The Irony

     Thursday afternoon we went to the ferry terminal in Hong Kong to meet 3 of Leah's friends who came over from Shenzhen to say good-bye.  While we were waiting, Leah reflected on the irony of being confined to the Hong Kong side of the border.  Many Chinese people want to go to Hong Kong, but they can't get a HK visa.  We were stuck in Hong Kong, for lack of a CH visa, which Chinese people would probably think was an enviable position.
     Madeline, Fiona and Sidney came through the arrivals door carrying a huge pink construction paper "yearbook", since Leah won't be there to pick up the official one.   They had passed this around in school for classmates and teachers to write messages to Leah.  On the way to the ferry they'd also stopped to pick up Leah one last piece of her favorite flatbread from a street vendor.  What nice friends!  These 4 girls fully expect to see each other in the not-too-distant future, either in Asia or the U.S.
      Right now we're in the Tokyo airport, absorbing radioactive this and that, I suppose.  Might as well add that to our adventures over the last 12 days.

Visas Denied, Headed Back to MN

     Last week while Leah had a break from school, we traveled to Vientiane, Laos.  We stopped in Hong Kong on our way back, where Leah and I applied for new visas to re-enter China.  Our applications were rejected.  The official reason was because of the overstay on our previous visas during February.  We had attached 10 pages of documentation to our application to help explain that our overstay was a simple misunderstanding during the process of getting a temporary residence permit;  that we had followed all the required procedures regarding the overstay at the Public Security Bureau (where the police had said that getting a new visa should not be a problem);   and that we'd paid the maximum fine.  But that didn't matter.  Terry showed the agent his own residence permit, proving that he--the member of the household employed in China--has already been thoroughly checked out.  That didn't matter, either.  The agent wouldn't even look at it.  Leah and I were told that we have to return to the U.S. and that we can re-apply for visas in 90 days.  Needless to say, we weren't expecting this.
     We have booked a flight back to Minneapolis on Friday.  While Leah and I are hunkered down here in Hong Kong, Terry has gone back to our apartment in Shenzhen, where he is packing up Leah's and my things.  (Curiously, he said there were new security procedures in place at our apartment complex since we left 10 days ago:  the front gate was locked and he had to present ID in order to get in.)  Later today Terry has a meeting at Leah's school to discuss how she can complete her coursework and graduate.  She may have to give up her International Baccalaureate Diploma, which would be a disappointment now that she's within 6 weeks of completing all the requirements she's been working to fulfill for the last 2 years.
     Several of Leah's friends from school have made plans to take the ferry here to Hong Kong this afternoon and meet up with Leah so that they can say good-bye.  After the initial shock passed, Leah has summoned a positive outlook.  "Things always work out," she says.
     Even though we're very frustrated and sad about this turn of events, the situation could certainly be worse.  We have a home to return to in Minneapolis, and Terry will be able to continue his work.
    
 

Disruptions

     We've been closely following the news about the catastrophic earthquake and tsunami in Japan 8 days ago.  Several people in the U.S. have emailed us to ask if we felt any effects.  We did not.  We live more than 1,500 miles from the epicenter of last Friday’s quake.  The closest connection we had was that a person from the Levi Strauss company, who toured a textile factory near Guangzhou last week with Terry, was in Tokyo Narita Airport during the earthquake.  He ended up being stuck at or near the airport for 3 ½ days before being able to go home to San Francisco—a major inconvenience, but inconsequential compared to the devastating losses experienced by the Japanese.

     A couple days ago I was subbing in a middle school art class, where the students’ assignment was to view PowerPoint files of photos from the disaster in Japan and the protests in the Middle East, and then to pick one of the images to draw in their sketchbook.  Most of the students focused on the Japanese photos.  But it took some of them a long time to settle into actually drawing, as they pondered the unimaginable destruction and hardship portrayed in the photos.

     The recent disruptions in our lives here in Shenzhen have been far less dramatic than those in Japan, and they have human rather than natural causes.  One source of disruption is the government’s concern about the possibility of unrest in other parts of the world affecting the Chinese citizenry.  We wondered if the 6 a.m.-6 p.m. power outage a couple Sundays ago could have been a government effort to slow down organizing activity. There also has been an increased police presence at times, particularly right after there was a crackdown on electric scooter use a two weeks ago.  Without warning, police were stopping scooters and impounding them, citing new government regulations.  The day Leah stopped riding and started walking to school, the police formed a barricade around her school in an attempt to catch the scooter-riders as they left at 4:00.   The “new regulations” were perhaps meant to slow down and intimidate mobile organizers, but they've also slowed down and intimidated a 17-year-old American high school student who's just trying to get to classes and home again.  Last week we discovered that all VPNs, Virtual Private Networks, were suddenly blocked.  Expats use VPNs to access internet information from certain sources, such as blogs and Facebook, that’s censored here in China.  It didn’t take Terry too long to find a way around this, but it did eat up a lot of time.  Today as he went about setting up this next level of beat-the-censor on my computer, he discovered that there was a new block around what had worked last Friday when he worked on his own computer.  4 hours later, he again found a way around it.  The Chinese censors know what we’re doing.  We don't think they're nearly so concerned about our benign and rather boring internet use as they are about Chinese activists accessing prohibited information.  It's frustrating to get caught up in this cat and mouse game. 

     This recent increased government wariness made Leah’s and my messy visa situation even more…uncomfortable, shall we say.  After 4 visits and a lot of time sitting around getting nervous in Public Security Bureau offices the last few weeks, I finally got our passports back Thursday.  Terry and I nearly made ourselves sick, worrying that there would be yet more complications.  But there in our passports were our 10-day temporary visas, just as we’d been promised.  When I thanked the officer who handed over our passports, he responded, “My pleasure.”  Yes, I’m sure.  Visa problems like ours mean job security for him.  We also enriched the Chinese treasury by $1,800, not counting the fees we’ll pay for our regular visas.  Which Terry intended to get for us yesterday while he was in Hong Kong.  But of course, there was indeed yet another complication.  It turns out that Leah and I need to actually go through Hong Kong immigration with our temporary visas before our new regular visas can be processed.  This will slightly disrupt some upcoming travel plans.  Are you tired of reading about our visa travails?  We’re tired of dealing with visas, that’s for sure. 

     One more disruption to daily life here is all the recent construction.  There’s a huge new Hilton complex going up along my route to school, which creates lots of lumbering truck traffic and lots of dust.  Some older, forlorn-looking buildings are getting facelifts.  Many sidewalks are torn up, sometimes to replace pipes underneath and sometimes to replace the walk itself.  There seems to be some new ordinance about walls, stipulating concrete bricks with a skim coat.  So the long stretches of blue metal walls around some hibernating apartment construction projects have been replaced.  There’s a new wall around a park near us.  And the gigantic wall around what looked like a city bus staging area was replaced and a lively sea-themed mural was painted on it.

