The New Year, China-style

It's just after midnight in China, the Year of the Ox, and we just experienced our first Chinese New Year. I know Don is also blogging about this, but I have to say, that was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen. We've been seeing fireworks and hearing firecrackers all evening, but as midnight approached, the intensity and frequency increased. We went outside to experience the full sight, sound and taste (from the thick smoke).

People were setting off fireworks in front of our apartment building, in back of our apartment, at the nearby apartments. And not chintzy fireworks, but honest-to-goodness huge professional-looking fireworks. People were lighting firecrackers on their rooftops, and fireworks were coming up out of every apartment complex, lighting the windows of the highrise buildings. Every direction we looked we could see fireworks or see someone setting off fire crackers. It was so loud we couldn't hear each other, and it continued for about 45 minutes. As Don said, it was like being in the fireworks.

The main concentration has died down, but you can still hear popping and booming across the city. Apparently this will continue all week, to some degree, as the New Year celebrations continue. I don't know how much sleep we'll get tonight, if this goes on, but it's worth it.

Foggy Day

We had another foggy day this morning when we were riding the staff bus to school. While it's often foggy in the mornings here, there have been two days in which the fog was so thick we couldn't see anything around us as we drove through the streets of Suzhou. A couple of weeks ago the fog was so dense that the bus driver had to honk at each intersection to make sure he wouldn't run into anyone, or them into us. You might be asking why people continued to drive, ride bikes and scooters, and walk across streets in these conditions, but in China that is like asking, well, like asking "why" about anything around here. It's just the way it is, and why change your habits just for safety's sake? Safety is really not at the forefront of anyone's mind around here. That might explain the worker sweeping in the street today in the fog. When he became visible only a few feet in front of our bus, our driver was skilled enough to swerve. The worker didn't even flinch.

Even in the fog, cars, busses and scooters don't turn on their headlights. I read somewhere that the Chinese believe that turning on car headlights will drain the batteries. The most dangerous time of day to walk around here, in my opinion, is at dusk, when you can barely see the cars, and they surely can't see you at all. I've been in taxis careening through traffic with no headlights at all, when the sun was already past the horizon. If that's how they operate every day, a day of fog is not going to change that. Don and I were on the bus laughing about the lack of headlights, when, lo and behold! we spotted a car with lit headlights. Maybe they thought this was prudent in their case, because they were driving on the wrong side of the road against traffic. In the fog. Safety first!

My first haircut

I finally got up the guts to get my hair cut and colored. I had it done just before we left for China, knowing that I wouldn't want to worry about it for a while, but I never intended to go for four months without a haircut. My hair just got longer and longer. Don finally said, "Uh, Lee, you probably need to get a haircut." Well, when your husband notices that it's too long, it's time.

My friend, Sue, recommended a guy, and her hair looks great, so I took her advice. I've been worried that when I got my hair colored it would end up really dark, and I've seen a number of expats with really dark and obviously dyed hair. My thinking is, the stylists are used to dark hair here, almost exclusively, so that's why all the dark dye-jobs. But Sue's hair is blonde and it looked really nice, so I thought I'd give it a try. She said the guy, Jack (Chinese people often have a second English name they use with us expats) spoke some English, so I figured I would be able to communicate. For a backup I asked my Chinese tutor how to say things like "I want the same color" and "I want the same cut, just shorter". I thought I was ready and so I called and set up the appointment. Jack did indeed speak some English, and I used the two ensuing days to get myself in the right frame of mind.

See, I really hate getting my hair cut. I don't like being fussed over, I don't like having strangers running their fingers through my hair, and I don't like being at someone else's mercy quite so much. So whenever I'm going for a cut or color, I have to get myself prepped mentally for the experience. Also, I really resent the time spent sitting there, and since I've started coloring my hair, the time spent in the salon chair has quadrupled. I try to tell myself it's an opportunity to catch up on my reading.

So when I arrived I was ready, well except I forgot to learn or bring the Chinese phrases I'd asked my teacher about. And I didn't bring a picture like I intended. And I really wasn't in the mood to read for three hours. And I just really didn't want to be there. But I decided to "be a woman" and deal with my fate.

Jack did speak a bit of English, and he seemed to understand me when I explained through hand motions and modified English that I wanted the same color, he even held my hair up to the sample to show me. And I was pretty sure that showing him the "scissors" motion with my fingers and showing him where to cut was communicating just fine.

Well, the scissors thing worked. I really like the length, and he knew how to cut my hair in the layers like I wanted. In fact today when I washed it and let it dry curly, it actually looks better than it ever did curly before. Who would have thought a guy who spends his career cutting straight hair could cut it curly hair that well?

