Thailand "Vacation"

It sure was an interesting trip. Joey and Hailey got quite an eyeful; I've decided not to enlighten everyone with all of the cultural differences, but some of them are sure worth a look Ü As you can see, this woman's backpack and hat have been around for hundreds of years. This is the great part of the culture that lives with all the technology, traffic, and poverty.

The streets of Bangkok come alive at night; especially in the expat/touristy areas. When we stepped outside of our hotel, which had a "Manchester United" restaurant/sports bar, you could head across the street to a big Aussie restaurant, or sit down at a chair and table on the sidewalk and eat the street vendors' food. There were ATM's, two 7-11's, live music at local restaurants, a backpacker hostel with more ambience than I can ever remember seeing when I was on the circuit, lady boys, and alleys with every kind of food you can think of, and of course massage parlors every 10 meters. The main streets were virtually impossible to see, except at the corners, as the street vendors turn the sidewalks into tunnels. On both sides, goods are plastered everywhere. You could buy anything from the brass knuckles Joey bought to tasers to Gucci handbags. As you can see (there's another shot at the bottom of the page) one guy turned his van into a pop out bar! Anything you want to drink for about $2. He lit up the street, disco ball included. The ladies of the night loved being a part of his glitz and glitter.

Like China, motorcycles, mopeds, and bikes can use the sidewalks. Bangkok Post delivers to your doorstep!

On one of our touristy days, we went to the King's Palace, which was adjacent to the Emerald Buddha Temple. The temple and all the buildings around it are amazingly elaborate in architectural design and intricate tiling. It was about 95 degrees that day, so we could only hang out in the huge compound for an hour or so..

This is a shot of the front page of the newspaper. There were devastating rains in southern Thailand just before we arrived. The government brought out the soldiers to help clear the roads from massive slides etc. It was just mind boggling to realize that it was all being done with brooms made of heavy, think plant stalks. China's streets are cleaned all day with the same gear. As a matter of fact grass clippings are swept up with these types of brooms. They look like they'd be completely ineffective, but work just as well as any broom made in America!

Sorry some of these pictures aren't ordered better. I'm usually just picking and choosing from a long list. Anyway, one of our adventures took us to this snake show. People warned us that the animal venues wouldn't be on any animal lovers list of places to see, due to how they are treated. The snake master had already captured two vipers, which he's holding in each hand, and now he was ready to catch one with his mouth-he was successful. Later huge-10 foot, fast moving snakes with rows of razor sharp teeth trying to eat their handlers for lunch. After they were caught, they showed the audience the teeth and drained the venom into a glass. It was fascinating. Apparently the handlers train with snakes from a very young age.

When we were at the river, Anne spotted some fun shoes. They were unique and colorful and cheap, so she bargained, but to no avail. Later, of course, we saw the very same ones in many other shops on the street, for less. It's amazing how the exact goods in little stores and on vendors' tables, hours drive away from each other, just keep showing up.

We aren't sure how or where it happened. It could have been food, water from the Floating Market splashing him in the face, or just forgetting to use a straw when drinking a Coke from some vendor. Joey has a fever and was suffering from G.I. problems for a day, didn't look well, couldn't eat or drink etc. Fortunately, we were 5 min. from a fabulous medical center that we had all gotten physicals at just two days prior. We had his hospital card, check him in, and had him hooked up to an I.V. in 15 minutes, got some anti-biotics, and the next day he was feeling great! Thankfully, our insurance covered everything. The hospital was terrific, but the juxtaposition of sensibilities, having Ronald McDonald INSIDE the healthy living center INSIDE the hospital, was quite a jolt to the brain!







They don't mess around with their warnings if you want to buy cigars. Every type of cigar basically says that if you buy this, you are risking gross deformity, cancer, and/or death. The photos are gruesome!



Ok, this is where cost, cheap labor, poverty, and an over abundance of manpower ends up with men and women heating up asphalt (or not on 95 degree days) and carefully pounding out a pattern with a hammer and a bent piece of rebar. It was interesting looking at something that seemed so third world in the middle of a fairly well developed part of the city.

