Friday, October 31, 2008

On My Own

The train leaves at 11:20 this morning for Ningbo. I don't really know what's in Ningbo, and I'm pretty suspicious about train travel in China. But I'm still excited about stepping onto that train. Because I am stepping on that train without any children.

Most mothers, probably most parents can identify with this. I love my children, and I truly enjoy spending most of my waking and sleeping hours in close proximity with them. But it has been ages since I've spent longer than 3 hours away from them. This weekend, a friend and I are leaving our children behind from 11:20 on Saturday morning until Monday afternoon. And I could care less what Ningbo holds - I know it doesn't hold any kids, and so I'm excited!

**In the interest of full disclosure, I will reveal that my friend is bringing along her 7 month old, who is still nursing. Still, if this kid isn't running around or getting bored, I figure she hardly counts. Besides which, she's not my kid!

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Messy Independents

Wendy has been our ayi for 6 weeks now, and we enjoy her. She works hard, she listens to our needs, and she offers back suggestions and voices her own needs as a good and confident employee would. She speaks wonderful English and gets along well with both L-- and S--.

She tells me that she enjoys them both, thinking them quite clever. She told her family that both of my children can feed themselves, wash their hands on their own, and even clean up their own messes. They're all impressed that L-- helps her sister, and that S-- uses a fork and spoon all by herself.

How do they teach their children these skills? her family asks her.

Well, she responds, you should see the mess those children make.

Her family responded quickly. Oh, I could never live like that!

** It is worth reminding the reader that Chinese families eat with chopsticks, a skill hard to pick up even as an adult. Most children do not learn chopsticks until around 3 years old, making it quite difficult to feed yourself at a younger age.

Looked Like We Made It

We thought we were ready.

We had gathered all of our paperwork. We had gone to all of the appropriate offices in Shanghai, and asked all of the appropriate people for help with translation and to please do these unexpected favors for us. We had gone to the American consulate at odd hours for rather expensive notarization. We had taken pictures and asked people to write letters. We had gone back and gathered extra paperwork, once we learned that we had to work with an agency rather than simply through our social worker (as per Hague requirements).

We sat down this evening to put all of our adoption paperwork together.

We thought we could submit to the agency tomorrow, and essentially be done with it for months.

We sat with the checklist in front of us. We really only used the checklist to make the whole thing feel dramatic; to mark a large X on each line with great flourish.

And then we reached this line:

"Birth Certificate (Husband) w/parents' names listed (extended version) - ORIGINAL"

...and Dave says, wait.

It seems that the state of Illinois isn't too concerned with who Dave's parents are, or what they are named. They are not listed anywhere on his birth certificate.

Apparently, we have NOT made it. It seems that we must request another birth certificate from the state of Illinois, immediately turn that document back to the state to have them verify it, and then send it on to the Chinese Consulate in Chicago for authentication. If it goes as smoothly as it did this summer, this process will only take about 8 weeks.

Eight weeks!

Cooking in Shanghai

First they revealed that the baby formula was tainted with melamine. Certainly this is the most appaling - as every producer on the supply chain knew that their choices would have a dangerous and possibly fatal effect on their intended customers.

Next they revealed that any powdered milk may be tainted my melamine.

Soon after, they revealed that liquid fresh milk had significant traces of melamine. This is where the milk crisis hit our home - milk from Shanghai's Bright Dairy was poisoned. Our original pediatrician recommended Bright Dairy over any imported UHT milk (UHT = unpasteurized, and prepared for a long shelf life = stripped of some of the good things milk holds), so that's what our babies have drunk since our arrival over 1 year ago. Don't worry for us, though - no kidney stones have appeared in any guts in our household.

So, we cut out local dairy. We switched to an organic dairy out of Beijing which produces milk and yogurt. We stopped going out for ice-cream.

Now we learn that Chinese eggs have unhealthy levels of melamine as well.

We have now begun purchasing eggs from this same organic supplier, although we had been consuming the cheapest local eggs on our grocery shelf until just weeks ago.

But the whole mess raises a strong suspicion that I should not purchase local products, unless they have been internationally certified as organic. Melamine is suspected to have entered the eggs through chicken feed. Could this be the same feed they give to chickens bred for their juicy breasts meat? Could this problem extend to pork and beef? Of course it could. I had made a similar choice in the states, but once I moved to China I found organic produce and meat too difficult and pricey - we've got no branch of Whole Foods here. Apparently I need to step up my game.

Of course, the other challenge in putting healthy food on the table is being able to afford even basic ingredients. Forget whether they are organic or not, some foods are only available as imports and therefore come at a premium. A bag of flour costs about 60 RMB - that's about $8.75. A block of cheese costs about 50 RMB - that's about $7.30; and a bag of shredded cheese comes at closer to 88 RMB - that's about $12.85. Fixing a Western meal without basic baking ingredients or dairy limits your choices dramatically. So most of us limit to just 1 or 2 expensive items per recipe. And with that limit, I've found a few Western foods which comes at an acceptable cost.

Apple Chicken Chili
1/4 Cup cooking oil
2 pounds chicken breasts, in bite-sized chunks
4 teaspoons chili powder*
2 teaspoons ground cumin*
salt and pepper
2 green apples, in bite-sized chunks
1 diced onion
4 Tablespoons butter
1/4 Cup flour
2 Cups chicken broth
3/4 Cup milk
2 15 ounce cans pinto or white beans, rinsed
1/2 Cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1 bunch chopped scallions

*The affordability of this recipe relies on a person having imported their own spices.

