A Daring Adventure

Oh, China. Don't Ever Stop Being So....So...YOU.

I love - LOVE - Chinglish.


Seriously.


I'm out shopping or I'm out doing whatever and I see things like

This was on the cover of a magazine. "Focus on the most beautiful career of human being." I have no idea what it is (an article? An advertisement?) or what it's trying to say to us readers. All I know is... I LOVE stuff like this! Oh, and this is my ugly thumb. My fingers look like sausages.

 
I love Chinglish because I love the English language and when I come across Chinglish it's incredibly amusing because it helps me understand just how badly I'm murdering their mother tongue when I try to speak to them in Chinese. 

A couple of weeks ago, James was in Shanghai for A Work Thing. It was the first time he has ever been to Shanghai and he found it fascinating. Evidently (I didn't get to go with him as my children and I ARE ALWAYS SICK) Shanghai is MUCH more western than Chengdu and even much different than Beijing. James really liked it. He took a couple pictures with the iTouch when he was there:

A street in a shopping district area in Shanghai. I have no idea where. I didn't get to go with him, WAH.

 
While he was in the Shanghai shopping district, he came across a tshirt for sale:

Yes, this is actually a tshirt for sale in Shanghai. No, James did NOT buy one.

In order to fully appreciate the bizarreness of this tshirt, you would have to be familiar with the former (now dead, but his pickled body is on display in Beijing!) Chinese leader Mao Tse-Tung (or Mao Zedong, depending upon how you feel like spelling it) who, depending upon whom you ask, is either the most awesomest Chinese leader ever in the history of China (who single-handedly brought China into the modern era)... or the most horrifying dictator China has ever had (who was responsible for the deaths of millions of his own citizens). 


So, you know. Tshirt = WOW. 


And that's all I'm gonna say about that.


                                                ~   ~   ~


What else?


Oh, yes. Have we discussed sex and relationships in China?


So you're out walking in any city in mainland China, and you will see no, and I do mean ZERO, PDA (public displays of affection). It is seldom that couples even hold hands while walking down the street. In contrast to the U.S., you will see no hugging, no kissing, NO NOTHING, here in China, and the only reason why you will know that physical relationships go on behind closed doors is because, um, well, there are still people in China.


That and the condoms for sale everywhere.


Yes, in DIRECT contrast to the U.S., there is NO PDA, but there are condoms for sale everywhere. (Whereas in the U.S., there is PDA everywhere and condoms are hidden away, barely to be seen.)


But here, there are condom machines (they are very discreet, but they are still condom machines) on the sidewalks. There are condoms for sale right next to the cash registers in the local convenience stores. There are even, and I am not making this up, huge displays of condoms for sale as you are standing in the checkout lines at the grocery stores.


You know, in the U.S., how, when you're about to hit the register at a grocery store, as you're standing there, waiting, you're standing amongst sugary treats and People magazines? Well, at my local grocery store here in Chengdu, instead of candy or magazines at the register, instead there's a huge display of condoms for sale.


And they're, you know, pretty obviously condoms.

You don't have to speak (or read) ANY Chinese in order to know that this is a box of screw thread... I mean condoms.

 

[My very proper, very ladylike mother has just disowned me for posting a picture of screw thread condoms on my blog. I hope my father is still speaking to me?]


But, really, it is so interesting to me how different things are here. Condoms for sale everywhere here but no one publicly holds hands or hugs or kisses.... but in the U.S. people are slobbering all over each other making out all over the place in public but condoms aren't really for sale anywhere at all (comparatively).  

                                                 ~   ~   ~


And finally, I give you this:



 

Yes, I know that you have NO IDEA what this is a picture of.


That is because you do no live in my home.


Nor do you live with my 19-year-old son, Matthew.


THAT, my friends, is a picture of a toaster.


A TOASTER THAT IS BUSY REHEATING LEFTOVER PIZZA.


Because, evidently, pizza reheated in the microwave is "gross and smooshy," whereas pizza warmed up in the toaster (!!!!!!!!) is vastly superior in both taste and texture.  


It has been determined (not by me, of course, but by my son) that the pizza must be inserted crust-first into the toaster for maximum reheating.  So what you are seeing in the picture is the toaster with the triangular pizza ends sticking out of the top.


AND THIS IS MY LIFE. 
 

 

Today, I Love China (or: Sneakers, Anyone?)

James and I went out for lunch today.


Which everyone at the Consulate knows that we do every single day. We usually go to the same place - a local sort of dive that serves yummy Sichuanese food. In fact, our predilection for this place and our daily visits to it have given lots of folks here lots of ways to tease us.


It's sort of a community joke, actually, as in - Oh, there they go (meaning us) - They're obviously going to Their Dive for lunch! Or James and l will come back from lunch and everyone will be all How was The Dive today? Any different than yesterday? And then they will laugh and we will laugh for there is always great humor in the truth, as it is quite often stranger than fiction.


But today James and I shocked whoever might have cared to notice where we were headed for lunch, for we went to a different place. A Tex-Mex restaurant that is, quite frankly, a JOY to have as a chain in this area. The minute you walk in, you feel like you're in America in general and actually Texas in particular. They serve ice (if you ask for it). They serve tacos and enchiladas and chimichangas and ice cream sundaes. It is so miraculous and amazingly wonderful that I am nearly moved to tears just describing it. Yes, you will pay handsomely for your refried beans,** but the mere fact that they are there is a soothing balm to the wandering American soul. I mean, certainly Beijing has lots more restuarant choices than Chengdu does, but from what I understand, Wuhan and Shenyang have nothing as western as this chain. Nothing even close. So I'm grateful that we have something like this here.


[**Lunch for a family of four can run you the equivalent of roughly USD $60. Easily. At the bare minimum. If you're flying in from Shenyang or Wuhan in order to get your Mexican fix, add the cost of the plane tickets to the cost of the meal. Actually, if you're reading this from Shenyang, I'm glad that you're still alive! I hear it's something crazy like -30 degrees there or whatever, and I was worried you were frozen in a solid block of ice.] 


SO ANYWAY, James and I were there for lunch. Just the two of us. The restaurant was uncharacteristically empty for it being lunchtime and all, seeing as it's a rather popular place. But whatever.

James and I ate and chatted and enjoyed ourselves. We hadn't had to wrestle with or threaten the children out of bed for school a few hours earlier because THANK THE DEAR LORD, today is a Saturday. We got around to considering ordering dessert. What to get? It all sounded good. So, so, SO good.

The waitresses, for there are only waitresses there, were huddled in a four-person mass directly behind our table. I hadn't really been trying to listen to their conversation because, quite frankly, I was giving my brain a rest (it really is mentally taxing, after a while, translating). But it soon became obvious that they were, I don't know, kind of chanting, and it attracted my attention. James, also, noticed, but neither of us wanted to appear rude or like we were truly eavesdropping. But we were. For sure.

"Sneakers," the women chanted, taking turns one after another. "Sneakers, sneakers, sneakers."


