And on the 6th day they rested ...

Six nights in the Central Time Zone and our bodies are finally no longer attuned to the Beijing Standard Time.

A look at Jet-lag
Our nights began around 9 pm, when we'd fall into our guest beds exhausted, only to wake four or five hours later... completely awake... and completely aware that the darkness outside would shroud the Illinois countryside for another five hours.

We would tip toe to the kitchen and refill water glasses, root around in the enormous stainless steel Amana for a protein based snack (string cheese reigned supreme in our jet-lag routine.) Tip toe back to the room Mr. Johnson and I share, and pile into the queen size bed and enter the next phase of our schedule. Dramimine doled out, the girls peeled their cheese into strings, listened to a book or two, emptied up and then headed back to their beds for a restless, Dramimine induced slumber.

The worst part of jet-lag is the way it renders you unable to focus. You can be carrying along without incident, and then suddenly hit the wall: words slur or don't come to mind. But rather than feeling drunk its more like a hang over... there is no euphoric sense of high, just a the overwhelming sense that packing up and moving three little people to the other side of the planet might not have us lining up for parents of the year.

Especially since, Bea recently bemoaned she doesn't like flying on airplanes, "all the time!"

Fortunately for us this dislike of airtravel is quickly forgotten when she arrives at the airports. She knows the routine, and wants to do it solo. With her passport (in it's Mickey Mouse cover... a freebie from her kids pack in one of her other international trips this year) in hand, she steps up to the customs officer alone. Lifts her roller case onto the belt, and marches in the direction of our gate.

Our girlies have become pros, and no longer seem frustrated by the travel/jet-lag process.

They just roll with it, knowing what will come next. Knowing the next night will be a little better, and then next night better still, until finally some night (this time it was the sixth night) everyone rests a natural drugless sleep, filled with normal dreams, and a true appreciation of the softness of an American mattress and the even heat of forced air.

Being in "America"
The girls LOVE being in "America" as Bea has dubbed it. They are not keen to hit the grocery stores or shopping malls, to visit the doctor or really go anywhere outside of the property line of their grandparent's country home.

They love the cozy confines of Grandma's ochre walls. They rise early and read by the light of the glowing Christmas tree. The love getting lost in the walk-in pantry and sampling Western foods they have gone months without sampling.

Bea sat at the counter and studied her grandparent's ample kitchen.

"This is a really nice space," she said to me. My four year old cum interior decorator, analyzing the working triangle of an American kitchen.

"Eliza says you can drink water out of the faucet," she later told me. Looking someone skeptical, but also assessing that in a land with a refrigerator larger than our two Asian ones combined, and a place where toilet tissue can be flushed rather than lodged in the waste paper basket, anything could be possible. She sought my confirmation.

"You can here," I agreed, and then quickly reminded her that we'd have to go back to our other routines when we were back in QD.

They ordered up a perfect dousing of snow for our arrival, enough to sustain sleds and to roll into a perfect snowman when the weather warmed enough make the white stuff perfect for packing. When we ran errands their mantra included: Can we just go back to Bopa and Mema's now? They've become reaquainted with their cute cousins, the Johnson grands that are even blonder than our girlies. They've enjoyed the antics of Little J who is clearly no longer a baby, but instead a force of nature. Bea has bonded with J, both delighted with their pierced ears and partners in crime to escape the little buddy! They've unearthed the Barbies they've stored in Mema's basement, they've unleashed the dog they yearn for from China, and the tumble pell mell down the snowy banks with their tri-color collie at their side, the naked trees silhouetted with snow.

This morning Millie snuck into our bedroom for the Nikon, to capture the the beautiful sight of the back yard that slopes toward the gently rushing creek in the fleeting moments before dawn. She snapped off a bunch, then wandered over to the pantry to choose her American breakfast cereal.

