[First a quick note on some limitations: I've had several requests for photos---and I had planned on sending some---but I realized I didn't pack the requisite camera-to-laptop cable (more on this later). Also, while I love reading your replies, please don't be concerned if I don't reply to each one of them---I barely have time to get these entries done with all my new "duties." But please, keep 'em coming.]
It's 5 AM here in Xi'An, and I'm writing to you in the dark trying to get this done before my new little project wakes up. Yesterday was a very long day, and this note may read like the dark Act 2 of a play or something. On Tuesday night, Meghan wasn't feeling good, so me and Cooper had our first meal together. Amazing how people, especially women, swarm around you when you have a little kid. I had three waitresses and a waiter helping me out (all probably thinking, oh boy, this guy really needs help!), fetching drinks, holding the high-chair, creating a bib out of a napkin, and just generalized smiling and staring. Anyway, it was fun, and will be the first of many feedings. I didn't eat much myself---at one point holding a fork in both hands---but I suppose that goes with the territory. Add in the lack of anything I can really tear into here----God, I would kill for a Double Decker Taco or a cheese pizza----and I may lose 10-20 pounds on this trip.
DRIVING ME CRAZY
We boarded the Death Van at 9 AM for a one-hour drive (our longest, gulp!) to the Terra Cotta Warriors archaeological dig. Again, I have to emphasize what a terrifying "thrill ride" this driving in China is. I've driven in downtown Manhattan before, but that was nothing. So many times I've thought, oh God, hold on, we're going to wreck, and we stop inches short of a Mercedes or a pedestrian or three kids on a scooter. Frequently our driver squeezes between a city bus and another van or truck, straddling two lanes (on Thursday we saw four lanes of traffic cram into two lanes of pavement, a scooter carrying 2 adults plus 2 children, and several instances of cars threading themselves the wrong way into oncoming traffic). He drives among this madness, listens to his iPod, and talks on his cell phone, at the same time. Our guide Celine said that while she has a driver's license, she refuses to drive in the city because she is too scared. She told us that our driver came in first place in a "driving competition." Oh joy, I thought, as I wrestled with whether I should now feel better or worse. Actually, he is a MASTER of watching his blind spots and general situational awareness---they all are---nudging over at just the right moment to allow someone to pass within inches. He knows the physical boundaries of this van down to the millimeter and can thread a needle with it. The whole scene is almost like a huge school of fish swerving and merging and darting, only more disorganized. And keep in mind, they do all of this with no seat belts, no helmets, and never a foul look or angry utterance from anyone over being cut off or approaching too closely (incredibly, nor have I seen a single wreck).
TERRA COTTA
OK, so we escaped downtown, exiting the 50-to-60-foot-thick, castle-like, 3-story, stone city walls, and made it---against all odds---to tour the huge digs of clay statues called the Terra Cotta Warriors. There are some 8,000 of these life-size statues, each one a unique likeness of a Chinese soldier that served the first Emperor around 2,000 BC. This was Cooper's maiden voyage in a stroller, and he did great! We took pictures (sorry!), fought off tenacious, in-your-face street vendors who clearly understand the concept of bait-and-switch, and of course, had lunch in a Chinese restaurant (really getting tired of rice and noodles). Which, I realized later, our guide probably just calls "a restaurant." I snapped a picture of the nearby mountains out here, only to see later that they were indistinguishable in the gray haze that has been here every day (we can't tell if it's overcast or just that smoggy, but the sky has been the exact same color all day, every day---ugh).
LOST IN THE CITY
We finally got back to the hotel around 3 PM, and I felt bad for not getting Cooper his normal nap from 12-2. I realized I'm starting to use Cooper's schedule to drive my own, and becoming somewhat of a drill seargent about it ("we can't do that, I need to get Cooper fed/bathed/into bed" haha). After a late nap, we decided to take a short, easy stroll down to the shopping mall a few blocks away to get some new shoes for Cooper, still wearing these thin, ragged, girly, lavender numbers from the orphanage. I also wanted to get some gifts for his primary caregivers and perhaps a cable for my camera. We got back to the hotel FOUR hours later.
So here's the thing: try navigating a busy, foreign place teeming with people, with all the signs in jibberish, nobody around who speaks your language, and no maps (what good would they be anyway?). We walked down the street to the exact center of the city, which is a huge traffic circle with no foot traffic allowed. All pedestrians have to (or are strongly encouraged!) to go underground into a sort of subway area that circles the same intersection. Only problem is, once underground you lose your landmarks, the only source of navigation. We got out, and stopped at a Canon store to get my USB cable. When I lifted my camera from my side to check the connection type, I gasped when I saw that half of it was gone. Someone had "pick-pocketed" the lens right off my camera (which requires a two-handed operation of clicking a button and turning the lens) and I hadn't even noticed. We had been warned about keeping our wallets and purses in front of us, but I had slung my camera to the side to prevent it swinging wildly as I pushed the stroller. Anyway, this was my first experience with personal theft, and it made me a little scared about my American cash and passport (now in my FRONT pockets), and colored my opinion of Xi'An. I told Meghan this really sucks (this was an expensive lens that I just got repaired), but that I wasn't going to let this incident ruin my mood for this momentous event. Camera lenses are replaceable.
