The wedding.

So this weekend a big wig government official’s son got married. In order to make the wedding official, you need to have little white kids do cute things to show how international you are. Because Jonathan makes all the Chinese women stare and want to pet him, he was hand selected as one of the ‘token white kids’. Which also meant that I got to be the token white dad at the wedding.

First off, who ever thought having a wedding ceremony/reception at 9:30 am on a Sunday was a good idea? The whole thought of celebrating a wedding right after you rolled out of bed and got dressed just doesn’t work for me. The nice thing is you don’t blow a whole Saturday every time someone gets married. I was back in my bed at 11:30. 3.5 hours door to door.

The night before the wedding, we had a little soiree at our house to celebrate folks heading back to their home countries. It was a progressive dinner with a little international flare. A nice pumpkin soup, olive salad, homemade German bread that was oh so yummy, lots of desserts and real wines from around the world. My wife even let me splurge and spend the $7 for a little tub of sour cream so we could have real baked potatoes. We ate and drank for 6 hours. It was a very good time. Everyone brought their kids with them so we had 16 kids upstairs having a great time (even though they got stuck with pizza which they didn’t seem to mind too much). By the time the party wrapped up it was around 12:30. The kids all looked like zombies as they left and ours didn’t look any better as they trudged off to bed.

I only mention this last bit to explain why Jonathan was not a chipper little boy on Sunday morning after getting just 6 hours of sleep. Having Chinese people gawk and stare, as well as tussle your hair can be disconcerting for an adult. It can be traumatic for a little kid. It can lead to a terrets outbreak in little kids after only getting 6 hours of sleep.

When we get to the wedding hall, Jonathan starts to cry. I ask him why he’s crying and he says he thinks his suit looks ugly (as a fairly entertaining side note here, you have to realize that my son’s current idea of fashion is to get his hair going in as many direction as possible, wear a ‘once upon a time’ white jacket which can now only be described as disgustingly grey, and pants with holes. We often refer to it as homeless Chic. To hear him describe his 3 piece custom fitted suit as ugly was a bit hard to take)

I tried to console Jonathan. Nothing. I thought maybe bribery might get me somewhere. Nothing. I settled for jamming him with chocolate and coke. I figured adults drink coffee to get their motors going, maybe caffeine could do something for Jonathan. I think it worked. He stopped crying, but he was never able to lose the ‘ornery’ look you can see in the pictures

Finally, I was wondering before the wedding ceremony what the differences would be between a wealthy couple’s wedding and the weddings I have been to with ‘normal’ people. After having been to the wealthy wedding, I can now say with confidence that the only difference is that the ceremony has all the same elements, they are just tackier.
-Pouring champagne into the chandelier of glasses with dry ice looks the same; you just have twice as many glasses which requires you to use a hydraulic lift to be able to pour into the top glass.
-When it’s time for the ceremonial ‘you may now hug the bride’ (no, I am not making that up), you perform the marital ritual on a little revolving platform so that all the guests can see the bride and groom embracing from all angles.
-And of course there are twice as many people. With twice as many people, there are twice as many tables and the bride and groom need to toast every table. The problem is Chinese people refuse to sit at a table after they are done eating. As we were leaving the wedding, our quarter of the reception hall had already left and the bride and groom hadn’t gotten there yet. Apparently you can just send a ‘cheers’ e-mail after the ceremony that works just as well as toasting in person.

Finally finally, it was interesting that one of the songs used for the wedding was amazing grace. I didn’t have anyone I could ask why they chose this song, but it was a welcome reminder of home for at least one person in the audience.

Dee and the kids will be back in the US at the cottage this Thursday night. Time does fly.

Men. What gives?

This is Philip.
Philip is a very smart French man.
Philip doesn't know how to turn on a microwave.
What is there about kitchen appliances that befuddles 1/2 of the world's population?

Swimming pool.

(Editorial note: All conversations documented in this entry were had in Chinese. So when I put quotes around what was said by me or others, the quotation marks should be taken as ‘this is what I think was said’ versus ‘this is what was said’. The difference between the two is potentially broad and significant.

I took my 3 boys to the swimming pool today. That was my father’s day gift from my wife. We have gone before so I didn’t think it would be difficult to find our way into the pool. It’s only a 2 minute walk from our apartment so we got our stuff together and headed out.

I wasn’t feeling much like swimming, so I brought my Chinese notebook so I could study while the kids swam. We checked in at the front desk without too much difficulty, although the woman did confiscate our little inflatable ball. Not sure what the danger of a little beach ball is, but she was pretty convinced that ball would lead to no good so it was out.

We got into the locker room and changed. The kids had their mandatory swim caps and swim suits and little rubber shoes to wear out to the pool. I was thinking we were starting to understand the drill here in China and able to get around without much difficulty. (that’s foreshadowing if you’re not familiar with the literary tool)

When we went out to the pool area, the kids all jumped in and started swimming. I walked over to the little lounge chair to relax with my book. Before I could get there though, the lifeguard starts yelling at me. After a bit I realize he wants me to wear a swimsuit in the pool. I calmly explained to him that I would not be swimming. I was just going to sit right here and read my book. Then he really started getting mad, apparently I was being disrespectful for explaining my lack of desire to swim. So after shouting back and forth for awhile, I went to the front desk to find out if the lifeguard was nuts. They told me the same thing. If you’re going to read a book by the pool, you have to wear a swimming suit. I’m beginning to think these people are crazy. As a side note the lifeguards were not wearing swimsuits either. Just shorts and a t-shirt like me.

