This One Time in China...

This one time in China I was told that eight was a lucky number. Coincidentally, this is my eighth and final blog about my trip.

This one time in china I saw a sign in a public restroom over a toilet "Please don't stand on the WC". Funny how I had never considered that before.

This one time in China my brother said condoms in Chinese were called "jizbombs".

This one time in China I realized that even the Chinese think my brother is cool.

This one time in China J(my brother's friend) said he felt like we were in Oz. We followed a yellow brick road every where (A yellow stripe was on all the sidewalks, under them are the pipes, or so we were told). You were supposed to ignore the man behind the curtain which could either refer to all the cameras on lampposts, or all the men standing on the sides of the roads (or sidewalks)peeing. And lastly, we most certainly were not in Kansas anymore.

This one time in China my brother and I called our youngest brother in Buffalo, NY for his birthday. It was 1 am his time. We scored his first birthday wish of the day! This lead to a brief thought about paybacks. So, the following rule has been set...

*To make a birthday greeting call at an ungodly hour the following must occur;

- A minimum of two family members who reside in different homes must be in the same location, using one phone and can only call on the actual birthday of the other family member.

Violation of this may be punishable by noogies, wedgies, excessive teasing and unfair practices at the next penny scramble. These are, as of now actual posted rules, and must be adhered to. They are enforceable regardless of city, country or continent.

This one time in China I bought a 20 oz. Coke Light (version of Diet Coke, but not as "AHHH-licious") and a good size bucket of popcorn (almost tasted like kettle corn) for 14rmb...roughly $2. I had paid $2.69 for a 20 oz. Diet Coke at the Chicago airport.

This one time in China we had the funniest taxi driver. He spoke very little English, but just how you would imagine a Chinese person would talk with Americans. He had such a nice smile and such broken English and was so happy. "Hello, Where you going." Just thinking about it makes me smile. He also slapped away my sister in law's hands as she used them to give directions...very funny.

This one time in China my brother told me they have a half marathon on the Great Wall. I can't even imagine. Parts of it were so steep (see photo) and there were so many stairs.

This one time in China I went to the Forbidden City, the Ming Tombs, the Great Wall of China. I shopped the Pearl Market and Yoshow in Beijing. I went to the Beijing Zoo and saw panda bears and beluga whale. I went to IKEA for the first time.

This one time in China I drank a whole beer and ate a meal completely with chopsticks. I even had thirds of green beans, which I don't normally like.

This one time in China I had two wonderful foot massages. Actually these two times in China I had a wonderful foot massage.

This one time in China a girl moved on the subway to a different spot and I took her spot...she didn't call 'place back'.

This one time I went to China and didn't talk to my kids or husband for 6 entire days and the world didn't stop, we all survived, even though it was the longest I have gone without my kids in nearly 20 years.

This one time in China I remembered how truly fortunate I am to have a hard working, supportive husband, healthy, intelligent kids and a nice home overflowing with material stuff, electricity, soap, water, toilet paper and love.

This one time in China I had an incredible, delightful adventure with my generous brother and equally amazing sister in law, but there is no place like home.

*The previous series of blogs was brought to you courtesy of my observations during my trip to Beijing, China. I mean no harshness in my words, I do not mean to portray Chinese people as rude, they are simply Chinese and do things differently than most Americans. I had a great time sightseeing and people watching. If you want to read more about Chinese experiences, check out my brother and sister in law's blog http://www.roamingfryer.com/ . They are living in China for my brother's job and have made many observations. They really are about the coolest people I have ever met.

Dumb American

I wonder how often "Dumb American" was mumbled about me during my stay in China. I said it about myself three times, so I imagine the number would be high.

One morning I must have been heavily jet lag influenced as I pushed the button on the elevator to get to the lobby. The elevator arrived, the doors opened, I got on, the doors closed. Nothing. The elevator didn't move. Only I didn't notice.

At this hotel, you needed to slide your room key in the elevator to make the elevator move. I had gotten into the elevator and not only failed to slide my card, but didn't even attempt to push any buttons. I just stood there. It wouldn't have been as humiliating, but after several moments someone else pushed the 'down' button to request an elevator and I realized I was still on my floor. Dumb American.

The other thing your room key does, besides unlock your door, is it operates the electricity in your hotel room. Your key must be in the slot to make the lights work. My brother told me this the day I arrived, and since I had two keys, I just left one in the slot at all times (It allowed the air conditioning to stay on, otherwise I would walk into a warm room). Since I placed my extra key in the slot and left it there, I never thought about it again.

Night four of my stay as I climbed into bed I noticed that the bed was missing a top sheet. It as midnight though and I didn't want to call housekeeping (there would have been a language barrier anyway) and I had my pajamas on so walking to the English speaking concierge was out of the question. I just slept without the sheet...trying not to think about who slept in the bed before I arrived or when the last time that cover was washed.

In the morning I noticed a light bulb in the bathroom was burned out. Whatever. I got ready for the day and was gone until dinner time. When I came back to my room to freshen up for dinner I had no power. I figured it was just another thing gone wrong, you know how things seem to come in threes? Well, I figured no power was my number three. So, I went down to the concierge and said the lights weren't working in my room. She said "Is your key in the slot." DUH! I hadn't even thought about it. I wish I could've seen the look on my face. I must have looked so funny. I stumbled over my words..."I don't know, I have just been leaving the card there..." Anyway, the girl was so nice, she just went ahead and made me a new key. I went back to my room and sure enough, housekeeping had adjusted the (original) key so that it was hanging out of the slot. They also put the top sheet back on the bed. And changed the light bulb. Dumb American.

