I took this photo July 17th, 2009 from Catherine's apartment. It is several images sewn together.
27 July 2009
Cha-Cha-Changes
I knew when we decided to move out of country we were entering into a lifestyle that I have done before, the transient community.
Bill and I have been married for 16 years and in that time we have had one address in Kansas, three address’s in Michigan (four if you count temp housing at the Love’s Farm), two addresses in Louisiana (same school district), one in Kentucky and currently two in China. If you just count moves that required a change of school districts, we are currently at our SEVENTH location. Why do I count moves by the school districts? I was raised as a Military Brat; my childhood consisted of moving every two to three years. I remember where I lived by what grade I was in and in my 40 years on this planet I have had thirty three different mailing addresses. This is a venue that I know well. The newest buzz words for this lifestyle are Global Nomads or Third Culture Families. We are the souls that live in a community but do not belong, we do have our own base (American, Canadian, Korean, German, etc.) culture, but we are going to hang out in yours for a period of time and then move on.
Why am I dwelling on this today?
There have been several changes in our little community in the past couple of months. We have had a number of families return to their home countries. The Decker’s to Colorado, the Little’s to the DC area, Henke’s to Germany, Arenburg’s to Colorado, Salisbury’s to Michigan, Petra to a different city in China, Ben to Canada (though he is now in southern China) and there are several others that I cannot think of as I type. Those are the families that have left as of today. Due to leave is the Grove’s and the DeBoer’s both will be returning to the US in August, Sonja will probably be leaving this fall to be followed soon after by Romayne’s family. Besides these families leaving Nanjing the majority of them lived in Yulan, our compound, not only were they friends but literally neighbors. I will never underestimate the joy of going for a walk after dinner and meeting up with a friend you can communicate with, if you squint real hard and don’t smell to ozone you can pretend that you are in your home country. (It is a little game we play called…I am not in China.)
Here is the thing: I don’t want to go home but I am jealous of them being back to a familiar ground, going back to where life has something of an “easy” button. At the same token, several of them are jealous of those of us that are staying here where we are treated as either princess or circus freaks, where you can buy a meal for your family for $5 and not be fast food. There are pro’s and con’s to either situation.
Yes, we do like it here. We do like the opportunities that being here gives us both professionally and personally. I am not eager to return to the US or elsewhere because I am happy here. I enjoy my time of being treated like a princess and I am grateful for the chance to travel to these exotic locations. Honestly, if we were in the states there is no way I would have gone to Cambodia or to Thailand or the meet the Shaolin Monks or do any of the other amazing things that we have done this year. For that alone, I love being in China.
The hardest part of these changes is that these women have become my “easy” button. If I cannot figure out how to do something or get somewhere or just need the shoulder to cry on….these women have been my strength.
Susan Decker has been my ‘mother of teenagers’ role model. She has taught me how to handle the school and how to be an effective parent in a country that you feel completely out of control. She was the one that I would call when I need a cheerleader or just need someone to make me leave my house. She introduced me to most everyone else and helped make living here doable on the day to day stuff. I cannot tell you how vital she was to my loving China. Susan was the glass is half full, play nice, if you cannot say something nice don’t say anything at all….my positive role model. This is definitely needed because there is a significant amount of negativity in this lifestyle.
Tammy is my favorite blankie friend. You know when you just need someone to get you, your jokes, your sarcasm or your need to squeeze someone neck till their eyeballs popped out of their head. Tammy was my girl. Tammy is the health nut; yes it is possible for a donut loving couch potato to best buds with a person that thinks running and sweating is FUN. Tammy has been a positive influence on the size of my ass; it has shrunk during our friendship. Tammy was the one that I got stuck in the elevator with, you may recall that story. We spent a lot of our time shopping and wandering around Nanjing, if it had not been for her willingness to jump on the bus and see where we ended up , I would never learned this city as well as I do. Tammy is also the ring leader for our big group parties. New Years was legendary. Tammy was the one that I can crack a joke with an very American references and she would just fall over laughing, nobody else would because they just don’t get me like Tammy does…that is such a necessary thing, for someone to get you! You have no idea how frustrating it is to explain jokes to the Brits or Germans, or the French are the worst, they just don’t get you, period.
Erika is another amazing woman leaving soon. I haven’t spent nearly enough time with her but the time I have has been a riot. She is the class clown of the group. She is one of those people that you just cannot help to be happy when you are around her. She just lightens up a room. Sarcasm though this woman has it mastered.