24 hours to go

We're pretty much packed. The girls are done with their last week of school for 2009. We've doled out Christmas gifts to teachers, and charity gifts at school (this year was a great project matching up our international school with needy families in rural villages outside of QD... we were able to provide a winter kit for a 13 year old girl which included a new winter coat, hat, gloves, scarf, fleece sweatshirt (all of which she'll probably need to wear to school which is unheated, and at home which is also unheated.) For use in her home we got a blanket and food staples like rice, peanut oil, flour and laundry detergent for hand washing their clothes.) It was a great project for our girlies to participate in... and a good reminder of the many things we have to be thankful for... things we often overlook like central heating and warm cozy beds at night!

What is a TCK or 3CK?

I've gotten some interesting feedback from my post the other day. One thing I wanted to define for those not familiar with the term is that of a Third Culture Kid (abbreviated TCK or 3CK).

My cyber friend Global Gal pointed out that each of our daughters, after living abroad, could be considered TCKs. This is potential true for our older girls (MGJ has spent 2/5 of her life here and EHJ nearly 1/2) but certainly true at this point for our youngest who has celebrated all of her birthdays in Asia.

It's an interesting phenomenon that most people don't think about, but something we've found important to study up on after moving our kids outside of our culture.

Some authors now argue that it is not just children, but also their parents who live in this third culture which is neither the culture of their home country or the culture of the country they now live in. For more on this concept see the writings of Robin Pascoe over at the expatexpert.com.

Below is a literal a cut and paste from Wiki... but it seems pretty accurate.

Third Culture Kids or Trans-Culture Kids, (abbreviated TCKs or 3CKs,) whom are sometimes also called Global Nomads, "refers to someone who, as a child, has spent a significant period of time in one or more culture(s) other than his or her own, thus integrating elements of those cultures and their own birth culture, into a third culture".^[1]

Since the term was coined by sociologist Ruth Hill Useem in the 1960s, TCKs have become a heavily studied global subculture. TCKs tend to have more in common with one another, regardless of nationality, than they do with non-TCKs from their own country.^[2][3]

The composition of American TCK sponsors (i.e. the organization that sends the family abroad) changed greatly after World War II. Prior to World War II, 66% of TCKs came from missionary families and 16% came from business families. After World War II, with the increase of international business and the rise of two International Superpowers, the composition of international families changed. Sponsors are generally broken down into five categories: Missionary (17%), Business (16%), Government (23%), Military (30%), and "Other" (14%).^[4]

Source:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_Culture_Kids

Five little girls

This morning at our breakfast table there were five little girls 10 years and under, three of them five and under. They were chatty and sweet, eating Mr. Johnson's "pamcakes" (the endearning name the three-year-old in the group calls pancakes.) Two girls with brown locks, joining our three tow heads.

They had spent the night... after their babysitter pulled out last minute... their mother, my friend, had called in a favor. (The same friend I routinely call in favors too... the kind it makes it so easy to say, "yes" to!)

Of course there are no pictures... we were scrambling to get everyone out the door this morning in time for our 10:00 International Fellowship. The house has the tell signs of the events ...the remnants of a sleep over... from four little girlies playing dress up, dollies, and making the kind of general mayhem, the kind Millie can so articulate describe. But, she goes easy on them, because these two extra little sisters adore her- they tell her she is the best and biggest sister of all. Not bad, when you're a tweenager to have a cute following of fans!!

Choices & Time

"You and Sean have lots of decisions to make, deciding what offer to accept, looking at what the offers might mean for your future locations, etc. etc. It's nice to have choices and time to make your decision!"

a friend recently wrote, in an e-mail.

"It's nice to have choices and time to make your decision."

I re-read that line, and decided she was right. Of course she's right. She's been through an international move twice, is married to an engineer, and is in the process of beginning life anew in the US after her own second repatriation. She's not offering empty advice. They've been where we're at. And the perspective was nice.