While walking today, Anne and I saw the police drive up toward a DVD seller on the street. The sellers are all over the place. We don't know why police target some areas on certain days, and then you may not see the big white truck that collects illicit material for weeks, unless they just decide on a big cash penalty on the spot. The poor 25 year old guy saw them approach his DVD filled 3 wheeler flat bed. He panicked and tried to instantly push his cart away from the police that were chasing him. Of course, he only got 20 yards. We didn't stick around to wait for the outcome: arrest, confiscation, cash penalty. It can take a short period or up to an hour. The seller's face looked like his world was ending. There was fear, grief, sadness, and pannick on his face, all at the same time. We continued down the street into what is the much more busy part of town, next to the huge shopping mall known as Carrefour. Those stores are all over SE Asia. Anyway, after grabbing a Starbucks, we noticed the cell phones going off and the sellers yapping at each other. All eyes were on the street that we came from. 99 days out of 100, the two blocks between us and Carrefour are teeming with vendors and sellers: Corn, sweet potatoes, hats, hair products, jewelry, beggars, perfumes, baskets, reproduced books and CD's. Well, by the time we started down to do some grocery shopping, the place was a desert. No sign of anyone selling anything. I'm certain that the police continued to the next main street to the west where there is a large mall that doesn't sell anything other than knock offs. We've seen how quickly the word spreads and stores shut down. Goods disappear from sight and lights go out. There are lots of rules/laws that are ignored, and no one cares on a daily basis; even the police. But for one reason or another, the political wheels start spinning, and we then see soldiers marching on the street, police appearing to be stationed on random street corners, raids, and people arrested without reason. Even real estate salespeople have to stop handing out fliers in front of enormous compounds. They back off 20 feet, show some submission, wait for the police to move along, then continue doing what they always do. Those young pavement pounders loiter in front of every desirable compound in the city 16 hours/day. Somehow, it all seems to work for everybody. No one will worry about it tomorrow. Life goes on. Everyone seems to have work. The people have great attitudes, the parks are full, everyone's busy, and the sun shines Ü

The Household

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Well, well, well…where to start. It always seems like a whirlwind. Everything we do and teach is new. Everything involved in doing something new and teaching something new is also new. In fact, I feel like we’re all learning and experiencing more now than ever before. It’s all happening each new week, and just when you think it’s going to slow down, there’s a new plate waiting for you. It’s busy, lots of work, but very positive.

This particular entry will be dedicated to showing you some major walls/images in the ol’ Gribble household. Not your typical digs right now. Let’s start with our cats. (see the bottom and work your way up with each paragraph-I can't figure out how to manipulate where pictures go...) As I get up in the a.m., so do the cats, with immediate expectations after a rough and rowdy night. I open the door that leads to our living room before going into the bathroom. Our fluffy tabby, Beans, usually rushes by me into the bathroom, screaming, leaps onto the left side of the sink, waits for some obligatory petting, and soon settles under the faucet for his morning watering. Regular water next to the cat food is unacceptable at this point. Screaming will be relentless until water streams out of the faucet. Izzi will join the boy at times, but generally would rather go into the shower when we’re done. It has become an interesting obsession. Beans leads us to that faucet every time we enter the house, pretending at first to want petting, but then backing into where he wants us. Makes me think of Gary Larson—animals screwing with humans and living on the edge without letting us know what they do and say when we’re not there.

Joey has become enthralled with Chairman Mao’s reforms and thinks Obama would love it here. He’s got hats, shirts, and sweatshirts with blazing red stars. When it Rome…he’s bringing souvenirs home to friends to test the shock value in Washington. We’re educating that the humor may not transfer easily or well. Maybe him speaking Chinese will help. It’s fairly confusing to see the whole package at work. I can’t wait to watch it all myself!

How do you like the maps available in China? Interesting, don’t you think? Of course, China is the center of the world. Not sure I like this particular projection. Everywhere else becomes a bit convoluted and skewed to the point where you can’t see a realistic view. It’s as if the Western World is fairly insignificant. It does allow us to get a better understanding of Asia though.

