Local Color

Three pictures...though seemingly unrelated...have a strong connection in my mind.

They represent a few glimpses of the Old and New Here. This place with ancient roots grapples to modernize while maintaining its revolutionary "common sense."

The columns above at a historical site...at one time despised...now cherished as new generations flock to see the heritage of this mighty nation.

Generations of people have eaten the feet of chicken Here...now offered all scrubbed up and packaged on a styrofoam tray...for the modern consumer...still not for me...

This is one of my favorite photos...ever...

My friend, during her visit here last month snapped this shot...

The bike, broken badly, still strikes the heart of the owner as a valuable commodity...and one that should be protected by a lock to fend off looters...

Old and New...the Future and the Past... wrestle with each other to settle their disputes over which is more essential.

It's fun to have a ringside seat...

The Hair Shop...Part 2

Last night Magpie begged to return to The Hair Shop for her own style update.

Dragging my feet...I took her there...

(At this point in the narrative, the H Fam would like to give a shout-out to Terri B and Kelly K who graciously and expediently cut the hair on our heads when we lived There...my...how we miss you...)

Magpie's appointment began with a shampoo/head massage. It lasted 1 hour. No kidding.

The Bug had gone down to the shop with us and played with the dog I mentioned in the previous post, (who I am now convinced would have to be registered as an offender if it lived back There.) I sat on the red, Naugahyde chair swatting at the new crop of mosquitoes while we awaited Magpie's release.

After the 1 hour head wash/massage...the haircut began.

Here, they don' t take a section of hair and cut a straight line across it...they instead snip the hair with the points of the scissors to make a more "natural" look, I suppose. To me it looks uneven and like hair that needs a clean, blunt cut...but alas...I'm not from around here.

Magpie has one of the most densely populated heads of hair follicles imaginable. This pointed snipping of hair, section by section is a profound labor for the stylist.

I had to take The Bug home and put her to bed.

Once The Bug departed, I had to endure the indignity of the Offender (dog) who bathed my toes with licking and scratched my legs with his little pleading paws. At one point, when we were 1 hour into the haircut...at hour 2 in The Hair Shop...I laughed out loud thinking..."Does no one see what this dog is doing to me?!"

I stomped my feet. I kicked the dog NO LESS than 85 times. I pushed the dog away. I walked around the room in an attempt to escape.

Magpie through her bashful giggles, said...."gee Momma, wish you knew how to tell the dog 'I already have a husband!' in Chinese."

After 3 hours...I am not joking...3 hours for a hair wash and cut...they told us that we should go home and get Magpie some rest and that we should return on Saturday so that they could FINISH!!!!!!!!

We may never get our hair cut again...

Share the Road...Shut your Mouth!

Oh My...

A painful awareness is settling upon me...that icky, thick feeling of unease...a soggy, smothering blanket of regret...

I have erred.

Of course the author has erred many, many times today, this week, this year, etc. No...this is worse. I have violated the code of cross-cultural worker...my dear husband suggests a tattoo on my forehead of UA (Ugly American) to proclaim my guilt.

It all goes back to this new found love of bicycling.

Since the H Family scored some sweet new wheels in February we have relished the wind in our hair, the sun on our faces and the astonished looks of the throngs we fly past as we ride to school each morning and home each evening. It is not a long trip. It's actually quite silly that we bike it...but it is really, really fun. Being "car-less" for nine months has given us a new appreciation for the wheel and a rolicking passion for of our new "biker" lifestyle. When you see the little H family members, pink and purple backpacks mounted on their backs as they roar off like a herd of turtles in the morning...it's deeply moving. To see the "bigs" Magpie and The Bug cheering on their slower siblings as they circle around the swarm of slow moving objects like Shriners in training...it fills your heart with happiness. This is how we roll, people.

So imagine our amazement when new signs were posted this week at both the school and the LQ (Living Quarters) gates..."For safety reasons, please walk your bike through the gate." These signs directing our tribe to dismount our bikes now 2 more times for our short ride to school.

(Keep in mind that mounting and dismounting the bikes with the littlest H family members is an INVOLVED process...such additional requirements would utterly sabotage our ability to make it to school in a timely fashion...lest we depart the night before!)

In the previous months the guards who man the two entrances have opened the large, electronic gates wide for us to ride through. These are the same gates that are routinely opened for the various cars, trucks and scooters that motor their way into and out of the school's area and the LQ.

