To market we go...

The kids and I spend most of our mornings walking the same route to do our errands. It's a mundane task, but I also know that when we move home, I will miss parts of my life here. One of the changes that I've had to make, that is for the better, is to find ways to meet our needs without the use of a car (although we have access to one now--bonus:no more car seat installation). For the past two years my primary mode of transportation has been my own two feet.

In the states, our house is within half a mile of stores, yet I always drove wherever I needed to go. Never did it dawn on me that maybe I should walk to pick up my husband's dry cleaning or buy groceries. I could've, but I didn't. 

My kids are young. Too young to remember life here. Sal may remember some parts of living in China, but my guess is that he will forget most if not all of his experience here once we hit US soil. My goal for our last year here is to take pictures of the day to day stuff that wowed us when we arrived, but is now so "normal". I'd like to make a yearbook of sorts so that our family can look back and be like, "yeah, we did that". 

So, today, I documented our errands. The sights we saw, the transactions made...all things we see every day but may not remember years from now.

It's been raining this week, but we were still able to roll through the mud well enough to sneak through our "secret" exit that is accessed through the green belt below our home.

We started our walk over the tiled bridge that gives us a view of the canal that runs behind our compound. It smells during summer.

On the other side of the bridge there is a strip mall below Vanke apartment complex. Our drycleaner & favorite Korean market are located here.

Right now, there is a mangy kitty (hello fleas!) outside our dry cleaners. He's cute but in terrible shape.

Here's our dry cleaner. I'm exchanging four dirty shirts for two clean today. 

Our stroller doesn't fit inside so the kids wait outside while I prop the door open with my foot. One foot in the store, one hand on my stroller. 

After our stop at the cleaners, we continue on across the intersection towards the market. We often pass other children riding on their Nǎinai's e-bike. This Nǎinai and her kids are riding three deep. That's a kid on the back covered in a "bike seat". 

I don't judge, we do it to. 

With helmets, of course.

Today there is a fire burning in the rubble of the recently demolished apartments and vegetable market.

 The government has come in and torn down our produce market. The big dogs have  plans for the land. Selling produce is not one of them. For now, the vendors have moved to the driveway that used to lead to their building. They set up shop under umbrellas. I'm talking everyone. Veggies, fruits, fish, pork, spices....they're all outside now. My heart hurts for them.

We buy our fruit and veggies from the same family every time. Their son speaks English, and the husband knows "banana" and "cherry". I know how to say apple, mango and watermelon in mandarin. We laugh at each other's use of the words. With admiration for trying, of course.

He always gives Sal free fruit. Today Sal got two bananas, a melon slice and a lingonberry. 

Sal declined the bananas so Carla tried one. She was quite peeved with me when the banana was gone. Girlfriend can eat!

We left the market and found ourself in a traffic jam. Busses, e-bikes, pedestrians, cars, bikes and tuktuk trucks.. It's quite common for women to ride their e-bikes in mini skirts and pantyhose. Flashing is a sport here.

We made our way through, and passed our favorite roadside watermelon vendor with his new tuktuk on our way home.

We crossed the intersection towards home but had to watch for e-bikes and turning cars, as always. Crossing a street here is like playing frogger. There's the water delivery man below. $1.20 per jug, deliverd to your door. 

As we approached the bridge below our compound, we passed what Sal and I call the "pee pee water" spot, in which we often see taxi drivers pull over to relieve themselves. It's just a bunch of bushes right before the  bridge begins. Today we passed a taxi driver relieving himself. Naturally, I let him photobomb my selfie (then conveniently cropped myself out) to share with you all--cause I'm sneaky like that. See him next to the tree? Yeah...he's doing what you think he is.

We cross the bridge and see our block. Almost home. During winter and rain, the tiles on the bridge get slick, and I'm happy to have my stroller to help keep me from falling and busting my tailbone. I think we've all pulled a groin or two on these tiles.

We cross paths with the lady that I've told Sal is our recycling lady. She digs through the trash cans in our compound looking for recyclables. Now that my ayi is no longer, I try to put our recyclables to the side for this lady. I know she will dig anyways, but at least she won't have to dig for ours. 

Through the gates...Sal will tell you not to touch the wires above, because "they will hurchew" (hurt you). Electric fences keep the bad seeds out, or so we hope. 

And up the elevator...at two and almost a half, Sal can almost reach the up button. Today I gave him a boost, but I speculate that by the time we move home, he will be tall enough to reach the button himself. He loves to be my doorman.

And finally, we have arrived  home...time to unpack the car, I mean...stroller.

You just walked a mile (literally) in our shoes. Thanks for joining us on our errands today.

Love, Brie & co.

Donglin academy, Wuxi

This past Friday, Sal and I joined the Wuxi international club for a guided tour of a historical "famous" academy located in Wuxi. Donglin Academy, built in AD1111, was the place for Yang Shi, a well-known scholar at that time, to give lectures. 

                                          [entering the academy]

                [Pan pool- built for peaceful reflection]

                 [ enamored with the circular doorways]

                 

                 [ sitting in wancui house, a lecture room]

                                [star student]

                  [ playing outside on a beautiful day]

All in all it was a beautiful tour, although, I have to admit, the educational message of the tour was lost on me, as it is impossible to listen to the guide while chasing a toddler away from ancient artifacts and open waterways. 

I've always shied away from doing these types of tours, but I really enjoyed getting to see a little bit of Wuxi's history, and think that we will sign up for more in the future. I'd hate for my time here to be spent holed up in our apartment, or only seeing shopping malls, grocery stores and indoor playgrounds. Sal is so little he won't remember any of this life in China, so it's my duty to get out and take pictures for him to look back on as he grows up. 

Plus, an afternoon with friends?

Can't beat that.

Interested in learning more about the history of the academy? 

Check out this link: http://www.wxdlsy.com/eabout.htm

Mediocrity

Another cultural phenomenon that I just.don't.get.

Mediocrity.

Last December, we found that the shower in our guest bathroom was leaking under the floor tiles. This resulted   in paint (lead based, I'm sure), peeling from the saturated interior wall and staining our wood baseboards black. 

We notified management, and they set up a crew to come fix the problem. Starting Christmas morning, we had jackhammers going, concrete dust permeating the air, and a useless shower. This lasted a week. 

After one week of digging up the tiles, then re-applying cement layers, they said the job was complete and we would need to wait one more week to use our shower. We asked that they repaint the section of wall that the paint had peeled away on, and they said they would come back. Someone else had to do that job.

Seven months later, still no paint.

Hmmmph.

So, a month ago, we reported that the shower was again leaking, but this time into our master bedroom (from the back wall of the guest shower). Our wall was starting to peel, the baseboards and floor turning black. We were told the workers would come back to fix the shower leak the next day. We would need to be home all week.

Sal and I cancelled all of our plans for the week and sat.

And sat.

And sat..

No workers.

Finally my husband's assistant got hold of the supervisor and was told we would receive a call 24 hours before the men would start. I resumed normal life, and got Sal out of the house for some fun. 

Two weeks later, a call. They would start Monday. It would take 10 days. Each day they will arrive at 8:30.

Day one. 8:30. Nothing. 

Day one. 11:00. Nothing.

Day one 3:45. Workers arrive. Want to work until 7:30! 

(I told them they must quit at 5:30, so my family can have normal dinner, bath and baby bedtime)

Days, 2-8, exactly the same..they'd say 8:30, they'd show whenever the heck they wanted to. They jackhammered, made dust, left plugged power saws out and available to my curious toddler and stared at me while I prepped food in the kitchen (presumably waiting for cement to dry? This guy watched me for the better part of an hour while his partner smoked in the bathroom). From what I could see, they were doing the same layered cement "fix" as last time. 

Anyways, after a "bad talk" with my husband's assistant, they finally showed up on time the last day. They caulked the joints and said we could use the shower today. 

Okay, how about replacing floor boards and painting walls?

Someone else must do this, I'm told.

The painter and floor person will come another day.

Wtf?! Isn't 10 days enough? We're going crazy here.

To top it off, Nick examined the shower when he got home last night, and found that there are gaps in the caulk-job, and some sections aren't caulked at all.

Thankfully, my friend downstairs speaks mandarin and is having the same bathroom demo (and caulking problem), so she complained to them for me today. 

Supposedly tomorrow I will be visited by the caulk engineer, painting captain and floor guru.

For being professionals at their jobs, they sure do mediocre work at best.

Unfortunately, this is commonplace here in China. 

Mediocrity sucks.

*** Friday update***

Workers arrived on time, photo bombed my Skype conversation with my mama, helped the,selves to a glass in my kitchen to mix caulk in (what happened to the trigger tubes of caulk?), pulled up the hardwood in our bedroom that needed replacing....

