie, in the end; I had to throw them all away.

Thank God for wine.

O fuck it.

Yesterday, when I was in my daughter’s extremely brightly lit bathroom, I threw a glance in the mirror, thinking how long my highlights had lasted; no dark roots at all! I leaned in closer, inspecting my tired, pasty white face with dark, gloomy circles underneath my eyes and saw to my horror that the hairs that I thought were salon bought coloring were in fact strands of grey. I’ve never had a grey hair before in my life. These grey hair sums up what has been a week of bad mood and disappointments.

Bad mood caused by the disappointing news that our container is being held captive and has not yet even arrived in China. The weather has not helped improve my bad mood; it’s absolutely freezing outside and chilly to say the least, inside. A quick email to Serena to complain and voila! today an air con/heater repair person shows up out of the blue.

“Tai leng le” (Too cold) I complain.

“Mei wenti!” (No problem!” he explains.

Everything works fine I think he says while he is touching the pipes coming out of the units inside the garage.

“But wei shenme (why) only 17 degrees (Celcius – you figure it out if you have to but it’s cold, trust me) in the living/dining room?” I ask.

“Zhe ge fangjia hen da le” (this room is very big), he continues.

“But wei shenme only 17 degrees zai zhe ge fanjia?”  (in this room) I ask him and shows him the control pad in the TV-room/sun room (no sun though) “zhe ge fangjia hen xiao.” (this room is very small)

“Ahh”, he exclaims and starts fiddling with the control pad pushing the buttons and tries to explain that (I think) max is 23 degrees and when it reaches 23 it will ting (stop).

“23 tai re le.” (too hot) I tell him.

“Mei wenti, it’s never going to reach 23 anyway” he says and leaves.

I think, this is the jist of our conversation and considering that the insulation is non-existent, the plumbing sucks, the paint flakes and the laminate on the cupboards are falling off it makes absolutely perfect sense.

Getting in the spirit

Swish, time flies, seriously fast as if by jet plane. November is nearly over, almost all the leaves has changed colors and fallen down and it is cold in Beijing. Ah, the novelty of wearing hats and gloves – it quickly wears off. “You must be tired of sun and warm weather after four years in Phoenix?” someone commented. Uhhh….not so much. We layer on sweaters and jackets and grunt about the fact that we bought new winter clothes for everyone last year before our spring-break ski trip; gear that has not yet arrived. The container that was supposed to arrive in Xinhui, China – in the very south – last Saturday is still M.I.A. and/or delayed due to congestion. I try desperately to stay positive whereas my husband, the ever pessimist (or perhaps realist) says we are lucky if we have a home before Christmas.

It is hard to find a holiday spirit in an empty house but we’ve got to! It is still early days, not even the last week of November yet, but still. Had we been in America still, our Christmas lights would at least be up, lightning up the dark, starlit Arizonan nights. 

That reminds me, gotta buy new Christmas lights too…. I never thought I’d say this but I’m so tired of buying new stuff all the time. Here shopping can be a chore which takes several days. This can be found there and that is best to buy at that place, an hour away; where is Target when you need it? And when you find it, bring it home and realizes it won’t fit, it isn’t the right color, it’s broken or whatever – you have to do it all over again the next day or whenever is convenient and you have the car and driver.

What I did find yesterday on my food market shopping trip was saffron, both the good, real stuff and the thready orange bits without flavor. This afternoon will be dedicated to lussebullar.

That reminds me…gotta get back to IKEA (again) and get some Glögg…

Fly away!

Thanksgiving is coming up, a holiday we never celebrated in the US because it simply doesn’t mean anything to us. It is not our tradition, we didn’t have family close by and to cook a whole turkey for four people is simply a waste. Here, I long for Thanksgiving. Maybe it’s the weather, maybe I just feel more thankful this year or maybe it would just be nice to do something nice, I don’t know. But I’m looking forward to Saturday, cooking all afternoon and enjoying a nice meal with new friends.

Therefore Christine and I headed to San yuan li market to find a turkey. San yuan li is a real market-market; indoors but not heated, small stalls selling everything under the sun related to food and cooking. A huge fruit section, vegetables of every kind, nuts, spices, noodles, tofu, meat – some still almost alive, fish and seafood – beautiful scallops; every kind of crustacean, teeny tiny mussels  and huge razor clams. This is the place where the embassy chefs go shopping, or so I’ve heard, and I understand why.

Amidst all the food stalls there are also tiny stalls selling pots and pans, plastic buckets and silver ware, cooking utensils, kettles – anything and everything imaginable.

Christine has had a few flies in her house refusing to die a normal death. They are probably just like any living creature trying to escape the bitter cold outside and like the environment in the deMuro household. She’s been looking for a fly swapper for some time now but to no avail, simply impossible to find. This should be the place.

“Bzzzzzzzz”, I tell him making a swapping gesture with my hand.

“Aaahhh!” he exclaims excitedly and gets a huge hammer from under a counter.

“Nonononono, bzzzzzzzz, xiaode (small) bzzzzzzz”, I continue.

“Aaahaaaa!” more excitement follows and he bends down and gets a smaller hammer.

“Nooooo”, ok, now it’s time to get the dictionary out and find the right word for fly or mosquito.

Amazingly enough, he finally gets it (and gets it) from under a pile of stuff, a variety of fly swatters in hot pink and baby blue.

Now if we can only find some background sound of a football game, the American kind.

I go by cool

“Amanda, you look super cute in your new soccer outfit!”

“Mum, I don’t go by cute, I go by cool.”

“Amanda, do you want to see if Katie can play today?”

"Mum, we don’t call it play anymore, we hang out.”

All said with attitude of course. What happened to my six-year old?

But then again, last night she couldn’t sleep and I told her to start thinking about her wish list for Santa and I told her I would do the same.

“But mommy, how will he know where we are?”

“Oh, remember the Santa satellite? We talked about it last year. And now Santa has email! Write your list and we can send it to him.”

My dad is coming for a visit to help us unpack (hopefully we will by then have things to unpack) and buy Christmas presents. When I told the kids about that both of them exclaimed:

“But Santa makes the gifts! He makes all of them!”

Ooops.

