~Jenni/Fangfang/Wu Xiaofang
June 22, 2011 Beijing
Whew! What a adventure already. The plane ride to Haneda Airport in Japan was only 10 hours. I find that one of the best and most unexpected gifts I find on my paths are the interesting people I meet. I sat next to a 40 year old dad on the plane. He was more talkative than I am! Due to the fact that he requested I not use his name and other personal information, I'll introduce him as Ping. Our conversation topic varied from why I was traveling on my own to his amazing network of highly successful cohorts to how to keep the door open for his two Chinese-American kids. Ping grew up in Malaysia and attended college in the States (Oklahoma University and Stanford). He says he has no idea how he ended up in Oklahoma. He married at 19 and speaks more than three languages. But nonetheless, Ping was so humble and honest. And gentle. I was having technological problems, but thanks to Ping (who has a Ph.D in rocket science ), my problems were solved with ease. We kept each other company both on the way to Haneda and the plane ride to Beijing. Ping kept urging me to study business or economics in college, but I kept insisting that I was not cut out for such cut throat/dry work. He told me that he had a few good friends who graduated from Mount Holyoke. "The Mount Holyoke girls are smart and confident. Very confident. And smart." Ping also mentioned that a lot of the MIT guys go fishing around at Mount Holyoke for girlfriends (this is because the guys tend to be quirky and a bit shy, according to Ping). Toward the end of our flight to Beijing, Ping and I talked about my ambitions of building a school in southern China. He offered a different, unexpected perspective, "I think you should think bigger. How about getting investors, the local government, and maybe a university to invest in your project?" I shook my head at first, but something in his determination told me that he believed my silly idea would work, but that it would work if only it involved more stakeholders. Ping explained that by generating interest and income, the local governments might be less tempted to disrupt the school and they might even be more invested in their investment. Money speaks, eh? My most poignant memory of Ping was that he kept questioning and probing me for one answer - how could he prepare his 12 year old daughter to do what I do now? I didn't have a solid answer for him. I described my mother's networking skills in China, a passion for travel and adventure and independence, and a sharp awareness for people and places. At the end of all of this, I shrugged my shoulders and began to realize that a lot of self-reflection was needed on my part. Ping suggested that I come to his family's local high school and tell my story. He even gave me lessons in how to deliver messages so that they could be better heard by a younger audience. "How do you do know so much about this?", I asked him. He smiled."I used to be a head consultant at a firm."
My friend, Ping, helping me with my iPhone in the Haneda Airport.
My delicious and colorful lunch on my flight!June 23, 2011 Beijing
I began my day with going to a yoga class! When I got to the yoga studio, which was more of a fitness center located in a surprisingly quiet area of Beijing, I was introduced to "soma" yoga. I usually do Bikram yoga (in El Cerrito) which is yoga in a 100 degree room. Yes, I know what you're thinking... who is crazy enough to do that?! Me. Anyhow, apparently there was no Bikram class today, so instead, I did Soma yoga. The class completely killed me! It was 40% humidity (which is a crazy amount). The teacher was a Chinese woman who has practiced yoga for over 11 years and was also the 2005 world yoga champion. Quite impressive! She taught the class in both Chinese and English. Her name is Hui Ping. She developed Soma yoga. Anyhow, Soma was developed based on Bikram, so the class was 90 minutes long with all of the same poses plus ten more. Each class costs 150 RMB, which is about $23 - very pricey for a class, but any high end fitness facility in a major city in China is expensive. The yoga room had hard wooden floors (Bikram yoga classes in America usually have carpeted rooms) and the ceiling was no more than 7 feet high. It felt a bit claustrophobic. I met a Norwegian woman in the class who had lived in China for seven years because she was studying Chinese opera! She left the class early because she had to perform at the Beijing Opera House. I'll spare you guys the details, but let's just say I felt sick to my stomach throughout most of the class, but I really did not want to give up, so I tried all the postures. It was quite a humbling experience. Back in El Cerrito, I have gone to Bikram everyday for over a year and a half, so I've gotten quite good; this means that I forget what it feels like to be embarrassed because you cannot do a pose or to feel completely wiped out and unable to even stand up. It was a good awakening for me. I had to rest for a good 40 minutes before I could even get up! After yoga, I met up with my friend Forest, whom I met last year (half German, half Chinese). He is now the China manager for ARRI - the biggest manufacturer and provider of movie cameras and lenses in the world.
After a nice dumpling lunch, I headed to the China Center for Adoption Affairs (CCAA). It actually has a different name now but it is the same place. For those who are unfamiliar with the CCAA, this is where ALL foreign adoptions are processed now. They hold the key to China adoption today. The CCAA, just for the record, does not have its own office building, so it was very difficult to find. It is located within a larger building. Anyhow, I raced there and arrived at 3:50 (due to heavy traffic). There I met Mr. Liu Han Sheng (the guy in charge of the Department of Paperwork/Files). I was out of breath by the time I got up to the 13th floor of the building, after running around to three different floors due to misdirection but I finally arrived to an office area that had two different rooms with a few modest cubicles and three or four workers. When I walked in, Mr. Liu and a few of the workers immediately crowded in and gave me my file, which was waiting atop a stack of papers on his desk. I had called the CCAA yesterday and was directed to him. Just as an FYI, you do not need an appointment with the CCAA to see your file (you must be age 18 or older), but you do need to call ahead of time because they have to get your file transferred from a separate storage unit. I told my story to Mr. Liu and the three ladies who had gathered around to listen. They kept complimenting me on my Chinese. So, for those parents who are reading this, please, please, try and maintain some Mandarin for your children. It will help them a ton! I promise. Anyhow, because of my Mandarin, Mr. Liu was very generous in how he allocated all the information in my file. Drum roll please, mum! It has been a dream of my mother's for many, many years to get a copy of the police report in my adoption file. The Kunming Orphanage has notoriously never shared such things. Mr. Liu made me a copy of my police report. After reading the police report to me several times, I just sat in awe. The police report (according to Mr. Liu) was more detailed than most he had seen. It described all the clothes I wore that day, my cropped hair, and my unusual "noticeable" nose (great...). It also told of the fact that I had told them my name was Wu Xiao Fang and that I provided them with my age. They police report also said I had a Zhao Tong accent and that I was found in front of a bus stop/train station. I'll stop here with the details. For the first time, in my life, I felt some kind of closure. For years, I have had doubts about whether my past and my abandonment were real or if everything was just a bad dream. I wondered if I had dreamed up my abandonment and my birth mother just to make myself feel like I had somewhat of a past. After reading the police report, I did not feel like all the mysteries of my past were solved, but I felt a small wave of doubt mollified somewhere deep in my mind and soul. That wave had been beating at my subconscious for all these years. I wondered if the story I have told for thirteen years was true. I really wondered. I do not know exactly how I feel right now, but I know what I will be doing in Kunming!
One of the very kind women who I met at the CCAA who listened to my story.Mr. Liu told me a story about a boy named Li, who was adopted by an American couple around 1997. Just a year ago, his Chinese parents contacted him and his American family. He rejected them. It turns out that his Chinese mother from some part of Jiangsu province (where my sister, Jiawen is from) had taken him to the city and while she had her back turned to buy a snack, the boy disappeared. He was taken to the police station. According to the mother, because she had a panic attack, she did not think of going to the police to find her son. By the time her family went to the city to look for the boy, he had been adopted. Li is a young man now. He is now is rejecting his Chinese parents because he feels that his mother purposefully left him. Mr. Liu said that you cannot tell who has the right story. Truth has two faces perhaps. Mr. Liu told me this story because it reminded him of my story in that I had a deep understanding and memory of my abandonment. Before I left, Mr. Liu showed me all the new compilations of paperwork his unit had put together for the newly adopted kids this year. I asked how many children were adopted this year. He replied with 4000 to 5000, 60% went to the US. I asked him if kids often came back for their files. He told me that some kids come back, but most do not find anything significant in their files. I told him that I was so appreciative of his efforts and all he had done for me. He wished me luck on finding my Chinese parents as I held back tears. I said to him behind watery eyes,"You know, I don't blame them. I don't blame my parents. I just want to find them to tell them I still love them." He nodded his head,"You have more information than most kids do. You're a special kid, all of you are."
Mr. Liu at the CCAA. I will be forever indebted to him for his kindness and understanding.
When I was really small, my mum told me that she learned that Yunnan, my province, was the only place in China that was home to indigenous elephants. From that time forward, I felt a special bond with those majestic creatures and have had various elephant collections as the years have passed. Mr. Liu said that Li (the boy adopted in 1997) and I had a deep "yin xiang", which means that our pasts left deep, lasting impressions on us, just as elephants have a way of remembering an entire lifetime. 
Some elephants in Yunnan. You will see elephants depicted and honored in Yunnan almost everywhere you go.
June 25, 2011
When I finally arrived at the station, Mr. Cheng picked me up. Ａs he grinned and said, "The child has gotten taller", he stuck his hand out for a handshake. I rejected it and gave him a warm hug, which he accepted in his own way. I felt like I had somehow returned home. Mr. Cheng took me back to the office where I stayed last summer. It was completely empty, empty except for a few computers and two worn-out cots. It didn't much look like a home, but I felt that way anyway. My wash basin and tea cup I had left last year were neatly stored away in a cabinet. After I washed up, I walked to the small grocery store in town and bought some "suan nai", which is a yogurt drink. Later that day, Mr. Cheng told me about how he was working on a new initiative. He and his organization called ActionAid International purchased a fair amount of land in the countryside and are currently teaching farmers how to farm using organic practices. It's actually quite wonderful! As I was telling Mr. Cheng about my trip to the CCAA, he said that I was "you xiu", which in a simplified translation means outstanding. He continued to tell me that my Chinese parents had really missed out and that they had thrown out a good lottery ticket. I said in response,"I don't think I would be as awesome if I had stayed in China with my parents. I wouldn't have gotten the education I have now, plus everything else. My Chinese parents didn't know that I was going to be outstanding. I got to be where I am because of my American parents." He shook his head and said,"The "you xiu" comes from within, it's not made or synthesized. You're just born with it."
Later that day, I went on a lengthier walk. As I did, I kept my eye out for any sign of Dou Dou (the little dog I fell in love with last summer). I felt helpless. Every time I saw a yellowish colored dog, I would think it was her. My heart was broken when I couldn't bring her to Beijing with me last year. I felt as if I had failed her. It was broken again when I heard from Mr. Cheng that he had lost Dou Dou somewhere along the way back from the train station. She never returned. I was so shattered because I knew she would never come back even if I tried everything. She ran away, she ran into oblivion, into a life of street-picking and constant pregnancy.
