Happy Birthday Magpie!

Today we celebrate and give thanks for a wonderful girl...Magpie!

Happy 9th Birthday Baby!

Last night we stayed up late trying to make some sort of a birthday cake to take to school today. It was a disaster and Magpie and I laughed so hard that we almost wet our pants. It was a memory that we will long cherish.

If you can, send her an email today or post a blog comment to wish her a Happy Birthday...she needs to feel lots of love today on a day when she's especially mindful of being far away from friends and loved ones at The Old Place.

At a loss for words...

Sorry for the delay in posting...I have intended to daily...but things have been a bit "off the rails" as they say...

This is a long post and not a light read...be warned.

I've entitled this post, "At a loss for words...", I can hear many of you snickering and thinking to yourself..."Right...like that woman is ever at a loss for words!"

But it's true.

It's happened twice in the past 5 days.

Last Friday we headed over to our new every-Friday hangout...we eat pizza at a local pizza joint and then go upstairs to a coffee house that is also an English conversation hub.

We've now determined that every Friday night at the coffee house, is "Kids night." So apparently the highest concentration of kids local and foreign are there on that evening.

Our kids were having a blast. They were busy working the room talking to kids and adults alike. Dad decided to take Bub home as it was past his bedtime (Bub's, that is) and I stayed with the gaggle of girls.

I settled down at a table and spoke first with a local man who just had returned from the US with his daughter after being a visiting scholar there for one year. He brought his 7 year old daughter to practice her English. She and The Bug got on well together.

Then a lady and her teenage (14) daughter came in. The were conspicuous, mainly due to the fact that they were in very trendy, funky clothes. The Mom had on purple glasses and some wild shoes with her super-modern, very expensive skirt and sweater. The daughter was also adorned in some really high-end fashion but she seemed a bit shy.

Within a few minutes the conversation immediately turned to the question "How many of these kids are yours?" I, as usual, inflicted a "dropped jaw in amazement" stare from her when I revealed that we had 7 children.

The daughter, I'll call her LuLu, looked over her glasses and said to me..."I'll tell you a secret. I'm Aspbergers."

I nodded, understanding a bit about Aspbergers and her mother said "You know Aspbergers? NO one here has ever heard of it."

The next ten minutes were full of LuLu and her Mother's painful retelling of life for them with the challenge of Aspbergers here. They told me how she'd been targeted by bullies at school. That she had to be taken out of school because of the discrimintion and finanly LuLu told me that her heart was "broken" because she longed for a friend.

Her mother began to well up with tears hearing her daughter's raw description of the pain she'd endured.

I shared with them about being the mother of a child with a special need (Bub's eye...it's funny, but I assume you would not be able to figure out what I could be referring to as a special need...I feel funny calling it that). The mother was sympathtic that we would have adopted a child that we didn't know was missing an eye. I quickly interrupted her and said "Oh, no...you don't understand, of course we knew he was missing an eye."

At that point she was at a loss for words. She said that she could not imagine anyone adopting a child with full knowledge of a special need. I laughed and told her that within my special needs adoption group we are certain that when a child has some sort of challenge that they also have a super power that will be revealed.

She was absolutely captivated with that mindset and enthusiastically talked about her daughter's giftedness with the piano and art.

She then wanted to speak about what our belief system was. She said that she knew Christians to be "honest and from a tradition of love...with kind hearts toward children." I was pleased to know that her limited interaction with Christians had been positive. I think that there may not be many, sadly, worldwide that would share that appraisal.

So there I was.

The moment arrived for me to share my heart with this woman who had already poured her heart out to me...and I was at a loss for words.

All of my words were locked up in complicated phrasing, church-ese dialect and western culture.

In our training we were warned to be prepared for just such opportunities as this. But to be prepared we needed to re-think the manner in which we would communicate the central truths of our lives to translate into the realm of relatability with our new relationships here.

But...I wasn't ready.

I was at a loss for words...

I offered up a quick plea for help so that I would give something of value. In spite of me, I believe something came out of my mouth that seemed to connect with my conversation pal.

I left stimulated by the honest, deep exchange and challenged to ready myself for the next opportunity.

Then Saturday we headed out with the young lady who has been helping translate for us, occaisionally babysitting for us and helping with the laundry as needed. We were going to show her how we shopped for Western-style food here...everything seemed delightful as we headed off in the rain.

During lunch our conversation turned to a discussion with the young lady, I'll call her Sally, of her family life. I asked her "how old are you?" She replied, "I don' t know." Assuming that I was encountering a translation error I restate the question, "How many years are you?" Sally replied "I know what you're asking, but, I don't know."

I said, thinking she was joking with me, "well what does your Mother say? She was there!"

She looked at me and said, "she says that she found me on a pile of trash."

She then deteriorated into a sobbing mess pouring forth many accusations about her parents (who she'd previously told me that she adored) including control, abuse and their hatred of her that she was born a daughter and not a son.

Within 45 minutes she began acting more strangely. Trying to change the subject after leaving the restaurant, I asked her what she thought we should get my colleague as a birthday gift. She gave me a vacant stare and then said..."I don't know. A wedding ring?"

I was, for the second time in as many days, at a loss for words.

Within 1 hour and 30 minutes she was scratching her face in a agitated fashion, she seemed unable to understand English anymore and she would periodically laugh hysterically with no catalyst for the laughter in sight.

I talked with Dad and said that I did not think I was over-dramatizing in the least to say that I thought our dear friend Sally had suffered some sort of psychotic break.

Within 2 hours I was forced to physically move her along by holding her hand and telling her what to do. She seemed totally disconnected and unable to make simple judgements like where to throw her dirty tissue away. She just threw it down on the floor. (This sort of behavior continued into the evening once she was back at our home. She opened some peanuts for the children then threw the shells on the middle of our living room floor. The next day, she finished drinking from a paper cup and she tossed in down on the floor in my colleague's office, without one word of explanation.)

Once we got home, she went into our bathroom, without a word and got into our shower. Then retired to one of our beds. After a rest she appeared in our living room and sat in front of the tv. One of the cats walked in front of her face, only cms away from her nose and it stood there. I watched in amazement from accross the room as she seemed not to see the cat for several minutes. Finally she brushed the cat away.