I needed more cash to shop with, so I headed down to the ATM. I do not travel internationally often. In fact, my passport had expired since my last international trip, which was also my first international trip. (And I didn't have an ATM card the last trip) So, I get to the ATM machine and push the "English" key. I follow the prompts, which includes strict warnings about looking for cameras, wiping the keys off before entering you PIN and making sure nobody is around you.

After several prompts, I get to the screen for withdrawal amounts. I punch in $100. In my mind, I had pushed "English" at the beginning of the session, so I expected to receive the equivalent of $100 US dollars, but in Renminbi (rmb). Nope. I received 100 rmb...about $16 US dollars. Dumb American.

In an effort to lessen the number of shoes I packed (which was 5) I did not pack tennis shoes. I did pack a pair of Croc mary janes (no jokes please, I find them very comfy). Anyway, I had developed a blister the day before heading to the Great Wall. My Crocs were my best walking shoes. I decided I would just wear socks with the Crocs. I was trying to say how Chinese I would look wearing the socks (all the Chinese women wear these ankle high socks with their shoes)but then decided I wanted to say how silly I would look. Well, it came how "I look chilly." My brother thought I said it perfectly...adding a 'ch' to the start of any word automatically makes it Chinese. (We are aware we need to have our hand baskets close at hand)I don't know if the lack of tennis shoes being packed, or the socks with Crocs qualifies for a Dumb American tag or not. The socks did help me blend in though. At least from the ankles down. I also learned a valuable lesson. Always pack more shoes.

Pictured below are my pink Crocs with socks and typical ankle socks the Chinese women wear with ALL types of shoes)

Photo of sign with Chinese spelling (of Taxi)

I have new respect for foreign travelers. I will be less harsh joking about their faux pas and their stereotypical photo taking behaviors. After all, I spent a week in their country being the "Dumb American" taking pictures of toilets, baby butts and footwear choices.

I'm Ready for IKEA (and Other Things You Probably Have to See to Believe)

I have never been to IKEA. After flying for 15 hours due west, I hopped in a cab and had my first IKEA shopping experience. My brother and sister in law gave me the deluxe tour. IKEA, Beijing. I can't really tell you what they sell there. I can tell you what happens there.

It appears that the couches (1st stop) are very comfortable. Several must come with very high recommendations. How do I know this? At least 20 models had people, no, grown men, sleeping on them. Maybe they were just resting their eyes the way my dad sometimes watches t.v., but it appears they were sleeping, sitting straight up, head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar. I believe they rated the couches 3-4 snores.

IKEA is also apparently the perfect place to go on a date. I know, not your first thought for (an American)date night. But, in Beijing, it seems to be the place to be. Of course, your date needs to be during business hours. We saw several couples in separate family room settings cozied on the couches, having a personal, friendly chat. You can visualize it, can't you? Girl has a leg tucked under her, turned toward the boy who has a pillow on his lap, elbow resting on the back on couch, staring deeply into the girls eyes. Both have nervous smiles. They are oblivious to the rest of the world, or in this case, the throng of the IKEA shoppers.

The IKEA kitchens are the place to be for neighborhood coffee. Or maybe it was a book club? Maybe it was a Tupperware party. OK, I'm stretching what I saw a bit to embellish the story. I did see 4 or 5 women standing around the kitchen counter like they were filming a coffee commercial. Maybe they were just waiting for fresh coffee? I know! They were waiting for the husbands to choose a couch!

All of this IKEA stuff is new to me, and I was fascinated. I never thought about IKEA as anything more than a place to spend money! After my trip, I know there is so much more to do there!

I think IKEA'S main purpose, at least in Beijing, is to provide a nap area for small children. I wish I had photos of this. It was my first day and I had not yet mastered the "photo on the sly". I also was nervous about the guards and cameras everywhere. I also hadn't realized yet how blatant I could get with my photography. I'd go back to Beijing just to take pictures of this wonder of the world..."Naptime at IKEA". Unless...hmm...maybe this is how they display the children up for adoption. That thought hadn't crossed my mind until now... Yeah, I'll probably want to avoid lightening for a few days after that remark.

Anyway, I am not kidding, little children nap at IKEA. Not like American children nap at stores, in carts, or strollers, or in their parents arms. No, in Beijing's IKEA, little children nap IN THE BEDS. In nearly every bed, a small child was sleeping. Their shoes were placed neatly on the floor near the foot of the bed. They were carefully tucked in and a parent was sitting a short distance away engrossed in a book, magazine or perhaps the IKEA catalog. Maybe they were playing Angry Birds. The few empty beds we saw were unmade, sometimes still warm. A couple looked dirty, as if the sheets hadn't been changed for a few weeks.

The Chinese people at IKEA brought to mind The Three Little Bears and Goldilocks. At the end of the store, you would know which bed was just right and assume the empty beds were either too hard or too soft. The same for the couches. And kitchen cabinets. (Only they would be too small, too big, too tall...)

