Dragon us away!

Here is a beautiful dragon that Yameng, my sweet chinese friend and former teacher-assistant sent me.

Yes, it is a first for our family! For this Chinese New Year, we have not joined the mass exodus, but rather stayed in Beijing.
In fact, this is the time of the largest migration on earth - the entire country moves east to west, south to north, north to west; most people return to their villages, migrant workers leaving their construction sites, ayis leaving families they care for, waiters and service people taking a pause, store owners closing shops. Regular life takes a halt - everyone hops on an overcrowded train, and goes home.
Well, it should be that simple. This year again, buying the train ticket was like playing lotto: tickets are made available 10 days before departure. Now imagine the entire country trying to board trains to arrive home (wherever it is in the country) at the same time. In the past years, people have started lining up as early as midnight to get a ticket in the morning. Now this year, they started allowing online booking and phone booking... 14 days in advance. Which means that those who needed it most - the migrants, illiterate and without a computer - could hardly get a ticket when the ticket office opened 4 days later.
All this is important stuff for these people. Celebrating the new lunar year in family is a major event, but it is also the only real holiday most workers get in the year. For several of them, it means going to see their child, whom they had to leave with the grand-parents, as schooling  in the city is too expensive for children of migrant workers. What a hardship! I cannot imagine been away from my kids for a few weeks, even less a full year!!!
So this year, for our lovely Ayi, we felt generous. As we were not able to let her go for her usual 2 weeks  (the official holidays are 3 days, and most workers will work over the previous and following weekends to make up a full 7 consecutive days off-work, but her and others are often able to negotiate a longer break). She is from Anhui, a southern province, a long journey home. To help her maximize her stay, we offered her a round-trip plane ticket (shh! it is a secret - other ayis should not know, some might get jealous!). I even took her to the airport; as it was her first-ever plane ride, a little coaching ensured a smooth departure.  Here she is ready to go!

For us expatriates, Chinese New Year means something different. Oh! What promises we heard: noise and chaos, impossibility to sleep at night due to the number of loud bangs from the fireworks, no stores opened, no restaurants, no local travels due to lack of tickets or crowded destinations, overcrowded temple fairs, blablabla. But despite the bad omen, we stayed on. And ...  in retrospect (even if it is not completely over - the fiesta lasting well over 2 weeks!), these days in Beijing have been simply fa-bu-lous! yes yes, FA-BU-LOUS!! What a bliss!!!
First, for a whole week and half, there is NO traffic!!! just that is absolutely amazing. Then, as there is not much happening, everywhere we went, it was just low key, no crowd, no stress.  And having the kids with us at home, without our work schedule interfering, was nice: no suitcases to pack, just the regular small chores (lunches, laundry) but yet the feeling that we were all there for each other, together... And then, furthermore, work-wise, everything is kind of slow, so even if there is work for some, it is usually not too stressful.

And the best of all, for me, is the fact that we got a personal firework by our place every night. The first night was interesting: it started out in a crescendo - small and sporadic, coming from a few directions around us, sometimes in the street just below our place. Then as midnight approached, it came from everywhere, from behind every building I could see from our windows, from down in our street and from across the stadium and form further away, and it was popping all over and went completely wild when midnight rang. It was truly beautiful, loud and magic. Yet, my three men were sleeping like princes waiting in vain for their princesses. And even if I went to wake up mon petit prince Noam to let him watch this magic scene (I like to play the princess), he could not care less, and just wanted to get back in bed. So I ended up sitting by myself in the TV room, sipping some wine while gazing at this urban orgasm of lights, toasting the new dragon in town.

2012, year of the Dragon!

Honey! I forgot the suitcase home!