I was growing more and more concerned. She was in our home, I didn't know what had caused this state of confusion in her and all of the kids were carrying on as if nothing was amiss. She indicated that she did not, under any circumstances, want to go home.

I was constantly asking DAD for help, wisdom and peace in the midst of a scenario that was growing increasingly tense.

While Brownie was holding one of the cats, without warning, Sally reached over and pulled, quite agressively, the cat's tail. I said, "wait a minute, Sally, please don' t do that." She looked at me and then said "I think she likes it." The comment was accompanied by an erie, inappropriate smile. My discomfort increased.

To the rescue came Ms. Yang who quickly arrived and took an "Official school position" by telling Sally she could not stay in our home and that she was calling a private car to take her home.

Very reluctantly, Sally left.

I was extremely preoccupied all Sunday with wondering what would come of Sally on Monday when she was due to be at our home at 2 PM.

At 11 AM Monday she arrived at our school and went to see Ms Yang. She told Ms Yang that her parents had stolen the keys to our apartment and so she was unable to get in to work on the laundry.

Ms Yang told her that in fact Sally had left the keys behind on Saturday evening when she left for the private car.

Dad saw Sally in the hallway of the school when he delivered her keys to her. He inquired as to how she was doing and he said to me later..."the lights were on, but I'm not sure who's home."

When we arrived home from school we found Sally sitting on the couch. She had showered, I think multiple times, and had fixed two dozen eggs from our refridgerator for herself. Pieces of the eggs were strewn around our living room. The couches had been moved around into a strange configuration. She had left toilet paper, used toilet paper, all over our bathroom floor. Her socks were wadded up in the other bathroom. The kitchen was a disaster and the back door was open, no screened door closed and she was totally oblivious to any of it.

We had planned on Ms Yang as well as another brother from our building here to come over and "have a talk" with Sally. The children were finally shuttled off to our fellow teacher's place and Dad made dinner. While we waited to settle down for our dinner and talk I observed Sally dancing to some music, awkwardly, dramatically while even the children watched in facination.

I have a degree in psychology. I spent most of my time focusing on abnormal psychology. With every new behavior I was saying to myself "I know what this is, I've studied it." But I was still incredulous that we were witnessing this distressing scene.

Dad and I wanted to show compassion, to help in any way possible and at the same time we were conflicted with concern for the safety of the children. There had been a dozen other little items that had shown poor judgement and processing on her part...we didn't want any dangerous situations to develop.

We sat down with the local friends here and with Sally and we began to ask her how she was feeling. She reported that she was confused. She said that a few days before (Saturday) she began to get confused about time and direction.

We were so thankful that the topic was acknowledged by her immediately so that we didn't have to give our observations.

Then what followed was 1 hour of the most disturbing conversation. We would ask questions and she would answer with incomplete and disconnected responses. When we asked about her friends, if we could get in contact with them she replied, "I don't know where they are." When we asked what their names were she said, "I can't remember. I just remember the love. I like peace and a good earth." Then periodically she shouted about her parents, that she couldn't stand to look in their eyes, that they had no love in them. That her home with them was a cage and they had bars on her windows (a common thing here for safety reasons.)

She didn't remember some items that I asked her about. When I asked which friend of hers got married two weeks ago (she'd had a day away from our home so that she could be in the wedding and have her final dress fitting) she replied "I don't know. Who got married?" When I gave her more background based on the conversation we'd had two weeks ago she said "I think it's not good to try dresses on alone. People are the most important things."

The she told us about a memory she had with her parents (one of our local friends had asked her if she had any happy memories with her parents) she told a story about food and chopsticks and then laughed uproariously at what was supposed to be the punch line. The story was incoherent, none of us understood what was comical.

She told us that they were always forcing drugs into her...

...then a lightbulb went on in my mind.

I thought, "this is not new, she's been medicated and she's gone off of her meds."

We had to tell her that she couldn't stay in our home. It seemed to not register. Then she said she was going to a hotel to stay the night.

We helped her gather her things, discussed many more items that resulted in random responses from her and showed her out.

She said to me, "okay, see you later." Then as the elevator doors closed she made a double peace sign with her hands and stuck her tongue out at me shaking her head and rolling her eyes up in her head.

I felt so sad for her.

Today she returned to our LQ. She no longer had a key as we'd taken in from her last night. When I saw her, from a distance, she was walking down the middle of the road, weaving. When I called out to her she finally turned around and walked back to me. Her face looked drawn and distressed. Her eyes, so dark.

She told me that she'd gone home to see her parents and that she'd taken some medication. She was certainly more coherent, but still, not as we'd known her before.

I asked her, as I'd now formulated an hypothesis, "when you stayed over at our home on Thursday and Friday, you didn't take your medicine, did you?"

She said, "no."

I then told her that it was important for her take her medication every day. That she does well when she's on it and that she was confused because she'd stopped taking it. She nodded in apparent agreement.

Then she left.

We've organized our two local friends to do further follow-up with her. We have been told, and we know it to be true, that we cannot go deeper as we are "foreigners." But we will be, and we ask you earnestly to lift her up.

In fact, we ask you to lift both Sally, LuLu and her mother up. We will be in contact with all of them in the days to come and we hope to offer each of them a ministry of compassion and gentleness in this world that is so often harsh.

May our light so shine before men that they will see our good works and praise our Father above...

Kindness and Outrage

I want to preface this post with the disclaimer that we are blssd beyond measure.

We cannot believe the joy we have living day by day way outside of normal. We are thankful, deeply moved, by the love and support shown to us by the dear people with whom we live. Everyday we go to school, we spend time learning a new language, we learn about a new culture and we love the ones in front of us.

Our hearts ache for those we love back home, especially our eldest, his lovely wife (The Rockstar & Princess) and our precious daughter (Butterfly.) Even still, we see this opportunity as the greatest adventure of faith in our lives and we pray that it is a suitable offering. It is here, each day, that we are reminded to "Taste and see that the Lrd is good."

Each day is difficult. Often life here is uncomfortable, not physically, although the weather can be brutal...but the greatest struggle we face is with our identities. At the Old Place we were relatively capable, able to successfully manage our lives within the bounds of acceptable and everywhere we went we could negotiate our own way.

