Scrambled Elements

After a few days of Birthday madness, I settle down before my laptop to share an update with you. I was rousted from my cozy bed by a coughing child. Thankful for the truckload of remedies we hauled from The Old Place, I gave the aforementioned child a cure-all and then could no longer sleep myself...

This update shall offer a scrambled sampling of items in the last few days/weeks.

1) Magpie's birthday was a hit. There were some tears borne from the ache of missing home, but generally, a happy time was experienced. There was a poor cake baked by the birthday girl and myself that was taken to school on Thursday. We laughed as the partakers raved and raved about the confection. Magpie and I determined that this adulation upon a cake we fully knew was terrible only bolstered our previous assertions that the local cakes here are truly bad. We celebrated the birthday girl's day by a trip to the local Karaoke spot. A massive complex (there are literally 15 such places within a 20 minute drive of our home) with individual rooms complete with lights, microphones, big screen tvs, etc. We sang our best renditions of the theme from Lion King, Mulan, Sound of Music and a few random 70's and 80's tunes...a good time, a very good time, was had by the birthday girl who even demonstrated her genetic propensity to display "jazz hands" during a climactic note or phrase of a song.

2) We hosted, the English-speaking staff that is, the 1st Annual Harvest Party at our school on Friday. We found, with a great deal of effort, some small pumpkins for the students to paint as they were too small to carve. We played games like pumpkin rolling, blindfolded drawing and forced the young to compete against one another eating powdered donuts (fashioned in my kitchen here the night prior) with their hands behind their backs as the donut was dangled from a string above their heads. It was hysterical. We had a crazy hat competition and we designed a Trick-or Treating course through the school. The students were, of course, wild about it. I found it terribly amusing that I had to take a translator with me to each staff member coerced into handing out the candy and give a mini-lesson on what Trick-or-Treating is and then to act it out with The Bug for them to get the concept. (Culture note: one of the things I have grown to LOVE about our host culture here is the absolute abandon they give themselves to when a concept or idea solicits their participation. Whether it is the Sports Day that Coach "H" ran a week ago or the Crazy Hat Day we had on Friday, everyone fully participates. This zest for collective experience is so refreshing after being raised in the West where many pride themselves, even as young children, with NOT participating in the theme/organized event, etc.)

3) The trouble continues with our helper Sally. Sadly after having the intense discussion with her and two of our trusted local friends here, she has continued to come around with unrealistic expectations. Wednesday brought her to our door, with her suitcase, expecting that she was going to move into our apartment. Thursday brought a knock at our door at 5:55 AM, astonished, I opened the door to a fully groomed and bright-eyed Sally who when asked "why are you here at 5:55 AM?" responded, "I've come to fix breakfast for the children! I wanted to see Magpie on her birthday!" She was confounded when I told her that she needed to contact me before she came to the apartment again, that there should be no more surprise visits and that she needed to get in contact with our local friends who could truly help her in this situation. Friday brought the bizarre development that during the day she brought her bags back to our building and "moved into" the first floor apartment. She unpacked her items in a place with no furniture. She hung her clothing out on the porch and apparently she decided that this was now the place where she wanted to live. Never mind that the apartment didn't even have a front door or that she spoke with no one to investigate whether or not the apartment was even available for rent. Lastly, after being removed by guards in our complex here she waited at our Living Quarters gate for us to arrive home from school. An awkward, discussion ensued where she asked for us to fund her living arrangements and to allow her access to the children. The company/school is now aware of it and they have made it clear that she is not to return. We are torn, though first concerned with the children's safety, of course; we also want to make sure that she gets help with our local, like-minded friends who can help her in a way that we as foreigners cannot.

4) Some have emailed and asked for a primer on the identities of our children's pseudonyms for this blog. We'll give that next. But also we want to remind you of a few things...

Please know that we LOVE to have your comments posted on this blog, it really encourages us! But please, do not use anything other than our pseudonyms or the "H Family." Also, don't refer specifically to your location or ours by name. If you have not seen your comment posted to the public blog, rest assured that we've read it, cherished it, but couldn't post it due to an identifying reference.

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Okay, back the kids' names: Magpie (9 yrs), The Bug (6 yrs), Potato (4 yrs, 1st adoption blssng), Brownie (4 yrs), Bub (2 yrs, 2nd adoption blssg.)

5) As the weather continues to chill down and we're daily wearing at least 2, usually 3 layers of clothing to school, we have grown to appreciate...yea, even love, steaming bottles of hot water. There is something to "drink hot water."