Other Beijing sights that probably need to be seen to believed are the family of three, or four on a single seat moped. It could really be a viral ad "I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance." I saw nine people in a regular sedan size car, you know, the kind with like 5 seat belts? The windows of this car were all steamy. None of them had a clown nose on.

I asked my brother about car seats for children, as I saw nobody using them. Granted, on the moped it would be tricky. He laughed. It seems there is no Chinese word for car seat. Most car seats are probably manufactured in China, but there is no word for car seat. My brother has found this to be true of several common American products that are manufactured in China. Items are made there, but not used there, so have no word for them. Imagine the dinner conversation "What did you do at work today Dad?" "Well son, I spent the day putting dohickeys on thingamajigs for the white people to strap little children in so they can do something." Here's a concern...if they don't know what the item is, or what it's for, how do they know if they are building it correctly, or safely?

As we were riding to The Great Wall, I was writing notes for my blog. J (my brother's friend, goes by "Slappy") says "Looks like a fire drill." I expect to look up and see people filing out of a building. Instead, I looked up to see two men, on the highway, running around a parked car...on the highway. I saw an honest to goodness Chinese Fire Drill! How exciting! That wasn't even on our itinerary!

There are cameras everywhere in China. Not ones used for personal use, cameras hung in town, on light posts, monitored by security personnel. I think the government keeps very close tabs on it's people. Some folks believe my brother is also closely watched, that perhaps his driver and housekeeper go through random briefing sessions to make sure my brother is in China for the reasons he has said. Work. (In fact, since I've mentioned it...I'll interrupt this blog for a word from our sponsor. The next time you are in the market for a push mower, a tractor or perhaps a combine, consider John Deere. Nothing runs like a Deere. Now back to the regularly scheduled blog...)My brother provided a good laugh when after switching the subway line several times he said he imagined the guy trailing him on the phone saying "Boss, I need more nickles, he's on the subway again."

For the record, Howie Mandel would not like China. There is way too much touching.

We passed one area, by Worker's Stadium (which was used during Beijing's turn to host the Olympics) where all these men were standing looking at what appeared to be 10 or so large bulletin boards.The newspaper was posted on the boards and the men stood and read, moved down to the next board for the next section. I wonder if in the morning they wear their robes and drink coffee while doing this? A few feet from the public newspaper display were more men in groups. Most were hollering loudly. They were playing a game that looked like checkers, but they were slamming the tokens down and shouting. They also played cards in the same fashion, yelling and slamming the cards on the table. I have no idea what they were playing, or what the rules were, but it was fun to watch.

Many women in China wear lightweight fabric sleeves on their arms if they are wearing short sleeved shirts.Some have gloves built into the sleeves. I saw a few that looked like a bib with arms. Many other women carry parasols (not umbrellas, parasols are for sun, umbrellas for rain). Women I suspect wish their skin to stay pale, so they protect themselves from the sun. Men on the other hand must value a tanned belly (read a few blogs back about telling the temperature). An important message! Sunglasses are crucial when touring China! They protect your eye from coming into contact with parasols.

I found China and it's people fascinating. The people watching was the best I've ever witnessed! I saw things I've never seen before and learned so much. I can't wait to move to Denver and check out the new IKEA. I could use a nap.

Tag Me on Facebook

Since my brother and SIL have been in China, they have experienced a paparazzi-esque type thing. Everywhere they go, they are stopped and asked to be in a photo with one of the locals.

When my brother turned 40 a few years ago, my whole family surprised him with a visit. We all wore shirts saying "Joe* is 40" and gave him a shirt saying "I am Joe". (*the name has been changed to protect the over 40) I am thinking perhaps he should wear that shirt around his town in China so the paparazzi can ask for him by name, or at least know who they are photographing. I mean besides the white guy.

During my stay in China I was asked twice to be in a photo. Once a very nervous young man (maybe 15) asked me in English "Do you speak Chinese?" I said "No, but he does" and pointed to my brother. My brother shook his head and the young man proceeded to ask (in English) "Could I take your picture." Of course I said, "Yes".

The second time, a little girl (about 7) came up to me, pointed to me, then to her camera. I nodded. She ran back to her mother and handed her the camera, then ran back to stand by me. I posed with 2 fingers up ('peace' to us, 'victory' to the Chinese). We saw nearly all the young people doing this particular pose.

Both of the requests happened while we were touring the Forbidden City. My brother and SIL were also requested to be in pictures there. For some reason, their tall, strawberry blond friend J (A.K.A. Slappy) was not asked. We were also not asked to pose as multiples, or as a group. It seemed the locals liked to separate us from our herd of four. Maybe they asked the slowest? The weakest? Maybe nobody would believe a photograph with more than one white person was real?

I toured China and took photos of all sorts of things. I took photos of people as sneaky as I could because I found their attire, or in the case of children, their lack of attire, interesting. I found the vehicles interesting. I found the sheer number of people intriguing. I took lots of photos, on the sly. When we were in the Forbidden City, it became quickly apparent that photos were being taken of us...on the sly. Once we caught on to this, we started being silly, flashing peace signs, smiling, letting the photographer know, that we knew. After we saw how blatant people were about taking our picture, I just started being blatant about my photo taking. Of course, I would be easier to spot in a crowd if the subject wasn't happy I took their picture...

J said "Sometimes you're the spectator, sometimes you're the show" (or something to that effect). We were the show an awful lot.