I could go on and on with each woman and what they have given to me and what I hope to keep from our time spent together. Maybe I will save that for another day… requiem to my friends.
I leave you with the words of Mr. David Bowie:
Strange fascination, fascinating me
Tammy, Erika and I surprised Susan at the Airport. We just couldn't stand to see her go...(disclaimer: women in the photo don't look as bad as they may appear, it was buttcrack early in the morning. I promise!)
Bill and I have been married for 16 years and in that time we have had one address in Kansas, three address’s in Michigan (four if you count temp housing at the Love’s Farm), two addresses in Louisiana (same school district), one in Kentucky and currently two in China. If you just count moves that required a change of school districts, we are currently at our SEVENTH location. Why do I count moves by the school districts? I was raised as a Military Brat; my childhood consisted of moving every two to three years. I remember where I lived by what grade I was in and in my 40 years on this planet I have had thirty three different mailing addresses. This is a venue that I know well. The newest buzz words for this lifestyle are Global Nomads or Third Culture Families. We are the souls that live in a community but do not belong, we do have our own base (American, Canadian, Korean, German, etc.) culture, but we are going to hang out in yours for a period of time and then move on.
Why am I dwelling on this today?
There have been several changes in our little community in the past couple of months. We have had a number of families return to their home countries. The Decker’s to Colorado, the Little’s to the DC area, Henke’s to Germany, Arenburg’s to Colorado, Salisbury’s to Michigan, Petra to a different city in China, Ben to Canada (though he is now in southern China) and there are several others that I cannot think of as I type. Those are the families that have left as of today. Due to leave is the Grove’s and the DeBoer’s both will be returning to the US in August, Sonja will probably be leaving this fall to be followed soon after by Romayne’s family. Besides these families leaving Nanjing the majority of them lived in Yulan, our compound, not only were they friends but literally neighbors. I will never underestimate the joy of going for a walk after dinner and meeting up with a friend you can communicate with, if you squint real hard and don’t smell to ozone you can pretend that you are in your home country. (It is a little game we play called…I am not in China.)
Here is the thing: I don’t want to go home but I am jealous of them being back to a familiar ground, going back to where life has something of an “easy” button. At the same token, several of them are jealous of those of us that are staying here where we are treated as either princess or circus freaks, where you can buy a meal for your family for $5 and not be fast food. There are pro’s and con’s to either situation.
Yes, we do like it here. We do like the opportunities that being here gives us both professionally and personally. I am not eager to return to the US or elsewhere because I am happy here. I enjoy my time of being treated like a princess and I am grateful for the chance to travel to these exotic locations. Honestly, if we were in the states there is no way I would have gone to Cambodia or to Thailand or the meet the Shaolin Monks or do any of the other amazing things that we have done this year. For that alone, I love being in China.
The hardest part of these changes is that these women have become my “easy” button. If I cannot figure out how to do something or get somewhere or just need the shoulder to cry on….these women have been my strength.
Susan Decker has been my ‘mother of teenagers’ role model. She has taught me how to handle the school and how to be an effective parent in a country that you feel completely out of control. She was the one that I would call when I need a cheerleader or just need someone to make me leave my house. She introduced me to most everyone else and helped make living here doable on the day to day stuff. I cannot tell you how vital she was to my loving China. Susan was the glass is half full, play nice, if you cannot say something nice don’t say anything at all….my positive role model. This is definitely needed because there is a significant amount of negativity in this lifestyle.
Tammy is my favorite blankie friend. You know when you just need someone to get you, your jokes, your sarcasm or your need to squeeze someone neck till their eyeballs popped out of their head. Tammy was my girl. Tammy is the health nut; yes it is possible for a donut loving couch potato to best buds with a person that thinks running and sweating is FUN. Tammy has been a positive influence on the size of my ass; it has shrunk during our friendship. Tammy was the one that I got stuck in the elevator with, you may recall that story. We spent a lot of our time shopping and wandering around Nanjing, if it had not been for her willingness to jump on the bus and see where we ended up , I would never learned this city as well as I do. Tammy is also the ring leader for our big group parties. New Years was legendary. Tammy was the one that I can crack a joke with an very American references and she would just fall over laughing, nobody else would because they just don’t get me like Tammy does…that is such a necessary thing, for someone to get you! You have no idea how frustrating it is to explain jokes to the Brits or Germans, or the French are the worst, they just don’t get you, period.