We just realized that it has been three years already! Three years here, in Beijing, three years of discovery, and of learning. And continuing.
It just happened that this is a long weekend here in China, the "Golden week" (黄金周), a combination of a three-day holiday celebrating the creation of the country, and the reshuffling of the work-week, to end up with 7 consecutive days off, allowing many to return visit family in their villages.
We just did what the Chinese do, and headed to a village, Wuduhe, 100 inhabitants, near the Great Wall. (ponder on this number in comparison to what is called here a mid-sized city, with one or two millions inhabitants).
We are fortunate enough to have friends who found a courtyard house in the countryside. They are renting it with some friends, and for that special weeks, nobody was using it.
We packed up with electric blankets, warm night wear and thick comforters, since the nights are now more fresh (10 degrees), and the house not heated. We also took lots of food to barbecue. We sailed out of Beijing while the kids were napping in the back of the car, heavy with all the gear needed for 3 days out of the city.
It is always so nice to drive out to the countryside, and it lovely to arrive to the house, meet the owners, let the kids roam.
All was well until we realized that our suitcase full of our sleeping gear, diapers and toiletry was forgotten at home. After pondering a few long minutes about the possibility of driving back to Beijing to pick it up (for a 4-hours round trip), I opted to head out to the nearest town, on a mission, but skeptical about what I could find (PJs are easy, but contact lenses solution?) I first got into a typical street market to find regular Chinese pajama (think thick lined cotton) sold in a small shop directly on wooden tables.  I basically bought half the inventory of the lady, each piece for about 30 or 40 RMB each (someone was happy from our mindlessness at last!)

Fashionable Chinese winter PJs - (this picture was taken in Beijing). 
Then I drove out in direction of a more "modern" street, with small stores. Not only I easily found the diapers (don't forget, most kids are still using split pants here), I could choose one brand from another.  And then I left in search of an eyewear store (at this point without any notion of Mandarin it would be Mission Impossible). I drove away, turned at the indicated intersection. I was told I could not miss it. Indeed:  I found myself in front of an immense mall filled with latest fashion - something at par with Beijing's downtown shopping malls: all lights and adds on the outside, all loud music and expensive items inside.
It was an amazing discovery to drive from this tiny little village and found such a modern city, so near. I guess on our way to Wuduhe, we passed away from it, on the highway, giving us the sense that we are heading to a more isolated, more rural area than what it is.  In any cases, point made, our rural countryside house is kind of just beside a fairly large city (named Huairou), with all conveniences. So next time we run out of butter, we know where to go.
I entered the mall, searched the eyewear store, found one, bought the solution, walked out through the back door, where I discovered another set of 5 similar stores tucked away. It happens that this solution is not a rare commodity in this part of the country.
Thanks g-d.
I drove back and 20 minutes later, I entered Wuduhe village, trudging carefully along the narrow concrete road between a deep ditch and the villages houses' walls, whose inhabitants are already in the dark ready to sleep. I finally reached the house, tucked away at the end of the village, just beside the chestnut orchards. It was 7:00 PM, I felt I had moved in that amount of time 50 years back in time.
The kids put on their new super-duper chinese thick PJs, we tucked them in bed, and we sat back and toasted to the last 3 years of our life in a country that never cease to surprise us.

Sprouts springing up!

Here is the invite!



It was fun!!! Too bad you did not make it!





Subtext:
No we do not give booze to the kids yet. The photographer had to free his hands.

Subtext 2:
A certain amount of effort was given in the cake making exercise by the maternal element of the family unit (but unfortunately the photographer missed a global shot of these oeuvres d'art).
An orange and green dinosaur was created thanks to a good old cake mold (and admittedly some cake mix). In addition, despite a couple of failed attempt at the creation of small engines and wagons (yes, cake mix are hard to do), rescued by the creative use of colored glazing and candies, a small train was prepared, and enjoyed by the small crew of invitees. Cake mix with colored (edible) sparkles created a certain type of effect ensuring no parents would consider taking a piece away from their kids.

Subtext 3:
Each of our boys had another birthday celebration in their respective school on the following Wednesday. Since then, Noam is convinced that he is now 5 years old. His teacher said so. We need to go talk to her tomorrow morning to correct this situation.

yoga-ed!

Over several years now, yoga has been a steady element in my life. When I started practicing, thirteen years ago, in Vancouver, I discovered something that really allowed my mind to be free of worries, for the time of the practice, at least. While at first it was something I did for my own benefit, I eventually started to teach, initially informally to friends and acquaintances, for the pleasure and for the lack of other alternatives. (Think Ziguinchor or Brazaville, where the local yoga school was not yet opened).
In Washington, I fell in love with post-natal yoga. A great way to take myself out of the house and move with my little one. I did it as much as I could, met wonderful people and teachers, and went on doing a training. When I landed in Beijing, I started teaching at Yoga Yard Mommy and Me yoga.
Then last fall, when a special Yoga Teacher Training came to Beijing, I registered, thinking it would be a fun way to officialize my skills. Which turned out to be fun indeed, but also quite serious. Our teacher, Matthew Cohen, was quite interestingly fusing yoga with martial arts - qi gong and tai chi - in what he called SEA (Sacred Energy Arts). It was compelling, challenging and enlightening. And not to mention, frustrating and demanding at times, too.
There I have met amazing people, and I have learned about myself in a different way. I am glad I completed this training, and I hope to make use of what I have learned in the yoga studio as well as in my daily life.