Christmas trees are already for sale, big ones, small ones, all planted in big, green buckets by the side of the road and we hope there will still be some around the weekend before Christmas when we will find the perfect one to decorate and enjoy for one whole week before flying off to our sunny holiday break in Vietnam. Hopefully we will also have our own decorations to decorate it with….the missing container saga continues….

Butt naked

Sometimes, those things happen in life that makes you say: “One day we will laugh at this…” even though, at that moment when it happens; it is definitely no laughing matter. 

One of those moments was last Sunday, when after a long weekend of moving to our new house, Halloweening and a delicious Sunday brunch, we ended up sitting buck naked in the bath, waiting for the management office to send a repair man.

By Sunday night we were exhausted. We had successfully unpacked most bags and semi-installed ourselves, we had ordered out for dinner, enjoyed our Chinese food (just food here!) on paper plates and successfully put the kids to bed. The huge Jacuzzi was too tempting to be ignored; ahhh, to relieve those sore muscles and to relax for a while before trying to sleep on our rented rock-hard bed.

It all started out well; we did not run out of hot water, nor did icky stuff come out from the air holes when we started the Jacuzzi. It was nice and relaxing, really, but there is a limit how long you can stay and we were ready to get up and get ready for bed. “Let’s turn the bubbles off, dear”, I told my husband and as the nice man that he is, he tried to do just that. And tried again, when it didn’t work, and again. And again. He tried to move, get out of the bath to get a better look at the button but then, of course, we had a geyser in the bath. We managed to fill it up so that he could exit but to no avail. The bubbles would not stop. Next, time for me to try to get out – more water had to get in – and finally we are both out of the water, wandering what to do next.

One of the benefits of living in a compound like this is that you have a 24/7 management office to call, in times of need. And boy, were we in need. A quick phone call to explain the matter and 30 or 40 minutes or so later, a worker  comes in the night on his bicycle.

“Ayoo, bu hao, bu hao” (not good, not good), he repeats to himself and to us as he is trying to pry the button up in order to shut it off. More head shaking follows. Finally he manages to turn it off and then we can’t get the water out. The stopper is stuck as well! More prying, more head shaking, more sharp tools not to be used near the tub normally are used and finally, he manages to pop it out. Ok, we think, that was it. One dip and for sure, the tub will be broken for the entire term of our lease. 

But, to my surprise, and with the help of our excellent realtor Sabrina, a few days later a worker shows up. And after five hours of work, including lifting the whole thing up, prying underneath, rubbing cooking oil on the drain stopper and inviting a worker from the house next door to help; it supposedly works again. I’m not sure we will be brave enough to try it again in the near future but at least we now know who to call and what to do in case we end up in endless bubbles again.

Enjoy!

Last Sunday we were enjoying our first Sunday Brunch since moving back to Asia. Now, if you are not familiar with the concept, in Asia brunch isn’t simply eggs and bacon, pancakes and free flow of coffee; No! In Asia you go to five star hotels and enjoy anything under the sun to eat and free flow champagne to drink. 

We headed to Westin and their Bubbalicios, and as it was Halloween weekend – Spookylicious, brunch.

It was all so very familiar and took us back to the days when we did this quite frequently, i.e. BC – Before Children: the lobster, the sashimi, the make-your-own pasta counter, Indian food, “normal” breakfast fare (the best sausages and bacon ever according to the kids), dim sum, chocolate fountain and every other dessert imaginable; all accompanied by free flow of Moet & Chandon. Due to Halloween weekend we also had vampires walking around offering a taste of their own blood, mealworms, spiders and cockroaches on display, another vampire girl in a gigantic plastic bubble greeting us at the entrance, and a full game of Planet Vs. Zombies being put on in the one of the ballrooms in addition to the fully supervised and equipped play room. Everyone enjoyed themselves and ate and drank their hearts out.

Halfway into our meal, the kids were summoned to the ballroom for THE Planet Vs. Zombies game and excitedly they went. 10 minutes later they return: “Mom, it was soooo lame!” I think they both expected computers to be involved somehow, not a bunch of kids and grown-ups in paper masks throwing plastic fruit on each other. Still, you have to admire their ingeniousness.

The kids didn’t suffer though. There were tons of kids around and strengthened by ice-cream and candy they hit the play room and soon found friends and me and my husband could have a rare, quiet champagne moment alone.

Still, as we were sitting there in this wonderful restaurant enjoying all these extravagances, everyone having a wonderful time, I couldn’t help but think about my friend who last Tuesday had to do the unimaginable – she had to put her little girl to rest. Sweet Mia only got to live 400 days before a viral infection of her heart and lungs took her short life, unexpectedly, unexplained, very quickly and so very unfair. My heart is breaking for her parents and the rest of her family.

Life sure offers many ups and downs and trying to settle in in China is a real roller coaster. Still, we are so very lucky. We are all healthy and together and we have embarked on this adventure that will turn out fabulously. Sweet Mia, rest in peace, I wish there was more I could do for your mom and dad right now. 

Ni hao

Chinese is the most rewarding language to learn. Say “Ni hao” to a local and they will complement you on how good you speak their language!

I am very surprised and proud of the fact that despite the fact that I haven’t studied or spoken the language in 15 (fifteen!) years I still remember lots. And it keeps coming back! Two babies (and after having kids every mom knows the brain turns to mush) and countless parties and my brain is still storing this information. Amazing.

Nevertheless, I felt the need to brush up on my language skills and hopefully learn some more. So, after two months of procrastination…I finally called ISA’s language school to set up an appointment. 30 minutes by bike and I finally find her school, located in her home on the ground floor of an apartment building in the town of Hou Sha Yu, with an entrance through her zen-like garden, lovely in the spring I’m sure.

After greeting me, she hands me a paper, all written in hanzi (Chinese characters), to see where I’m at. Auummmmm…Dawai he Mali…ok, not much have changed when it comes to the fake foreigners taking Mandarin lessons in Chinese languagelearning books. After a lot of coaching, we made it to the end and I left her with an eagerness to study that I haven’t felt in years.

Going home I took the wrong exit of a roundabout and almost ended up on the express way.

So, while I might be good at languages, I’m still logistically impaired….but at least I can ask for directions..

