Monster Mash!

Like everything else in China, Halloween has its own special twist. We promised the girls a Monster Mash party for Halloween night:

Halloween loot bags (from mema) filled with gummy nerds and candy corn (from Bowlers).

Bea and I decorated with orange & black balloons and the limited supply of creepy decor we keep hidden away for this night. (This is our third Halloween in China!!)

We decorated cupcakes (again with supplies courtesy of our friends and fam in the States.)

We bobbed for apples (Millie proved the tenacious winner.)

We introduced the girls to Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin.

We found hard, impossibly small pumpkins that we decided to decorate with Sharpies (or felt-tips for those reading in the UK or Oceania!)

And of course... had a monster mash dance party!

They did the mash
They did the monster mash The monster mash
It was a graveyard smash They did the mash
It caught on in a flash They did the mash
They did the monster mash
Bobby Boris Picket

Hint:

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How Does an American Dress?

We recently celebrated International Day with Millie and Eliza @ Yew Chung International School. Except for the fact they had to board the bus on a Saturday morning @ 7:20, like a normal school day, they thought it was great. (It probably helped that Sean helped rally the red, white and blue spirit with tunes varying from The Boss' Born in the USA to Neil Diamond's Coming to America!!)

The idea of international day is of course to celebrate the diversity of culture with in our international community in China. They kids were all supposed to wear their national dress, which leads us to the question: How does an American dress?

When Millie and Eliza arrived @ school they were divided into multi-age teams with a country theme for each team. Eliza and her teammates sported togas for the Greek Team, while Millie's Team Mexico donned ponchos.

Not to be left out... Bea wore an Americana themed dress and we all enjoyed the international buffet when we joined the girls at school at lunchtime. We sampled Korean bulgogi, kim chi and noodles, German schnitzel, Lebanese hummus, and European breads and desserts. What did the American Johnson’s contribute, you may wonder? Brownies and Pepperidge Farm goldfish. Because … here’s another question? … What is “American food”?

A Sad Story

The New York Times ran a story today about Chinese eggs in Hong Kong. The eggs tested with high levels of melamine. The eggs came from Dalian, a coastal city in the North of China. The melamine contamination came from the feed the chickens ate. There is a general concern that chickens in Dalian are not the only animals in the mainland being served up melamine meals.

Today I went to Metro for my once-every-three-weeks stock up. I spent 2400 yuan (roughly $350 USD, or what our driver makes in three months.) My bill was dramatically higher than normal because I exclusively bought imported cheese, milk, yogurt, granola bars and other snacks.

After talking with ayi this afternoon we decided organic eggs might be the best way to go. Those chickens eat worms and bugs rather than traditional feed. But, she added, they cost a lot more. (I was trying to get the image of the wooden trays of writhing worms out of my head… the trays we see along pet street where the bird sellers squat on tiny stools and listen to their birds sing.)

The melamine crisis for us has meant a little more effort in shopping, and a greater grocery bill. The melamine crisis for others in China is dramatically more life altering.

This is the sad story:

The family of a migrant worker loses their infant after spending the equivalent of several years of wages to find out why he can no longer pee. The doctors they take him to are baffled by his condition. He dies. They mourn by not mourning. They destroy every memory they have of him save a single photograph and a tin of Chinese formula. They think their six-year-old daughter has forgotten him, but instead she cannot get him off of her mind. Theirs is the story of the melamine problem in China. And there are so many others like them.

Please read this article from the NY Times:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/17/world/asia/17milk.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=Yi%20lawsuit&st=cse&oref=slogin

The Story of our Yesterday

Rain Rain Go Away…

It started as a sprinkle in the morning.

When Bea and I stepped out for playgroup at 10:00 a.m. we did not take an umbrella. We would not have needed one anyway. The sky was overcast, but little more than a hint of moisture misted our faces.

When I went to get Millie from the bus at 4:00 p.m. the streets were pretty wet, and the temperature had dropped. When my Chinese neighbor pulled up in her trendy BMW SUV and told me to jump in the passenger seat I quickly took her up on the offer. Our kiddos soon arrived on their respective school buses. Millie and I shared my big umbrella on the way home, and carefully avoided the smooth tiles in our complex that become especially slick when wet.

