Cubed water

With the CCTV tower, the Egg and the Bird Nest, Beijing stock of architectural icons is significant and impressive.  Also an iconic figure of Beijing's cityscape, the Water Cube really tries hard to be more than just a boxed memory of a great year – the year when China became part of our conscious universe. (hint: 2008)

Like many other Olympic cities, Beijing prepared to cast an unforgettable show, and created a stock of facilities that were in themselves real architectural and engineering prowess's.

Designed by the Australian group PTW, the international engineering group Arup and the Chinese group CSCEC, the Water Cube - which housed the Olympic Pool - is a simple steel structure covered with translucent plastic panels. Their unusual shape, bulging out of the metal structure that frames the building, makes them good solar captors, allowing to save about 30% on heating, pretty much as much as if its roof would be covered in solar panels. From the inside, the ambiance is pleasant; a nice flow of light comes in, no matter if the polluted smog hovers around or not.
Exactly two years after the Olympics, the Water Cube started his new life as an aquatic park.

So during the peak of winter, at a period of the year auspiciously called Spring Festival!! - don't get me started about this - what can we do when it is a few degrees below zero outside without any snow, with some free time with the kids, knowing that most friends have escaped under more auspicious weather? Beat the climate, put on the bathing suits and get our feet in some warm water!  Water Cube, here we come!

First we packed a picnic to avoid some dreadful Chinese fast food (imagine pogo meat sticks of unknown source, sweet old popcorn, ramen noodles, super deep fried chicken bits - more batter than meat - and bad coffee).

We did fail at our first attempt. Going the day before the national holiday was supposedly not wise, the security staff told us.  The day before the national holiday is that important night you have to be home. (chinese logic is somewhat elusive to me at times). So we kept our lunches ready and headed there the following day, on the national holiday, not really knowing what to expect.

And we were happily surprised!!!
The main is space is taken by a fairly large beach-like pool with warm water, with a hourly set of waves, complete with typical Chinese animation (loud music, group hand clapping and door prizes). There are some kiddies pools and slides of appropriate scale, in colorful arrangements. Then towering these, for for the big kids, some crazy fast slides (me and Pauli each tried our own). There is also some very very impressive inner tubes rides, large than one could imagine possible. And on one side, around some very colorful fun slides and inner tubes cool rides, crowned by a large box constantly filled with water, periodically tipping over its content on the unsuspecting crowd. More inner tubes rides for various ages are colorfully organized under that area.  
Furthermore and more surprisingly, the water and the beach are relatively clean, lockers rooms in good order – after three years in China (among which we logged a canceled gym membership due to lack of cleanliness, an aborted hot spring romantic afternoon due to sanitation reasons, and several other tiptoeing exercises in random places), we admittedly were ready for worst.  Maybe this was due to the high entry fee? Indeed, 200 RMB is rather a steep price for working middle class Beijinger.

When we left, Noam said he did not have fun; he really wanted to do the large rides with his friend Ofek… Next year!!! But we were guarantied a good night of sleep, with all this splashing around!

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.

Mommy, Noam, He is What?

Last week, I just picked up the boys' Israeli passports. These are their fourth ones. No, I do not mean their fourth Israeli passports. No, these are their fourth passport, after their American, their Canadian, and their Polish ones. A real bunch of globetrotters. And it makes me look like a poor mother, with only one passport!

This is a picture I took of family's passports... We are a family of four, for those who do not know us.