I've been frustrated with the "time" factor, the general ideas of where we head next without the specifics of where that will be. North America, yes. Illinois, yes. Which plant? What job? Do we move back into our sweet little home in our comfortable flag waving community, or do we look for something more diverse? Is it better to be closer the weekend Chinese schools we'll probably enroll the girls in? Can we find a place where we can, if we want, find a variety of ethnic foods, and grocery stores that carry the things we've become accustomed to buying?

In part, I think we're mourning our existence here. Mourning it before we leave. Considering how it has defined us, and how it will color our future experience.

I've been away from the blog, because we've been busy, because the girls have had sniffles and fevers, because we're packing and shopping for our weeks in the States at Christmas, but largely because I don't know what's coming next exactly, and it makes me feel frustrated. This blog, afterall, in the Johnson's in China... a retelling of our days spent in a country and culture different from our own. But in a way its also the tales of our newfound country, and a culture we are finding increasingly comfortable.

Bei Bei recently informed me we live in English China. There are two China's she said. Chinese China and English China. She was in essence defining the concept of a "third culture" in her own four-year-old terms. Our four-year-old (who has no memory of living in the US... only visiting there) is a Third Culture Kid. She lives in "English China," where her friends come from all corners of the world, she answers questions in two languages, and she has a palate adjusted to prefer international foods over Midwestern comfort ones. No PBJ sandwich in her lunch, no boring turkey on Thanksgiving. Blue cheese or Bree with her mini spreader and crackers, don't forget the olives, Mom, she reminds me and complains that she doesn't want to share the pomegranate she picked at the grocery with her sisters.

--------------------------

My friend is right. We have choices, and time. Which for now means a certain level of uncertainty. It means when we land in Chicago for our Christmas holiday on the 13th we'll find ourselves reading from a script that goes something like this... "Yes next summer. No, not sure yet where. Probably, maybe, a little uncertainty. Yes we have time, and yes, we'll miss English China and Chinese China, more than anyone, besides maybe others who have had a similar experience, will ever understand."

A Chopstick/Fried Chicken Kind of Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving, to all our American readers just waking up to put on a pot of coffee and throw a dressed bird in the oven!

After a "normal" day - which included school, work, playdates, brunch with my friend and shopping, we were tonight a quiet, unassuming family of four. We spent our Thanksgiving dinner (sans MGJ who's away on her first over night soccer tourney) at the Crowne Plaza Qingdao. As we greeted other Americans at the buffet, I asked one woman, who was clutching chopsticks, if it was her first time to have shashimi on Thanksgiving. She laughed and said it was, but then playfully added that it probably wouldn't be her last!

Mr. Johnson and I feasted on all the traditional trimmings, and sampled a few international items as well @ the fusion Buffet. Bei Bei however, passed all together on the American fare, opting instead for a steaming bowl of jiao zi (Chinese dumplings, boiled Northern style) and a naan bread from the Indian corner. She greated the Italian chef with a cheerful "Ciao", then loudly whispered in my ear that she wanted to say hello in "Indian". By contrast, EHJ feasted exclusively on turkey and Brazilian BBQ (our seven year old might be svelte, but she's far from being a vegetarian!)

We finished our meal with a slice of pumpkin tart each, and a dollop of vanilla ice cream. Again, the girls departed from the traditional, opting instead for a chocolate covered banana and ice cream. Three hours away in Yantai, Shandong, MGJ joined her team for a meal of fried chicken @ KFC (her principal felt so bad when he realized she'd be away on Thanksgiving-- she's the only American on a team comprised of Brits, Koreans, HKers, and French-- that he promised he get her an American meal!)

Today I went grocery shopping for everything I need to prepare Old fashioned bread stuffing with apples and raisins, and Holiday sweet potatoes. On Saturday we will gather with several other families from Mr. Johnson's company, and have a Thanksgiving feast all over again.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Update: On Ms. Li's Dad (& more)

Ms. Li's father is home from the hospital. Taking it slow. Walking with the help of canes. Taking meds prescribed by the doctors.

He spent a little over 2 weeks in the hospital at a cost of 600 yuan (or roughly 87 USD) a day. Which, when you consider the average monthly income in China is about $200/month (and even less in rural areas, like where he is from), translates into a huge hit on their savings.

