looking back {december in qd}

The last month has been a whirl wind...

packing up,

moving out,

long sad good-byes

Then ....

five days together as a family,

on the beach,

away from it all

Before heading out...

arriving for the last time @ Qingdao Luiting International Fei Ji Chang

lingering over our last meal in the Sailing City... from the our 21F vantage point above the harbor where in 2008 the world's best sailors convened for the Summer Games, and where later our Sailing Sisters learned the ropes (literally) of this aquatic sport

The last morning...

5:30 wake up call

Pick up by our "entourage" which included our former and current drivers and another colleague of their's that we have known from the beginning

Caravanning from the InterContinental to our home, one last time, to collect our remaining boxes ... then on to the home of our sweet Dutch friends who kept Miss Guinness for us in the final weeks ... and finally arriving at the airport with one way tickets to Chicago via Seoul .... Watching Mr Johnson and our three driver friends check in a mountain of luggage whilst the girls and I were joined by our sweet Saturday night ayi who created French braids down that back of each of head while dabbing away tears.

The Johnson's {Seaside} in Qingdao

We took these photos at the height of fall.

The ginko trees were turning yellow.

The grass was not yet brown.

We took them by the seaside,

with the dog

(which is prohibited, and we were so informed by a local bao an)

(He's the security detail who is not quite police)
He pedaled up on his moped and informed us "No Dogs @ the Beach."

Never-the-less, we snapped these in quick succession.

And they've made for some fun memories of glorious autumn weather in our fair coastal city.

The air is decidedly more crisp now. The air quality -- smoky and gritty.

We were assessed yesterday and it seems we are JUST-AT-THE-LIMIT!

We're full on sorting.

And dumping.

And packing.

It's life out of suitcases from here on out.

The next week will be intense, and there probably won't be much from the old bloggie blog.
So I'll leave you with some of our favorite memories and best smiles,

and see you on the other side of our pack-out!

Thanks for all your love and support,

from friends here and on the other side of the world --

at the place we will soon, once again, call home.

Cheers, Love, and Peace,

Sunny Sunday Morning

We had a rough night.

Bei Bei up in the night with croup.

The whole family with sore throats, itchy eyes and nagging coughs that don't seem to let up at this time of year in this dry, barren, late-autumn land.

This morning, after a cup of coffee, things seem brighter. In fact, they are so bright that EHJ and Bei Bei decided to bespectacle their faces with dark glasses while scrubbing six weeks of window markers off the windows.

It's sad to watch their master pieces streak down the pane.

Sad that tomorrow the "Moving Master" will come to assess our five years of accumulation, calculate how many days are needed to box it up, truck it out, and then put it on a slow boat from China.

Sad that I still have random piles. And stuff sitting out: The ant farm. The Elmer's school glue (see it there in the photo). Earrings I wore Thursday. The new credit cards Mr. Johnson is nagging me to activate. (And that's just on my computer desk!)

But for this morning, whilst I sit in my mis-matched pajamas, drinking the dregs of today's first cup of Sumatra extra bold, savoring the gritty bits that slipped passed in the French press, it's hard not to smile as I watch these two on a Sunny Sunday Morning.

** The blissful sweet moment just passed, as Bei Bei yelled from the other room, "Are we going to be ayi's all day long mom??

Naming Kate's Boy

Last week I met this beautiful baby, my sweet Korean friend's 3400 gram breast-fed boy. She asked me to give him an English name. A task which I found both endearing and daunting.

This is not the first time I've been asked to name a baby while living in China. Shortly after we arrived in China, I helped a random mom of a Chinese classmate at EHJ's Chinese kindy pick an English name for her son. I told her to call him Matthew since her son's Chinese name was Ma Tian (and because I've always loved the name Matthew).

Three years ago I helped my Chinese teacher come up with a name for her little Ya Xin ("x" in pinyin has a "sh" sound). I came up with Shania, not because of my love for country music, but because it incorporated the same sounds as her given name, and was easy to pronounce. My teacher also liked the name because it was unique. She has given herself the English name "Maggie," but later realized that "Maggie" is an oft claimed (though I think quite tasteful) name among Chinese women her age (As well as Jennifer and Rachel for the cult following of Friends, which -- along with Desperate Housewives --made a late debut in China and created quite a misconception of modern women in the United States!)