Fall break part 2

Ok, Fall Break was like 100 years ago, and I can hardly remember what we did the last few days of it. We went to Tiantan Park to see Temple of Heaven together with 10.000 other people, we tried desperately to make our children to eat Chinese food, we saw a woman staring at a tree in a park, we were approached over and over again by people inquiring how old are children are, we saw old men practice Kung Fu in the park, we visited a children’s playground with a tank merry-go-round (with shooting guns sound effects), we saw groups of people exercising with Tai Chi Balls (two rackets, one heavy ball – slow motion -tai chi- like movements) and feather balls (kicking the ball to each other) and one area of the park where I believe they tried to find suitable partners for their children and grandchildren. People were sitting around with pieces of paper and photographs showing the age, height and weight and I’m guessing more information as well. Very crowded area, I guess the match making business is still going strong in China. We even managed to squeeze in a few play dates for the kids and overall, it was a very nice, relaxing fall break. Even kitty felt more relaxed afterwards.

This week has been field trip week. On Monday all first graders went to two farms; an apple and pear orchard in the morning and a vegetable farm in the afternoon. All kids came armed with baskets and bags to the fruit orchard and since no instructions and directions were given, they picked away.

Then it was time to check out…..and oops, the farm forgot to tell us that they were only allowed to pick four apples each and what was left after the kids had gotten their pick the school and parents had to pay for. It was the most expensive fruit shopping ever. Such a rip-off but what to do?

The afternoon trip was much more organized and Amanda came home with a zucchini like pumpkin on steroids, a whole bag of carrots and so much ginger it will last us all winter. The pumpkin, some ginger and tangerines have been made into a soup that will be enjoyed at todays’ harvest feast.

The second graders went to the Great Wall on Tuesday. It was one of those rare perfect fall days when the sun is shining, the air is fresh, the leaves are every color of the rainbow almost and everyone is happy. We found a new way up to the wall through a garden with a waterfall and a cave. Heaven for the boys who pretended they were in a star wars game and ran all the way up to the wall. The energy! And stamina! I don’t get it; my boy hardly eats, doesn’t exercise much and still has the energy of an Olympic athlete. After some poem writing and lunch in one of the watch towers we headed down again and back to school.

Halloween weekend is coming up and hopefully moving day tomorrow! Can’t wait to move into our new, though almost empty, house. Finally some kind of normality.

A ball gown and a box of cat litter

Fall is ball season in Beijing and even if we are not going to any, others are and as the good friend that I am, I followed Deb to Jenny’s dress shop to help her find a gown. Think dress shop and you think fancy location, a spacious store with thick carpets and large dressing rooms. Perhaps dresses color coordinated on the racks or sorted by event suitability and maybe they offer tea of even champagne!

We discovered that Jenny’s dress shop is not exactly like that… when we eventually found the place after having circled around the same block three or four times. The instructions were: Give Jenny a call and she will meet you at the gate and let you in. Well, we skipped that part after having been let into the garage and in through the locked doors to the lift. Three floors up we enter a court yard where various tiny shops, all locked, were surrounded by apartments in the high rises above.

A quick phone call to Jenny and she appears and unlocks the door to her shop; a teeny, tiny space with dresses from floor (many on the floor) to ceiling. Long gowns, short dresses, casual dresses and what could easily be worn to an Indian wedding and all hanging haphazardly on too crowded racks. It’s clean enough and we begin to rumble through her selection, picking out what is available in “American size”, i.e. very big for the tiny Chinese people. It’s impossible to fathom how she does her inventory, how does she know what she has in stock but somehow she does and she can even produce “new” dresses in different sizes.

Now, I wasn’t in the market for a gown, as mentioned I haven’t got anywhere to use it, but what to do when you find the perfect navy blue silk gown, strapless and cut like a glove that makes you look and feel like a princess – even on a Tuesday morning. Well, you’ve got to buy it and find a reason to wear it. Our house warming might be a very fancy affair….

Deb walked away with four dresses and we headed to Auchan, French hypermarket extraordinaire.

After a quick noodle lunch, two gigantic bowls of spicy noodle soup heaven and a plate of sesame infused greens – all for 26 RMB (US$4!) for the two of us, we continued with our shopping.

An hour or so later I walk out and head home with not only a ball gown that I don’t really need, but also cat litter and Angry Bird stickers. A productive day indeed.

See through kitty

We arrived in Annecy, France, in the late spring of 2004 after having spent eight years in Asia. Shakespeare had so far lived in our Singaporean condo on the mountain where he was born, our picturesque house in Den-en-chofu, Tokyo, our apartment with the magnificent view over Lamma Island and our vast government-owned apartment – both in Hong Kong. We went from 300 m2 to a 100m2 loft apartment on Avenue de Genève.

All went well, initially; he only escaped down the elevator that went straight up to our apartment once, and he only jumped down to our neighbor’s balcony once as well. Winter arrived and his strolls around our 50m2 large patio came to an end. He has never been much of a winter guy; instead he curled up like a cinnamon roll under a blanket or under the duvet in our bed, surrounded by pillows.

All of a sudden he started coughing, not like a normal cat-cold kind of cough but more wheezing and dry cough, as if he couldn’t exhale properly – like asthma. And sure enough, the vet soon confirmed that asthma it was and that he needed regular cortisone injections throughout winter. Needless to say; cortisone plus inactivity made him put on a lot of weight and by summer we had one fat kitty.

When Shakespeare arrived after more than two months of boarding in Scottsdale, a three day journey across the globe and six days of quarantine he resembled Garfield, only grey and black instead of orange. Never before has he been so….solid…. (I’m way to nice here…I don’t want to hurt the poor deaf cats’ feelings…).

After a very short stroll around the service apartment he settled in quickly and has since escaped only once when housekeeping by accident let him out. He prefers to spend his days sleeping or looking out the window.

Beijing is extremely dry and of course the cough came back, with a vengeance. I took him to the vet the other day to make sure his lungs and heart where working well and confirm, yet again, what I know is wrong with him. Before I knew it, four people were involved and he was whisked off to the x-ray room where they proceeded to hold him down during the procedure (thank god they were wearing protective vests!). Afterwards, the sanitized instruments went back in to their plastic bags (without being sanitized again…) and the doctor began to rinse the negatives in the examination room.