Heat 2 Tablespoons of oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add chicken, chili powder and cumin. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring, for 5 minutes. Transfer to a bowl.

In the same pot, heat 2 Tablespoons of oil. Add apples and onion. Cook, stirring, for 6 minutes. Add to the chicken.

In the same pot, melt the butter over medium heat. Whisk in the flour for 1 minute. Whisk in the broth and milk for 3 minutes. Stir in the chicken, apples and beans. Add the cheese.

Serve with scallions, chili powder and hot sauce.


Cauliflower Soup
Salt
Lemon juice
1 cauliflower, in florets
3 leeks, the whites thinly sliced
1 quart chicken stock
1/4 Cup sliced almonds

Bring a large pot of water to boil. Add 2 Tablespoons salt and the juice of 1 lemon. Add cauliflower and cook uncovered for 15 minutes. Drain.

Meanwhile, in a skillet over medium heat, melt 2 Tablespoons butter. Add leeks and salt to taste. Cook until tender, 8-10 minutes. Do not brown.

Put leeks and cauliflower in food processor with some stock. Blend until smooth.

In small saucepan, melt 4 Tablespoons butter. Add almonds. Stir occasionally. Cook until butter turns brown - 5 minutes.

Drain butter into soup pot. Reserve almonds.

Stir cauliflower into the brown butter. Add remaining stock and simmer 5 minutes. Season with salt, pepper and nutmeg.

Garnish with almonds.


Oatmeal Apple Scones
1/2 Cup whole milk
1 Tablespoon whole milk
1 egg
1 1/2 Cup flour
3 Tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoons salt
4 ounces butter (1 stick, in the US) chilled and in small chunks
1 1/2 Cup rolled oats
1 red apple cut into small chunks
optional: 1/2 Cup cooked bacon, to add into the batter

Preheat oven to 450. (this recipe will be out for some in China, as it requires an oven)

In a small bowl, whisk together the milk and egg.

In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. Blend in the butter with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add the oats and apples. Stir in liquid until dough forms a ball.

Turn dough onto a floured surface. Pat into a 7 inch round and coat with flour. Cut into 8 wedges. Brush with milk. Bake on a nonstick-sprayed cookie sheet for 20 minutes.

Monday, October 27, 2008

The Ho-Hum and the Whirlwind

I admit to being remiss in posting. It has been over a week since I last wrote. An interesting combination has kept me from my writer's post.

The Ho-Hum of life with a child in school. As of the beginning of September, our weeks have fallen into a strong routine. We're up by 7am, which needs us down by 8:30 that night. I drive the 20-30 minute ride to bring L-- to school every morning, and return around 9am to help S-- prepare for her day. We must lunch around noon to be ready to leave by 12:30 for the ride back to school. We'll stay and play for up to 30 minutes before climbing back into the car and heading home for some much needed quiet time. This leaves S-- and I only 3 hours of free time every morning, which have quickly filled. We host a playgroup. We belong to a Bible Study. I've joined a photography class. And we do shopping and coffee with friends as well. Life has become more routine that either S-- and I enjoy, although each of our attachments are worthwhile. And the routine of each of them leaves a distinct lack of notability in our day to day lives.

While our every day lives leave me with little to blog about, our emotions have been through a whirlwind. Close and dear friends are facing the potential breakdown of their marriage. As painful as it must be to watch close friends struggle through something as difficult as the breakdown of a marriage, it especially hurts us to be so far away. We are torn, as life here has become quite comfortable. We have many friends, a wonderful ayi, a friendly driver, a perfect school and a comfortable home. Our community feels no impact of the economic crisis. And yet, we can offer no more than a phone call when people at home may need us. Or when we may need them.

Making matters more complicated, Dave is quickly reaching the conclusion that his job must change drastically. A quick refresher course on Dave's work situation. He accepted the job in Shanghai on the assumption that his role would be that of a consultant, but within a few months of his arrival, the manager of his department resigned. Dave was the most senior person on the team, and was quickly promoted to running all of China.

Unfortunately, this promotion did not come with a relaxation of his prior resposibilities or with an actual promotion in pay or recognition. It did come with the mess that the previous boss had left behind - many disgruntled employees, quite a few of whom followed her to her new employer.

Dave struggled through an ugly year of losing staff quicker than they could be replaced, and working more hours than was good for his family... this alongside everyone else on his team. Thankfully, someone on the team was promoted to manager as of October 1st and Dave has been released from those responsibilities, back to his original position.

The trouble now is that the old position feels like a demotion. It leaves him bored, and frustrated with a lack of power to make any worthwhile changes. Furthermore, the corporate world leaves him unfulfilled. It is time for a change, although we've little idea what that change may be.

I post the details because I am struck at how universal our story is. So many of our friends have struggled through crisis at home, struggling in part because they couldn't be nearer to their loved ones. So many of our friends feel unsatisfied with the amount of hours their employers expect, and the emptiness that comes from devoting so much of your time and energy to mere profit. And I know that the business of day-to-day life rings true everywhere.