      A crummy old wall was torn down right here earlier this winter, exposing an even crummier boat salvage area and dump, right next to the harbor.  A new wall with black iron bars was put up.  Less than 2 months later, I was surprised one day to see that the brand new wall had been torn down and was lying on the sidewalk.  Here they’re digging footings for what I’m guessing will be the regulation concrete brick wall. 

     The wall construction on this stretch goes on for about 3 blocks.  All kinds of things sprawl across the sidewalk while they're working:  parked vehicles like this truck, big piles of sand or rubble, stacks of bricks, cargo bikes loading up debris, skip loaders moving at a crawl.  So I should just ride on the other side of the street, right?  Well, I tried that one day.  The sidewalk there was completely torn up for several blocks.  

     In mid-August Shenzhen is hosting the 2011 Universiade games.  This upcoming event probably explains some of the recent construction activity, and also some of the government’s heightened concern about security, given the coming influx of international athletes, spectators and the media.

Visa Problems

     Tomorrow morning I have to show up at the Public Security Bureau in our district to sign my "punishment documents", as they were described over the phone to me, and pay a 10,000 RMB penalty.  That's a little over $1500.  My crime?  Actually, it's Leah's crime, too.  We overstayed our visas by a month.  It's our fault, no question, and we should have been paying closer attention.  We originally had visas that were good until this summer, but we more or less forgot that we surrendered them to get a different type of visa that we thought was necessary to get our temporary Chinese residence permit.
     The elusive residence permit.  This is the residence permit that Terry's been working on for about 8 months now.  We thought we'd have it by the end of January.  Actually, Terry got his on Feb. 1, but Leah and I are still waiting for ours.  If the two of us had gotten our permit at the expected time, it would have replaced the visas that have expired.  The reason that the residence permit has been held up is that the official copy of Terry's and my marriage certificate wasn't official enough.  Terry was told at the end of January that it need to be certified by the Minnesota Secretary of State.  Getting the certification would run $1200 or so, he was told, if initiated from here in China.  Fortunately, Terry was headed back to Minnesota in early February and could drive over to St. Paul and get the required certification for less than $10.  He did this and sent the paperwork to the Chinese Consulate in Chicago.  Two days before he was due to leave Minneapolis to fly back to China, he was told that he didn't have the correct seal from the Secretary of State's office.  So he made a second trip to St. Paul and that time was assured he had the real deal seal.  He sent the paperwork back to Chicago.  It was approved and eventually got sent back to China, at which point the expired visa problem was discovered.
     That was last week.  I had to go to the Public Security Bureau last Wednesday and sit on a most uncomfortable stool for 1 1/2 hours in the immigration office and answer questions posed by Constable Wei about my visa overstay.  Actually there weren't all that many questions.  Mostly I watched her type information from our passports on and on and on into her computer.  I had a book to read in my bag and thought several times about taking it out because I was bored.  Also I was feeling just a bit anxious about  the consequences of my visa screw-up.  It didn't help that I'd watched some of the other officers, who'd changed into what I assumed were their undercover cop street clothes, open up a cabinet and take out flashlights and handcuffs and a few other pieces of equipment that they stuffed in their shoulder bags on their way out the door.  No, reading a book would most definitely not be a good idea.  Much better to look properly worried and regretful about my transgression, especially since Officer Wei was rather ill-humored.  She looked and moved as if she'd stayed out too late the night before.
     Finally she had a document prepared.  She didn't know how to translate everything into English, so sometimes she just said, "Answer 'yes' here" or "Write 'no' here." Yikes.  I signed and dated many statements.  And then she brought out a red inkpad and had me affix my fingerprint in dozens and dozens of places on the document, in the four corners of copies of passport and visa pages, over signatures and dates and at the beginning and ending of statements.  These 50-some fingerprints didn't strike only me as being a little over the top--it even made the Chinese civilian watching nearby shake his head and smile.  When I was done, the officer kept our passports and told me she'd call me within two days to let me know the outcome of my interview, which turned out to be a 10,000 RBM fine.
     That seems like a steep fine, considering our situation.  It's not like we're sneaking around here, doing a bunch of illicit business deals.  But I've been told that everybody gets treated equally if you don't follow the visa rules.  If it's true, I'm glad that there's fair and strict enforcement.  The U.S. has strict visa rules, too.  In fact, as I understand current U.S. law, foreigners overstaying their visa in the U.S. have to return to their home country to re-apply for a new visa.   If we were in the U.S. under circumstances like ours, however, with documents showing that we're trying in earnest to follow the rules for getting the proper permit for temporarily working and living there, we would most likely not be penalized.

Ayi Shortage

     Recently I discovered that the school library gets a local English language newspaper, the Shenzhen Daily.  I've been stopping in regularly during my lunch break to see what the Daily can tell me about this place where we live.  Among other things, Friday's edition reported on testing for heavy metals in locally-sold Chinese rice and a crackdown on another illegal milk additive to boost the protein content, not melamine this time but a toxic by-product from leather processing.  I read that Shenzhen's 5-year recycling plan calls for the upscale hotels to stop providing disposable bottles of toiletries after 2015.  And I read that there's a shortage of an estimated 150,000 ayis in the city!

     An ayi (pronounced "eye-ee") is a housekeeper, who can also be a child minder.  Many, if not most, expat households have an ayi.  I have friends here from India and Pakistan who are used to having domestic help, so it's only natural that they'd engage help similarly here.  Westerners who probably wouldn't have household help at home are delighted to find that it's very affordable here.   Leah's friends' families all have ayis.  A teacher who has a toddler told me that one of the reasons she and her husband like working here is that they'd never be able to afford their lifestyle if they lived and worked as a teacher couple in the U.S.  By "lifestyle" I think she mostly was referring to having an ayi to nanny their child and to also clean their apartment, do some cooking, take care of the laundry and run errands.  Another factor in hiring an ayi is that there's a little more of certain kinds of tedious work to maintaining a household here.  For one thing, there are a lot more particulates in the air and surfaces get dirty much faster than at home.  Floors, tables and chairs, the balconies, everything seems to collect a fine coat of dust, sometimes in a single afternoon.  So some extra time is needed just to keep ahead of the dust.

