Sweet Louise

While looking through lists of “Waiting children” on an adoption agency’s website, I saw a picture of 9-year-old  “ Louise” (the English name they assigned her).  She gazed out at the world with shy, eager eyes.  Searching.  When will she find, and be found by, an adoptive family? 

Louise has burn scars on her face and body, but otherwise seems healthy.  She is a determined little girl who has overcome the challenges life has thrown at her.  And  she would really like to have a family! 

One of the reasons that Louise has weighed so heavily on my heart is my concern  that in the sea of ‘waiting children’,  she might be passed over, unnoticed.   She’s been on the list for a while now, and the older she gets, the more unlikely it is that she will be chosen by a prospective family.  Sure, when she is 13 and about to “age out” of the system, she’ll get some more attention; a family might choose her then.   But wouldn’t it be a shame for her to lose out on those formative years  she could have had with a loving family?

Sweet, resilient  Louise wants a family, and she needs one.  She needs to be loved, accepted as she is, to be assured that she is beautiful.  She needs the confidence that can only come within the security of a loving family’s embrace.  Are you her family?  She’s waiting for you here in China.

Sorry, I can’t post her picture here, but if you would like more info. on Louise, please go to this link:

http://lifelinechild.org/new-hope-journey-lifelines-individual-list/

She’s listed halfway down the page (with the “L”s).  If you are interested,  there is an e-mail you can contact at the top of the page.

 Also,  this agency has written  a GREAT blog post about her,  with lots of additional info and pics.

Just register at:  wonderfulwaitingkids.com ,  then when you are approved, you can go to this link:

http://wonderfulwaitingkids.com/2012/louisecalla/

Takes a bit of time, but worth the wait!  

The Warriors of Xian

During the same October break (2011), we left Xinjiang province after a few days, and headed to Xian.  We went there to see the terracotta soldiers, but that is not the only thing about Xian that was memorable.  For about a month before this trip, I had been following the blog of an expat family living in Xian.  They have 3 kids of their own, and are foster parenting a chinese orphan who is HIV+.  We had also been foster parents in the past, and I felt a sort of connection with them.  Since we were going to visit Xian anyway, we e-mailed them to ask if they wanted to meet up while we were there (hopefully that wasn't against any unspoken rules of blog-followers!).

This family graciously invited us to dinner, and we were able to see firsthand how they have turned their home into a warm, loving place.  It is obvious that they want to reach out with love to the lonely and abandoned, and they have a real gift for hospitality and parenting.  Later in the year, they fostered 2 more HIV+ children for several months; this means they were caring for a total of 6 children!  We were so impressed and inspired by their selflessness.  It's even more impressive to note that this couple is younger than us!  We know that being a foreigner in China is not easy, and that being a foster parent can be incredibly difficult.  But this family chooses to face the daily struggles and challenges, because they know their lives serve a higher purpose.  They are some of the true "warriors" of Xian. We know several people like this in our own city, our own province, and I know that there are others like this in Xian, as well.  They give of themselves so they can make a difference, even if it's one child at a time. Obviously, I have so much respect for these folks!

For those of you who are wondering about the warriors of the "terracota" variety, here are some pics.

Tuyoq

Although we enjoyed Urumqi, we didn't want to spend all our time in the city.  After all, we were coming from eastern China, which is basically one giant city.  So we found out about a place that even our Lonely Planet guide didn't talk about.  Very remote.  Our kind of place.  A tiny, dusty village called Tuyoq, tucked away into the mountainous desert.  It took a few hours' drive to get there, but it was well worth it.  Although it was an ancient village, it had a very authentic feel, since people were still living it it.  We were charged a fee to enter the settlement, which seemed almost eerily quiet.  We saw a few friendly people here and there;including one welcoming man who persuaded us to buy some of his raisins (my husband claimed they were the best he'd ever eaten).  A few giggling children played nearby and stared, intrigued by the "foreigners". We walked through the narrow streets, peeking in at this or that tiny building, sometimes not knowing if it was in use or not.  Interestingly, the men of the village seemed to be installing some sort of piping system, and had dug up many of the roads.  Several times we found ourselves precariously edging along the path, trying not to fall into a deep hole.  We wonder if maybe they were installing a system for running water.

