Hello from Columbia, Missouri, United States of America!!!
Well, life is now---as you parents know---a complete whirlwind, and I got sick on the way home for a day or two, so I've been unable to write, but I figured I owed you guys a conclusion to the ongoing Cooper saga. I'm extremely happy to report that we made it home Saturday morning. Finally.
COMING HOME
We had last Thursday "off", so we made one last shopping tour to get some souvenirs (a touristy Chinese-print tie will be making an appearance at an office near you!) and made one more swim with the kid (even in light rain). Jennifer visited the American Consulate on Thursday to get Cooper's visa package, which turned out to be way more than just a visa sticker on his passport like it was for us from the Chinese Consulate. He got a whole package of documents, encased in a non-descript, letter-sized brown envelope, itself encased in plastic. We were told not to open the contents and to deliver it directly to the Immigration officials in the United States. The envelope even had ink stamps across the flap to discourage us from opening it. We felt like international spies or something.
Friday was one of those days like the outbound trip, exhausting but exciting. We could not wait to get home. We woke at 5 AM (now totally shifted into China time, which has a single time zone), flew from Guangzhou to Shanghai (2.5 hours), waited 5 hours, then boarded the marathon flight of 14 hours back to Newark, NJ. Thankfully, the Boeing 777's entertainment system was working and we made sure not to sit by the freezing exit door (things opposite the outbound flight). We departed at 3:45 PM, flew 14 hours, and landed around 6 PM---halfway around the word on only 2.5 clock hours! We read, watched movies, ate four meals, and entertained our young passenger. I celebrated with Cooper on his new citizenship, which became effective the moment we hit US soil. We have decided that Cooper is a really good traveler: a few minor upsets, but no real problems with flying for 14 hours, and again no issues with air pressure changes. Wow (even Dad had a little bit of the latter).
We waited in long lines for Immigration and then US Customs, and eventually got to a hotel to spend most of our 11-hour layover. We caught the 5:30 AM flight to Houston, and got into IAH around 8:30 AM Saturday. I was so weak and feverish, I could hardly walk, but we made it somehow.
After we got home, it took days to get adjusted to Houston time, since we were completely shifted to China time which is 12 hours later. We were so out of whack that I slept Saturday night until 4 AM Sunday and stayed awake until early Tuesday morning. Immersing myself in Americana, I relished the Cardinals beating the Cubs on ESPN and---very exciting---I took Cooper on his very first Taco Bell visit! The sleep deprivation program continued overnight on Monday, as Meghan and I stayed up all night and watched movies because we were so awake.
After some important visits to Cooper's doctor and two day-care centers (ironically, we received an offer at the JSC one while we were in China), and decided that Cooper was such a good traveler, we'd set out for Missouri to meet the (quite anxious) grandparents. Fifteen hours on the road suddenly seemed less daunting after all those hours on an airplane. (Cooper must think he was adopted by gypsies.)
COOPER AND DAD
Cooper continues to make progress, and this whole affair with him feels a bit like a love story to me. He is absolutely amazing. Like all parents I assume, I've come to know all his little faces and sounds and what they mean, and can usually anticipate what will make him laugh or cry. I love the little grunting sound he makes when he sees a dog, how he claps his hands when his toy car plays its song, and the big smile he always gets when I offer to pick him up. I can't wait for our relationship to be enriched even further with language (he can already say several words we've taught him, and can understand even more), and I can feel my love for him growing every day. Again, this is old stuff for you parents, but I often wonder where this intrinsic parenting motivation comes from. In this case, I can't attribute it to him being "mine", biologically, but it's still there. It must be instinctual, as we saw many other people in China adopting kids from another country because they did not have any (or enough) of their own. Anyway, it's just an amazing thing, and I'm glad to get to experience it. I know it will be a lot of effort and cost and worry, but for me, it's the only thing that really matters in life when all is said and done. I can't wait to watch him grow and learn.