The result? Sure enough, he is overweight but he also has a mysterious syndrome which causes his airways to tighten and contract, something related to old age presumably.

There’s always an excuse, isn’t there? Will look into a cat treadmill for sure…

Fall break part 1

Fall break fell upon us last week and while the majority of the expat population fled the city and headed for beaches in Thailand, Vietnam or Malaysia, or exciting city breaks in Tokyo, Hong Kong or Singapore, what seemed like the entire Chinese population headed for Beijing. As did we. We figured we couldn’t really leave Shakespeare at a cattery so soon after having checked out of one and besides, it gave us a chance to explore our new city.

We started off the week with a visit to Tiananmen Square, rumored to fit 1.000.000 visitors at once. I believe there were 999.996 Chinese visitors and four (4) Swedes around that Monday morning, at least if felt like it. But boy, were we popular. We of course remember the fascination of our pale skin, blue eyes and golden hair but for the kids this was new. But after a few minutes of shyness, they quickly warmed up and posed with whom ever wanted a picture with a REAL laowai. We squeezed ourselves through the underpass in an effort to enter the Forbidden City but to no avail. It was simply too crowded and by now, the kids had really had enough. Not even hot dog on a stick and ice cream helped and we made our way out, trying to find lunch. 

And there they were, lovely little street restaurants offering all sorts of local delicacies but what did our kids do? They frowned with their little faces and scrunched their noses complaining about weird smells and sounds. I guess we will take it in baby steps but it will be my mission to have them eat, and enjoy (!), Chinese food before next summer.

Having Mr. Li around to take us home after our exhausting city visit was a godsend; to escape into his clean Buick with crocheted seat covers (and seatbelts!) and listen to Lady Gaga made the trip home so much more comfortable than trying to find a taxi and convince the driver to drive all the way out to Shunyi all the while listening to Chinese theater on the radio and worry about the kids crashing through the window in case of an accident.

Tuesday we headed for Mutianyu. In 1997 this part of the Great Chinese Wall was pretty peaceful and calm; a few vendors selling water and souvenirs, a tiny bar and a very stinky bathroom of the simplest kind. Toilet seats - are you kidding? Doors for privacy -why bother?!

There had been an upgrade in both restrooms (still stinky though) and vendors of food/drink/souvenirs; there was even a Subway! We had packed lunch and headed straight for the gondola taking us all the way up to the wall, with a half-promise that we would look at the nanchucks and Chinese army hats later…as well as the traditional Chinese empress hat…

Even the kids were impressed by the wall, actually awestruck and speechless would be a better word for their reaction. It is so impressive and magnificent and incomprehensible to understand that it is man-made. The kids had a blast and ran off energy climbing up and down the steps, not tiring of the view or the attention they got from the other visitors, again – mainly Chinese. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and as we were sitting down next to a watch tower eating our sandwiches we were having a near perfect moment. If it hadn’t been for the people gawking at us, stopping to take our picture (they eat!) and ask us questions about where we were from, why we were there, were the kids twins and when the answer was no; oh you are so lucky.

We managed to steer the attention away from the nanchucks (I could just imagine the strangling accident) with two samurai swords and traded the army hat for a revolutionary cap (couldn’t get her off the empress hat though) and picked up a few souvenirs for our American friends and later headed home, in Mr. Li’s air conditioned sedan listening to Lady Gaga.

Slumpin' away

It’s official; I’m in a slump. Been here before, know the signs and the feel of it all and it really suck.

The pollution index is at a steady 200 – 300ish meaning grey skies and dusty feeling skin. Make-up is worn as a protectant against the elements; thank God I’m a woman. Even though the weather is still warm enough for shorts and t-shirts during the day, the government has decided that all air-con units should no longer produce cold air. For now, nothing comes out until they decide it’s time for warm air. I knew this was the case for apartments and official buildings but a hotel? Hello?!

To add insult to misery, I am officially too fat to buy clothes in China. “Ohhhh, mei you….ni tai da le!” (Oh, there is nothing, you are too big!) Yay, thanks midget. I know I’ve got a big ass but it can be clothed in the rest of the world and these boobs that you are looking at, longing for; well, too bad you’re never gonna get any unless you pay for them. Hah!

So what to do when you’ve been living in the same clothes since June in AZ summer desert climate, Scandinavian summer and Beijing fall which is getting colder by the day? You suck it up and go shopping! That’s all. You’d think that is an easy task in China since EVERYTHING is made in China. Not so much so. I decided to skip the humiliation and struggle at the markets and headed straight for Solana; a shopping center that looks (key word here!) like it could be placed anywhere in America; familiar stores, a food court, a western type supermarket, a pharmacy and a few restaurants.

I was quite optimistic at this point; I was only looking for a couple of pairs of pants or jeans and a sweater, not a ball gown! Beijing country life isn’t exactly glamorous; god knows what I’m going to do with my 40 or so pair of heels that will arrive any year now. So, optimistically, I enter the first shop; a well-known brand; a chain store that has everything! I browse through the store, picking up an item here, and item there, all in my usual size (and no, I have not gained weight over summer!) and head for the changing rooms. No, no, no and noooooo! I can’t even pull the pants over my knees and I did pick the right size (this isn’t Italy or France when they have weird sizes and you have to go two sizes up in everything) but somehow, these pants must be made exclusively for the Asian market and maybe you don’t know this but Asian ladies are ass—less. All flat. A round booty like mine does not belong here.

By the third store I am tired, sweaty (no air-conditioning, remember) and hungry and there I meet an angel. She sees me, she greets me and she doesn’t give up. She gets every single pair of pants and jeans in the store and finally – success! I almost kissed the woman.

Exhausted from trying on clothes I head for the food court. Yum! Not a Mc Donald’s or KFC in sight. All local food made on the spot; every kind of noodle and dumpling you can imagine…if I only could figure out how to pay…and to get some ones, any ones, attention. There seemed to be a system of pre-paying whatever you wanted at a cashier at the very entrance. People were walking around waving credit card like cards, while shouting the orders to the vendors. Nobody was interested in me, nobody even offered to help and tries to explain, nobody cared that I was starving and very willing to be charged laowai overprices. I left hungry and confused…and went around the corner to…Restaurant Street! There they were, all lined up! Food for every taste and wallet and they were very willing to serve me a delicious bowl of miso ramen with a spicy tempura roll on the side.