But then there is the color. He told me he would put in highlights, so I thought, okay, well why not. But when the towel came off my head, I was a little shocked. It was light, like really light. I thought to myself, "Okay, it's wet now, it's just gonna be lighter when it's dry" and once he blew it out, it was. I tried not to show the shock on my face, but sat there wondering why I didn't just say something.

I know women everywhere can relate to that moment of truth. You're sitting there in the chair, the hair stylist just did something you totally didn't expect, maybe it even makes you want to cry, but you, ever the stoic woman, sit there smiling as she fusses with your hair, proud of her handywork. The one time I tried to say, "Hey, this isn't what I asked for!" the guy persisted in telling me it looked great on me, so I finally had to give up. And with Jack and me not even speaking the same language and all, I figured it was futile to do anything but tell him the color was great. "Color good?" he asked. "Yes," I said, and smiled.

So, whenever I pass a mirror, I get that, "Who is that?" feeling. And today, with it curly, I've been singing the Cowardly Lion song from the Wizard of Oz to make the kids laugh. But I'm sure, with a little time, I'll get used to it. I always do.

Obama in China

Last night Emma and I went for an ice-cream run to the little grocery store in our apartment complex. When we first moved here the couple that runs the place seemed suspicious of us and rather gruff. But I used my not-so-good Chinese to tell them that we were Americans, and ever since they have been friendly, and giggle, amused, when I carefully pronounce the amount of money I have to pay in an attempt to practice Chinese.

So last night after we paid for our ice-cream bars the husband started to talk to me. I understood only one word, "mei guo", which is "America". I thought he was asking me if we were American, maybe he hadn't understood me the first time, but when I told him we were American again, he kept talking. I stood there with a confused look on my face as I tried to tell him I didn't understand. He persisted, and finally it dawned on me that there was one more word I understood: Obama. My look of confusion changed to one of recognition as I blurted out, "Obama!" "Obama!" he repeated and I gave him two thumbs up as we exchanged smiles. It seems that even a shop keeper in China is interested in the American presidential election.

I don't know exactly what our grocer was saying to me. Maybe he was saying that he can't believe we would elect Obama for president. But one thing is for sure: the entire world watched as our country elected, for the first time, a man with African heritage, for the most conspicuous and powerful job on earth. People from countries which hold no elections saw Americans choose a new kind of president and new party to represent us, illustrating that in a democracy, the country can change direction peacefully and by the will of the people. Even if they don't like the country's choice, the message is still there, that we are a free and inclusive society.

Like it or not, people look at us and often up to us. While it sounds nice to suppose that our election is our own, by Americans and for Americans, we can't ignore the fact that our choice of president is significant to people all over the world. For many, the election of Obama represents change, progress and optimism for the future. Beyond focusing on domestic policies and needs, of which there are obviously many, this election has given us a chance to shine as Americans, a chance to show the world how we really do things. Europeans, Chinese and Africans may not know or understand America's internal issues, and why should they, but they know that our country is not afraid to elect someone who appears different or out of the main stream. This is a powerful message to send to the world, and I'm proud that our nation has done that.

I hope that people from both parties will recognize the significance of this election, even if they don't agree with Obama's policies. That Americans told the world that a candidate like Barack Obama is their choice to represent us is both inspiring and humbling to me. And whatever my Chinese grocer was trying to say to me about it, he obviously knew that it was an important world event. On some level or another, he gets the message, too.

Well, it's been awhile since I've posted, and to be honest, every time I think about the computer it makes me tired. I never know if I can get into Hotmail, if the internet will crash, whatever. It's even been bad at work. So it just depresses me to think about it, and I have about 10 partly written emails in my drafts folder in Hotmail, so if you are someone who has written to me and I haven't responded, I appologize.

Speaking of being tired, Don and I have found it both strange and a relief to be out of the country for this election. I will admit it now: we are non-voters this time. We have what I think is a pretty valid excuse; moving our family across the world, starting new jobs and new schools for the kids has been pretty intense. I tell myself it really wouldn't make a difference in the grand scheme of things if I voted or not, but I've always been a believer that it is a citizen's duty to vote, and, well, I blew it. So I guess I feel guilty, is what I'm trying to say.

The reality of it is, though, that there are things about America I worry about far more than who or what party is in power. I am saddened by the political cynicism that pervades our society, eating away at our trust and diverting energy away from things that matter. When people assume that the "other side" are idiots or fanatics, how can real discussion of issues take place? When the first rule of debate is to call your opponent stupid, where can people go to weigh their options?

At my school right now, our third-grade unit is World Beliefs, including religion. One of the goals is to teach the beginnings of the skill of dialectical thought, or thinking about two or more points of view at the same time. This is a tall order for kids, especially when most adults seem to avoid this exercise in tolerance, and instead regress to labeling the opponent as deluded or unintelligent. As I understand it, dialectical discourse does not necessarily mean that both parties agree, but that each recognizes that the other has valid points to make.