...and this is what I'm left with for what I'm being told will be another week while the subfloor dries.

Seriously? This is right outside our master bathroom which, being pregnant and all, I tend stumble to least four times a night. This is an accident waiting to happen between my frequent bathroom trips in the dark and having a curious toddler in tow.

I hate to complain but I'm seriously 'bout to lose my shttt here.

Sunset dining

We ate on the beach at sunset last night.

So romantic, right?

The driver that picked us up from the airport had given us his number in case we needed anything during our stay. We have used him a couple of times now-once to drive into Kuta, and again last night to go to a Jimbaran area live seafood restaurant. Turns out, his brother in law works there, so we had the welcoming committee during our stay. Everyone in Bali is so friendly.

Here are NZ and Sal picking out shellfish (none for Sal, he shared my fish instead) for dinner.

Here's the view from our table. The rain clouds were looming so we didn't get an ultra colorful sunset but it was still serene, none-the-less. So far it has only rained overnight, so we have enjoyed sunny days all week through.

Family picture in front of our table. Bet you thought I was lying when I said beachfront seating. Nope. This place is literally on the beach. Sand in your toes and everything. Doesn't get much more vacations than that.

And finally, a picture of yours truly, way too excited to have fresh red snapper for dinner. Living in China I most certainly do not trust seafood from the markets. Fresh, my ass. If I can't smell the ocean air from where I'm buying my fish, it isn't fresh. End of story. Call me spoiled, but being raised in Southern Ca and being married to a husband who goes fishing regularly, you get a little snobby about your fish. 

This stuff, I have to say, was legit.

Bali does fresh seafood right.

Wuxi zoo

Auntie Stephanie is here!

We've been busy showing her around our side of the world the last few days and look forward to a whole 'nother week with her before she has to head back Stateside. I think she will kiss the ground when she lands on US soil. Just kidding. She has acclimated and adjusted better than I would have expected someone who has never been out of the US other than Tijuana. She even mastered chopsticks while eating jiaozi with us tonight! (Go steph!)

Today was May Day, a national holiday.

NZ had today off, so we loaded up the car and headed to the Wuxi zoo, just outside of town.

We weren't sure what to expect of a Chinese zoo. Would conditions leave us feeling sad for the animals? What kind of animals would we see?

Lets just say that PETA would have a conniption fit at the "beast show" we watched at the central stage. Bears on bikes, dancing to Gagnam style, then jumping rope with their trainers...after that came lions and tigers, followed by monkeys riding bikes.

Sal showed some interest in a couple of exhibits, but for the most part, NZ, my sister and I made our way through the crowds ( Sal was quite possibly the most popular exhibit at the zoo), from habitat to habitat trying to get him excited for the lethargic looking rhinos, or the sad looking flamingoes who barely had a puddle to stand in.

Although the habitats could have been kept up better, and the crowds were a bit thick at times, we still had a good time walking the park and will probably go back when Sal gets a bit older.

Yep. A bear on a bike.

Giraffes

Forget the zebra. Check out the laowai.

Lingshan Buddha

We had the opportunity to get out of town (well, just the city-since technically we were still in Wuxi) for the weekend, so we packed our bags and headed to the Lingshan Buddha which is about an hour drive from here.

Seeing the big Buddha was something I have had on my list of places to see while we are living here. There are a lot of tourist attractions I could care less about, but the Buddha isn't one of them.

Although the entrance to the Buddha was quite crowded, once inside the grounds, there was tons of space to walk freely, which was nicer than what I'm used to. Usually at the tourist attractions, you're part of a herd of disorderly cattle whether you like it or not. We took Sal's new lightweight "travel" stroller that I purchased for an upcoming trip (Osaka--sashimi anyone?) and it was much easier for NZ to haul up the steps than our daily SUV sized stroller. He took the stroller, I manned the boy. There were too many steps to count, but I believe one of my expat friend's daughters counted, and it was in the ballpark of 270 stairs up to the Buddha. That's a lot of stairs to lug a stroller and a 24 pound kid up.

The sun was shining and although the typical Wuxi smog muddled the view, the landscape was beautiful. After months of living in a concrete jungle, to see such an expanse of greenery was a nice change.