It changes your perspective a bit.

Mr. Johnson and I were recently watching the US Evening News, and learned of the massive recall of baby cribs underway in North America.

"The Chinese would think this is crazy," he said, when the panel of experts explained that, although there is a plastic clip available from the manufacturer to prevent the problem with the drop side, they recommend total replacement.

A US crib purchased @ a Wal-Mart in Anywhere, USA, would probably be equivalent to the monthly salary of an average Chinese worker. And even though the 1400 yuan they earn monthly would translate into greater buying power in the US (they can get more for their money here, than we could with is equivalent value in the US) its not likely they would even then see the benefit, especially if they could get the plastic clip for free.

The outrage in the US seems to stem in part from the fact that there has not necessarily been any safety testing done on children's products in the United States. I was a little startled by that fact as well. (Somehow I found the bit about the Maclaren strollers that can amputate a child's finger even more appalling than the risks with the drop sides, since most of the risk of the drop side stems from improper assembly).

But, in China, no one expects more of a product than what they see. So everything is tried out in advance. Buying a blender? The sales girl will assemble all the parts and plug it it and run it @ the store, because if you get home and find it doesn't work you don't have any recourse. There is no expectation that it will be as good it looks on the box, and no recourse or action to take if it isn't. Thus... you try on clothes, you plug in electric appliances, and do your own safety test in advance.

Bein' American

Going to pick up the girls’ new passports from the US embassy in Beijing was, in part, the impetus for our Mid-November trip.

It’s always something I find fascinating about Beijing… being in the general embassy area… with flags of all countries announcing each individual Embassy … the serious, stone faced guards who stand at attention outside. The whole world condensed into a few blocks of a city.… It seems you could play on loop the the soundtrack of It’s a small world after all on these avenues and street corners: the globe within one city district.

But, to my surprise, I found quite another song running through my head.

When we rolled up to the US Embassy, I was amazed to see just how many people where thronging around the perimeter of the building. With thermoses of loose green tea to warm hands and souls, and exhausted newspapers tucked under their arm, they were waiting… each one of them nervously waiting… for someone else who was waiting inside to apply for a visa to the US. The number of people inside… queuing with bundles of paperwork, and somber, serious faces, was equally staggering. When we looked down from the second story, where we were efficiently in and out of American Citizen Services in about 10 minutes, we saw the line slowly snake forward. Mr. Johnson asked the cleaning lady about it, and she told him every day the line was this long. Many people would have to go home and come back tomorrow.

Maybe it was these images of people so eager to get into my passport country, or maybe it was just the sight of the Stars and Stripes unfurled against the unnatural color of the Beijing sky, but I found myself humming. (Side note: I often find myself humming. My kids are frequently irritated that I have a tendency to break into song, or hum… especially if I’m using it as a device to help them memorize something… but in my defense it works… Spelling words, Christmas pieces, Bible verses for Sunday school, and most recently all 50 of the United States put into a made-up song.)

But I wasn't humming the Maine, New Hampshire & Vermont song (what Bei Bei has dubbed our song of the 50 states—the one she now requests at bedtime… which leads me to believe only 2/3 of my children find this habit of mine irritating!)

Shortly after I snapped the above picture of our three daughters under the emblem of Embassy of the United States of America, I was humming, I realized, I’m proud to be an American. From where in my subconscious I pulled this is unknown… I do remember my parents owning and playing this song on a cassette tape of patriotic music (the cassette had a quartet of men in 1980s mullets and matching sweaters).

Again, maybe it was the sight of our nation’s flag, flown freely on a flag pole in the heart of Socialist Beijing. Maybe it was realizing the ease at which we flashed our passports and gained access to the building. Maybe it was simply the overwhelming number of people hoping to also gain legal access to our country.