Erika is another amazing woman leaving soon. I haven’t spent nearly enough time with her but the time I have has been a riot. She is the class clown of the group. She is one of those people that you just cannot help to be happy when you are around her. She just lightens up a room. Sarcasm though this woman has it mastered.
I could go on and on with each woman and what they have given to me and what I hope to keep from our time spent together. Maybe I will save that for another day… requiem to my friends.
I leave you with the words of Mr. David Bowie:
Strange fascination, fascinating me
Ah changes are taking the pace I’m going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (turn and face the strain)Ch-ch-changes
Oh, look out you rock n rollers
Oh, look out you rock n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (turn and face the strain) Ch-ch-changes
Pretty soon now you’re gonna get a little older
Time may change me, But I can’t trace time
I said that time may change me, But I can’t trace time
Tammy, Moi, Susan, Erika and Katherine
at on Susan's last night in Nanjing
Tammy, Erika and I surprised Susan at the Airport. We just couldn't stand to see her go...(disclaimer: women in the photo don't look as bad as they may appear, it was buttcrack early in the morning. I promise!)
26 July 2009
Hash Sunday
Today was the July Hash. Hash is a group of international walkers and runners who get together once a month to go on a trek around our community. A couple of organizers go out in advance and set the trailer with markers in our case we use flour to make different markings along the route.
All who wish to participate assemble at a prearranged location and set out following the markers. There are various symbols pointing us in the correct direction with the occasional marker that we have to choose which way, if you make the wrong choice you will run out of markers and then you have to retrace your steps and find the correction direction.
At the end of the trail we gather at a restaurant for lunch and down downs. Dow
n downs are penalty drinks (beer) for any infractions you may have committed during the trek. Now, the hash leaders or the “spiritual advisor” will call out all those that committed offenses and they have to drink to in sequence to this song or rally call. We also welcome all the “virgin” hashers, they have to stand in the front of the group and tell who they are and who made them come….pun completely intended. Basically, you have a group of people that are a little raunchy, a lot of fun and enjoy exercise. They say that a true hasher is an alcoholic with a running problem, they may be right.
This hash was out to an island on the Yangtze River. We met at the Olympic Stadium subway station at 830 this morning and set off to the ferry dock, about 1.5k. Once over the river onto the island we were off and running, or in my case, power walking. The trail (5k) took us through the village and into the grape fields. This island is used as a farm for grape vines. It was a mixture of farmland and homes with a number of substanti
al newly constructed homes that resembled Mediterranean villas. The weird part is that they were all vacant and only 80% completed. It was as if the builders just decided that it wasn’t a great idea, packed up their tools and left. The grapevines were in better shape than most of the islanders living conditions. I still don’t know why the grapes were in bags hanging on the vines. Derek’s best guess w
as to prevent bugs from getting to grapes, very plausible. I only saw two snakes on this hike and thankfully they were both dead. (I so don’t like snakes.)
I cannot tell you have fun it is to go into these area’s that don’t see a lot of foreigners -particularly in their little neighborhoods. It is a little odd but you get used to the people coming to a complete halt to watch the “strangers” go pass their home or business. They follow us around and try to figure out why we all are calling out when we pass a pile of flour, “On.” I am sure that when we go wandering off the sidewalks and walkways and march off into the fields or woods y
elling, “On, on!” What a freak show we must be.
Lunch today was in a Really Chinese Chinese restaurant. I know you think that is redundant but you have three different Chinese Restaurants. One, an Expat Friendly Chinese operated restaurant that features Chinese food but feels a little western. It may even have a couple familiar dishes for a wester
n to choose from. Second is the Chinese Chinese places, they feature more traditional Chinese fair in a modern setting. Third is the Really Chinese Chinese places, these are traditional dishes that are served with the heads still attached, feet too. The seasoning is salt (MSG) and Chinese vinegar. These special places also have questionable hygiene and food prep areas. For those of us that live here, we eventually get u
sed to the conditions and can always find one or two dishes that we can tolerate. My preference today was the boiled crawfish. (You can take the girl out of Louisiana but you cannot take Louisiana out of the girl.)