     The newspaper article reported that the average starting salary for full-time ayis is now up to 2000 yuan/month, which is about $300, and experienced ayis' average pay is 2300-2500/month.  Ayis who speak English and who have more demanding duties can earn up to 4500/month (close to $700).  Ayis usually work 10-hour days, Monday through Friday, though this can vary.

     Many ayis went home for Chinese New Year.  A number of those who went home chose not to return to Shenzhen after the holiday, which explains a good part of the shortage. These women have been able to find work in their home cities that pays nearly as well, and now they can be with their children.  When young parents migrate to cities like Shenzhen to find work, they usually leave behind their children to be cared for by grandparents or other relatives in their home city.

     A couple weeks ago I had afternoon tea with my Indian and Pakistani friends.  One of the topics of conversation was how stressed they felt having their ayis gone for a week or two over Chinese New Year and how eager they were for their ayis to return to work.  One of them said that since her family was gone to New Zealand for a couple weeks over the Christmas break and her ayi had most of that time off, she felt it was excessive for the ayi to take off another chunk of time.  But she didn't dare tell her ayi that she couldn't take 2 weeks off for Chinese New Year, because my friend knew that the ayi's husband would still insist on going home for the whole 15 days of the new year celebration.  He'd just tell his wife to quit her job and then find a new job after the holiday.
     After hearing these women talk about how inconvenienced they were without their ayis,  I confess to having felt a little smug about not having to deal with that dependence.  For a variety of reasons, Terry and I do not have an ayi. 

     

Friday After 5

I guess I must have had a good week at school.  Even at 5:00 on Friday afternoon, after 5 days full of kids, I wasn't so tired of them that I could ignore some cute ones playing on the sidewalk.   I couldn't resist stopping to watch this threesome.  Each had reached through a hole in this blue metal wall and picked two long stems of grass, one for each hand--they looked like peacock feathers from a distance.  They were chasing around trying to tickle each other, they were dipping the feathery end in a puddle and doing some very satisfying splattering, and the two boys were using them as weapons for a growling kung fu battle.  No translation necessary for their imaginative play!
     This was taken just a few minutes from our apartment complex, along a 2-block stretch that some might call rundown.        But the action here is way more interesting than in the spiffier areas.
    
     That's the only photo for today, so now you'll have to use your imagination.  Right after school today, I met Leah at the shop where she bought her scooter only a couple weeks ago.  She's been plagued by battery charger problems for a few days, and this was her 3rd trip back to the shop in 3 days.  The first day she thought there was something wrong with the charger, so she took  it back and got a replacement.  That didn't work, so the next day she got yet another charger, which did seem to work.  Great, we thought the problem was solved.  But this morning she discovered that someone seemed to have stolen her new charger from the bike/scooter parking area under our building and had left a bum charger in its place.  So today we had get a new charger, this time paying for it because it wasn't the shop's problem.  That's why I showed up:  Leah didn't leave home this morning with enough cash for this.  Now tonight it appeared that this 3rd replacement charger wasn't working, either, but when she wheeled over to the parking area under the next building, it did work.  So we seem to have a power supply problem, as well as a security problem, and possibly a quality control problem, too.  I'm afraid that my enthusiasm for scooter transport is fading.  Give me my low tech bike any day.
     On my way into our apartment building tonight, I saw that the red garland-y Christmas/New Year's tree that's been up in the middle of the plaza since early December was in the last stages of being taken down and packed away.  Yesterday was the 15th day of Chinese New Year, the very last day.  The Lantern Festival is a traditional celebration on the last day.  Karen, the young Chinese teacher who shared a work area at school with me this week, said that the Lantern Festival isn't celebrated very much anymore.  But when she was a young girl growing up in a small city several hours away from here, families would go to a nearby park on the Lantern Festival night.  In the park hanging next to each lantern was a riddle, for example, asking the meaning of a written Chinese character.  If a child answered the riddle correctly, s/he was given the lantern to keep.  There would be food for sale in the park, such as round dumplings with a "smashed" bean filling, as she called it.  The Lantern Festival is always on the night of a full moon, and the roundness of the moon as well as the round shape of dumplings and other foods symbolizes family continuity and togetherness.  Karen also said that the weather in southern China changes around the time of the new year, as spring begins--that's why Chinese New Year is also called Spring Festival.  Sure enough, the weather did change about a week ago.  There's more humidity in the air,  it's been cloudy for a week straight, and we've had several days with light rain, after nearly 4 months of very little precipitation.  I'm remembering that last fall a Chinese person told me that February was her least favorite month because it's so gloomy.  Now I understand.
     I have one last Chinese New Year anecdote.  Tonight about 10 I was walking home by way of the waterfront here on the apartment complex grounds.  Suddenly fireworks began shooting up in the air, exploding away in colorful showers.  I hadn't ever been so close to the actual staging of all these fireworks that we've been watching from  our apartment window for the last few weeks and was curious to see how this all worked.  There were a few dozen ordinary people standing around and a handful who seemed to be managing the display.
     After a couple of minutes, a very agitated Anglo man appeared on the scene, waving his arms, and repeating a couple phrases in Chinese, which I took to mean something like "Chinese New Year is done!"   Then he proceeded to rant in English:  "You need to pack up and leave now!  GO!  Chinese New Year is over!  I'm sick of this noise--this has been going on for 2 weeks and my family can't sleep--I haven't said anything until now, but last night was the end, the LAST night of Chinese New Year, so now I'm telling you that this is it, you are DONE!   You don't live here, but I do!  Go home!  Take this stuff and leave now or I'm going to call the police!"  Then he hurled an obscenity or two.  But it didn't appear that any of the Chinese people standing around understood at all what he was saying.  Which made him even angrier.  He picked up one of the big boxes of unexploded fireworks, walked over to the fence at the water, and threw the whole thing in the bay.  Then he strode back.  "OK, what next?  Do you hear me?  You need to leave!  NOW!"  Everyone was still standing there, absolutely quiet.  They probably thought this guy was deranged:  it's Chinese New Year, after all--fireworks are how Chinese people celebrate--it's traditional--how can a normal person not understand that?
     At this point I walked away.  This was too ugly a scene for me.  If this guy had an apartment right there facing the water, I can see how he'd be tired of the noise, which really is awfully loud.  But this was a ridiculously ineffective way to get what he wanted, not to mention extremely patronizing.  This was not a group of hoodlums and they themselves weren't raucous.  I don't know how he could assume that none of them lived here in these apartments.
     I was glad that, judging from this man's accent, he was most likely not an American.  But still, this little scenario didn't do much to promote international relations between westerners and Chinese.