So many interesting things to see here, including a very old mosque, an ancient tomb, and the ruins of old homes.  This was definately one of the neatest places we've ever been.

Urumqi

Since the exhausting school year is over, and I have some time on my hands, I want to post about some of the coolest places we’ve been in China.  Up first: Urumqi (Which, surprisingly, is pronounced “ur-a-mooo-che”).

It was a week-long vacation in October.  Our fellow teachers were sunning themselves and relaxing on  the pristine beaches of the Philippines.  We were driving for hours through the desert of China’s “wild west”, a 3-year- old in tow.  Were we crazy?  Probably.  However, we had long looked forward to travelling to Xinjiang province (in the northwest corner of China).  Because of its proximity to Central Asia (all the “-stans”) there are many ethnic minorities living there; including the Kazak and Uyghur peoples, who are predominantly Muslim.  So many interesting cultural influences mixed in with the mainstream Han Chinese.   My husband has lived in Uzbekistan before, so he was looking forward to some good Central Asian cookin’!

Our first stop was the city of Urumqi.  There in the main square, across from a mosque and a KFC, was a 5-story bazaar that was a souvenir-shopper’s paradise!  Merchants sold every type of local handicraft from carpets, to wood carvings, to traditional clothing and jewelry.  Definitely my favorite part of the city!  For lunch, my husband was pleased to find a small restaurant that served  Central Asian cuisine.  He immediately ordered “plov” (rice pilaf cooked in OIL) and various greasy pastries.  It was to be the first of many such meals we would enjoy that week.  So greasy, but so good!  We agree that we have no idea how the Uzbeks and Kazaks live past age 40, with a diet like that!

Hong Kong: To Like or Not to Like? (Part 2)

Now safely on the other side of the harbor, we had arrived in what is known as "Central". Our collegues had raved about this place, so we were full of expectation. We set as our destination the "zoological gardens". To get to most places in "Central", a cool escalator system is set up. Since the entire area is built on the side of a mountain, the idea is to just let the escalators take you up, and you have to switch escalators after every street/block. This is a very cool idea, except when one section of the escalator is broken. Stairs are much less fun. Finally, we resorted to taking a taxi up to the top of the mountain (where the zoological gardens most inconveniently happened to be located). We soon found here that the emphasis was on "gardens", and that you had to be a mountain goat to explore them. There were a few bird cages and some lemurs, but the steep inclines took away our enthusiasm to look for anything else. Satisfied that we had a least given "Central" a try, we decided our excursion was over, took a harrowing taxi ride down the mountain, and re-crossed the harbour on the 'magical' ferry.

To be fair to Hong Kong, it does have some great restaurants. You can find any type of ethnic cuisine there, as well as American comfort food chain restaurants (T.G.I.Fridays, Outback steakhouse, etc.). We expats from the mainland love to indulge in these Western delights. Hong Kong is also a great place to get "souveniry" -type things. Ladies Street and Temple Street are both great for this. However, be warned: don't even casually ask the price of something unless you love it and are ready to bargain to the death for it. The vendors in the stalls know some english, and they aren't afraid to use it! They won't want to let you go until they've made the sale. Sometimes even after you've left their "shop", they will follow you with calculator, shouting "how much? How much?" (do you want to pay). This is especially hard to deal with if you've decided you don't really want the item at all. I discovered one way to get out of the situation is to quote a price so low that they are disgusted with me and stop trying to bargain. I've even been thrown out of a shop before for that! However, offending people is probably not the best way to go, in general. It's better to see bargaining as a game . . . I think they do!

Isaac at the Charlie Brown Restaurant

So that was our Hong Kong trip. And as we made our weary way back across the border, I was very glad to be back in China . . . where everything makes sense! (?)