After lunch, several of us headed out to find the ferry dock for the return trip home. I had to stop for a pee break; I just couldn’t use the facilities at the restaurant. I ended up stopping in the two at a Chinese Chinese place to use their facilities which was not going to win any awards for cleanliness either. In our area if you need to use the potty or take a break you just walk into any establishment and do so – no questions asked, I however still am programmed so I bought a coke and had a few minutes of conversation with the staff. Back across the river, not anywhere I will be swimming, another 2k before we were able to find a taxi to take us home.
It was a great way to spend a Sunday morning and I was most appreciative of my son going out on the scooter and bring home BIGMAC’s!
All who wish to participate assemble at a prearranged location and set out following the markers. There are various symbols pointing us in the correct direction with the occasional marker that we have to choose which way, if you make the wrong choice you will run out of markers and then you have to retrace your steps and find the correction direction.
At the end of the trail we gather at a restaurant for lunch and down downs. Dow
n downs are penalty drinks (beer) for any infractions you may have committed during the trek. Now, the hash leaders or the “spiritual advisor” will call out all those that committed offenses and they have to drink to in sequence to this song or rally call. We also welcome all the “virgin” hashers, they have to stand in the front of the group and tell who they are and who made them come….pun completely intended. Basically, you have a group of people that are a little raunchy, a lot of fun and enjoy exercise. They say that a true hasher is an alcoholic with a running problem, they may be right.This hash was out to an island on the Yangtze River. We met at the Olympic Stadium subway station at 830 this morning and set off to the ferry dock, about 1.5k. Once over the river onto the island we were off and running, or in my case, power walking. The trail (5k) took us through the village and into the grape fields. This island is used as a farm for grape vines. It was a mixture of farmland and homes with a number of substanti
al newly constructed homes that resembled Mediterranean villas. The weird part is that they were all vacant and only 80% completed. It was as if the builders just decided that it wasn’t a great idea, packed up their tools and left. The grapevines were in better shape than most of the islanders living conditions. I still don’t know why the grapes were in bags hanging on the vines. Derek’s best guess w
as to prevent bugs from getting to grapes, very plausible. I only saw two snakes on this hike and thankfully they were both dead. (I so don’t like snakes.)I cannot tell you have fun it is to go into these area’s that don’t see a lot of foreigners -particularly in their little neighborhoods. It is a little odd but you get used to the people coming to a complete halt to watch the “strangers” go pass their home or business. They follow us around and try to figure out why we all are calling out when we pass a pile of flour, “On.” I am sure that when we go wandering off the sidewalks and walkways and march off into the fields or woods y
elling, “On, on!” What a freak show we must be.Lunch today was in a Really Chinese Chinese restaurant. I know you think that is redundant but you have three different Chinese Restaurants. One, an Expat Friendly Chinese operated restaurant that features Chinese food but feels a little western. It may even have a couple familiar dishes for a wester
n to choose from. Second is the Chinese Chinese places, they feature more traditional Chinese fair in a modern setting. Third is the Really Chinese Chinese places, these are traditional dishes that are served with the heads still attached, feet too. The seasoning is salt (MSG) and Chinese vinegar. These special places also have questionable hygiene and food prep areas. For those of us that live here, we eventually get u
sed to the conditions and can always find one or two dishes that we can tolerate. My preference today was the boiled crawfish. (You can take the girl out of Louisiana but you cannot take Louisiana out of the girl.)After lunch, several of us headed out to find the ferry dock for the return trip home. I had to stop for a pee break; I just couldn’t use the facilities at the restaurant. I ended up stopping in the two at a Chinese Chinese place to use their facilities which was not going to win any awards for cleanliness either. In our area if you need to use the potty or take a break you just walk into any establishment and do so – no questions asked, I however still am programmed so I bought a coke and had a few minutes of conversation with the staff. Back across the river, not anywhere I will be swimming, another 2k before we were able to find a taxi to take us home.
It was a great way to spend a Sunday morning and I was most appreciative of my son going out on the scooter and bring home BIGMAC’s!
Hashers sing with me...I heard it through the grapevines.
Food Prep Area. Notice the yellow flowers under the table, those were battered and fried. Yummy. They are flowers from a squash plant of some sort.
Special entertainment for the locals. For a small fee you can ride on the pedal boats. 
This is where they were cleaning the dishes.
Chris, professional hasher, hauling the kiddies.08 July 2009
I suck, got it!
I keep telling myself to be more faithful to the blog but alas, I am not.
I do have stuff to say and I do have this running dialog with you, the readers, in my head. I just seem to suffer from a lack of ability to sit down and write. By the way, that dialog is funny, charming and you adore me.