Chinese "English" names are often common nouns, numbers or worse, borrowed from Disney.

We have met: Ice, Knife, Apple, Hunk (he wasn't), Iceberg, Eleven, Seven, Cinderella and Snow White. We have also met people who took nice enough names, but which are impossible for most Chinese to pronounce. For example, Mandarin doesn't have a /th/ sound (so much for my giving that little guy the name Matthew the first year we moved here.) For most Mandarin speakers /th/ becomes /sh/, which of course makes a muddle of names like Arthur (which sounds like Arshur... which in turn sounds like er shi, the Chinese word for '20') or Cathy whom most English speaking Chinese turn into Katty as a way to either save face, or they truly believe that's the correct way to say the name since so few have mastered the /th/of Cathy.

It's different with my Korean friend though. My Korean friend, unlike my Chinese friends, has had exposure to Western culture outside of watching pirated DVDs of American television programs. Kate could easily find a fun and trendy Western name on her own. She's cosmopolitan... having lived in Canada and several cities in China. She has successfully created an English name for herself and her husband, which are both reasonable and durable names. They gave their daughter a thoughtful name that can be used in three languages (English, Chinese and Korean) with ease.

And now she asks me ... a mother of three girls ... to name her baby boy (a boy she herself was not able to give a Korean name, since that honor was claimed by paternal grandfather).

My friend is fashionable, stylish and comfortable in English. She speaks with a West coast twinge to her voice, and not a noticeable Korean accent. She wants a fun and trendy name for her boy, not William or Billy or Harry or James... some of the more popular English names Korean boys take.

And so in the end, I drafted her this email. But, truly in the end, it is really her choice.

Hi Kate,

I've been thinking about a fun English name for Min Seo.

I have always loved the name Matthew, which means the same things as Min Seo (most often the meaning for Matthew is 'Gift from God'). However, I think Matthew is a little common now, and sometimes the "th" sound is tricky for kids and non-native English speakers.

I found Matteo which is a Italian version of Matthew and kind of trendy. I also like the way it looks similar to Min Seo (starting and ending with the same letters.)

You could reduce either Matthew or Matteo to Matt as he gets older. Matt is kind of a cool name for a older kid :-)

As far as current popularity, of the top 1000 boys names in the US right now, Matteo ranks #454. It has gained in popularity since the 1990s, but you probably won't bump into a lot of other little guys named Matteo (as a "Jennifer" this appeals to me, since so many other people my age share my name.)

If you don't love the name Matteo, it's okay... he's your little bundle. I won't feel bad if you don't use it!

Love,

Jen

Waves

I'm finding that emotion comes in waves for me these days. Crashing and thunderous. Like the waves at high tide.

Sometimes I get welled up just seeing the beauty of the sun sparkling across the blue colored Yellow Sea. It's there again when I see the full display of fall colors against the backdrop of our limestone Laoshans.

This is the last season, for a long time (maybe ever), that I'll rise to the sound of the putting engine of an old wooden junk, motoring out for the morning catch; or the scratching sound of the simplest of brooms sweeping the sidewalk clear, before the morning rush of people will litter it again.

In momentary glimpses, I see the world around me differently. These sights, which threatened, during the longest days of expat experience, to become mundane, I am once again acutely aware of.

Listening to each syllable of a language that does not roll easily off my own tongue.

Noting each face.

Locking away in my mind the images.

The woman from the countryside sitting idly in the sunshine, the padded baby, sitting in her lap in quilted split crotch trousers and tugging at his momma's sweater for a drink.

A lorry laden with sweet potatoes, covered with homemade quilts to prevent distruction by frost, swaddled to prevent bruising.

Each image and sound byte tugs romanitcally at my heartstrings ... as if I am experiencing it for the first time. This wistful feeling rises and swells. Crests and crashes. And is whisked out to sea.

Look Mum, No Training Wheels!

The Staycation :: {Images} of Being Tourists in Our Own Town

The Staycation :: {Thoughts} on Being Tourists In Our Own Town

"We live here... we don't have to be tourists," one of our good friends once bemoaned to his adventurous wife, who sought every opportunity to get out and immerse herself in in Chinese culture.

