A Daring Adventure

You, Too, Can LIVE THE DREAM

Have you ever wanted to be a Special Agent with the State Department's talented and awesome Bureau of Diplomatic Security... just like my husband? Well, today is your deadline to apply, folks! Vacancy announcements come out only sporadically, so ya gotta jump on that sucka while the jumpin' is good! And then YOU, TOO can be just like James!


[Except, sorry, but... he's better. I mean, I know you're great and all, but - he wins. Except your consolation prize is that you don't have to be married to me. YOU'RE WELCOME.] 


And not only is the Vacancy Announcement open right now for the DS Agent spot, but also:


James' own job right here in Chengdu is on the DS NOW bid list right now! So those of you who are already hired - *you too* can be just like James!


Yessirre, folks - in a very interesting paralleled flashback to a few years ago when James snagged his position off of the NOW list, it has returned to the NOW list again. In the exact same way. Complete with also having a position in Shenyang on the bidlist, too - concurrently! Just like before!


Except now, James and I know enough about both places to help potential bidders figure out which city might be a better fit for them. Actually, I will sum the Chengdu vs. Shenyang city differences up by stealing a very apt comparison from a friend of ours who is currently posted in Shenyang:


"In deciding between Chengdu and Shenyang, you have a choice: ice or pandas."


So there you have it, potential bidders! Which one would you prefer?


(Incidentally, Chengdu is the one with pandas. Just in case you were wondering.) 


Interestingly enough, back a few years ago when James was trying to snag Chengdu off the NOW list, there were only two bids on it: his and another dude's. But this time? There's a 400% increase in bids!


(Translated mathematically, that means that right now there are 8 bids on Pandas. But a 400% increase is a big increase for just one bidding cycle! And just in case you were wondering, Ice has a bit less bids, but there is still an increase from the last cycle.) 


James has been contacted here and there by potential bidders, which is always interesting.


And can I just say something right here and now?


It has come to my attention that there is some kind of belief out there that Chengdu doesn't have any acceptable high schools. This idea must be from many, many years ago or something.  But I am here to tell you that Chengdu DOES have what I consider to be an excellent high school. So if you have high school aged children (or middle school aged children!), please feel more than free to bid here. Ice, however, does not have such a thing, from what I understand. BID ACCORDINGLY. 


If you get posted to China, you will be well rewarded, my friends. For BEHOLD, where else can you get this kind of candy (don't forget how IT'S CANDY):





A Cola Sandwich Salad Set (of candy)? That's FAT FREE?

NOWHERE, THAT'S WHERE.  And don't tell me you can live without this unique candy that (please God?) can only be found right here in China.  You're lying.


Yes, my friends... between applying for DS or bidding for Pandas (or Ice, if that's your thing), you, too can live The Sailing Life (except please ignore the Eiffel Tower, because you ain't gonna end up in Paris, THAT'S WHY):





Very wonderfully and more pleasantly full of dreams and full hopes! 


DIVE. ON. IN!


[UPDATE: My editor has informed me that going from two bids to eight is actually a 300% increase rather than a 400% increase. WHATEVER. So I suck at math. At least I'm not still homeschooling my kids. YOU'RE WELCOME. And also: I HAVE AN EDITOR! SQUEE!!]

[UPDATE NUMBER TWO: A State friend of mine who is posted in Shenyang just told me they "love it" in Shenyang, that they "love the adventure" of being in Shenyang, and that "Ice is nice!"  So there, now: BALANCE!]

A Biology Lesson or Two

So... my semester is almost 3/4 over, and recently I've been studying my little heart out.


What am I studying? Right now I'm on genetics. And you know what? 


GENETICS. HATES. MY. GUTS.


Know why?  


See this:





That is my (extremely handsome) husband. And my husband's gorgeous blue eyes, which I love.


I have brown eyes.  And did I mention that I'm part Indian?  Yeah.  BROWN EYES.  The sort of brown that is basically black.


So then when it's all baby-timez, something evil called "genetics" comes along and - POOF! - all of the sudden my husband's gorgeous blue eyes are erased from our family's gene pool because my brown eyes beat the crap out of them and left them for dead somewhere along the baby-forming way.  DAMMIT.


And THEN, to add insult to injury, "genetics" comes along and says that the only hope I have in the world of having blue-eyed grandbabies is like a one in a gazillion recessive chance and that's only if my sons marry blue-eyed girls or whatever, and even THEN "genetics" will probably make sure that the brown eyes I gave my boys beat the crap out of my daughters'-in-law blue eyes. 


Times infinity.


So, yeah, genetics can just bite me get lost.


Speaking of James, I'm thinking that I have to buy him this outfit:





Know why? Because the snazzy belt's belt buckle is the first initial of our last name AND the paint splashes on the pants are blue and yellow (blue matching his eyes, of course, see above) and OHMYGOSH YOU GUYS, THERE ARE EPIC SHOES TO MATCH.