June 26, 2011
When we got back, I helped clean up the office a bit and rested. Feeling a little bored, I went for my daily walk as I did last year. As I walked around, I kept seeing little stray dogs that looked similar to Dou Dou, but at that point, I was feeling so desperate that I just gave up. As a neared the newer part of the village town, which was crammed with new apartment buildings, I saw a group of people gathering around and I heard some very loud music. On a make-shift stage, there were four women dressed up in Tibetan costumes and a man in a awkward suit and two balding men in police attire. The Tibetan girls and suited man were singing as the police guys played drums...very badly, I might add. I saw fake paper wreathes adorned with red crosses - the kind of wreathes you would see at a funeral. I stopped to listen. Turns out that the group was there to preach about God. They were passing out free small bibles - and you know the Chinese, they appreciate anything and everything that is free. After listening for two minutes, I resumed my walking. As I approached the older part of town, where I am staying, I suddenly looked down on the street. In a mound of dirty food, there was a small and scrawny pale yellow dog. She looked up at me with a row of crooked teeth. Her little eyes stared at me for just so long. I knew then and there that it was my Dou Dou. I called her name several times, but she only looked up a few times. She was busy digging for food. I noticed that her little nipples were hanging from her belly. As I stared at her, she began to notice my presence. Soon, I found myself sprinting after her. She was so fast! Ally after ally she ran. I crammed myself into some pretty narrow brick huts just to keep up. A few times I thought I had lost her, but I could hear the barking of dogs as she passed by groups of them. Finally, she stopped in a narrow street lined with brick entrances. She sat there, in front of a steel door. I slowly approached her, completely out of breath at that point. As we both calmed down, I knelt in front of her and whispered her name. Slowly, she sat down and offered out her nose to sniff my outstretched hand. And slowly, she allowed me to touch her paw and then her head. As I finally picked her up, I noticed the same patterning as I had remembered on her little body. As I held her in my arms, I walked slowly home cooing her name to her. I had found her and she had found me. Mr. Cheng said that this dog and I had "yuan fen" - we were meant to meet. After taking her to the public bath house and giving her a thorough bath, I brought her home and gave to her a large bowl of milk. She was back and I was happy. I've been holding her in a blanket like a baby since then. She is indeed the same Dou Dou as she was last summer. As we reunited, it was as if a year hadn't even passed, save for her swollen belly and rather rough fur. For the cynics out there: love may not conquer all, but it works some amazing miracles.
Dou Dou sleeping on my bed, one year later.
June 27, 2011
The old men and I chatted about the differences between America and China. When they marveled at my volunteer work, I said that while China was busy building towers, America was working on building society. Despite my public criticism of both governments, these older men seemed to enjoy a different perspective. One of them exclaimed,"Wait, I read somewhere that Americans are thieves who steal from the Middle East and China!" I replied, "And you believe everything the newspapers report?" He looked a little shocked at first and then he blushed. "He's the only one who can read the newspaper out of all of us!" one of his buddies proclaimed proudly. The guy eating a piece of bread in the picture was once a soldier stationed somewhere in central China. He was so proud of it that he told us the entire story of how he rescued a horse from catching on fire! One of the more poignant things I remember from our discussion is that one of the guys said out of the blue,"The person who thinks he is ahead is always the one left behind." It's an old Mao quote... One of the more funny moments was when one of the guys asked,"What do Mexican people look like?"
June 27, 2011
Returning to Chai Gou Pu (the small city village where I spent most of my time last summer teaching English) was easier this time in some ways and harder in others. The easy party was the train ride. Last summer, as some of you may recall, I spent the 4+ hours standing. People were sick right beside me. This year, I arranged for a "bed seat" It cost me a lot more than a ticket in the standing section, but it was well worth it. 
The train beds on my train to Chai Gou Pu
The train beds on my train to Chai Gou PuI noticed that almost everyone in this "luxurious" part of the train was male. It was quite alarming at first, because I realized that in my little train car, there were a total of four women as opposed to the 20+ guys I counted. I am assuming this is due money (these seats cost a fortune for most of the riders who are mostly peasants) and most of the men in my train car looked like they were going on a business trip of some kind. 
All I have to say is that most of the men in my train car were quite immature. Most were well over 20, but were talking about things that 13 year olds would giggle about. For the last two hours of the train ride, I gave my bed/seat to a young grandmother who was traveling home with her grand-daughter. They could only afford a ticket in the sitting train cars, but apparently, those sections were too noisy and uncomfortable for the baby girl to fall asleep in. I offered mine up, not just because I felt bad that I could afford a such luxury, but also because the beds in my car were not very comfortable or very clean for that matter. Since I was not making good use of what I had purchased, I reasoned that my seat belonged to someone more deserving of its use.
The young grandma and baby I gave up my bed to.
All I have to say is that most of the men in my train car were quite immature. Most were well over 20, but were talking about things that 13 year olds would giggle about. For the last two hours of the train ride, I gave my bed/seat to a young grandmother who was traveling home with her grand-daughter. They could only afford a ticket in the sitting train cars, but apparently, those sections were too noisy and uncomfortable for the baby girl to fall asleep in. I offered mine up, not just because I felt bad that I could afford a such luxury, but also because the beds in my car were not very comfortable or very clean for that matter. Since I was not making good use of what I had purchased, I reasoned that my seat belonged to someone more deserving of its use.
The young grandma and baby I gave up my bed to.Later that day, I went on a lengthier walk. As I did, I kept my eye out for any sign of Dou Dou (the little dog I fell in love with last summer). I felt helpless. Every time I saw a yellowish colored dog, I would think it was her. My heart was broken when I couldn't bring her to Beijing with me last year. I felt as if I had failed her. It was broken again when I heard from Mr. Cheng that he had lost Dou Dou somewhere along the way back from the train station. She never returned. I was so shattered because I knew she would never come back even if I tried everything. She ran away, she ran into oblivion, into a life of street-picking and constant pregnancy.
June 26, 2011
Today was quite something. I got up early and had breakfast at a street vendor with Mr. Cheng. Then, we headed off to his house. As his front door flung open, I saw a middle-aged woman with a pair of pants on and just a bra standing there vacuuming. She did not seem the least bit apologetic or surprised to see me. As we stared at each other for a moment, Mr. Cheng's 8 year-old son came running to the door. His son, Little Cheng, is not very tall, and quite chubby. He has leg braces as to aid him in walking. Mr. Cheng had told me that after several surgeries later, Little Cheng can finally waddle around with his braces. He is so chubby that his eyes are barely visible. Little Cheng waddled over to me and sniffed me like he was a small dog. He didn't have many social skills, but he was nevertheless very talkative. He asked me if I was English and I told him that I spoke English. He reckoned that that was good enough for him and grabbed me by the hand. The four of us sat down at Mr. Cheng's dining room table after his wife slipped on a shirt more fit for a teenager. Her eyebrows were almost completely shaved off and drawn on. It was quite a sight. Mr. Cheng is no taller than 5'7", so his wife, at 5'9" towered over him and he seemed to shrink as he sat down next to her. As we chatted, the wife and son ate the breakfast goods we had brought them. After they finished up, we drove for about 40 minutes out to the countryside. There in the rural plantations, Mr. Cheng showed us the plot of land in which he and his group were introducing organic farming. Nothing about the land seemed special, but the pride in Mr. Cheng's voice moved me to look closer. Since I last saw him, he has added a patch of gray hair atop his black stiff hair. He believes so much in sustainability and improving human capital that he has gone to such great heights just to do that very thing. Even if that means progress is slow. After a bit of farming - we gathered wild vegetables - we headed to his little office two minutes from the large patch of land. As his wife, son, and I rested, Mr. Cheng and his helper made lunch. It was delicious! We had man tou (Chinese plain buns) with a stew-like dish. After a few more hours there, we headed back to Chai Gou Pu. On the road home, Mr. Cheng and I had been talking about my heritage. He said,"All you Chinese adoptees are seedlings of our great ancestors, you were just planted and grown in American soil!"
My visit to Mr. Cheng's organic farm.
Dou Dou sleeping on my bed, one year later.
June 27, 2011
Today was my last day in Chai Gou Pu. I got up at 6 and by 7, I was off in a three wheeled taxi to the elementary school I taught at last summer. As soon I arrived, the school worker whose son was crippled because of gang-violence greeted me happily,"You're back!" His 5 year old daughter named Wen Wen, Yao (his son), and his wife came running out of their little hut. "Jie Jie's (older sister) back!" Wen Wen exclaimed. Then she hid timidly in the grasses remembering her shyness. 
Yao (pictured in wheelchair) gave me such a warm welcome back!
After I gave Yao and his family the small gifts of candy and such, I headed to the principal's office. There he greeted me along with four other male teachers/administrators. We chatted for a little bit. The principal kept asking me to marry his son and take him back to America with me. I just laughed and replied,"I don't think I would make a good wife and he won't like America." I noticed at one point that all the people who had come to greet me were men - female teachers had occasionally walked by, curiously looking in and then continuing on their way. The guys all asked if I had any American money. As I showed them a few bills they're faces gleamed. At some point or another, some of the guys had declared,"You've really grown to be beautiful!" I would reply sarcastically,"What? I was ugly before?" After our chat, the staff arranged for me to do my art workshop in their 'nicest' room. I taught 5 groups, which was a total of five hours straight. My first group included all the 3rd graders, the second group was 4th grade, third group 5th grade, etc. Each time a new class came in, I gave my little spiel about how I took their drawings they had drawn from last year back to America for the American kids to see. I told them how impressed the US students were. One of the administrators listening to my lesson burst out a few times,"That means that you guys better do a better job than last time and you must best the American kids' drawings! Understand?!" Oh, my. 
My Group shot of one of my classes.
I recognized most of the kids, but I noticed that some were missing. I hoped that those missing kids were absent due to illness... but I had a feeling that some of them had dropped out. This was a little overwhelming for me to think about. Despite this, I asked a few of the kids where the absent students were. Most of them replied that they had left after the fall semester, others never returned from last year.
The kids hard at work. I want to do more for them.
After my workshop, all I wanted to do was play and hang out with the kids a bit. But the principal insisted that he take me and a few of the (male) teachers out to lunch. I reluctantly gave in. During lunch, I asked a lot of questions about the kids. Only 50% of them graduate from middle school. Less than 30% make it to college. The others either stay home and farm or they attend vocational schools learning simple crafts such as carpentry and sewing. Most make less than $200 a year. I asked if there was anything I could do to keep the kids in school - maybe subsidizing the families to keep their kids in school? The principal said that it wasn't a simple matter of money - everything is dependent on the children's "conditions". He didn't specify further, but I presume it has something to do with money, culture, and the priorities of the parents. How can I change this? I bought the school a new water filter they requested last year, which helps keep the kids in school and out of the sick bed. But what else? I cannot change a culture or the traditional values of their beliefs. The principal seemed to be irritated at my probing. We ended on a high note though... "You have brought so much praise to my school from the parents, Little Lee! You must come back next year," the principal shouted through his pudgy cheeks as he drove off in his 2007 Acura.
Some of the older students who have managed to keep studying.
As I packed my things and went to say my last goodbye to the gatekeeper and her husband (they're in their 70's), the old Grandmother began to weep. "How come you are leaving so soon Little Lee? Stay awhile longer. I have some porridge I made for you, but it won't be ready till tonight," she pleaded. I felt so broken inside. I needed to get back to Beijing, but I wanted so badly to stay with the old woman and all my kids. "Come back next year, okay? You're coming back next year. I know you will."