At this point, I've no prognostics. We worry about the marriage of our close friends, not sure how it will change and where their lives will lead. At the same time, we wonder about where God will lead us. Dave's interests are varied and his skill set is broad. With rather specific experience, he has narrowed his options a bit... but those extraneous Master's degrees always seem to creep in as well. And it is certainly possible that things will turn around for Dave in his current position, making Uncle H-- a fabulous employer for the next decade. I'm not confident that we'll be here for more than 9 months, at this point. Although where we'd go next is anyone's guess.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

The Great Depression

The first movie I remember seeing in a theatre was Annie, and I loved it. I remember going with my mom and her friend, and being thrilled at joining them on a women's outing. I remember loving the movie so much that I named my stuffed dog Sandy and listened to the soundtrack for weeks. Maybe years. I remember going to the play at our local dinner theatre for my birthday, where they brought me a cake and the whole house sang to me. What a good movie.

One of the striking things about the movie is the time period. Set during the Great Depression, Annie is a poor orphan sent to live with one of New York's wealthiest men. Although I bought the movie entirely, I believed it based on the characterization that Mr. Warbucks began the movie as a selfish and utterly thoughtless man. How else could a person move through that time period and remain rich? How could a caring person hoard all of their riches when so many around them starved, struggled and died?

Although in my current life, I am far removed from the daily news, I have a general understanding that the United States financial markets are facing a crisis seconded only to the stock market crash in 1929. Not only do I pass poverty on a daily basis in Shanghai, but I now know that my home faces a financial crisis as well. The impact reaches me in vague ways. Our house is currently on the market, but faces pitifully few buyers. Friends who work for GM worry that they have no option but to remain in China - returning home means returning to a division facing massive layoffs and budget crunches.

Its a comfortable time to be an expat in China, living well in a fast growing economy. But as I hear the news and learn how people around me live, I can't help but make the same turns as Daddy Warbucks, beginning to consider the ridiculous wealth we bear in the face of people with so little.

Qingdao, Day 3

As it turned out, our family day in Qingdao was a bit of a let down. Dave felt sick the night before and the girls had gone to bed exhausted, so the whole hotel room slept until well after 9:00 in the morning. We trudged down to breakfast, signed up for a late check-out, and weren't even out the door until nearly 11:00am.

We headed toward ba da guan with Dave's co-workers, guided by one who had grown up in Qingdao and knew the area well. We covered much of the same area the girls and I had walked just days before, but ended up on a lovely beach. The morning had begun with a foggy mist through the sky, and the sun began to break through the clouds as we made toward the beach. Brides in their thick, white dresses with their hair and makeup done perfectly dotted the beach, all arranging their wedding photos. Families searched the sand and seaweed for crab and other creatures. We took pictures and climbed, until L-- slashed her foot on something large and sharp.

This called the end to our beach outing, and everyone headed to lunch. Our Qingdao hostess took the team to a hotpot restaurant and ordered almost exclusively seafood. Seafood in China is a bit scarier than seafood in the states - it generally still has its eyes, and remains slimey. We both enjoyed the oysters, and Dave made a valiant attempt at a squid. But otherwise, all 4 of us quietly finished our meal still hungry and gorged on oranges and peanuts once we returned to the room.

We headed toward the airport at 2:00 in the afternoon and reached home just in time for dinner. A 1-hour flight makes for good traveling with little ones. The Shangri-La made for a smooth trip throughout, although their location had only Pizza Hut as a restaurant within convenient walking distance. The weather and the good company conspired to offer our family a lovely weekend away from Shanghai, and to help us face the upcoming weeks in this packed and polluted town.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Qingdao, Day 2

After enjoying such a charmed day yesterday, today was bound to disappoint. The girls fell asleep late and awoke early, then having trouble napping this afternoon. This certainly set a difficult pallor on the day, which only disappeared when they both fell sound asleep at 9:00 this evening... leaving me in a dark hotel room facing a computer screen for the next few hours.

We began the day at Polar Ocean World, an aquarium sitting at the water's edge. We bought our tickets a mere 5 minutes before the water show began, and headed straight over to watch seals, whales and a walrus dance and perform tricks. We skipped a visit to the zoo, remembering the dancing bears and trained monkeys at the last Chinese zoo we had visited. But somehow, clapping seals and a walrus doing sit-ups didn't seem so bad. The girls enjoyed the show, and were quite excited by its finish to go and visit the other animals inside.

This is still China, where tourist attractions either focus on amazing Chinese culture and heritage, or they make a half-assed attempt to copy something Western. This was one such attempt. The first half of the acquarium saw only about 5 tanks of animals, and some like the Polar Bears looked really cramped and agitated. The building was not at all stroller friendly, and the bathrooms were slippery and disgusting. All that aside, the girls had a great time. The place was not crowded, and my two loved moving from tank to tank and starting at the strange creatures moving inside. L--'s displayed a quick attention span, darting from one tank to the next. S-- showed an interest in what was displayed, often moving back to an earlier tank to watch what her sister had passed so quickly.

By the end, we were all hungry. We jumped into a taxi for a long ride to picnic in Bai Hua Park, said to be the loveliest hidden gem in Qingdao. I assume that the competition for this award was rather slim, but the girls enjoyed romping through the grass with their shoes off and hiding in the low hanging branches of the evergreens. After an afternoon of too short naps, we headed to a sub-par Indian restaurant with Daddy, where the girls ate bread and left with nearly empty bellies. They finished the day watching The Discovery Channel in the hotel room with their hands dug into bowls of Cheerios.