It was obvious that one of the four was saying a particular word, and that the others were obediently following suit, repeating whatever the word was.

"Sneakers," they began again, and the chanting of sneakers continued all around.

I raised my eyebrows at James, who appeared to understand exactly what was going on with that little group of waitresses, even though I obviously did not. I silently queried him via my expression and quizzical brow. Sneakers? I asked him without speaking. Sneakers??

"Snickers," James whispered to me across the table. "They're trying to say 'Snickers.' A Snickers Sundae is one of the desserts on the menu. They're practicing trying to say the dessert menu in English." 


And then my ear began to register the random words they were all trying (so hard!) to say...Blueberry. Walnut. Chocolate. One girl would try to say the word and then they would all repeat it. Over and over again. A tentative, hesitant, uncertain group.

Their pronunciation was... close. Kind of. Okay, maybe not. I mean, it has to be hard, right? Saying random English words off the menu? I cannot even imagine how difficult that must be. God only knows I slay their mother tongue daily, leaving it a bloody mess at my feet, my 2/1+ in Mandarin from FSI notwithstanding, and barely any help at all.

I listened for a bit, but after a while I just couldn't stand being silent. They were trying so hard and they were so unsure and so halting and I, a native English speaker, a source of help and direction, was a mere few feet away. "Chocolate!" I tossed over my shoulder finally as they were struggling (so hard!) to pronounce it.

They immediately flocked to our table. All four of them, bearing the menu. One girl pointed to Chocolate Chip Coconut Walnut Pie available for purchase. Ugh, what a mouthful, I thought. I said each word, pausing as they tried to mimic me. After a few rounds of Chocolate. Chip. Coconut. Walnut. Pie, we moved on to the next dessert item on the menu: Lemon Squares. We did a few rounds of Lemon. Squares. and then moved on. At one point, we hit Tiramisu and I nearly died - Tiramisu is difficult to say even for an American! I paused after each syllable. Tear...uh...mih...sue. We practiced that one for a really long time.

I absolutely loved it, and they appeared very, very grateful. I think they would have kept asking me to go over menu items for them, but they reluctantly left when we got to the end of the dessert list. Many Chinese folks are seriously hungry to learn/practice speaking English, this language so different from theirs. Some of our word sounds in English they don't even have in Chinese - for example, thank becomes sank. As in: Sank you very much. It's got to be tough. And I am the LAST person to judge. My 2/1+ gets me basically nowhere here, let's just be honest. I probably mess up saying their version of thank (in Chinese) every single day.


I wish I could teach English here. I would have the best time! There are certainly so many people desperate to learn it! But I am not allowed to have a job outside of the Consulate (not that I have a job in it or anything, because I don't; there are far more EFMs here in Chengdu that want jobs than there are jobs for them all), because China and America have no bilateral work agreement, and I'm not the kind of girl to go off and flagrantly commit visa fraud, and/or passport fraud and/or break international law, etc.,*** especially hiding behind my Diplomatic status and Diplomatic passport and Diplomatic visa in order to do so, so it's not happening. I wish things were not the way they are, of course - I mean, at one point, I was even asked if I would be interested in teaching English at Sichuan University. But it's just... not... happening.


[***Call me crazy, but I have this THING for not breaking laws. That and my husband is a federal law enforcement officer, whose job back in the States is to investigate, arrest, help prosecute and help deport those committing these very offenses on American soil. His wife doing the same thing overseas? Under cover of her Dip status? Don't think so.]


But it was a blast to go down the dessert menu with those girls, who were concentrating SO hard and trying SO hard to say the words in English... all of us giggling and feeling a bit awkward, but having fun with it. It reminded me that I truly do love the Chinese people. 

                                                 ~   ~   ~

Tune in next time, when I go back to torturing my friend, Donna. I took a quick break, you see, to tell this lunch story, but very soon I will have cooked up another blog post for her that I'm sure she will just absolutely love. Or hate. Tough to tell. 

 

We're back. And it's DISGUSTING.

So, last you heard we were on our R&R in the U.S. (in Florida) and were about to head back to China for the last however many months of our posting in Chengdu.


Yeah.


So we flew from Florida to Dulles (Washington, DC) and then switched planes to go to Beijing, and then switched planes again to go on to Chengdu. And even right there in the Dulles airport we began the transition back to China as I whipped out the Mandarin to help Chinese folks try to figure out how/when they were supposed to line up to show their boarding passes to the airline staff to get on the plane. 


Lining up for stuff. It's not the Chinese way.


As the long flight from Dulles to Beijing was coming to a close, and as the plane was starting its descent into Beijing, the four of us looked out the plane's windows and sighed dejectedly. For even before getting even close to the ground, the air outside the plane was dark and visibly super polluted.


And then the plane began depressurizing or repressurizing or whatever a plane does when it begins to acclimate to the new city it's landing in (Beijing) and the SMELL of the polluted air hit us like a ton of bricks, burning our eyes and throats. 


As we got off the plane in Beijing, it was difficult to breathe. Even the Chinese folks getting off the plane with us were obviously grossed out, and one man even turned to us and said something in English about the nasty air. What we didn't know then was that we were landing in Beijing on a pollution day that might arguably have been the worst pollution day since the air quality began being measured in 2008. Which, trust me, does NOTHING for ye olde morale. Just saying.


I have never once (let that sink in, you guys: NEVER. ONCE.) posted pictures of China that I have taken without doctoring them first. I have always tried my best to edit out the pollution - to boost the colors - to make the pictures look far nicer than they are. But for the first time, I am going to post unedited pictures on my blog of China just so you get the full effect.


Also, bear in mind that last night in Beijing the air pollution was so high that it maxed out the measuring machines and might even have climbed into the 700+ range. Just so you can get a general feel for what that means, here's the rating system for mainland China:







See how that chart ends at the 300+ range? Just IMAGINE being in Beijing when the air measures over 700 and maybe even close to 800. THAT was our welcome back to China last night. 


We walked up to the counter where the Chinese authorities decide whether or not to let you in (you know - you show your passport and visa and stuff to them and they decide whether or not to stamp you in to the country, just like everywhere else when you're entering another country) and Matthew, who doesn't like being in China to begin with and didn't want to come back, walked up to the stampy lady and hung out his tongue from one side of his mouth, squooshed his eyes around in weird ways, and in general tried to not look like his passport picture.


He actually looked exactly like:





(But he was trying not to laugh.)

The Chinese stampy-passport lady DID laugh, because she knew exactly what he was doing (do people do that a lot??), and played along for a minute but then stamped him in anyway, much to his (laughing) dismay. And we all laughed, which would NEVER happen in the United States, because in the United States if you try to joke around with TSA or the Border Stampy people I think they take you away and have you killed. So score one for China. Because, believe it or not, the authorities and policies that you come into contact with while you're traveling in China are way, WAY less intrusive than those in the U.S. and actually have senses of humor. GO FIGURE.