Little kids especially seemed in awe of the herd of white people. They would say "foreigner" (in Chinese) and tug on their parents sleeve. If my brother heard this, he would say "correct" (in Chinese) which really baffled the kids. Some school age kids thought it was funny to get real close to you (like close enough to lick you) and shout "Hello" (in English) then they would run away and giggle. I imagined a scavenger hunt... Photo with an American 5 points. Speak to an American 7 points. Photo with an American flashing the peace sign 6 points. Photo of American without them knowing 10 points.

If I ever go to China again, I think I'll wear a shirt that says (in Chinese) "photos available - 1 rmb". Or one that says "Tag me on facebook". If I had worn one this trip I think I would have 700 new tags.

We had loads of fun playing "Where's Waldo" China style. We would walk into a crowd, alone, and have another person from our herd take a photo of us. J was an easy spot because of his height and hair color. My SIL is a fairly easy spot as she is fair skinned and strawberry blondish hair. My brother is starting to blend a bit, but still is a white guy. I have brown hair and I'm short. I added a level of difficulty to the game. With the ever present "Great Wall of People" the game is tough, but makes for lots of laughs. (My brother is in first photo, I am in the next two)

Certainly the four of us were the talk-abouts at the dinner table (as in "Guess what I saw in town today"). We will also be featured in many "On my summer vacation" reports (as in "on my summer vacation I had my photo taken/said 'hello' to a white person!" They have the photos to prove it.

Now, if only China approved the use of facebook we could get on with the business of tagging.

Sights, Sounds and Sensations

During my six day stay in Beijing I experienced a plethora of sense sensations. My eyes could not devour the sights quickly enough. Everywhere I looked, I saw something you don't see everyday. Even my brother, who currently lives in China says "Every day in China you see something you don't see everyday."

I went to the Beijing Zoo and saw panda bears and beluga whales. I saw the Great Wall of China (both the structure and the wall of people). I saw the Forbidden city and Ming Tombs. I saw more traffic than I will see cumulatively for the next 12 years. I saw baby butts and toddlers squatting to pee...in public. I saw lots of men peeing on the sides of the roads, or off the main sidewalks at the touristy places.

I'm not sure how long it will take for my mind to digest all my eyes saw. It was visual stimulation to the nth degree. It was fabulous! I have been home for almost two weeks and I am still thinking of things I witnessed and haven't told anyone about. I haven't come off my high.

Not to be left out, my ears also were consistently stimulated. The constant sound of the Chinese language, often loud and angry sounding. The endless horn honking from vehicles. The banter from the vendors. My ears were on full alert.

I am amazed at the level of ability my brother and sister in law have for speaking and understanding Mandarin. They have only been in China since November. It was fun to hear them talk. It was really fun when a native took the time to converse with them (usually a taxi driver or shop keeper) as my brother and SIL would laugh and often learn something new. After a few days, I was starting to hear the same words over and over, so I too was learning, but on a much, MUCH, slower curve.

It seems a requirement to honk the horn every three to five feet when driving. Perhaps the horn was attached to the tires and automatically honked when the tire made a complete rotation. Yes, I know that isn't how it really worked, but if you heard all the honking, you would know why I think that. Horns blared in moving and unmoving vehicles alike. It was acceptable (or standard) to honk to alert the traffic in front of you that you are there. The honk was a vehicles way of saying "Stop. I dare you." If all the horns had been in different keys, it would have been a lovely symphony. However, it all sounded the same, so it was just loud, constant noise. After a few days, you tuned the horn noise out...at least during the day. The horns still blared when you went to bed and were usually the first thing you heard in the morning, even before your alarm clock.

We went to the Pearl Market and Yoshow for some full contact shopping. It is a sport filled with great fun and challenging scores. As you approach stalls,you are accosted by the vendors. They grab your arm shouting things like "Hey lady, wanna buy purse (t-shirt, jacket, scarf...)". When you do stop to inquire about an item, you ask "How much?". They respond with "I give you good price."(Other common phrases include "Special price for you.", "This handmade.", "We friends. For you this price...") Then they pull out a giant calculator and the punch in a number.

You negotiate back and forth using the giant calculator. I had asked for tips before trying this out myself. I had my brother and SIL do the first few rounds of negotiating, telling them how much $$ in US currency I was willing to spend, then we translated that to rmb (Chinese currency) and started negotiating. I was curious about if you tell them from the start how much you are offering and stand firm, or start low and go up to your comfort level. I tried both methods, 'cause I love a bargain! Always after your first offer, the vendor looks at the number and says "You joking! Give me serious price." Or sometimes "I make no money at this price." If you can't agree on a price and walk away, the vendor starts hollering "OK,OK, OK." and you go back and pay them...your price. It was fun! I came home with many treasures, all at a special, good price, 'cause they were all my friends and often their first customer of the day. Really, they told me!

My ears had one final treat in Beijing. The morning I left, at 6:15am I heard fireworks. Only in my sleep, I thought they were gunshots and I must have jumped a mile. My brother and SIL chuckled when I asked about the noise. They said it is common to hear fireworks in the morning. Probably a new store was opening, or possibly someone was celebrating the day. It was August 8th (8/8) and '8' is a lucky number in China. I still suspect my leaving was being celebrated.