A few weeks ago...they stopped opening the gates...directing our group instead to squeeze through the small walking gate. Initially I was frustrated, but thought perhaps they had deemed this a good choice for energy conservation. (Somehow I reasoned that by saving that pesky opening of each gate once a day for our group would definitely impact the bottom line.)

Then a week ago, we began to receive messages, through hand gestures and charades that we were to WALK our bikes through the narrow walking gate at the LQ.

We continued to ride our bikes through the gate at the school, however.

Yesterday, I was commanded by one of the guards at the school gate to WALK our bikes through the school gate, too. When I looked puzzled, the guard pointed to a new sign posted at the gate school. "For safety reasons, please WALK your bike through the gate."

The distance from our home to the school is perhaps about the same as 1 1/2 city blocks. We already dismount our bikes to cross the street midway through the "ride" and struggle like turtles on our backs to get underway again. With this new "safety" regulation...we would have to dismount another two times....or simply walk our bikes for 1/3 of the distance!

Then the western-minded me began to stew on this (I know you're all reading and thinking 'is she really upset about such a stupid thing?'...but in fact I am...chalk it up to culture stress, I think). I begin to rhumenate...

1) "'For SAFETY reasons?'...if we wanted to be safe we should not allow the cars and scooters to come flying through the gates when people are walking there too!" ... but alas, pedestrians have NO RIGHTS here...none...you WILL BE RUN OVER if you are in the way.

2) "We're the only ones who ride bikes to school...why are they punishing us, taking away the precious daily joy we share as a family? Don't they see that we're hanging on by a thread, that we need this little sweet reprieve to dull the sharp edges of our days? Have they conspired against us? Why was there no vote on this? There ought to be a community meeting!"... (Dramatic thinking...it is a genetic trait in my family.)

So this morning...we walked to school.

I spoke to a mother on the way who works at the company and "let her in on" my frustration at the new anti-bicycling rules. She said she'd ask why the new rule had been posted.

After arriving at school, I "shared" my dismay with the school secretary at the new "we hate foreign bicyclists" rule. She said she'd check into it.

After 2nd period today, through no fault of MY OWN, the parent of Daddy's student, the 6th grader, came into the Teacher's office to drop off his son's forgotten Tae Kwon Do outfit. He said, "Teacher, how do you like teaching here?"...With Daddy literally convulsing a warning to me NOT TO SAY A WORD ABOUT IT...I officially "complained" about the grievous insult to bicycling aficionados worldwide and that we "green-living" souls were fed up with the way all those who burned fossil-fuels on their way to school were given preferential GATE TREATMENT over we...formerly, happy, carefree Tour De France contenders!!! I mean really dudes, SHARE THE ROAD!

The look my husband gave me upon the departure of the parent...who HAPPENS to be the Manager over ALL FACILITIES here, both LQ and the School...well, it was murderous!

At lunch I asked my dear husband to go over to the little grocery, outside the LQ gate, to get a drink for my parched (due to tooooo much talking) throat.

Being the absolute dear that he is...he hurried...and rode his bike.

Upon his return he reported to me that when he approached the School gate he was waved on through, vigorously by a guard...wild arm motions, pronounced enough to direct a 747 across the gate's threshold.

Then, when turning back to return to the school...my husband noted...

It was GONE!

The new "safety notice" had been removed!

It is now one hour before we must go out there and face those guards....

Having been an idiot...the shame for my entire family rests upon me.

I am the stereotype...I own the title...Ugly American...and how I wish I could retract it all.

While I have tried to humorously convey the passion of what I see was a STUPID mountain to die on with our hosts here...the fact remains...I blew it.

When living in another culture, daily processing things that "aren't like I expect them to be"...I so often feel like we're doing a good job assimilating...

and then today happens...and I'm ashamed of my cruddy witness...

Most of the time, due to language, I can't convey my frustrations and opinions...a providential irony given my former "identity" of being a radio talk show host...

Got to go find my phrase book and brush up on how to say..."so sorry that I made a big deal over something that should have been addressed quietly...if at all"...

Maybe they'll teach me how to say..."Shut your mouth"

... guessing my dear husband will be eager to learn that one...

The Hair Shop

We live in a nice, quiet community here. It's gated, with uniformed guards and all those within the walls either work for or are family members of employees of the corporation that funds our school. We have a modern apartment with many conveniences and the corporation has given great thought to bringing essential daily elements close to the apartments here.