Joey’s class took a trip to Inner Mongolia last week, which isn’t actually in Mongolia, as I’m sure most of you knew. It’s just south of Mongolia. The Gobi Desert is just one big playground. Meanwhile, Hailey was busy rock climbing and boating in SW of Shanghai, just outside of Guilin. Both had a ball while getting to see more of China. All students go on a week adventure each year starting in grade 6. It culminates in grade 11 as a service trip. Some explore Shanghai, others Beijing, Xian, etc.

We all thought it would be fun to make a Shanghai/China pros and cons list. It doesn’t get much amending since we started it in February. It’s just what it is, as they say. Many things we notice and other things go unnoticed, whether good nor bad. It’s all “interesting” in one way or another. Some of the things we don’t like are often transferred onto our list of items to bring to China after the summer break when we head back to Washington. Some things are so much a part of your everyday life in the states that they just make you more comfortable to have them…easy problem to solve with another suitcase Ü

Lastly, there are always some oddities that just have no real explanation. You just notice, look, wonder, think for reasons, make guesses, and then move on! Anne and I were visiting one of the local Starbucks last weekend. It was a bit warm inside, so while I added a bit of cinnamon to our drinks, Anne put a foot up on one of the planters outside and stretched a bit. She noticed two trees on each side that were growing well and were stabilized with ropes and wooden guides. In the middle of the planter was an exceptionally green evergreen. Oddly, some young shoots were growing out of the base, in the dirt. The top had some squared ends on the young branches of this 4 ft. tree, and they were shiny too! Yes, it was an artificial tree planted there with the best of them. THIS is China…Then, I step inside the big expat store, which has everything from the post office to sushi to motorcycles, and here’s a local woman in a nice Nike sweat suit wearing 8 inch stilettos that are supporting a 2 inch platform that she’s tippy toeing on, to shop…most of the sidewalks are some sort of stamped cobblestone-like texture with raised ribs for blind people to follow, yet 90% of all women wear high heels!

xoxo to all!

"Home"

What is the meaning of “home”? This is a tricky, confusing, and delicate subject among some people. Is your “home” where you were born? Your country of origin? The country of your passport? Where you are now? Where your family lives? Where your parents live? Where your children are? Where your heart is? Where you hang your hat?

Can “home” change? Does it go with you if you move or does it stay back somewhere? Is home a place? A house? An address? A country? A city?
Is it a feeling? A state of being? A people or a person?

When I lived in Kirkland, WA and if someone asked me where “home” was – I would say my address – “221 8th Ave. West.” (Side Note: We are currently selling this house if you want to buy it.) If they didn’t want my actual house number, then I may say the city that I lived in – “Kirkland.” If that didn’t make sense, I’d say the city I was born in – “Everett.” All those places were “home” to me. At least they were all in the same state and even the same country. If I was out of state - “Washington” was home. Out of the country – “the USA” was home. But now, I don’t live in the US anymore. Once we officially sell our house, it won’t be our house anymore either. SO, where is “home”? Is it here in Shanghai, China?

I was surprised at how quickly our small modest apartment could become like home. Does it “feel” like “home”? Yes. Does it “look” like “home”? Sure. Is it “home”? I guess so. I don’t really need it to be, and I don’t want to grab onto it as “home” out of fear because it has to be or else I don’t really have a home which would leave me “homeless” and that wouldn’t feel very comfortable. If China is not “home”, then is it back in Kirkland or Everett or Tulare Beach or Maui? I asked Doug a few months ago where “home” was to him, he said after some thoughtful moments… “here”. How quickly we adapt.

Maybe it depends on how you define “home”. Where is my soft place to fall? Here. Where is my family? Here. Where is my address? Here. Where do I hang my hat? Here. Where is my heart? AAAHHH>>>>here, BUT it’s also back in Washington state with my parents, sister, family and friends. It’s in Colorado with my brother and his family…it’s in California with my friends…it’s in…

The “heart” piece of “home” is going to get really confusing as I am falling in love with new friends and they are going to live all over the world in the next few years. I’m already starting to miss them and they haven’t gone anywhere. A matter of fact, they are just in the building next door and across the courtyard, and down the block. (And I was worried about making new friends…HA! – just took some time, energy, patience, fun times, a little tequila, and love.) If “home” is where my heart is then I’m going to have a lot of homes.