You can't properly discuss the senses without mentioning smell. There are street vendors everywhere selling different types of food. I saw lots of fruits and lots of cooked sausages. The sausage was normally on a stick and sometimes cut so it looked like petals of a flower, or spikes of a cactus. There was also frequently something that looked like a pancake, or tortilla. I didn't try any street vendor food as I didn't get my Hepatitis C shot...and the cleanliness seemed concerning to me. I think I have already covered the smell of the public toilets...and after talking about food, well, not a good mix.

My favorite, very favorite part of the Beijing sense stimulation was a trip to Bohdi for a foot massage. The place was clean, and cool and fantastic. In fact, this overload of fabulous stimulation was so good, we went twice (in my six day stay!)There were four of us, my brother, my SIL, brother's friend Slappy (A.K.A. J) and myself. We were in a room with lovely purple recliners all in a line. During the first trip there, my SIL said "I am trying hard not to make any noises." It made me laugh because I was thinking, "If I keep biting my tongue, I won't recreate the scene from 'When Harry met Sally'." The experience was so good that at one time I am pretty sure I forgot my name.

Anyway, to call this experience a foot massage is completely unfair. To say my feet were massaged IS fair. But so were my back, arms, hands, neck and legs. The whole experience starts with your feet soaking in very hot tea, in an old wooden bucket (lined with a plastic liner). All I could think about during this part is when you are a young girl having slumber parties and how people would talk about dipping the first girl who falls asleep hand in water to make them wet the bed. Pretty sure hot water on the feet would have worked better. Thank God for kegels. What? TMI?

On our second visit, we all relaxed more as we knew what to expect and were all determined to get the most relaxation we could. We all closed our eyes, a few of us may have even fallen asleep. (Nobody who lives in the US...it's a China thing. I'll explain in a later blog.)We had four men do the first massages and four women do the second massages. They all work in unison for an hour and fifteen minutes. The two massages were very similar, although each therapists did seem to have a few special tricks. My second massage included a LOUD back cracking which felt excellent and lead to the first night in about 6 months with no back pain during my sleep. (This was later compromised by a 15 hour plane ride...but it still...it was AWESOME!)I may have let a small moan escape.

Yes, a foot massage at Bodhi was definitely a highlight of the sense-sational trip to Beijing. If you are ever traveling to Beijing, be sure to schedule your appointment. Check their website (they are located across from Worker's stadium). This blogger gives them 5 stars and 2 big toes up. Oh! And try the pear juice!

Speaking of pear juice makes my taste buds tingle. I had never heard of pear juice before. It tasted like cucumber and for some unknown reason (probably a good one) it was frothy.

Beijing is host to many visitors. Most of the places we ate were largely populated by non-Chinese. We had pizza and burgers. We did have two more traditional Chinese meals that included tofu skin, duck and green beans with some yummy sauce (I had three helpings, and I don't like green beans). Bless my brother and SIL souls, I didn't have any jellyfish, stinky tofu or any other things that I would have felt bad for rejecting. I did have to spit out a chunk of ginger. I thought it was a water chestnut. SURPRISE! The food was terrific. I even had a beer. My first in probably 20 years.

One sight my husband will be sorry he missed...the hotel room. More specifically the bathroom. The room was beautiful, and the wall dividing the sleeping portion from the bathing section was actually a full, floor to ceiling window. The shower was full, clear glass. You could bathe or pee and watch the tv in the other room. It was like being in a fish bowl while doing your most personal things. He would have loved it. I did love it...because I was alone. With company, it would have been painful. I don't care to be on display while naked. I was thankful I was in the room alone. (And that there was a closeable shade in case your husband does make the trip.)

My head is still spinning from the sensory overload. My brain will continue processing. I will continue smiling. I will forever be grateful for the invitation and hospitality from my brother and SIL . Keyi?

Your American is Showing

I visited my brother and sister in law in Beijing, China for six days. Although my physical appearance and the fact that I spoke English was a pretty dead give away that I was American, there were other things that gave me away.

My brother had four coworkers and a friend there too, and amongst our group, you would heard exclamations of "Your American is Showing", normally from me, as I found the things we Americans do as funny when immersed in the Chinese culture.

When we would cross the street, and wait for traffic to clear, it was like a Bill Engvall moment "Here's your sign", only the sign said "Your American is Showing." Try to be polite when entering or exiting an elevator or subway? "Your American is Showing." If you said "Excuse me" or "Sorry" when bumping into someone, your American Flag was flapping loudly in the breeze. As I've previously mentioned, bumping into someone was just the way China worked. It was virtually impossible to NOT bump into people. For the record, the weather was hot and HUMID, so the breeze comment is just for literary effect, there was in fact no breeze.

The funniest example of "Your American is Showing" was during our second foot massage (more on that in my next blog) and one of the therapists sneezed. My SIL had already told me people in China don't say "Bless you", as sneezing is just a bodily function, no need to be blessed (yet in the Chinese temples they have something about 10 inches tall in the doorway to step over to trick the evil spirits, and have curved walkways in the gardens to trick evil spirits). Anyway, during our second foot massage, my brother's friend J (A.K.A. Slappy the Clown for reasons I have yet to uncover) said 'Bless you" to the gal that sneezed. The room was completely silent. It could have been because the girls working on our feet spoke little English, but then the story isn't as funny. As a side note, in China, the people don't cover their mouths/noses for coughs and sneezes. They must have never learned the rhyme "Cover your mouth for coughs or sneezes..." or maybe it doesn't rhyme in Mandarin. They also think it is completely socially acceptable to spit anywhere, anytime. I was proud to show my American by side stepping the spit on the sidewalk.

