How many times did my beloved mother say to me..."never say never?"
Given my somewhat delayed learning capabilities...it just didn't stick. Now, living Here, I'm daily chuckling at how such a silly practice of using that phrase, as though I ACTUALLY control anything in my life, was.
It would seem that the Big Guy Upstairs absolutely delights in affording me opportunities to do things that were on my "Well, I'll NEVER do that" list. For example:
1) I dropped my Music Major in college, because I was "NEVER going to be a music teacher." I did not want to be a Music teacher and therefore, as I reasoned my "control" over my destiny, I did NOT need the music major. To perform, no one cared if I had a degree. So last year, the first year of our little school Here, there was a shortage of teachers so I was asked to "Please take the responsibility of the TWO music classes per week." I did, and I'm ashamed to say, struggled through teaching those two hours each week with a particularly bad attitude because, of course, my plan included "never being an Music Teacher."
Then last week, during our prep meetings, the schedules were handed out for the next school year. It was explained that since I did "such good job" last year, that this year I was being scheduled to teach SIX music classes per week!
Apparently DAD is seeking ways to refine my stubbornness further. Perhaps this year, I should really address my attitude while teaching the classes that I was "never going to do."
2) This is a complicated example, because many of my readers who have lived only in the West will share my previously limited scope of what is "appropriate" regarding taking one's children to the bathroom. However, with the full knowledge that many of you will be shocked and horrified at my next example of "never say never"... I will press on...
Here, the practice is to allow small children many freedoms when it comes to their need to empty their bladders. Most babies still wear "split pants" (pants that are split from waistband to waistband to allow the babies "private parts" to be totally "public parts" thus permitting ease for stopping ANYWHERE to "make water.")
So, its most common to see mothers squat down over a sewer drain, at grassy patches where trees break up the sidewalks, or ANYWHERE really to hold their children in such a way that when the whistle in the child's ear (this is a conditioned response)...the child "potties" on the spot.
Having seen this many times over the years, we have laughed about it and scratched our heads at the significant cultural difference. Our oldest daughter, Butterfly, at age 9, while on a camping trip in the deep woods back There and unable to find a bathroom, said to our suggestion that she just go shield herself behind a tree and squat down..."NO! That is NOT NATURAL!"
At any rate, this week, while attempting to purchase school supplies for the kids. (Which was a real point of victory...we caught the right bus, remembered to take our own shopping bags and bottles of water into the 105 degree heat, while sweating from the 95% humidity we quickly selected the store with the best air-conditioning and the least crowd, chose the side of the street to walk from the bus stop to the store ... some 6 city blocks...based on which side had the most shade, and UNDERSTOOD 95% of what the shop clerk said to us in the local dialect!)
So, mid-way through the shopping trip our little man, Bub, says..."I need to go potty Momma!" One problem with our idyllic victory in the current cross-cultural scenario...Momma can't remember where a bathroom is. And, the case most likely is, that the nearest public restroom is a LONG WAY from where I am shopping with 4 other precious children.
What is a Momma to do?
After wandering through the massive bookstore with no success and the plaintive wails of my son growing ever more urgent...
I asked another shop clerk. I first told her that we needed a bathroom. She told me of the location, and as I had suspected, it was a goodly distance from the store. Then Bub tells her he has to go "niao niao"...local dialect for "pee pee." She smiles and tells us to follow her. A few rows over from the English section, next to the Chinese Medicine books...she points to a trash can.
What do I do? I'm in the MIDDLE of a bookstore...the size of Barnes and Noble...and I've been directed to allow my boy to "go" in a TRASHCAN.
My mind quickly processes the situation...is there any alternative?....after all I said I would "never to that."
...NEVER SAY NEVER...
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23 August 2009
16 August 2009
Summertime in Pictures...Week 1-3
Tomorrow we begin the prep days for the school year. Daddy and I will shuffle off to the mine at 8 am and the kids will float in and out finishing (I hope) the end of their "summer homework". Here, they give each student a MASSIVE amount of summer work so that they "don't lose ground" over the holiday. So in perfect H Family fashion...the girls will be doing it all in their final two weeks before school begins on September 1.
Posting pictures tonight from Week 1 of our furlough There. We were thrilled to stay in our hometown with some dear, dear friends.
Subsequent weeks will be posted in the coming days...hope you enjoy some of the smiles...
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Summertime in Pictures...Week 1, Pt 7
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14 August 2009
Here
Our summer furlough was truly a blessing beyond our wildest dreams. We experienced family time as we had never been afforded the opportunity to before. With many special exchanges that brought healing in relationships, some that had been broken for many years.
After arriving in the US on June 27th we began a whirlwind visit that left us exhausted but FILLED UP with love, encouragement and faith for our second year here.