"Yes, Grandmother, I'll be here again next year", I told her. "You take care of yourself so you'll be here when I return." I quivered as I realized that I had built yet another home in China.
The sweet Nai-Nai who wanted me to stay.
I ended up missing my train - actually, the train never stopped by Chai Gou Pu because they thought that no one was leaving from there (that's how small it is). But sometimes missed trains offer a better opportunity! In the next train, I gave my seat up five times to a small group of rural construction workers traveling to Beijing to find work. They were all 55 and up, but they looked so much older. When I asked if it was easy to find work in Beijing, they replied,"It's easy to find work, but it's hard to find work that pays enough." Most of them make less than $150 a year doing back-breaking lifting and building. Their only possessions were the clothes on their backs that day and whatever else they stuffed into their enormously huge plastic backpacks. I realize now that suitcases give you away - you need a paved road to roll a suitcase, which means you don't come from a village with unpaved everything.
My lively train companions on the way back to Beijing.
June 27, 2011
Back in Beijing today, I returned to the CCAA because I had been invited by Mr. Lou (director of the archives). He phoned me to tell me that Mr. Zhang wanted to meet me. For those of you who don't know who he is (I didn't either!), Mr. Zhang is the counselor general of the CCAA! His office, located on the 15th floor was lofty, spacious, and palacial. There I met him along with another head hancho (a woman we had met when my mother and I last visited the CCAA several years ago). There was a photographer, a journalist of some kind, and the head of some other department. They said they were all very proud of me and my accomplishments. Mr. Zhang, a stocky, middle aged man was very welcoming and surprisingly optimistic. He asked me to tell my story and explain why I still spoke Chinese so well. My ability to speak Chinese impressed them the most. Toward the end of the visit, he asked me to recount in an essay or in story form my life from my adoption to what it was like growing up in America. He then added that he would like me and ANY OTHER adoptee from China to write to the CCAA (English is fine) about their lives in America. In an effort to educate the Chinese population about adoption, the CCAA is putting together a website archive full of stories of adoptees. He says that China is curious about these girls and boys who are carried away to a foreign land and raised there. Mr. Zhang explained that this would be good for both the adoptees and the CCAA because it would help solve many of the misunderstandings and questions that so many Chinese people have about kids like me. So families and girls and boys alike, send in pictures, articles, poems, essays, etc. about your life as you know it. I think this may be our debut into the Chinese world of adoption! So start writing! I will find the email address that you should all send your material to before I leave here. After the meeting, Mr. Zhang said that I would always be welcome to visit and that he hoped that all the kids who return to China can somehow find a way to reconnect to their culture again. So it turns out, the people at the CCAA are really sweet and sympathetic people - not what I had expected. "You will be the ambassador of the ship of young people who return home to visit China, Fang Fang!" Mr. Zhang declared. This is indeed a very great honor and one I cherish.
Counselor General Zhang at the CCAA who invited me back to visit.
June 27, 2011
The smog in Beijing seems worse this year. The sky seems more grey and the air more thick.
A few days ago, I ran into three Americans who worked as English teachers in Korea. Andy, Megan, and Dan were all fairly young (under 30). I helped them navigate and bargain their way through the Pearl Market. On this particular trip, I have noticed that every time I approach and try to help a foreigner struggling to communicate with a Chinese person, I am shooed away. I am initially shocked and then I walk away feeling disrespected. The American teachers told me that in the Lonely Planet China guide book, there is a passage about not "falling for" Chinese students who speak decent English because they are known to take Americans to really expensive tea houses... hmmm. The four of us ended up having lunch. During lunch, we talked about the sad fact of Americans having to go abroad just to find teaching jobs.
I am officially at the Nikko Hotel. It's fancy! I am here as part of a tour as I will be assisting three girls as they have some special needs (hearing and sight). Before the three girls arrived, I went to the swimming pool for a small workout. There was also a sauna in the fitness center. While sitting in the sauna with two other women, we talked about yoga and the difference between Chinese kids and American kids. These Chinese women, who were in their late 40's said that there are two kinds of skinny: American skinny and Chinese skinny. If you are American skinny, then you are lean and muscular. Chinese skinny means that you are skin and bones. One of the women also surprised me by saying that she wanted to get more tan! I guess the white skin fad might slowly be fading in China. Of course, she told me that she had lived in America, thus she realized that white skin wasn't so stylish anymore. The other woman, slightly older, chimed in,"I don't need to be more tan, I need to get rid of the layers of fat on my body. I'm starting yoga as soon as I can so I can look like you!"
At around 5:30 pm, I met the three girls I am staying with and interpreting for. In this blog, I will change their names just to offer some privacy. Gwen (age 20), Lina (age 17), and Alicia (also 17) are all from Illinois. Lina and Alicia are sisters. All were adopted from China and are on a heritage tour without their parents. All of them need hearing aids, but Lina is just hard of hearing. Alicia also has some serious issues with her sight. Gwen and Alicia are very sweet and quiet, whereas Lina is more outspoken and opinionated. I am so different from them. I am sharing a room with Gwen. As we met each other, she brought out all of her nail polish and candy to show me. She also showed me her diary and her Bible. I showed her my Cosmopolitan magazine, my "Half the Sky" book from Mount Holyoke, and my iPad. On the cover of my magazine was Taylor Swift - there Gwen and I found some common ground (she likes Taylor's music, too!). The four of us went across the street to Carrefour (a huge superstore that has become popular in Chinese cities) for some snacks. The girls were so impressed and awestruck with almost everything we saw; from the Chinese escalators to the piles of frozen fish. We got some ramen for girls - they were very surprised that Chinese ramen came in big paper bowls. When the topic of boys came up, I admitted I had a boyfriend. When I asked the girls if they had boyfriends, they all shook their heads frantically. Lina replied,"I believe that God has the right boy in mind for me. So, I'm willing to wait."
The smog in Beijing seems worse this year. The sky seems more grey and the air more thick.
A few days ago, I ran into three Americans who worked as English teachers in Korea. Andy, Megan, and Dan were all fairly young (under 30). I helped them navigate and bargain their way through the Pearl Market. On this particular trip, I have noticed that every time I approach and try to help a foreigner struggling to communicate with a Chinese person, I am shooed away. I am initially shocked and then I walk away feeling disrespected. The American teachers told me that in the Lonely Planet China guide book, there is a passage about not "falling for" Chinese students who speak decent English because they are known to take Americans to really expensive tea houses... hmmm. The four of us ended up having lunch. During lunch, we talked about the sad fact of Americans having to go abroad just to find teaching jobs.
I am officially at the Nikko Hotel. It's fancy! I am here as part of a tour as I will be assisting three girls as they have some special needs (hearing and sight). Before the three girls arrived, I went to the swimming pool for a small workout. There was also a sauna in the fitness center. While sitting in the sauna with two other women, we talked about yoga and the difference between Chinese kids and American kids. These Chinese women, who were in their late 40's said that there are two kinds of skinny: American skinny and Chinese skinny. If you are American skinny, then you are lean and muscular. Chinese skinny means that you are skin and bones. One of the women also surprised me by saying that she wanted to get more tan! I guess the white skin fad might slowly be fading in China. Of course, she told me that she had lived in America, thus she realized that white skin wasn't so stylish anymore. The other woman, slightly older, chimed in,"I don't need to be more tan, I need to get rid of the layers of fat on my body. I'm starting yoga as soon as I can so I can look like you!"
At around 5:30 pm, I met the three girls I am staying with and interpreting for. In this blog, I will change their names just to offer some privacy. Gwen (age 20), Lina (age 17), and Alicia (also 17) are all from Illinois. Lina and Alicia are sisters. All were adopted from China and are on a heritage tour without their parents. All of them need hearing aids, but Lina is just hard of hearing. Alicia also has some serious issues with her sight. Gwen and Alicia are very sweet and quiet, whereas Lina is more outspoken and opinionated. I am so different from them. I am sharing a room with Gwen. As we met each other, she brought out all of her nail polish and candy to show me. She also showed me her diary and her Bible. I showed her my Cosmopolitan magazine, my "Half the Sky" book from Mount Holyoke, and my iPad. On the cover of my magazine was Taylor Swift - there Gwen and I found some common ground (she likes Taylor's music, too!). The four of us went across the street to Carrefour (a huge superstore that has become popular in Chinese cities) for some snacks. The girls were so impressed and awestruck with almost everything we saw; from the Chinese escalators to the piles of frozen fish. We got some ramen for girls - they were very surprised that Chinese ramen came in big paper bowls. When the topic of boys came up, I admitted I had a boyfriend. When I asked the girls if they had boyfriends, they all shook their heads frantically. Lina replied,"I believe that God has the right boy in mind for me. So, I'm willing to wait."
"But what if you spend your whole life waiting?" I asked.
"Then what's what I'll do. I put my faith into God's hands," Lina finished.
I decided then that I was experiencing first hand what one of the big conflicts in our world is in differing belief systems. The idea that you are responsible for your own life, vs. giving it all away to a higher power (or another person in some cases). It's going to be an interesting tour! After a big group dinner in which Lina expressed deep regret that she didn't speak Chinese, we headed back to our rooms. Before bed, Gwen and I knelt at the foot of our beds as she prayed.
From L to R: Lina, Alicia, Gwen and me at a Hot Pot Restaurant
Start of the POP Heritage - Summer 2011
I decided then that I was experiencing first hand what one of the big conflicts in our world is in differing belief systems. The idea that you are responsible for your own life, vs. giving it all away to a higher power (or another person in some cases). It's going to be an interesting tour! After a big group dinner in which Lina expressed deep regret that she didn't speak Chinese, we headed back to our rooms. Before bed, Gwen and I knelt at the foot of our beds as she prayed.
From L to R: Lina, Alicia, Gwen and me at a Hot Pot Restaurant
Start of the POP Heritage - Summer 2011
June 30, 2011
Today, the girls and I woke up early. They were all in awe of the buffet breakfast. It was a bit overwhelming for them. I have had the luxury to be presented with a variety of options/choices in my life, so I am more capable of narrowing down the things I am interested in. Whereas it seems like the girls seemed to have lead fairly closed off lives. They had no idea what to eat for breakfast, so we went around to everything the hotel offered and I explained what everything was/tasted like. Then we headed to the gym after breakfast for some swimming and jogging. Gwen is quite a little runner! Alicia is quiet and more reserved. She did not want to join us and waited patiently. When it was time to go swimming however, Alicia perked up. The girls follow me around constantly. When I eat, they eat. When I go to the restroom, they go as well. After splashing around in the pool for a bit, I introduced the girls to the sauna. I think they secretly regret following me into the melting room! At 11 am, we went to a cheap clothing supermarket. The girls were so ecstatic, their mouths gaped open into perfect O's. I took the girls to get their nails done for $2. Lina looked skeptical,"I've never gotten a manicure before..." Man has she been missing out (just kidding... well, sort of)! Each of the girls also purchased matching sun dresses that look adorable on them. For lunch, I took them to Chinese hot pot. That was quite something. A lot of firsts - they had never had lamb, sesame sauce, prune juice, and more. Part of me felt proud to be introducing them to what seems to me to be such simple things, but part of me felt a little sad that they were so much unknown to them. So far, this has been a much bigger and more complex job caring for them than I realized. I think they have seen, tasted, felt, and smelled more things in the last day and a half than they have most of their lives. It is a humbling experience both for them and me. They really are very nice young women, despite their lack of exposure to things. We were out and took some photos together today. In a public garden there was a celebration 90 years of communism in China. None of the girls seemed to have any idea what communism really was. On another note, did I mention how good my sign language is getting? I'll be fluent in three different languages by the time I return home!