Moving on...

So we sat for a few hours in the Beijing airport. Zachary's eyes grew bright red from the irritants and we all began coughing and having to clear our throats. Some of us may have even cried a bit. I took some pictures of the pollution:

Can you spot the airplane taxiing to the terminal next to ours? Look in the middle of the picture, next to where the building ends...

Night began to fall, and the pollution took on a brownish color...

It's our plane! Yay?

 
The pollution wasn't just outside the airport, it was INSIDE the airport, too:

Can you see how smoggy it is in the airport especially near the ceiling? Yep, that's pollution...

Then we got on the plane and flew to Chengdu. Which smelled just the same and looked just the same as Beijing. I took this picture in Chengdu at the airport last night as we were loading our luggage into the van to take us back to our apartment...

Ten points if you can spot the air traffic control tower. It's in the middle of the picture. I swear.

Hello, brown pollution that tastes like a mix between gasoline, coal, tar, metal, and other things I cannot even fathom. We missed you. OR NOT.


Tomorrow begins school for three of us (hint: everyone but James).  The boys unfortunately missed a whole week of school last week while we were still in the States, but it couldn't be helped. James wasn't allowed to leave for the U.S. until December 23rd, which would have only given him a week or two in the U.S. on our second R&R (if we had brought the boys back in time for when school started), and that would have been INSANE. We have only left post twice as a family in the year and a half or so that we've been here, and we're not going to go and cut our second time away from post together short just to avoid the kids missing some school. DON'T THINK SO. I know a lot of people get to travel and stuff when they serve overseas, but that hasn't happened for us. We've gone pretty much nowhere but back to the States and just on our R&Rs. Just goes to show that different folks have different experiences.

As for our experiences, here's a picture of Chengdu right now:

A girlfriend of mine took this picture this morning and I stole it from her. I hope she doesn't mind. But it's a picture of where James, the boys, and I live, basically. And I can post this because HELLO? OPSEC be damned, no one could figure out where we live by using this picture if there was a gun to their heads.

Tune in another day when I'm in a better mood. 

 

China Randomness. Motherhood. Teenage Boys. Food. Etc.

So the other day it was Mother's Day.


My absolute favoritest You Tube video IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE is Mother's Day themed. I think I embed it into my blog Every. Single. Year. That's because it's made of epic win.


And also: Because it is my life.


My ENTIRE life.


Since I have two older sons. And they basically relate to each other Just. Like. This:





And can I just say?


You people with daughters?


Cute, adorable, dainty little daughters?


Meal times look like this:





Those of us with teenage sons?


Meal times look more like this:





The only thing that keeps mealtimes from looking *exactly* like that is if the teenage guy in question is trying to eat while also doing something else at the same time.


(For example, if he's trying to eat while also playing electronic games on something hand held.)

At which point, meal times could also look like this:





Table manners and hygiene.


Boys care about neither.


I have no idea how in the world I will marry either of mine off someday.


                                                  ~   ~   ~


In other newz, the last time I blogged, I talked about how James and Zachary traveled around China a bit and how they saw that schooling in China can be muuuuuch different than schooling in America. (To be continued, by the way.)


Well, after reading that, a State pal of mine here in China sent me a link to a really, REALLY whacked news story that really brings home just how *totally different* things can be here in China for high schoolers!


Basically, in China, any high school student wanting to go to college must take this HUGE test that is so huge it makes the SAT or ACT look like kindergarten. It's *so huge* that the outcome of that single test literally governs the direction of the rest of their lives. (The test has been called "the life-and-death turning point" for Chinese high school students.)


Their whole lives, all the opportunities they may or may not ever be given... which colleges they can or can not attend (or if they can attend AT ALL)... which careers they may and may not pursue... are boiled down to the results of this one single test.


And while preparing for that incredibly important test, some Chinese high school students are hooked up to IV drips. IN THE CLASSROOM:

Talk about something that wouldn't happen in the U.S.  You can read all about it here.


Utter WOW...you know?

 

Welcome to China!

Recently, James had the pleasure of hanging out with a few State folks who came to China on a temporary basis to help out with stuff.


They'd never been to China before.


And now that James and I have been in China for something like almost eight months, it's interesting to see what folks that have newly-arrived notice that he and I don't even see anymore.


Before you move to China, people try to prepare you for some of the totally whacked things you will see when you get here. Except that I hate it when people say stuff in English that basically means nothing to me. For example, before we moved here we would read all manner of vague verbiage like "It is sometimes difficult for westerners to acclimate to some local Chinese practices." And I would think: What does that MEAN?!?! Use real English, please!


So I will. I will use real English for you, dear readers. Prepare yourselves.


Translate the above vague statement to: So, you will be walking down the sidewalk to go to lunch and then, on the sidewalk, there will be a human being that is pooping and you will be all HOLY CRAP, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!?! but you will keep walking while also trying not to step in phlegm/yellow puddles/poo, and you will remind yourself (for the zillionth time) that you will throw away all of the pairs of shoes that you've worn here in China at the end of your tour.


You see, babies/toddlers/young children here don't wear diapers.  They wear something called "split pants." (And this is a good time to tell you that I didn't take any of the pictures in this blog post - that I grabbed them all off the internet.)


Behold, split pants:




So, yes, you will be walking down the sidewalk/walking through the grocery store/walking through the museum/standing on the subway and then some kid will squat and out will come... the stuff you THINK comes out...and if you are with newly-arrived, visiting westerners who have never been to China before, you will very much have to tell them that yes, this happens. Constantly. 

Because that child? In this next picture? Is doing what you THINK it is doing:





Welcome to China.


If the child is old enough, it will squat on its own and do its thing, like the child in the picture above. If it isn't, the grandmother/mother will hold it in a certain way (yes, ANYWHERE), like this:




And when you walk by and you see a grownup/child combination in that sort of arrangement, you immediately look away unless you want to have to go home and bleach your eyes.


Sure, there are diapers here, but almost no parents use them. And no, it's not a money thing, at least for lots/many folks. At one point, James actually saw a Mercedes pull over on the side of the road (there's some serious money in China), the back door of the Mercedes open, two grownup arms extend out of the back seat holding a baby in the fashion like you see above, and a little penis flying about in the wind, doing its thing. 


Oh yeah, we're not in America anymore.


Chinese parents will walk down the street with their split-pantsed kid all holding them and playing with them and I see this sort of thing all the time:




And I think: isn't that sort of DANGEROUS?!?! For the parent, I mean?!? But, then again, I remember that it's really not my problem. 


I mean, it's my problem sometimes, of course. Because there we will be in McDonald's and I'll look over and I'll see some young child sitting in the chair all:




And I'm sorry - maybe this is totally Western Judgey McJudgerpants of me - but I can't help but think... ewwwwww.  


And then the same split-pantsed child runs into the little McDonald's playplace and slides down the plastic slide and I can't help but be grateful that my kids are basically grown and I don't have to forbid them from playing on the playplace equipment.