I see the concept of “home” is confusing to my students as they often have many. Dad is from France; Mom is from Holland, born in England, lived in Thailand, Singapore, and Japan, but lives in China now. Where is “home” for kids like these? In all those places? None of those places? A little bit in all of those different countries and cities and houses?

A friend shared with me that “home” to her is where her immediate family was. They are in Bangkok now, so that is “home” because they are currently living there. Another friend told me that her “home” is wherever her mother lives since she, herself, is constantly moving around the world, teaching.

I used to think that my definition of home could not change and had to stay in one place, but I think I’ll take it with me as I travel. If my “home” does not come with my family and me, then it will always be somewhere that I am not. I don’t think I like that feeling. I think I would be perpetually “homesick” or “away from home” which could be unsettling. However, at the same time – I realize that I am a guest in the country that I live in. It could be a “host country” or I could be a “long time visitor” or I could call it a “temporary home.” Especially here in China, I am reminded that I am a guest on a daily basis and need to act as one to keep myself here. If I make myself an unwanted guest – I could be sent packing…back “home”?

This is my blog. I get to write about my definition of home, but I know that this is such a personal subject to each of us. Where is “home” to you? Where you are now? Where you were born? Your country of origin? Where your parents live? Where you grew up? If you moved from where you live now – would “home” go with you or stay back?

For now, “home” is Shanghai, China because it’s where Joey and Hailey sleep. Before I know it, that will change and I will have to change my definition of “home” yet again. Until then, my home is here.

March 13--It's warmin' up!

Anne just had to roll up her sweats today as we sat sipping' a mocha at Starbucks. 60 degrees or so and clear skies (or some facsimile thereof). No one here really likes the sun. If you get tanned, you look like you're a street worker. If you just show some skin to cool down and/or tan, you look like you're trying to draw attention to yourself. Police were lookin' at her, locals were craning their necks, and of course, the street workers.

We went down the street to shop a bit before getting back to our report cards when we saw a car try to squeeze in, to take a left, a bit early. He crunched the side of a taxi. It occurred to us that most everyone just decides then and there how much it'll cost to get fixed-especially if it's obvious who was at fault. Money is exchanged, and I think the car that gets dented must make a bee line to the nearest body shop. I don't think we can remember EVER seeing a car with a dent. Crazy driving and no dents; go figure. I love it when the lights turn green in big intersections and I'm in a cab that needs to turn left. By rule, those turning left, ironically, have the right-a-way. When the lead car goes 3-5 trailing the play use that lead car as the screener and take a 45 degree angle into the cross street while all the on-coming cars wait a bit. No horns, no crashes, no problem. That's probably another reason for no dents--you always expect the unexpected.

Now how about the cardboard recycling truck that loads up after all the 3 wheelers deliver broken down cardboard boxes to the local center. Do you think a piece or two might fall out on the long freeway trek?

Joey and Hailey went to the big Usher concert here last night. It was much anticipated and was reported by the kids to be a pretty good show. Joey's friend couldn't wait to get a shirt. You have to try shirts of any size on here in China, as the listed size usually is arbitrary and means nothing. XL wouldn't fit Joey, and he's a large at best. Anyway, his friend found one for sale outside the venue, but before buying it, Joey wanted to note that it said, "Usher" "Beijing 2010". Perfect example of how you need to shop in Shanghai. One-they wanted $7-10 U.S. at first, but all of us locals know that if something's on the street, you bargain, and/or just "know" the price. This price was to be 10 RMB, or what is $1.25. Two-wrong year. Three-Usher has never been to Beijing. It sounds like a valuable collector's item in the U.S. Here, it's just English.

Joey said that there was guards at the concert that were hired to spy on all potential photographers, which wasn't allowed, and blind them with high powered green lasers-you know, the ones that are blinding pilots miles in the air, that you can buy here for 3 dollars-until you put your camera away. But just one or two guards had them! Clever stuff for a 12,000 seat arena...It made me think of the 15 soldiers that were marching in the neighborhood early this a.m. Not really making that mark among the 15000 that could step out of their apartments, within a 3 block radius, and quickly fill the streets, making them appear to be a sliver in the wood pile.