Although the sites and food were less than perfect, the weather and the lack of crowds were quite relaxing. Simply being outside of Shanghai continues to be refreshing, and we've got a lovely weekend to spend time exploring parks. Even common city parks.

Uncle H-- has nothing scheduled for his employees tomorrow, and we don't leave for the airport until 2:30pm. If our children wake before then, we hope to join a friend who hails from Qingdao as she leads a few of us on a walking tour of her favorite sites. If we make it, you can look forward to a photo journal of day 3.

Friday, October 17, 2008

Qingdao, Day 1

It felt rather Twilight Zone.

The plane landed at the Qingdao Airport at 7:20. Qingdao hardly compares to Beijing's largest terminal in the world, but can hold a sizable number of airplanes. As we pulled up to the gate, I looked out the window. No other planes in site. Each gate sat empty, in both directions. It felt eery.

We exited into the airport, and walked through empty halls. The only people in the building seemed to be those on our flight, and those people wearing pretty uniforms who stood at strategic intersections pointing their arms in the direction we ought to walk. Apparently, they worried about us getting lost in this otherwise empty building.

We gathered our checked luggage within minutes and were out the door almost immediately.

We are in Qingdao on a company field trip - a bit of a junket, in my opinion. This is the third company field trip Dave has participated in. In the name of team building, the office gathers everyone available for a weekend and transports them to a lovely city. We all went to Xiamen last October. Dave and L-- went to Hangzhou with the team in the spring. This time the entire office has been flown to Qingdao and housed and fed in the Shangri-La, all so they can sit in meetings all day. We have not seen Dave since breakfast this morning. I suppose a junket by definition does NOT include sitting in meetings all day, but we're a bit surprised at the expense these two days of meetings but be running.

Our bus full of Dave's team members pulled out onto an empty highway. We drove passed signs, statues and specially mown grasses, all in the shape of the sailing emblem from the Olympics. But we rarely drove past another person or vehicle. We pulled into the hotel drive around 8:30 in the evening but it could have been midnight for how few people were around.

And that's where it occured to me. Many seaside cities would feel rather empty in October. In most countries, this would not feel strange. But Qingdao is a city in China. I have not been anywhere not crowded full of people since we arrived in this foreign land last year.

Qingdao has been a refreshing change of pace. The streets are wide, and not full of cars. The people are friendly and not at all pushy - although our children have regained their celebrity status, which they are bristling from.

The hotel is comfortable, with a large and largely Chinese breakfast spread and a lovely pool with a children's paddling pool. The girls and I walked to the seaside after breakfast, heading first to May 4th square. The square itself was rather unscenic, but the view of the Olympic sailing site kept us interested and we enjoyed walking along this promenade for quite some time. After a bit of walking did not turn up a beach, we jumped in a taxi and headed toward what I thought was a site lalong the beach.

Wo yao qu ba da guan, I told the taxi driver. I want to go to ba da guan.

My handy little Shangri-La map made it look like ba da guan is a lovely old stone building sitting on a hill above a beautiful, sandy beach. Apparently this quaint little map was misleading. Ba da guan is apparently a neighborhood of old German mansions situated on a hill above the seashore. The streets and bouleavards were lined with tall trees, and each corner sported a grassy little park. People were few and we enjoyed a pleasant walk through this hilly neighborhood. Were the homes in better condition, and the addresses in another language, I could have imagined we were in the hills of Bavaria for the beauty of these old homes.

Over the crest of a hill and we could see that sandy beach we had been promised. Down the hill, over a surprisingly long boardwallk, and onto the beach where we were stopped by S--'s newly formed fan club. L-- and I traipsed right past the crowds and sat on the beach with our sand toys. S-- sat in the midst of her fan club, 100 meters away from L-- and I, and enjoyed new toys, new treats, and plenty of photographs.

After an hour of playing separately, L-- and I gathered S-- to join us wandering down to the water's edge. After dipping our toes in the water, I loaded both girls into our umbrella stroller and used every ounce of my strength to pull this weighted stroller along a sandy beach to a taxi stand. We zoomed back to the hotel and all 3 of us fell right to sleep.

A quick visit to Pizza Hut after naps left us fully nourished, and a Toblerone from the mini-bar has me feeling full of energy and all ready to face bedtime on my own, as Dave has only just sat down to dinner. Another day on our own tomorrow, and we don't mind at all. Qingdao is truly a lovely city and the weather has been perfect. My girls are good sports and simply being out of Shanghai has been refreshing for all four of us.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Total Recall

We're catching a flight to Qingdao this afternoon - the site of the Olympic sailing competition this summer. So I've only a moment, but wanted to be sure and post this news update today:

http://www.shanghaidaily.com/article/?id=376916&type=Metro

The Shanghai Daily is the local English language newspaper, entirely condoned by the Chinese government. So the reader must take each word with a grain of salt. According to the article above, the Chinese government followed by the Shanghai local authorities called for a complete recall of milk produced before September 14th.

I have not yet been to the store to see if the recall is actually occuring, but the fact of it raises plenty of questions in my mind. Among them,

If this milk has been tainted, why wait to recall products until a full month after the information was released?

September 14th was the day the press shared the story about melamine in the milk. Who is to say that September 14th is the day that dairies stopped pouring melamine into their milk?