The American standard for a restroom will be forever changed after visiting China. It started with getting the terminology correct. It is a toilet, not a restroom or a bathroom. You are going there for a toilet, not a rest, or a bath. Then there was the slight surprise (we Americans are very spoiled) when my SIL handed me Kleenex. My brother informed me that many (most) toilets in China are the BYOAW variety. (Bring Your Own Ass Wipe) What they didn't tell me was that I was about to encounter my very first "Shanghai Sh$tter". Not only is toilet paper apparently a luxury, so is sitting, or at least a slight hover. You got a pretty good squat exercise when using the public restroom. The toilet paper (Kleenex) is not flushed, but placed in a waste basket (unlike trash elsewhere, as I will explain in a minute). I would not recommend wearing flip flops in Chinese public restrooms. Just saying.

My standard for a restroom used to be clean. Things like doors, water, toilet paper, soap, and paper towels, are so commonplace in America, that we take them for granted. My new standard is "please let there be toilet paper". I tried hard to camouflage my American each time I encountered a toilet. I drank lots of (bottled) water in China. My American showed often.

My favorite restaurant in Beijing was not decided because the food was delicious. In fact, upon declaring the restaurant as my favorite, we hadn't eaten a bite yet. No, it was my favorite because they had the most beautiful trifecta...toilet paper, soap and paper towel! I actually sung out the tune you might hear as the clouds part to make way for the sun..."Aawwwhhh". I can't even recall if the place was clean...

At one restaurant we went, my SIL and I both went to the toilet at the same time, like women do, only at this place, the toilets were unisex, one toilet behind each door. So, my SIL went one way, I went the other. She got a normal toilet, I got the low rise type.

The worst toilet experience was at the Forbidden City. Air freshener must be on the Forbidden list. You are surrounded by beautiful temples and the bathrooms are yucky. By Chinese standards. Not only were they a BYOAW, they were PYNOV also. (Plug Your Nose or Vomit). The odor started upon approaching the entrance to the toilets. I took my sunglasses off and put them in my mouth for safe keeping. I didn't want them falling off my face or head while doing my squat exercises. I took a deep breath and headed in. As I was doing what you do in the toilet area, I felt the urge to breathe, however, I knew I could not breathe through my nose, so I took a breath through my mouth...which made my glasses fall...to the floor...in the worst smelling toilet I had yet encountered...unclean by even Chinese standards. There was no soap. After a quick wave of complete disgust, I pulled out the Wet Wipes I had packed, just in case. The package claims to kill 99% of all germs. Hopefully they tested in China. (Where they were probably manufactured.)

My American showed the most because I used a trash can. Or when I tried to clear my space after eating in a fast food restaurant (KFC is big in China...I assume the 'c' is not for cat). It is strange how much trash is on the ground in China, even in the temples, or restaurant floors. I kept thinking that I just can't unlearn some things...I mean, you can take the girl out of the U.S., but you can't take the U.S. out of the girl.

I have taken many things for granted being an American. Things like toilet paper. (Not to mention democracy) Although to the Chinese citizens we Americans probably look flawed because we wait our turn, need toilet paper, say "Bless you" and use trash cans. I LOVED my trip to China, I really did. I however wouldn't trade being an American...for...well...for all the tea in China.

Diary of a Road Trip

I have to take a momentarily break from my China blogging to tell you about my latest adventure. I came home from China on Monday. Tuesday I had tickets to a play downtown, Wednesday we had new carpet installed in all four bedrooms. Thursday was spent recovering from the new carpet installation. Friday was spent doing housework. Early Saturday morning, still fighting jet lag, I started the (normally) ten hour drive to my parents house. It is the stopping point on the way to my son's college.

I have not been thinking about taking my son back to college. I like him home. He worked 40+ hours each week during the summer. He spent a great deal of time fishing and another enormous chunk of time in his room away from his family, but still, he was home and at least ate dinner with us. I like him home. This week really snuck up on me and perhaps thinking about his return to college is what made my jet lag hang on and made me feel horrible. Perhaps I had separation anxiety stress, not jet lag. I like my son home.

Anyway, we loaded up his new van (a hand me down from my grandma) that has had a BUNCH of work on it. (My grandma only drove about 500 miles in the last year. We drove it 5 hours the day we brought it home.) Now we expected (and hoped and prayed) it would make the journey ahead of us. I also loaded up my car with his sisters and brother and we headed out.

We encountered car trouble four hours into the trip. MY CAR! A piece on the bottom of the car (parallel to the hood, with the engine in between) broke loose and was dragging on the highway. The noise was horrible. I pulled to the shoulder and my son followed me. He was incredible. He climbed under the car and investigated. We decided to try and patch up the problem with zip ties and duct tape (in my son's car) until lunch. We stopped earlier than planned for lunch as the patch job didn't hold. My son stopped at the dollar store and bought some bungee cords and crawled onto the ground in Wendy's parking lot, temporarily fixing the car. It held until we arrived to my parents house. It took just short of 12 hours.