For those unfamiliar with the passport business, nope, you can't buy these online (or else we would not have so many people lining up our embassies). As they were born in the States, the kids automatically got the citizenship, and now for most travels, they have been using this passport. Since Pauli and I are respectively Israeli and Canadian citizens, the kids also qualify for those two nationalities. Of course with different countries, different rules, so even if they would have been born here in Beijing, they could never be Chinese, and even if one of us two parents would be Chinese, they would eventually have to make a decision between one and another, as China does not allow dual citizenship. The Polish one? Well, Pauli's parents are of Polish origin, and since Pauli also has this citizenship, the kids automatically qualify for it. The only drawback to all of these is the amount of paperwork. But as you see, it is possible.
Now, time will tell what use they will be able to make out of them. Already last week, when I applied for Russian visas (we are traveling via Moscow to Israel next week), I realized that Polish passports were better, granting for cheaper visas (50$ instead of 150$ or so!). And only later I will come to realize that for this specific destination, Israeli passports are best (free)... 

So indeed our kids are globe-trotters. They already have logged many visas, many long flights, and many immigration officers. But are they only that? Defacto, they are citizen of the world. Later, when one will ask them where are they from, they might have trouble answering... Today, Noam says he is Canadian (proud mommy) but is he really? I was just reading about similar questioning in a blog...

Kids born from parents of different cultures already have a faire bit to process. If they live in one of the parents' birth country, the answer might become easier with time, as they immersed completely in that primary culture. However, when these mixed couples raise their kids in a (third) different culture, then things becomes more tricky. Are our kids Israeli or French-Canadian, or simply American? Are they Jewish or Christian? Can they be all of that together?

Take Emmanuel. Born in the US, he spent most of the 20 months of his long life in China. One month last summer in Canada, one month at birth in the US, 3 weeks in Israel last year and 2 more soon. So he is maybe more Chinese than others. But is he? We obviously do not eat dumplings daily and do not do like the Chinese in most of what we do. But he needs his daily rice! We do not dress Chinese, we do not cook Chinese, we do not spit in public, we do not even speak good Chinese... Well, I might drive now like a Chinese, but I don't think it applies.
In fact, outside of our respective cultures, I came to realize we need to find (and create) references and markers to maintain some of our own cultural identities, and to create our own unique family identity. So, to the despair of my dear husband who finds religion cumbersome, I try to ensure the kids get a bit of a Jewish culture at specific holiday times. But yet I also celebrate our usual Christian holidays, and try to also include some of our traditions. The tricky part for a parent is to know what is important, and how to carry that cultural baggage without too much effort. So it appears it is easier to make a Christmas tree than to make a Seder dinner... We still have to work on that.

One of the main determinant of a culture is its language. So here in Beijing, we try to maintain the Hebrew and the French language. We do it because both are important for me and my husband, respectively, in how we define ourselves. But also because we feel that it can be a strong baggage for our kids' future. So to avoid confusions, I address the kids in French, and Pauli in Hebrew. It has been great for me, now my Hebrew is at the level of a 3 and half year old. Then me and Pauli converse mostly in English. So the kids get exposed to the English language in that way, but also in kindergarten, where Noam has now extensive conversations in English with his little friends. And then of course, by being in China and having a Chinese nanny, we all speak a bit of Chinese, sort of. The kids are really good at it. What is really amazing is that amongst all this mix of languages, the kids seem to make sense of it. When Noam was about a year and half, he could already ask for water in French, in Chinese and in Hebrew, knowing whom to ask in which language.

We have this book at home. It is 42 pages of Hellos, in 42 languages. The book is filled with cute little drawings of kids faces, and not other text than the various forms of greetings. When I first read it first to Noam he asked me right away: "Mommy, Noam, he is what?" I pointed at the little girl with the frizzy hair that says "Shalom", the one with straight brown hair that says "Bonjour", the little boy with a cap that says "Hello" and the little almond-eyed girl that says "Nihao" and told him that he is lucky because he is all of those all together, and that makes him quite special. I am not sure he understood well what it meant but in any cases, he looked happy to be 4 different little guys at one.   