The girls and I at a local park commemorating 90 years of communism.
Taking a moment at Tian An Men Square.
Today, the girls and I woke up early. They were all in awe of the buffet breakfast. It was a bit overwhelming for them. I have had the luxury to be presented with a variety of options/choices in my life, so I am more capable of narrowing down the things I am interested in. Whereas it seems like the girls seemed to have lead fairly closed off lives. They had no idea what to eat for breakfast, so we went around to everything the hotel offered and I explained what everything was/tasted like. Then we headed to the gym after breakfast for some swimming and jogging. Gwen is quite a little runner! Alicia is quiet and more reserved. She did not want to join us and waited patiently. When it was time to go swimming however, Alicia perked up. The girls follow me around constantly. When I eat, they eat. When I go to the restroom, they go as well. After splashing around in the pool for a bit, I introduced the girls to the sauna. I think they secretly regret following me into the melting room! At 11 am, we went to a cheap clothing supermarket. The girls were so ecstatic, their mouths gaped open into perfect O's. I took the girls to get their nails done for $2. Lina looked skeptical,"I've never gotten a manicure before..." Man has she been missing out (just kidding... well, sort of)! Each of the girls also purchased matching sun dresses that look adorable on them. For lunch, I took them to Chinese hot pot. That was quite something. A lot of firsts - they had never had lamb, sesame sauce, prune juice, and more. Part of me felt proud to be introducing them to what seems to me to be such simple things, but part of me felt a little sad that they were so much unknown to them. So far, this has been a much bigger and more complex job caring for them than I realized. I think they have seen, tasted, felt, and smelled more things in the last day and a half than they have most of their lives. It is a humbling experience both for them and me. They really are very nice young women, despite their lack of exposure to things. We were out and took some photos together today. In a public garden there was a celebration 90 years of communism in China. None of the girls seemed to have any idea what communism really was. On another note, did I mention how good my sign language is getting? I'll be fluent in three different languages by the time I return home!
The girls and I at a local park commemorating 90 years of communism.
July 3, 2011
Today was the first official day of the tour. People are still jet lagged, but many of the kids have stopped complaining and they've begun wondering. They are all so intrigued with everything; everything from the hotel marble floors to the excessive smoking on the streets. One girl exclaimed,"Look, everyone has iPhones here. I thought everyone was poor!" Welcome to the new China! At 9 am, we began a rather long slew of speeches that breezed by fairly quickly. Then came the unbearable - a two hour lecture about Chinese culture. I kept thinking to myself,"Why lecture us about China when we are here? Shouldn't we be walking around experiencing the culture first hand?" It was given by a rather haughty professor who mumbled the whole time. He was vague, off topic, confusing, and everything else a professor should not be. Most of the little kids were doodling or giggling through the lecture - I don't blame them. Sorry to be crass, but it was a nose-picking-inducing experience.
Today was the first official day of the tour. People are still jet lagged, but many of the kids have stopped complaining and they've begun wondering. They are all so intrigued with everything; everything from the hotel marble floors to the excessive smoking on the streets. One girl exclaimed,"Look, everyone has iPhones here. I thought everyone was poor!" Welcome to the new China! At 9 am, we began a rather long slew of speeches that breezed by fairly quickly. Then came the unbearable - a two hour lecture about Chinese culture. I kept thinking to myself,"Why lecture us about China when we are here? Shouldn't we be walking around experiencing the culture first hand?" It was given by a rather haughty professor who mumbled the whole time. He was vague, off topic, confusing, and everything else a professor should not be. Most of the little kids were doodling or giggling through the lecture - I don't blame them. Sorry to be crass, but it was a nose-picking-inducing experience.
Ready for the 2 hour lecture?
Afterward, we enjoyed a mediocre lunch buffet. Then we were whisked off onto huge buses to Tian An Men Square. When we arrived, some of the parents realized they couldn't bear the humidity and were sent back to the hotel. The bulk of us braved on in the not-so-bad weather. I told everyone that the heat and humidity was unusually nice for Beijing. They all nodded, probably thinking, "Yeah, right!". As I mentioned earlier, this year is the Communist Party's 90th anniversary, thus, there are huge spreads of flowers and fanciful decorations sprawled throughout the city (especially Tian An Men). To me, the saddest part of visiting this historical site (plus The Forbidden City) is that most of the kids are either too young or too immature to understand/appreciate the cultural and historical significance of these monumental places. It breaks my heart to see them complain simply about the heat or the boredom. But part of me is also so glad that they are here seeing their homeland. After being dragged through the entire Forbidden City for four hours, we were beat. The parents had had enough, the kids were wilted, and the tour guides were becoming impatient. We went to dinner where they were obviously catering to American tastes. As I reflect, today was not such a nightmare, but it was no sweet dream either. The over-priced, ice-cold bottles of water and fruity popsicles helped to temper the sweltering heat and make us forget for a moment our various discomforts.
Taking a moment at Tian An Men Square.
July 6, 2011
What is longer and more laborious than the Great Wall of China? Nothing. But my days as a constant translator for over 50 people may come close. I am exhausted. I love helping out, but truth be told, I cannot wait for the day that I can kick up my feet and not have to say a word! Yesterday, the group and I went to the city of Tianjin for the day. We took a modern train. We visited an old style Chinese street lined with its all vendors. I did like that.
A man making a very delicate candy from burnt sugar.
We also went to visit the Prince of Peace Orphanage built by Mr. Yeung, who runs the Prince of Peace Fpoundation. At the orphanage, which consists of all disabled kids (most kids have CP or Down's Syndrome), we saw kids perform, we cleaned, we painted -- and we cried. It was a very moving experience to see these kids thriving despite their disabilities. One of the Chinese tour guides exclaimed,"This orphanage is better than my kid's private kindergarten!" Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take photos. One of the most poignant moments of the orphanage tour was when Lina, one of the girls I am helping, wished to give a photo album stuffed with photos of her little brother, Mark, to one of the boys who had been his good friend while Mark still lived at the orphanage. Lina seemed so excited to be able to give this little boy the album... but as we were doing the exchange, one of the overseers of the orphanage came up to us in a not-so-subtly aggressive way and discouraged/forced us to be quiet and leave the little boy alone. She said that such sensitive material can be very damaging and destructive the children. I believes something different, but I needed to be respectful. Seeing the disappointment on Lina's face though, I felt so upset. All she wanted to do was to let the little boy know that his best buddy was okay. Lina had never been to China since being adopted and lives in the rural Midwest, so to her, this kind of an encounter at the orphanage was quite a shock.
Today, we climbed the Great Wall. I found a new buddy! Her name is Allison Ng and she is also a graduated senior who lives in Marin county (not far from me in Northern California. She's shy and athletic. We climbed to the top of the Great Wall (or at least the highest we could go in our area). All I have to say is that I am so glad I only had to climb that thing and not have to build it!
Me and my new friend, Alison who climed with me.
I also helped many families translate today for a news reporter from the Beijing News Service. My head is spinning and my spirit feels withered with fatigue. Another busy day tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, Maisie (Mr. Yeung's assistant/coordinator of this trip) sprang her foot - she might have even broken something. It is not good news for the rest of the trip! Could be a nightmare! As for me, I am continuing to make the best of this very different experience.
What is longer and more laborious than the Great Wall of China? Nothing. But my days as a constant translator for over 50 people may come close. I am exhausted. I love helping out, but truth be told, I cannot wait for the day that I can kick up my feet and not have to say a word! Yesterday, the group and I went to the city of Tianjin for the day. We took a modern train. We visited an old style Chinese street lined with its all vendors. I did like that.
A man making a very delicate candy from burnt sugar.
We also went to visit the Prince of Peace Orphanage built by Mr. Yeung, who runs the Prince of Peace Fpoundation. At the orphanage, which consists of all disabled kids (most kids have CP or Down's Syndrome), we saw kids perform, we cleaned, we painted -- and we cried. It was a very moving experience to see these kids thriving despite their disabilities. One of the Chinese tour guides exclaimed,"This orphanage is better than my kid's private kindergarten!" Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take photos. One of the most poignant moments of the orphanage tour was when Lina, one of the girls I am helping, wished to give a photo album stuffed with photos of her little brother, Mark, to one of the boys who had been his good friend while Mark still lived at the orphanage. Lina seemed so excited to be able to give this little boy the album... but as we were doing the exchange, one of the overseers of the orphanage came up to us in a not-so-subtly aggressive way and discouraged/forced us to be quiet and leave the little boy alone. She said that such sensitive material can be very damaging and destructive the children. I believes something different, but I needed to be respectful. Seeing the disappointment on Lina's face though, I felt so upset. All she wanted to do was to let the little boy know that his best buddy was okay. Lina had never been to China since being adopted and lives in the rural Midwest, so to her, this kind of an encounter at the orphanage was quite a shock.
Today, we climbed the Great Wall. I found a new buddy! Her name is Allison Ng and she is also a graduated senior who lives in Marin county (not far from me in Northern California. She's shy and athletic. We climbed to the top of the Great Wall (or at least the highest we could go in our area). All I have to say is that I am so glad I only had to climb that thing and not have to build it!
Me and my new friend, Alison who climed with me.
I also helped many families translate today for a news reporter from the Beijing News Service. My head is spinning and my spirit feels withered with fatigue. Another busy day tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, Maisie (Mr. Yeung's assistant/coordinator of this trip) sprang her foot - she might have even broken something. It is not good news for the rest of the trip! Could be a nightmare! As for me, I am continuing to make the best of this very different experience.
Me with "John", one of the Chinese tour guides. I like them all very much!
July 8, 2011
As soon as our plane landed at the small yet modest airport in Li Jiang (in Yunnan province), my heart began fluttering like a butterfly that has just emerged from its cocoon. Li Jiang is surrounded by high, majestic, and graceful green mountains. The dirt here is copper-colored due to the iron in the soil. Everywhere you look, there are crops and all sorts of greenery. This is unlike Beijing with its skyscrapers and fake green lawns. All of the Americans were bug-eyed and gasping at the beauty of this province. "Li Jiang" means beautiful river - it is named this because there is an enchanting stream of fresh water that runs through the entire city. The tour group is staying at this fancy villa-like hotel. I cannot describe the magnificence of where we are staying, but I can only say that you feel more at one with nature when looking out at such beauty. You certainly don't feel as crammed as you would in a 5-star Beijing hotel. Here, the sky is more blue, then people seem immediately more hospitable, and time is like a fictional concept. After lunch, we were all taken to a VERY touristy old village like area where vendors sold everything from tribal skirts to beef jerky and tacky jewelry. I wonder why the tour guides or whoever plans these things thinks we will enjoy these places where things are ten times more expensive and all the shopkeepers sell almost all the same merchandise as each other. Jason, one of the volunteers and Allison followed me around as I toured this strangely horrific place. Jason doesn't speak Mandarin and neither does Allison. Neither of them brought much money, so we spent our two hours taking pictures and looking at the sites. I made them try some of the local food from Li Jiang and for the most part, they liked it! It is so ironic to me that none of the people running this program recognize me as a volunteer while I am doing 70% of the translating for the families.
