Family

I’m waiting for our luggage to come rolling along the figure eight carousal when Yang comes by and says she’s bargained the car rental down to 300RM. RM is Malaysian money and I’m not sure what the letters stand for or how to say it. I certainly don’t know the exchange rate to either RMB or USD. For all I know 300RM is $1000 or $1 RMB. So I ask the next logical questions “for a single day or the entire trip?” I find I often do this..asking the exact right question but no having a clue what I would do with the good answer. Yang said for the trip and I said “sounds good”. Next dilemma is that neither of us brought our Chinese driver’s license. For some reason we just keep that license in our car. I have, however, carried my expired California’s driver license…apparently just for these situations…where the airport car rental agency just wants to see a license, and the expiration date is not important or at least ignorable. As we sign the forms the agent is trying to explain that for any damage to the car, there is a 20% copayment. No attempt to up sell more insurance. He used a RM number as an example, a number which didn’t make sense until later. Yang asked if it was a “new car” and the agent blinked once and said it was a “good car” which is when I knew we probably didn’t get the best end of this deal. He smiled and gave us his number in case anything went wrong. I used an ATM to get some RM cash – the exchange rate turns out to be about 3.5 RM for every dollar so the car cost us about $20 a day. Not bad, I’m thinking. We get to the airport parking lot directly across from the terminal. The car rental agency shuttle consisted of a young Malaysian man standing beside and opened trunk of a car parked right in the middle of the aisle. At first I thought he was smiling at someone behind us – perhaps a relative arriving from out of town. But he was in fact smiling at us. And the smile seemed genuine vs. laughing at the woman pushing a five month old while sipping a venti java mocha frappuccino and the man pushing a luggage cart containing two insanely large pieces of luggage and two insanely hyper happy children. It would be forgiven if he thought we were moving to the island and not just visiting for a few days. The “good car” turned out to be a Proton Miva. It had electric windows that opened on the passenger side, an empty tank of gas, and air conditioning that worked if you drove fast. After our luggage somehow fit into the trunk, the attendant gave us his card and like the front desk man said to call him in case we have any problem with the car. While his tone was even more personable than the front desk person, this time it came across as both a warning and a threat. Like this car can and will break down. And if you call anyone else, they will never know you rented the car from us. They next day when heading into town I noticed the toolbox in the trunk had the usual assortment of tools. Plus brake pads and a plunger. A plunger? Oh, and they drive on the wrong side of the road in Malaysia. Buckle up kids! ...

Lydia told us she did not want to go to Harbin after it was announced Aidan was going with me. For a few days before the trip she was more fussy than her normal fussy four year old self. At times she was simply a terror, screaming and inconsolable for large chunks of time. I think Yang even gave her a good smack on the butt once. When Yang booked our family Chinese New Year trip to Malaysia Lydia steadfastly said she did not want to go. She wasn’t giving an inch. When Aidan and I arrived at our hotel in Harbin I walked to the registration desk and stood at the counter. There were two young woman behind the counter looking busy shuffling and counting receipts. I waited for one of them to look up. And waited. Zero eye contact. Other guests walked up right beside me, said in Chinese to one of the women, and checked out. Someone did the same thing over my left shoulder. Eventually, I spoke up and we got our room. They same exact thing happened on checkout. I stood right on top of the front desk, didn’t say anything, and didn’t get any attention. When I got home I talked to Yang about it describing it as “very china”. She explained that unless you say you need something there is no expectation that you do. At that point it kind of clicked in my head about why lines are so problematic here. Why people just walk up to the front of a line and ask for what they want. Another case is driving and interaction with pedestrians and bikers. Often it seems pedestrians have either a death wish or have just been startled awake from sleep walking. One case recently, I was driving about 40mph and a middle age man turned his bike directly in front of me and attempted to cross three lanes of traffic. He survived. In another case two days ago, I was going through an intersection when a young woman jolted herself to a walking stop. It was as if she had no concept a car might be coming. This pedestrian/car interaction is the subject of much Chinese/foreigner discussions in China. I’ve heard many theories on why it is so different here than in the states or anywhere else with indoor plumbing. The theory which is sticking with me is this. In China, people driving are expected to be looking out for those with lesser transportation capabilities (bike, feet, cart) and not hit them. To, in fact, take care of them. So its not like they are being rude when they walk in front of the car just as the light turns green – just the opposite – they are trusting you. A few weeks back…mid December I guess…Lydia decided to spend the night with Cui Ayi. Cui Ayi has been our Ayi since we moved to Beijing and is quite close to Lydia. Lydia packed her little backpack and off she went. Aidan was crushed. As Lydia left, he came out of their bedroom with a couple Lydia’s toys, holding back tears, asking what toy Lydia would have to play with. Lydia’s mood has turned for the better. Just yesterday she said to me, “Baba, I’m going to Harbin” and she grabbed her little backpack. I asked her to wait. She said she was going. She walked to our front door, opened it, stepped outside, stepped back inside, and said “I’m back from Harbin”. ...