Next, I hit IKEA…but that’s a whole different story…

JD/IT anyone?

I love my cat, I love mycat, I lovemycatIlovemycat. Seriously, I do. I love him to bits even though I had conveniently enough forgotten about how annoying he is when he at 2:42 am wakes me up by nibbling my arm, eating my hair and sweeping everything on the bedside table down on the floor to get my attention. For what? I don’t know. I’m thinking he’s just making sure I’m aware that he’s the boss and that he can get my full attention at all times.

On Friday night I went out with the girls. Or let me rephrase; a group of middle aged women of various nationalities went out on the town to celebrate a birthday together. I had met the birthday girl only once before so it was nice to be invited. Simply going into town is an adventure.

It turns out that Mr. Li, our driver, loves Lady Gaga. He loves her so much that he is playing one song over and over again in different remixes (“There’s nothing else I can say, he-ey, he-ey…… over and over and over again…) all the while maneuvering the car in Beijing’s crazy traffic. I don’t go into town much so just looking out the car window is mind-blowing. It has changed so much and at the same time, between the high rises, in the alleys and parks; people are still dancing for exercise or walking backwards, playing ping pong or chess and the children still don’t wear diapers and do their business on the streets. We tried our best to communicate, Mr. Li and myself, and I think I spoke more Chinese on that one hour ride into town than I’ve done altogether these weeks I’ve spent in China so far. And it’s coming back to me, slowly.

The plan was to meet up at The Fairmont for a cocktail class; have a Japanese dinner at Hatsune and end the night dancing at Suzie Wong’s;  the pick-up place in Beijing – according to my husband. I told him not to worry too much; eight gigantic (by Asian standards) middle aged western women would hardly be the belles of this ball. So we arrive around 11 pm and the place is of course very quiet; I mean who goes to a club before midnight (unless they have kids of course, like all of us)? It’s a two or three story house, different bars with different music and yay! It’s PINK night! We get to wear flashing pink mouse ears or devils’ horns if we want or why not a pink boa for the birthday girl? We find a bar with a table to sit down at (we are old!) and proceed to order drinks only to learn that tonight, the special PINK night, there is a minimum of 800RMB per table….in a half empty bar. I managed to negotiate that we would leave the table if another party wanted it and the waiter was happy with that. 

As we are waiting for our drinks and look around the place it hits me; things have changed in the club world. Where we used to dress up to look nice for ourselves and our friends, the girls now dress up for show, to be seen, to get their picture taken perhaps and end up on someone’s’ blog or website. And where we would drink and laugh and have fun together with each other, now half the group is busy texting or browsing the web on their phones or looking bored as if they have something more important to do. And they all drank whole bottles of alcohol. I’m guessing to 1. Meet the 800RMB per table rule and 2. It looks cool (?). But hello, we see two young local men get a table and proceed to order one (1) whole bottle of Jack Daniels and eight (8) bottles of ice tea. I’m glad we stay to see how that turned out later in the evening and I wonder if they will ever be able to drink JD again.

We finally worked up the courage to hit the dance floor; I mean – who cares? Who cares that we felt awkward, underdressed (compared to the local beauties; come on! They came in full gear; false lashes and all!), old, tired and very, very tall. BUT! Miracles do happen and I believe we’ve still got it, at least some of us. Local Chinese guy encouraged by drink perhaps but also the fact that he is out to entertain the boss begins to dance wildly with us, clearly having a great time. A little while later he gets his boss out on the dance floor and I believe for him its mission accomplice, his job is done. Boss is happy, he is happy.

Very soon after we were happily on our way home; I was in bed by 1pm and was of course promptly woken up at 6.30 the next morning. Thank God we didn’t have to order a whole bottle of alcohol.

He’s here!

Finally the family is all together again, we are complete.

Last night, one day early, a slightly frumpy (and quite overweight) Shakespeare arrived after two months boarding at our veterinarian's office in Scottsdale, AZ, one trans American flight to Houston, TX, one transatlantic flight followed by a little rest in Amsterdam, a transcontinental flight to Shanghai and six days of quarantine, and finally, a hop and a skip up to Beijing.

After having checked out the place a little bit and getting familiarized with the surroundings, he quickly settled down and behaved as normally as possible for him. He took a drink and a snack, went to the bathroom and slept soundly, without nightmares, all night long. Amazing. He is a trouper for sure.

What else can you call a cat that was left by him mommy by the side of the road at the mere age of three weeks, a cat who has lived in Singapore, Japan, Hong Kong, France, the United States and now China and has travelled more than most humans have? A cat who has once got lost in a drain (Singapore), who chased crows as big as a six month old babies and used to ride in my bike basket (Japan), developed asthma and jumped off the balcony and went down by himself in the elevator (France), has been in a fight with a bobcat and been stung by scorpions more times than I can remember (AZ of course – I think scorpion venom is like cat cocaine or something, he went back for more all the time! ) and who according to Amanda has a fly in his head (he was born with some kind of bacteria in his brain; fly or bacteria – whatever)? A cat that has travelled 6543.7 miles or 10531, 5 km in two weeks. I don’t know. Super cat?

He seems to be calmer this time around and I remember saying that when he arrived to the States as well four years ago. Age perhaps? Well, he is getting old, will be 12 in October, or maybe November – we are not sure.

The kids got slightly annoyed yesterday when I kept referring to him as my baby.

“But mommy, you didn’t have him in your tummy!” said Amanda.

“Nooo" I said, "but he doesn’t have a mommy of his own, can’t you share?”

“But what about his mommy, won’t she be sad?”

“Shakespeare’s mommy is probably dead”…as are his four hundred or so brothers and sisters on Mount Faber in Singapore. Maybe they got eaten up by a cobra or run over by a car or put in soup…. (No, I didn’t say the last part out loud, she’s only 6!)