After dinner, Jason and Allison came with me again to a different part of the city. It was uncomfortably crowded with tourists, but I thought it was important to take them to places where they would see beggars and people struggling to feed themselves. In Beijing, you see so few of that because the government has really cracked down on that sort of thing. But not here. As we looked and wandered, we got very lost! Thanks to a lovely little woman (she was from the Bai minority) who had migrated from Da Li (another part of Yunnan) to work as a cook for the local hospital, we were able to find our way back out of the maze of shops. She was 47. She explained to me that she had come here to find work. Like the construction workers on the train in Beijing, this woman said that jobs were easy to find but good-paying jobs were scarce. After asking so many people for directions and being mislead, this little minority woman was the only one who was willing to help us.
This kind woman helped us find our way.
I told her parts of my story and she was very moved. "Lucky girl," she sighed. As we walked, we talked. And as we talked, I commented to Allison and Jason that to me, this woman was the real China. Not the huge buffets or the air-conditioned buses we had been on numerous times. They didn't have much to say about that. I wasn't reprimanding them; to me, I was being honest and open. Perhaps after this trip, they will have more to think about. I am glad I met them. I am all the more appreciative of all of the opportunities I have been given to feel comfortable here. Maybe I will start doing my own trips for families!
As soon as our plane landed at the small yet modest airport in Li Jiang (in Yunnan province), my heart began fluttering like a butterfly that has just emerged from its cocoon. Li Jiang is surrounded by high, majestic, and graceful green mountains. The dirt here is copper-colored due to the iron in the soil. Everywhere you look, there are crops and all sorts of greenery. This is unlike Beijing with its skyscrapers and fake green lawns. All of the Americans were bug-eyed and gasping at the beauty of this province. "Li Jiang" means beautiful river - it is named this because there is an enchanting stream of fresh water that runs through the entire city. The tour group is staying at this fancy villa-like hotel. I cannot describe the magnificence of where we are staying, but I can only say that you feel more at one with nature when looking out at such beauty. You certainly don't feel as crammed as you would in a 5-star Beijing hotel. Here, the sky is more blue, then people seem immediately more hospitable, and time is like a fictional concept. After lunch, we were all taken to a VERY touristy old village like area where vendors sold everything from tribal skirts to beef jerky and tacky jewelry. I wonder why the tour guides or whoever plans these things thinks we will enjoy these places where things are ten times more expensive and all the shopkeepers sell almost all the same merchandise as each other. Jason, one of the volunteers and Allison followed me around as I toured this strangely horrific place. Jason doesn't speak Mandarin and neither does Allison. Neither of them brought much money, so we spent our two hours taking pictures and looking at the sites. I made them try some of the local food from Li Jiang and for the most part, they liked it! It is so ironic to me that none of the people running this program recognize me as a volunteer while I am doing 70% of the translating for the families.
Street performer in Li Jiang. People here are ore friendly.
After dinner, Jason and Allison came with me again to a different part of the city. It was uncomfortably crowded with tourists, but I thought it was important to take them to places where they would see beggars and people struggling to feed themselves. In Beijing, you see so few of that because the government has really cracked down on that sort of thing. But not here. As we looked and wandered, we got very lost! Thanks to a lovely little woman (she was from the Bai minority) who had migrated from Da Li (another part of Yunnan) to work as a cook for the local hospital, we were able to find our way back out of the maze of shops. She was 47. She explained to me that she had come here to find work. Like the construction workers on the train in Beijing, this woman said that jobs were easy to find but good-paying jobs were scarce. After asking so many people for directions and being mislead, this little minority woman was the only one who was willing to help us.
This kind woman helped us find our way.
Jade Dragon Pool outside of Li Jiang; a little piece of heaven...
July 11, 2011
Our stay in Li Jiang was brief, but enjoyable. During our three day stay, we visited a Na Xi minority elementary school. Li Jiang is home to many Na Xi people (a minority group in China). We handed out backpacks to the little first graders as they sang to us in Na Xi language.
Our group also visited famous sites such as the Jade Dragon Pool and the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. There was no snow, but wow was the altitude high! I'm in pretty good shape... but after about five minutes of walking on top of the mountain, I was heaving. Quite scary! We took a cable car up to one of the peaks of the mountain and then walked around this meadow-like area at the top. It was breathtaking with its pine trees and wild vegetation.
We arrived in Kunming today. My city hasn't changed much - still too many people, too many cars, cool weather etc. After touring the minority village, we went our hotel to freshen up. Lately, when I ask locals what minority they think I am from, they say "Yi". I get a different answer every year... I found out that the Yi are not only a matriarchal group, but that they are Buddhist. They also heavily populate Zhao Tong - the area where I am supposedly from in Yunnan. The pieces of my past are starting to align and I am seeing myself in a more clear, definable light. At night, the tour group was shuttled to am amazing minority performance. This show was spectacular! Apparently, it has traveled worldwide and has won numerous awards.
One of the most poignant scenes in the two-hour-long spectacle, was a song accompanied by a dance called "A Woman's World". The lyrics went something like this: It is acceptable for the sun to take a break. It is acceptable for the moon to rest. But this will never be so for a woman. Who will swallow the bitterness if a woman is gone? There would be no more humans if women did not live under the heavens... This is a traditional Yi song and touched me deeply.
July 14, 2011
Today was the last day of our tour. I enjoyed the trip, but boy am I ever glad to be able to be on my own and start looking for my parents. We visited the Nine Box Cave and the Stone Forest yesterday. The cave was pretty amazing, but I was expecting to see some bats! No bats, just swarms of swallows. The air down in the cave was moist and very earthy. Some of us looked like we were going to pass out! The Stone Forrest looked and felt the same as it did four years ago (when I last visited). Packed with crowds of people, all 61 one of us tour campers made our way through the stones of all shapes and sizes, sweating and begging the tour guides to get us out of the maze of rocks. We got a far-too-thorough tour of the Yunnan Bai Yao factory today. Yunnan Bai Yao, for those of you who do not know, is one of China's most famous and prominent Chinese medicine companies. It manufactures everything from toothpaste to powder that will magically heal your cuts (yes, I can testify!). Our tour guides were very careful where they took us... Yunnan Bai Yao is the supplier for Prince of Peace products. I suppose that is why we got a VIP tour of the place... NOT! Yunnan Bai Yao is in such great demand that they can only supply 70% of their demand market (supposedly). All of these "facts" must be taken with a grain of salt. Apparently, the magical powder that heals cuts was what made Yunnan Bai Yao famous. During the Japanese invasion of China, the Japanese were not able to conquer China because the soldiers on the Chinese side used Yunnan Bai Yao powder to heal their wounds. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why China defeated the Japanese... all according to our tour guide of course. And when Zhou En Lai, the chairman at the time of the invasion, heard of this magical powder, he went to Yunnan himself and pronounced Yunnan Bai Yao as a Chinese national treasure. Had enough of the fun facts? At the end of the day, we had a nice dinner and an ice cream party at the hotel. Many people got up and spoke about their experiences on the trip. It was actually quite genuine and very moving.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of my search for my birth parents. Wish me luck. I will need lots of it.
Our stay in Li Jiang was brief, but enjoyable. During our three day stay, we visited a Na Xi minority elementary school. Li Jiang is home to many Na Xi people (a minority group in China). We handed out backpacks to the little first graders as they sang to us in Na Xi language.
Little students at the Naxi school.
Our group also visited famous sites such as the Jade Dragon Pool and the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. There was no snow, but wow was the altitude high! I'm in pretty good shape... but after about five minutes of walking on top of the mountain, I was heaving. Quite scary! We took a cable car up to one of the peaks of the mountain and then walked around this meadow-like area at the top. It was breathtaking with its pine trees and wild vegetation.
On top of a mountain in Li Jiang. One of the most beautiful places I've been in China
We arrived in Kunming today. My city hasn't changed much - still too many people, too many cars, cool weather etc. After touring the minority village, we went our hotel to freshen up. Lately, when I ask locals what minority they think I am from, they say "Yi". I get a different answer every year... I found out that the Yi are not only a matriarchal group, but that they are Buddhist. They also heavily populate Zhao Tong - the area where I am supposedly from in Yunnan. The pieces of my past are starting to align and I am seeing myself in a more clear, definable light. At night, the tour group was shuttled to am amazing minority performance. This show was spectacular! Apparently, it has traveled worldwide and has won numerous awards.
Some of the girls on the tour and I after the performance.
One of the most poignant scenes in the two-hour-long spectacle, was a song accompanied by a dance called "A Woman's World". The lyrics went something like this: It is acceptable for the sun to take a break. It is acceptable for the moon to rest. But this will never be so for a woman. Who will swallow the bitterness if a woman is gone? There would be no more humans if women did not live under the heavens... This is a traditional Yi song and touched me deeply.
July 14, 2011
Today was the last day of our tour. I enjoyed the trip, but boy am I ever glad to be able to be on my own and start looking for my parents. We visited the Nine Box Cave and the Stone Forest yesterday. The cave was pretty amazing, but I was expecting to see some bats! No bats, just swarms of swallows. The air down in the cave was moist and very earthy. Some of us looked like we were going to pass out! The Stone Forrest looked and felt the same as it did four years ago (when I last visited). Packed with crowds of people, all 61 one of us tour campers made our way through the stones of all shapes and sizes, sweating and begging the tour guides to get us out of the maze of rocks. We got a far-too-thorough tour of the Yunnan Bai Yao factory today. Yunnan Bai Yao, for those of you who do not know, is one of China's most famous and prominent Chinese medicine companies. It manufactures everything from toothpaste to powder that will magically heal your cuts (yes, I can testify!). Our tour guides were very careful where they took us... Yunnan Bai Yao is the supplier for Prince of Peace products. I suppose that is why we got a VIP tour of the place... NOT! Yunnan Bai Yao is in such great demand that they can only supply 70% of their demand market (supposedly). All of these "facts" must be taken with a grain of salt. Apparently, the magical powder that heals cuts was what made Yunnan Bai Yao famous. During the Japanese invasion of China, the Japanese were not able to conquer China because the soldiers on the Chinese side used Yunnan Bai Yao powder to heal their wounds. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why China defeated the Japanese... all according to our tour guide of course. And when Zhou En Lai, the chairman at the time of the invasion, heard of this magical powder, he went to Yunnan himself and pronounced Yunnan Bai Yao as a Chinese national treasure. Had enough of the fun facts? At the end of the day, we had a nice dinner and an ice cream party at the hotel. Many people got up and spoke about their experiences on the trip. It was actually quite genuine and very moving.
Last group photo with kids on the tour...