The largest fresh milk supplier in Shanghai is Bright Dairy. They were found to have dangerous levels of melamine in their liquid milk. No recall ever occurred. Further, over the last few weeks I have seen corner stands touting Bright Dairy milk products. I've long suspected that the clothes sold in markets around town are either knock-offs or items of too poor quality to be sold in a foreign market. I hate to think what this implies about the milk sold on the street corner.

And I hate to notice that people continue to purchase it.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

You Believe in God?

I've found a lovely women's Bible study I attend every Wednesday morning. The other women are primarily mothers, and all are trailing spouses. Of the twelve women in the group, 8 are pregnant and 2 are in the process of adoption - so we are all quite keenly at the same stages in life.

With this stage in life comes a need for childcare during a Bible study. Bible study is at a friend's home, and I bring along Wendy (our ayi) to sit with the children in one of her kid's bedrooms and play. The apartment is small, and Wendy can easily hear our discussions. Furthermore, the children tend to wander between their playroom and the gathering of women, so Wendy sometimes sits alone. No doubt she listens to quite a bit of what we are saying.

This morning, I mentioned that we will again go to Bible study. This was the first time I had called it such. She said okay. As an afterthought, and with a laugh, she said Do you believe in God? The laugh gave a clear implication of incredulity.

Lynne: Yeah, I do.

Wendy: (grinning) Hmm.

Lynne: Do you believe in God?

Wendy: (nearly laughing) No.

I don't think she meant any insult by her reaction. I would no doubt have the same response if someone told me they believe in the Harry Potter mythology. You must be kidding, I would think. A woman in our Bible study is Chinese, but has lived abroad for the past 18 years. By the way, living abroad is a requirement for attending this Bible study. Proselyzation is illegal in China, and people can be punished on both sides. Although I invited her to sit in on our study, we could both be punished if she did. Foreign passport holders are only allowed to teach other foreign passport holders. I believe that I could attend a local Chinese service spoken in Mandarin, but that I ought to keep my mouth shut.

Back to my Chinese friend. This woman frequently refers to her history, and her conversion story. She says that having been raised in China, she knows that most people find Christianity and faith laughable. School curriculums teach children that there is no God. They don't teach options or respect in different faith systems. They teach that any faith is synonymous with mythology, and that intelligent people do not fall into that trap.

There are missionaries in China, although they must keep themselves under wraps. They generally arrive with different jobs - as teachers or doctors, for instance. Or they arrive on student visas, with the true claim that they are here to learn the language. In Shanghai, I know of very few people actively trying to evangelize to local Chinese people. Apparently, this is not the case further west. A friend who used to live in Kunming (nearly as far west as Tibet) says that most foreign passport holders in that region are missionaries. Further, he says that the government realizes this. When he lived there, he knew that his phone was tapped and that he was followed when he walked. He found that when he took a wrong turn, someone in a dark suit would ask where he was going and quickly send him back the way he came.

And although I do not consider myself evangelical, I do wholly believe that life is better with faith in a Christian God than without. Christian churches are growing like mad in China, even without the help of outside missionaries - and so much the better. In many ways, this society sans faith has become quite amoral over the last generation. While not necessarily sinful, the newest generations feel quite certain that their life should be focused on pleasure seeking and selfish decisions, with no concern either for the common good or for their neighbor. Interesting that a Communist society should raise such a selfish people. And interesting to watch the Christian church growing inside this community.

At the Mercy

Even after a year in China, I still find it amusing how many things come laden with difficulty in my current life. As part of our expatriate package, Uncle H-- foots the bill to ship our entire family to the U.S. and back once a year. We have been at this task for about 2 weeks now.

First, we had to wait for October 1st. Uncle H--'s financial calendar runs from October 1 through September 30. We last went home in February of 2008, so our next run must fall fiduciarily into the following calendar year. Come October 1, we knocked on HR's electronic door with a quick note - Do we have the all clear to arrange for our flights home?

After a few days, we had the all clear. Uncle H-- need not purchase them. We could purchase our own tickets, and send the receipt to HR for reimbursement. This created challenge number two. China is very much a cash-based society. Debit cards from Chinese banks will be accepted at many chain stores and restaurants, but cash manages most work. Our travel agent functions on a purely cash basis, and purchasing 4 round-trip coach seats to the states would cost over 40,000 RMB. This is a pretty large chunk of cash for us to hand over, and then wait a month or more for reimbursement.

As our agent doesn't accept credit cards, we moved onto an airline website. It is this mother's humble opinion that American Airlines is currently the best way for a family to fly between Shanghai and Chicago. With all of those qualifiers, few people could argue - right? Quite simply, only American and United provide direct flights from Shanghai to Chicago - that limits our options to 2. Among the 2, American's planes promise an individual movie screen for each seat. At last check, United had not updated their cross-Pacific planes to make people mildly comfortable. Of course, neither airline or their staff seem to have any particular interest in the comfort of their riders - especially those sitting in the back of the plane, in the cheap seats of coach. But at least American does realize that business is booming and that international carriers are quickly picking up the slack that US carriers dropped long ago.