I believe that engaging in political or idealogical name-calling, even on the ground level, does more harm to our country than any politician. When we no longer respect and acknowledge the ideas of our philosophical opposites, we diminish our own ability to reason and to persuade. It undermines the strength of our own opinions and lowers debate to school-yard bullying.

It's tempting to dismiss people with different views, but that is the lazy way out. Actually understanding another person's views is far more difficult, but the benefits are that we have a better framework for verbalizing our own ideas, and we are better able to persuade others, instead of just appealing to people's emotions. I believe that American's are capable of this kind of reasoned, rational debate, and long for a more civilized way of discussing sensitive topics, like politics and religion. My hope is that people learn how to think about more than one point of view at the same time. And they are welcome to join my third-graders as they learn how.

Our kitchen has arrived

Since we got our shipment, the kitchen seems so much more like home. Here are some pictures that show how we're fitting enough for a family of five in a tiny kitchen. Not bad, eh?



We shipped our refrigerator magnets we've collected from travels, just because we could!

We bought the storage rack here, but I'm glad threw the baskets into the shipment.







Kitchens have a drying rack in a drawer for small plates, bowls and chopsticks. Some of them are actually an appliance, with heat or air or something. Ours isn't that fancy. We wish it was a washing machine.

I'm particularly proud of the spice cabinet. I shipped the organizers. Look how great it is!







We moved this cabinet into the dining area to hold dishes. The bottom has our bakeware, cookbooks, and the snacks I buy for my other blog, awaiting review.














This is the first dinner with our newly shipped spices: Couscous with Chicken. Here's how to make it:

Saute some cubed chicken, diced onion and garlic. Add 1 Tbs cumin and 1 tsp paprika, and a dash of turmeric. Stir. Meanwhile cube carrots, bell pepper (any color), zucchini and eggplant, adding each as you cube them (hardest to softest). Stir frequently. Add chicken broth or bullion and water. Simmer over low heat until vegetables are soft. Add tomato wedges (they will just heat through). Serve over couscous or rice.

Not as good as the couscous our friend Nadia made us in France, but it will do. We have to do what we can!

If we haven't used it in four months do we really need it?

This evening we got our shipment from the US delivered. The school provided for up to three cubic meters per teacher to be shipped and we used about four of our six. As I mentioned in a previous post, deciding what to keep, give away, store, or ship was a major and long process. We ended up giving away a large majority of our belongings, whether to friends or to charity. I'm also sorry to say a lot of it ended up in the trash. Well, we tried, and it honestly feels pretty good to be free of that much stuff.

But we were a little nervous about getting our shipment today. We remembered that we shipped kitchen equipment and spices, which we have been noticing the lack of quite a bit. And we've also missed having books in the house. We are continually rereading or using for reference a number of our favorite books. We shipped a few boxes of these, as well as some favorite DVDs (CDs were all stored on a portable hard-drive). But we couldn't remember everything we put in the boxes, and were not sure it would all fit in our three-bedroom apartment. We've been feeling like, for the most part, the apartment fits our needs, but wondered if getting all our things from the US would make it feel packed.

Well, so far, so good. I thankfully shipped some storage shelves and bins for the kitchen, which fit nicely in the cupboards. With the bookshelf'/cupboard we moved from John's room serving as extra space for our baking supplies, the kitchen is entirely put away. We will do some minor readjustments, but it looks like it will fit, and look good to boot. And we actually have a lot of empty space in our hall closet. We thought it would be packed, but it has plenty of room for whatever else we decide to aquire here. We need more bookshelves, but not much more, the kids need some help organizing the personal items they shipped so they aren't in a pile on the bottom of their wardrobes, but other than that, it's looking pretty good. Oh, and we shipped some framed art prints as well, so it's starting to look more like the home we are used to.

The only frustrating thing is, we are missing some things we thought we shipped. Thinking back, we're pretty sure we neglected to put them in the stack for the movers, but we're not entirely certain. The bad thing is, it is a small box of our favorite Christmas decorations we wanted to have here, some irreplacable ceramics that Allyne made, and our picture of the temple. So it's things we really wanted, and would feel badly if they were lost forever. We're hoping Don's family will be able to tell us if they are back in Arizona, but it might not be possible to find out until we go back next summer.

I remember someone saying once, that if you haven't used something in a long time, you don't really need it, and most of this stuff hasn't been seen by us since we moved out of our house four months ago. That idea may fit a lot of situations, but after moving across the world, giving up almost all our things, I can tell you that having a some familiar items around the house again is a comforting thing. A few books and pictures, equipment to bake cookes and pizza, now it's really feeling like home.