The Real Shanghai

Sooo, on the street, we often see jewelry, hats, toilet seat covers, books, corn, phone charge cards, CDs, sweet potatoes, strawberries, street meat, DVDs, but today, we stumbled upon some tiger paws and claws that could easily be hack sawed off for any type of creative necklace you could imagine. Or, just use some of the marrow from the bones in your tea to improve your health. I don't think tigers grow in China, but hey, this just proves that you can get ANYTHING in China. You just have to find out where to get it. I'm also pretty sure this would be illegal, along with underaged drinking, prostitution, copyright violations, and spitting. All of these things aren't really paid much attention by the authorities, unless of course it somehow gets into the local media.
The whole day to day, still, after 7 months is still intriguing, shocking, hilarious, fun, amazing etc. These subway pics are from one of my newest experiences; heading to a basketball game (Shanghai Sharks-they have one or two ex-NBA guys, that can only play 3 quarters here) at 5:30 at night, needing to make a few connections on the subway, one or two in some very busy parts of town. Anyway, it was shocking to approach this sea of humanity and see that they were all waiting patiently in line. Most places have more of the cultural flare and complete disregard for personal space, they cut in line at will. I get it why they cut, you get to where you want to be and go to where you want to go because that may be the only way you're going to get there.

We ended up, literally, 25 people deep. You've got to realize that these subways are over 200 feet long. The place was packed. The doors open, and it's like a syphon pouring into the train. I've only seen it in Tokyo. People finding every nook and cranny, pushing to squeeze their backsides past the doors. Everyone sees where the point of no return is and that's where the next person just waits for the next train. At that point, there's about 5 people in line, but soon extends back to 20 or so. A friend told me it was going to be like this, but I thought there was a bit of exaggeration....nope!

Sharks win comfortably in front of 3000 or so out of a possible 8-9000. The ticket booth was smaller than our bathroom. $20. They recently installed a concession stand in the fairly modern building-What is Yao Ming thinking? Aren't they supposed to try to make some money? No hats, shirts, hot dogs (oops, "sausage"), etc. other than popcorn, candy, and a warm can of beer, that they pour in front of you for $1.20 (they ran out by half-time). I can't remember the name of the famous guard from Oklahoma State that really lit it up for them....maybe because they don't have programs or rosters....good shooting display by both teams, which was fun. John Lucas' kid....he ran up the back of all those 6'7"-6'10" guys all night long. Speed kills, I know, as I've been dead since seeing it first hand at age 18.

This here, is what Anne and I saw as we walked by a popular spa that lots of teachers frequent to get their hair "done" or get a massage. It is what we see on a daily/weekly basis. It could be a remodel, a new business, or a makeover. You never really know until later. Somehow, all of the city worker bees find, get called/notified, sniff out where businesses are gutting property, and they sort and recycle materials onto their individual 3 wheelers until the frames bend. They will then pedal towards the recycle station until they can't move the load, then they'll continue on foot with ropes around their shoulders. It is amazing to see their will and determination in the midst of their smiles. It's a tough way to live, I'm sure.

I just had to put this in--one of the things that make us feel comfortable here. Coincidentally, I had to teach customary (95% of the world uses metrics, of course) units the next week. I have 2 kids from North America, and they recognized many of the terms/measures, but still didn't really understand it; the numbers really are ridiculous! Well, everything you see at a Starbucks in the States (except the food choices), shows up here in Shanghai-I doubt the reciprocal is true. Let me know if you want a "Shanghai" Starbucks mug! I had to laugh when I saw these mugs. No one knows what the numbers are for, they can't read English, so they can't say, "ounces", and there's no connection for short, tall, grande, and/or venti--Joey wants all to know that venti means 20 in Spanish...it's the same for me when a vendor on the street shows me Chinese characters representing prices for what they're selling. I have no idea what he's talking about! I say, "Wo ting bu dong!" (I don't understand)

Anne and I were shopping for Lamborghinis last week and we couldn't decide between the stylish green or spicy butter yellow. Fortunately there was a Rolls Royce dealer right next door. The newer hip versions really make you think about about practicality and safety. We're going to hold off for awhile as we are clearly conflicted. We're gonna head back to West Nanjing Rd. where we can compare Porche, Mercedes, Ferrari, and the newest Aston Martins all within a rock throw of each other. It's cool how they have their flagship stores inside hotels like Hyatts.