I’m NOT partial to country music, the word “ain’t”, Palin-like nomenclature that is inclined toward “droppin’ the ‘g’” off the end of words with ing endin’s, or throwing around “lucky stars,” or “God Bless the USA” in a NASCAR context. But, that smoggy day, under the coal dust skies of Beijing, those were the words that accompanied the music, which came to my mind, in front of the Embassy of the United States!

If tomorrow all the things were gone, I’d worked for all my life.
And I had to start again, with just my children and my wife.

I’d thank my lucky stars, to be livin here today.
‘ Cause the flag still stands for freedom, and they can’t take that away.

That I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free.
And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up, next to you and defend her still today.
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land, God bless the USA.

--Lee Greenwood, circa the early 1980s

A Camel & More Wall

According that well known source, Wiki:

The Bactrian Camel is a large even-toed ungulate native to the steppes of north easternAsia. It is one of the two surviving species of camel. The Bactrian Camel has two humps on its back, in contrast to the single-humped Dromedary Camel.

Nearly all of the estimated 1.4 million Bactrian Camels alive today are domesticated, but in October 2002 the estimated 950 remaining in the wild in northwest China and Mongolia were classified as critically endangeredon the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species.

A Snowy Wall

Beijing in November

When I saw the kids fall break was the second week of November, I decided it would be the perfect time to head to the capital and do the Wall as a family. We, of course, have made several trips to the Great Wall of China over our years in the Middle Kingdom, but only twice before as a family unit... first in April 2006, when Bei Bei was nearly one, and then later than summer with Mr. Johnson's folks, in July and @ the height of summer traffic.

We've made various other trips, to various sections, whenever family members come to visit. Mr. Johnson once made the trip in the fall, and the colours were so breathtaking, I thought it would be a perfect time to schedule our own autumnal visit as a family unit.

To our surprise, we arrived in BJ with snow. We hiked a snow covered wall. We traipsed through the Bird's Nest and Water Cube complex skirting piles of the white stuff which had been carefully swept into neat piles. We donned hats, mittens, and full on winter coats to go to the dirt market ... in November!

Not quite what we had in mind for a fall get-away, but a nice long weekend never-the-less!

And the Winner Is...

Congrats, EHJ!

The pin reads "Student Council Member." For the record, She is taking her role very seriously! She has a notebook she carries with her at all times, and at recess she records requests and concerns of her classmates.

Update

Mr. Zhang's father in law is still in the hospital. He was scheduled for an operation on his neck this afternoon. The operation will cost a lot. That was the point that the doctors seem to drive home more than the benefit of the surgery. The driver who struck him, it turns out, was driving a private vehicle, a mian bao chi (literally translated... a loaf of bread vehicle... because these little micro vans look a lot like a loaf of bread.) He paid them some money, but apparently not enough to cover the required surgery.

The Chinese are fabulous savers. They put us to shame really. Unfortunately, they have to be. Because if someday you get hit by a bread shaped van the decision of whether or not you have surgery on your neck depends on just how much money you've tucked under your hard mattress over the years.

Surviving in China

This article by James Fallows is floating around the blog sites I follow. Its a great piece I highly recommend. It was referenced mostly due its addressing of air quality (or lack there of) in major Chinese cities. After reading my cyber friend Donna's blog, it made me re-think our Beijing trip this weekend. But, the article also addressed traffic safety, something I've made not-so-vauge reference to on this blog in the past.

.... Yesterday I did my normal Monday morning routine of running... the cupboards were bare, so the tai tai tried to be creative and thrifty in what she bought since 1.) Mr. Johnson is gone for several days and 2.) we'll be leaving for Beijing soon. I took the bus to Jusco where I had some pics developed for (spoiler warning) the great grandmas Christmas gifts. (Lucky for me, I don't think any of them actually can access the blog on their own) and then headed to my favorite Korean grocery for fresh produce, imported milk, and bread. I called the driver to see if he could swing by and pick me up on his way from getting Bei Bei @ school. (I love to take the bus to the store, and love to have a private car service pick me up!!)