After completing 4 modules and 222 hours of training, countless hours of practice and a great number of observation classes,  I can now say that I am a real yoga teacher, a Yoga Alliance registered one! At last!

At last, school!!!

We arrived from Canada a few days after mid august, and yet school was only starting at the beginning of september. A long long long wait for little boys who are excited to start school and meet their new friends.
This year we took the decision to change Noam from a private Chinese kindergarten (5 min walk from our place) to the French School. Language was the main reason behind this change, wanting to provide him with an environment that would provide better support for language that is difficult to learn and master. We also figured that since both my husband and I believe English can be learned and master much more easily, and also can be learned about anywhere in the world, we would put emphasis on the other languages. Hebrew is a bit more difficult as most things related to Hebrew here are related to religion, which we are not really interested for our kids now. The "new" school is not too far from our place, in Sanlitun and Noam must ride a bus. He is now really proud to get in every morning, and wave at us from inside. He looks so small in it!
On his first day at school, he met his new friends (22 of them), and took note of his new surrounding. A big change from Eton school: there are about 400 students in the Maternelle campus this year, and everyone meets outside to play during breaks. Then the meals are taken at La Cantine, which is cute with its round yellow arches. But it also quite busy every lunchtime, with so many kids.
We met his teachers yesterday, and they both confirmed that Noam is doing great, integrating well and making new friends easily. Indeed Noam has two teachers, as he is in a special bilingual French/Chinese class. So in one given day, Noam is speaking French with Marie, and the next, he speaks Chinese with Hei Laoshi. It is really exciting, even our ayi noted that Noam has gained in vocabulary in the course of two weeks! This a group that was created three years ago by two teachers that are found of language integration, and of the chinese culture. We are fortunate that we have such passionate teachers for him.
 





Emmanuel, on his side, is integrating Noam's old kindergarten Eton School for a few hours every morning. Since his birth, he has seen his big brother emerge from this school every afternoon, so when we went to accompany him for his first day, he knew what was there for him, and was really happy to go in. He was eager to explore his classroom, and to discover all sorts of new "toys". But he is not yet used to say goodbye when we drop him off. Yet when ayi fetches him at lunch time, he wants to stay longer to play!


Here Emmanuel's his first day, getting his dad to tell a story.

Flying home

Many times I have had the feeling of being perceived as a "hero" when I mention that I fly alone with my two kids. In fact, I am afraid that if I brag about how easy our return from Canada was, the next flight will be simply ho-ri-ble... So I will not mention the fact that they slept almost at take off and that we did not spill anything on each other. Considering that we did not have a window in our "window-seat", and that we sat 3 on 2 seats, it is not so bad...

The real challenge for me remains the jet-lag. Alone I can beat it more easily, trying to adjust my sleep in the plane depending on my arrival hour (if arriving in the day, sleeping in the plane, if arriving in the night, awake in the flight). It already has some limitation (what if you take more than 24 hours to get there, or if you have problematic fellow passengers). Usually, when I am flying with the kids, I can't sleep. (And probably my direct neigborgs too.) Mama bear reflex or simple discomfort, not sure. But it makes my own recovery from it all much more painful since, upon arrival, everyone else wakes up again and again at odd hours for a few days in a row (I need to sleep, even if not much!) At times (and specially this last time), it brought me back to when I was breastfeeding Emmanuel right after his birth, when he had jaundice. Or it also reminds of when I was in architecture school. Yes, it was that intense.
But I have to admit that apart from these jet lagged happy hours in the middle of the night upon landing, the boys are pretty good travelers. They have a passport to prove it, of course. But beyond that, they are excited by the idea of taking a plane, they love plane-spotting in the airport, and they also love the airplane food - well, I should say, they are excited at getting the meal tray (at least, even if most of the food stays on it).
Beyond that, when I look at it more globally, they seem to inherently accept differences.  And from Tel Aviv to Quebec to Beijing, there are extreme differences in the way people look, dress and talk. I am still wondering how this whole experience of "world citizenship" will shape them, how they will define their own identity. We will keep working at opening their eyes on the world at large, and hopefully they will be able to shape their lives at a similar scale.