The Rhythm of the City

by Anne
February 2011


I am not musical. I wish I was, but I got the LARSON genes for musical ability. I think I actually may be tone deaf. I can’t make my voice do what I want or sing the tone that I hear. Sometimes I think I am doing pretty well hitting the notes, but I can tell by the look and laughter from my dear family that I am not close. The good news, it doesn’t stop me from singing because someone needs to entertain them in the long elevator ride up to the 16th floor of our apartment in Shanghai, China. (It’s fun to sing in a metal elevator because the sound bounces off the walls and it sounds even louder.) My BFF once told me in 8th grade, “Anne, can’t you just TRY (to hit the notes and be in tune).” Ouch. Thank God our children got the GRIBBLE genes for music.

Yes, I took piano lessons for seven years, but never really understood it, purely mechanical for me, nothing natural about the musical process in my brain.

So, for me to attempt to make a musical analogy about the rhythm of the city of Shanghai is almost a joke, but for some reason there is no choice because it is just too true that Shanghai has a rhythm. (I apologize now for all my incorrect musical vocabulary and grammar.) I’ve heard that saying before, “rhythm of the city”, but I just pictured a lot of people walking on the sidewalk like in New York City or something. (I’ve never been to NYC, just FYI.) I never really understood what it meant, nor have I ever felt apart of a city’s rhythm. I don’t think Kirkland has a rhythm…well, maybe if you are a car, a lot of “stops” because of all the crosswalks. In sleepy Mercer Island, maybe lots of “rests” and crescendos up the biking hills.

Shanghai has rhythm. It has a constant beat. No, Shanghai is constantly rocking! It’s constantly breathing, moving, singing, living in music. Yes, it’s the largest city by population in the world and as one would imagine with this many people, things would seem to be continually happening. We are not all sleeping at the same time. Our beat never stops. It’s not a song that ever gets old and it’s never the same each hour or minute for that matter.

As I sit here in bed in my 16th floor apartment with my two cats snuggled up to me, cozy with the covers over my legs (Beans just sat ON TOP of Izzi. Izzi does not move and is squished under Beans. Too cute and odd.) I can single out and hear…cars, car horns, motorcycles, trucks, squeaky brakes, scooter horns, bike bells, more horns…all combined to make its own music. The thought that this could be “street noise” or a negative sound has never enter my mind. It’s not “street noise,” it’s the rhythm of the city. It’s Shanghai’s song.

When we enter the musical piece of the city, we enter by stepping onto the sidewalk – we add our feet to the “rhythm of the beat.” (Aren’t those the lyrics to a Go-Go’s song?) Once we start walking briskly down the sidewalk, we have entered the piece and now are a part of this fine choreographed song. I am happy to be a part of the fun. The cars speed and stop and honk and squeak. The men on their street bikes call out in sweet strong Mandarin to advertise what they are selling. Lady Gaga is pumping out the stolen DVD store and onto the sidewalk where we walk. The young man’s tunes from the stereo on his bike are adding to Shanghai’s musical piece. Men and women yell at each other. Children cry. More horns honk. Women cough under their masks. Men farmer blow their noses. More horns. More talking that sounds like yelling. We keep walking. Time to cross the street – just don’t stop your rhythm or you’ll mess up the song. If we keep our pace, the cars will make their judgment calls based on our rhythm and keep their beat – all will be fine - the piece will continue. Just don’t stop your beat in the street…

I had no idea that I would love being a part of a big city’s rhythm, but I absolutely do. It’s so exciting and fun. When there would be a nice day in Kirkland, I would announce, “Come on everyone – let’s get downtown – everyone will be there – let’s get some ice cream or jump on the rocks or eat dinner at Jalisco’s!” I didn’t want to miss out on the fun in the city.

What I love here in Shanghai is that you can’t miss out on the fun because it’s always out there. The song never stops and you can come and go and join in whenever you want to and every time it promises to be a funky tune or an exciting musical or a fine orchestral piece. It’s always different, but always the same – never ending rhythm which takes on a life of its own. Shanghai Rocks.

