quick update

I had, just a moment ago, written the most brilliant blog post ever about the greatest things in life. But then the internet conked out and the heartbreakingly wonderful strings of words got trashed somewhere into the infernal space of Buddhist hell.

Suffice it to say, I'm glad to be able to access blogger again. I wonder why blogger's banned but not wordpress in China. Oh, the mysteries of life. Or at least the irrational, odd workings of the Chinese government's mind.

almost there

Today might be the last day we stay at the hotel. Even though our stay is subsidized by Zhejiang University, there's still something so luxurious in concept about living at a hotel that I'm growing more and more uncomfortable about staying here and increasingly eager to move into our (small) apartment.

We've turned on the electric and water. We've hired a cleaning lady to clean the entire apartment except for the windows and stove (which doesn't come with her package). We've arranged for new A/C units to replace the broken ones. We've bought new bedding, pillows, towels, kitchen appliances, and line-dry equipment. Today, the wireless internet guy's scheduled to come and set things up, and our washing machine needs to be replaced in order to handle my son's dirty diapers and our growing mound of sweat-stained clothes.

We are almost ready to check out and move in, officially.

Quick observations that are marked differences from how things are in the States:

1. People don't eat much meat here at all. Between my husband and me, we've probably eaten the equivalent of a chicken drumstick in meat quantity so far in the entire week we've been here. Meals here are predominantly vegetables and tofu of various kinds with lots and lots of white rice. Even when you order dishes with meat as part of their names.

2. Cigarette smoking is everywhere.

3. Babies are the most effective icebreaker between strangers. Random people everywhere would stop and grab or pat my son without greeting me or my husband. It was a bit startling at first; I think we're used to it now. It's really nice to see people making funny faces at my son wherever we go, especially because otherwise they would just stare at my very white husband and me like we're elephants that escaped from a zoo.

4. I used to think that the U.S. is the most expensive place to live. It's been really surprising during our one-day stop in Canada and now daily shopping in China to discover that, actually, the cost of living is pretty much the same abroad too. And with even less options.

5. Manual labor, cell phone plans, and internet service are still cheaper than in the States though.

On a quiet note, I've been having headaches and nausea quite a lot lately. We're going to try the pregnancy test again in two more weeks. Mixed feelings on what I would like the outcome to be.

spotty internet, so I shall be brief

Here in Hangzhou. Still exhausted, but can't sleep. Baby sleeping, so I'll expect him to not sleep tonight. It will be like when he's a newborn again. Since I now have experience, it doesn't scare me. I'm just grateful that he's doing well so far. Upon seeing the city, and where we'll be living, I have decided I won't have another kid until we're on our way out. We'll see. Maybe it gets better. Husband has gone off with a colleague to register with all the authorities. We are not in Kansas anymore.

E.J., you were so wrong to scoff at my concerns when you asked me how I felt about the impending move and I shared honestly. Then again, you are not a new mother and you haven't lived in China since you were a teenager; neither did you have to make all the decisions for your family's well-being, so I forgive you based on your immense ignorance.

I am thankful to God in getting us here so far. Over the four hour train ride, then the thirteen hour flight, with the power going off halfway and the last meal skipped due to excessive turbulence, then the three hour car ride while holding an unrestrained baby, all of us exhausted. If nothing else, this place makes me wish I have a stronger relationship with God. That in itself should be recognized as a wonderful thing.

my love affair with Seattle

- The crisp weather even in summer (compared to the roasting sauna that is Pittsburgh summer)

- Small but oh-so-delicious places to eat, like Uneeda Burger, Red Mills, Paseo, Facing East, Hiroki's, Caffe Vita, Dot's... just a few new places I've visited on this trip so far, not mentioning old favorites. And authentic, satisfying pho.

- Friendly people everywhere and polite drivers that actually yield to pedestrians.

- Green Lake. Woodland Park Zoo. Both walking distance from C.L.'s apartment.

- Lots of free neighborhood events, like a geo-caching block party.

- Farmers' markets galore!

And, of course, my friends and friends of friends that go way back and with whom I can really chill and be very silly with.

I'm glad I was able to make this stop prior to Tuesday's training it to Vancouver and flying away from this continent. Being able to rest up before the next exhausting stretch of travel is a wonderful luxury as well.

we're here! we're here!

In Seattle, that is. I have so many praises, but I'm too tired to really go into everything in detail. It's important though to remember flashes of this intense gratitude. For my husband who touted all the heaviest things from Pittsburgh to Memphis to C.L's. For my son who slept the majority of the time on both flights that totaled seven hours (the flights, not the nap lengths--otherwise that would *really* be something, wouldn't it?). It makes me a little less apprehensive about the 13 hour long flight awaiting us in about five days.

For friends in Pittsburgh who made it a point to hang out and make dinner for my little family every single night during our last week, who humored my excitement in planting a hibiscus plant on top of my son's placenta, now buried in our dear friends' yard. For prayers on our behalf, encouraging us and speaking with God regarding our fast approaching future with all its great unknowns. For all the family and friends who drove us to and fro and stayed up with us to repack all of our remaining belongings.

For C.L. taking the day off work and renting a zip car all day so our burdens were quickly and thankfully relieved for the moment. I am so, so blessed for all these undeserved blessings and wonderful gifts in my life. All these people, all their love. Thank You, God, so much.

heads, I care for my family; tails, I care for the world / same thing

I finally, finally got to watch Vas, Vis, et Deviens last night after coming home from the belated birthday dinner that J.N. and T.G. hosted for me. One fatigue meltdown later, and being put to bed, our son allowed my husband and me to watch this 2.5 hour long movie into the night, uninterrupted. A luxury I thought I could never enjoy again after our firstborn arrived.