Or I'll be shopping somewhere and I'll look over at another shopping cart and I'll see:




And I'll inwardly roll my eyes and sigh. Not unlike what I do when I'm in the grocery store and there are little yellow puddles on the floor. 


NOTE TO VISITORS IN CHINA: Never step in the yellow puddles. It's not, like, canned pineapple juice that spilled or something. You will see them everywhere. After a while you will forget that they're there.


And yes, babies/toddlers/children will "go" ANYWHERE. Literally anywhere. 


Last time James was in the Chengdu airport flying out on a trip somewhere, he was standing in line at the ticket counter and - you guessed it - a child right next to him squatted and did its thing on the floor. 


OF THE AIRPORT.


So, yeah. I'll shut up now. I just wanted to prepare you, in case you ever came here. Because westerners may find it difficult to acclimate to some of the local practices.

The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves

Please forgive me for not posting for a while - I never meant to alarm anyone!  It's true that, when I'm not online, it's an indicator that things are going badly, and that holds true for right now, but I'm not Tiger Soup or Tiger Casserole or any other tasty Tiger snack.  I mean, seriously.  James and I have been through so much with this blog (y'all have no idea) that I wouldn't just go with silence.  That's not my style.


I'll try to catch y'all up with this blog post and then - hopefully very soon! - I intend to have all manner of pictures up from the Marine Ball that was held a few weeks ago.  My husband was totally handsome in his locally-tailored tux. Of course.


[But before I talk about us, I wanted to point out three things just in case you haven't seen them yet.  First of all, we have friends in Kinshasa, and we're thinking of them right now.  Also, now that we're overseas, TSB's excellent account of the British Embassy being overrun in Iran (there were family members involved!) just rips my heart out.  Also, did you know that Congress is considering extending the FS pay freeze by three more years to a total of five?  SUCKS.  Okay, back to navel gazing...]


So.  Do you want the good news first or the bad news first?  


Aw, heck - in real life I always want to hear the bad news first.  So let's get to it.



                                              THE BAD NEWS:


1.)  The baddest of the bad news is that we have never in our lives had so many health problems as we have since arriving in Chengdu.  We have all been so sick for so long with so many different ailments that I have long ago stopped Tweeting or Facebooking or blogging about it, because - HELLO?  REDUNDANT?  AND BORING AND WHINY?


But the truth of the matter is that at no time - I am not exaggerating - AT. NO. TIME. since we got here almost two and a half months ago have all four of us been well at the same time.  In fact, most often three of us have been sick at the same time.  On very few occasions have both boys been well enough to go to school both on the same day. There have been colds and flus and food/tummy issues and, quite frankly, it steals any joy we could otherwise have.  I did not come to post prepared for anything like this - I did not have enough medicine and I just honestly didn't see it coming.


(Okay, yes.  Here is where many of you could pointedly remind me that my dear friend Donna sacrificed her hearing to China and I sure as heck knew about all THAT, now didn't I?) 


We have since had lots of people tell us that, when getting to a new post, folks tend to be sick for a long time... but the sickness in our home is torturous and unrelenting.  For example, today is the third day in a row that my oldest son (Matthew) has been home from school, sick, this week.  Both he and Zachary were home from school last week, sick.  I was literally sick for six to seven weeks SOLID and have only recently (somewhat) recovered.  


And you know what else?  All our lives, James has been healthy as a horse.  Even if the rest of us succumb to a cold/flu, James would be above it.  But not here in Chengdu.  Here in Chengdu, even James gets very sick and has been sick often. 


I did not come to post with enough medicine.  Which just makes it worse. I totally didn't expect it to be this bad.  So, those of you heading to your first post?  Take lots of medicine, both over the counter AND prescription, just in case.  Prepare for bad flus, colds, secondary ear/bacterial infections from the same, tummy issues (ask for Cipro from your doctor), sprains/fractures (Zachary may or may not have a broken wrist right now - thank GOD for an American doctor the CLO helped me find locally!). Don't make the same mistake I did of being woefully unprepared and thinking it would work itself out.  You may be your family's only help and advocate. And don't put the stuff you may end up needing in your shipments, like I did.  FAIL. I should have known better.


2.)  You will read soon in the GOOD NEWS section that James and I (and, sorta kinda, one of our boys) all really like China and Chengdu.  I think the one boy who likes Chengdu went through a bit of culture shock in the beginning, but is now over it.  However, we have one son who is very unhappy. Unsurprisingly, this is also the son who tends to get sicker faster and tends to stay sicker longer and has missed more school due to sickness, so I'm assuming that has a lot to do with it.


I don't know if my unhappy son is mired down in culture shock or not, but that's as good a description for what's going on as any I can find.  He hates the food.  (HOW anyone can hate the food here, I cannot fathom, but actually both of my boys hate the food here.)  He hates the city (I don't know why?).  He hates the air.  He hates the way things smell here (I cannot smell that which he smells).  He's always sick (like the rest of us, unfortunately).  He literally dreams about American food, he misses it so badly.  My attempts at scrounging around for ways to cook American food at home may well be the only thing keeping him sane and rational at this point.  


But I've heard a saying that a parent can only be as happy as their most unhappy child, and since one of our children is vastly unhappy, that (together with the perpetual, unceasing sickness) is wearing us down, as well.


3.)  My grandmother, who was quite fine when we left the US to come to China a couple of months ago, died a few days ago.  Her funeral is tomorrow.  I will not be there for it.


She had a massive stroke.  Had I been in the US, I could have sat with my father and my uncle at her bedside as she lingered for a couple of weeks still on this earth and cognizant... but I was not in the US, so I was not there.  I should have been there.  I wanted to be there.  I was not there.


And I am unable to fly to the US to go to the funeral because my husband has important work commitments right now and so I must be here, at home.  But I have not seen my cousins or my other uncle in literally decades, and this is probably my last chance to see them (and I would love to also be able to see my other grandparents, who live in the area where the funeral will be held), and yes... I will admit to being angry.  And sad.  


And in the weeks that my grandmother battled between life and death, just an hour or two away from my hometown, I didn't trust myself (between sickness and culture shock child and everything else) to write either on Twitter or Facebook or emails, etc., because once things are put in writing, they cannot be retracted.  


Yes, I want to be at my grandmother's funeral tomorrow... but I am here. 


4.)  Speaking of my husband's work commitments... how to put this?   I mean, I have to include this somehow, but I don't know how to phrase it.  I suppose I could say... this is our first time overseas and we're both getting skooled in how these things work and what it's really like.


Busy.  Crazy busy?  Horrifyingly, crazy busy?


For example, right smack in the middle of my own seven weeks of awful sickness (and, trust me, the boys were sick, too), three Very Important People decided to visit our post - all at once. Donna, in her amazingly wonderful way, wrote about what it looks like when one VIP comes - imagine having three.  Since James isn't an FSO, his experience wasn't *exactly* like what she had written... but the time commitments looked the same for him (or worse).  For three weeks it's like he didn't even exist in our home. 