Chinese New Year2

Now, let's check out the local grocery store. This particular one, Carrefour, is found in most countries throughout SE Asia. It's owned by French and set up for expats and others that are in need of western goods. Of course they have heavy Chinese influence and customers, so lots/most of the products are for the Chinese. We have chicken claws for $2, chickens with claws for #1/lb., cow hearts and tongues for cheap, and various unnamed parts to scoop and do what you want with etc. Then you have your shrimp. The cheap way to go, as it is with many items here-like with shrimp-is to scoop up the cooked or uncooked version in bulk and bring er on home. I sure miss the 2-3 lb. bag of cooked/no tail shrimp at Costco. The bagged/sealed schtuff here has an amazingly potent dead fish on the beach for 4 hr. smell to it. I microwave it for salad and nearly get myself removed from the premises for the sheer disgusting environment I've created. I must admit, it's not anything I've prepared in Kirkland. As you can also see, Anne prefers the street meat. This particular shot was taken on a 35 degree day outside a very popular ex-pat pedestrian walking mall where there's 25 or so international restaurants. I have the question as to why this happens in my "questions to Chinese" folder...I've found that it's futile to reason, infer, and/or use logic as a premise for any kind of explanation. This, is China.




This celebration has been going on for a couple of weeks now. These are good looks at eye level from our apartment during a party we had on Feb. 2nd. Funny, as I write, the same shots are going off just outside. It's been a blast--no pun intended. After the 2nd, people became much more reasonable with the times that they set off fireworks. I don't think it stopped on the 2nd. We were somewhat asleep at 3-5 a.m., but were never really sure. The amount of debris created was mind boggling-many fireworks are shot out of boxes, but notice that those are all gone after having been broken down. They get taken to a recycling center by city workers and workers get $ for it, and if you didn't see it early, the ayis had cleaned it up before 8 a.m. Remember, ayis are the apartment complex workers. There is an endless amount of worker bees on the streets. I truly believe that some of the cultural behaviors, like littering no matter where you are or what you're doing, is because everyone knows that there are people that are employed to take care of it.

Anne and I were walking today, as we do every Saturday and Sunday, to Starbucks, Carrefour, or wherever else we may need to go; like today we needed a Mac splitter, birthday presents for Joey, an iPhone charging speaker docking system for Anne's phone and computer in her classroom, so we went to the one stop shopping knock off mall-The Pearl Market (where we ran into Hailey and a few of her friends). Anyway, while walking, I noticed how effortlessly we could roll through the traffic because we had become "in-tuned" to the rhythm of the streets and city. No horns blaring at us as we crossed against the red lights, with the green as 5-10 cars were passing within touching distance of us on both sides, or when there were no lights and it was us and the cabbies finding the clear part of the street to cross on. It was totally comfortable, no jerky movements, just reasoned caution and insight. If we were in the Seattle area, people would have fists pounding on the front and back of cars, yelling, horns blaring, disgust, cries of inconsideration and unreasonable behavior. But no, all was done in the silence of the early mid morning dance. Around every corner, everyone is aware there could be someone selling freshly grilled corn or sweet potatoes, hats and long underwear, and/or CD's and DVD's, so the turns are wide, patience long, and lots of room for mopeds riding against the grain to pop up onto the sidewalk where they have 6 ft. x the entire block of sidewalk space to park.

We walk into Starbucks to split a raisin scone with cocoa and a mocha and never have to order anymore as the many shifts of employees all know our once complicated orders by heart, and all are happy to voice it out in English, while we reassure, compliment their efforts, and thank them in Shanghaiese. It really seems like home; one we're still figuring out, but a comfortable place to hang our hats and be part of the community. We get nothing but smiles, kind hearted people with cute, approachable kids, helpful guards at our complex, and lots of people that are a whole lot more like us than not. It brings to mind a quote I have on Skype--"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, & narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it solely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one corner of the earth all one's lifetime." -- Mark Twain This of course is not a comment on anyone we know, but more of an affirmation of our move, and hoping that we will have some lasting affect being God's ambassadors to China.

dg