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.