Hitching a ride with dad

Touching the Buddha baby for good fortune

Many people hoping for good fortune

A meditating monk

Sal and Nick

The big Buddha

We had a wonderful time, and it is on our list of places to take our visitors. Not only is it a beautiful, mostly uncrowded tourist attraction-- it is also a really good workout!

My legs hate me today!

I don't know you

Ahhh, life in China.

It's getting the best of me this week.

More specifically, the culture is getting the best of me.

You see, there's this thing called guanxi.

Guanxi is the way of life over here. The definition is a bit convoluted, but a Cliff's note version is something like this " Guanxi refers to a network of social connections. From these relationships, favors are given, then reciprocated." This sounds good and all, if it's the "I'll pat your back, you pat mine.", but when it comes down to this, as a foreigner, I feel like we get screwed.

Basically, if I don't know you, and you don't know me, we don't owe one another anything. This is evident in the way Chinese use the checkout line at the market, the way they drive with no regard for anyone but their own car and destination, and how many do business. At the market, I often stand in line as we do in the states. Imagine my surprise the first time an old lady cut in front of me! I thought to myself, "how rude. Didn't she see me there?" The answer is yes. She saw me. But she doesn't know me. So she serves her needs first. She saw an opening in line and she took it. Each person for his/herself. Screw the laowai (me) that she doesn't know, and won't do her any favors.

So, yeah-it's crazy living here, not knowing enough of the language to establish better relationships with some locals. I usually patronize the same fruit lady week after week. Well, last week, as Sal and I are walking home from the market, I realize that she had just charged me the equivalent of $10 for what I considered to be $3-4 worth of fruit. I was livid. She took advantage of me. I got home and showed my ayi, and she agreed, I had purchased $3-4 worth ( I didn't tell my ayi how much I paid, as I had just spent a little less than a third of her weekly salary on fruit!). So much for guanxi with the fruit lady. She gouged us big time. The next time I went to the fruit market, I patronized her neighbor. You can bet she saw me, and in turn, yesterday when I went, she gave me a better price on my fruit to try and "keep good guanxi" with me.

My frustration has continued into today, as I sat and waited for a repair man for my washer/dryer machine. I was told yesterday he would come within 24 hours. This morning, I was told he would be here around lunch. He arrived at 10:30. I translated the error code to him (my dryer needs a new heating element) and showed him that the drying component of the machine doesn't get hot. I shit you not, five minutes later, he is trudging through the apartment to find me, toolbox in hand. I called my husbands assistant for translation, and he told her that he had finished his job.

No effin way.

There was no way it was fixed. I told him (with the translators help) I wasn't going to pay him until I had a chance to do a load of laundry (which, btw-takes four hours to wash and dry for anyone who cares). I said he would have to come back to get paid. He and the translator had a heated argument over the phone, to which I was told to pay him now and he would write on my fapiao (receipt) that he would come back free of charge if not fixed.

Reluctantly, I forked over all 30rmb ($5).

He scribbled in mandarin on the fapiao and left.

I threw a load in, and two hours later went to check on the process only to see the error code flashing, and my machine full of wet clothes.

And I know I have gotten off track but stick with me here- this all goes back to guanxi too. He doesn't know me, so why should he care about fixing my machine (other than its his JOB)? Besides, if he fixes it, then we won't need his service anymore and he might not have customers. It seems so ass backwards to me. He wants job security, so he DOESN'T fix it so that I have to call him back and pay again?

Yeah---NO. I don't think so.

So, this my friends, is my experience with being a laowai in China, with very little conversational Mandarin, and absolutely no guanxi with the locals.

Frustrating at best, but a learning experience all the same.

Finders keepers

Sal and I took a walk to buy produce this morning. It was sunny out, and he is recovering from pinkeye(s) so I thought a hat was in order. MY favorite hat of his was a splurge purchase our last night in California. I went to Quiksilver and snapped it up without even checking the price, which is totally uncharacteristic of me. I just had to have it for my boy. Anyways, Sal seems to love this hat too, so he's been rocking it lately. He wore it today, and got smiled and waved at even more than normal, because, you know-who can resist a little guy in a trucker hat?

He scored a banana--the usual-- from the fruit lady, and on our way home, we would stop every block or so for another bite. On one of our last banana bite stops, there was a little boy riding a tricycle in front of his home. His home was the ruins of an old apartment complex. His home had missing walls, windows and trash piles abound. I looked down at my son in his American clothing, eating his free banana in his snazzy stroller and I started to reflect on how much we have, the difference in living conditions even though we live just half a mile away, and how different my son's life is to that of this little boy that I am watching. I felt guilty for living so well.

