Nature

Wildlife

We live in a city of 3 million, so when several weeks ago EHJ claimed to have seen an animal in our back yard that looked like a brown ferret, I feared the urban worst: rats. But today I glimpsed the same animal... ginger colored in fact, and with Ayi's help, determined it was a huang shulang (yellow weasel.) I did a few quick google searches and found that these tenacious little guys live in the Beijing hutongs, in populated Shanghai, as well as, apparently our very own QD. Rather cool to have a wild animal scurry through our yard I think.

We have other "wildlife" invading at our back door in the form of ants.

"Hey, Mom, I'm just watching the ants," Bei Bei just called over to me.

Then reported, "They're in a group!"

And then, as afterthought added, "and that stuff looks like pee."

That 'Stuff' is the dregs of an awesome ant killer my dear friend Kay imported from the UK and bequeathed to me upon their repatriation. We get ants every year about this time, and thank goodness we'll be Stateside this time next year, because I've just run out of Miss Kay's magic potion!

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Gardening

Our complex is looking tired. The grass is overgrown. It gets nearly knee high, starts going to seed, and then is shaved off withing an inch of its green life by the team of gardeners. We've opted for our own lawn maintenance in our backyard garden and we've enjoyed the time we've spent out there.

EHJ is my champion helper in all things garden related from bargaining for and selecting the best plants, and deadheading and weeding in the months that follow. Last week my friend Carla gave me two sunflower plants that she stared on her 19 floor balcony. EHJ helped transplant and water them.

Nothing's Gonna Change My World

Around 8:00 this a.m....

Long after the big girls left on the school bus.

After her daddy had walked out the door to his office.

After I had sent several last minute e-mails to my editor (we go to print this afternoon) and had my first cup of coffee...

I heard the patter of bare feet coming down the stairs. Our four-year-old emerged as a tussled bed head toting an empty paper towel roll she was using as a microphone.

"Nothing's gonna change my world" she crooned into her cardboard mouthpiece.

I think tomorrow morning's 6:30 wake-up call (and the subsequent 7:30 bus ride) just might.

The Dog Days of Summer

You know the expression: Its so hot you could fry an egg on the sidewalk? I've got a better one. Its so hot you could boil water on the roof. It's true. Today we did. Our solar heated hot water tank, mounted on the roof of our five-storey apartment building actually registered 99 degrees C (I think it would have been 100 C --which for all you American readers is boiling on the Centigrade thermometer-- except that there are only two digits allotted the temperature reading on the digital thermostat in our laundry/bathroom.)

It was hot. And it made me twitchy. Being outside in the bright sunlight was not horrible, but being in close quarters with throngs of people in today's weather was.

So ...

now that I'm back home in the a/c,

with my house impeccably clean, thanks Ayi (by-the-way I actually busted her re-making my bed this a.m.!)

and just half an hour before I get my big girls home,

and as a whole weekend stretches out before us ...

I no longer am experiencing the angst that was mine earlier this hot afternoon when I ventured to Jusco with Bei Bei.

The impetus of our trip was to get her six passport-size photos for her application for the Early Childhood Education program @ YCIS.

The driver didn't get my text about what time I needed him, so we took the bus (which I find rather enjoyable, as does Bei Bei, but it did make our afternoon longer.) We alighted from the bus on the opposite side of the street from Jusco, separated by eight lanes of Chinese traffic. To cross safely, we used the underground pedestrian tunnel which is a bit grim, especially in the dog days of August when the stench of urine in the corners and a plethora of other unpleasant smells mingle in the passageway several meters below street level.

Emerging on the other side of the street we navigated through a literal construction site, again accosted by the stench of human waste. The construction workers live in canvas tents just outside the perimeter of the on-going construction which butts up against the sidewalk leading to Jusco. The workers' latrines are the primitive kind, which is to say there are no proper toilets at all.

(Can you imagine actually living in a canvas tent, sleeping beside the sweaty people you have worked beside 12 hours a day, together combating fatigue, body odor and the tenacious Qingdao mosquitoes? I have peered into their open tent flaps at night and watched as they stir fry meager meals on a hot plate, smoke and read on tiny bunks (ensconced in dirty mosquito netting) by the light of a dim naked bulb. It's a dismal life to be sure, and if my nostrils are offended by a quick stroll by, how much worse if the same location is your semi-permanent address.)

There used to be a much larger pedestrian area outside the side door of JUSCO, beside the bus stop and near the exit of the underground tunnel. There you could find little ones practicing their roller blades, old people chatting, vendors setting up on blankets and beggars laying on cardboard or inside garbage bags.

Some of this is still there. But because of the construction, it's all smooshed together. Pedestrians. Vendors (funny to sell both puppies and sunglasses in the same location, I always privately muse). Beggars... the old, the young with babies, the one with a numb where his leg should extend from his knee. They were listless and lethargic in the hot, putrid air.

We dodged vomit on the sidewalk. I looked down at Bei Bei's cute blue toe nails and bedazzled Barbie flip flops and marveld they remained relatively clean.I could hardly breathe. It was just that hot. It was nearly too much.