Actually, there are TWO pairs of shoes that match! Y'all have to help me choose between Shoe Choice #1:

 

Which, HELLO, *also* has our last name's initial on it, so it totally matches the outfit's belt. In addition to that, the shoes are BMW brand (NOT, look closely!) and who wouldn't want those?


So you would think those shoes would be a shoo-in (ha!), but there's one other shoe choice that is potentially equally awesome.  Shoe Choice #2, my friends:

Oh my word, how could I not? With their snazzy yellow (to match the paint splotches in the pants, of course), my man would be one seriously happenin' dude! 


The decision is too hard for me. I Just. Can't. Choose.


Meanwhile!  


There's a little bit of warm going on outside, but it's still cold here and there, which means that I still have my photographic fill of darling Chinese babies, who are, as I've said, the cutest things on the face of the earth:





And as long as I'm asking y'all for your help with stuff... anyone seen where the Noug is at? I can't find it:






 Yep... I just can't seem to find where that Noug is at at all.


[Sorry- LAME, I know! I just... couldn't help myself.] 

In Which China Gives Me a Very China Kind of Birthday Gift

So, last week it was my birthday.  


And on my birthday there was a basketball game.


Not ANY basketball game, mind you - my CHILD'S basketball game. My child's LAST basketball game of the season. And the only one to take my child way, way out of town. On two buses, two trains and a taxi. And the only game James and I would have a chance to see. Because we had yet to be able to see him play basketball.  


WELL. Being Fabulous Parents (of course!), we went to the out-of-town, last-chance-to-see-Matthew-play-basketball basketball game.  On my birthday.


So James took the day off of work.  And we woke up. At 5 am. And we took a cab. So we could stand outside in the freezing rain for half an hour. Waiting for the bus. To take us to the train station staion.  Which it did.


The train station staion had a food market:




But we weren't hungry. Because it was so darned early. 


And then, after a while, it was time to get on the train. But it had been a few hours since we'd gotten out of bed and left our little apartment. And so everyone went to the bathroom before getting on the train.


Other than taking a picture of the first "squatty potty" that I encountered the first day I got to Chengdu, I hadn't come face to face with another one since, and we've been here in Chengdu almost six months.  I never EVER intended to actually be required to use one of them.  EVER.  


But when one leaves one's house at 5 am and doesn't get home until midnight, one must, at some point, use the restroom. So it was time for China to force me to, you know, GO.  For the first time... chinese-style.  The setting of which looks like this:





The general idea is that you first beg a female teacher on the trip with you for instructions on how to use the thing. (Remember this for later.)  


Then you: cover your nose with your clothing (preferably a turtle neck or scarf), pull your pants down, balance and squat over the hole (trying NOT TO TOUCH ANYTHING), GO, wipe with whatever you've brought with you to wipe with (um, NO, chinese squatties do NOT have toilet paper in them), throw what you used to wipe with in the trash can after you're done with it (see the trash can in the corner?), and then go on with your day. Hopefully without being emotionally traumatized/scarred for the rest of your life.


And no, many bathrooms (including this one) don't even have sinks (or soap or anything) for you to wash your hands.


It was GLORIOUS. And also it was MY BIRTHDAY. 


And as I rolled my pants legs up a bit, tucked as much of them as I could into my socks (to keep it all out of the way), and squatted (trying not to fall over and die or fall IN and die), I realized that China's birthday gift to me was teaching me how to GO without a western toilet.  How to GO chinese-style.  Well, and camping style.  Not that I want to go camping.  Ever.


GOSH, CHINA... YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE.


So then we traveled on the train. For two hours. And saw lots of China countryside.  And I tried to take pictures, even though the train was going as fast as 198km/hour at times, whatever the hell that is in normal American speeds.  So forgive me for the next few countryside pictures, which turned out really blurry, but which sorta give you an idea of what the China countryside near Chengdu looks like.


It looks like this:





And this:





And this:





And then we took a bus.  For a really long time.  To get to the school.  So that Matthew could play basketball for us.  And RULE THE BASKETBALL UNIVERSE SINGLEHANDEDLY:





And MAINTAIN THE BALL AS HIS PERSONAL PLAYTOY AT ALL TIMES BECAUSE HE IS THAT AWESOME:





(Etc. etc. insert obnoxious parental boasting here...)


Then it was time to get back on the bus.  To go back to the train station.  To go back to Chengdu. 


And THIS train station had, outside of its restrooms, a vendor trying to make money selling:




Tissue packs.  So you could take them in with you as your own personal tiny pieces of very thin toilet paper.


Then you faced the inevitable:




And when you were done, you added your newly-purchased-and-now-used-tissue to the heaping trash can, and then you wished that chinese bathrooms had soap and water and sinks, and then you squealed with joy when a teacher on the field trip with you offered you a wet wipe, and then you began writing this blog post in your brain.  