Despite the redundancy and pickiness on the trip, I appreciate the experience I was given and am glad I was able to meet so many amazing families.Tomorrow marks the beginning of my search for my birth parents. Wish me luck. I will need lots of it.
Peering inside a beautiful elephant bowl.
July 15, 2011
Today was my first official day of searching for clues to my past. I met Xixi in the morning. Xixi, a refined searcher who specializes in finding birth parents in China, is bright and compact. What a wonderful character she is! Inquisitive and persistent, Xixi told me of her plans to help me find my parents in these next few days. She also told me stories of how she had helped two other adoptive families find their kids' birth parents.She told me one story of a little boy who was adopted by a Dutch family. After finding the alleged birth parents, the boy became very infatuated with his new found family members. At first, the birth parents were hesitant about meeting the boy because they felt that they had lost too much face, but eventually, they agreed to do a DNA test. The test results stated the boy was indeed their biological son. After a year of close contact between the the boy and the birth family, the DNA lab called and said that they had made a mistake and that the boy was not the biological parents' child. Shocked, the adoptive parents cut off all contact from the alleged birth family. The boy is heartbroken and probably still in shock. I kept asking Xixi how my birth parents could react if they saw me... she said that usually, the birth parents are too ashamed of themselves to "fess up" and claim they are the biological parents. When she told me this, my heart skipped a beat. What if my mother was out there watching me turn every rock just to look for her and she just stayed silent because she was too ashamed? What if her wounded pride is the thing that stands in the way of her ever making contact with me? What if.... what if? Xixi finally told me to relax. "If you get on TV, just say that you are not hateful or resentful of your birth parents. Tell them that you are living a good life now and that the only reason you want to meet them is to know that they exist." Sounds very Chinese, doesn't it!?
Some policemen speaking with me and Xixi in Kunming.
We also were told that Zhao Tong, one of the poorest of poor places in China, is notorious for drowning, disposing, and abandoning girls. When one of the policemen we met along the way told us of this fact, my tears began to flow uncontrollably. A sense of relief (that I had not been drowned or killed) and an overwhelming wave of anguish washed over me. After going from police station to police station and making multiple calls, we finally arrived at a run down police building. I can say that all the policemen who helped point us along or way seemed very genuine in their eagerness to aid me, but they all confessed this: whoever wrote my police report was probably not reachable due to a variety of reasons. We didn't find the policeman who wrote my report or the police woman whom I called "Jing cha mama" (police mama). I was ok with that. I think. After leaving our contact information with one of the policemen, they reminded me this,"The greatest difficulty in your journey is that it has been over ten years since you were abandoned and found." I nodded. My eyes began to tear up again. If only I could have begun this search sooner. Why did Fate thrust another obstacle in my way? Why is Kunming so very closed? Am I never going to be able to even see the people in my past who helped pave my future? Let alone thank them? To all those parents and families reading this, please listen. Regret is the most bitter of all human emotions. Regret is loss, intertwined with dread and rock-bottom sadness. It is never too early to look for anything. Begin now. We are humans. We learn from each other. Please, learn from my mistake. Alas, time is the only thing we can not claim back. So when you ask the question,"When should I start looking for their parents?" The answer I will always beg is now. Of course, I do understand that this is a personal quest. Not everyone will feel this way and that is okay. I did not have the tools to search earlier, or the information I do now. I am headed to Zhao Tong tomorrow. Perhaps I am truly going home after these past 13 years.
One of the helpful policemen (Kunming) along my path.
Today was my first official day of searching for clues to my past. I met Xixi in the morning. Xixi, a refined searcher who specializes in finding birth parents in China, is bright and compact. What a wonderful character she is! Inquisitive and persistent, Xixi told me of her plans to help me find my parents in these next few days. She also told me stories of how she had helped two other adoptive families find their kids' birth parents.She told me one story of a little boy who was adopted by a Dutch family. After finding the alleged birth parents, the boy became very infatuated with his new found family members. At first, the birth parents were hesitant about meeting the boy because they felt that they had lost too much face, but eventually, they agreed to do a DNA test. The test results stated the boy was indeed their biological son. After a year of close contact between the the boy and the birth family, the DNA lab called and said that they had made a mistake and that the boy was not the biological parents' child. Shocked, the adoptive parents cut off all contact from the alleged birth family. The boy is heartbroken and probably still in shock. I kept asking Xixi how my birth parents could react if they saw me... she said that usually, the birth parents are too ashamed of themselves to "fess up" and claim they are the biological parents. When she told me this, my heart skipped a beat. What if my mother was out there watching me turn every rock just to look for her and she just stayed silent because she was too ashamed? What if her wounded pride is the thing that stands in the way of her ever making contact with me? What if.... what if? Xixi finally told me to relax. "If you get on TV, just say that you are not hateful or resentful of your birth parents. Tell them that you are living a good life now and that the only reason you want to meet them is to know that they exist." Sounds very Chinese, doesn't it!?
Some policemen speaking with me and Xixi in Kunming.
We also were told that Zhao Tong, one of the poorest of poor places in China, is notorious for drowning, disposing, and abandoning girls. When one of the policemen we met along the way told us of this fact, my tears began to flow uncontrollably. A sense of relief (that I had not been drowned or killed) and an overwhelming wave of anguish washed over me. After going from police station to police station and making multiple calls, we finally arrived at a run down police building. I can say that all the policemen who helped point us along or way seemed very genuine in their eagerness to aid me, but they all confessed this: whoever wrote my police report was probably not reachable due to a variety of reasons. We didn't find the policeman who wrote my report or the police woman whom I called "Jing cha mama" (police mama). I was ok with that. I think. After leaving our contact information with one of the policemen, they reminded me this,"The greatest difficulty in your journey is that it has been over ten years since you were abandoned and found." I nodded. My eyes began to tear up again. If only I could have begun this search sooner. Why did Fate thrust another obstacle in my way? Why is Kunming so very closed? Am I never going to be able to even see the people in my past who helped pave my future? Let alone thank them? To all those parents and families reading this, please listen. Regret is the most bitter of all human emotions. Regret is loss, intertwined with dread and rock-bottom sadness. It is never too early to look for anything. Begin now. We are humans. We learn from each other. Please, learn from my mistake. Alas, time is the only thing we can not claim back. So when you ask the question,"When should I start looking for their parents?" The answer I will always beg is now. Of course, I do understand that this is a personal quest. Not everyone will feel this way and that is okay. I did not have the tools to search earlier, or the information I do now. I am headed to Zhao Tong tomorrow. Perhaps I am truly going home after these past 13 years.
One of the helpful policemen (Kunming) along my path.
July 15, 2011
After a five and a half hour bus ride from Kunming, we finally arrived in Zhao Tong yesterday. On the bus to Zhao Tong, Xixi and I began handing out flyers to all who were interested in helping me find my parents. Jalen (my friend from Berkeley!) attracted everyone's attention, which then sparked a one-hour long conversation about my story. At first, everyone looked at Jalen and asked,"This is the one from Zhao Tong?" We have gotten our fair share of ridiculous questions on this trip. After arriving at the Zhao Tong bus station, we took a cab to our hotel. All the taxis are brand new here because there is a huge Yi minority holiday on the 24th of July. A peasant from Zhao Tong became a high government official in recent years and thus was able to get government funding for an elaborate celebration. The hotel is clean and modest. Everything in Zhao Tong is two times less than it is in Kunming or Beijing. The streets are paved, but other than the new yellow taxis, the vehicles on the street consist of broken down mini vans and horse-drawn carts. Most of the buildings are old and rustic. Farmers are scattered about selling all sorts of fruit. The color of peaches, lychees, small crab apples, grapes, rare, wild mushrooms, peppers, potatoes, and more fill the entire area with life.
One of the more posh areas in Zhao Tong City.
An hour after we got into our hotel, Xixi took me and Jalen to the Zhao Tong radio station. There, I was interviewed and asked thousands of questions. We recorded a twenty minute long program just about me! The director of the radio station was so impressed and surprised by my story that he wanted to do an entire program on me called "On the Road Home". When we thanked the journalists for all their help, they repled,"No need to thank us, this is something we are obligated to do. If we can help in any way, we will definitely do it." During my interview, they kept asking me questions like "what would you do if you saw your birth parents" and "what would you want your birth parents to know?" I replied,"I would want to tell them that I do not blame them. I want them to know that I understand that they must have had their hardships and that losing me was probably a very difficult thing for them. " I got a bit choked up at some point. I've told my story hundreds of times. It still amazes me that I can still bring myself to tears even after all these years.
In the evening, we enjoyed a nice and simple farmer's meal. Then, we were off to handing out hundreds of flyers. We walked for at least an hour and a half around parks. At night, it is customary for Chinese people to gather after dinner for some recreational fun. There were people whipping around yo-yos. The sound of the whipping was very obnoxious to my ears. And it was mostly men who participated in the sport... I suppose it is a good way to relieve stress and tension. Jalen and I both tried our hand at it; Jalen was much better than me. People were very responsive when we handed them the flyers we prepared. They asked a lot of questions about my story; questions such as "where are you living now?" and "lucky girl, why do you come back to such poverty?" and "do you remember anything about your home?" Some of the questions and comments were very moving, but some were just plain silly. Many of the people did not even read the flyer handed to them before spewing off numerous questions all at once. Some people couldn't read the flyers, thus, seemingly embarrassed, they refused to take one. Some of the illiterate took some flyers and had others read them aloud. Xixi kept saying how helpful it was that I was there passing out the flyers with her. "It leaves a deeper impression when they see that you are real," Xixi reminded me each time people walked away smiling and hoping to help me find my parents. Jalen was of great help as well. Some people did not believe I had been adopted to America, but when we pointed to Jalen and said, "Look, this is one of Fang Fang's classmates from America", they all smiled shyly. We posted a lot of laminated posters up on public-announcement bulletin boards. Jalen helped us place the posters higher up. He had to be careful not to put them too high because there is no one over 5'9" here. As we walked around, we passed out more flyers. We stopped at little clumps of people and as we handed out our papers, we chatted them up. It seems people are so much more receptive than they would be in big cities like Kunming. It was wonderful and very moving to see the positive head-nods when we asked people to help us look around. My heart started to feel happier than it has in a while.
A grandmother who cried rivers of tears upon hearing my story.
Have I mentioned the specialties of Zhao Tong? Zhao Tong is known for its poverty-stricken people. It is also home to the Yi and Miao ethnic minorities, and many, many Muslims (these are the Hui people for those interested). Along with the variety of locally grown produce, people sell a lot of roasted potatoes and corn. People here eat potatoes for all three meals. Today for example, we had potato pancakes for breakfast, roasted potato with hot peppers as a snack, chicken stew with potatoes, and potato dumplings for dinner! I love it. My mum in American will confirm for you that I have ALWAYS loved roasted potatoes and corn. Now it all makes sense! Xixi and Jalen are getting a bit weary of the yellow starch. Zhao Tong is also well known for apples (only in the fall though). Most of the farming and vending stalls are run by women. Most of the women are carrying children in cloth sacks around their backs. Everyone has dark skin - so dark that it has a copper/reddish tint to it. The babies here seem to be mostly boys. The children have noses just like me! We have seen so many children who looked like me as a child.