What am I going to do to harness this long suffering inability to focus? I am going back to the basics of time management. I am committing myself to the following:
Monday mornings from 11am to noon.
Wednesday afternoons from 2 pm to 3pm.
These are my scheduled times to be on the computer. No, I will not be on the computer dinking around with facebook or any of the other mind numbing activities that are out there to waste a day away. This is my time that I will sit and write to you. I will astound you with my stories of Chinese interactions, photos of my wanderings and general rhetoric about my opinions of nothing and everything.
This is my commitment to you and to me. God help us all.
I do have stuff to say and I do have this running dialog with you, the readers, in my head. I just seem to suffer from a lack of ability to sit down and write. By the way, that dialog is funny, charming and you adore me.
What am I going to do to harness this long suffering inability to focus? I am going back to the basics of time management. I am committing myself to the following:
Monday mornings from 11am to noon.
Wednesday afternoons from 2 pm to 3pm.
These are my scheduled times to be on the computer. No, I will not be on the computer dinking around with facebook or any of the other mind numbing activities that are out there to waste a day away. This is my time that I will sit and write to you. I will astound you with my stories of Chinese interactions, photos of my wanderings and general rhetoric about my opinions of nothing and everything.
This is my commitment to you and to me. God help us all.
23 June 2009
Another China Moment
Let me try to set the scene….
Bill and I had a wonderful day with friends. We sat at the pool for hours with Tammy, Chris and several other families that reside at Yulan Villa, our compound in Nanjing. After many hours of sun worshipping Bill and I went to Tammy and Chris’s unit for supper. We grilled salmon, tilapia, veggies and had a huge salad with garlic bread. Several bottles of wine and an Eddie Izzard DVD, wonderful evening, oh, we were also joined by a new family to the compound, Bruce and Lynn.
Derek had a party that he went to at another compound for friends that are going home for the summer and was staying the night with one of those buddies.
Bill and I returned home before midnight and went to bed. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…
Fast forward to 1:40am….(doorbell rings, again and again)…
I wake up, pull on my skirt (t-shirt already in place) and stumble down two flights of stairs to the door. I know it is not Derek since he knows the door code, so what the heck. Open the door and there are two guys from compound security, two CHINESE guards who do not speak English. We spend the next several minutes playing charades and using my basic language skills…
There is a person at the gate, drunk and passed out.
What the hell, the only person not home is Derek. I am freaking out. Freaking out as putting in mildly, I was scared to death. The guards escort me to the gatehouse which is a short walk but I swear it is about 100 degrees and muggy, my adrenaline has already kicked into overdrive and causing a panic sweat…they show me out the compound to a guy passed out cold in the grass. A foreigner. I cannot describe my relief that it isn’t my son; I may have even swooned a bit from said relief. That joy lasted for only a millisecond because now I am looking at this guy -that may or may not be alive and I don’t recognize him as someone from our compound. Either way, he has now become my problem.
I bend over and check for a pulse (yep, EMT training still in affect ABC’s: airway, breathing, circulation,another sigh of relief…not dead. Holy sweet mother of God, I have to back away from him because the smell of the alcohol is enough to make me dizzy. I look to the guards, of which now there are seven, in hopes of some insight on what to do next.
I say in my best Chinese, “Not my friend, I don’t know.”
Guard: “What?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Guard: “Friend?”
Me: “No, no friend. I don’t know. Yulan? I don’t know.”
Guard: (blank stare)
This is getting me know where. Passed out dude just sleeping away – now I am pissed, time for action. I bend back down to Mr. Sauced and pinch off his nostrils. Yep, I am not suffocating a stranger in a strange land. What is my life coming to?
Mr. Sauced finally makes the mental connection that he isn’t getting oxygen to his overly intoxicated brain and wakes up. The guards are laughing out loud. This is probably the most entertaining thing that they have seen in their lives.
Mr. Sauced is attempting to communicate but I cannot understand what he is saying…French, English, German, Columbian, Austrian, Swede, Italian, Russian...I say hi in every language I know, I even make up several more. His speech is so slurred but he is answering my questions in English.
Me: Do you live at Yulan?
He: What.
Me: Where do you live?
He: What?
Me: Do you have a business card?
He: What?
Yep, we are getting somewhere now. Mr. Sauced stumbles up and says something about getting a taxi and immediately walks directly into a parked car, falls back to the ground. Yep, he is getting somewhere now.