We have pictures from our furlough that are in various storage locations (CD's/memory sticks,etc) I do hope to post a sampling of those over the coming days. Today you get two offerings: our family reunited (all present included our oldest son "The Rockstar" and his wife "The Princess" and of course our oldest daughter, who is college bound in 1 week, "Butterfly") in the Midwest and the kids throwing some peace signs your way (as every picture of our neighbors Here, includes.)
We savored every single moment of the visit with our people from our home fellowship, had a record-setting first experience with all our extended family on Momma's side of the family (7 days together in a lodge), drove across the country to ooh and aah at Yellowstone Park, Mount Rushmore, a massive (and free) outdoor music festival featuring a few of our favorite C bands, laughed for hours on our road trip, got lots of hugs and love from Daddy's side of the family with our 7 day visit to the midwest, then returned for our final ten days including stays with Grandma, a visit with Grandfather's gang from sunny Florida and shopping, visiting, speaking, and EATING our way around our old hometown.
OH MY!
We will post pictures, I promise.
We arrived Here, in our new hometown, just before midnight on Wednesday night. We were worn slick from the 24 hours of travel and the weighty feelings of missing our dear loved ones...but it was fascinating how my mind woke up to the sights and sounds around me as we squeezed ourselves back into the matchbox mini-van that had come to retrieve us from the airport.
The night air was thick and humid. It smelled of Here, a mingling of smells accentuated always with a hint of burning coal. It was 85 degrees at nearly midnight. Our local family here greeted us with warm hugs and much needed assistance with the 14 suitcases we brought back with us. The bags were stuffed with school supplies for our work here, various western foods for the dozens of meals we will serve in our home for guests and some clothing items that are required to cover some of us who have feet larger than a size 7 in woman's and clothing larger than a size 10 (which is a XXXL here!)
The windows were down as we rolled through our little city of 10 million people. Every now and again we'd come upon a brightly lit corner, lanterns hung on strings strung between poles that illuminated brightly the open air restaurants, with throngs of shirtless men sitting around tables eating steaming bowls of noodles and drinking cold beers.
Ladies walked arm in arm with their handbags and their lovely strappy, high-heeled sandals, giggling as they carried home some fresh vegetables from the markets still open at that hour. I was struck that women here feel free to walk the streets of the city at night with no fear of being harmed.
The sound of the engine of our mini-van was often punctuated with sharp screeching noises of the metal on metal breaks of massive trucks lumbering their way through the city streets. One piled high with chipped concrete nearly lost it's load on our hood as it's diesel engine chugged a memorizing rhythm.
We had to stop suddenly as one of the dozens of scooters raced in front of us. The small motor-bike made for 1, with 3 pressed together wheeling through the uneven pavement...no helmets to be seen...everywhere...three people to a scooter laughing and talking as they zipped through the steamy night.
Rows of darkened businesses, their shop owners asleep with their families inside...a block long tire shop silent and shadowy, no sign of life except for the clothes line hung out front between the city's trees planted along the sidewalk. Pants, shirts and underwear hanging limply...even a few pairs of a child's "split pants" hanging on the string to partially dry in the humid atmosphere.
Driving further revealed alleyways here and there...brightly illuminated by the shops clustered inside and still, at nearly 1 am, shoppers bustling about buying fruits and vegetables, cigarettes and such.
Taxis lined up in a queue 30 cars deep, drivers standing outside of their cars, reading the paper and smoking cigarettes waiting in the unmoving line to fill up their tanks with gasoline.
The occasional Mercedes darts in front of us, or turns without a signal...it's driver one of the growing groups of "Have's" against the backdrop of too many "Have nots."
Over the mighty river bridge to our side of town...winding through the lake the night air cools even more as our excitement builds to return to our eighth floor home. A blast of the driver's horn wakes up the guard as he hastily opens the gate and warmly waves us in.
Our bright white walls and cold tile floors were so welcome to our traveling eyes. Finally, we collapsed into our beds...with a moment left for this author to marvel at how in just one year...this city with it's formerly "foreign" sights, sounds and smells
...felt like coming home.
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13 August 2009
Back Home Again!
Greetings thrill-seekers and beloved Blog readers!
We have arrived back in our home, Here. We rolled in with many tears and the gnashing of teeth at about 1:30 AM local time. Hence, the Author is far too tired to astound you with the many insights that occurred to me during the 24 hour journey Here.
However, we found our two cats eager to see us. The humid night air enveloped us and made us feel welcome immediately.
More writing soon, I promise...and pictures from our 6 week furlough back There...within a day or so!
Must sleep...losing consciousness...
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We have arrived back in our home, Here. We rolled in with many tears and the gnashing of teeth at about 1:30 AM local time. Hence, the Author is far too tired to astound you with the many insights that occurred to me during the 24 hour journey Here.
However, we found our two cats eager to see us. The humid night air enveloped us and made us feel welcome immediately.
More writing soon, I promise...and pictures from our 6 week furlough back There...within a day or so!
Must sleep...losing consciousness...
Get your vacation photos on your phone! Click here.
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