So, we pointed ourselves toward www.AA.com, who promptly re-directed us to www.AmericanAirlines.cn which quickly and efficiently offered us flights originating in China and at lower prices than those originating in the states. We felt like we were gliding along. And with permission to use the company credit card, there could be no stops ahead. We reserved 4 tickets on our dates of choice. We clicked American Express in the drop-down box and filled in the company's address. We entered the credit card number, and turned for that little ID number on the back. It was almost illegible. Almost, until Dave rubbed his finger over it and smeared it away entirely.

So our flights home will now wait a week or more while HR finds the time to request a new secret ID number for Dave's AmEx card. Because were we to purchase these with our own credit cards, we would be presented with two problems. First - our credit cards work in dollars. Dave receives wages in Yuan. For every major bill received in dollars, Dave must spend an hour or so at the Bank of China convincing them to transfer our RMB into dollars in our account at home. Second - AmericanAirlines.cn doesn't seem to offer fa pious. These are official receipts, recognized by the Chinese government and Chinese HR offices. If ever a person must submit a receipt, it must be a fa piou with a bright red stamp on it. Nothing doing. So we wait.

Wait, as I have for 7 weeks to have the repairs completed in our apartment. Wait to have the balcony scraped and painted, where large chips of old bronze paint chip off with the wind and fly against the newly installed bug screens. Wait for someone to safety-fy the windows - windows which currently open out, just like any door - where a child could step out just as simply. Wait for someone to repair the rods in the wardrobes, which fall down so often that 2 of the 4 have broken. After waiting, and yelling, and waiting, and being stood up, and yelling, and waiting some more, things finally began to happen today.

Two workmen showed up at my door this morning, ready to work. With our ayi, Wendy, at the ready to translate, these helpful men decorated our apartment by drilling 40 holes in the wall to hang our pictures and shelves. I paid them 5 RMB per hole, for a grand total of 200 RMB, or around $30 USD for nearly 5 hours of labor. When showed the wardrobes, they also went out and purchased new rods and fixed each one in no time flat. My heart rate remained steady through the entire day, as these men very carefully measured their holes and cleaned up their messes. Well, made an effort to clean up their messes.

Tomorrow, we expect the painter to fix the balcony flecked with silver and bronze. This same painter is apparently the safety-fier as well, and by the end of the day tomorrow I dare to hope that our home-work will be complete.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Rich People

Rich people make me nervous.

My parents' days of living the moneyed high life ended in the mid-80s (true of so many people, I understand). After a year of job searching, our family packed up the dream home and moved a few hundred miles, following a job to Kansas City. We were hardly destitute, but by income we were certainly lower middle class. And living with 3 children through a year of unemployment, the family savings were low.

We moved to Johnson County, Kansas before 3rd grade. At the time, I doubt I noticed how the other kids dressed or that they primped for school. But by 6th grade, when our family again faced unemployment, I knew quite keenly that the other kids were spending much more money on their clothes than I. A conversation with a girl so insignificant that her name escapes me still rings in my head. We sat in 7th grade art class, neither of us interested in art or surrounded by friends. Making snide conversation, she asked: Where did you buy your clothes?

Lynne: This? I think at K-Mart.

I knew this was the wrong answer, but how does a 7th grader deflect such a straight-forward question?

Snotty Girl: K-Mart?!? I've never bought anything from K-Mart. Oh my gosh!

Lynne: -

There's no response to a statement like that.

Snotty Girl: Okay, but you must not buy all of your clothes at K-Mart. Where else do you shop?

Lynne: Um, we head over to Venture sometimes.

Snotty Girl: (clearly not impressed) What about The Gap or Banana Republic. You must have at least clearance rack clothes from there, right?

Lynne: Nothing.

Snotty Girl: Why wouldn't you buy something there?

Lynne: My mom thinks it too expensive.

Snotty Girl: You're kidding. The Gap is not expensive. Do you even know how much their clothes cost?

Lynne: No. I've never been inside.

Snotty Girl then starts laughing loudly, and explaining the absurdness of the situation to her not-friends sitting within voice range. Lynne sat quietly humiliated, and looked forward to the day that art class would end.

The Gap can thank Snotty Girl from 7th grade for my rarely entering their store until they released some really worthwhile maternity clothes at some really worthwhile prices and just the right time.

Unfortunately, Snotty Girl carried a very Johnson County attitude. Too large a proportion of my graduating class received a new car for either their 16th birthday or their graduation - and far too many received one for both. Brand names mattered as early as 5th grade, and my friends and I skipped the actual prom because the cost plus the accoutrements brought the entire fiasco way out of our league financially.

Moving into an expat community made me nervous. I feared it would be like a return to Johnson County, where everyone expects you to show your worth.

As it turns out, the opposite seems to be true in most circles. How I dress, where I live and how often I eat out are not seen as platforms for judgment. In fact, the expat community seems to be very decidedly middle class. Admittedly, we do all have hired help and primarily function as one-income families. This fact, coupled with our spending power within our present circumstances, pulls each family I know into the upper middle class.

Most expatriates earn more money in wages than they did in the states.
Most expatriates have their cost of housing in Shanghai paid for entirely.
Most expatriates have their children's education costs in Shanghai paid for entirely.
Most expatriates have at least 1 annual trip to their home country for the entire family paid for entirely.
Many expatriates have their car and driver covered.
Many expatriates receive a per diem to cover incidentals like food and taxis.

With many or all necessary expenses covered, most expatriates receive almost their entire salary as disposable income.

Interestingly, very few people I have met carry around a rich person attitude.