The culture of these beautiful people at The New Place is steeped in responsibility. When you are a foreigner here, everyone with whom you are in relationship takes personal responsibility to care for you and specifically to give you advice.

We know to expect this and always try to receive it in the love and honor with which the message is intended.

However, the message intended, the message sent and the message received are not always the same message. This is true when both parties communicating speak the same language. This is quadruply true when both parties are relying on limited phrases or an generally exhausted interpreter to always be the "middle man" in the flow of communication.

Magpie is on the mend. Today she returned to school and felt better after day 2 of her anti-biotic. We're thrilled to have "run into" a family who has lived here with their 4 children for the past 8 years. The mother of the brood is a family practice doc. They live about 15 minutes from us! After consulting with her the verdict is, walking pneumonia. We are so thankful for antibiotics.

The illnesses in the family have created a firestorm of compassion on the parts of our friends and colleagues here. Just yesterday when I returned to the school to teach my English class for 3rd period, two of my colleagues raced over to the Living Quarters to visit Magpie. Along the way they evidently stopped for 3 huge bags of fruit. Fresh apples and bananas spilling out of their bags adorned my coffee table when I returned just one hour later. Since this is the 3rd such "fruit gift" that we've received in the past 3 days Magpie noted: "Wow, the longer I'm sick, the more fresh fruit for the family!"

While at my home they tidied up the living room. (Oh the horrors!)

They straitened up the shoe area. (With loud exclamations in awe of the number of shoes in our home!)

In 30 minutes they made quite a dent.

Sadly I was unable to alert Magpie to the coming "Hurricane of Compassion." This meant she was ill prepared to receive them. Specifically, she was not wearing socks and she was in her nightgown instead of thermal underwear.

They were horrified to find her in such a state and admonished her to immediately get on socks, slippers and more clothes and to GET TO BED! They advised her to drink warm coke with ginger, to wrap herself in a few comforters and to sweat out the sickness.

Magpie, ever amiable, immediately went to bed, thankful that they were not able to stay and enforce the prescribed perspiration remedy.

It took several minutes when I arrived one hour later to get her to open the door. She feared their return and stayed in her bed to assure that they were gone! :)

As now I can see my mother's satisfied appearance reading this blog saying "How many times have I told you to keep socks on those children?"...I must add another fact to the story...

It was 82 degrees yesterday.

Today I was subjected to outrage.

I went to the school, it was rainy, but it was quite warm...surely upper sixties. Back at The Old Place, that's a regular heat wave!

I wore sandals to school. I believe that feet should be free to the very last moment they possibly can be...that they need air and sandals should be worn on every conceivable opportunity.

My co-workers do not share this opinion.

Seeing my bare feet wearing only sandal leather strapped over them sent them into an absolute tizzy.

"I'm afraid we must tell you that you will be sick here if you do not wear socks and shoes. It is dangerous as you will catch a cold because of your cold feet."

"This is probably why Magpie is so ill, she wore no socks with her shoes last week." (It was in the low 80's on the occasion referenced.)

I tried to explain that where we have lived for the past 12 years, today was very comfortable and that I was not cold in any way, especially not my feet. And that prior to my getting sick last week, I had worn shoes and socks for the 10 days prior...

...my explanation was not adequate...

...frowns with heads wagging in disapproval of my personal and parenting policies made me feel so foolish...

I wanted to say..."Hey, I've been a mom for quite awhile! None of my children have suffered ill health because of bad practices on my part! Back at The Old Place, no one would agree with the bare feet superstition just because it's "autumn," disregarding the warm temperature! I'm okay! Just because I can't negotiate my way out of any problem and most of the time I have no idea what is going on around me and just because I fell in a hole last week because I wasn't watching for an open manhole in the middle of the pedestrian walkway...I'm capable...I'm reasonably smart...and back home I'm considered a good communicator..."

Ah...culture stress...read about it...heard about it...was trained to have techniques to handle it...still getting the best of me...

Got to remember who I really am...

I'm His.

So whether or not I'm ever seen as a capable person or a good mother or possessing any wisdom whatsoever...He chose to place me here...and as I've been bought with a price...I'm here. He thinks I'm valuable, He calls me His own...

Oh that I might decrease and that He might increase...

Virusville

...that's where we live...our own special petri dish of viruses...all new to us...all eager to hitch a ride on one of the viable carriers in the H Fam.

All weekend...we stayed in.

The kids were quarantined to the house as many still had fevers, coughs, body aches and/or sore throats. Talk about your fun autumn weekend!

Dad and I darted out separately as fast as possible to bring in feed and supplies.

Worst note of all was that we had to miss our Sunday meeting! This was a great blow because the young were to sing a new song "If I were a butterfly" in front of the gathering. We got up, bathed and right about one hour before we were to depart...they began wilting before my eyes.

I was so discouraged...so frustrated...we look to this time each week to refill our tanks and to encourage us...the highlight of our week...missed.

It caused me to reflect on my attitude about Sunday meetings back at The Old Place. We hardly ever missed, always looked forward to meeting with our people and were generally unhappy if we missed.

But yesterday, we felt crushed....truly, crushed that we were going to miss! Our message to those of you who are surrounded by opportunities to meet with and enjoy brothers and sisters...appreciate it a little bit more this week...it is a blssng!

Today school was a particular delight for me...though Magpie went home after half the day feeling too ill to continue...in my reading class today...ALL OF THE STUDENTS READ! IN ENGLISH! Overcome with joy I hugged two of them for whom I knew it was the greatest accomplishment!

Dad is having a bit of a tougher go this week. I left him just now at the campus sorting out more details about this week's fire drill. With our school being brand new, everything it seems has to be re-invented! I think I saw his eyes bulging a bit with frustration...ah, life where you cannot understand what people are speaking about...it will wear you down!

I'm tempted to lament the fact that we missed the meeting yesterday once again in light of Dad's tough day...but in reality, we have all that we need for today. When these times arise where we're stressed, fatigued and generally displeased...we need to remember that the best defense is a good Thanksgiving session!

