29-Year-Old Sack of Bones

Its always interesting hear what self imposed title James gives to himself on his birthday.  On this, the morning of his 29th birthday, he referred to himself as a 29-Year-Old Sack of Bones.  

Very nice, James.  Very nice.

Happy Birthday!

Acrobats!

Yesterday, because there were some visitors in town, we all packed up and went to see the China National Acrobatic Troupe.  When I told one of my teachers that today, she commented that going to see them was one of the top three things to do on Beijing tours: see the Great Wall of China, eat Peking Duck, and see the China National Acrobatic Troupe.  If I was making a top touristy list, I probably would have probably would have included Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City and the Emperor's Summer Palace.  None the less, it would explain why there were so many foreign faces in the crowd.

Touristy or not, it was certainly interesting.  Considering that we have not done many touristy things in the last year, it was probably long since overdue.  We weren't actually allowed to take pictures, but thanks to the tourist nature of this event, all I had to do was find a couple tourist websites to show you what we saw.  

We watched a man juggle ten balls while tap dancing up and down stairs.  He somehow managed to create what looked like a net in front of him out of whizzing balls all the while tap dancing (picture, but not as crazy as it was).  We watched a woman juggle four umbrellas with her toes in the air and two more in her hands (picture).  We saw very energetic martial arts like young men scrambling up poles like moneys and leaping through all kinds of hoops.  We saw ten girls all riding the same bike (of course while flipping over each other and doing all sorts of strange things).  There was also the glass contortionists (picture), the guy riding a bike on his head on the slack wire, the girl who did a balancing act of holding herself up with one arm for about five minutes on a 1.5m wobbly stand (again doing crazy moves all the while) and much much more.  

The Beijing bus system really likes playing videos of these types of acts.  When riding the bus it is just annoying to watch people do things like that with apparent ease and a large fake smile plastered on their face.  But live and very close to the stage, it really was something to behold.  We could see the shakiness of overly exerted limbs, the slight (but well hidden) look of strained faces, the sway for balance that was quickly caught and corrected.  I appreciated all those little glimpses of humanity.  It made the show more interesting and physically challenging than watching a flawless and seemingly effortless performance.

The boys were quite excited.  However, half way through the show, it occurred to me what sort of influence watching 10 people flip around on one moving bicycle might have a on a four year old boy (who is, incidentally, also learning to ride his bike).  Ari was excitedly grabbing my arm and saying "Look Mommy! They are all on the same bike!".  It occurred to me that it might be appropriate to initiate a little discussion about how long it had taken those performers to learn how to do those things.  Searching for a frame of reference that he would understand, I told him that it had taken them even longer to learn to do that then it would take him to grow up.  He loves talking about how long it will take him to grow up.  

However, instead of taking the take home message that I intended, he drew this conclusion... "If it took them that long, then you must be able to do that Mommy!"  No, no, no son, mommy can't do that.  "Oh well then Papa must be able to do that!"  At this everyone shared a chuckle, saying again, "No Ari, even Papa can't do that."  At this he was really bewildered that even someone as "old" as Papa couldn't do it.  After that he came to the solid conclusion that any one over the age of 50 MUST be able to do what those acrobats did. Using that logic, the best acrobats are those who are 80 years old or more!

On a final note: Yesterday, Ari came to me and said, "Mommy, my tongue is really tired.  I've been talking ever since you picked me up from school!"  To which Mother responded wisely, "Rest my boy, rest!"

Sandstorm in the News

This is a follow up to yesterday's orange post.  Here is a link to a BBC article about the storm.  There is a pretty good picture of Tiananmen Square shrouded in dust.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8577806.stm

Living on Perelandra

Normally in the morning our bedroom is filled with streaming morning light (unless its smoggy, aka 25% of the time).  Today, I wondered why waking up felt so strange.  I wondered if I was still in a dream...an orange tinted dream.  But no, it was our bedroom. All of the light coming into our house had (and still has) a deep orange/pink hue.  It was very creepy to move from dreamland into orange land.  We knew that spring is the season of dust storms here, but that still doesn't mean that you expect to see one when you wake up in the morning.  Last spring, everyone was amazed that we didn't have any.

I don't think this would even be considered a dust storm, but there is certainly a lot of dust in the air and the wind is blowing.  The tint reminds me of when the skies turn downright green before a bad hail storm in Manitoba.   It has also made me think of C.S. Lewis' description of Venus (Perelandra) in Voyage to Venus.  He has a lengthy discussion on what it is like to live in an orange/pink world.  It doesn't help that all of the buildings around us are a pinkish color as well, which reflects the pink/orange light into our apartment and makes it even more pink/orange. 

The forecast is calling for rain today.  It would be interesting to watch it all get washed away.

Shameless, Downright Shameless

Yesterday I pulled my most overt stunt of pretending not to understand what was being said to me.  After dropping Ari off at school, I was in a hurry to get home but the bus was taking forever to come.  When it finally did come, there was a solid wall of people at the front door and no way to get on the bus.  Story to be continued...

This is how the bus system works.  You can buy a ticket with cash if you want to, but most people have a bus card with money on it.  When you get on the bus, you swipe your card and it instantly takes the money off.  On many buses, there is also a machine to swipe your card at the back door.  If there is, then you can also swipe your card when you get off the bus.  If you do this, you get a kind of a "discount".  Normally people get on at the front door, swipe their card at the front door, and then get off at the back.  If there is a machine at the back you can swipe your card on the way out and get the "discount".  If there is no machine at the back, there is no "discount". (If you are wondering why I am putting the word discount in quotes, it is because that is just the easiest way to describe it).

Sometimes people will get on the bus at the back door and swipe their card on the "going out" machine.  This was my plan when the bus came and there was no room at the front.  So I ran to the back and got on, ready to swipe my card... but there was no "going out" machine on this bus.  I made the split second, less honest, decision to stay on the bus anyway (what a shameful MCCer!).  I figured that with such a packed bus they wouldn't notice the loss of my $0.06, and besides "it's not my fault that there is room at the back and not at the front!"

Well, as sly as I was, there is a camera on the back door and the driver saw me pulling my little stunt.  Over the loudspeaker system, he told me that I would have to get off the bus and refused to close the door or drive the bus until I did so.  Maybe I have absorbed the Chinese concept of "saving face", or maybe I really just didn't want to get off the bus and wait for another one.  All I know was that in that moment, all I could think was how embarrassing it would be to get kicked off the bus.  So I blandly pretended to be completely unaware of what was being said.  I pretended to be confused that the door was not closing, then stared blandly into space and stood my ground, well aware that everyone on the bus was staring at me (some of them chuckling into their sleeves).  After a very long and very awkward moment, the door closed and the bus started to drive.  

Only then did I realized what an embarrassing position I had put myself in, and that I had probably just reinforced the other passenger's beliefs that foreigners are completely inept.  I felt the type of stinging guilt that a seven-year-old might feel at stealing a 5 cent candy.  And to make matters worse, I hadn't even done it secretly, but bold faced in the witness of 50 or more people!  I feel a wave of embarrassment just thinking about it!  I got off the bus one stop early and made myself walk the remaining distance.

If I were my own parent in this situation, I would probably admonish myself with this ageless piece of wisdom...  "Oh little Jessica, this experience was its own reward.  I think you have learned your lesson!"