While Everything was Popping Around

As every year now, for Chinese New Year we took off to avoid the major party that takes over Beijing. Yeah, we love the sparkling, noisy, crowded experience of the city under the New Year frenzy - but after a bit of rest somewhere else. So while everything was popping around Beijing, we took off to warmer destination.
This year we courageously decided to get out of the usual beach holiday, and went on a small tour of South-East Asia in 12 days. Hanoi (Vietnam), Siem Reap (Cambodia) and Luang Prabang (Laos) with a few more days in Hanoi to complete our tour. We went with our great Israeli friends and their kids, which made the trip an even more memorable one.
Hanoi was a wonderful reconnection to an Asia I was looking for (and never found) when we were first landing in Beijing a few years ago : scooter and bicycle herds, pointy hats, street vendors, mess. With its little narrow houses that rise side by side along busy streets, development that seems to be going unplanned, it was surprising and lovely.  At the end of our tour we stayed with a couple of our friends, who introduced us to some of the best restaurants in town.








Siem Reap was wonderful for all the temples it has to offer. In the middle of the jungle, the city is there only because of them, and of the millions of tourists that come visit it. And still, there is a cool vibe to the markets and streets of the city. There is real magic, elegance and wealth of craftsmanship to these temples. Their splendor granted them a title as World Heritage Site by Unesco. Angkor Wat, the largest and richest of all, Angkor Thom, amazing with its massive smiling faces, Bayon, where the trees overtook the stone; were the major temples we visited, but we could have spent a week to visit the hundred other sites around the city. Noam and Noay loved playing Indiana Jones among the ruins. On our first night, I got my feet tickled by those little fish. One night we found a great French restaurant with hanging orchids all over the terrace, and great steak tartare (obviously not a local dish). We visited a floating village, toured a craftsman factory, the local museum and a museum to the war.







Luang Prabang was as wonderful, in a different way. An old colonial town set along the Mekong, it as beautiful as quaint. Listed as a Unesco Heritage city, it existence is mainly for tourist, but despite that it is vibrant and lovely. We took a tour on the river, hiked to a waterfall, and visited some local villages. We would have needed more time to enjoy all the little secrets of this city - and I hope to return.








For the curious ones, more photos can be found here...

Kids Love

With their "one kid only" allowance, the Chinese can't help longing for more and more "baby time". They completely go gaga for kids, specially the 外国的 "wayguo" ones, the forginer kids.  Their features, complexion, hair and eyes colors mesmerizing them, when it is not their "tricks". 

Since we are here, I have witness first hand how much they love kids. Of course, it has certainly something due to the one child policy.  But I think it goes beyond that. In general, Asia is a culture fascinated with kids stuff, and China is no different on the matter.

Since our arrival in Beijing, Noam was picked up countless amount of times by pure strangers. He was even extricated of his high chair in a restaurant, without any attempt to check if OK with the parents (us). In numerous places we have seen him being entertained by a group of staff, everyone leaving their tasks to play with him, to free our hands while we eat, for exemple. Strangers would follow us to take his picture, or ask us to pose with him. Other would give him candies, cookies or balloons. People would turn around and comment on him, on his hair or his smile. And they still do today. Here is a shot taken in Chengdu, where Noam is definitely the center of attention!