6) Bub has taken a big stride. In one week he went from pull-ups to totally potty trained. I've cajoled, encouraged even tried to bribe him for months. One week I told the Kindergarten to implement some of the "tools" I was using...and he came home , on Saturday, potty-trained. In a country where most of the children are fully potty trained by 15-18 months, they've got it going on! Of course, most of this is due to the fact that there remains a significant reluctance to diaper their babies. Most babies and toddlers on the street, no matter the weather, wear "split pants." They could be wearing 5 layers of clothing and be absolutely bundled from head to toe but they're still in split pants. These pants, worn without any undergarments and a split from their waistband in the front to their waistband in the back, allow local children to be held over grassy patches, sidewalk drains or any other place and when the parent whistles (think Pavlov's dogs) to relieve themselves. Our girls in particular have known about split pants for a couple of years since our first trip here in 2006, but they still get a chuckle when they see a darling babe up in arms, fully clothed save for a fully exposed fanny or all their "private" parts in full view.

7) Speaking of "private" matters....WARNING...some readers might find this topic unmentionable...maybe this is a "chicks only" element of the post today....
While shopping last week at our huge, Walmart-like retailer, I came across a massive display at the entryway to the store. The equivalent of a 12X12 booth, nearly floor to ceiling adorned with pink floral logos and 6-7 kimono-wearing attendants, accosting passers-by. Upon closer inspection I found them to be hawking maxi-pads (BTW, what do geishas have to do with maxi-pads?) While promotion of said products through the television is quite popular in the West, I cannot think of a time when I've seen a massive, attention-getting, "grab you to show you the samples and extol the virtues of our maxi-pads" at a main entrance to a store. What caught me with a note of sympathy was within the vast number of women hearing the pitch for the new maxi-pads were a few men, awkwardly viewing the product display compelled to remain by their women, like flys on fly paper...struggling to escape...maybe it was the lure of the geishas that brought them, like me, near?

8) Another refreshing culture note...

In the West I have been increasingly dissatisfied with the attitude many of my contemporaries have about children. While I believe that in my generation this attitude is somewhat on the decline and was more prevalent in my parent' s generation, the vibe surrounding parenting children (at least in white-middle class circles) is that children are a drag on the life you, as the parent, could be living. That having children and their demands somehow robs you of all the other great, fulfilling stuff you could be doing if you weren't having to tend to some one's boo-boos, feeding and clothing and generally parenting them. I think this attitude is so prevalent that it has contributed to the frequent use of programming and gift-giving as a means to raise children. Children, often from their earliest days are enrolled in "enrichment programs", engaged in extra-curricular classes, and as they mature they are given gifts that fill up their time. We have certainly used our share of these things in our family so I'm looking at my own early parenting experience as a model of this.

I hypothesize that while we want our kids to have everything and be the best that they can be, we also want to make sure that it doesn't totally destroy our chance to live our best life. The "best life" being an intangible existence somewhere away from where we find ourselves bogged down with laundry and sibling rivalry. Even though I don't agree with this premise of "the best life," I see that the selfish mindset of me, me, me at times drives my attitudes and decisions.

Here, in our host culture, while due to economic reasons real or imagined, most families have both parents working, the child of the family is the central focus. People here get married, often now with the Western ideal of "for love," but most we've come in contact with have the driving force of procreation behind them. As children are limited here for population concerns, the single child born to a couple quickly becomes their whole world. (Now, just like my mini-slice of Western culture above, this attitude can be taken too far as to end up to the detriment of the child) However, everyone in the family, including both sets of grandparents, sacrifice whatever is necessary for the good of the child. Children, quite literally are cherished here. The culture says that you are blessed if you have a child (imagine how blessed they think we are)! Nothing could be more important that to have a child and to raise that child up to be a success. While this starkly refutes the modern-Western-feminism mindset, which the author is not an adherent to yet is well aware how this mindset has shaped her, it is refreshing.

It is an interesting dichotomy because due to the pressures of family planning regulations and age-old cultural norms I am the parent of two precious children from this host county. I found, before I came here, while sitting in my judgemental "center of the universe" culture-seat back at The Old Place, that the mere fact that children were without families and needed International adoption was proof of a lack of appreciation for children and a dehumanization of life.

While there remain children who cannot stay with their birth parents here due to family size regulations or gender preferences in the countryside, the opposite of my predetermined judgement is true. This culture is crazy in love with their children. They consider them precious, and the family will collectively do all that they can to raise that child. I've yet to find a daycare...most grandparents, both male and female, spend their later years living with or very near their child and grandchild and serve as the primary caretaker during early childhood.

I am aware that for every child that has an adoptive family or waits in an orphanage today, there is likely a wounded heart that aches for the love she was unable to give her child, not the callous disregard that I hear so often from judgemental voices that once included my own.

This love of children meets us at every turn. Our children are warmly greeted everywhere they go and by people from every demographic. This is the same with every baby/child I see out and about. Where often in the West my children would politely speak to a man in an elevator or a clerk at a store and be summarily ignored, here every child is a light in the room where they are.

I find it a lovely attribute of this culture.

What else can I say...

Must run, must make pancakes for my brood now stumbling from their nests...

Homesickness is tough now, doors are opening and we're seeing some more elements of design for our time here and we are as always completely dependent on your "thoughts"...

Adieu..