By the time the visit was over, he was so physically run down that he immediately got very sick.  This actually seems to be a FS theme - you have VIPs visit and once they leave everyone is so exhausted that their immune systems just give up.  


5.)  And speaking of the VIP visits... this #5 is a doozy for me because, quite frankly, I'm struggling very, very much with how I'm going to fit in with this Foreign Service thing long term (aka - what I want to be when I grow up).  Let me 'splain. 


I love my husband.   The Foreign Service owns him, body and soul, no doubt about it.  They have their Blackberry fastened to his waist and, even while he's sleeping, it's there beside the bed.  He works insanely long hours and is very, very good at what he does.  I'm proud of him.


But right now it's sort of like the State Department and I are eyeing each other across a crowded room.  I have my arms crossed and I'm sort of tapping my foot a little, impatiently, because I'm still at a loss as to how I can fit in with this life without going insane.  


The VIP visits really impacted me because, honestly, there wasn't a single FSO-y person whose job I wanted during that time.  Not the ones delicately hashing out who will sit/stand/drive where... not the ones drafting speeches to be given during awards ceremonies... not the ones worrying about who will do what during which functions...not the ones negotiating what touristy spots would be visited when...not the ones babysitting/tending to mountains of luggage...not the ones fetching bottled water...not the ones going to bed at 1 am and waking up at 3 am for press releases or DC phone calls (we're in a totally different time zone) or whatever.  I didn't envy a single FS person their jobs during that time, though many folks really do love these kinds of things. I'm wondering if that's significant.  Probably.


But, alas for me, my children are almost grown. I've given my whole life for the service of my family, and I've always told myself that I would find something for ME - a career I loved and excelled in - when the boys began needing me less.  And that time is now.  And the State Department looks at me and says to me that I have two choices:  I can wish upon a star/roll the dice and, if I'm successful, try to become an FSO and go tandem (with its own problems... don't get me started), or I can content myself with being a career EFM (oxymoron, anyone?) hoping, at each post, to find something to do that doesn't make me want to poke my eyes out with pencils.  And I'm finding both of these options less and less attractive each passing day.


So, you know... in addition to sick children/culture shock, unhappy son/illness and lingering death of grandmother/husband working a lot in a demanding job, I also have "wicked acute identity crisis" in the mix.  


But that's not all!  Because...


6.)  [Are we at 6?  I'm losing count...]  I always get very upset right about this time of year because, actually, I have given birth (yes, GIVEN BIRTH, we are NOT talking miscarriages here) to six sons and only two are living, and I just passed the anniversary of the death of three of the four of the sons who are not with me right now. 


I Am the Face.



One in four women has experienced a painful loss (miscarriage, infant loss, or stillbirth), but few talk about it.  I choose to talk about it.  Because I have two wonderful sons, but in amongst those two wonderful sons, James and I have suffered unfathomable, unspeakable heartbreak in the loss of four others.  I post that badge in honor of the newborn sons who are not with me, of mothers whose arms are empty, and for everyone whose heart has been broken along this road to motherhood.


On this year's anniversary of the death of three (of four) sons of mine, my grandmother had just died the day before, my father had been standing vigil beside her bed near my hometown, my sons, husband and I were sick here in China and somewhere there has to be a country music song for just this situation.   There just has to be.  If there isn't, I should write one.  Although I might have to set it in, like, Alabama or something, just to give it a more universal appeal.


7.)  In pursuit of a clearance for a possible EFM job here at post, I had to spend a lot of time recently compiling huge sums of information and then with the hideous, gawdawful data-entry software program named e-QUIP.  And, of course, e-QUIP wouldn't work on any of my computer devices at our home, so I had to fill out all zillion pages of the e-QUIP background investigation stuff at the Consulate at the one computer that EFMs are allowed to use.  


This took TWO. DAYS.  And, yes, I DID have at least one son home sick during that time, why do you ask?


e-QUIP, with your errors and more errors and OH LOOK, MORE ERRORS, and the fact that you wouldn't even allow me (I'm not making this up) to use my address here at post because you don't recognize it as being an actual address (error city!), you sent me sobbing to the Ladies' Room and, really, must you be so user-unfriendly?  Whomever created you should be shot.  Multiple times.  After being forced to use you to beg for a clearance.  


:sigh:


8.)  Thanksgiving.  Yes, on one hand, I'm very, very grateful (VERY VERY VERY) that the Consulate community had a wonderful potluck on Thanksgiving Day here for everyone to attend if they wanted (which we did).  This was so wonderful because we have yet to get our HHE and I couldn't have pulled off making a Thanksgiving meal right now.  


But it was also such... a sad day.  It was our first Thanksgiving overseas, one boy was home from school, sick (surprise!), it was a shock that the kids had school that day anyway (weird!  Their International school is American.) and, honestly, that day served as a reminder that we weren't at home in Florida eating with our parents.  None of my Dad's smoked turkey or my Mom's homemade... everything.  And it makes me dread Christmas like I can't even tell you. 


Yes, it's sad to admit, but I really do dread Christmas this year.  With our inability to ship a lot of items here (aka The Great Lithium Battery Mess) and with our being away from home... I dread Christmas.  I'm doing my best to decorate with what I can find here in China but...


OKAY!!  So we've made it through the BAD NEWS!  


On to the GOOD NEWS, right!?



                                            THE GOOD NEWS:


1.)  James and I *really* like China, and we super duper like Chengdu.  The food here is amazing - quite simply, I don't know how any other post in the world could have better food.  I'm totally not making that up.   We are insanely grateful to have gotten this post.  Neither James nor I went through any kind of culture shock after we got here.


2.)  We really like the Chinese/Chengdu people.  And how safe we feel here.  I can walk down random small streets and alleys by myself and feel totally safe.  Chinese folks I pass on the street or come in contact with are friendly.  I have literally not had one single Chinese/Chengdu person be rude to me. Chengdu has a different feel than Beijing or other places, and James and I like it. A lot.


3.)  The boys' school.  Oh, you guys, it's awesome.  We couldn't have ordered a better school out of a catalogue.  I'm totally serious.  What a blessing!  And I love that the boys are meeting all sorts of other students from other countries.  What an amazing opportunity.


4.)  99.9% of the folks at post are just a fantastic bunch of people.  We really REALLY lucked out!  I can see now that this makes a huge, HUGE difference.  With fantastic sponsors, good friends, etc., we are very well supported and I am incredibly grateful.


5.)  The housing.  We're very happy with what we were assigned.  It's perfectly adequate and suitable.  No bugs, no issues, no drama, no repair requests... it's serviceable.  Sure, people in other countries have housing that has, um, more space perhaps and, sure, the furniture isn't very... modern?... but neither do I have vermin problems or plumbing issues and, honestly, I am quite content.  I'm not sure where I'll put anything if our shipments ever arrive, but there are worse problems to have!