We got the shoes and gifts, and started heading back to the hotel. Finally we realized we were going the wrong direction, and tried re-orienting ourselves, but we both lost our bearings after being underground in the non-descript labyrinth of the underground pedestrian walkway. We looked for a police officer, but they had all disappeared. We asked a few people, but nobody could understand us. We hailed a cab, and while the driver first nodded after we said the name of our hotel, he then refused to drive us there. We couldn't call the hotel because our cell phones don't work here (how would we describe where we were anyway?). Celine (whose number we did not have) had warned us not to be out after dark due to crime, and there was very little dusk afterglow left. And then, of course, it started to rain. I was feeling especially bad for keeping Cooper out this late, way past his dinnertime. We finally had to place our trust in two separate people that could barely understand us (by reading the hotel address on our keycard) who corroborated each other on which way to go---which was against both our instincts---and we followed their advice blindly. When we saw the flagpoles in front of the hotel, it looked like an oasis of safety in this mass of confusion and unknown threats.
COOPER STATUS
Which brings me to Cooper himself. This kid is absolutely amazing. We started this day at 9 AM and were driving and walking until that evening, and he cried only twice, briefly: when we closed up some food and when I walked ahead of he and Meghan to the top of an escalator to get some street views. Mostly he just sat in the stroller, calmly kicking his feet, checking out all the new sights. I told him several times that he was being very good ("hinn hao") and thanking him ("shie shie"). On the relationship/daddyhood front, things seem to be going pretty well. I had that distinct pleasure of wrasslin' liquid poop for the first time, am getting the feeding and bathing down, and have had lots of in-your-face interaction with him. We had our first---somewhat one-sided---pillow fight, and he loves laying on the bed next to me and laying an arm or leg on me, or running his hand over my mouth and beard after he wakes. In more wakeful times he likes playfully pushing his face against mine, and lifting his shirt up taunting me with an anticipatory smile to blow on his belly or tickle him. When standing up, he likes to bury his head between my legs and grab my legs with his arms. Yesterday he was lying in bed after waking, jabbering about something either in Chinese or in baby talk (it's all the same to me), and I thought he sounded like one of George Lucas' Jawas from Star Wars. Haha. And more and more, he seems to be coming out of his shell, tonight being the most crazy time we've seen, as he would have nothing of going to bed. All evening he was like a caged animal, walking around handing me stuff (perhaps this is my fault, because this morning I reacted strongly when he handed me my sunglasses just after I had gotten dressed!), rough-housing, and smacking my legs or pulling my leg hair (some correction needed here). He also was entranced with that shiny box of changing pictures that he'd probably never seen before---let a lifetime of TV watching begin. (We watched a few innings of our first baseball together, when the Chinese ESPN replayed the baseball All-Star Game----thank God for that little slice of Americana!!).
So here's my question for all you parents: is it really possible that we're attaching to each other this quickly? Only 72 hours ago, he was scared to death of me. And what I've also noticed is that all that constant stuff like bathing and changing and feeding and dressing and watching is not as painful as I expected. In the long adoption decision process over the past 6 years, I've questioned whether I really wanted all that extra work. After all, I was very content just doing my own thing, enjoying my full freedom. But what strikes me is that this stuff doesn't feel like work. It's almost like it's automatic (must be the oxytocin kicking in, for you psych students), and this kid is not even my own, biologically. Anyway, God, I'm so glad I went through with it now. He is such a good kid, rosy cheeks and open-mouthed, lips-over-teeth smile and all.
CULTURAL GRAB BAG
Every day we seen a dozen instances of women riding side-saddle on the back of motorcycles---do they do that in America?
And I have to mention the thin, middle-aged man that parked his scooter on the street and proceeded to relieve himself on the pavement, in full view of six lanes of traffic, no bush or tree (or bathroom!) needed.
The housekeeping ladies here are dressed in French maid outfits, white lacy aprons and black tops, and they test the goodness of AA batteries by biting into them.
Who the heck knows if it's legal or not, but they have these weird convoluted left turns where none exist: after turning left at a major intersection, you turn right into the far-left lane of oncoming traffic (seemingly going the wrong way), and then left into your desired street.
The beauty of translation:
(1) We ordered room service last night after our little adventure, and the only things non-Chinese we could find on the menu were spaghetti and lasagna, so we ordered one of each. Room service called later and said the lasagna was "finished", to which I replied "great!" Then when the delivery showed up, there was no lasagna, only spaghetti. After more slow, repetitive questioning and broken-English answers (and passing the phone to 4 different individuals), we learned that by "finished" they meant "gone" or "unavailable."
(2) We've met several other families also on their adoption journeys, and one I met this morning (a Cardinals fan!) told me about his newspaper request interaction with the hotel front desk: "Do you have the New York Times or the London Times?" "Ah yes, New York time is 9 PM, London time is 2 AM."
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