1.3 Billion in the U.S.

     James Fallows recently blogged about what the U.S. would be like with a population the size of China's.  First, about geographic size:  the U.S. has about the same land area as China, although China has less arable land.  Next, Fallows used strategic planner Thomas Barnett's image:  if you took the population of the entire American Hemisphere--that's Canada, down through the U.S., Mexico, Central America and South America--and also added in the people living in Japan and Nigeria, that would be about 1.3 billion, slightly fewer than China's current population.  Imagine all of these additional people coming to live with us in the U.S. and sharing our space with them.  That's over 4 times as many people as currently live in our country.  Growing enough food for everyone would be a significant challenge.  There would be many more challenges, trying to take care of 1.3 billion people:  providing clean water, decent housing, electricity, transportation and communication systems--not to mention education, jobs, healthcare, and services for the poor and vulnerable, and on and on.  And we think we're stretched now, taking care of a mere 300 million people in the U.S.!
     Barnett's point was that these imagined challenges for the U.S. are what China is currently dealing with.       Although China has come far in the last 30 years, many people here still live in poverty, without basics that we take for granted in the U.S.   Providing for all 1.3 billion Chinese people will be an incredible challenge.  On the other hand, China's huge workforce wields tremendous power and potential.
  

Happy Chinese New Year

Or in Mandarin that's "xin nian kuai le", approximately pronounced "shin knee-an coo-eye luh" with some up and down tones that I'm skipping right over.  I used an online audio tool to practice this greeting, and then went for a walk this afternoon to practice on real Chinese people, which was way more fun!  The first person I met was Chen Lijuan, the concierge in our apartment building, pictured at left.  I am quite fond of her--she's warm, gracious and earnestly helpful.   "Xin nian kuai le," I said, and she rewarded me with a big smile, the same greeting returned, and a little additional help with my pronunciation.  Lijuan told me a few weeks ago that she wasn't going home for the holiday, but would instead stay here and work (earning overtime pay) and celebrate with friends.  She lives in a northern province where it's cold, and it's a long, expensive trip to get there.  Yesterday when Leah and I were walking through the lobby, Lijuan presented  us with a heart-shaped box of gold foil-wrapped chocolates.  We were surprised and touched by her gesture.  I think she wanted to reciprocate because a few days ago I'd given her a red envelope with some money for a New Year's present.  Later, I wondered if I'd forgotten my manners and rudely accepted her gift with only one hand.  It's considered polite to hand something to someone, especially a gift, with both hands, and to receive it with both hands, as well.

The weather was very pleasant today, sunny and in the high 60's this afternoon.  Lijuan told me that good weather on New Year's Day is an auspicious beginning for the year!  I took this photo about 5 p.m. on the grounds of our apartment complex.  Families were strolling on the promenade on Shenzhen Bay; the Hong Kong New Territory mountains are just barely visible across the water.  The family on the lower left was picnicking and playing cards.  The older man in this group who's kneeling is peeling a pomelo, which is like a huge delicious grapefruit, but less juicy and less tangy.

Orange trees are a special New Year's decoration, seen all over in front of business places and found in homes, too.  The trees come in all sizes.  The one in the center of this display is the largest I've seen.  The small clementine-type oranges are edible, as I understand it.  We've wondered why people don't help themselves to the oranges on these trees.  In this case there's a security guard by the gate, seen to the immediate right of the tree, who would doubtless discourage picking these oranges.  This display is in front of the Coastal Rose apartment complex, popular with expats in our neighborhood and similar to The Peninsula where we live.

Many people wear red, a least a touch of it, on New Year's Day since this color is associated with good fortune.  You maybe noticed the red sprinkled around  in the crowd picture above, and these 3 are all wearing at least a bit of red, too. This couple saw me with my camera while I was out walking this afternoon and seemed to assume that I most certainly would want to take a picture of their precious grandchild.  That happens often here when people are out with their young children.  The Chinese people I've observed seem to adore their children.

After I took their picture, I thanked them, "xie xie", and of course said, "xin nian kuai le."  They smiled and wished me the same.

Even the shrubs have dropped red petals along the sidewalk to dress it up for New Year's!  Well, no, actually the red stuff sprinkled on the ground is all fresh debris from fireworks that most likely were set off last night.

Fireworks are a very important part of Chinese New Year.  They're supposed to drive away evil spirits.  I took this photo out on our balcony earlier tonight.   There have been spurts of fireworks going off just a block away down by the lighthouse on the bay from around 7 p.m. until after midnight, both last night on New Year's Eve and tonight.  I generally don't get too excited about fireworks at home, mostly because I guess I find it a little boring to just sit on a blanket, swat mosquitoes and watch the sky for a half-hour show on the 4th of July.  But here we have a fantastic view of the fireworks out our apartment windows.  So I can sit at my desk, which is right in front of a huge window, and enjoy them while I'm working at my computer.  They last for 10-20 seconds, there's a pause for a few minutes, then there's another burst...the evil spirits should be well-dispersed by the end of the night.

She's Got Wheels

Here's Leah with the electric scooter she got a couple days ago.  She took along a couple of experienced friends to help make the purchase, and now she's joined the multitudes of scooter-riders in our city, both Chinese and expats.  Drivers here seem much more used to sharing the road with two-wheeled riders than back home.
     Top speed for this scooter is...well, I'm not sure at the moment, but it's modest.  Leah says it's quite unsatisfactory for some young males, who'd rather have a gas-powered version that can go lots faster.  You don't see many of those around, though, because they're illegal in our city.  That keeps the air a little cleaner.
     Of course a bike would be an even greener choice than an electric scooter.  I find a bike is more than sufficient to get around, although people say when it turns hot and humid again in a few months, I may not think so.  I was all set to buy a bike for Leah this week.  But she wasn't interested.  I suppose the biggest problem with a bike right now is that it's a Mom thing.  And like many 17 year olds, Leah is trying hard to be Not Mom.  How nice that she's normal!
     One advantage of scooters over bikes is that they're more social--lots of opportunity for ride-sharing--so that aspect is a big draw for teenagers.  Last night a bunch of Leah's friends got together for Taco Tuesday at a local restaurant.  (Even here, Uncle Tom!)  3 kids fit on that scooter seat when it was time to go home.
     Scooters are relatively inexpensive here.  We won't be paying any more taxi fare to go to and from school this year, and that savings alone just about covers the cost of the new wheels.
     The school taxi situation had gotten a bit aggravating.  Finding one to come home after school has gotten more and more challenging, but at least in the mornings Leah was supposed to have a regular taxi driver to get to school.  However, the regular driver has changed a number of times, sometimes there were substitute drivers who showed up without warning, a few times no one has shown up, and it was a pain to get them to issue a receipt.  All of this is complicated when they don't speak English and Leah speaks very little Chinese.  Last week I was quite irritated to discover that the substitute driver during the first week in January had kept the fee Leah had prepaid for the entire month.  Our expat liaison had no idea who this mystery driver was, and she was unwilling to make an effort to find out.  So I paid a second time.  It will be a relief that Leah won't have to rely anymore on taxis to go back and forth to school.
  