An hour later, when I went to collect Eliza from the late bus (every Tuesday she has art after school) the weather had changed even more dramatically! The wind had picked up, the streets where gushing with water, and everything had swirled together in the rain-clogged streets. I was wearing my rubber flip-flops and was risking a serious case of “China Toe!”

It seems, Qingdao’s civil engineers sought to use the slopes in our hilly city as a cost saving measure. To minimize the number of storm drains, they simply put them in the lowest spot, which creates a nasty mess in the overloaded drains. It also turns potholes into swamps, and streets into rivers. It turns the simple task of retrieving a child like venturing into a monsoon.

Eliza’s bus arrived promptly, for which I was glad, as this time there was no cozy BMW to wait in. I popped open her small umbrella and we ventured home, a task that rendered me totally soaked. The dubious water underfoot had wicked up my linen pants, so that the fabric was literally wringing wet by the time we got home. We made an unlikely pair: I sported the over-grown drowned rat look, while Eliza channeled the cute girl on the Morton salt shaker, with her proper striped uniform skirt and her small umbrella perched jauntily on her shoulder.

When it rains it pours…

I am usually quite up for a good rain storm. I love the thunderous booms and bright flashes of light. I love when we get a good drenching rain in Qingdao, as we, in reality, get them infrequently. The grass greens up. The streets appear cleaner. The dirty water finally finds its way down the storm drains.

I am not, however, up for thunderstorms when my husband is scheduled to fly home after two days away on business.

When the phone rang at 9:30 p.m., long after the girls had tucked in for the night, I was pleased to think Sean had touched down at the airport and that he’d be home within the hour. What he called to say instead was, that his plane had indeed touched down, but he was in Jinan, not Qingdao. The rain was too heavy and Qingdao International could not approve their landing. To make matters worse, his phone’s battery was low. He would call when he could.

He finally arrived at the Qingdao airport after mid-night, and arrived home after 1:00 a.m. It had taken him 12 hours to get back home. In one day he had traveled by taxi from Yangzhou (and while in the taxi on a ferry) to Zhenjiang. He took the train from Zhenjiang to the Shanghai train station, from where he grabbed yet another taxi to the Hong Qiao airport in Shanghai. He flew out of Shanghai, had an unscheduled landing in Jinan, and eventually arrived back in the Sailing city.

We’re glad to put away the umbrellas and Sean’s overnight bag for a few weeks at least.

And…. That is our story of yesterday!

Sailing Sister

We are so proud of Millie girl, our sailing sister, who is studying to be a successful sailor. Check out the shots we got of her as she practiced at the Olympic Marina, where two months ago the best sailors from around the whole world sailed in the 2008 games!

Eliza wonders if she might see dolphins (probably not in the polluted Yellow Sea thinks mom.)

Beatrice liked watching the tiny fishes that flopped around in the launch area of the Marina.

Asked if one day they would like to join their sailing sister, Eliza offered a non-committal, “Maybe?” while Bea gave a more enthusiastic, “Yep!”

Mexican Night... China Style

It was Mexican night tonight @ the Johnson’s in China. To make tacos in China takes lots of planning… let me walk you through the process:

Our taco prep for this week started last week when I happened on avocados at METRO the German stock-up store. Avocados, which are usually grown in Mexico (consider the carbon footprint on those babies!!) are found in one of two places in Qingdao: Metro, where, when they carry them, they come four to a shrink wrapped pack, cost about a dollar each, and are green and hard and take at least a week to ripen. The second location is the International Shoppe in the complex just west of us, where the clever tai tai who is the proprietor has cornered the market on the Western shopper. In her small shop she stocks everything from cheese filled hotdogs from the USA, to Wheatabix from the UK to the dreaded marmite from down under. She also has a nice selection of organic veggies, which is where the elusive avocado may make an appearance. Hers are priced at 15 Yuan, which makes them a little over two dollars apiece. She also routinely stocks Old El Paso tortilla wraps ($6 USD for 8 wraps, thank you very much!)