Staples of my first home... roasted potatoes and corn!
Today, we began narrowing down our search. I told Xixi that I did not remember any snow, which is odd considering the fact that Zhao Tong snows in the winter time. Having asked around, we finally figured out that in certain parts of Zhao Tong, there is very little snow. Another mystery we needed to solve was the sugar cane. I remembered eating sugar cane as a young child. There are only three areas of Zhao Tong that grow sugar cane. One of those places is very warm. The third mystery we needed to solve was that I specifically remember my Chinese father cutting firewood for a living. We were told that this meant we lived near a mountain. I remember that we did not live directly on a mountain. With a few of these clues and having asked around, we hired a taxi driver who had heard the first part of my radio program just last night, and drove about an hour north to a small village district. On the road, we were surrounded by majestic mountains and spectacular waterfalls that took our breath away!
A narrow road in one of the poor, mountainous areas we visited.
We passed by rows and rows of corn. After arriving through a narrow pathway in our bright yellow taxi, we began putting up posters and handing out flyers. By now, I have my three sentence speech all prepared. I simply hand a flyer out, simultaneously saying my three sentences as fast I can so that I can keep everyone's interest. The small village town is where all the farmers walk to from their moutain-side homes to sell/buy produce for the day. The city has some tall buildings, but most of them are falling apart quickly. The most success we had at this village town was at the bus station. As we rallied a huge crowd of travellers, we handed out flyers and chatted up everyone surrounding us. People were grabbing flyers from us and scanning the sheets of paper as fast as they could. Before finishing, they would perk up and ask a silly question such as "do you remember where you lived?" Xixi would look at them and laugh lightly,"Of course not! If she did, we wouldn't be wandering around like this!" She was very kind and patient with their questioning. There were even more illiterate people than I had expected. As we were answering quetions and passing out more flyers, a man no taller than me popped his head into the crowd and shouted to us that he knew someone... he told us that behind the mountain pass, there was a family who had a daughter stolen from them about 13 or 14 years ago. The surname of the family was "fu". My Chinese surname is "wu". Zhao Tong dialect mixes up "f" and "w" quite often. My heart skipped a beat. As we listened, he explained what he knew to us. He told us of how the dad was an alcoholic (check!), the father cut firewood (check!), and that the daughter had been stolen from them 13 or 14 years ago (timing, check!). The only oddity of his story was that the family also had a son. I do not remember ever seeing or having a brother around.
A man who told us the story of his friend's "stolen" daughter.
After taking down our contact information (he didn't have anything to give us in terms of contact information), we bought some roasted potatoes and left the crowded village. After getting back to the hotel, Xixi got a call. A man who had heard from another friend about us said that he knew of a couple. The couple was from an area of Zhao Tong which had sugar cane, warm climate, and trees for firewood. The couple had lost their daughter who would now be between 17-19. The daugher's name is "Wu Xiao Fen". My name is "Wu Xiao Fang". Xixi couldn't believe it. The name and age of the couple's daughter was so similar to mine. The couple, poverty-stricken, moved to Kunming to find work. The man who contacted Xixi said that if we sent him a picture of me as a child, he would take it to the couple and ask them if I was their daughter. I have been a nervous wreck! People kept asking me before I began my search, "What if you don't find your birth parents?" I would reply,"What if? Well, I would be devastated, sure, but what matters is that I tried. When I am 80, I don't want to look back regretting the fact that I never even tried to look for them. I don't want to live with that regret."
P.S. Jalen and Xixi have seen me roll my eyes more than a hundred times. I often do this when people call me "lucky girl". Some say it accusingly. Some say it with a shred of envy. Perhaps they don't know what it feels like to be in the dark about your early past.
July 19, 2011
About two days ago, Xixi called Yunnan TV, the Fox news of Yunnan province, to see if they would put me on TV. Xixi thought that this would be the most effective and efficient way to reach my birth parents. "What if my parents don't have a TV?" I asked. "Of course they'll have a TV! China has changed, everyone has a TV now. And even if they don't, people who know them will see you on TV and inform them of your news." I sighed. Just a few days ago, the guy who said that he might know my parents ended communication with us with a simple message: the girl is not their daughter. There was nothing more said. The message was disturbing on many levels. This man, when he had first contacted us, was very excited and seemed overly enthusiastic. Then his message came. Xixi said that we will never know if those parents (whom the man knows) were my birth parents or not. "Perhaps they were your parents. Perhaps they were too ashamed to speak up and recognize you as their daughter. We may never know," Xixi sighed.
Yunnan TV crew. They were very kind and easy to work with.
I was interviewed in Green Lake Park in Kunming. The TV journalist and camera man wanted a more natural setting. The TV station had responded immediately to Xixi's call because they recognized my story as unique. When I met them, they told me, "Your story will be a good one for the Chinese people to hear and understand. No one knows what happens to adoptees when they leave. No one asks, but people want to know," said the curious journalist. We interviewed for about half an hour and then they filmed me and Jalen walking around Green Lake. During my interview, they asked me to recollect my abandonment and my past life with my birth parents. At one point, I looked right at the camera (which you're not supposed to do), and said,"I don't blame you. I just want you back. I want you to tell me stories about me as a baby. I want to tell you I am living a good life. I'm okay, Mama." I had to say this. I figured, if they don't want to see me in person, I want them to know at the very least that I still think about them and that I am okay. Xixi thought this was a wise move on my part because this gentleness allows for a smoother reconciliation (if there is ever to be one).
The journalist said,"Your story is very, very moving. But tell me this - why are you so good at interviewing?! Most people are as nervous as chickens!" I then told her about being filmed for a documentary. My 30 minute clip will air several times. Unfortunately, I will be in Zhao Tong for most of those times, so I will probably not be able to see it. I am headed back to Zhao Tong for the big Fire Lantern (or Torch) Festival to try and publicize my message to a larger crowd. Maybe I will see my mother at the festival. This holiday is said to bring happiness and good fortune to the people. I hope I may find my small slice of joy while I am there.
After a five and a half hour bus ride from Kunming, we finally arrived in Zhao Tong yesterday. On the bus to Zhao Tong, Xixi and I began handing out flyers to all who were interested in helping me find my parents. Jalen (my friend from Berkeley!) attracted everyone's attention, which then sparked a one-hour long conversation about my story. At first, everyone looked at Jalen and asked,"This is the one from Zhao Tong?" We have gotten our fair share of ridiculous questions on this trip. After arriving at the Zhao Tong bus station, we took a cab to our hotel. All the taxis are brand new here because there is a huge Yi minority holiday on the 24th of July. A peasant from Zhao Tong became a high government official in recent years and thus was able to get government funding for an elaborate celebration. The hotel is clean and modest. Everything in Zhao Tong is two times less than it is in Kunming or Beijing. The streets are paved, but other than the new yellow taxis, the vehicles on the street consist of broken down mini vans and horse-drawn carts. Most of the buildings are old and rustic. Farmers are scattered about selling all sorts of fruit. The color of peaches, lychees, small crab apples, grapes, rare, wild mushrooms, peppers, potatoes, and more fill the entire area with life.
In the evening, we enjoyed a nice and simple farmer's meal. Then, we were off to handing out hundreds of flyers. We walked for at least an hour and a half around parks. At night, it is customary for Chinese people to gather after dinner for some recreational fun. There were people whipping around yo-yos. The sound of the whipping was very obnoxious to my ears. And it was mostly men who participated in the sport... I suppose it is a good way to relieve stress and tension. Jalen and I both tried our hand at it; Jalen was much better than me. People were very responsive when we handed them the flyers we prepared. They asked a lot of questions about my story; questions such as "where are you living now?" and "lucky girl, why do you come back to such poverty?" and "do you remember anything about your home?" Some of the questions and comments were very moving, but some were just plain silly. Many of the people did not even read the flyer handed to them before spewing off numerous questions all at once. Some people couldn't read the flyers, thus, seemingly embarrassed, they refused to take one. Some of the illiterate took some flyers and had others read them aloud. Xixi kept saying how helpful it was that I was there passing out the flyers with her. "It leaves a deeper impression when they see that you are real," Xixi reminded me each time people walked away smiling and hoping to help me find my parents. Jalen was of great help as well. Some people did not believe I had been adopted to America, but when we pointed to Jalen and said, "Look, this is one of Fang Fang's classmates from America", they all smiled shyly. We posted a lot of laminated posters up on public-announcement bulletin boards. Jalen helped us place the posters higher up. He had to be careful not to put them too high because there is no one over 5'9" here. As we walked around, we passed out more flyers. We stopped at little clumps of people and as we handed out our papers, we chatted them up. It seems people are so much more receptive than they would be in big cities like Kunming. It was wonderful and very moving to see the positive head-nods when we asked people to help us look around. My heart started to feel happier than it has in a while.
A grandmother who cried rivers of tears upon hearing my story.
A narrow road in one of the poor, mountainous areas we visited.
A man who told us the story of his friend's "stolen" daughter.
Me telling my story on the radio in Zhao Tong.
We are headed back to Kunming in the morning. I have been moved, jolted, awakened, surprised, saddened, and made hopeful again by visiting this place. I hope my parents hear my message. I hope they hear it through the radio, I hope they see it on TV, and I hope they feel it through their hearts that I am here and that I am looking for them with open arms.P.S. Jalen and Xixi have seen me roll my eyes more than a hundred times. I often do this when people call me "lucky girl". Some say it accusingly. Some say it with a shred of envy. Perhaps they don't know what it feels like to be in the dark about your early past.
July 19, 2011
About two days ago, Xixi called Yunnan TV, the Fox news of Yunnan province, to see if they would put me on TV. Xixi thought that this would be the most effective and efficient way to reach my birth parents. "What if my parents don't have a TV?" I asked. "Of course they'll have a TV! China has changed, everyone has a TV now. And even if they don't, people who know them will see you on TV and inform them of your news." I sighed. Just a few days ago, the guy who said that he might know my parents ended communication with us with a simple message: the girl is not their daughter. There was nothing more said. The message was disturbing on many levels. This man, when he had first contacted us, was very excited and seemed overly enthusiastic. Then his message came. Xixi said that we will never know if those parents (whom the man knows) were my birth parents or not. "Perhaps they were your parents. Perhaps they were too ashamed to speak up and recognize you as their daughter. We may never know," Xixi sighed.
Yunnan TV crew. They were very kind and easy to work with.
I was interviewed in Green Lake Park in Kunming. The TV journalist and camera man wanted a more natural setting. The TV station had responded immediately to Xixi's call because they recognized my story as unique. When I met them, they told me, "Your story will be a good one for the Chinese people to hear and understand. No one knows what happens to adoptees when they leave. No one asks, but people want to know," said the curious journalist. We interviewed for about half an hour and then they filmed me and Jalen walking around Green Lake. During my interview, they asked me to recollect my abandonment and my past life with my birth parents. At one point, I looked right at the camera (which you're not supposed to do), and said,"I don't blame you. I just want you back. I want you to tell me stories about me as a baby. I want to tell you I am living a good life. I'm okay, Mama." I had to say this. I figured, if they don't want to see me in person, I want them to know at the very least that I still think about them and that I am okay. Xixi thought this was a wise move on my part because this gentleness allows for a smoother reconciliation (if there is ever to be one).