Health Check

     Last week I had a health check, which is needed for the temporary residence permit we hope to get soon.  Terry has already had this exam (twice--see my last blog), and Leah doesn't have to get one because she's under 18.  Both Terry and I were accompanied to a local hospital for our exams by Amy, a young Chinese woman with excellent English, who is employed by the local company that's managing Terry's current Environmental Defense Fund employment contract.  Amy's sole job is to accompany foreigners for required Public Security Bureau interviews and health checks to get a residence permit.   

     The first step at  Kou An Hospital was to sit in a large waiting room with about 40 other people getting the health check, and fill out a data sheet and a health history.  I waited my turn to present this paperwork with my passport and 3 visa photos, to have yet another photo taken and finally to have a digital fingerprint taken.  After that, we stepped up to the pay window and I handed over 680 RMB (just over $100), which was the slightly higher VIP rate.  This enabled me to step to the front of the lines at the various stations and get the whole thing over with as fast as possible.  Normally VIP-anything kind of bothers me, but I wanted to get out of there ASAP.  Not only have clinics never been my favorite place to hang out, but moving fast was also respectful of Amy's time.  She said she was extremely busy because everybody seemed to want to get things done before the New Year holiday this week.

     For the next 45 minutes Amy shepherded me to various rooms along the hallway off from the waiting room. A nurse in a crisp pink cap and uniform appeared now and again to look at my paperwork and direct us to another room.  I had 4 vials of blood drawn, an ecg, an ultrasound, a chest x-ray, a blood pressure check and even a vision test.  The last stop was at the restroom for a urine sample.   In all, I think I dropped into 6 rooms.  There were a few people in line outside each room.  No doors were closed except for the x-ray and in the restroom, although there was a curtain  drawn halfway across the room for the ecg and ultrasound.  All the hospital personnel seemed skilled and fairly pleasant, and most spoke some English.  The efficient assembly line approach made a lot of sense for this health check process and helped make the cost reasonable.  To have all of these services done at a U.S. clinic would have cost much more.  Only a couple things made me slightly uneasy.  X-ray machines always do.  Also, at home I'm used to having the covering on exam tables and pillows changed and the surfaces disinfected, after each patient leaves the exam room; this didn't happen, although nothing seemed especially unsanitary.  And then there was the squat toilet in the restroom:  familiar, but with unpleasant associations from past travel experiences.  

     To my understanding, the health check is mainly to screen for TB, HIV and mental instability, all of which would make a person's presence in China undesirable.  I'm not sure exactly how they check for mental instability, although maybe the process itself is the test:  waiting around in a rather narrow hallway with dozens of other people for your turn to get poked, prodded and zapped would tend to reveal problematic behaviors.

     I was the only non-Asian person going through the health check that afternoon.  When I asked Amy why all the other people, most of whom looked Chinese, had to go through the check, she said that many of them were probably from Hong Kong and had jobs that required them to sometimes cross the border and work in China--drivers, for example.  That would help explain the vision test.

     

We were supposed to be in Laos this week...

...during Chinese New Year, taking advantage of Leah's week long school break to travel.  Why Laos, when there are so many interesting destinations here in China?  Big crowds and expensive tickets, that's why.  New Year's week is the worst time all year for foreigners to attempt any in-country trips, given the hundreds of millions of Chinese people who are traveling to their home cities and villages to celebrate the holiday with their extended families.  So our plan had been to leave China and go to Vientiane and Louangphrabang in Laos.
     However, Terry found out about 10 days ago that he wouldn't have his passport back until about Feb. 1.  He had to surrender it for routine scrutiny after his second interview at the Public Security Bureau earlier this month.  This interview was approximately step #700 in the l-o-n -g and time-consuming process of getting a temporary residence permit for our family, a process that he initiated last summer.  This process is taking so long, in fact, that the health certification he got last summer had reached its 6-month expiration.  So a couple weeks ago he had to go to a local hospital and get a health check all over again.  Terry had thought that this would be the last unpleasant surprise in the permit process.  But no.  A few days ago he was told that the notarized copies of our marriage certificate and Leah's birth certificate would not suffice; they need to be "authenticated".  If handled from here, authentication would cost over 7000 RMB, which is over $1000.  Gulp.  Fortunately Terry is going back to the U.S. soon and can authenticate there for considerably less.
     Most foreigners who work here don't bother to get a temporary residence permit. It's not strictly necessary.  But if for some reason the Chinese government should get nervous about foreigners being here, visas could be canceled and we would have to leave China, which would be problematic since Terry's work is China-based right now.  There was a crackdown only a few years ago.  All business visas were canceled here 6 months before the 2008 Olympics.  Only single entry visas were allowed and many applications for these were denied.  A temporary residence permit replaces a visa and makes it much less likely that the holder would have problems traveling in and out of China, even if there are visa crackdowns.  We hope!
     Frustrating and drawn-out as this process of getting a residence permit is, it's understandable that China wants to control who comes into this country to work and do business.  It's said that China is second only to the U.S. in terms of stringent requirements for living and working in their country.  And it takes a lot longer for a foreigner to jump through the work and residency hoops in the U.S. than it takes here.
 

"Hey, kids, why don't you go outside and play for awhile?"

     Moms used to say this back when I was a kid, when they needed a little peace and space.  Today we put a little present-day spin on it:  the parents decided to go outside and wander around for a few hours, so their kid could have some space and peace here to watch a movie with a few friends late this afternoon.  We have only one room in our apartment where it's comfortable to hang out, and that room feels a little crowded even with just the 3 of us sometimes.
     While we were out wandering, I wanted to continue my quest for a bungee strap to replace the nice one that Terry had brought back from the U.S. for me last fall.  I used it for attaching parcels to the rack on my bike.  Somehow I lost this strap a few weeks ago when I was riding in the rain.  I had it in a bag in my bike basket, shoved in next to my school bag.  It must have bounced out, unseen under my rain poncho.  Today I saw some 2-meter long straps at hardware shops, but they weren't very stretchy and had homemade, savage-looking hooks.  Bungee cords have been around home for 30 years or so and seem like such a universal item.  They're almost surely manufactured in this country.  You'd think it would be an easy item to find.  But it's not.  It goes this way with countless made-in-China items we're used to seeing in the U.S. that you'd think would be readily and cheaply available here.  They're not.
     Our main destination today was a eyeglasses shop that was recommended in our city guidebook.  Terry has been needing an updated prescription for the glasses he uses when using his computer.  We found the shop without any trouble.  It was sleek, spacious and had some swanky displays of designer frames which weren't knock-offs, judging from the prices.  Terry was immediately helped by an English-speaking optician.  Within 15 minutes he'd placed his order.  He handed over his black "forms", as the optician called them, and was told that he can come back tomorrow night at 8 to pick them up with the new lens.  He paid about the same amount that he'd pay in the U.S.  But in the U.S. he wouldn't be able to walk into a shop at 5 on a Saturday afternoon to get fitted and then pick up his glasses on Sunday night at 8.  Shops and services here, even professional services such as dental and medical, are usually open 7 days a week, well into the evening.  They're eager to do business.

Then we wandered down a little side street, literally to see what's cookin'.  The street vendors were attracting hungry passers-by and we were curious to see what was for sale.  There were meats on a stick, flat breads, roasted nuts and roasted sweet potatoes.  And then there were sweet little faces.  I nonverbally asked permission from the mom on the left if I could take a picture of her little girl.  Grandmom to the right was insistent about unbundling the little boy from his stroller so I could take a picture of him, too.  It was in the high 50's this afternoon, a somewhat chilly day here, so parents had their little ones very warmly dressed.

A few steps away was this cheery vendor, who was making thin, pancake-like flatbreads with pickled vegetables, egg, chili peppers, a few tiny dried fish and a few other toppings I can't remember, cut in two and rolled up, ready to eat.  I pointed to my camera and "asked" to take her picture.  She was thrilled.  So thrilled, in fact, that she insisted on rolling up the bread on her griddle and giving it to us, gratis.  I had taken out my wallet to pay, but she smiled and waved me away.  It was delicious! We'll go back.
Check out her portable eatery. All her equipment fits into the box on her cargo bike.

Next we paused by this display of roasted sunflower nuts, peanuts, chestnuts and walnuts.  The girl on the left pleasantly said hello to me and asked me if I knew Chinese.  No, I said, do you speak English?  Yes, I'm a student, she said.  I found out she's 17 and her sister in the purple sweater is 15.  The sister was stirring the sunflower nuts roasting over the charcoal fire in the bucket.  The elder sister asked if we wanted to buy something.  We got 300 g. of freshly roasted peanuts for 5 RMB, or about $.75.  I liked these girls.  They were showing initiative without being obnoxious.  The peanuts we brought home were good, too.

Kids Making Their Own Decisions

     "People should be allowed to make decisions for themselves, even if they are bad decisions" was the agree/disagree writing topic in the 8th-grade humanities class where I subbed yesterday.  These students were studying forms of government and also reading Lois Lowry's The Giver, a dystopian novel which my daughters also were assigned to read in middle school.  The book describes a healthy, peaceful, smooth-functioning society.  The problem is that it's attained through strict rules about behavior and through the sacrifice of personal freedoms for the good of the community.
     I scanned the essays that the students handed in.  The most eloquent writer didn't mention forms of government at all, but instead focused on personal freedom, which is of great relevance to most 8th graders in the U.S.  This student said that freedom to decide depended on the age of the person:  teenagers basically aren't capable of making responsible decisions, so their parents need to make them.  This is not a response that I'd expect from a typical American 14 year old.  But the writer isn't American, she's from South Korea.
     About the student body at this American international school:  there are actually very few American kids at this school.  15 years ago there were, but at present, over half the student body is from South Korea.  The next largest group is from Hong Kong.  As I understand it, kids from the People's Republic of China are not allowed to attend an international school after they turn 7 or 8 years old; Chinese kids at the school have to have a passport issued outside the PRC, often Hong Kong.  (Easy to see why the PRC doesn't want Chinese kids attending the school, just looking at a couple of the topics in this particular class this week:  "How much should the government be able to control your individual rights for the benefit of society?" and "What makes an ideal society?")
     The parents-should-decide student essay brought to mind a Wall Street Journal essay that Terry forwarded to me last week, "Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior".  It's excerpted from Amy Chua's newly-published book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.  Chua is a Chinese-American law professor at Yale, who seems to want to sell lots of her books, given the provocative nature and timing of her essay.
     In this essay, Chua boldly uses cultural stereotypes.  She describes her own strict "Chinese-style" parenting of her 2 daughters, now nearly grown-up:  no TV or video games, no playdates or sleepovers; she demanded not just A's but top place in every academic subject, she chose all of their extracurricular activities,  and she chose the piano and violin for them and closely supervised several hours of daily practice.  She says that a skill or academic pursuit only becomes fun when you're really good at it, and the only way to become good is through endless practice and rote repetition.  Kids don't naturally want to work hard, so it's a parent's job to make them.
     Chua says American parents are far too concerned about their kids' self-esteem, whereas Chinese parents assume that they know what's best for their kids and that their kids are capable and resilient, so they can use words and methods to make them work hard that would strike many American parents as being abusive.  Chinese parents are willing to sacrifice mightily to make their kids grow up to be successful, and kids then owe a debt of gratitude to their parents, paid back by showing lifelong obedience and respect.
     Chua's essay has drawn lots of commentary, both affirmative and critical.  (I just looked at today's Minneapolis Star Tribune online and noticed two op-ed pieces about it.)   As for me, I think she leaves Western parents with some good food for thought.   However, this matter of closely controlling others' behavior seems to conflict with my own northern European, Protestant heritage:  independent-minded ancestors who left families and familiar ways behind in Sweden and Germany for new opportunities in the U.S. in the 19th century;  independent-minded Protestants who didn't want to be told what to do by the Catholic hierarchy.  I would not be comfortable parenting in the controlling way she describes. Although authoritarian parenting may be an appropriate way to prepare people to live in certain environments, I don't think that it would adequately prepare most children to live satisfying lives as productive, responsible citizens of the present-day U.S., where we live with freedoms and choices that are unimaginable in many parts of the world.  How exactly does a person learn to make good decisions without practicing?
    

  
  

Getting Ready for Chinese New Year

     Chinese New Year, also called Spring Festival, is by far the most important of all holidays to Chinese people.  Just like everyone else in China, we're getting swept along in holiday preparations.
     Of course we need to decorate for the holiday.  Our very first Chinese New Year decoration, the "good fortune" display on the pedestal pictured at left, was a thank-you gift to me from Andrew Liu, the student leader of the Saturday morning Green Shoots English classes.  Printed on the back of the decoration is this translation:  In A.D. 1673, "ask the good fortune to continue the longevity" for the Queen Mother Zhuang of grandmother's filial piety, write down and shake "macrobiotic good fortune" that glitters at all times, good fortune this imply "many son, many just, many field, many longevity, many good fortune"...  That's about a third of it, copied exactly from the original.  Happiness, good health, longevity, and prosperity are common themes for the holiday.
     I was all set to go back to Green Shoots on January 8, but Andrew emailed that classes would not start up again until mid-February because of the New Year holiday.  At first I thought that seemed like an unreasonably long break.  However, this is comparable to the 6+ weeks in the U.S. between mid-November and early January, when many American people set aside optional activities because they're preoccupied with Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's.
     Besides the above "good fortune" display, our other Chinese New Year decorations consist of 4 small red paper lanterns that I bought last week.  (And that's it.  I'm a minimalist when it comes to holiday decorations.)  I intend to hang the lanterns from the 4 large screw heads in a rectangular light fixture in the living room, but I have to figure out how to get them up there, 9' or so off the floor.  We don't own a step ladder or step stool.  I suppose I could use my laundry hook on a pole that I use to put hangers on our 9' laundry rod outside on the balcony ceiling.  As I write this, I realize that I need to buy at least one more lantern, or else give away at least one:  4 is considered a very unlucky number because the Chinese word for 4 sounds very similar to the word for death.  A quartet of lantern decorations simply will not do in China!
     On the lower left in the photo you see the ubiquitous red envelopes--the color red being associated with good fortune--which are used to gift money on special occasions and for Chinese New Year.  I was first introduced to the red envelope in 1990, when Colin and Phyllis Fong gave one to Emily in honor of her birth, "a Chinese tradition", Colin said at the time.  Who would have thought that 21 years later I, too, would participate in this tradition--in China?
     There are rules for the red envelopes, called Hong Bao in Mandarin.  Terry and I are reading up and asking around so that we can hopefully avoid offensive lapses.  One important consideration is to check out the message on the envelope to be sure that it's appropriate for the recipient.  Please let me know if you can read the message on this envelope and it's the wrong message for the recipients described below!  Red envelopes are given during Chinese New Year to younger family members and often to employees as a year-end bonus.  A month's wages are a typical gift to an employee.  A single crisp new bill is best, it shouldn't be folded, and even denominations are considered auspicious, although any number with 4 should be avoided, as you already know.
     We employ only person that I can think of:  Leah's morning driver to school.  Unfortunately, there's a new driver, as of this past week, which complicates the situation.  Other people we probably should red envelope (the Chinese language equivalent to using this as a verb is more graceful, I'm sure) include Chen, the helpful and friendly concierge at the desk in our apartment building; the nice young man who regularly delivers our big 18.9-liter water bottles--his jovial "long time, no see" made me smile a few days ago, considering his limited English; and Connie Liu at the Dial-an-Angel re-location agency, who is our translator/liaison when we need a water delivery, need to communicate with Leah's morning driver,  have a question for our landlord, and so on. Red enveloping is supposed to bring blessings to the receiver, as well as to the giver.  This is a tradition that encourages generosity!
     Now back up to the photo.  On the lower left you'll see a pair of orange 3M foam earplugs, which seem oddly placed with the other holiday items.  Here's the story.  Last week I asked my friend Yan about her plans for Chinese New Year.  She and her sister, who also works in Shenzhen, have train tickets to travel to their home in the city of Shangrao on January 25, a trip that will take a whole day.  Much as she's looking forward to going home, she said that she is dreading the actual New Year's holiday because the neighbors' fireworks, blaring television and boisterous voices will go on all day and all night, which makes it impossible to sleep.  She asked me if I knew where to get something to cover her ears to keep out the noise.  I assured her that I could.  Terry has kept lots of foam earplugs around home for years, first purchased for visiting noisy industrial facilities and later found to be oh-so-useful at home to block out noise from teenagers who often like to stay up considerably later than their parents.  I told Yan that I didn't think I could get them in time for Chinese New Year this year, but that Terry could bring some back after his next trip to the U.S.  However, yesterday when I was moving some things around on a shelf I found this package.  I'll give these to Yan to pack in her bag for the trip home.  Hopefully they'll help her welcome the Year of the Rabbit feeling well-rested and appropriately calm.
     3M could probably do bang-up foam earplug business here, marketing this nifty low-tech ear gear to Chinese people who don't care to listen to full-volume New Year's fireworks all night long!

Holiday Mashup

This red tree went up in the plaza at our apartment complex around December 1st, along with the strings of red lanterns strung between the palm trees.  By the time we returned to China on December 31, a silver "Happy New Year" banner had been added to the decorative tree.  The banner is still there on the tree and now refers to the Chinese New Year coming up in a few weeks.
 

I took this photo of the banners outside the Decathlon sports store on Friday afternoon.  The red and white colors, as well as the snowflakes and star designs, make these look Christmasy.  But this decoration is a mashup, too:  notice the girl bunny dancing on the mushroom umbrellas on the right.  The Chinese New Year, the Year of the Rabbit, begins on February 3.  When I took the photo, a gardener was going down the line of flowering plants and tying the pink ribbons around them.  The calming pink color is perhaps significant:  the rabbit is supposed to usher in a quieter period, on the heels of 2010's Year of the Tiger.

