waigouren/zhongouren

As we left our apartment building this morning for church, two little boys in red shirts scootered to a quick stop in front of us. "waiguoren! waigouren!(Foreigners! Foreigners!)" one pointed at us with surprise. On cue, Jacek, Sofia and Stirling all pointed back "zhongouren! zhongouren! (Chinese! Chinese!)." Confused, the boy shook his head no. The three "waigouren" nodded their heads yes. "You are too Chinese," the laughed.

Hong Kong

We've had a wonderful day: pastries from a Golden Mile shop; subway to Hong Kong Island from our hotel on Kowloon; funicular up Victoria Peak; 360 degree view of Hong Kong from the Sky Terrace; Graham Street market with sliced fish so fresh their hearts still beat; Fu Yuen Street Market open from 6:00 am to 2:00 am every day; tangerine skins at the Wholesale Food Market; bargaining (again!) at the Jade Market; the Langham Place Mall with escalators going up four flights through an open air lobby and then another escalator going up another four flights; Shang Shang Shanghai food for dinner.

Then our luck turned. At the Mong Kok station, Isabel stepped into the subway car. Stirling stopped on the platform, said "Wait" and turned to look for the rest of us who trailed behind. The yellow caution light flashed. The inside doors closed. Stirling turned back, saw Isabel inside, and instinctively shoved his body between the closing outside glass doors, then wrenched them as hard as he could to open them. I ran up and pounded with my fists on the inside doors as Stirling shouted to Isabel "Tsim Sha Tsui" the stop for our hotel. Magically, the inside doors opened and a crying Isabel shot into Sofia's arms. We were very grateful the engineer was watching.

On every trip, I've had Isabel tell me over and over again what hotel we are staying at. Here it is the Imperial Hotel on Nathan Road. We've talked about finding an adult with a child to help her if she gets lost. Now we've added, "If you get separated from the group on the subway, get off at the next stop and stay put." But, it won't happen again.

Isabel's subway separation happened very quickly and only lasted a few minutes. Really, it's been a very wonderful day.

Broken Necks

In Hong Kong, there are no Broken Necks. That’s the name Sofia, Jacek and Isabel have affectionately given to the myriads of people who openly stare -- no, gawk -- at us in Shenzhen. I’m afraid we’ll cause a traffic accident when truck drivers spot us up ahead and then lean out the window to crane 180 degrees and beyond as they drive by. “Broken Neck,” I say to Sofia as a woman riding tandem with a crying child swivels around to see us. “Broken Neck on the right” Isabel says as a grandma stops sweeping the street to tracks our steps. I thought I’d be used to it by now, but we just arrived by subway in Hong Kong and I can feel the difference. Not a soul has stared at us, not one.

And, I have VPN-free blog access. I(heart)HongKong.

Who are the people in your family?

While I was judging a moot court tryout round this morning, Cheryl, one of the office assistants, waved at me insistently through the glass window of the classroom door. I finished judging moot court, then went down to the office to see what she wanted. She searched around on her desk for two documents, one white, one pink and said “These are in Chinese. Maybe I will tell you what they say” as if I might already know what she was talking about. I didn’t. She said “When you live in an apartment complex, you have rules.” “Oh, no” I thought, “someone has complained about us at Lakefront Fairyland. We’ve probably broken all kinds of rules, but it’s a little late to tell us exactly what the rules are.” She continued “I have to register your apartment contract. When I register your contract, you have to register your family.” “But,” I say “we are leaving in a week.” “But, I tell them that you are leaving, so they say you don’t register your family.”

Cheryl’s pause gave weight to her next words, “The family planning count will happen at your apartment on Tuesday.” “What?” I said in surprise. “In China, we have a family planning rule, one child per family. It is a very strict rule.” My mind raced “Right, I know that . . . but, I have three children . . . They are already here. . . The rule can’t possibly apply to us . . . I don’t need or want family planning advice from the neighborhood clinic or the Chinese state.” “On Tuesday,” she repeated “the family planning advice will happen at your apartment. “ “But . . . but . . .” I spluttered. She looked me in the eye, “Your family is not registered. Don’t open the door.”

What do you need: bullhorn or cell phone?

October 20, 2009

Question: In China, who is louder, someone with a bullhorn or someone with a cell phone?

Answer: The cell phone screamer.

Jacek's Bargain at Mutianyu (The Great Wall)

Jacek bargained with broken bones at Mutianyu and came out ahead. An old man in an olive green army jacket graced by a sparkly Obama pin on the front followed us up a 12 foot ladder into one of the guards' towers to persuade Jacek to buy a cheap, gold colored Great Wall medal on a red ribbon. After a great conversation, Jacek finally said yes and we all turned to go back down. Jacek took three steps, then slipped and fell the rest of the way down to the stones below. Stirling saw him fall the nine or ten feet. As the last in line, I only heard the clunks and Stirling saying "Don't move, buddy. Really, don't move. I'm coming down." Stirling checked Jacek out: no broken tibia, no broken fibula, no broken femur, no broken ankle, no broken foot, no broken wrist, as far as he could tell. Jacek had bloody knees and the bruises have grown larger and darker with time, but he could walk and his knee caps survived intact.

Tonight, back in Shenzhen, we talked about what we are grateful for. Isabel said "that Jacek didn't break any bones on the Great Wall." He also got lost on the wall, but that's a story for another time.

Sofia's and Isabel's Bargains at Mutianyu (The Great Wall)

The Mutianyu section of the Great Wall snakes across mountain ridges an hour and a half outside of Beijing. I tried to imagine what it would have been like to be a soldier living on the wall, looking out into a distant valley for the enemy, sleeping on the cold stone far from home.

Sofia was my personal shopper at all the little stalls along the pathway to the wall. She's ask me how much I was willing to pay for something and then doggedly bargain down to that range. Her best strategy was to simply keep repeating her low ball offer, "San shi kuai" (30 yuan), in the face of the outrageous price the vendor first quoted "Yi bai ba shi kuai" (180 yuan). When the vendor said "I'll give you the Chinese price because you speak Chinese" and lowered the price to 160 yuan, she'd say "San shi kuai." To "Come on, give a little," she'd smile and say "San shi yi kuai" (31 yuan). As she walked away with her purchases, some vendors complained to each other in Chinese about the hard bargains she drove.

Isabel did some great bargaining at the wall too. With her good knowledge of numbers and bargainig strategy, she got presents for several friends.

I'll try and get some pictures up soon.