“Ok, you can be his mommy. But you’ve got to stop calling him your baby! Mommy, he’s 12, he’ll be embarrassed…”

“No problems, baby, I’ll stop calling Shakespeare my baby. Ok baby?”

“Ok, because I’m your real baby right?”

“Yes, baby.”

It’s ok.

When my new, shiny red Tuk Tuk was delivered it was the event of the day. The very helpful receptionist Blue (yup, that’s her name!) was there as was not only the service apartments security/bell boy but also some other random guard that was walking around. Mr. Li (our driver) was there of course, making sure everything was working out for “his” family, i.e. us, as was Mr. Birdie himself.

It is so pretty, my tuk tuk. All shiny and did I say red? There is plenty of room for the kids to sit and still room for bags and stuff. And so easy to drive! Not exactly fast and strong, but enough horse power for our quiet excursions around Shunyi. I got so excited that I forgot that it was early release day for the kids and that I had to pick Marcus up from the gate. No worries though, I just picked him up and we took my new toy out for a test drive.

As I was driving around I tried to figure out the dashboard, all in Chinese of course. The power meter is easy enough to understand; when all the red lights are out I need to charge it. The same with the turn indicators and the light switch, which talks by the way, as does the reverse button…  There is however one light that I just couldn’t figure out what it was and I asked Blue for advice. Her English is questionable but compared too many others she is a linguistic genius. She asked for the manual which I gladly handed over, it’s all in Chinese of course, and she proceeded to study it intensely. I understand that it takes time, there are so many characters and they all look so much alike! She asked the security guard for advice, apparently he knows bikes….

“We have to see bike”, Blue explains and sure, no problem, I have it parked across the street at my friend Sara’s house (since the parking garage didn’t work out – too steep of a hill for my tired bike, I ended up pushing it up instead of driving it, thank God Beijing is flat!).

Security guy puts the key in the key hole, starts the engine and begins to look around the bike, opening the latch to where the battery is, looking into every hole and cranny all the while talking intensely to Blue who keeps on studying the instruction booklet.

They talk, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk and I manage to catch a word or two, here and there but not the whole conversation obviously (it’s been 15 years!). Eventually the guard walks away and I ask Blue….what?

“It’s ok.”

That’s it. It’s ok. Nothing to worry about, mei wenti. I’ll make sure to think of that when I’m stranded somewhere with the mysterious light blinking.

It’s ok.

Got Tuk Tuk, can travel

Getting around in the Shunyi bubble, excuse me suburb, can be quite a task. The distances are short but too long to walk. Taking a taxi everywhere works but it is so much work! First you have to find one, then you have to try to explain where you are going, then you have to pay – every time – and then going back home again - you have to do it all over again!

I managed to borrow a bike from a friend of a friend and though my butt is hurting (I thought a bigger saddle would cushion a big butt like mine!) it is a pleasure to swish around the neighborhood, especially when the weather is as nice as it has been the past week with clear, blue skies and warming sun.

Shopping has been difficult though, there is only so much that fits into my little bike basket and this weekend, when the kids will start their sport activities; would I have to suck it up and take taxis everywhere again? Nah….

Of course, in China, there is every bike imaginable available and now, they have stepped it up; moved in to the 21^st century if you will, now, there are electric bikes! Of course I could get a cycle rickshaw and drive the kids around but why, when there are electric tuk tuks?!  This morning, the wonderful driver Mr. Li took me to Birdie Electric in Houshayu, the local place to go to find what I was looking for.

Mr. Birdie himself helped out and quickly introduced me to the latest model; the electric motorbike that is faster, stronger, bigger and safer (?) than any other model and is also almost 600RMB more expensive than what I had in mind. When I told him that my friend (that I’ve never met but once heard of) bought theirs for 3100RMB he quickly steered me in the right direction…the area in the back of the shop with less fancy, not as fast and strong bikes….and then proceeded to look through his records, called someone and started talking to this person fast and excitedly, in Chinese of course. Suddenly he hands me the phone, nodding the head, encouraging me to take it and talk to…someone….

“Eh…hello….ni hao?”,  I ask softly into the phone and is met by a man’s voice with a strong German accent.

“Jaaa, Mr. Birdie changed battery supplier, now stronger batteries, that’s why price more expensive than before.”

“Ooookkkkk”, I answer into the phone to this complete stranger who is now suddenly my ally in my quest to buy transportation for me and my family, “is he a good guy, is Mr. Birdie reliable?”

“Jaaaa, very good man. If you have problem, go back and he will repair. No problem, mei wenti.”

Ok, mei wenti. I needed an extra seat on the back to avoid kids fighting and within two hours Mr. Birdie delivered. Giving me not only a fully charged battery for free but also a lock, a rain coat and a bicycle pump, all included. Mei wenti. 

Told ya!

Fresh eggs anyone? They are low in chilestrin after all....

 Lunch with the ladies....so yum!

Went to buy Tylenol and found this prompt announcement... 

 Told ya! And I had it explained to me that the tree was dying and they tried to revive it, so sweet. At the same time they have been spraying the entire neighborhood with pesticides and warned people not to let their dogs out...

I miss my Lego!

I just saw a tree with an IV drip and no, it was not the tree from the day before. Sadly I didn’t have my camera with me for photo proof; you just have to believe me.

I don’t know what is going on with the greenery in our compound but I guess if you keep moving the trees around they need some extra TLC to feel comfortable.

Yesterday I saw an apartment in a complex in the city center; our realtor especially liked this compound because the developer had moved trees into it from South China. What to say?  I believe my reply was…ok….how nice….

Not only is nature out of whack in our compound, our children are taking alternate days of having complete tantrums and meltdowns. As we are getting to know people around here we are also getting invited to peoples’ homes; real homes. With pictures, more than four plates and cups and most importantly toys; which makes it harder for our children of course, who has been playing with the same Legos and small selection of fluffy animals for two months now. After Sunday evenings’ flood of tears from missing Legos and teddy, we decided that Monday – day off work for Moon festival – would be a “special day” and we would explore the Toy Market.

In 1997 you went from point A to B in about 20 minutes by bike, no matter where you went, it always mysteriously enough took 20 minutes. My memory might be fooling me but that’s what I remember. We now live one hours’ drive north from the north-east part of the part of the city that we mostly go to (40 minutes if you’re lucky) and the Toy Market is located in the south east.