I came home the other night to find a long list of items that Dad had typed into a Word file...items for which he was giving thanks. This seems to be the lesson we're learning now. Often things aren't the way we wish they would be with health, relationships or obligations...too often we take the bait to focus on those items and to allow them to fill our radar screen with negative thinking. Yet, we are so blssd! We have been given the greatest gift, have received enduring promises and have access to eternal joy...

...really, in light of that...

how great it is to have breath in our lungs to enable us to give thanks!

Our View

The first shot...our "driveway" this is what we walk every morning to School. The school is across the street at outside the gate.
Above is a view of one of the buildings in our Living Quarters...it also houses the inescapable vortex we call the "Nurse's Station."

Above is the view off the West side of our building. It shows clearly that we're out in some "new territory"...within a few years all this land will be built with high rises. The land is owned by the corporation, with plans for expansion. Right now it houses lots of crickets and frogs that sing to us in the early morning and evening. It helps us feel like we're not total CITY folk...it gives us a reprieve from the reality that we live in a city of 10 million!

This picture is out our kitchen window. It shows the other side of the building, the East facing view. When we do dishes at night and look out here...the lights from the city streets are so bright! But still, it is so much more peaceful than a few miles in closer to the city's mass populations. Our windows usher in the smell of smoke most nights now...fires on construction sites. Not likely caused by the "without reason" fireworks displays that happen any time of the day or night. :)

This is the middle of the LQ complex. Eventually we think that there will be a playground here and some park benches and picnic tables. It's a new world to look down on lawn that we're not responsible for and may or may not walk on for months on end.

This is the back driveway. We usually walk out this driveway to the main road to catch the first of our many buses to "somewhere." In the distance, to the left is the corporations' main buildings. The property on the other side of the road, between the corporation and here is also company-owned land which will likely be developed in the coming years.

This is our washing machine. It is out on a small balcony. We can do approximately 1/4 the size of a load that we used to do in our washer at home. (Hope my bro & sis-in-law are enjoying those awesome washing/drying models) Above it you see the bottom of our water heater...you may guess from the size that we shower differently here. We turn on the water...get wet....turn off the water to soap up, etc. This is repeated a few times until we are satisfied with cleanliness. I don' t know if I can ever go back to the types of showers I had at "The Old Place"...I'm so much more aware of the precious commodity that both energy and water are.

This is how we dry our clothing. The presence of the laundry often cuts down on the light into our living room. Sometimes things smell fresh and lovely after they're hung out...sometimes, not.

We hope you enjoyed your "tour" of our views...

Coming soon (when the house is clean)...we'll shoot some pics of the inside of our apartment!

Stay tuned...

No Escape

Yesterday we meandered down to the Nurse's Station here at the Living Quarters.

The 3 sickly young. One gracious interpreter. One weary momma.

It began simply.

Here's the list of symptoms for each patient....

Here's the Momma trying to be respectful of all our neighbors who are so concerned and patiently listing all the symptoms but secretly wishing she'd just been wiser and given them all tylenol and sent them off to bed...

Beyond my error in going there...I did not get Magpie dosed with tylenol in time...and the longer we sat at the nurse's station...her fever began to rise.

By the time it was measured by a thermometer under the arm...it was too late.

Magpie had a fever.

This automatically bounced the medical case out of the court of the nurse and immediate recommendations were made to get to the hospital to see a Doctor.

I suggested that no, I thought I might just put her back to bed with some medicine I had...and that if her condition worsened I would, of course, get her immediately to the hospital.

In the time it took me to say it...and for the translation to be uttered others were involved in the medical crisis others, from the company were on the phone wanting to speak with me to assure me that a reservation was being made at the local hospital to receive us immediately and to usher us through the process!

What is a Momma to do?

Worse yet...what does a Momma, living in a cross-cultural setting, do to use her own judgement and yet honor the practices of the culture in which she's hosted?

We went home...

To get our passports and identification cards before the car arrived to take us to the hospital.

I reasoned on the 30 minute drive there that even though I knew my kids only needed rest and some fever reducer...that this opportunity would allow me to be initiated into the world of "seeking medical attention" at a point in time where there was no real emergency. This chance allowed me to "get my feet wet"...so to speak.

We arrived into the "Urgency Room" (this was the translation on the sign.)

We were greeted by 7, fresh-faced nurses standing behind the intake counter. We could tell they were nurses because they were all in formal dress. Uniformed from head to toe in matching shades of lavender and white dresses, complete with the old-style nurses' hat.

I gave them the affected children's names and we were asked to sit and wait for a moment.

While there we could see into the "urgency room." A gurney wheeled past us with a bandaged-headed woman, presumably her adult daughter and husband looking fearfully on her state. The husband's blue shirt was marred with heavy bloodstains on the shoulder and forearm of his left side.

This alarmed the young.

Then we were summoned.

The nurses were going to separate our pack and take Potato and I one direction while sending Magpie and The Bug off with the Ayi to another area of the hospital. This would not suffice. So we quickly launched a new plan...we would complete the first area...then go to the next.

Magpie's concerns began to grow as we walked up the initial two flights of stairs (16 stairs each.) She was uncertain what fate awaited her at this place where there were cigarette buts in the hallways and staircases. (I thought...when you come to the hospital...you had best be able bodied, there didn't seem to be too many services on the ground floor for your initial intake.)

Then we reached a great open area with seating for the masses and enormous screens displaying directions to and from the different areas to obtain care.

We arrived in the pediatric ward.

We went into a room that said "intake" and stood with 4-5 other parent/kid combos waiting to see who I presumed was the Doctor seated at the desk in the room.

Once Magpie and The Bug's symptoms were translated, they were ordered to sit on the gurney in the back of the room.

This got a little crazy for me because the gurney had a sheet on it that had clearly been there a minimum of ALL DAY and every child was told to sit then lie down on it for examination.

We conversed with a lady who brought in her darling 4 month old son for a "well baby" exam...and he was examined right on the same sheet as my 8 year old daughter who had a temperature of 102.

There was a broken vial in the sink there in the room.

I don't think the Doctor washed her hands in-between patients.

(Now I know that people in North America are germ-freaks. I really don't consider myself one of those and certainly if you've ever visited my home you know that I'm not a germ-freak. In fact I celebrated the day I read a news article that said children raised in "less than clean" homes were in fact, healthier, due to the challenges to their immune systems within the household. ...But this pushed a few buttons for me...and I began to pray that my kids wouldn't head out with anything more than they carried in.)