But the arrival of Emmanuel has shifted the center of attention away from Noam. It even shocked me when we just returned from Washington after the birth. "Hey, Ho! Look at the big kid too, you can see his big blue eyes too! He still needs your attention!"
If I stay standing still in a public place for a few minutes, with Emmanuel in my arms, it is a matter of a couple minutes for someone to approach us. Then, there is this very gentle clapping of the hands done while smiling and cooing at him, followed by a soft opening of the hands, palms open towards the sky. These hands are saying: "Come in my arms, baby!" Everyone does it, everyone loves doing it! Waiters at restaurants, clerks in stores, grandmas around the parks, young men in computer stores, even grumpy taxi drivers. It is funny. And Emmanuel enjoys jumping in new arms, he smiles and grins happily. I guess his enthusiasm might eventually wear off, as Noam's did, after countless strangers saying exactly the same things, touching and grabbing endlessly.
Indeed, Noam now is not only not interested, he hides behind my legs when strangers comes too close, and he resist most conversations people would want to start with him, mostly by doing some kind of high pitch squeal. I also have been over time dealing with it differently. At first, I was extremely reluctant to let Noam being picked up by a stranger. Dirty hands? Maybe. But not only. Certainly the frustration at times that I was not addressed by the stranger, or that my child was taken out of my sight (maybe not far but still)... At others, maybe the sense that we have just become a live walking show or zoo animals... Then one day I gave a yoga class to a couple of Beijing moms. One came with her mother, and each with her child. I gave my lessons, and midway, one child cried a bit and grandma picked him up. A few minutes later the other one started fussing and not his mom, but the other one bend down to take care of him. This little baby exchange enlightened me a bit on how flexible and sincere their care and love of the children are. (Of course we are not talking here about issues related to sex selection for their unique child...)  Since my arrival in Beijing, I have learned to relax and encourage Noam's interaction with the crowd. And with time, I came to appreciate the help and the good intentions, and even the attention (unless in Chinese tourists hangout).

So for Chinese New Year, Paul's office gathered all the staff, spouses and children. And within ten minutes, my hands were freed from Emmanuel, as he was carried away by a bunch of Paul's giggling and ecstatic co-workers. At some point I attempted to recuperate him before his nap, to feed him, unsuccessfully. He was a star, and as the perfect little baby, only smiled and cooed. 

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas / Joyeux Noël / 圣诞节快乐

A tree to make kids smile...

Oysters and champagne, a maple-glazed turkey (delayed but still tasty) and its nut and cranberry stuffing, a "tourtière" (traditional Québec meat pie), a mushroom pie, mash potatoes, aspargus, a savory feta cheese herb loaf and a fresh endive salad and the table is set. A layered creamy apple spice cake, a gingerbread house for the kids (a hoot!) and a pie to top off our indulging bellies. Kids opening their presents and braking the roof of the gingerbread house, and our friends toasting to our blessings!
Joyeux Noël!

Hannukah's Candles

The holiday season here in Beijing is long and filled with fun. It starts with Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of light. Day after day, for 8 days, candles are lit, one additional light on each night of the holiday. It is the commemoration of rededication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, in 2nd century BC (thanks Wiki).

For Hanukkah, we had not 8 but 9 candle lighting!!! Well, I should say that we missed the first lighting at the Chabad because we got delayed in traffic. And we lit the last and the supplemental ones with some friends. As Pauli was away for most of the week, and since I do not know those songs yet, I could only wait for some more experienced folks. Next year, maybe we will do better use of our hanukkiah.

In any cases, needless to say that kids love it. And that the best part are Manor's freshly home made sufganiots, those sweet donuts! Yummy!

Bali Bali

Here is a collection of our best moments. It was as promised: amazingly pleasant, charming people with amazing smiles, a culture filled with soft and flowery rituals, a temple-sprinkled island that charmed us like so many other tourists. Noam led our days, choosing to stroll around the grassy patch or to splash the frogs with pool water. Bali is a wanderlust island, covered in jungle forest, moss and tropical plants, everywhere. Hindu temples are sprinkled everywhere, sometimes in people's yard, most times they are gathered in compounds, while across the street other compounds are also having altars, offerings and statues. I particularly like the aesthetics of the temple gates; the sharp volcanic stone, intricately carved with fauna, flora and divinities, is like a large decorated column cut in half, with each of the halves spread apart to allow the passage of the believers. As if the deity had allowed for the stone to be cut apart to facilitate its access for the devotee. And rituals are filling the days of the Balinese, while flowers and offerings are scattered everywhere, in front of doors, on pathways, in front of stores. Maybe that closeness to their gods as paid off with providing them with the most amazing smiles and an extreme kindness, and a lush and beautiful earth.

We have been touched, and we would have like to stay longer. 

Here is a visual summary of our trip: