Nothing Like Family

I sit down to dinner with my family, in my customary little spot, between my sister and the older-younger brother. Noodles tonight, cooked by none other than Diana herself… unfortunately, however, she’s left them in the pot for too long, and the effect is more of a grey-green porridge-like substance. Still delicious with a little pepper and salt, but not exactly appetizing to look at. Dad says grace, first in English, and then in Chinese. I keep my eyes open, thankful for a chance just to take it all in. My youngest brother (dìdi) continues playing with his little lego-truck, ramming it repeatedly into his bowl of noodle-porridge, seemingly oblivious to the fact that rest of the family has quieted. My other brother (Da dìdi– means older younger brother) sits, head bowed, little hands folded tightly, occasionally squinting up in annoyance at the offending lego-truck and its driver. “Amen” is said, and immedietly the room explodes into noise… noodles are slurped, dìdi continues to steer his lego truck over the tabletop, perilously skirting scattered chopsticks and bowls... mèi mei (younger sister) argues with mother about the soupy noodles, da dìdi stands on his chair, enthusiastically trying to perfect various kung-fu positions. (I’ve narrowly avoided being effectively kicked in the face various times while eating dinner) That kid’s a warrior in the making... If ever any rascals come a’knockin at my door, that kid’ll be the first person I call to teach them a lesson. Never go in against a six-year-old-Jackie-Chan when your dignity is on the line.

Eventually, our noodle-slurping comes to a close, and dessert is served. Porridge –zhou, or congee- tonight! Literally rice with excess hot-water mixed in and, if you’re lucky, some brown sugar and dried dates, or sweet potato for flavor. I can imagine you wincing… but it’s actually delicious, and definitely does the job when it comes to fighting off the residual Beijing winter cold. My brothers scarf theirs down, and hightail it upstairs to continue their seemingly never-ending lego-wars (in which I have definitely participated in more than once… sad to say, my pretending skills were a little out of practice, but that’s changed, thanks be to Neverland…).

My parents and younger sister and I sit at the table for a little longer. Sometimes we hold a 4-person bilingual bible study (listening to scripture in another language, especially one like Mandarin is a beautiful experience… one I’ll miss for certain). Sometimes we just sit for awhile and talk about the Chinese language… I’m often driven to tears of laughter while they try to explain to me just how many different formal titles various aunts and uncles can be given. In the states, we just say Aunt and Uncle, but because the Chinese value relationship and respect so much, each family member has a particular title. For example, my mother’s older sister has a different title than my father’s older sister, and my father’s younger sister has a different title than my mother’s younger sister. (Are you lost yet?) And if there are multiple siblings on both parents’ sides, the older ones have different titles than the younger ones. And if you’re close friends with me, than my children will also call you “auntie” or “uncle” however, it’s a different “auntie” or “uncle” than if you were actually my sister or brother. (Are you lost NOW?)  And if you’re older than me, I can’t call you by your full name, I have to use your formal title, but if you’re younger than me, I can call you a nickname, which usually ends of being something doubled… for example, if your name is Mary and you were younger than me, I’d (supposedly?) increase you’re cuteness by callying you May May, or Ry Ry. Or if your name is Phillip, your “cute” nickname would be Phi Phi. (Okay, I’m sure you’re sufficiently bewildered…)

ANYWAY. The point is, Chinese value relationship. A LOT. So much so that it trickles down into every form of expression you can imagine. And if you didn’t know this already, relationship is a HUGE part of their way of conducting business… “guanxi” or, connections, pretty much determine your future as a businessman or woman in China… and, as many know, those connections often can mean corruption… but in some cases, like at the kindergarten I teach at, they can be helpful. Both of my parents’ siblings are involved with running the school, and it really makes the “team” aspect of their management quite a lot more effective!

Long tangent. Sorry, I know… we were happily discussing dinner-time, and somehow ended up with corporate planning. Woops.

Let’s go back.

I love my Chinese family. SO much. They are beautiful, wonderful, humble, intricate, love-filled human beings. (Yes, even my horror of a youngest brother… who still thinks biting/scratching/spitting is a good way to communicate your desire for hugs and chocolate).

 As much time as I’ve spent here, the language barrier, and the culture difference has made getting to know and understand my family difficult. I’ve been here for 7 months or so now, and still really don’t feel like I know them very well. But here in China, friendship takes time and trust. Everything is based off of actions, not words. I’m looking forward to a life’s time of learning and action and developing further that wealth of trust and love I’ve tasted while being here. Because these people and precious to me… more precious to me than I think I even realize now as I write.

Next time I’ll tell you exactly why. For now, sleep is the smarter, if less exciting option. Hope all’s well stateside… 10 weeks left… only 10 weeks left here…

What a terrifying thought. 

Japan

Updates. Goodness gracious, so much has happened I really don’t know where to begin. Teaching still has a place in my heart; each day at the Kindergarten remains a treasured adventure. My family continues to be loving and wonderful and so, so precious to me. Diana and the older of my two younger brothers recently treated ourselves to a midnight viewing of the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean. (Apparently my siblings had seen the other three… via pirated versions on Youku, the Chinese version of YouTube) For the fourth movie, however, we took the legal route and watched it through iTunes on my computer late at night. I truly enjoyed the whole exploit; spending time with my new siblings is something I’ve really come to cherish because… well, relationships here feel a little bit like onions. You really do have to peel people back one layer at the time. And I found it incredibly encouraging to see that Diana and I share the same mildly nerdy fetish for the Pirate franchise, even if she had to pause it every 15 minutes or so to translate for our younger brother.

            Kristin and I, in an effort to avoid being arrested or detained or deported for failing to leave the country before our visa expiration date, visited Japan back in October.

            Japan.

            SO.

            AWESOME.

            I wont bore you with an in-depth account of every second we spent in that marvelous place, but I will try my absolute best to give you some kind of an impression of my most colorful memories there.

            The journey truly began with a bathroom. I don’t know if you’ve ever found your way into a true-life Japanese bathroom, but they’re a wee bit… shall we say… complicated? Think of it like this… if your porcelain god is, say, a Buick, the bathrooms at Tokyo airport are the equivalent of, oh, a Saturn 5 maybe? Buttons, buttons everywhere. I’m probably stepping out of line by describing all this to you, (Yes, Mom, I know that ladies do not typically express their opinions of international public plumbing…) but I couldn’t help myself.

            After the airport and its fantastical restrooms came a train. A marvelously clean, quaint, comfy modern train through the windows of which I caught my first view of real, untainted sunlight in about 2 and a half months. Blue sky, golden sunlight, green grass… I can’t tell you how much I’ve come to appreciate the things I so often took for granted in SoCal.

            After the train, Kristin and I emerged in Tokyo, much like I think Lucy emerged out of the wardrobe into a winter wonderland that was Narnia. But instead of a lamppost and a fawn, we met fruit stands, modern architecture, ramen, and a hostel.

            I can’t tell you how refreshing it was to be in a city where the air felt breathable, the ground remained free of… well, excrement… people weren’t shoving us, staring, spitting, or screaming “WEI” (pronounced “wayyyyyy”) into cell phones. No car horns blared unnecessarily, no dust seemed to clog the drains or darken the windows… I honestly don’t mean to make Beijing sound like such a dismal place by comparing it to Tokyo, but the truth is, Beijing is dirty. Tokyo, clean. In Japan, people are generally polite (sometimes a little overly so…) and in China, most don’t necessarily seem to care that hacking up a loogie mid convo generally deters a prospective customer.

            Either way, after the bitter cold and harsh lifestyle we’d weathered in Beijing, Tokyo was quite refreshing. And I’d have to say that I was nearly brought to tears when, having collapsed on the bed of our hostel-room, I realized that the sheets and pillowcase smelled… not of smoke… but of real, actual laundry detergent. (Okay, so I was being a little dramatic…)

            We spent the next day touring the various temples and markets of Tokyo, generally enjoying the new smells, sounds (or lack of them), sights, and of course, tastes that Japan had to offer. The weather fall-ish, cool and brisk, the sun was shining, the food we ate wasn’t swimming in oil… it was lovely. We visited a temple; unlike the temples of Beijing, this one was full of people… people praying, tossing coins, burning incense. It seemed like the whole city had come to pay their respects before jumping back on the metro. It was refreshing to be a in a place where people are allowed to express their beliefs, to carry out their traditions. Later, we stopped at Harujuku park; the amount of creativity expressed there astounded both Kristin and I. The entire park was full of people… people singing, dancing, playing any instrument between the guitar, bongos and flute… people dressed to the tee in all imaginable outfits (granted, it was Halloween). But, this wasn’t your typical “day at the park” experience. Or at least, not by American standards. I left the park that day so encouraged; these people took joy in their creativity! No government had robbed them of their freedom to express! In fact, not only did it seem that the people of Tokyo took joy in expressing themselves, but it seemed almost as if you were expected to. There were literally hundreds of people... doing all sorts of things (we even saw a family with their pets, all of which, it seemed, could ride a skateboard. The pets, I mean) and Kristin and I got the feeling that our day at the park was a very typical one.

            By that night, and a few train, ahem, bullet-train stops later, we’d arrived in Hakone, a more rural city in the mountains of Japan, famous for its lakes, mountains, and views of Mt. Fuji. After loosing my camera and journal, and after a long and winding taxi drive, we finally made it to our destination. Kristin, the Great Trip Planner, had booked us a few nights at a Hakone ryokan. A traditional Japanese inn, complete with natural hot springs (and yes, we did try them out. Very hot. And very… natural… I shan’t explain further).

Unfortunately, we weren’t able to actually see our lodgings until the following morning; night had fallen, and we were too focused on the marvelous kaiseki being prepared for us. (Ryokan hospitality includes clothing in the form of yukata, bedding on customary tatami, and a traditional Japanese meal, kaiseki) We could, however, hear the roaring waters of the neighboring river, roughly 100 feet below our window.

            The next day, we climbed Mt. Fuji.

Not really, but I wish.

Actually, considering how many times my heart nearly popped during our trek up a smaller peak, I really don’t wish we’d climbed Fuji.

Anyway, we found ourselves at the foot of Mount Kanmurigatake, and naturally decided to find our way to the summit. [Now say “Mount Kanmurigatake” three times very quickly (and try not to accidently spit on your screen.)] Anyway, if you’ve been following the photo blog, you’ll see that we had quite the adventure… the natural beauty was utterly stunning, what with the bright reds of Japanese maples, the dulled gold of summer grasses about to yield their lifeblood to the oncoming winter… the bright greens of the more sturdy bushes, the lovely pine forests we passed on our way up, and don’t forget the clouds of sulfuric steam from the volcanic craters that added a very ethereal, mysterious, and rather stinky aspect to the whole scene. However, whatever sulfuric smell we sniffed was quickly blown away by a delightful breeze, carrying all the scents of fall and impending adventure. It was an amazing hike; the pictures, as beautiful as they are, still can’t quite capture the glory of it all. I will always remember that hike as one the most beautiful I’ve ever endeavored to hoof; such a breathtaking reflection of God’s amazing personality!

Our next stop was Kyoto, famous for its temples. Only one of which we actually visited. Our time in Kyoto was spent biking down the Path of Philosophy… and true to our nature, we were very, very philosophical as we rolled along the ancient, gravel-lined road.

            After all the philosophy, we naturally chose to end the day by continuing to act mature and philosophical…

            …and therefore decided to impulsively buy ukuleles, eat ice-cream waffles, dress in matching pajamas, and jump on the bed until 2 in the morning. While taking pictures of ourselves.

Kukai and the rest of those good ‘ole Japanese philosophers would be so proud of us!

            We ended the last few days back in Tokyo… we further explored the city, and thoroughly lost ourselves in the more local side of Japanese life. So, so much to see, so few hours to see it! A lot of what we saw really inspired lots of thought from me in terms of the different sides to Japanese culture, light and dark. I wish I could spend more time trying to grasp it all, to soak it all up.

            Truly the trip of a lifetime. There’s so much to see, so much to learn… as there is with any place! But Japan especially captures the senses and makes a memorable impression on the imagination.

            Thanks to God (and Kristin’s amazing trip-planning skills) those few days in beautiful Japan are ones I will never, ever forget.

Happy-Last-Day-of-Chinese-New-Year from here in Beijing!