Showing the journalist a book of photos of me over the last 13 years that my mom made for me to carry.
The journalist said,"Your story is very, very moving. But tell me this - why are you so good at interviewing?! Most people are as nervous as chickens!" I then told her about being filmed for a documentary. My 30 minute clip will air several times. Unfortunately, I will be in Zhao Tong for most of those times, so I will probably not be able to see it. I am headed back to Zhao Tong for the big Fire Lantern (or Torch) Festival to try and publicize my message to a larger crowd. Maybe I will see my mother at the festival. This holiday is said to bring happiness and good fortune to the people. I hope I may find my small slice of joy while I am there.
A photo of me talking to someone in Zhao Tong as I tell my story and pass out flyers. In the left hand corner, is one of the little pictures my mom made for me to carry to Zhao Tong with me. It is the earliest photo I have (1998). My mom put a message on the back of each picture in Chinese. My little sister and she glued the message onto hundreds of photos!
July 24, 2011
It feel like there is nothing in Qiao Jia. The road to Qiao Jia is muddy and bumpy. Oh, the scenery is beautiful alright. Could I be from here? The red soil highlights the green vegetation. There are banana trees, corn fields, and Thai-style roofs that are slanted steeply so the rain does not stand a chance of resting on the slopes. The journey was mesmerizing, but that is about it. Waiting at a bus stop that is no more than a pretty picture and arriving at the empty bus station.
Market Day in Qiao Jia town.
The next morning, after passing out the last of our flyers at the morning market, we took a cab (and got ripped off) to the Golden Sand Beach. The "beach" is actually a very wide river that runs rapidly further than the eye can see. It acts as a boundary line between Sichuan and Yunnan province. At one point, the cab driver took us across the bridge to Sichuan. There was not much to see. Just a few run down buildings. A few stray dogs. Barely any humans in sight. The driver said that this little Sichuan town was established when people began building the huge bridge that links Yunnan and Sichuan.
It feel like there is nothing in Qiao Jia. The road to Qiao Jia is muddy and bumpy. Oh, the scenery is beautiful alright. Could I be from here? The red soil highlights the green vegetation. There are banana trees, corn fields, and Thai-style roofs that are slanted steeply so the rain does not stand a chance of resting on the slopes. The journey was mesmerizing, but that is about it. Waiting at a bus stop that is no more than a pretty picture and arriving at the empty bus station.
The lonely but beautiful bus stop to Qiao Jia in northern Zhao Tong county.
We took a red motor rickshaw to our hotel. The hotel was a four star hotel, but it was priced like a two or three star hotel - this is probably because no one goes to Qiao Jia! Originally, I decided to go to Qiao Jia (which is 5-6 hours from Zhao Tong city) because I had heard that Qiao Jia had sugar cane and was very warm. I remember chewing on sugar cane and the sweltering sun as a child. I saw no sugar cane in Qiao Jia. In fact, the air was dry and so hot we felt as if we were suffocating.
A little motorized moped in Qiao Jia town.
The few stores in the small village town held little but farming/construction tools and solar panels. To our surprise, many of the flat roofs held solar panels. I learned that this is because China is the biggest manufacturer of solar panels, they are surpassing the US and every other country in their solar panel usage! We had dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in Qiao Jia. I found a dead caterpillar and then a fly in my soup. I didn't want to harass the waiters and waitresses for this little "problem." As we were leaving the restaurant, we saw our waitress shoving our uneaten rice back into the bin that it had been shoveled out of.
A small restaurant in Qiao Jia town.
On a positive note, people responded well to my story as I gave out flyers, but many asked this,"What exactly is America? Where is it and how could you ever get there if you are from here??" Many of the older women I tried giving flyers to rejected my offer because they were illiterate. Most of the children I see are boys. After walking around a bit and passing out over one hundred flyers, we retired back to our hotel. Before going to bed, I looked out onto the empty street. The roads were newly paved, but they were as bare as my expression as my expression when I learned that Qiao Jia is notorious for their "newborn-girl-bucket-drowning" tradition. As I fell asleep, I thanked whoever was watching over me that I am alive today and that I did not grow up in this desolate land. I feel my way as I go, trying to get a sense of whether I once belonged here. The people here, though poor, are my connection and my hope. Whether they will end up being seeds to roots remains to be seen.
Market Day in Qiao Jia town.
Bridge from Qiao Jia to Sichuan.
We walked around the beach for an hour. We found some Fool's Gold. Other than that, the "beach" part of this scenic place was as barren as the village it belonged to. Finally, we hopped onto another six hour bus ride back to Zhao Tong. On the way back, I couldn't help but replay all those words people kept throwing at me in Qiao Jia - "Why are you looking for your parents? Isn't that silly? They probably didn't want you and you shouldn't want them. Go live your life in America. You have good rich parents that care for you now. This search is worthless." They could be right but my journey to prove I existed is my own. People can suggest any and all they want but the journey ahead will be paved as I go, and no-one else.
Pretty but desoloate Golden Sand Beach in Qiao Jia.
July 26, 2011
Zhao Tong's Fire Torch Festival (火把节) was pretty crazy. First off, I thought the holiday was called the Lantern Festival, but it turns outs that the literal translation is the "Bunch of Fire" holiday. There certainly were many odd and wild bunches of fiery flames on the street that night. During the day, Zhao Tong was stuffed with way too many people. In order to save money, most people just slept on the streets the night before! Then, during the hot afternoon, people sought shade under the shrubs and trees.
Among the things we witnessed that day was a little boy crying his head off because he had been separated and lost from his parents. It was devastating to see. As the police woman lead the little boy around, a huge crowd of on-lookers watched, pointed and gossiped. I felt heartbroken for the boy. I knew how he must have felt. Scared. Confused. Disoriented. Overwhelmed. Over-heated. Over-the-top crazy with worry that his parents would never come back for him. These days we are hearing of more stories of children who are "lost." I never heard whether he was reunited with his parents. We also saw a fight break out between four or five people. An actual physical, you-pull-my-hair-I-punch-you-in-the-stomach kind of fight. It was scary. Then someone pulled out a knife. Things calmed down after that. People were probably over-heated and too excited for the festival to think clearly and act politely. Later we found out that the group of people were fighting over a parking space. A parking space for their little push-carts filled with food and fruit. In the early evening, we went to learn how to make potato dumplings from one of the restaurant owners I have befriended. We have eaten at this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant every night since arriving back in Zhao Tong. The owners know me well now and every night when I walk in, the mother takes my hand and asks me if I have had any news from my parents yet. Their restaurant is the only eatery that I have found that has these delicious dumplings made from potato. I talked the mother (the prep chef) into teaching us how to make these little bundles of caloric-bomb treats. It was hard work, but we finally got the hang of it. I was applauded for my nice dumpling shaping skills. I guess I do have some cooking skills after all!
After the dumpling-making party, we had to leave the restaurant because customers were coming in to dine in droves. We returned later that evening with a celebratory cake and some huge bundles firewood branches for the festival. After enjoying a dinner with the family who owned the restaurant we went out with the father and their seven year old son and fourteen year old daughter to join in the festivities. The mother had to stay behind to care for the remaining customers. Here are some pictures from that night.
A group of children celebrating. The kids are overwhelmingly
all boys and I look like many of them. We could easily be related.
A game of the popular street yo-yo. Mostly men
play it but I see women joining in, too.
My restaurant family. They have been very kind to me.
Me with the restaurant owner's 14 year old daughter, Wan Juan.
As we walked, we inhaled about a life time worth of smoke. Everyone on the streets was burning their torches (illegally of course but no-one stopped them). We bought a giant paper lantern in which we lit an oil-slicked piece of lard within. After letting hot air build up inside the paper bulb, we let it go into the night sky. It slowly waddled its way into the darkness, fading into a graceful dance, then growing more dim until it looked like a fiery planet. I started singing.
Zhao Tong's Fire Torch Festival (火把节) was pretty crazy. First off, I thought the holiday was called the Lantern Festival, but it turns outs that the literal translation is the "Bunch of Fire" holiday. There certainly were many odd and wild bunches of fiery flames on the street that night. During the day, Zhao Tong was stuffed with way too many people. In order to save money, most people just slept on the streets the night before! Then, during the hot afternoon, people sought shade under the shrubs and trees.
A little daytime market set up to sell fire torches for the evening celebration.
Among the things we witnessed that day was a little boy crying his head off because he had been separated and lost from his parents. It was devastating to see. As the police woman lead the little boy around, a huge crowd of on-lookers watched, pointed and gossiped. I felt heartbroken for the boy. I knew how he must have felt. Scared. Confused. Disoriented. Overwhelmed. Over-heated. Over-the-top crazy with worry that his parents would never come back for him. These days we are hearing of more stories of children who are "lost." I never heard whether he was reunited with his parents. We also saw a fight break out between four or five people. An actual physical, you-pull-my-hair-I-punch-you-in-the-stomach kind of fight. It was scary. Then someone pulled out a knife. Things calmed down after that. People were probably over-heated and too excited for the festival to think clearly and act politely. Later we found out that the group of people were fighting over a parking space. A parking space for their little push-carts filled with food and fruit. In the early evening, we went to learn how to make potato dumplings from one of the restaurant owners I have befriended. We have eaten at this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant every night since arriving back in Zhao Tong. The owners know me well now and every night when I walk in, the mother takes my hand and asks me if I have had any news from my parents yet. Their restaurant is the only eatery that I have found that has these delicious dumplings made from potato. I talked the mother (the prep chef) into teaching us how to make these little bundles of caloric-bomb treats. It was hard work, but we finally got the hang of it. I was applauded for my nice dumpling shaping skills. I guess I do have some cooking skills after all!
Making potato dumplings in our favorite Zhao Tong restaurant!
After the dumpling-making party, we had to leave the restaurant because customers were coming in to dine in droves. We returned later that evening with a celebratory cake and some huge bundles firewood branches for the festival. After enjoying a dinner with the family who owned the restaurant we went out with the father and their seven year old son and fourteen year old daughter to join in the festivities. The mother had to stay behind to care for the remaining customers. Here are some pictures from that night.
A group of children celebrating. The kids are overwhelmingly
all boys and I look like many of them. We could easily be related.
A game of the popular street yo-yo. Mostly men
play it but I see women joining in, too.
My restaurant family. They have been very kind to me.
Me with the restaurant owner's 14 year old daughter, Wan Juan.
"This little light of mine, I'm gonna let shine,
This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine,
This little light of mine, I'm gonna let shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine..."
People stared at me. I feel like I know many people here in Zhao Tong now. People kept coming up to me during the festival and asking if I had found my parents or not. When I delivered my disappointing news, all I got in return were warm wishes and uplifting suggestions from the locals. They seem to genuinely care and ask for nothing in return. Perhaps the web I have woven in this place will help me find my parents one day. Some day. Maybe not this day. But someday. As I sang my song, I sent this hope into the night sky with my fire lantern.
This little light of mine...