Then, it’s off to the Japanese meat market for a pound of ground beef 28.8 yuan/500 grams. Pricier than meat sold elsewhere, but sold in a much cleaner environment, with music playing quietly overhead and helpful clerks in crisp white aprons. The clear glass windows leading the back of the meat market are reassuring; as the visible meat processing area is suitably clean… a far cry from other supermarket experiences. There, I must sort through pig trotter and chicken necks before coming upon the ground red meats. All the while, I am using my small cart for leverage as I vie first for a place in line, and then ignore the funny looks I get when I order in halting Chinese. There is often a rhythmic thudding and simultaneous splattering sound, as, on this side of the glass, a lad from the meat counter in a blood splattered apron chops large cuts of meat into smaller portions.

By yesterday, my avocados from Metro had finally matured. I must note that Sean was not originally a fan of guacamole. For him, avocados used to rank up there with other weird foods I like. (Blue cheese and hummus come to mind.) But over the course of our eleven years as Mr. and Mrs., he has bravely branched out… his most recent foray into a love for good guacamole. For our Rockin’ Guacamole, we have relied faithfully on our friend Mrs. Betty Crocker, whose simple red cookbook has been with us from the start (as her splattered and stained pages signify.)

Our Rockin’ Guac is a great compliment to soft shelled tacos, but really goes best with tortilla chips, which are, as you guessed, also hard to find, and expensive when they are found. I decided to bypass the International Shoppe tai tai (she, had, after all gotten our money on her overpriced tortillas) opting instead for the small Mexican restaurant in Tai Dong a section in the older part of the city.

Bea and I, armed with my newly acquired bus pass, jumped the #232 to Tai Dong at the bus stop just outside the gate to our complex. We live near the start of the route, and had our pick of seats. 50 minutes later, when we arrived in Tai Dong (a ride that takes about 20 minutes in our private vehicle) it was crowded with many people standing in the aisle and stair well of the bus.

We shared a nice lunch at the Mexican joint, which, I must also add, had some of the cleanest restrooms in Qingdao. I know we seem to mentioned toilets a lot in our correspondence, but with a recently potty-trained pre-schooler, we make many trips into toilets around town, and most of them aren’t very pretty (nor do they smell nice.) I will stop there and not elaborate… although I could. So, the toilets (which are actually squatties) at the Mexican restaurant are a bizarre highlight for me as we happen on a nice restroom so infrequently!

We purchased a big bag of their tortilla chips to go, along with a huge dollop of their homemade fresh salsa and found ourselves nearly ready for our taco extravaganza. Fortunately, most of the other taco essentials: lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cheese, and olives are relatively easy to come by. The taco seasoning pack is one of many I brought back in my suitcase on our recent trip to the States.

At 5:30, around the time Sean is usually arriving home, he called to say he was still at his desk, but soon on his way.

Undeterred I gleefully shouted, “Its taco night!”

“Okay…” he said, not quite sharing my enthusiasm.

I encouraged him to stop by K-mart (the not-so-creative name of the Korean mart) to grab a cold Corona out of their refrigerated section. (Two potential tangents: First, you can actually buy an individual bottle of beer here. Second, an American, buying Mexican beer, at a Korean shop in China.)

With extra time, I decided to unite the troops.

“We’re having a Taco Night party!” I informed the girls.

“Yeah!!!” they shouted, and the wheels began to spin in their little blond heads.

“Let’s shut off all the lights and surprise Daddy!”

“Let’s light candles!”

“Music!” I exclaimed…. And ran to the computer to complete a play list… Jimmy Buffet, James Taylor’s “Mexico,” some Dora the Explorer songs in Spanish (which Eliza later told me to eighty-six because, she said, they were for little kids.)

When Sean arrived home the room was dark, except for the flicker of candlelight. The sounds of a mariachi band playing Mexican Hat Dance were blaring from the small desktop speakers.
The girls and I burst out of the playroom.

“Surprise!!” the four of us yelled. And, to his credit, Sean got it. (The poor guy is never perhaps sure what his crazy wife and playful daughters might be up to next.)

“Taco Night,” he exclaimed and joined the frenzy in the kitchen. The girls sipped Kid Rita’s-- Juice in sugar rimmed martini glasses. (Mango, apple and grape juice for Millie, Eliza and Bea respectively.) Mom joined them with a shaken libation of her own, and Sean asked for more guacamole and washed it down with a cold Cerveza. When we had had our fill of taco, salsa and chips the party moved back to the living room where the girls had a dance party… culminating with a rousing rendition of “Tequila!”

That’s our Mexican night… China style!