We arrived and eventually found the market. THE market; one whole floor of kiddy heaven. Anything you can imagine from Legos (real and Chinese copies that are exactly like the real thing), dolls, cars, scooters, bikes, games, trains, crafts, Barbie’s (real  and local), balls, toy guns and more and more and more. The kids were speechless! One hour or so later we step out with three Lego sets (two original and one local version just to try it out, a fold-up Barbie house complete with bath, dog and two pairs of shoes, two scooters and two helmets, three id card holders, one angry birds pencil and a hello kitty pen and less 1200RMB ($180 or so) – you’ve gotta love China!

Now, we were a long way from home with a lot to carry and not a single taxi in sight. All taxi drivers were happy at home eating moon cakes with their families, or so I presume. We had tried the subway for a short distance going there and thought why not; why not try it and at least get a little bit closer to home? Two hours later, five changes of subway lines, desperate calls for a taxi at different stops before getting lucky 10 minutes from the hotel, we get home. We had sore arms and burning leg muscles but with happy children.

Parenthood is bliss, isn’t it?

Cheapa, cheapa! Gooda, gooda!

Amanda and I got ourselves matching goggles. Pink of course. With an Olympic sized heated pool (28 degrees Celsius) I figured there are no excuses possible, even if I have to wear a hat.

Sanlitun Lu was in 1997 the place to go to party. A small street with a few clothing stalls on the left and expat bars and restaurants on the right. No culinary highlights but good fun and an easy atmosphere. I bought Chinese bowls and cups from the old couple down the street and we browsed the galleries with Chinese peasant paintings and “original” posters frequently. We made sure the girl who framed our pictures stayed in business; we were there a lot.

Yesterday we decided to revisit our old hangout for a late lunch and maybe some shopping. Instead of tiny bars and cafes we found one fancy restaurant after another, the one and only real Apple store, at least two Starbucks and cupcakes that would put Sprinkles to shame. Gone were the chaotic traffic were taxis, bikes and intoxicated westerners had to share the road, instead we saw Lamborghinis and Ferraris. There was not a bike in sight.

Instead of street stalls selling Polo Ralph Laurens shirts there was a massive indoor market. 5 floors of shopping heaven; if you like the sport of haggling. I had told the kids that in China we would find EVERYTHING, and finally they understood what I meant. We were on the lookout for a new backpack for Marcus, preferably with Super Mario or some Lego motif so we headed down to the basement floor. I’ve been away for a while and forgot the tricks of the trade. The haggling I can handle but the constant call for attention by the vendors is a bit annoying. “Hello! Lady! You need bag? Vely cheapa! Vely gooda! Look Malk Lacobs! You like? Huh? HUH? I give you good plice!” I know remember that in order to avoid this you have to walk steadily forward with a purpose. No browsing, no looking, no meeting any ones eye and  definitely no chit-chatting with the vendors.

Mario was hard to find though; we bought a Wii game for 10RMB that didn’t work, three pairs of goggles for about 100RMB that were perfect, a brand name windbreaker negotiated down from 1800RMB  to 400RMB but no back pack. In fact no-one seemed to know who Mario was. How was this possible? This is Asia, the Mecca of gaming. Mario is as famous as Deng Xiaoping these days. So what to do? Well the only thing we could think of was to ask Marcus to draw a picture of Mario and then maybe they would get it. The crowd started gathering while Marcus drew away with purpose and concentration, not noticing the sales people coming closer to see what he was up to. Finally, the only boy in the group exclaimed:  “Chaoyi Mali! In China say Chaoyi Mali!” Great!

Our girl didn’t have it but she ran off to find one somewhere else. And we waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally she comes back with three back packs: two Ben Ten and one Cars. “Vely cheapa! Vely gooda! But, no Malio – solly.”

Go Green!

At the end of last summer my dad paid me a wonderful compliment. He said: “Sara, you are really good at recycling.” My parents live a very ecological life. They use a compost, they recycle – everything- and the only thing they throw in the garbage is scraps of plastic and eggshells (doesn’t compost very well). 

They have garbage collection once a month.

You could think that China doesn’t have a clue about the environmental health of the planet. All we hear (and see) is how they are slowly eating up the forests with their wooden chopsticks that they only use once and the overuse of Styrofoam containers for their daily lunches, taken on the streets.

And what about the water bottles? EVERYONE knows that if you drink the tap water you’ll maybe not die immediately but you are forever tainted with heavy metals and other harmful substances found not only in the water but in the polluted air.

Our old apartment on Xin Zhong Street, back in 1997, overlooked not only the hutongs (old style courtyard housing) but also the walled in area inside our walled in compound where the garbage was collected. I believe we put all our waste in one bag and sent it down the chute to … somewhere…where someone took care of it. Once we got tired of studying the daily lives of our neighbors in the hutongs (one bathroom per block, cooking over open fire…very entertaining…) I realized that in our little garbage area, there was a system set up. Our trash bags were opened and sorted through, everything ended up in the right pile; cans in one, plastic in one, food waste in one and so on….(my dad would have loved to see this!) Later, the can-man would come with his three wheeled bike to pick up his treasure to sell or recycle or whatever, the plastic guy would do the same and someone even came to collect the wasted food; I’m thinking to feed pigs or something – or even to compost!

As I was walking down the street the other day, on my way to catch a $2 cab to the nearest store, I met a garbage collector. Same three wheeled bike with a broom and rake to pick up scraps that escape hooked on to the back, same slow but determined pace to reach his destination. The only different thing was, this guy had a Bluetooth device attached to his ear.

Welcome to the 21^st Century. Go green.

Cone head

I saw the most peculiar thing the other day as I was standing outside the gates of our compound, waiting for the school bus.

The hotel and service apartment part of the compound is brand new. In fact, they are still working on some of the rooms and on the lawn outside. I have seen this couple; an older man and a woman of undetermined hanging out on the grassy area, just outside the entrance. I thought they were having break, taking some time out, or just enjoying sitting on the pesticide sprayed grass.