So I swallowed my pride went back to the apartment and put on a swim suit. I went back to the front desk and said ‘Am I ok now?’. I was a bit surprised by the answer. ‘No. You have to wear a swimsuit’. I’m like, ‘lady, I don’t know what planet you’re from (planet china turns out to be the correct answer), but I am wearing a swimsuit’. ‘No you’re not’ was her calm reply. ‘What does a swimsuit look like if this is not a swimsuit?’. She went behind the desk and pulled out this little speedo. She had this great look on her face like ‘you moron, everyone knows what a swimsuit looks like’. She had me stumped for a moment on this one. Then I told her that my 3 boys were already swimming in the pool with swimsuits like mine. I should at least be allowed to sit next to the pool in a swimsuit like I was wearing. She disagreed, but was willing to ask her manager.

Luckily for me, her manager saw the crazed look in my eyes and thought it would be better to have the gringo wearing some freakish shorts with a liner that he thinks is a bathing suit rather than have him lose it and just go walking into the pool area in his birthday suit (which I have to admit did cross my mind in that moment).
In the end they got the final laugh as they told me because I was now wearing a bathingsuit I would have to pay the pool fee to sit next to the pool and watch my kids. I consented.

After I get into the pool, I had a hard time not laughing. There were about 20 kids in the pool, all around 10-13 years old. They were running along the sides of the pool, pushing each other in, wrestling in the water, and just generally raising all sorts of kane. Hard not to ask some fundamental questions at this point. What type of shorts the guy sitting in the chair is wearing=mission critical confrontation. People splitting their heads open because they slipped while getting pushed off the edge of the pool=normal risk that every kid must accept. Huh.

In the end, everything worked out fine. Although on my way out with the boys I had to laugh as I realized they actually had a sign, in English, with all the rules regarding the pool. Turned out it wasn’t against the rules to run, push, and wrestle. As near as I could tell it was also not against the rules to wear shorts in the chairs. Luckily for everyone, it is illegal to enter the pool area if you are less than 4 months pregnant. Who knows what kind of mayhem might result if a 1 month pregnant woman entered the pool area. I do have to say I’m glad they ruled out pets, dysentery, and fungal skin conditions.

What planet AM I living on?

It's june!!

Yes, it has been awhile. Life gets busy. It’s true everywhere on the planet. I’ve been heckled by a few people, so I decided to take some time to do a little writing on a Sunday afternoon. . .

So about February, I started having problems with my right arm. My pointer finger started going numb, and then the rest of my arm and then my shoulder and back. After 4 months, it was starting to get painful and keeping me from being able to get to sleep at night, so I decided I should probably go see a doctor. Now I know the women who read this post will say ‘what in the heck were you waiting for’. But I’m not a woman so I am assuming/hoping that most of the men reading this post will think ‘4 months. Yeah that sounds about right’.

When I asked at the office for a recommendation for what kind of doctor I wanted to see, I thought the question was a bit strange. I figured I wanted to see the kind of doctor that asks you what’s wrong, does a few tests, gives you a diagnosis, and then prescribes a treatment plan. You know a doctor kind of doctor.

My secretary asked me if I wanted a Chinese doctor or a western doctor. I figured ‘when in Rome’. . . So then she asked me if I wanted a traditional or modern Chinese doctor. I told her I wanted to go to the doctor she would go to. She said her doctor usually doesn’t wear a shirt and executes his practice from his home. I told her if that’s where she went, than that’s where I should go. She decided I couldn’t handle her doctor.

So I get sent to a different doctor. His ‘office’ is 2 beds and a desk on the 2nd floor of a little strip mall (I would try to explain what a strip mall is like in Changchun, but I don’t think I could do it. Just think about a normal strip mall in GR and then change everything). On my first visit I describe my symptoms to him through a translator and he starts rubbing my back and arm and says my problem is not my arm or shoulder. It’s my neck. He starts pushing on the side of my neck and every nerve ending from my shoulder down to my finger tips fire at the same time. That’s a strange moment having a man (who is loosely referred to as the doctor) rub your neck and have your arm light up like you just stuck it into a bathtub with a hairdryer.

His diagnosis is that I need to have the nerves in my neck put back in their place. This will require 12 40 minute sessions. Since I don’t know what kind of insurance this doctor would accept I wasn’t too sure about the costs. My mind was quickly put at ease when he told all 12 sessions would cost $45. Maybe his medical school loans had already been paid off so he didn’t have any overhead to cover. I wonder if Dirk P charges more than $5/hour for his services.

After I agree to the treatment he tells me that my muscles might be a little sore after the first couple treatments but that this would pass with time. I’m not sure if the translation was a little off or not, but what he meant to say was ‘I’m going to try and dig a hole into your neck with my steely fingers and elbows. You will most likely cry at most of our sessions as the pain will be just below the threshold that will cause you to black out. You read to get started?’

I’ve been to see him 5 times. I have 12 sessions left. I have to say he is pretty impressive. I had a translator for the 1st session and the last 4 have been just me so we don’t talk much. And he goes to work on me and he works his way to all the spots that make my arm and shoulder twang and he just stays there. It’s like he’s looking for little switch that says ‘here’s the problem’ and he can find those switches without me saying a word about the effect he’s having on my body.

My finger is still a little tingly, but most of the pain is gone already. We’ll have to see if the last 7 sessions can take care of the tingly finger as well.

And the final note: It’s not a blog post without a picture. One of the stores at the bottom of our apartment complex had this picture of a provocative woman(by Chinese standards)in this ad. So I was curious what they were trying to sell with such explicit imagery. Just in case you can’t read the text in the photo, it’s an advertisement for a Chinese version of exlax.