It's Cold Inside

     Leah got a mite chilly in gym class on the first day back at school this week.  She forgot that the weather had turned colder here since her 3-week break and had packed shorts with her gym gear.  The next day she came home and reported that her teachers were wearing their winter coats in class and that she'd taken all her notes in English class that day wearing mittens.  At the end of the week she told about a substitute teacher who couldn't make the assigned DVD work, so she decided to have students lie on the floor, relax and practice Indian meditation instead.  Leah thought this was quite ridiculous on several counts, but mostly because it was impossible to relax while lying on what felt like a slab of ice.
     The classroom where I was subbing this week was on the building's 4th floor, far away from the wide open (why?) front doors.  I managed to stay fairly comfortable dressed in several layers, without my coat.  It also helped that the room was fairly small and that I had a succession of wiggly middle-schoolers all day long generating heat.  One day after I'd finished monitoring duty in the nippy 1st floor lunchroom, I must have looked a little chilled because the teacher who'd gotten on the elevator with me handed me his tea thermos and said, "Here, it looks like you need this more than I do!" and let me hold it to warm my hands during the ride up.  The biggest challenge was staying dry during my 20-minute ride in the drizzle a couple mornings this week.  This fall I bought a nifty bright yellow rain poncho that's made for biking.  It's cut long in the front and has a little clothespin at the lowest point that I can clip on the front of the basket, so my hands and even my bag in the basket can stay mostly dry.  The hood doesn't stay up very well, though, and my feet and legs get a little wet.
     It's great to come home to our apartment, where our main room stays warm with the help of a portable heater.  The office, bedrooms and bathrooms are chilly, but if we need to, we can always move the heater back into these areas.  My computer sits on a polished stone-like surface in the office, which radiates a chill--not conducive to sitting down to write.  This morning there's some feeble sunshine emerging from the light gray haze of clouds and we've opened wide all the drapes to coax in a little warmth from it.
     After reflecting on the "winter" weather this week, I decided to check on the actual temps in neighboring Hong Kong the last few days:  highs close to 60 and lows about 50.  REALLY??  Either we're turning into real wimps or it's colder here than it is in Hong Kong.
     We are very spoiled with central heating in the U.S.  We take for granted that we can turn up the heat to whatever temperature makes us comfortable in our homes, offices and schools.  Not so in China.  Terry tells about elderly people in parts of northern China staying in bed all day long for months at a time during the winter so that they can stay warm; they sleep on a raised stone platform which is heated by burning cornstalks.  No wonder Spring Festival is such a big deal here!
  

Love those Piggies

     We generally don't have much regard for pigs in the U.S.  Think of all the expressions using pig as a pejorative; pigging out readily comes to mind during these waning days of the Christmas season.  American advertisers would probably not use a pig to help sell a product, except to a pig farmer.  The Chinese, on the other hand, hold pigs in high esteem.  This animal has been and is still an important food in China, even though many Chinese no longer rely on pork and pork fat as a dense energy source needed for survival.  Pigs are a symbol of good fortune to the Chinese.

This is a banner advertising pork in the local RenRenLe grocery store.  I can't imagine several large, live pigs pictured right next to a plate of prepared pork in an American grocery store ad.  But those nice plump pigs represent prosperity and happiness to Chinese people.  At least to the 98% who are not Muslim.

Last night was a cheap date night for Terry and me at a noodle chain restaurant a 25-minute walk from our apartment.   Here's their cute piggy icon on the placemat.  The characters on its apron say "rice noodles".  The yesteryear-themed Porky's Drive-In on University Av. in St. Paul is the only eating establishment at home I can think of that uses a pig to advertise.

Our dinner was similar to what's pictured at left.  We each had a bowl of noodles in a flavorful broth with lots of mushrooms and a few other similar tasty vegetables I couldn't identify, lettuce (!), a few thin slices of lean roast pork, a few peanuts, and garnished with a crispy, paper-thin sheet of egg and some kimchi-like pickled cabbage matchsticks.  Delicious.  24 RMB for two bowls.  That's about $3.60.

If you're lucky a Minnesota branch of the rice noodle piggy restaurant will open soon and bring good fortune and good food your way.

Happy New Year from Shenzhen

     December has come and gone.  It was actually a relief to be here in China early in the month, where we appreciated the absence of excesses that go with the Christmas season in the U.S.   I didn’t feel particularly excited about going back to Minnesota for a few weeks.  The snowstorm that closed the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport a half-hour before our scheduled arrival on December 11 didn’t do much to build my excitement; the thought of maneuvering snowy roads in post-storm subzero weather was not appealing, especially since I hadn’t driven for 4 months.  But after an unexpected overnight in Detroit, freezing rain there the next morning and further delay, I finally began to feel eager to be home.   A day later than we’d planned, a cab dropped us off a block from our house.  The snowplow had not been through our street yet, but 4 of Leah’s friends had shoveled a path through the 18” on our sidewalks.  They were waiting at our house when we arrived, the Southwest H.S. Sherpas who lugged our luggage that last block.  The Best Sister Ever had hung a pine swag on the front door, had left a beautiful poinsettia on the dining room table, as well as pickled herring and other provisions in the fridge—and had come by the night before the storm to turn up the heat.  What a nice homecoming!  Within an hour I had emptied my meager supply of cinnamon sticks into a pot of fruit soup on the stove and had put a pan of gingerbread in the oven.  Our unlived-in house smelled lived-in again, and the excited girls sitting on the living room floor made it sound lively, too.

     It took a day or two to feel at home in our home.   Old routines soon became familiar:  driving in the snow, dressing for the cold, and getting ready for Christmas.  Returning to familiar faces and places was a comfort.  Despite my earlier lack of enthusiasm about returning to Minnesota, I thoroughly enjoyed seeing family and friends and celebrating Christmas, as well as the everyday miracles of American amenities.  Departure day came too fast, and I didn’t feel ready to leave it all again.

     But here we are, back in our apartment in Shenzhen, having arrived in the wee hours on December 31.   We’re settling back into our second home, getting used to our China routines, and it’s all OK.  Here’s what’s new:

     •  The weather has turned relatively cool in the few weeks while we were gone.  Nearby Hong Kong saw 40º this morning, which is about as cool as it gets here.  2 t-shirts and 2 sweatshirts kept me warm in our apartment, and by midday the sun felt very warm.  Maybe central heating won't be missed much after all…

     •  Terry discovered that most of the Chinese people he works with are taking a long New Year’s weekend, so he’s got a few days to rest up and ease into his work.  Leah doesn’t go back to school until Tuesday, either. 

     •  I was surprised and touched by the big smiles and greetings from some of the young Chinese workers that I talk to on my various daily rounds. “Nice to see you.  You were gone a LONG time!” 

     •  Leah’s friends tell her that the subway to our part of the city is now open.  Yesterday we walked by the stop nearest our apartment and sure enough, there were a few people going up and down the stairs and the lights were on down by the platform.  I had thought about trying it out this afternoon, but instead I ended up taking a long, jetlag-busting New Year’s nap.

     •  The oranges here are fantastic this time of year, very flavorful and sweet.  Yesterday I bought 3 different sizes and they were all tasty.  Our favorite is a tiny walnut-sized mandarin.

     •  We finally have a floor plant for our apartment.  I’ve been admiring various attractive options on sidewalk displays and vendor’s carts for months, but never quite decided how to get one home.  My problem was solved easily and cheaply this morning when I took out a bag of trash.  Sitting on the floor by the garbage bin in the stairwell was a healthy-looking succulent, which I promptly salvaged.  It’s quarantined on the balcony for now, just in case I missed something.

     So begins the first day of 2011 for us.  Best wishes to you for a happy and healthy 2011!