Many people are saving up to 75% of their monthly income.
Many people are traveling regularly.
Many people are investing in tailored clothes and handmade furniture - heirloom pieces which will last for years, and come at a bargain.
Many people are starting new business, as writers, jewelry importers, or second hand dealers.

These kind of rich people can be really fun. Spending is not a pre-requisite for casual or close friendship. But trips together or evenings with the girls can be planned without concern to anyone's budget.

We recently planned a trip with a group of friend to a retreat center in the hills outside of Shanghai. Most of the families look forward to spending this weekend away in the beginning of November. One family chose not to go. Not because they couldn't afford the trip, but simple because they didn't see the value of the destination as meeting the cost.

In Johnson County, when I entered a store with a baggy t-shirt and old jeans, I was looked down upon as lower class.

In St. Louis city, if I cared about my identity, I threw a wool coat over my baggy t-shirt and old jeans.

In Shanghai, if i enter a store wearing a baggy t-shirt and old jeans, I may be the worst dressed person there. But rather than studying the depth of my pockets, staff employees assume me to be a rich eccentric... if they notice at all.

Certainly I've grown in self-confidence since those Johnson County days.

But the rich expatriates surrounding me in China have no princess delusions, either. We're all missing Target.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

The Chinese Chef

I'm not one of those people who can pop into a grocery or market, grab a few key ingredients, and go home to build an affordable and nutritious meal. I'm a recipe chef, which has left me hanging here in Shanghai. American food differs from Chinese food in many ways, and so many of those key American ingredients come at a high price in Shanghai - if they can be found at all.

One of my favorite resources for new recipes is Every Day with Rachel Ray magazine. I know you think she's overplayed. In Shanghai she is anything but, and her recipes always please my family's palate. My mom stockpiles them for me, and so I've stayed in the Rachel Ray food loop since we moved. Trouble is that most of her recipes call for a trendy new ingredient, like a jar of roasted red peppers or a can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce. These things are surely absent from any shelves in Shanghai. Furthermore, her recipes focus on local fresh ingredients - but those same ingredients are neither local nor fresh in my market. And lastly, American recipes focus on cheese and bread, both of which come at a premium in Shanghai.

But September's issue was different. Much of the produce listed in the recipes can be found on my local shelves. Some of the recipes even have an Asian flair. I decided to make a pork stir-fry on Monday night. Many things about the ingredients and the prep style reminded me of the dishes I learned in my Chinese Cooking Class last month. I substituted real Chinese marinades for American "stir-fry sauce" and used real Asian eggplant. The only American portion I noticed was the use of a red bell pepper rather than green peppers.

It tasted good. It was affordable and simple. It made a lot, so we had leftovers.

The next day, our new Chinese ayi Wendy was preparing lunch for S-- and I. She found these leftovers and added a few bites to her bowl. As we sat at the table, she shared that she had tried my dish.

Wendy: This pork is very good. Did you make it?

Lynne: I did. You really like it?

Wendy: Yes, it tastes very good.

Lynne: That's great! I'm excited that you, a Chinese person, actually likes my homemade Chinese food.

Wendy: This is Chinese food?

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Makin' Me Itch

In the car on the way to school with L-- this morning, I mentally updated my blog. I wrote about how smooth life has become. Our home is large and quite comfortable. My child attends a wonderful school. I have good friends. We have found a promising Bible Study with a large Christian community. We have a good ayi. We have travel planned. Life is good, and has been for some time.

It is unfortunate that I didn't wait one more day before I went shopping. The move across town has renewed some of my old frustrations, making things difficult to find and calling for treks all across town for necessary items.

1st stop: Decathlon
This European import sells sporting goods in a mega-store format. As the Chinese have not yet become purveyors of sneakers or t-shirts, Decathlon is a staple in the western expat's shopping diet. The new store is quite a ways away from our new home, but the 45 minute drive went down rather interesting streets and S-- and I passed our time happily munching raisins and watching the movie out our windows.

Upon arrival, I headed straight to the shoe section. I had been forewarned to bring shoes. I wear size 10 women's shoes in America; and just as Chinese women to not have large breasts, they also do not sport size 10 shoes. According to the expat grapevine, this expat store was the place to go. We spent over an hour studying nearly every shoe in the store. It seems that each brand converts American sizes to European sizes with a different formula, and so it took quite some time to determine my shoe size. My size 10 feet in America wear in a European size 42 in Adidas and 41 in the Decathlon store brand. Apparently, the folks making sneakers for Decathlon don't expect women to wear size 42, so I spent most of my time at the men's shelves. Out of the few shoes that fit my feet, looked pretty and un-manly, I found one suitable pair and paid 499 RMB. Good thing we're rich - these babies cost me in U.S. dollars, although if they hold up until our next visit to the states (the first one being in a few shorts months) then they'll be worth their price.