6.)  I am INSANELY thrilled that I was able to find a small smattering of Christmas-themed items here in Chengdu.  We were able to buy a fake tree and a few ornaments and a some strings of lights... and that's HUGE, you guys.  HUGE.  Especially since this will be our first Christmas away from family in the US, like I said, above.  So finding a few Christmas-themed things to buy was just a really big deal, and my Mom has been sending us other Christmas decorations in the mail, so our apartment is a bit Christmas-y now.


7.)  That I still have a chance to figure out who I want to be when I grow up. I have to figure this out soon, because some things I'm considering would take James back to DC for a long while, and we bid next summer (!!!), but at least right now I have options.  A small window of opportunity before I place my feet on a set path, forever.  Try my hand at the FSO/Tandem couple thing?  Come to terms with being a career EFM? Strike out on something else so not-State-y that it would be completely shocking?  Stay tuned.  


Don't know what I'm gonna do, but I know that I'll take y'all along for the ride!  That is, if anyone is still reading at this point. Not that I would blame you if you aren't. 


So there you have it.  The good, the bad, and the ugly.  Tune in next time with pictures!  I promise.

 

And Then We Got To Chengdu (Our First Overseas Post)

I have to ask all of my family and friends to please forgive me - we've had internet issues here and have spent days without internet.  When internet has popped up, I've used that time to post to Twitter or what have you, since that goes out to more people... but doing that means that I'm woefully behind on emails!


Okay, so, where were we?  Last you heard, our family had flown from the US to Beijing and we were on our way to Chengdu, our first overseas assignment.  


We left our day in Bejing behind on a chilly morning quite early.  And when I say "quite early," I do mean at something like 3 or 4 am.   We had wanted an early arrival time in Chengdu for a vast multitude of reasons, such as:


~ We wanted our sponsors to be able to have an easier time picking us up at the airport;

~ We knew we were getting to post on the Friday before a HUGE, week-long Chinese holiday and we knew we needed to hit the Consulate for our paperwork and stuff before they closed down for it;

~ We only had two flight choices - getting in around lunchtime or getting in near midnight. Not hard to choose which one was better!


So, early it was.  We arrived at the Beijing airport, got in the wrong line, had to switch lines later, stumbled around like the idiot white people who don't speak Chinese like we are, finally found the right place (thanks only to James) and passed this store along the way:





No, we didn't buy any Generics.


The 3 hour flight from Beijing to Chengdu was unremarkable.


We landed in the Chengdu airport.  It was a bit less modern than the Beijing airport but, then again, the Portland, Oregon airport is less modern than the Orlando, Florida airport because that's just life.  No big deal.  We walked to where our luggage was supposed to come out and I figured, since it was probably a hike to where we were going, it would be best if I used the restroom.


I walked into the Ladies' Room, opened the door to the stall, and said hello to this:



 

Okay, that's a lie.  I actually said, "Oh, CRAP!" which was both figurative and literal at the same time.  


Yes, my friends.  I was face-to-face with my first (and not last!) Squat Toilet.  


I'm not sure why I was caught so off guard by this.  It's not like I haven't been reading a thousand EFM blogs for the last, oh, three to four years or so.  EVERYONE writes about Squat Toilets because they're so, um, Other-Cultural.  But the bathrooms in the Beijing airport had all been western, and so it was just...a surprise to me.


Oh, Squat Toilet.  You and your little basket for tossing used toilet paper and, um, used LADY PAPER into, since none of those things are (supposed to be?) flushed here.  HELLO, THERE, YOU.  


So I stood in front of the Squat Toilet, unable to move or think.  Then I mentally slapped myself across the face and scolded myself with a whole host of: You are the wife of a US Diplomat! You need to GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!!!


But even after I recovered slightly, I still was unable to even imagine a scenario of my using that thing without it ending with James having to come into the Ladies' Room and pull me, probably bleeding profusely and with a concussion, out of the toilet's hole. Can you just see it in the local news?  "WIFE OF US DIPLOMAT BREAKS ALL ARMS AND LEGS IN THE AIRPORT BATHROOM STALL AND RETURNS TO THE US A QUADRIPLEGIC."  No, no... it would not do.  Out of my love for James, I stepped away from the stall (after taking a picture of it, of course, which made many local ladies look at me like I was INSANE.  Which I am.).  


After opening each and every door in the bathroom, I found one Western toilet.  Bountiful blessings.


Our sponsors had picked us up at the airport, which was true heaven, and we went on our way.  And speaking of sponsors, someday I'm TOTALLY going to write a blog post about how to be good sponsors, because ours were so awesome and I truly feel that's a large part of why James and I are so happy in Chengdu.  I really feel like good sponsors are the make-it-or-break-it at a new post.


Anyway!  We were here!!


And what was the first thing we did a day or so after our arrival?


Well, DUH, we TOTALLY went and said hello to Mao!


Yo, Mao!  We've been reading about you and learning about you and watching movies about you and all manner of stuff for, like, more than a year now, and all of a sudden HERE YOU ARE!  RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!





Mao totally waved at us. 


We did a whole lot of walking around the first few days after our arrival.  It was super duper cool that we arrived at the beginning of a long local holiday, because that allowed us to really get to look around and see what there was to see.


Chengdu is a really interesting place.  It's a city - no doubt about it - with city buildings and streets just like in the US, except all over on the streets you will see vendors and scooters and... I'll try to let pictures describe it.


For example, here we are on a downtown Chengdu street.  You can see modern city shops in the background.  But in front of the shops, there's a sugar cane vendor.  He peels the sugar cane to order and then cuts it and gives you a huge chunk of it to chew on.  See the pieces of the peeled sugar cane husk on the mat on the ground?





Here's some food I LOVE.  This next vendor uses that huge pot to roast sweet potatoes and corn in.  You buy a roasted sweet potato for about a US dollar and then you peel away the outside and eat the inside.  Since I'm a veggie sort of girl, I just about died of joy when I ate one of these yummy roasted sweet potatoes:





Talk about charming - I love watching vendors weigh their wares.  This lady is using a typical Chinese style scale to weigh what she's selling.  She'll weigh it with her little balance and then tell the customer the price.  






In addition to walking around, we went and ATE.  


And ATE and ATE and ATE.


Chengdu has some of the most amazing food I have ever eaten.  And another thing that's nice?  How the people look at us as they pass us on the street.


Now, James has been to countries where, when you pass people on the street, they look at you with looks that communicate that they are less than thrilled to see you.  Which is probably a nice way of putting it.  But here?  Here people look at us with curious glances and even, sometimes, bashful smiles.


I've had some younger folks (maybe... college aged?) even loudly say to me, in passing, "HELLO!"  (in English).  And now I know that this is because they're practicing their English greetings with me.  So I always heartily answer, "Hello! How are you!?" (in English).  And they smile and I smile and we all keep walking our separate ways.  But I've never once had someone look at me with anger or with a look that makes me feel like I am not welcome in their country.  And I would think that this is HUGE because if I felt like everyone I passed on the street hated me, I would be FAR less inclined to venture out of my home or would take FAR less joy in my outings. 