It was pronounced that we should then have the children's blood tested.

Two more flights of stairs brought us up to the Blood Room. This room resembles the waiting room at the utility company or the DMV where you sit and wait until you're summoned to a numbered plexi-glass window to handle your business.

It wasn't clear how the blood was being taken...and then we saw....


********** L - E - E - C - H - E - S !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ******













No, not really. :)

Actually, they pricked the kids' fingers and bled them into a little vial.

The phlebotomist (don't know if that's what they're called here) wore no gloves.

We then were told to "wait a moment for blood report."

Magpie was teary from her fever and becoming all the more paranoid as FOUR technicians huddled around her blood sample and the computer issuing the report.

She said... "For heaven's sake...surely they've seen O Positive blood before!?"

Upon obtaining the papers...that the nurse assigned to us carried in an important file...we reported back to the Pediatric office.

It was determined that the children likely had a virus and they were each given about 4 different prescriptions for a combo of eastern & western medicine.

We then reported back to "go."

We did not collect $200 dollars.

We then were dispatched with the same friendly nurse (after being given a refreshing glass of hot water) to the dermatology ward.

Potato has had a serious flare up of hives these past two days. She's always one for skin troubles, but this time the hives were huge welts from head to toe.

Up three flights of stairs to the Dermatology wing...

Somehow we were the only patients to arrive there at first. So we were taken into the Doctor's room immediately. As we sat there, several other patients arrived. The population of the room swelled to an additional 15 interested bystanders who were fascinated with the foreigners and their local-looking, fluent-English child with the red bumps.

The audience one has with the doctor is right there, in the open.

The complete patient history is given orally in front of the literal peanut gallery and then the patient is in various stages of undress while he/she shows, in this case, the nasty little skin issues that have afflicted him/her.

(I'm so glad I read the book "Foreign to Familiar" written by a wise woman who has traveled the word and categorizes cultures as Hot/Cold. I was reminded of my being hosted in a Hot culture here...where personal privacy with a doctor would be never be considered important. )

15 extra pairs of eyes looked on and oohed-aahed with amazement at Potato's medical condition. It was surely a change from the Dickson Medical Clinic and Radio Studio we've grown to love over the past several years!

The doctor pronounced that Potato should not eat eggs, milk (without being boiled then cooled) and seafood. The doctor said that the hives have nothing to do with the addition of the new cats (how I hope that is true) and she prescribed an anti-itch cream.

After 20 minutes a pharmacist/nurse/technician produced two little jars (totally looking like they got the jars from a Mary Kay overstock sale) with an "anti-itch" cream for Potato in them.

We quickly went back down to Urgency. (I think I may always call it the Urgency room now...)

Then we were presented with three papers that needed to be filled out in total including all our contact info, insurance info and particulars about the children. AT THE END OF THE HOSPITAL VISIT.

While I was writing the same information over time after time (with only single-child families no one has ever heard of writing "SEE PATIENT XYZ FILE FOR INFO" on the top of the additional kids' forms) I looked into an ante-room of the Urgency Area. I puzzled at the fact that there was a gurney (that looked like it was from a 1930's movie set) stripped bare and a single shoe sitting in the middle of the room. How I regretted that I didn't take my camera with my passport before leaving the apartment! A single shoe....it appeared to be like one of the goulashes that my grandfather used to put over his dress shoes. A single shoe...in an otherwise highly populated area of the hospital...in the middle of a room with a gurney waiting for action.

Who left it there? Why had no one moved it yet?

We finally returned home after a four-hour trip to the hospital.

I nestled the young into their beds and notified them that they would be home from school tomorrow to rest and recuperate.

I myself went to bed thankful for caring co-workers, ready medical care that expands our sense of "correct" and a deep realization that expectations are houses we build in our psyches on sand...

...though everything if different...I am secure in the knowledge that He is constant.

Please, drink hot water...

This is day 3 of your author's feeling generally yucky.

I've just returned from teaching my morning class at the school and hurried back to tend to the 1...2...3 sicko kids here at home. Bummer.

I will break from the intro to this narrative to tell you that the weather here is absolutely gorgeous. If only we lived here in perpetual October! The sky is clear, blue and the weather is sunny and warm. Not too warm, just that perfect warm that you feel good being outside in as much as possible. I took some pictures out our window/balconies that I'll post later...the weather is not to be taken for granted!

Back to sickville...

Truly, never in my life have I ever lived with a group of people so GENUINELY concerned with my health. I consider my own mother to be in the running for "Sister Compassionate"...but here...the tidal wave of concern is incredible.

At the first sign (or confession) of "I'm not feeling well"... the suggestion is immediately made to "Please go to hospital."

Being from the Old Place and being highly educated by The Unlikely Doctor therein, I know that these illnesses are likely just viruses that will pass with time.

If you do not immediately express interest in organizing a car to take you to the hospital, then, the suggestion is made..."Please, drink hot water."

As yet, I have now had 6 different people call/stop by or otherwise generally accost me to insist that I "Drink some hot water."

Before I left for school today one of the mother's of our students came by the apartment. Of course she initially insisted that we go to the hospital. (Of course, given the size of our family...what our colleagues and neighbors see in us when there are 3 kids and 1 parent down is an EPIDEMIC!) I politely assured her that I would go to the hospital if things worsened. Then, of course, she suggested that we begin drinking lots of hot water. Lastly, she wanted to make certain that I knew that there is now a nurse's station here in our Living Quarters and that we should go there to receive some medicine.

It is really, really touching to have so many truly concerned about your health.

But on the way home from school...I began to see that our benevolent caretakers were organizing!

As I strode across the road (a little short of breath from my congestion) one of our friendly security guards came out to meet me. He greeted me with some of the English he's been practicing, I used my local dialect on him. But, he was intent to tell me more...

He rattled of several sentences at me while pointing at the building across from the guard shack.

I smiled and told him repeatedly..."I'm sorry, I don't understand."

He then said "Go with me."

Hindsight says it's a little funny that I just did what he said...but, I've never had a problem with authority...so I went with him.