We met this American couple and their spunky toddler the week we arrived in Qingdao, in February 2006. They had arrived just a few days ahead of us, and we bonded immediately.

It was easy to understand her husband's lament. The very first week, whilst the Johnson five where still sleeping off jet-lag in the apartment suite of their five-star-hotel, our plucky new American friends where braving coal dust skies, bitter temps, and the biting wind of the Yellow Sea along Qingdao's iconic symbol, Zhan Qiao Pier.

"It was like a sea of people just enveloped around us," my friend later regaled me.

To me at the time, I felt that everywhere I went in China there seemed to be a sea of people. And every time we ventured anywhere with our three blonde girls (all six and under at the time) we seemed swallowed up. I didn't know if I'd every fully share my friend's adventurous spirit. (Especially when a simple trip to the grocery seemed daunting enough!)

Over time we became more brave. We learned to tuck blonde heads under hats or hoods. We had our share of frustration and tears, unwanted photos, comments and attention. But we did eventually get out and see the sights and sounds around us... in Qingdao and beyond.

This week the girls and I headed to an older section of town. We toured Pi Chao Yuan, a food street famous for tasty morsels. We wandered among the food stalls, peeked into alley ways, chatted with vendors, and noted the architecture. We weren't swarmed. We weren't overwhelmed. Perhaps its not even fair to say we were being tourists, because it felt very much like we fit in.

When we finally settled in at a traditional courtyard restaurant (after sampling stinky tofu, spicy lamb skewers and hawthorn jelly) we actually saw one of our Chinese neighbors and exchanged friendly smiles and waves. We sat on traditional benches. Watched and listened to traditional Beijing opera (at ear piercing decibels!), and dined on spicy chicken (traditional style as it was served head, feet and all!). The girls favorite was the most traditional Chinese food of all: rice. They tucked into their 12 cent bowls, after working up hearty appetites sight seeing.

On this trip MGJ played "Tour Guide Barbie," she had been to this savory street with her class last spring and new the ins and outs of transactions. She read the Chinese characters on the wooden shingles of each shop. It was clear it was she who garnered the most respect from the shopkeepers for her dialog skills and navigation abilities.

We seem to have found a lifestyle and routine that does not often allow for trips down narrow alley

ways first carved out a century ago. Or jaunts to original buildings from the German colonial days.

It is, in part, of course, because we've already seen many of the "tourist sites" in Qingdao.

But also because we are simply busy with the business of daily life in QD:

Saturday morning soccer.

After school activities.

Playdates.

Homework.

Shopping.

But every once in a while it's good to play tourists in our own town.

Even if, as our friend suggested, we don't have to be tourists... we live here!

The Staycation :: In Phrases

A weekend get away at the Shangri La for Mr Johnson & the Tai Tai

(The three joining for swimming, sauna, & snacks on the 20th floor club lounge)

Playdates New Scooters

Seaside Walks Beach Side Scooting

Bei Bei masters the Two-wheeler

Art Projects 1000 piece puzzle

French Wine with Danish Friends

Introduction to Soju and SeolJoongMae by our Korean friends

Dining alfresco

Sleeping in Staying up late

Playing Tourists in our own town . . .

The Staycation :: National Day

Today is the National Day holiday here, marking 61 years since the founding of the PRC. Red flags with yellow stars flutter from every flag pole, in the grimy air, on this less-than-clear, warm, autumn day.

We usually get out of Dodge for this week. QD is a popular spot for domestic tourists, and the early days of October represent the last hurrah for our beach side community. Red capped inland tourists follow flag touting tour guides along the board walk, the Olympic Marina and Old Towne. And this year we joined them. Rather than hopping a jet out of here-- past highlights have included holidays in Sanya (2006), Phuket (2007), Singapore/KL (2008), and Krabi (2009) we joined the fray!

Today EHJ, Bei Bei and I rented a pedi-cart and peddled our way through throngs of tourists and locals. We delighted in circling around people who insisted on snapping photos after being asked not to... creating a sort of frolicking retribution that rendered offenders speechless.