So that's how our first day or two here went!  Tune in next time... with tons more pictures!  Of course.

A Bazillion Pictures for You. And Also A Story or Two.

So, the last y'all heard, we had left all of our training behind in DC, had visited family, and were off to the Great Unknown (our new post, Chengdu, China).  After not having internet or phone for a while after we got here, I was able to steal a computer and internet from another source and let everyone know that we had gotten to Chengdu safely and that everything was A-Okay.


But now it's time for the US to Chengdu story!  And pictures!


After saying a tearful farewell to our families, we flew for what felt like a hundred zillion years to our first stop:  Hawaii.  


Yes, you read that right:  HAWAII.  We went to Hawaii because James had meetings there.  Which really didn't suck.  In fact, I have something to say really quickly:


                                              ~   ~   ~


Dear State Department,

Anytime y'all have any inkling whatsoever to send my husband to Hawaii for meetings, you can just feel MORE THAN FREE to HAVE AT IT.  I truly, seriously, wouldn't object in the slightest.  NO, REALLY.


Sincerely,
Me


                                              ~   ~   ~



So, yeah.  We hung out in Hawaii and got our this on: 

 

And then it was time to head to our next stop:  Beijing.  Because - you guessed it - my husband had meetings there, too.  


The evening we flew into Beijing, we were exhausted and overwhelmed.  We had been awake for upwards of 40+ hours between catching connections and what have you... not including losing 6 hours and CROSSING THE INTERNATIONAL DATE LINE... and, honestly, when the shuttle picked us (and our eighteen suitcases/bags) up at the Beijing airport, we were all already emotionally spent.


Our first glimpses of China - from behind the windows of the van taking us to our hotel - were obscured by twilight and haze and honking and exhaustion and lights and smells and DIFFERENT.  I looked at our two boys.  Matthew seemed grim, and Zachary had large, silent tears rolling down his face.  


I pressed my sons' hands with my own and willed myself to emotionally keep it together.


We got to the hotel and immediately needed our Chinese.  Not that we have all that much.  We got all of our bags out of the van and up to the room, which was quite a production, let me tell you.  We tried to peer out of the hotel room's windows, but couldn't see much.  The son of mine who hadn't cried in the van broke down and cried in the hotel, his arms flung about my neck.  Once we all fell into bed, James only had a couple of hours before he had to be at the Embassy.


The alarm went off what seemed like 15 seconds later.  We had already noted that the per diem for hotels goes a WHOLE HECKUVA LOT FARTHER in Beijing than in the US; our "hotel room" was actually a three-bedroom, three-bathroom gorgeous apartment complete with a balcony off the master bedroom. We tentatively opened the curtains to the balcony and were deligted to find a clear, crisp day with a pretty blue sky:





 
We practically RAN out onto the balcony to get a better look at China for the first time during daylight. We found BLUE SKY:



 

James was going to be gone the whole day being All Important And Stuff, so I faced a huge dilemma.  


We only were going to be in Beijing that one day.  What should the boys and I do while James was gone all day?  I didn't want to waste our one day in Bejing - possibly my sons' ONLY day in Beijing ever - by sitting in the "hotel room" like a total scardey-cat.  


On the other hand, it had been MONTHS since I'd been in Chinese at FSI, and to say I'd lost almost all of my language would be an understatement.  Furthermore, I didn't have a cell phone, James didn't have a cell phone, I didn't have any idea how on earth to contact anyone if I needed to (either inside OR outside of China), this was my first ever time in any sort of Asian country, and I had NO CLUE how to get or use taxis.  James expressed his hope that I could/would get out and sightsee, even though he unfortunately couldn't be there with us.  I debated within myself back and forth.  I was scared.


Finally I told myself something lame like YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE and I forced the boys to go out with me on an adventure.  


I went to the hotel's front desk, and tried to communicate to the folks there that we wanted to go see something.  We didn't care what- just SOMETHING.  A cab was ordered or called for or whatever (um, remember this part, because it's pertinent later) and we settled on a touristy plan for the afternoon.  The hotel staff basically suggested that we go to The Forbidden City first and then walk from there to see Beihai Park, which was supposed to be really pretty.  The hotel staff gave each of us a business card from the hotel, complete with its address and a little bitty map, and instructed me to show that to a cab driver when we were ready to come back.  It all sounded so easy!  (Remember that part.)  We set off.


The Forbidden City is pretty much right smack in downtown Beijing.  Which means that we drove right through downtown Beijing on the way there.  Which was cool, because Beijing has a whole ton of creative buildings the likes of which you would never see in the US.  For example:





Isn't that building crazy?!  


Beijing also exudes newness.  It's very cosmopolitan - even more so, I would say, than Chicago or New York:






Anyway, after a long cab ride, the cabbie dropped us off here:





Which was, as it turns out, the EXIT of The Forbidden City.  But I didn't know that when I was settling up my cab fare and climbing out of the cab.  


Settling up the cab fare at the end of the ride was easy;  he had used the meter (remember that) and so I paid him and he went on his way.


It was AFTER he went on his way that I learned, as I tried to enter the above building, that The Forbidden City has a definite ENTRANCE and a definite EXIT and the foot traffic only flows in one direction, and you are turned around by uniformed Chinese guys if you try to enter the Exit.  Which meant that we had to find the Entrance.  By ourselves.


HA HA HA!!!


If you are unfamiliar with The Forbidden City, it's basically about five hundred years old (no, really, as in it was there before Columbus) and it's on a huge swath of land that Chinese Emperors carved out for only themselves and their families.  It was here that they would live and play and entertain, etc., etc., etc.  In terms of land space, it's rather huge, and so walking AROUND the outside of The Forbidden City takes a realllllllllly long time.  


Ask me how I know this.


So.  


So we finally had walked all the way to the Entrance and.... we were already tired.  And we hadn't seen anything yet.  But we bought our tickets (yes, you have to buy tickets) and entered.


Lots of beauty:






The buildings are even prettier up close:





And what's crazy is that - all over Beijing (and Chengdu... and, I'm assuming, all other cities in China) - you can be on a random modern city street and tucked somewhere away, there's a piece of Antiquity close by.  


Just like in this picture:





Peeking over the tops of the Forbidden City buildings, you can see modernity in the background.  Totally fascinating.


We got our very first taste of Chinglish:






Wouldn't dream of it.  


You would have to be a pretty awful person to want to deface this:






There are dragon sculptures and depictions everywhere.  Even in Chengdu, you can see dragons all over the place - and even all around the outside of our Consulate here in Chengdu.  I hear that they're supposed to ward off evil?  I like them:





There are also lots of turtle sculptures everywhere, even here in Chengdu.  This is one ferocious turtle:





Further back in The Forbidden City you will see a lush area with lots of trees and gardens. This area, I think, makes for the best photographs, and these next two are the last from The Forbidden City and are also my two favorites:





The rock formations are just gorgeous.