Into an open door with a sign, in unintelligible language for me, hanging on the window.

Upon entering I got the gist...

She was waiting for me...

The nurse.

She smiled and began to speak to me ushering me to sit down.

Business has been slow, I think.

I tried, in my best broken dialect to tell her that I didn't speak enough to tell her what was wrong, that I 3 kids at home I needed to get to and that our Ayi (the woman who helps us with our translation needs) wouldn't be around until 2 PM.

No communication was understood.

Then she quickly picked up the phone and called our dear Ms Yang who has been our right hand with many things since arriving her. My conspiracy theory mind began to race...

"This nurse was expecting me. I was clotheslined by the guard and sent here by design. The nurse knows to call Ms Yang to translate to me what she wants to do to me."

I explain through the phone to Ms Yang just what I'm planning on doing and that I might return later today with 3 of my young.

I was released.

I was amused.

Everyone from parents, to colleagues, to the nurse and even our Security Guard want desperately to see us get medical attention...now matter how they have to get us there!

On another interesting note...

Some of the medicine in her cabinet had English on it...

Erythromycin, Amoxicillin, etc...

Right there, over the counter...The Unlikely Doctor would never approve...

Super Bug?... bet I've got a guess where it will come from...

I'm going to drink and serve up copious amounts of hot water...

STAT.

The New Boarders...

Your usual author is beginning this post...but I'm going to switch into the voice of Dad...actually is Dad's real voice as I've taken the text from an email he wrote last night to a friend (yes, I have all the permissions secured to post this!) :)

This details the activities of the past two weekends...

In Dad's words:

"There is a funny thing about merchandising things here.

If you need bathroom fixtures, you go to the place in the city where all things toilet come together. There might be forty or fifty shops--each of them carrying the exact same things (likely, right down to the serial numbers).

Well, there is this "pet shopping street."

There was this dog, two weeks ago...a puppy...a dachshund puppy. The girls fell in love. I was the only one who realized that we live on the 8th floor of a 12 floor building.

I said, no.

They were sad, and I soon became sad, eventually wishing that we had a dachshund puppy in our home. I wished for the happy memories I'd have of leashing a whining dachshund pup, walking it to the elevator at midnight...walking out into the winter, steam boiling off of my sleepy head, and waiting for it to circle on a poop spot as my dog-loving family slept and dreamed of puppies and kitties.

We went back to the pet shopping street the next week. I had the incredibly dim lit idea of telling them we would return and get that puppy!

I was a hero for about six hours. Anticipation was high!

I thought that if the pup were gone, I'd be off the hook.

I am an idiot.

As we walked through the pet market, my children were still chanting, "you're awesome, dad--not just because of the puppy we're getting--you're just awesome." As we neared the pup's dealer, we walked faster and faster, and it became sickeningly clear to me that "mr. awesome dad" was going to have to produce.

We looked, and looked.

There wasn't a Dachshund pup to be found anywhere along the 1/4 mile string of shops. Twenty or thirty other breeds--no wiener dogs.

A week passed.

I was now a zero, not a hero.

Cooler head prevailed (Momma), and the grief-stricken children were finally convinced that a kitty was a more appropriate pet for apartment dwellers like ourselves.

So after Meeting last Sunday, we went back--trip #3--and I told Momma that she'd better find a kitten before I found a puppy or........well, I'd be walking it into the cold winter night to poop.

There were two D. pups!

Luckily, there were also some nice looking cats. The kittens were mostly long haired models. But the market had several shorter-haired, more mature cats.

One we asked about was quite expensive, and our Chinese friend found out for us by phone that the cat was apparently "quite famous." We set out to find an undiscovered cat.

We came upon a "cat house" that had about a dozen of them running amok therein. After an hour of test-holding and test-petting and test-lifting and test-stroking and test-teasing each cat, there were three favorites.

The best personality went to a gray longhaired cat that was hypnotized by The Bug. No. 2 was a smash-faced gray with dark gray stripes and spots. It was Magpies's favorite. Momma liked a solid, smokey gray model. Bub, Potato, and Brownie (later christened "the cat whisperer) loved any cat that they could catch.

So we chose the short-haired, 4-month old that Magpie liked.

Momma hesitated just a moment too long over her favorite, so I insisted we get it, too.

I would have gone for a third, but we were out of cash and again, a cooler head prevailed.

I doubt I'll ever say no to a living creature that can't be easily replaced. "

Momma's Pick - "Switch"

Magpie's B-day Gift - "Sweetie Pie"

Developing Connections

This past week has been a meaningful one.

Unfortunately, the author of this blog has been struck down with some tummy/cold/sore throat ailments and I'm "home from school" to rest and get well. I've napped for the past 2 hours...so what else can I do?...BLOG!

During this past week we've seen more and more relationships begin to develop. It's been exciting. Within our school, the mix of faculty is fascinating with various backgrounds and belief traditions. This lends itself to stimulating exchange as the "new" is wearing off our "masks" and we're starting to see the people behind. (I do not mean to imply that only they, certainly us included, wear our bright and shiny "new" masks...just that the time is coming on now where 1st impressions are long gone and now we're "living" together in this place.)

An unusual opportunity presented itself involving a desire on the part of one of our student's who comes from a family that struggles financially. The student wanted to take a special "after-school program" that was offered. However, the administrative assistant for the school and I both knew that once the cost for the after-school program was published, that the child's family would have no way to fund the cost.

The administrative assistant is one of these relationships that's going deeper with us. She is a dear, dear soul for whom we have great affection. I had a discussion with her on the sly and asked her to assist us. Dad and I wanted to pay for the student's program, yet be very cautious that it was anonymous and that the family was able to save face. What began as a "co-conspirators" discussion, developed into a full-fledged..."Why?" conversation. We love "Why?" conversations because they open great doors before us to share more deeply about who we are and what our motivations in this life are!

The sum of money was not at all the issue of the discussion, by "The Old Place" standards it was nominal at best. But, both Dad and I felt that it was what we were supposed to do. So during the "Why?" discussion the admin. assistant said things like "But what would make you think of this?" and "I don't know anyone who would think of such a thing!" and "You are so lovely to do this!" (You would have thought that we'd volunteered a kidney in light of how she continued on.) But there was meaningful exchange that pleased all of us....we explained that we have been blessed with so much from our DAD that we considered it fun to share with others. That doing such a sneaky thing helped us pass on the mountain of blessings we have and spread them around to others.