We spent the next day relaxing at my parents house, and my dad inspected my car and fixed it better than the bungee cord patch as he had tools and ramps.

Monday morning we all woke early again to make the what I thought was a four hour journey to my son's college. My GPS kept freaking out, losing the satellite. My son, who is new to using a GPS had to be the leader of our caravan. His route took us a very different way than we have previously driven. It took five hours.

We had a quick lunch and then dropped my son off at his dorm. He did not want us to help him unload his car. So, we headed back to my parents. My daughter looked up driving directions on her phone. Thank goodness for technology.

About an hour into the drive, there was a dead cat on the road. I tried to have my tires straddle the dead cat, but nope, I hit it square on. YIKES! My five year old asked what happened and I carefully explained that I had run over a dead cat. He said "I hope it was an ugly cat." Apparently, ugly cats are OK to run over. My five year old also informed us that Shell gas stations sell clams. (Per the signage).

I had purchased a DVD player for the car ride to keep my little guy entertained. Unfortunately, along with the GPS losing satellites, the plug stopped working, so I was really without a GPS and now without entertainment for the little guy. It was a LONG ride back to my parents.

My dad checked out the plug when we arrived back to his house. I just blew the fuse. So, for the record, my car, two breakdowns (and it's the dependable car) and son's car (the iffy ride) no troubles.

Tuesday morning, we woke early again and started towards home. We planned to stop to eat at Noodles (a rare treat as we don't have one near us) and at an outlet store along the way as my husband is out of town and the dog was at the kennel. We thought it would be about a 12 hour journey.

The GPS was still acting up. My daughter rocked at reading an old fashioned map. Two thumbs up for her public school education! When the GPS did work, I liked to play this game with it...I see what the estimated time of arrival is, and I try to take minutes off it. It's a game of great fun. I was totally rocking at the game. I had taken off a whopping 11 minutes of the original ETA, even after a stop at a rest area, when we hit construction. We hit construction two times before we were at the halfway point of the trip, before we stopped at Noodles. ugh.

We finally made it to Noodles. We ordered and then waited, and waited for our food. When I saw three other orders served, we asked if they had forgotten us. Yep, they had. Not a fun time.

We got back in the car and headed to the outlet store. Unfortunately, there was a fatal accident on the highway. The highway closed. It took 45 minutes to drive 3 miles. By the time we reached the store, we were all a bit snippy and not really in the mood. We hit up the McDonald's drive thru and ate dinner in the car.

I stopped for gas two hours from home...had driven 491.9 miles on one tank! My girls were getting bored in the car and started making life lessons for each other. It was hilarious and informative. My fourteen year old didn't think so. She thought we were pointing out all her shortcomings. Instead, we were just trying to give some helpful life lessons.

The road trip was more than I bargained for, but so are most days. That's what keeps life interesting. I did prove to be a champion KEMPS player (card game daughter taught me) and a winner at the slug bug calling game. My kids were delighted to have 78 truckers honk at the them (note to self, pack ear plugs for the cheering that erupts after the horn blasts). I laughed at the road sign that read "No Trucks on Shoulder." I wonder how many Chinese tourists take photos of that sign. It would translate much differently than the way we read it. But, the bottom line is that my son made it safely to school and we made it safely home. The craziness that happened in between is the stuff that makes good stories. The trip home took 14 hours.


Younger daughter's life lessons for older daughter:

-Try being nicer.
-Smile
-Delete my friends from your facebook
-Be nice to me in high school.


Older daughter's life lessons for younger daughter:

-Boys are dumb
-Don't be in a rush to grow up
-You should wear the makeup, don't let the makeup wear you
-Don't show the good China (A.K.A. if you wouldn't show your grandpa, keep it covered)
-Real men like smart girls
-Talk to your momma


What would I add? Life is a journey, expect the unexpected and enjoy.

Get Your China On

"Get your China on" became my motto during my trip to Beijing. Mainly it referred to being in crowds, which essentially confirms I was in China. "Getting your China on" means to disregard all things you have previously been taught about personal space, courteousness, patience, waiting your turn, littering and following posted signs or rules/instructions.

As I wrote the rough draft for this blog, I was on the airplane from Beijing to Chicago. I was seated next to a young man and woman (who were Chinese). I did not battle over the arm rest. It is clear the arm rest belongs to him. Rather, I am battling for my own shoulder and upper arm. He is overflowing his space, into mine. He is not large, just being Chinese. Before this trip, I would have simply retreated from the space someone else was trying to occupy. Today though, I am pushing back, or simply allowing the contact.

Touching is a fact of getting around in China. We made up some dance moves for riding the subway with moves called "The Nemo"(touching the butt)and "The Moonlanding" (from the t.v. show "Modern Family"). It also includes, elbows out,stand your ground and "you didn't call 'place back'".

Getting on or off the subway involves much pushing. Certainly you do not ever wait your turn. Your turn is when you feel like moving, not when there is a space. There is never a space. At the subway station, there are arrows on the floor for how to get on and off. An arrow in the center pointing out of the subway car and two arrows on each side, pointing diagonally to get into the subway car. This motion happens all at once. To me it is like squeezing a zit, pressure from the sides and the stuff comes out the middle. Sometimes you ride the wave of motion into or out of the subway car. Sometimes you are like a salmon struggling upstream. And always remember this, the subway car is not full until the doors close. (As a contrast, at O'Hare airport, the same arrows are on the floor of the tram that moves you from one terminal to the next. However, there is also a sign saying "Let passengers out of tram before loading." And get this...people actually observe and follow the instruction.)