He met me @ the local Korean coffee shop where I nipped in for a white mocha to warm me from the bone chilling wind that swept up overnight. I jumped in the van, and answered we could head home when he asked where to next. After I drop off the groceries, though, I told him, I had a few more errands to run.

"Can you do them tomorrow?" he asked me, most uncharacteristically.

"Um, yeah..." I replied, thinking of the growing number of clothes that required a button here or a stitch there that I was hoping to run to the tailor, they had been waiting for weeks, another day wouldn't hurt.

But still, I was curious why he would ask.

"Ni you shi, ma?" Do you have "some matter" (the generic, non-prying way of asking what he has going on without asking what he has going on.)

And then he told me: His wife's father was struck by a taxi that morning. He over-smiled to keep from tearing. His voice was shaking. He only told me because I had asked. They didn't have many details. His wife was already waiting for him at home. His driving company had offered him use of a small Buick sedan to make the 90 minute drive to his wife's hometown. None of it sounded good.

I told him all of my "shi"could wait until next week. I told him Mr Johnson can find another way home from the airport tomorrow night. I told him he should go and be with his wife. She needed him. I pressed some cash into his hand and he left. I haven't heard from him since.

Our Driver, Mr Zhang with his wife Mrs. Li and our girlies

Election Day

Tomorrow is Election Day.

Don't forget to Vote.

And as they say in Chicago:

Vote early and often!

Frustrating Fog

Early this morning Mr. Johnson packed three pressed and folded dress shirts into his carry-on shoulder bag, sneaked into the room next to ours where three tussled blond heads shared one big bed (their weekend routine). He kissed them, kissed his tai tai, and then headed out into the murky darkness with his fingers crossed. Hoping against hope, that the fog wouldn't win. But deep down in our hearts we already knew that in QD, the fog always wins.

His flight was scheduled for 8:30 a.m., but they left early to ensure enough travel time to get to the airport. On many foggy days, the high speed road closes, and alternate, longer routes are needed. He made it to the airport. The flight, as suspected was delayed. This was both a good and a bad thing.

Mr Johnson's Chinese colleague who was to make the trip to Korea with him today was fogged out of QD last night... his flight from a city further north canceled. He formulated a quick plan that included an all night train ride, a quick dash to his apartment in QD to get his passport (with the all important, and surprisingly difficult to obtain visa for South Korea). His train arrived in QD @ 7:30 in the a.m., on the wrong side our city filled with damp, coastal fog. He made it to his apartment ... to the airport even, and because of the delay was still able to actually still reach Mr. Johnson by mobile phone. Mr. Johnson was on the plane, and pleaded with the airline staff to wait for his colleague. They were willing, but their counterparts at the gate, not so much. They closed the cabin door and pushed back ... leaving Mr. Johnson's travel companion scrambling to find a way to meet up with him in Busan, South Korea by this evening.

Its our first frustrating fog story of the season. But, there will be more. This is Qingdao, beautiful sailing city by the sea... a city blessed with beauty and cursed each year by coastal fog from November to March.

Thailand

I stalled out on our last Holiday pics, it takes FOREVER with this VPN to load (for example I started uploading these before my Chinese class this morning, and when I returned they were posted!) So, here are some from the boutique resort... really a chill little place with stellar views, small but adequate pools, fabulous on-site restaurants, and of course... as previously noted... the honeymoon suite!

And for the record... yes.. these are for the Christmas card!!

Krabi, Thailand, October 2009

Suitcases and Rubbermaids

Last weekend I packed for Hawaii. We're not heading to the island where palm trees sway until early January, but I wanted to put together our favorite warm weather ensembles before we trading out the summer/fall clothes for the bulky winter ones.

This is Mr. Johnson's least favorite event. It makes him nervous. He feels stressed to see piles of girls clothes, a medley of color, season and size sorted into various piles, traded out from Rubbermaid bins, and outgrown numbers either passed down if it seems the next younger sister would be interested, or passed on to someone else. It's not a delicate process, or a quick one. We have had bags lining our upstairs hallway for the better part of two weeks, as we sort into donate piles. He is in no way involved except for the schlepping of rubber maid containers from our garage to the upstairs bedrooms, but it still leaves him uncomfortable.