The admin assistant was positively captivated. It was sheer joy.

There are others here from "The Old Place." No one we've known previously but dear ones with hearts aflame who've come here to teach in their single, post-college, pre-married (or early married) phase of life. We're coming into contact with many of them now through the foreign meeting group from Sundays that I've already told you about.

Last Sunday I had the enjoyable task of teaching many of them at the meeting place. While I loved being able to use my language to share truths that are crucial to live by (and to have those listening really be able to UNDERSTAND my language), I was thoroughly surprised by some of the feedback received. Many of these young adults communicated verbally and by email how we (the whole H Fam) were like their family here. That many come when they are young and "semi-unencumbered" but to see our crazy parade of parents in their mid-life and 5 kids under the age of 9 and hearing a bit of the life we loved back at "The Old Place" that we left behind was encouraging to them! We were startled by this as we would never think of ourselves in that way...but such comments tie into a Word that was given to us by a man back at "The Old Place."

This man, one we hadn't known well, confidently told us after a time of talking with DAD that our work here would be largely about "parenting." That he believed we would find ourselves in a role of "faith parents" to "spiritual orphans."

When he spoke this to us, some 8 months before we moved here and some 4 months before we ever knew about the working opportunity here...we were mystified by such a seemingly strange comment. Yet ever since our arrival we've had numerous ties that connect to that Word the example above, just the latest.

What a wild adventure to follow where He leads.

School is going well.

We're enjoying teaching more and more and Dad is quite the Social Studies and English teacher. While I am able to use pre-designed tests beautifully embedded within my turnkey curriculum...this is NOT the case for Dad. He has one Social Studies class (4 periods a week) in which he teaches a 6th grade and 2nd grade Non-native English speaker, and a 3rd grade and 1st grade native English speakers. He's using predominately a 6th grade text and so he spends hours modifying the lesson plans and creating new ways to teach to such a varied group. The tests that he writes himself are works of art.

I know he'd love to just go to a construction site and work on a railing bid right about now...but truly, I've never seen Dad more a peace. He seems stronger, happier, healthier and more confident that I've ever seen him in 12 years of marriage. When I asked him the other night about it he said..."I have a great peace, it's just not MY plan it's His. So I expect everyday that I'll have everything I need. I feel deeply at peace."

As I left him at the school building today he was busily finalizing the sketch of the school building, an exact to scale drawing that was the final element of his new "Fire Drill Evacuation Policy."

I've said for years he could have taught those boys at OSHA a thing or two...

Magpie is thrilled with her Tae Kwon Do class and her birthday present...the cat, Sweetie Pie. She engages absolutely everyone she can and practices her local dialect. She has taken to it like a duck to water...it's thrilling.

The Bug is reading up a storm and we always hear her striking up conversations with her school-mates about what she believes. She often lifts them up by name when we give thanks at the dinner table as a family. It sometimes moves me to tears.

Potato enjoys her kindergarten so much here in her birth country. She reports to me each day everything she ate and often relays the information in our second language. She delights everyone on the buses when we ride into town as many will speak to her in the local dialect and she just smiles and says back to them "I don't understand you, sorry, I'm from "The Old Place."...mind you, she says it all in the local dialect.

Brownie is flourishing, absolutely flourishing in school. She seems to be the most inclined to pick up language the fastest. She is perfectly happy here, she loves the people, loves her bed, and loves the new additions...the cats. I'm posting about them next if you haven't heard of them yet. We think she's an apprentice for the role of "crazy cat woman" currently being played by our dear friend MB back at "The Old Place." :) She (Brownie) needs only sit down and the cats come running to sit on her lap, purr and generally worship her.

Bub is the most constant, happy soul. I thought the other day...how can it be that this guy, at only 2 years old, can go ALL DAY. I mean, ALL DAY? When we go into town, very often we're on 2-3 buses, crammed into the masses of people, we walk 1- 1/2miles easily and then spend sometimes up to 4 hours round-trip commuting. Bub just keeps on keepin' on. He never complains...he is so low-maintenance that I often forget how old he is. He is DAD's gift as the caboose on this wild batch of gypsy traveling kids!

Sorry, I didn't mean for this to get so long...but, as I'm recuperating...thought I'd try to fill in some more details for our dear readers!

He has done great things for us and we are FILLED with JOY!

As we near month 3....

October 23 will be 3 months since we left "The Old Place"...

On October 23, 9 years ago, we were waiting for Magpie's arrival...it was her due date...it would not be an overstatement to say..."We've come a long way, Baby!"

Here's some things we HAVEN'T done in nearly 3 months:

1) Drive a car
2) Eat at Wilsons' (our favorite Asian restaurant back at The Old Place)
3) Watched a Canadian Newscast
4) Play cards with our best buddies on Friday night
5) Go to the grocery and be able to read the labels...ALL the labels
6) Shop for clothes that fit us (the adults, that is)
7) Sit on the front row at our Sunday meetings
8) Savor one of Mama K's "just because I love you" massive casseroles
9) Rush to co-op...still be late...relish the sweet conversation with sisters
10) Go to OCB with Gramma...for a "business lunch"

That's a tiny, minuscule representation of all the things we're thinking of now as we dig in...suffice it to say...we miss you.

Things are going well here. School has moved into a comfortable, enjoyable place for we teachers and our family's 5 students. Our energy seems to be picking up and we've had a happy Fall thus far. We wear a couple of layers to school now. Monday was really cool...so we wore a couple of sweaters, each...it would have been warmer if the windows would've been shut as there was a stiff breeze...but, no..."we need fresh air." We're going to feel this winter like no winter before. We've lived in really cold places...but we've always enjoyed central heat...most of the places here will not be heated. Though it may only get down to 30 degrees on the average winter day...it will be only about 35 indoors.

Sad casualty...1 of my 3 sweaters that I lovingly brought from home was washed...it was wool. Now Magpie has a new red sweater and I'm down to 2.

