a small moment of reflection

I was going to type in detail all that transpired in these few days, but then I remembered that this blog address is posted on my facebook page, which my husband's colleagues have access to. It would be best, I think, not to go into details. Simply because some people appreciate more privacy. I wasn't going to write anything bad, per se. I'm just more and more aware of all the politics and power struggles that can occur within a tight-knit work community.

What's left is a jumble of thoughts about wealth and the distribution of, consideration and to whom and how it's paid. It's truly humbling for me to be involved, albeit very marginally, in such situations so that I could essentially be a fly on the wall.

The Chinese civil service worker who walked me home one night, who said a couple of times that she thought my life was wonderful. She might actually have a point. Not how good I have it, materially speaking (faaaaaaar from it), but how much I'm learning about life and people and society and the human heart. It's tiring, but very, very interesting.

And I was so thankful that my son sat in the high chair of the fancy banquet room and fed himself all the pieces of food that I would periodically place in front of him as I actually had a formal, adult meal of my own with all the other adults. For more than an hour. Thank you, thank you, my child.

back in hangzhou (for three days)

This second trip to Beijing has changed my perspective towards this city, and for the better. Perhaps it's because I've met some really interesting people and was actually conversed with as a fellow adult with potentially interesting thoughts in return (!). Perhaps it's because I "get" the city's layout and what it might have to offer a lot better. Perhaps it's because our accommodations this time was ten times better than the last time. Perhaps it's because autumn in Beijing makes everything about it prettier. I spent quite a lot of time playing with my son by Weiming Lake on the campus of Beijing University after we walked my husband each morning to the international math research center.

We also went to Ten Year Cafe every night for dinner. It's a small Western-style coffee shop kitty-corner from the hotel we stayed at last time. It slightly amused me that I was able to direct a bunch of the foreign mathematicians to it after they wondered out loud about any place they can eat outside of the hotel. Apparently the translation at the hotel restaurant was not so good; one of the dishes listed on the menu was "fried human skin." I asked the mathematician that had shared this anecdote whether he ended up ordering it. His whole body recoiled quite dramatically as he exclaimed, "No! Of course not!" Judging from his appearance, I suspected he was Muslim and eats Halal (not that normal people would eat human skin...of course). It turns out he's Pakistini and, yes, follows the Islamic dietary laws. So I guess my query would have been especially shocking to him. My reasoning was that, since it couldn't possible be human skin, really, I personally would have ordered it just to find out what it actually was. According to my husband, this is a line of reasoning that makes a lot of people think I'm weird.

All the employees at the little cafe remembered my son, and marveled at his development since they last saw him two months ago. When we left last night, our last dinner there probably until next semester, I actually felt a little sad. We made sure the employees that played with our son the most exchanged good-byes with him.

So, three days and one (hopefully...not much time to notify people) birthday celebration later, we'll head to Shanghai. I hope I'd like Shanghai as much as I've come to like Beijing.

Right before I took this picture, the people in the background showed up and loudly proclaimed I was being negligent in letting my son play by himself on the grass like that.

I decided I much prefer this patch of grass for him to frolic upon. His dad was giving a talk in the nearby building.

can fights really be productive?

Currently in Beijing (again). But in a much, much nicer hotel room than the last time we're here. Chances of my son getting bitten in his sleep by bed bugs decreases dramatically.

The weather here is much colder than Hangzhou. I like it a lot. The air is crisper, and thus feels cleaner. We just have to make sure our son dresses appropriately. Kind of hard to do when he seems to hate wearing clothes. My husband and I got in a ridiculous (and ridiculously long) fight due to a misunderstanding involving our son's sock. It all started with a local mom's surprised exclamation to her daughter as they walked past me that his left foot was bare. I found out in about three seconds that he had yanked it off as I was wearing him on my back, hurrying to get some lunch. His father found out in 45 minutes, after I finally got a hold of that madman who just took off running back towards the direction of where we've been walking from, hell-bent on finding that sock somewhere along the route and not heeding my calls, literal and then by phone.

The ridiculously long fight ended up making me think long and hard about the next three/four years, and we as a family (I think) have come to a new understanding. It'll take a lot of work, a lot of possible failure, a lot of sacrifice on our (as parents, as adults) part, but I finally sense a rightness to this plan, and a peace upon the basic structure of it which wasn't there before.

So we'll see how it pans out. I've recorded the family plan elsewhere, and it'll be...interesting...to match it up (or not) with reality three/four years from now.

Whatever happens, I hope our son will always be fundamentally joyful and glad to be alive. Like this.

"motherhood" circa 1911

Came upon this picture while surfing just now. Something that I wouldn't look twice at even while I was pregnant now captivated me, just for a moment, as I admired the woman's serenity. I also appreciated the description Malcolm C. Salaman (whoever he is) said at the bottom.