Inside we passed all kinds of hot people, especially children, striving to be cool. Little boys in baggy camouflage pajamas, babies naked from the waist down, a chubby nine-year old in a mu mu. One nai nai (grandma) was perched on a piece of newsprint on the floor beside her sweaty grandbaby asleep on a bench. We went up the escalator and into the Kodak Camera shop where none of the four employees were motivated to assist us.

Bei Bei posed on the stool where she would have her head shot done and I stood by the register hoping to get the ball rolling. You pre-pay for nearly everything. So I stood with my 25 yuan at the ready for the sheet of eight photographs we would buy. A girl sauntered over to take my money, and then... to my disbelief went back to the mirror by the photo area and continued to squeeze facial blemishes. I was hot, and irritable and asked not one but two people to please take my daughter's photo. I waved my yellow receipt as proof of payment. And someone went to get the camera. Then put it down. The second person I asked finally snapped off three digital pics of Bei Bei and we were done.

We marched down to McDonald's (I'd bribed her out of our air conditioned home and away from Polly Pockets, with the promise of a Happy Meal.) I let her order an ice cream. I let her eat the ice cream FIRST! We left the din of McDonald's and headed next door to the more demur Starbucks (ignoring the sign disallowing food to be brought in.) I ordered an iced tea and we sat together and talked about school. We chilled. I cooled off. We went and got her pictures. They are adorable. My baby is doing a trial run @ the International school next week. Maybe it will be cooler then.

The Fish Bowl

Cleaning the giant fish bowl in our back garden is a big task... one that needs to be done frequently.

To combat the pesky alley cats who love to feet on fresh sushi (aka our goldfish) this year we submerged water plants in the fish bowl to offer the fish a chance at survival. They have proved a great hide-out for the fish, and also serve as lunch (the fish feast on their roots.) The plants are partly responsible for the briny water... they turn the water greenish. The other culprits in the brackish water are the well fed fish whose contributions fester at the bottom of the huge ceramic bowl.

So our project goes something like this . . .

1.) Fill a bucket of water and let it warm in the sun

2.) Transfer six (or more) slippery, splashy gold fish to said bucket

3.) Remove the water plants

4.) Dump briny water from the fish bowl (better with two people... but in Mr. Johnson's absence I have been know to tip the large sloshing mess off the side of the pedestal and hope for the best. Anyone within splashing distance better be wearing galoshes!)

5.) Spray and scrub the ceramic bowl

6.) Refill the fish bowl with fresh water

7.) Spray off the water plants

8.) Replace six (or more) slippery, splashy gold fish in the ceramic bowl

9.) Replace water plants

10.) Marvel at the girlies who have stuck with me through the process!

First Day of School

Ode to the Ayi

I'm always hesitant to write about having a helper who comes to our home daily to help with everything from child care to laundry and the sundry of chores in between.

If you have not lived abroad ... aka in a country where you don't speak the language and the forecast sometimes reads 'wide spread dust' you might think its an absolute luxury to have 30 hours a week of help.

Conversely, people who have lived in Asia for long periods of time sometimes become jaded. I've read horrible blogs about "lazy house help" and their "stupid" ways...

So... since people from home marvel and people here have grown apathetic, "The AYI" remains a difficult subject to address.

In July we found ourselves in a precarious predicament. Our ayi of 3 1/2 years was ready to move on. For whatever reason, she was ready to take a break, and unfortunately for me that break was scheduled right as my in-laws were to arrive. 3 1/2 years is a long time. She knew our kids well. She knew intimate details of our lives, many of which, thankfully were left unaddressed due to a wonderful combination of a large language barrier and her blessed gift of discretion. We had shared recipes, parenting tips and exchanged Christmas gifts.

3 1/2 years is longer than some marriages last, and yet there we were on the sunset of our relationship and found I felt awkward and yet free. We ended on an odd note of, "its not you its me," and while I don't think she was seeing someone behind my back (she claimed to have no work lined up, and even asked, with a glimmer of hope, if I could help her find some in the future) it was a weird ending to a relationship that had in its higher moments had bolstered our opinion about living in China.

We now have a new ayi who wants us to literally call her Ayi. She entered our lives seamlessly and despite bad timing --for two days whilst MIL and FIL where here I had two full time helpers!-- they overlapped so that the exiting one could show the new one the ropes. Only... she knew the ropes, and the tricks, and politely told me not to make my bed because she just had to remake it anyway. She jotted on a piece of scratch paper the kind of toilet cleaner she required. It's cheaper, she said, but better (fearful that all foreigners believed that expensive = best.)

Now we find ourselves climbing into bed at night onto sheets you could bounce a 5 mao coin on, and we rest our head on ironed pillowcases. She's not better than the old ayi, just different. And while I had feared the worst... months of "training" a new helper, she jumped right in and it now seems like she's been here forever. She brings the girlies ice cream bars or other small treats, insists on eating food from home. She offers her opinion, chats and tells about her family, and somehow has blended right in as a part of our own.

Three Days

Three Days in Shanghai this week with my girlies (lots of fun! came home with lots of laundry)

Three Days ... the length of time Bei Bei has had a high fever, we are zooming through our stock of Children's Motrin

Three Days... the number of days left of summer vacation