This I know for sure, the American Indian ads that ran when we were kids about littering, the one with the man who had tears streaming down his face, he probably rolls over in his grave at the sight of all the litter in China. People throw their trash anywhere, into animal exhibits, into streams, ponds, restaurant floors, temple grounds, anywhere. Everywhere.

We went to the Beijing Zoo. A few games we played there was "contact zoo" and "spot the bottlefish" (discarded bottles in the water). I wish I had worn my football shoulder pads to go to the zoo. You have to fight your way through the people to see anything. I proved a quick study at this game and won the round near the panda exhibit scoring some decent photos. Actually, my sister in law held off some people so I could get the photo. Then she said "I have held them off as long as possible." The next thing I know, I am riding the wave of people headed a different direction.

I was home for less than 24 hours, and went downtown to see a play with my daughter. It was VERY hard to restrain myself from pushing through the crowds and be American and polite. I can't imagine the adjustment my brother and sister in law will have. They are spending 18 months in China.

It's interesting, in China, you really don't need to use a thermometer. To gauge the weather, simply observe the men around you. The men lift or roll their shirts, exposing their bellies when it's hot. As best I could tell, it's around 80 degrees when belly buttons are showing. Ribs show for temps of 80-85. Nipples are exposed for temps ranging from 85-90. Over 90, shirts are off and over the shoulder. I found this system of checking the temperature rather accurate, although I couldn't figure out the sliding scale used when humidity was factored in. The question I really have is this , why wasn't Taylor Lautner visiting Beijing when I was?

My flight to Beijing from Chicago was mainly Chinese people. I was surprised to see how few obeyed the seatbelt on sign. From the moment the plane doors closed, several people messed with luggage in the overhead bins, wandered the aisles and visited the restroom. The flight attendants were near hoarse by the time we reached cruising altitude from constantly telling people to sit down.

It became quickly obvious when touring Beijing that posted signs are more of a suggestion rather than a rule to be followed. "No Climbing" meant more "Climb at your own risk". (Even I tested the boundaries of a 'No Climbing' sign...I mean, "when in Rome..." right?) Guard rails at the zoo were disregarded, kids and adults both pounded on the glass of animal exhibits. It was very surprising.

My favorite round of "Get Your China On" was crossing the street. There are no buttons to push for walk signals. There ARE signals, but they are highly ignored. Pedestrians in China do NOT have the right of way. If you do choose to cross the street when the "Walk" signal is illuminated, it means that most traffic has momentarily paused but that you should beware of the cars, bikes, mopeds and other vehicles heading straight for you. The imaginary bubble I usually keep around myself to distance me from vehicles is significantly smaller after visiting China. I have learned to play a mean game of chicken, and managed to keep my pants dry while doing so. My sister in law stopped a car once with an invisible force field shot out from her hand. It was amazing. I actually applauded her. A car came so close to my brother that his watch scratched the guys car.

Basically crossing the street in China was like playing Frogger. As soon as the back bumper passes you, take a step or two forward. Watch carefully. Hop forward, backward, left or right, then step quickly to the sidewalk. Always be ready to stop or adjust your direction. Always avoid going "splat".

In China I found that you either laugh at things, or you'll crack. "Contact Zoo" and subway games of Nemo are not for everyone, and definitely not for those without a sense of humor. Please don't try these games in the U.S.. You will be arrested for assault, or ticketed for endangerment.

I Went to China and Got 5 Inches

First of all, Mom, I know you are reading this and so I apologize for the implied adult content.

My older younger brother (M) and his wife (T) invited me to visit them for a week in Beijing China. They are in China for my brother's work and go to Beijing every six weeks or so for a retreat from their normal very Chinese life. Although clearly Beijing is still in China, we did see a fair number of non Chinese people and ate a fair amount of American food. Although, because Beijing is still clearly in China, I saw many things that are very Chinese. It was a trip of a lifetime, a huge adventure and I loved every second of it.

While looking for souvenirs for my kids, I came across a "I (heart) Beijing" shirt similar to the popular "I heart NY" shirts. I considered buying one for my college age son, but the level of appropriateness concerned me. My son had asked me to get him a Cuban cigar at duty free as a souvenir, and after seeing the "I love BJ" (Beijing) shirt, I considered it...as long as I could find a "My name is Bill Clinton" name tag too.

There is some concern over me getting my photos developed. The concern is a potential headline "Pittsburgh mother of four arrested for child pornography." I just couldn't help myself. The kids in China don't wear diapers. They wear pants with no crotch seam. They look like chaps. I saw some babies in outfits that look like long bibs. They go around their neck and a band around each thigh, but the back is completely open. I learned two things about this diaperless thing. One, boys in China are not circumcised and two, baby butts are cute no matter what country you are in.

Oh yeah, my brother asked me to never thank him for the 5 inches he arranged for me. (But I was taught to thank people for nice gifts) So, thanks M for the five inches you arranged. Five inches has never before been quite as satisfying and appreciated. I wouldn't hesitate to upgrade to Economy Plus the next time I fly.