EHJ and I did most of the peddling, and Bei Bei was our break girl. These bicycle based vehicles are designed around the kind seen at tourist spots in the West... but lack basic safety features, like breaks on all the pedals. One functional, though somewhat awkwardly placed break is found down the center of the frame, it required Bei Bei's standing on it with her full weight of nearly 50 jin to coax the cart to a stop.

Still not satisfied after 30 minutes spent weaving through pedestrians, we hired a motorized buggy and joined other renters (about $7 for a half hour with no instruction... just handed a key and off we backfired) terrorizing pedestrians along the board walk, pier, Olympic Marina and in the pedway of the newest high end shopping plaza.

All-in-all, not a bad way to pass the first day of our 10 day "stay-cation".

Twinkie Talk & Grocery Carts

There's a scene in my favorite chick flick, Steel Magnolias, where Shirley MacLaine's character Miss Ouiser Boudreaux lament's to Olympia Dukakis' character Miss Clairee about words she shouldn't have spoken.

"I shouldn't have said that," the spunky southern woman says as she navigates through the Piggly Wiggly with an open box of Twinkies in her cart.

"I shouldn't have said that... and I didn't mean it."

"Ouiser," Miss Clairee replies dramatically in her slow iconic Louisiana drawl, "Nobody pays any attention to you."

"But I feel bad," Miss Ouiser continues, "I'm an awful person."

"No you're not," her friend replies matter-of-factly. "You'd give your dog a kidney if he needed one."

And that seems to satisfy her crochety friend with a conscious.

Ouiser nibbles on a Twinkie, her faith restored.

Oh how I am in need of such absolution.

There are things I should not have said.

Things that come back to haunt me.

Words I said when I was tired or loney.

Things I said about living in China.

Last week it was me navigating my cart through the grocery. I picked up Mr Johnson's noontime call on my mobile, and heard the words that felt like a punch to the gut.

His program has been cut. Our time in China will draw to a dramatically quick end. He would have to sit on the details for 48 hours, until he notified his team. We would wait to tell the girls.

What a long, sad, hard week it has been.

He told his engineering team. We told our girls. We shared the news with our friends in QD.

Mr Johnson likens it to being @ your own funeral. Thoughtful texts, and phone calls have poured in. Sweet, tear-filled conversations. Honest words about the highs and lows of international living.

It has been one more reminder of just how rich our life has been here in friendships. How fortunate we have been to meet friends in China, both Chinese and other expats, who like us, are making a home, for a while, in a foreign land.

Despite recent quips to the contrary, I was feeling pretty settled back in QD. China is always more "do-able' when you're on the ground doing it, than somewhere else thinking about it. We were gearing up for the excitement the next two years would bring.

I have appologized to Mr Johnson for my words.

"Just for the record," I said, "You do know that I didn't really mean those things."

He said he understood.

Now, I just need Olympia Dukakis to indemnify me with some straight talk.

"Tai Tai Johnson," I need her to say with a sassy Southern accent,
"Nobody pays any attention to you. . . Now go have a Twinkie."

Rainy Day & Galoshes

Rain. It’s raining… again.We've had lots of rain since our return. Last week it was five days straight of 暴雨 (Bàoyǔ) which translates: torrential rain.

Torrential rain in QD runs down the sidewalks, and pools in the low spots in the road. It swirls around the storm drains, the volume of water so great, and its receptacle so small in comparison. But in between the bouts of heavy rain the sky was grey but clear. We could see the top of Mt Fushan, our urban mountain in the middle of our city, and in the distance we could see Lao Shan (the seaside mountains to the east). And when we looked out across the sea, we could see the horizon.

And, on the sixth day, when the torrents ceased, and the sun reappeared, the sky was brilliantly clear. The streets where so clean. The grass was a vivid green and sea was a perfect color.

Rain. Yes, I got splashed when walking down the street (like the poor two bit actor in the old Wisk commercial), when a passing car sprayed me with the contents of a deep trench of water. Yes it makes for muddy paw prints, and damp fur. It requires umbrellas, and rain coats. But when it rains, the girls also get to wear galoshes. (What our Brit friends call their wellies). And if there’s anything cuter, I’d like to know!