This day, while I was waiting, I say them across the street where there is a line of trees planted next to a long wall. What’s on the other side of the wall, I don’t know, maybe yet another housing development or a garden or just nothing. Anyway, I see the couple working hard around one particular tree and soon I realize that they are trying to dig it up. It takes a while but finally they succeed and they begin to carry the tree inside the compound to our little lawn area. Huh.

After the kids got off the bus and we walked by on the way to our apartment I again see them on the grass, this time digging up another tree. A dead one. So I wonder….are they just going to exchange the dead tree from the stolen one from across the street? And no one says anything about this?

Just as mind baffling is the fact that while the club house with all its wonderful facilities (gym, pool, arebics (no typo) room etc.) is only about two (2!) years old. Two out of ten showers have the shower heads attached. On the rest there is only a spout creating a very hard, steady flow that the kids love to play waterfall in. And while on the clubhouse topic; why is it that in China you HAVE to wear a swimming cap while in the pool? There is no way around it, they are VERY determined about this (another thing I had forgotten about China). Thank goodness the kids look good in everything, never mind that I look like a big cone head. One of the perks of motherhood I guess.

Forrow me prease

Things I had forgotten about Beijing:

• ·         That women do hard labor, for example laying new bricks on roads
• ·         That they wear fake sleeves to protect their clothes from getting dirty
• ·         That Chinese pat their bodies, hard, to ease what I presume is pain in various body parts
• ·         The Kanji, Chinese Character, overload.
• ·         That people stare, without shame, at you and often also point fingers and snickers
• ·         How I will explain to the kids that even though Chinese people ride their bikes and motorbikes without helmets, they can’t. Same goes with seatbelts; when there are any…
• ·         The smell. Hard to describe. I have no idea how asbestos smell but I think that is how China smells.
• ·         How much they love it if you try to speak their language, every taxi ride is a linguistic adventure

Our apartment is brand new, the electric meter measured 0.1 of whatever measurement they use.

We have two thick, brand new white rugs; it looks like we’ve had a massive lamb fight in the apartment.

It is comforting to see that nothing much has changed. Last night our friend Mats had made reservation at a restaurant with “The best American food in Beijing”.

This conversation took place as we arrived:

“Ni hao.”

“Ni hao.”

We have made a reservation for six people but we will be seven.”

“Yes.”

“Yes! We have a table booked for six people, but we will be seven.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, it is true. We have made a reservation.”

….

This could go on forever. The waitress’/hostess’ eyebrows were now up to the middle of her forehead, she was thinking so hard. She indicates for us to wait because she has to ask a colleague and Mats has to repeat the whole conversation with another person. During this time we have had time to go to the bathroom and come back. The restaurant is not full by any means.

“Yes, it is true, we have made a reservation.”

“Forrow me prease.”

And he leads us to a lovely table at the end of the garden, as promised far away from the stage where a live band might perform later. There is a sign on the table telling it is reserved for MAST with his phone number. We didn’t see waitress number one much during the evening.

Happy Hour was in full swing; “Buy one, get two, a great deal and a great way to share an order, or so I thought, but alas, no sharing. Have one drink and later remember that the restaurant owes you another of the same kind. And check the check carefully.

…

All the new, and for me and Ulf old, impressions are exhausting. The novelty has worn out and as we are trying to live “real” life in our service apartment; we realize even more how much we miss our own things. Marcus misses his Legos, Amanda misses her teddy, I miss my kitchen and my clothes, my books and my shoes….

Add to that the sleepless nights due to jetlag and games of musical beds. Somehow, until last night, I have never finished the night in my own. 

Breaking up

Alas, the time has come.
This is it. The end. And the beginning of new beginnings.
In 18 minutes we leave to pick Ulf up from work and to continue on to the airport to fly off to begin our new life in Beijing, China.
These eight weeks have been tumultuos, slow at times and have also gone by very fast. We have spent a lot of time with family and have managed to get together with friends as well. We have been very busy and also been able to take it very easy. The sun has been shining but the Arizona tan has faded a long time ago.
The kids are now bilingual and have summer friends to come back to every year. They will both get their own email addresses.

Unfortunately I've learned that neither facebook or twitter nor blogger works in China BUT there might be a way around it.....after a while. Until then....we will have to manage to survive...

Bon voyage, safe travels, trevlig resa! Come back and check now and then, I might be back before you know it!

Silence....

OMG...for the first time in a very loooong while, I am home alone. Not in my own home but still. Husband is away, parents are gone, kids happily playing at neighbors' houses or out riding their bike - all alone.

I am at loss, do not know what to do? I only have 52 minutes but the possibilities are endless! Shall I take a bath, read a book and have a glass of wine? Should I attack the laundry basket and see if I can at least make one small indention and do some ironing. I should make sure that our tickets have been paid for so that we can leave Thursday as planned but that will take me all of five minutes.
Too many choices and too little time.

This summer, the kids have experienced freedom. There are plenty of kids in the neighborhood and they all roam free, more or less. The go to each others houses, by them selves, ring the door bells and asks if they want to come out to play. There is no scheduling play dates, no arranged activities and most importantly; no parental involvement. And so far, they all get along great.

So very different from Scottsdale and so, I believe, healthy. I wonder what it will be like in China? I will choose a place to live with plenty of kids but from experience I know that kids are very busy - kids in Asia especially.

When we lived in Tokyo I had a job. It was a three day assignment when I was the foreigner to look at and talk to. My friend set me up with a gentleman who had a juku, evening school, specialized in English and the world outside of Japan. Most of the kids had never before seen a gaijin (westerner) up close and of course never spoken to one. They knew all the grammar and could write long sentences in English but when it came to talking, they were suddenly terrified of making mistakes and loose face.
I brought Swedish ginger bread cookies to break the ice and we talked about karate and whatever other activities they did for fun.It was fun for me and very well paid for almost no work.
They didn't have time to play though, ever. There was always one juku or another after school, they never just  played.

But, the summer is coming to an end, the Swedish kids have gone back to school and we are leaving Thursday. Visas will be picked up tomorrow, tickets are paid for and we are so ready.

No clothes in the closets though so I guess I'll have to face the ironing beast after all. Bath/book/wine will have to wait.