Strangely, the suitcase packed for Hawaii, which will remain parked on our bedroom floor underneath a drying rack designed for drip drying sheets, doesn't seem to phase him. Suitcases he can handle, Rubbermaids, not so much.

Some day I will become brave and post a picture of our bedroom. Its a huge space, with a large bathroom. It has the blond bedroom set purchased for our use by our lovely landlady (who btw had the toilets successfully repaired!) which includes a large king sized bed, two night stands, and large wardrobe that looks like something out of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. The walls are a pale pink, and we have views of the sea. Not bad. Except that our bedroom also doubles as our laundry room, and our storage space, and... on our small enclosed patio is a clothes dryer which is vented out an open window. (We use our dryer very seldom... largely because it has two settings... on and off. Nothing for delicates, or perma press. But its perfect for towels and undies. Everything else gets hung on the clever Chinese drying racks preferred by almost every Asian nation. I smirked this last month when Real Simple introduced a clever clip rack for drying socks and delicates in their laundry issue... they are standard in every home in China!)

So, the suitcase isn't troublesome to Mr. Johnson, because at this point he's gotten used to the eclectic look of our boudoir. But I think another reason is that travel has become such an important part of our life here, and really something that we look forward too. That suitcase is symbolic instead of a nuisance. It will remain a happy reminder of our upcoming trip to the archipelago that is the US's 50th state.

In the meantime, we'll be putting our other cases to good use as well. Mr. Johnson is heading to Pusan, South Korea on Sunday, and then our family will head to Beijing for a long weekend next Thursday. At the beginning of December we'll load up our Christmas presents and warm coats and pack even more cases for our Christmas trip home, our first time in the States for 18 months.

Suitcases or Rubbermaids? Suitacases... hands down!

International Day

My big girls were assigned to Argentina. My wee lass was from the Scottish highlands!

Such a fun day for everyone!! And great food @ the international buffet. I was sadly assigned to help in the Japan room, where our task was origami (the ancient art of paper folding which actually originated in China... along with paper!) I'm rubbish at paper folding, but by the end of the day I could successfully help the kiddos create a crane with wings that actually flapped!

Monster Mash Party

Our Monster Mash Party:

• We cued a fun soundtrack of old creepy tunes for our dance party (our girlies and MGJ's good friend from Korean busting a move to Purple People Eater, Monster Mash, and Werewolves of London)
• Carving pumpkins
• Watching Wizard of Oz by the light of glowing jack-o-lanterns
• Gluttonously diving into plates full of sugary Halloween Peeps (thanks to the McCarthy-Lasondes in Chi town) and chocolate cupcakes garnished with candy corn we picked up in Malaysia last month.
• In addition to pumpkin carving, we introduced MGJ's friend to other fall favorites: chili and cranberry cornbread and of course Its the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown.

All in all... a very successful Monster Mash!

Expat Halloween Party

Its one of those events that makes you feel like you're doing something normal. That despite the fact that you live on the opposite side of the globe, your kids are getting some exposure to their home "culture." Except, that, perhaps its better. When you're far from family and friends you hold traditions dearer. Halloween wasn't such a big deal for us at home. We trick or treated at the neighbors, left a big bowl of candy on our front porch with the porch light on, and headed to the local fire department for chili with the community.

Here its morphed into more of a family event. We do make our obligatory appearance at the Expat Party... that frenzied event when kids and adults assemble in whatever costumes they are able to scare up in China. Lots of witches, and a few really creative over the top ensembles, and many of the classic fuzzy uniforms that have been schlepped to China, eating up valuable suitcase space, all for the few hours kids gather together in costumes that invariably become too hot!

We had a nice 90 minutes at the party before heading home for our own Monster Mash.