On a very bright note reflecting our teaching... Jack hit Mary on the head. (This was, of course, bad...but it was an accident) The crisis happened in my (Momma's) English class. At the height of emotion, aggravation and blame, Jack burst forth with "I'm sorry." To which Mary replied "That's OK." OH HEAVENLY DAYS! I shouted and danced around giving both of the startled students a fright while I commanded them to give me a "High Wu (5)!" THEY SPOKE ENGLISH TO EACH OTHER IN A MOMENT OF GREAT STRESS! This from two of my students who spoke not one word of English on September 1.

I've taught them something...

Dad's superstar status continues here at the old mine...

Today while we were struggling with our tutor to produce the correct tone for a word we wanted to learn...the tutor said..."Teacher D is good."

No comment was made about my efforts. The beat goes on...

I am just glad I get to hang with him...

And, a late "public" shout-out to our darling oldest girl "Butterfly" who turned 18 yesterday...thanks to SKYPE we were able to call her before she started her day and sing to her from the other side of the world! What a joy she has been to see grow into such a lovely, compassionate and wise young woman!

Love to all...

Fall Field Trip

Here's a few shots of our recent school field trip. The adults with us are the other faculty members of our school. The group of kids is our entire school!

The individual shots of kids with adults are their teachers in the Kindergarten...and yes "Bub" is in love with his teacher!

Other shots are of Magpie's stunt that attracted dozens of local kids...The Bug's fashion shoot with a scarf given her by one of the teachers...

The Botanical Gardens we visited were breathtaking...

Hope you enjoy...

As requested...the battle of the bulletin boards...

At long last you can see the bulletin boards that caused such a stir in our marriage....

Please note my crooked lettering and boring bulletin board for my 2nd grade homeroom...

versus...Dad's PERFECT freehand-cut block lettering...now everyone in the Primary school as well as the Kindergarten are asking him to do their bulletin boards!

Photos - At school & around town.

At right: Kindergarten classroom


Below: Dad serves soup -lunchroom



At Right: 1st Grade Classroom



Below: Our school lunch!








Above: Dad's students (3rd & 6th grd)



Center Right: smashed - overcrowded city bus


At right: Together on ferry boat








At right: local laundry practices

Settling

My apologies for the virtual blackout on the blog.

We've enjoyed two holiday periods, the last one fantastically long with one week off school!

Tomorrow we're back at "normal life." School starts bright and early...we leave home by 7:10 am. We school for five days and cram some sightseeing and extra-curricular living in on Saturdays with Sundays primarily focused on meeting with family members at the big International fellowship some 50 minutes to 1.5 hour away.

But tonight we're facing some new realities. We've just savored 10 days of visit from one of the family matriarchs...Gramma Juice was here...and she has, most sadly, left the building. She's somewhere over the Pacific now and should be home at The Old Place in 12 more hours or so.

That parting was hard...we have been looking forward to her visit since we left The Old Place, over two months ago...now, we're aware that we don't know when we'll have her with us again.

A few days ago another difficult transition for us...The Dutch Girl left us after 8 weeks of living in our home. Dad said it right when he commented about how amazing it was that she had lived with us for 8 weeks and we still had not discovered any annoying habits. She's gone to the Philippines and then to Thailand...we're hoping to see her again in December. She's been our right arm with the kids and all the adjustments of living here...and now she's gone, too.

So, the "guest" bedroom is empty for the first time since we arrived at The New Place. Feels a little like flying the plane for the first time...

It was close today. We traveled to the "Pet Market." The Pet market is several city blocks of every type of animal, plant and pet supply item you can imagine. Want a ferret? How about a turtle? A Mina bird? How many types of exotic fish can you imagine...and all so cheap! We lighted upon a darling litter of Cocker Spaniels...it was so close...but we pulled up and got out of there just in time.

We've spent the last week off school traveling all over this little city of ours (10 million souls.) We've seen lots of beautiful lakes and green parks, inhaled volumes of city smog and of course...found new places to shop for things so unbelievable I could hard tell you about them all. Grandma heartily enjoyed the roving about...yet she is still recovering from that nasty knee surgery...so, I'm afraid we really tested the limits of her rehab.

Today I actually saw a "Chinese Fire Drill"...in the middle of a busy street...the man from the rear of the vehicle got out, walked around and changed positions with the driver...

I enjoyed the irony.

This week while shopping at the market I spent some time strolling through the meat section. There are huge cases (like a Costco or another supermarket) filled with meat. But NOT meat that is already portioned, placed on a Styrofoam tray and shrink-wrapped...no, just piles of cut up meat. Stroll through...pick your meat-type, shuffle a few pieces about with your bare hands...then make a selection and carry it over to the meat scale where they'll put it in a bag for you.

While strolling through the meat market I slipped and nearly fell...looking down revealed that there were drops of blood on the floor...brilliant red against the shiny white tile...

no, we're not in Kansas anymore.

Then, I was startled to feel some water splash against my sandaled foot. My eyes fell upon a fish in a plastic bag that had been thrown down on the ground to stun it into inaction so that it could be properly weighed and sent home with the consumer. As I stood there and considered the unusual experience in the supermarket, the scale operator picked up the aforementioned fish in the bag and with a more violent action cast it down onto the floor again at my feet.

The fish lay still...perhaps resigned to it's fate?

On another note...we ate eel for dinner tonight.

We're settling. We're aware that this is for real...that we live here now and that we'll only visit our beloved "Old Place" for awhile. The children are remarkably well adjusted to all the changes. They ride 3 city buses one way to get to our Sunday meeting...all of it does not faze them. But, a couple of them asked to go back to The Old Place with Gramma today...how we miss it there.

But, we love it here too. Really, we love it here and it must be something beyond us that aids us in our times of culture fatigue and stress. We love the people and we are so settled in the knowledge that this is where we're to be right now...it's funny how all the daily irritants of living in a new place that is so far removed from our old "normal" seem to dissolve in the light of our sense of belonging here.

We're stepping into more opportunities to serve and share here...we need your thoughts as this next week holds some new challenges and opportunities.

We miss you and miss "home"...but we wouldn't miss for the world what He has in store for us here.

Promise...no more long delays in posting...stay with us...