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!