En route: Phone call from Leo
Leo is our rental agent. Although I found him quite helpful before we moved into our apartment, he has been just short of useless since we arrived. This morning, the rod fell down in our closet. This has happened before, only this time the attachment mechanism broke and there was no repairing it. I called Leo, whose standard attitude is to imply that all problems are my fault. He made a valiant attempt this morning, but to no avail. I stuck to my guns - the wardrobe must be repaired. He faltered, and told me to call maintenance from the complex. These are the people who fix overflowing toilets and replace your keycard - I don't have much hope in their ability to repair furniture. He also updated me on our remaining repairs. Apparently, the man who promised to return to our home immediately after the holiday (which ended Sunday) has skipped town. He will return on October 15th - at which time we can ask him to schedule us in. Poor Leo receives the brunt of much of my anger, and got an earful. This worker has been on my schedule nearly 6 times - each time he has canceled for an irresponsible reason. He is not only contracted to paint our balcony, but also to childproof our windows. Leo thinks I'm overeacting when I tell him that my child not only can, but frequently does open her window and lean outside. Of our 10th story apartment.

Frustration mounting.

2nd stop: Carrefour
This French giant sells anything a Chinese family needs, and even a few things an expat needs. They have a comfy imported foods section with friendly prices on their small selection. I always walk away with more than I intended to purchase, and today was no exception. Well, one exception - in that I was not able to walk away with what I did intend to purchase. It seems that China is experiencing a diaper shortage. Last night's walk to the local grocery saw the price of diapers nearly double. This morning's ride to Carrefour saw a distinct lack of diapers on the shelf. Now, I do not actually expect that China is experiencing any sort of a shortage. But I am left floundering for how to bring diapers into my home.

I moved onto the butcher as our last stop. As a general rule, I only buy meat from City Shop, a store devoted primarily to import groceries and with an expatriate clientelle. Stop 3 today would have been City Shop, but my clock ran too fast. For us to eat dinner tonight, I had to buy meat at Carrefour. I scanned the options. Pork loin was labeled in English, looked rather healthy, and was nicely shrink-wrapped to keep sneezers and fingerers from spreading their germs. This in comparison to the pork ribs in the next bin - no plastic, and all covered with sneezes and fingerprints. I braved it, and we'll eat a pork stir-fry for dinner. But moving over to the chicken for dinner tomorrow, I simply couldn't stomach it. The boneless, skinless chicken breasts each sat in a small pool of liquid and were framed on the left by neat packets of chicken feet and on the right by whole, dead, plucked chickens. And when I saw whole, you must know that these little guys are looking right at you through their beady little dead-eyes.

En route: I left feeling a bit weirded out, and mighty frustrated. I'd also missed lunch, so S-- and I split a Snickers bar on the way to L--'s school. Those do satisfy the craving for something familiar, although I noted an expiration date of August 5, 2008.

Stop 3: L--'s school
I love this place. Parents can pick up their children between 1:00 and 1:30. We often try to arrive early so S-- can play with the bigger kids, and all of the fun toys. I spent a lovely 30 minutes chatting with the other moms and teachers. Today, everyone seemed in a mood to stand and chat in the cool fall air, watching the kids race on their trikes.

We headed home. I got the girls down for naps, rather smoothly I might add. I made plans with some friends for Thursday morning, and again for next Tuesday. S-- and I are happily booked for the next two weeks. I moved to the kitchen to put away the groceries, and found a chunky little cockroach crawling over the Sprite can.

Today, China is makin' me itch.

Sunday, October 05, 2008

Sleeping on a Jet Plane

We should all be on an airplane right now.

We spent a rather tedious summer in Shanghai, having only left town for a few quick trips to Beijing, southern China and Hong Kong. Our family has not been outside of China since early April, and we're feeling this sorely. A very interesting and exciting place to live, Shanghai fills our lives with good friends and plenty of chances to explore a new world. But China can wear a Westerner down, and a good dose of not-China is the best prescription for those China-weary families.

This summer we received an invitation to a wedding in Phuket, Thailand. Phuket is a beach town, and a common destination for the China weary Westerner. The wedding would take place at a gorgeous little boutique hotel, populated with villas of 1 or 2 bedrooms, each facing the beach. Rooms offered at a half-price discount for wedding guests made the trip irresistible. We RSVP-ed, we booked rooms, and we arranged flights. We went to the ATM for days in a row to pay for our flights in cash. We booked a non-refundable room in Bangkok - why wouldn't we?

We were so excited.

And then we heard from Jon and Stacey.

Jon and Stacey live in Cambridge, England. Jon is Dave's brother and Stacey is his wife. We've always enjoyed their company tremendously, but as both families live abroad we spend precious little time together. They had last seen L-- when she was only 9 months old, so they had certainly not even met S--. A visit was long overdue, and this was the purpose of their call. She had been invited to stand in a wedding in Sydney (all expenses paid) and their flight could layover in Shanghai for as long as they liked. The only caveat - they must visit the week of the October holiday.

We called the travel agent, and canceled our flights. We emailed the hotels and canceled our rooms. We lost a good chunk of money and our last opportunity to leave the country before Christmas.

Jon and Stacey arrived on Monday afternoon - with no jet lag, coming only 2 hours difference from western Australia. They left on Saturday, after a truly lovely week. Because of the holiday, L-- had no school and Dave had no work. He spent less than 1 hour per day checking emails, and never once turned on his Blackberry. We ate good food and walked the town. L-- and S-- showed their aunt and uncle the playroom and the playground. We relaxed together as a family, spending the days playing together and the evenings talking well into the night. We had a truly wonderful week.

Had we gone to Phuket, we would now be on a full flight that would last 6-7 hours and last in Shanghai in the wee hours of the morning. We would all be exhausted, and the night would have been miserable for both the children and the adults.

All things considered, we've absolutely no regrets.