Or maybe that was me instead of you.  COULDA BEEN.


And then I tried to decide if I was supposed to follow the directions to this place:




Because if ANYONE qualified right then as feeling like they were "The Disability," it was me.  


And then I figured that I was probably instead "Consignation," whatever THAT is:




But instead of letting me follow along on other paths, James shuttled me along to where we were all supposed to go, and I went to neither the area for The Disability nor to the area for Consignation.  I went to the train.


And then we took the train for two hours.


And then we waited in the freezing cold rain.  And then we took a bus.  And then we got home about midnight.


But not before one teacher told another teacher that today was the very first time I had ever used a squatty potty.  And then THAT teacher just MIGHT have found me and (laughingly and with much hilarity) congratulated me on my fine accomplishment. 


Good news travels fast.


Thank GOD they didn't also know that it was my birthday. 

A Fabulous Reminder

I saw this picture the other day, and it really, really resounded with me:





The only reason why this picture could have touched me so much and stayed with me so long is because I must identify with the fish who cannot climb the tree.  


Who feels that it *ought* to be able to climb the tree. 


Who feels ashamed that it's not up there, right now, in that tree.  And that something must be wrong with it. Because somehow, it's gotten the message that HELLO, WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU UP IN THAT TREE YET, FISH?


I can't be the only one who identifies with this picture.  And just in case I'm not, I wanted to share it.  And also, I wanted to share this next quote from the website of the guy who created that picture:

"It's an analogy that says trying to do something that you are ill suited to should not be a cause for despair any more than the fish should despair that it can't climb trees, for it is a beautiful swimmer."


FOR IT IS A BEAUTIFUL SWIMMER.


Yes, I should not be ashamed and feel stupid because I cannot climb the tree.  I should be looking for my water.  So that I can swim in it beautifully.  
 
 

All The Stuffz You Done Missed

Elsewhere on the interwebz, people are being all-interesting-n-stoof and I just wanted you to know so you didn't miss it.  


For example, Diplopundit had a nice, long conversation with herself about State blogs and the murderers thereof.** (You know, when *I* talk to myself, I sound like a moron, but when *she* talks to herself, she's crazy brilliant.) 


[**Note to my Dad: You may see a quote or two that you recognize on Diplopundit's blog post.]



Also, did you catch Jill's latest FS BRU (Foreign Service Blog RoundUp)?  There are tons of happy Foreign Service folks represented there this week!  It's fun to see where everyone is and what they're doing.  :)


And what have you missed here?  With me and my family?  Well...


Let's see.  I didn't buy this lingerie:



 

But I did stand and stare at it.


Probably because it was, like, EYE LEVEL AND GLOWING AT ME.  All radiant-like and all bright and beaming-y.  That's not camera flash, my friends... that's some sort of mannequin that GLOWS. BRIGHTLY. FROM THE INSIDE.


It was actually night time and I had been briskly walking past that store, heading toward other things.  But then the GLOWING caught my eye (it was right in the store's front window) and I stopped and stared. I couldn't help it.  And Matthew, my 18-year-old son, was with me.  And then I realized he was standing there too, so I reached my hands over and covered his youthful, impressionable eyes to shield them from the glowing advertisement of pure sex** (something akin to the leg lamp in that awesome movie The Christmas Story).


[**Hello, creepy Google searchers!  WRONG BLOG!]


And I tried to figure out what the glowing lingerie was advertising.  If I bought that lingerie, was it promising me that when I put it on I would then GLOW WITH BEAMS OF BRIGHT INTENSITY, knocking James clear onto the floor several feet away just by my raw, glowing, incandescent power?  And would I want that?

(Probably not.  So we kept walking.)


You also missed my helping some of my native-Chinese-speaking girlfriends study for their college English exams.  Poor souls.


Can I just say that it is quite obvious to me that these English textbooks here in China aren't written by native English speakers?  I mean - I ask you, my friends - if YOU came across a (college!) textbook with the sorts of questions like this fill-in-the-blank:





"___________________ who had been prisoned for seven years."


what would YOU say or think?


I mean, it's really not helpful when my grammar-loving self starts going off about how THERE'S NO SUCH WORD AS "PRISONED" FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHO WRITES THESE THINGS, because if one starts arguing with the textbook writers then where do we go from there?


What else.


Oh, I also may have stood thoughfully in front of another store, gazing at Mickey in his Chinese finery:






And Minnie in *her* Chinese finery:





And I did my best to try to estimate, off the top of my head, the potential likelihood that the Disney Corporation got even one single iota of monetary compensation for not only those cheery representations of cartoon-y glee but also all of the others (backpacks, shirts) I see every day around here. 


(If it's anything like the Apple Store That Isn't A Real Apple Store, probably not too high.)


Whatever.  Disney ain't hurting for dough, right?