Besides about three scenes, it was a completely new movie to me. I have become, it seems, a completely new person since I saw it in a Parisian movie theater six years ago. Back then, this movie had simply but profoundly--with the help of all the people I met in Paris--changed my fundamental perspective on race and ethnicity. Really, this movie, in conjunction with my time in Paris, made it possible for my now-family to come into being.

Watching Vas, Vis, et Deviens, this second time around, underlined how much becoming a mother is re-shaping me. A fourth scene burned itself into my mind, and became the most haunting sequence that surfaced over and over again in my dreams afterwards: the real footage of refugee children and babies in the Sudan. One particular baby made me scream inside, with his or her swollen head and triangular jawline, two jagged peaks where his/her cheeks should have been. Oh God. Until I had a baby of my own, suffering of this extent didn't really sink in with me. It's horrible, I know, but not until I now have a personal day-to-day contrast between my own double-chinned child, who sometimes reminds me of a fat mafia warlord, did the image and the reality that this happened and is still happening to children everywhere take a figurative sucker punch to my stomach and literally take my breath away. And an urgency like never before to prevent this from happening, business as usual.

Another mother shared a long-envisioned dream of her young family living in peace, which stuck to my mind in the same niggling fashion as what I'd witnessed last night; it's the flip side of the same coin: What do I want to do with my life? This coin I have rolled around in my hands since I left my country at nine-years-old with starry dreams of righting wrongs in the world. In ignorance, I had scorned the vision of a peaceful family. It had seemed selfish, insular, and devoid of any concern for the suffering. I had, since kindergarten (most likely influenced by my male adult relatives who were government-sponsored officials, soldiers, or doctors), envisioned that I would join their ranks in confronting corruption, tyranny, or disease. Patronizing comments about my being female merely made me adjust my aspirations to account for sexism's roadblocks. Around middle school, though, under the tutelage of an excellent social studies teacher, I realized with a shock that the people I resolved to "save" seem to have the uniform desire of one day, after surviving their current conditions, creating a peaceful home and family of their own.

This growing awareness forced my hand to turn over that coin and examine more seriously the side I'd scorned for so long. If the end goal of all this striving is to lead a harmonious life, why should I--someone who could clearly enjoy what all these people long for--shun it, disrespect it? As these two contrasting (contrasting because I had made them so) ideas presented themselves so immediately this week, I discovered with great surprise how differently I understand the matter now.

It is in having a child that I'm coming to understand the suffering of the world in increasing depth. It is in caring for my family that all the problems faced by other mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, seem all the more urgent to care about. My surprise, you see, is in how the coin I've flipped over and over again is no longer disjointed. These two sides make the whole. What I want to do with my life is fully complete with these two surfaces, together. Becoming a wife and mother--two roles I had very much resented and feared would end my freedom--are actually keeping my dreams alive. People like Sandra Steingraber and Elijah Lovejoy especially inspire me; they threw themselves into their missions to call out wrongs and to right them precisely because they were/are called to protect their children. They want to help make the world a kinder, more just, place for their children and their children's children.

That is what legacy means. It would have been impossible, really, impossible, for me to understand were I to have remained childless. My vision for how I want to serve with my life would have remained immature, a quasi-noble but actually self-glorifying goal. The definition of "selfish ambition," which had troubled me when I first read it in the Scriptures because, while not understanding, I had a feeling it had something to do with me. My ante-partum depression really forced me to work on surrendering a lot of junk in my soul.

So I celebrate with other people, now, their visions of God-blessed domesticity. These are as important as the desire for Heaven in our hearts. Not as something to keep us passive in our present lives, but as a finish line that goads us on to attempt greater things because we have something so good to hope for. May God use these things--as He uses all things--for His purposes.

genesis 32

When a struggle bears fruit, it is most gratifying.

I'm glad I verbalized my doubt and frustration to my husband and God, and recorded them in my last post here. Because this is one of those times when I will look back during times of silences and so-called "dark nights of the soul" to know, even if I don't feel, God is with me.

A matter of hours after my direct questioning, I was searching online about midwifery in China and Taiwan since it's very likely that my next child (God willing) would be born in Asia. Did you know that c-section rates in some Chinese hospitals are up to 100%? That. Is. Insane. Fortunately, the specter of all this bleak information was dispelled--at least momentarily--by my discovering an extensive parent network in Taiwan that seems to be more "my people" regarding how children should be born and raised. That got my husband and me talking about precisely why we chose the China position over the other offers he received. The fact of the matter is taking a position in Asia really opens up the best and quickest access to Taiwan later on, and hopefully I won't be as alone as I feel myself to be right now. Surely there are others in a city of six million who are similar to me.

And now, just now, as I was in the kitchen peeling and mincing garlic for the dinner I plan to make tonight, my husband's practicing Chinese in the dining room behind me. Even if nothing else gets accomplished in China, his becoming fluent in Mandarin would be a huge goal achieved--for him, for our kids, for our family, for future places we might go.

So many things in life -- the way we eat, spend our days, spend our money, interact with people and our kids -- are determined by competing forces, and which one(s) win out in the moment. How I would like things to be right now versus in the long run. Right now, it makes sense to stay in the States or go off on a pleasure jaunt to Europe or the Middle East for interesting experiences. If we had chosen these, I'm sure God would use where we would have been for good, too. But since I really would like us to be in Asia and be a part of a sorely needed social movement there, the choice we made is the best versus just the pretty good.

I spent some more time reflecting on why we gave our son the Chinese name that he has. It's the Chinese translation of the Hebrew "yireh" after "Yahweh-yireh". Not to be overly dramatic, but when I focus on all the pollution and lack of food and toy safety China's known for, I feel like Abraham tying up Isaac for the slaughter. In that light, how much more appropriate is our son's name.