For instance, just outside the gate, housed in the buildings of our complex are a small grocery store, two restaurants, soon to be a bakery/coffeehouse (much more exciting news on that development in a later post) and...as of this week...a Hair Shop.

The proprietor, a chatty, kindly gal with a severe hair cut accentuated with blocks of orange color...was delighted to see the local foreign family show up on this Sunday evening for some hair maintenance. Translation fell to the junior H family members who were an attraction for the two stylists (young men, obvious consumers of massive amounts of hair product.)

The proprietor lives on the third level on the shop and as we have noted in the past few weeks, she, in the local custom, hangs out her wash on the iron fence outside of her Hair Shop...even the unmentionables billowing in the breeze like silken sails.

She owns a dog. A VERY well groomed Pomeranian (likely the dog endures countless hours of primping by the aforementioned stylists as business is still a bit slow.) The dog, while glamorous in appearance has a unfortunate habit of displaying his overactive libido...on the patron's leg of his choice.

Once again, language fails me.

I want to scold the dog...he speaks no English.

I want to kick the dog across the room...not a very good first impression of the foreign teacher's family on our first visit to The Hair Shop.

Then the dog turns his intentions on some of the Junior H family members...who innocently believe the dog is playing with them.

The situation is too awkward to use my language skills to explain the situation accurately to the young involved.

As it was our first visit...and it took 2.5 hours to wash, head massage and cut the hair of only 4 H family members...I dispatched the remaining 3 home to prepare for the school week and to simultaneously spare them any more "play time" with the dog.

I bought the VIP card.

This is a common offer Here. You buy the card, you get a discount, they secure your future business. (The nearby pizza place is so enamored with our business that we've been upgraded from a VIP card to an "Imperial Level Card" that gives us a 20% discount on any meal we purchase there!)

I didn't ask, due to language, but I'm guessing the inappropriate behavior of the dog is offered at no extra charge.

I got a good haircut and a better head massage. The Bug got a trim, I think. Bub got a cut though they explained to me it would have been better if he had held still...at 3 years old...the one hour haircut may be a bit much for him. Dad got a cut that he says makes him look like a dead ringer for Caesar Augustus...

I walked home happily inside the gated street of our LQ (Living Quarters.) The night was balmy and I savored wearing my sandals again...and I felt it well up...so unexpectedly as it often is...random Joy.

Daily our experiences are almost too wild, too bizarre to write about...yet truly, we can "count it all joy."

Language Eruption

We've been Here for nine months now.



Language has been diligently studied by all the Junior H family members in their respective classrooms.



Dad and I have managed to cram in some words and phrases that help us get around. And, we can boast a new sense of awareness when locals are speaking...we can understand the gist of the conversation quite often now.



We've heard the kids using some language here and there. They practice with each other. But Magpie has been the only one to really press herself to use the language with strangers. If I encouraged The Bug, Brownie or Potato...I often got shy smiles and giggles.



We were so surprised when, without warning, this past week a Language Eruption began!



The first sign of new language activity was on the part of Brownie (4.) At dinner this week she told us, "you tell me what you want and I will order it for you." And that is just what she did! Not only did she translate our order for us into Chinese, but the waiter UNDERSTOOD her meaning the very first time! This language is a tonal one, meaning the same word "Ma" stated with four different tones has four different meanings. So, Brownie chose the right words and fluently, with the correct tones, ordered our meal. She was so proud! We were awestruck! (It was apparent that so too was the waiter that this foreign girl spoke in perfect Chinese to him!)



Later the SAME evening we were buying bread at a market. The cashier spoke to Potato (5) in rapid-fire Chinese expecting that since Potato is Chinese, she'll speak the language. This has happened countless times and often Potato just smiles and says "I speak ENGLISH." But this time, without any hesitation she launched into a dialogue with he cashier. Answering the questions she was asked, offering some further commentary she smiled proudly at my astonished look.



Yesterday Potato told me..."I only speak English at home, Momma."



A barrier is being deconstructed for our children, right before our eyes. They are learning the language...they are not just surviving, but flourishing with the challenge.

The Thaw

Spring has sprung...

We're thawing out and perhaps now the author's mind will begin to release creative post for this blog again. The spring has been so busy... we've traveled to see the famous tomb of the Terra Cotta Warriors...we've housed over the past 4 weeks two different families each with 3 and 2 kids respectively...we've begun some very promising meetings at the very core of our work here...and we've spent lots of time on our bicycles! (It should be reported...though I have no idea when you will see photographic evidence...that the author now has wheels, too! The "Green Goose" is a real humdinger of a bike!)