Hong Kong: To Like or Not to Like? (Part 1)

In the interest of saving money, we went almost nowhere during Christmas break. And since everyone we knew was out of the country, we endured a loney week with no one to talk to but ourselves! A month later, Chinese New Year rolled around, and we were determined that history should not repeat itself. Again, all our colleagues were going to frolic on sunny beaches in exotic locals (apparently China isn't exotic enough). So we decided to plan a beach vacation in Thailand . . . at least that's where our thought processes began. Gradually the plan got whittled down to one night in a Hong Kong hotel with an indoor pool. Almost the same, right? We comforted ourselves with money saved. And we bided our time here in China through 40 degree weather, perpetual nightly fireworks, and a city that had basically shut itself down for 2 weeks. On Tuesday, we headed down to Hong kong for our night of luxury (well, as luxurious as life can be with a 4-year old). Now, let it be known that I dislike Hong Kong. Everyone else we know thinks it's the best city on earth, an "exhilerating" experience full of boundless wonders. I see it quite a different way. Perhaps I'm full of sour grapes, but here is an account of Hong Kong through the eyes of one overwhelmed expat.

First of all, Hong Kong is very different from China. The chinese there not only have the audacity to speak Cantonese (instead of mandarin), but they also drive on the "wrong" side of the street. Evidently this was a problem for the poor pedestrians of the city, as large metal fences and stone barricades have been erected around the edges of all the sidewalks, and in between all the lanes. These send the message; don't even think about crossing the street! As a result, we were forced to wander for miles through underground tunnels just to get across the street. Ok, well it seemed like miles. Add to this a very large population crammed into relatively small spaces, so that when we do get to the other side of the street, there is much jostling and dodging, and generally trying not to trip over everyone else.

Next, I shall venture to say that perhaps Hong Kong's tourist attractions might be slightly overrated. During this trip, we decided to try out the famous "star ferry" which takes passagers on a whimsical journey through Victoria harbour. Every HK online tourist site recommended this as one of the top things to do. Former passengers on the boat left many comments full of fond recollection of their experiences. More than one recounted feeling at peace with the universe and a 'cosmic' sense of understanding after their voyage (I kid you not). So we entered the ferry expecting something extraordinary, waiting for an epiphany of some sort to descend upon us. However, since the boat ride is only literally 5 minutes long, I only had time to take a few pictures before we pulled into the opposite side of the harbor. Alas, no epiphany!

Rules of the Road

My husband and I have a running joke that China has only 2 "rules of the road" : (ahem) ' I think I can make it!' (as in: " I think I can zip over three lanes and manuever my way into the thee feet between the red car and the giant moving bus") and "There are no other cars . . " (or bikes). So, in a nutshell, that is how people drive here. I think if they visited America, the drivers would be confused at our willingness to just sit there in traffic. Why should we let two little yellow lines stop us from going into the other lane? If it's clear, it's obviously a passing lane! We've seen taxis here have to drive backwards on a bridge, because they tried to pass in the other lane, and there were actually cars coming from the other direction (I always get nervous in one of those impatient taxis).
So anyway, my story begins when we tried to take a taxi to a nearby Indian restaurant. Trying to take a 'shortcut' our taxi driver headed down an increasingly narrow road . .. . during this time, he began to yell irately into his cell phone (no hands-free rule here). After a few turns, the road became more of an alley, in a poor neighborhood. Cars were parked on the side, which meant there was only roon for one car at a time on the road. Undaunted, our driver sped ahead, yelling into the phone and dodging cars here and there. And then there came a point in the narrow alley where he came face to face with a truck, and neither of the two vehicles had room to squeeze by. So what is the most logical thing to do in this situation? Well, the drivers decided to just sit there. Our driver turned off the engine! He continued bellowing into his cell (probably complaining about the truck), seemingly unconcerned about his paying passengers. The truck driver sat there, willing to wait it out. Once I saw him examining his fingernails. Neither said a word to each other. This might have lasted for quite a while, had we not become anxious and asked the driver whether we were going or not? Our prompt seemed to remind the driver of his job, as he put the window down and directed his yelling at the truck driver, who in turn flew into a sudden rage. For several minutes, they each yelled at the other to move, blaming each other for the impass. Things reached quite a volume. Finally, the truck driver grumbled, backed up and let us pass. And so now we know another rule of driving in China; he who yells the loudest, wins!