Occasionally and increasingly infrequently people thinking of moving to China ask me what they should expect. I tell them the absence of expectations is the best way not to have missed expectations. Birthday cakes in Beijing are generally awful..these light tasting, over sugared, over fruited imitations for the real thing. What I want instead…what I expect…is something that tastes like the cake my Mom used to make for me. So what I did was go to Jenny Lous and buy Betty Crocker chocolate cake mix and chocolate frosting and made it myself. I baked in on the morning of my bday so that it would be nice and cool for the frosting. When I got back from my bday lunch with Yang (fabulous) I found Yang’s mom and eaten a good 10% rectangular chunk from the rectangular cake. Well, plenty of frosting then. The cake came out a bit dry. Dry as in take all the water out of your throat dry and cause you not to pee for three days. At least Yang’s mom liked it, she took most of the leftovers home to share with her Majong friends. My birthday was on a Sunday, which I expected to have off work but this being China Sunday was switched to a working day in order to extend the New Years holiday by a day. The following weekend Aidan and I travelled to Harbin home of the best winter ice festival in China. I have wanted to go for the past few winters but haven’t because Yang was a bit disinterested. Ok, she flat out did not want to go. The reasoning was something like…It’s 20F degrees in Beijing and you want to go to some place below zero. Have a nice trip. Anyway, I decided to just go this year and then Aidan got wind of it and tagged along. We took the overnight train up and checked into the a four star hotel. If one has never been to a 2nd tier city four star hotel then one might expect it to actually be four stars. Well, the lobby was. The room itself would round down to a two. But ok. Foreigners get a lot of attention in 2nd tier cities but the ice festival draws more than the occasional foreigner so most of the attention we got were from hawkers trying to sell us hats, scarves, and face covers. It was cold, but not bitter, bitter cold and we managed to enjoy an dog sled ride and a inner tube slide. ...

Yang got the call from Lydia’s teacher on Christmas Eve. She was yanking Lydia as the English MC. The English MC’s job entailed standing in front of the audience and saying “Good afternoon ladies! I am from the middle class. Happy Holidays and lets get on with the show!” It seemed Lydia had no inclination to learn these lines. She can sometimes get a little nervous when told to do something but is quite fine when allowed to find her own way. A bit like her father. And most grownups. So instead she performed in a couple of dance routines and I must say she was the best dancer. I must say. Actually, she was pretty good. Especially compared to the MC who replaced her. See for yourself..Lydia is leading the charge on stage proud of her new hairstyle (she rejected the first three). ...

Yang and I are in a mall in the Zhongguancun (中关村) neighborhood of Beijing. It’s where Yang grew up back when it was considered the boonies. Aidan calls and wants to make sure Santa knows what toy he wants. We get home after some less than successful shopping — my basic approach is to reject everything until i am so tired of shopping that i make the worst possible choice – and Aidan asks about his toy. Diligent, that one. Yang tells him she told Santa and Santa knows exactly what he wants. Then Aidan makes a connection better not made. He asks Yang if she knows the English name of the toy. No. Then how could Santa know since Santa only speaks English. Yang tells me at which point I tell Aidan that of course Santa speaks Chinese. ...

It is cold outside so we are cooped up inside without much to do. Aidan and Lydia have roller blades on and I am not sure whether I am more worried for their safety or our floor’s safety. Or maybe simply the safety of our toes since we don’t where shoes inside the house and Aidan and Lydia are not skating in a very assured way. I am on the computer playing with some new photo software when I notice a picture of Lydia taken at about the same age as Elisa is now. I show it to Lydia and ask who is it. She says “Elisa”. I say “No, Lydia”. Lydia holds her ground. It is definitely Elisa. You judge for yourself. ...

I’m home after a short trip to the states and feeling pretty jet lagged. Ready to collapse. In the middle of this fog my son stands in the middle of the living room and performs a Peking opera song. I am a bit perplexed. I figure I am hallucinating or this is what he learned at school. I wonder how much of his school time is was dedicated to it. I think the hallucination might be the better root cause. Then I smile, thinking it is better than the song he learned before I went off to the states. The song that ended with “down with the american imperialists” or some such thing. Peking Opera is this super high pitched singing which allowed the songs to travel down the small alley ways of Beijing. Two nights later Aidan performs more Peking Opera this time sans singing. Not a huge loss on that front. ...

We are driving north towards what I call the “mega spa”. I refer to it as the “mega spa” because I don’t know its actual name. Not in English or Chinese. It is slightly north of the 6th ring road and will take us about 30 minutes to drive there. Our new GPS is telling us that I need to take the off ramp 4K ahead. Then 2K. Then now. It is remarkably precise…or so it seems…being it talks in Chinese I can’t actually tell. Yang bought me the GPS for fathers day but since all the instructions were in Chinese it sat around on a counter until Yang had time to set it up. Yang has had other things on her mind and in her womb recently. ...

I head out on a run (or as I like to call it – accelerated walking) and realize it is about time from Aidan and Lydia to get out of school. It is the rare workday that I am home early and an even rarer Friday. I had been in training across town and decided to work from home when a repeated wrong number call woke me up from my cat nap. In any case, I decided to run to the school to see if I could catch Aidan and Lydia. I walked into the playground and wandered a bit when Aidan came running up holding his jump rope. The one with a pink tint which seems weird. He gave me a demo of his jump roping skills. I think he made 10 loops. ...

I am driving. Aidan, Lydia, Elisa, and the mother in law unit are in the back seat. Yang is in the passenger seat. There is some type of conversation going on about the weather. I haven’t showered and somehow have ended up wearing with a black polo sweat shirt with dark blue sweats. My hair is uncombed, my face not just unshaven but unevenly unshaven. It is just then that I think this is an all together different type of expat life that most folks sign up for. ...