Thanks to all of you who have chastised me for not posting here. I hope some folks still will return to check up on us. Recently I sent an update about the Junior H's to our eldest daughter...since it talks about where the kids are to date...I'm ripping it off for this post...

Magpie, 9, continues in her Chinese progression of language. She's delighting in the opportunity to show off those skills to her dear friend who's here visiting. Both these childhood friends have grown up quite a bit and it's been sweet to see their devotion to each other. It has really soothed some of Magpie's sore spots over missing friends. The balance in the classroom has really shifted too. Magpie who has really struggled with feeling "friendless" has savored this time of having her lifelong friend along for her life Here. We see it as His mercy...

The Bug just got over some illness she picked up at the Terra Cotta Warriors. (You know how nasty those 2000 year old bugs can be!) She was really tired on the train home Sunday night and just told me that she wanted to go to bed. (Can't ever remember the Bug doing that...EVER) She slept all night but ate little the next day, preferring to sleep on the couch instead of playing. Tuesday early morning she woke me up to help her while she threw-up. But, amazingly, by 1 PM she was much improved and was back in school today. She helped me last night by organizing the table set up for the big dinner and instructed her dear friend on what to do. They are SO well suited for each other. Today, I struggled to get them out the door because they wanted to play one more hand of cards! She's settled down so much in her school work and is proving to be such a great speller and English champ!


Potato cracks us up as she continues to amaze us with her quick-witted responses and her attention to detail. Her size continues to be so slight...but our friend Ms Pan traveled with us to the Warriors with her son, Frank. (The one I've posted a picture with Potato before who LOVES her and wants to do everything for her) Anyway, he's her age and not much bigger than her...so they make quite a pair. She's speaking much more Chinese now, interchangeably with her English, and she's such a HAPPY, HAPPY heart. What a spitfire!

Brownie is steady and predictable. I don't mean to say that she is easy...as she is far from that. But I can always tell well she's going to sound the alarm that she's not comfortable or does not appreciate the direction her family is heading. She has begun to reveal an prominent sense of musicality...certainly rhythm. Her music teacher keeps encouraging us to put her in some special classes. Although she is really maturing and is able to get herself mostly together in the morning, her DEMANDS REGARDING HER HAIR are about to drive me over the edge! She has a particular hairstyle that she's developed (a sole ponytail, high on the back of her head, but not including 80% of the hair on her head, and a clip pulling her bangs over to the side, bluntly) and no matter how I try to cajole her to do her hair in a more becoming or at least "less random" fashion...she CANNOT be swayed! "This is NOT a mountain I need to die on...think of those ahead"...I keep telling myself.

Bub...oh...my little man. He is a total charmer and my heart literally SWOONS at his smile. At his tender age of three, he is, of course, unable to judge the good/bad behavior of his fellow classmates. He, a formally perfect child in the classroom, has become a challenge. Recently he had to undergo a "reformation week" in which he resisted re-education. (Background...he had to have 1 week of spankings for trouble in school each day.) I'm pleased to say that he has drastically improved from those days of blight...but he still struggles from the temptation to join the dark side. He's a dreamer, I think, just like his Daddy. He has a marvelous sense of timing and he can already work a room when he wants the attention. Most often his ploy, a most successful one, includes a mixture of giggles, tickles and kisses while his eyes snap with mischief. His sisters spoil him, quite literally, rotten. He is the prince around here. But he LOVES, LOVES, LOVES his family and shows great sensitivity to our devotions in the evenings. Recently, when it was his time to pray he began to list every single blessing he could conceive of to bring to light....cups, plates, shoes, trucks, papers, buttons and that 'today momma and dad didn't 'pank me!" I am on the verge of devouring him...

I had a woman tell me something that yet another couple repeated to us last weekend about this business of following Him...it's really been on my mind...because I understand it much more now than before... That this is the greatest life of all to lead....not living Here...but living in obedience.

Times are difficult. Tears are frequent. Our souls are joyful. We are blessed...

This is the story thus far of our life Here. We often wonder why us? Surely there are millions better suited!

Yet we see that this work...this place...was prepared for all our quirks, eclectic histories and our gifts.

My friends, we are sure of this...

There is a Master Designer and He is intimately involved with the plan...

We've given Him all that we have...for all that is better...