We continued our walk, and stopped at the corner before crossing the street for a McDonald's chicken nugget treat. I looked down and almost cried. My son's hat was gone. Missing in action. Not on his head. G-o-n-e.

I backtracked my steps, knowing that it was last on while we took pictures of the little boy. I looked under cars, at curbsides, at kids walking by-no where to be found.

THE hat was gone.

We got our lunch, headed towards home, and I couldn't stop thinking about that hat. The loss of this silly material item was really bothering me...and then I felt bad...just minutes earlier I was feeling like we had to much, and here I was already thinking about ordering one from home as soon as I got home.

I bounce between these two thought processes daily. One-wanting to be more humble and minimal, and the other, so stuck in my American ways that I have trouble breaking free from placing importance on material items.

Perhaps one day Sal and I will pass some lucky little Chinese baby in a quiksilver hat. Instead of re-claiming it as ours, I think I will just smile because I know that baby probably needed it more.

A'walking we will go

On Saturday morning, Sal's fever finally broke and he was acting more like himself again. The weather was "nice" (read: not freezing and decent pollution levels) enough to get out for a walk. Our family has become quite good at walking. Maybe when we return to the states we'll try out for Olympic speed walking. We're definitely logging the miles here.

It's difficult to explain our life here, and just---how shall I say---"prison like" it can feel when we have limited access to a car. Yes, we have a driver, but as a rule, we don't hire him for the weekends. We're on our own for transportation. As a family unit, if we want to get out together, it has to be on foot due to our car seat situation for the boy. Even if we were to find a taxi with working safety belts, we would then be left to our own devices with a 21 lb. car seat to lug around once we reach our destination. Not exactly our idea of convenient or fun. Oh how I miss the days of the car seat carrier and snap in stroller frame.

Anyways, since walking is pretty much our only option aside from using our driver in his off hours, we have really gotten to explore our neighborhood. If we head out to the main road in front of our complex and hang a left, we can walk all the way to Starbucks, passing Xindi plaza which is full of wonderful Asian restaurants (our favorite jiaozi place happens to be there). During the nicer weather, Sal and I usually do this walk with the ladies and call it 5k Monday, which is really code for working-off-the-Starbucks-we're-about-to-throw-down.

If we head out the rear gate (which is closest to our building), we walk past a construction site of new apartments being built, a canal and a bunch of auto repair shops. If we go far enough , we end up at Shin City which houses a Tesco supermarket, Taste bistro (Australian owned), and the indoor playground that Sal and I often play at. On the walk towards Shin city, we pass more new apartments, a pirate ship themed outdoor park and an alley way to another produce market.

This past Saturday, we headed out the main gates and to the right. There is a new plaza that was erected in record time (4 months) full of stores aimed at westerners. It's about 2.5 kilometers from our place, so we thought it would be great to get out of our germ infested apartment for a while. I had been to the plaza with the ladies, but NZ had not. I was excited to show him around. We window shopped a lot, tried on some shoes, and bought a jacket. I am now officially well suited for the Chinese winter in a new Nike puffer jacket. It's so warm!

After getting a good dose of mall walking, we headed towards home and stopped at our favorite Muslim noodle room. It's across from the orphanage that sits right next door to our apartment complex. We probably get Muslim noodles 2-3 times a month, usually on Saturdays. There are four little girls who basically live at the restaurant while their parents work. They always run up to our spaceship looking stroller and want to use it, touch it, feel it. They talk to Sal, play pat-a-cake and peek-a-boo, and giggle amongst themselves at the little white boy. On Saturday, one of them was playing with a tattered yellow balloon. It was filthy.

Let me reiterate. F-I-L-T-H-Y.

Like, let-me-find-my-sanitizer-pronto filthy.

But she knew no different. It made me tear up a little to think of these four little girls, and their life as compared to our son's. Here this little girl was just pleased as punch with her dirty balloon, and one block away in a high rise apartment, this little American boy named Sal has toys and clothes to spare. It made me want to share some of our extras with them. I've got to ask around a bit before I do, as I don't want to offend anyone, or make some cultural faux-paux.

One thing I do know, is that those four little girls have melted my heart.