After I had given birth to my son almost a year ago (he'll turn one on 13 November), I had sworn that I would never ever give birth again. I would adopt all subsequent children. Labor, appropriately named, was the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life. The subsequent bleeding and all sorts of gory details also didn't appeal. I had wondered why, just why, would anybody have multiple children. Oh, you'll get over it, all my older women friends who do in fact have more than one kid said knowingly, as they cradled and cooed at my son and I was grateful for the rest. You'll want to have another one again someday, they say. Not likely, I'd thought, and made great, great effort to write down all the painful details of my labor.

And, yes, I am still concerned... About possibly undergoing antepartum depression again. About all the fears I had while carrying my son, and now with the added factors of China's horrendous air quality and food safety issues.

But I strangely feel drawn to have a sibling for my son / a new member of our small family. I already have two names -- one for a girl, one for a boy -- picked out, in both English and Chinese. Pretty crazy, huh? It really is, because I loved my freedom. Motherhood has shown how selfish and self-involved I used to and still long to be a lot of times. Like tonight, after spending the entirety of the day taking care of my son at home, just him and me, making dinner, and doing laundry and dishes after putting him to bed all by myself while my husband lived the professorial life that I once led, I was sad that I couldn't attend an expat event that I probably could have gone to if I was willing to leave all the dirty dishes undone until tomorrow.

Maybe if I have a better support system (instead of me being all alone taking care of the newborn/baby/toddler while my husband continues to work) next time, things would be easier?

This mystery will unravel in due time.

pushing up the boulder of sisyphus

Sometimes that's what it feels like to take care of a place in dusty-aired China. If I ever live in the States again, I will never complain about doing dishes. It would be a luxury to not have to bend over a tiny sink and meticulously attempt to soap and wash everything without water dripping all over the floor so that I have to mop up and wash my feet after every session. And a washer and dryer! These contraptions, once taken so for granted, now seem like sci-fi magic-ma-jigs that maybe I'll get to experience again in the year 2040 when technology becomes more advanced. Once my son becomes potty-trained, this part should become easier. I wonder when that will be.

To rub salt into this (not really) wound, the many young working professionals (read: single and without children) often call me with fairly last-minute requests to help teach or do things since they figured I have nothing to do all day except "just watching the kid." This is true, in general, except their tone seems to convey their belief that this is somehow an idyllic vacation that I'm living:

"So, what else do you do all day besides looking after your son?"

"Hm... That's basically what I do all day."

"Oh, that's it?"

I could go into details about what that consists of, but I do recall to my shame that I pretty much felt as they did before I started babysitting a lot for my now-goddaughter and her sister.

Oh wellz. I don't need anyone's approval or understanding but God's. So after planning and leading my small group through our activity night, still trying to find time and energy to translate for a friend's dad's factory, and leading a group to visit the orphan's hospital tomorrow, I think it's all right if I said no to something I'm not really all that good at anyway last night, right? Yes. Let me get off this performance treadmill.

yay for small blessings

My husband's rigged up a proxy for this particular computer so I could access blogger more frequently (among other things). Hurray! I catch up on the websites I follow, and am astounded by so many things happening in other people's lives.

My own life is pretty placid in comparison. I take care of the apartment, our dinners, the child. I read when I have the time and clean as much as I could. Our house church here is starting to partner with an orphan's hospital. The only hospital for orphans in the entire province of Zhejiang, 20 minutes by bus from where I live. I held a baby who's awaiting a cleft palate operation; I wanted to take her home so she could belong to a loving family instead of mostly lying on a cot by herself all day. Our pastor's wife delivered their third child last Tuesday, and they're heavily fined for not opting for an abortion instead. We the church are helping them at this time.

It took a long time for my professional ambition to die, or at least, go completely dormant without the bursts of intense mourning of my personal goals in life. Which had never included a husband, kids, building a home. Quite the opposite--I dreamed of being free and completely independent during all the nights I rubbed my swollen, beaten wrists/arms/wherever while crying softly to sleep in bed.

Strangely, I feel more at peace now. I am learning to have a more thankful heart and be content in all circumstances (beginning with this one).

some days call for spending money like money

Today consisted of my son waking up two hours earlier than usual, which meant that by the time we should be heading to the bus stop to attend church service, he's ready to nurse and nap. Which he did. Then my husband started spewing bodily products on both ends (sorry for the tmi) in the early afternoon. Followed by my son melting again with need to nap. So. Both of them retired to the family bed and slept for the rest of the afternoon and the better part of the night. After they woke, I thought it might be good for us to get some fresh air and we ended up here. In a Western-style coffee shop that served panini and have internet that allows me to link up my vpn.

We paid 80RMB, which divided by 6.4 is the actual US price. Adjusting for my husband's current salary and thus our buying power, however, it's akin to dropping US$40 for a shot of expresso and two thin sandwiches. But the internet! And the getting out of the house! And the husband feeling much better!

Worth it. Just for tonight.