Me: Do you have a wallet? Billfold? ID? Money? (If I put him in a taxi, can he pay?)
He: Yes.
Me: Can I see it? (He hands me the wallet.)
I go through and find a library card, a subway card, a medical insurance card a little money but no name and no business card. I finally see it….a driver’s license….from New Zealand and his name, Ted. (Name has been changed to protect the idiot.)
Me: Ted, I don’t know where you live. I don’t think you live in Yulan, do you live at Bamboo? (The compound around the block from Yulan.)
Ted: Yes, get taxi.
Me: Ted, Bamboo is just down the block, no taxi. Lets walk.
Ted: I do it myself.
He starts to walk off but nearly wiped out on the curb. I grab one arm and a guard grabs the other and we get him going in the right direction. We followed him around the corner and the guards called the guards at Bamboo Garden to meet us so that they could take over the escort of Ted, who is now able to say the number of his building and his unit number.
The Yulan guards insist on walking me back to my apartment. The whole way they are trying to talk to me and I cannot understand most of what they are saying. I am sure some of it was in reference to the suffocation methods used to revive Ted. I am now hot, sweaty and tired, adrenaline crashing and I want my air conditioning. I tell the guards that I don’t understand what they are saying, Ted was not my friend, just another foolish foreigner, Ted was an ass. Thank you and see you later. Ass is my newest Chinese word.
I make it back home and Bill is waiting on the sofa for the story. I am so thankful that it wasn’t Derek. I assume that Ted made it home and has no memory of our little adventure. My evil side definitely hoped that he has the mother of all hangovers.
Bill and I had a wonderful day with friends. We sat at the pool for hours with Tammy, Chris and several other families that reside at Yulan Villa, our compound in Nanjing. After many hours of sun worshipping Bill and I went to Tammy and Chris’s unit for supper. We grilled salmon, tilapia, veggies and had a huge salad with garlic bread. Several bottles of wine and an Eddie Izzard DVD, wonderful evening, oh, we were also joined by a new family to the compound, Bruce and Lynn.
Derek had a party that he went to at another compound for friends that are going home for the summer and was staying the night with one of those buddies.
Bill and I returned home before midnight and went to bed. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…
Fast forward to 1:40am….(doorbell rings, again and again)…
I wake up, pull on my skirt (t-shirt already in place) and stumble down two flights of stairs to the door. I know it is not Derek since he knows the door code, so what the heck. Open the door and there are two guys from compound security, two CHINESE guards who do not speak English. We spend the next several minutes playing charades and using my basic language skills…
There is a person at the gate, drunk and passed out.
What the hell, the only person not home is Derek. I am freaking out. Freaking out as putting in mildly, I was scared to death. The guards escort me to the gatehouse which is a short walk but I swear it is about 100 degrees and muggy, my adrenaline has already kicked into overdrive and causing a panic sweat…they show me out the compound to a guy passed out cold in the grass. A foreigner. I cannot describe my relief that it isn’t my son; I may have even swooned a bit from said relief. That joy lasted for only a millisecond because now I am looking at this guy -that may or may not be alive and I don’t recognize him as someone from our compound. Either way, he has now become my problem.
I bend over and check for a pulse (yep, EMT training still in affect ABC’s: airway, breathing, circulation,another sigh of relief…not dead. Holy sweet mother of God, I have to back away from him because the smell of the alcohol is enough to make me dizzy. I look to the guards, of which now there are seven, in hopes of some insight on what to do next.
I say in my best Chinese, “Not my friend, I don’t know.”
Guard: “What?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
Guard: “Friend?”
Me: “No, no friend. I don’t know. Yulan? I don’t know.”
Guard: (blank stare)
This is getting me know where. Passed out dude just sleeping away – now I am pissed, time for action. I bend back down to Mr. Sauced and pinch off his nostrils. Yep, I am not suffocating a stranger in a strange land. What is my life coming to?
Mr. Sauced finally makes the mental connection that he isn’t getting oxygen to his overly intoxicated brain and wakes up. The guards are laughing out loud. This is probably the most entertaining thing that they have seen in their lives.
Mr. Sauced is attempting to communicate but I cannot understand what he is saying…French, English, German, Columbian, Austrian, Swede, Italian, Russian...I say hi in every language I know, I even make up several more. His speech is so slurred but he is answering my questions in English.
Me: Do you live at Yulan?