We finished looking around The Forbidden City and we were now approaching the Exit we had first tried to use as an entrance.  We were tired, for we'd now walked the ENTIRE length of The Forbidden City twice (seeing it once), and as we walked out of the Exit we were both unsure of how to get to our next destination and also how to maneuver through the onslaught of vendors in our faces trying to get us to buy their stuff.


To say that the vendors (who wait at the Exit of The Forbidden City to sell things to tourists) are "aggressive" is probably being polite.  


They stand, holding stacks of glossy keepsake books or cooked food or necklaces and they walk right into your personal space, and get up in your face yelling at you to buy their things.  I addressed this by avoiding eye contact and mumbling "I'm sorry" and "Don't want" in Chinese while sort of waving my arms in a No, Thank You! fashion (which I hoped also served to keep them from getting any closer...FAIL), but after a while my younger son, Zachary (who is usually quiet and reserved), was TOTALLY fed up with the intrusiveness. He ended up yelling at one vendor, which alarmed me, and I had to remind him that We're sort of all alone in the middle of Beijing, kid, so let's not yell at the natives, okay?  After that, he didn't speak to them again.  Matthew, Zachary and I formed a ball of three bodies and forced our way through the gauntlet of sales, hoping we were headed in the right direction.


We were, and we finally reached Beihai Park.  Beihai Park is a former imperial garden, and it's quite gorgeous.





Since there were no lakes, ponds, or water features of any kind back in The Forbidden City, Beihai Park must have been where the Emperor-ish Peeps got their water sports on:





I wish I could say that the boys and I savored all the beauty, and we sincerely tried to, but we were still really jetlagged and we had already walked a LOT.  We ambled about Beihai Park and came across our second Chinglish sign of the afternoon, stuck in a cute little flower bed:





We took the pigtailed girl's ominous order seriously and did NOT muss said flower bed.  With that, we walked out of the park and began our search for a taxi to take us back to the hotel.  (Remember: this is the process which was supposed to be SO EASY!)


We walked.  A lot.  We had exited Beihai Park in sort of an out-of-the-way spot and not at the proper Exit, so we weren't swooped upon by people trying to sell us stuff, which was good.  I was proud of myself for having the afternoon go so splendidly - we had just TOURED BEIJING!  WITHOUT JAMES!  OR ANY HELP!  GO ME!! - and I patted myself on the back as we walked up a small street, keeping our eyes out for a taxi.


Finally, one came along, and I flagged it down.  It stopped and the driver launched off into... saying something.  I had no idea what, but I had my hotel's card!  With its directions and address and name!  The magic card which was supposed to make getting back perfectly easy!  The cab driver nodded that he knew the place and the boys and I climbed into the cab.


Once in, the cab driver kept talking as he pulled away from the curb.  I had no idea what he was saying, but I watched his hands intently, waiting for him to turn on the cab's meter, but he didn't.  "Mom?"  Matthew, who has also taken Chinese, asked tentatively from the backseat. "Did he just say that the cab's meter is... broken?"


The cab was fully in motion now and it was obvious that there was no meter running.  I tried to crank my speaking skills into full gear and engage the driver in what conversation I could.  My rusty Chinese wouldn't come, and FSI never taught us how to talk about hiring a cab or anything even remotely useful for real life scenarios like this (but I can talk about the US Presidential election and problems with US immigration in Chinese!) so this cab scene was just... horrific.  Matthew saved the day, for he interpreted that the guy was telling us that the meter was broken and was demanding THREE TIMES the cost that I had paid that morning in order to take us back to the hotel.  

THREE TIMES the cost I had just paid that morning?  Was he out of his mind?


I told him to stop the car, which he did.  I told him I wasn't paying that.  I now knew this was a haggling scenario, and I wasn't having it.  I told the boys to get out of the car, and we all got out.  The cab driver, thorougly disgusted (but not as disgusted as I was), peeled away from us and we were on our own again.

I patted myself (and Matthew) on the back AGAIN for realizing what had been going on.  We were being duped!  And ripped off!  And we realized it!  And got out of that situation!  Oh, how wonderfully fabulous.  All I needed was another cab whose meter wasn't "broken" and we would be on our way back to the hotel.  


We meandered around.


We passed shops:





And walked.  A LOT.  We passed construction:





During which the guys were busily carting bricks in wheelbarrows.


We finally flagged down another cab, but trouble awaited us yet again.


This cab driver didn't even give me the excuse that the meter was "broken," he just up and demanded SIX TIMES what I had paid that morning - and TWICE what the "broken meter" cabbie had demanded - in order to take us back to the hotel.  It was about now that I realized that not only were we obviously tourists, but when I handed my hotel's card to the cabbies (which was my only link to the hotel), I was basically putting a sign on my chest that read: "HI, WE'RE REALLY, REALLY RICH, TOTALLY CLUELESS, AND FULLY DEPENDENT UPON YOU TO GET US WHERE WE NEED TO GO!"  


I gave that cabbie a hearty NO in Chinese and walked away from him.  This really ticked him off.  I started walking down that street, for I was coming full circle back to The Forbidden City's Exit where cabbies congregate in order to find tourists in need of a lift.  He followed me in his cab, inching down the road and keeping pace with us as the boys and I walked.  


I came up to a line of cabbies, holding out my hotel's card and basically trying to figure out how much THEY would charge me to take me back to my hotel. They laughed hilariously when I asked to have the meter run.  I asked why none of them would run the meter.  They laughed again and told me that if you call on the phone for a cab, they have to run the meter, but if a cab randomly picks you up in the city, you haggle for the fare (and it's a LOT more than what the meter price would be).  The cabbie who had been following me showed up and joined the other cabbies facing me and... well... let's just end the story here.  I'll tell you that the boys and I ended up in a cab, that we paid an insane amount of money for the fare, and that I should have just stuck with Mr. Broken Meter who had picked me up in the first place.


A few minutes after the boys and I got back to the hotel, James showed up, too, fresh from his meetings at the Embassy.  He burst into the hotel room with worry and was beside himself with joy to find us all there, safe and sound.  Turns out, James also had quite a time getting a cab back to the hotel.  He ended up needing Embassy assistance and, in the process, heard some horror stories that led him to be very worried that the boys and I wouldn't be able to get back to the hotel.  He and other DS folk had worked out a plan to try to find the boys and me if need be.  Mercifully, we were already back before James got there and everything was okay.


Our cab experiences notwithstanding, we still really liked Beijing.


Tune in next time, when I share our first few days at our new post and also talk about how our cabbie experience in Beijing helped us be overwhelmed with joy about being posted right now in Chengdu!  (Hint:  THE CABBIES HERE ALL RUN THE METER! AUTOMATICALLY! ALL THE TIME!)


:)