He: What.
Me: Where do you live?
He: What?
Me: Do you have a business card?
He: What?
Yep, we are getting somewhere now. Mr. Sauced stumbles up and says something about getting a taxi and immediately walks directly into a parked car, falls back to the ground. Yep, he is getting somewhere now.
Me: Do you have a wallet? Billfold? ID? Money? (If I put him in a taxi, can he pay?)
He: Yes.
Me: Can I see it? (He hands me the wallet.)
I go through and find a library card, a subway card, a medical insurance card a little money but no name and no business card. I finally see it….a driver’s license….from New Zealand and his name, Ted. (Name has been changed to protect the idiot.)
Me: Ted, I don’t know where you live. I don’t think you live in Yulan, do you live at Bamboo? (The compound around the block from Yulan.)
Ted: Yes, get taxi.
Me: Ted, Bamboo is just down the block, no taxi. Lets walk.
Ted: I do it myself.
He starts to walk off but nearly wiped out on the curb. I grab one arm and a guard grabs the other and we get him going in the right direction. We followed him around the corner and the guards called the guards at Bamboo Garden to meet us so that they could take over the escort of Ted, who is now able to say the number of his building and his unit number.
The Yulan guards insist on walking me back to my apartment. The whole way they are trying to talk to me and I cannot understand most of what they are saying. I am sure some of it was in reference to the suffocation methods used to revive Ted. I am now hot, sweaty and tired, adrenaline crashing and I want my air conditioning. I tell the guards that I don’t understand what they are saying, Ted was not my friend, just another foolish foreigner, Ted was an ass. Thank you and see you later. Ass is my newest Chinese word.
I make it back home and Bill is waiting on the sofa for the story. I am so thankful that it wasn’t Derek. I assume that Ted made it home and has no memory of our little adventure. My evil side definitely hoped that he has the mother of all hangovers.
25 March 2009
To Cambodia With Love
I think I have fallen in love, no, not with another man but with another country, Cambodia.Bill, Derek and I were fortunate enough to be able to go to Siem Reap for a long weekend and the country and its people touched my soul. I now have a better understanding of why Angelina Jolie adopted her first son and though it may have seemed impulsive to those of us on the outside looking in – I believe without a doubt, it was not. 
Siem Reap is a large “city” in central Cambodia. It has the ruins of Angkor Wat as its biggest draw for tourist. These are the ruins that have made Cambodia known to Derek’s generation as it was used as a backdrop for the Laura Croft: Tomb Raider movie. South of Siem Reap is a large, think huge, lake that becomes a gigantic lake during the rainy season.
Our trip was mid march which is at the end of dry season; our guide told us that they have not had recordable rainfall since November. During the four days that we were there, we saw no but there were puddles at one of the ruins. The weather was significantly warmer than it was in Nanjing. Even though it was only mid-march the daily average was high 80’s. There seems to be a gentle breeze most days due to the land itself being so flat. I was a bit surprised by the lack of hills and vegetation. The trees were all tropical with the most beautiful array of orchids and lotus’s. They were everywhere. Lotus root is the stem of the lotus flower, the “petals” are cleaned out and the “stem” is sliced up for various recipes. Both are yummy, especially the fried lotus root. I practically liked the blue sky; it is rarely seen here in Nanjing due to all the ozone abuse. We try not to talk about it since we are breathing it in. 
Our first evening we went to Tone Slap Lake to tour the floating village by boat. It was amazing, several hundred families that live and work from their floating homes. The homes don’t amount to much more than floating shacks; but none the less, it was beautiful. You can see the poverty that is a given but you also could see the joy of life that comes through in their eyes.
On the way to lake we passed several homes that were on stilts about 15 feet above the ground. This is due to rainy season, at that time the lake that we were going to overflows and the whole area becomes a part of the lake.
We cruised around the floating village and made a small stop at a tourist market with crocodiles and a large snake that this little girl was responsible for; I didn’t think much of the whole snake thing. It is a slight phobia of mine, if you call peeing my pants and stop breathing - SLIGHT. We then went to the Tara which is a boat/restaurant for a sunset dinner. Food was wonderful and the hostesses were so kind. I was on high alert the whole time since Bill is deathly allergic to shellfish. Traveling Asia is a very stressful for people with this allergy as most ethnic groups use shellfish as a primary source of protein.
The following few days were filled with touring the ruins and visiting the town proper. More of these adventures to come……
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