CHINA
Finally a word of reflection about China. I realized on my last day there that I had this dichotomy going on in my brain: I was so tired of all the people, people everywhere, but I had really enjoyed meeting Chinese people on a personal basis. From half a world away and often without language to help us connect, we made some friends across the planet. There was the old man I played "cheen toe" with (hacky sack but with a weighted feather) in the park. There were the giggling teenage girls who asked to take Cooper's picture inside KFC, or the ones who wanted Meghan's picture or my picture (you can just hear them saying later, "look, here are some strange Americans we saw in the city"). There was the waitress in Xi'An that could not stop smiling and staring at Cooper, fixing his bib, filling his water, serving him congee unsolicited. There was the shopkeeper Jordan that spoke very good---and very sales-oriented---English---who wrote Cooper's name in Chinese calligraphy for free. Our guides, "Celine" and "Jennifer", had been exceedingly helpful, Celine even going inside the airport and waiting in line with us to make sure we got checked in, and Jennifer performing the life-saving task of ordering us a pizza from Papa John's on our last night (need I say how good THAT tasted?). And, of course, I was touched by Cooper's orphanage "Grandma" and teacher, who greeted me with big smiles and showed absolutely no suspicion or resentment about their wonderful "Xinyan" being uprooted to another country by a complete stranger. I had wondered if we would experience any feelings of resentment from the Chinese people, perhaps generated from a foreigner taking one of their children away, but in fact---while it may have been a case of "if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything"---we had several Chinese strangers on the plane or on the street tell us that they believed Cooper was lucky or would have a good life. Without exception, especially when people laid eyes on Cooper, we were met with a smile. (I realized later that, since verbal communication was usually impossible, the smile alone had been the common facilitator in all the personal interactions above, proving to me once again that it may be the cheapest, greatest gift you can give anyone. It truly serves as the universal communicator of good will.)
DONE BUT JUST STARTING
OK, so now my new life and Cooper's new life begin, together. I truly appreciate you reading these "blog" entries and coming along with me on this journey. Knowing that I had a connection to people back home really helped me survive the international, inter-cultural isolation. After we get back from Missouri next week, I'll see those of you in Houston soon so you can meet my little import.
Thanks for coming along,
Dave
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Day 9/10/11 - Cooper Day 7/8/9
Things continue to go well here in China, except that I got sick for about a day (nothing major, and I'm fine now). Jennifer took us to a huge city park on Sunday, which reminded me of New York's Central Park with its large exposed rocks and how it made you forget that you were in the middle of a giant city, except that it had dense, lush, tropical vegetation. In its center was a large statue of 5 rams, whom myth says gave people the knowledge to grow rice (and boy, were they good learners!). After the park, we visited the temple compound of the Chen dynasty, a set of brightly painted, intricately adorned buildings that served as living and educational quarters for the dynasty's children. As for the weather, it's very much like Houston here, hot and sticky.
A STROLL THROUGH THE MARKET
On Monday we went to have Cooper's TB test checked (he came out OK) and I sat with Jennifer for a while to sign some more paperwork for the US Consulate. Afterward, we decided to brave the city streets again, unguided, to see some sights and get out of our tiny hotel room. We followed directions to the "shopping area" from Jennifer, and started to enter an unforgettable Southeast Asia open-air market. In small 10-by-10 foot booths side by side, shopkeepers were selling virtually anything they could get their hands on. We saw live chickens and ducks, turtles in tubs of water, plastic pans of scorpions, hunks of tree fungi, dried sea horses, and thousands of shiny, black insects laid out on the sidewalk on a blanket. Meghan even got a real-live coconut for a drink. We saw several shopkeepers slumped over asleep in their stores, small groups of men playing cards literally on the street, men pulling ridiculously loaded rickshaws, and people sweeping the curbs with these primitive, handmade thatch brooms. Had we not been full aready, Meghan and I would have feasted at this place (right).
Anyway, after we got back, I took Cooper for (possibly) his first swim ever. The hotel has a pool on its roof, and it was cool to see the city from 9 floors up, with the pool extending to the very edge of the building. OK, so what will be Cooper's reaction, I wondered? Might he be scared or at least reticent about this huge "bathtub"? Well, true to form, he did great and loved it. By the end, he was riding on me piggyback and jumping into the water for me to catch him, his mouth open as wide as he could get it, that trademark, high-pitched staccato baby laughter tumbling out.
MORE SHOPPING
With our new navigational confidence, we decided to set out again on Tuesday while our guide interviewed at the American consulate on our behalf. This stuff is just mentally exhausting without a guide. Will the cab driver understand where to take us? Will we be able to find the right shop when the street signs everything is in Chinese? Do we have the right form of payment, and if not, where do we go to get it changed? It was these very factors that made purchasing a new camera lens---even better and cheaper than the one I had stolen---a hilarious, protracted affair. How do you ask about a warranty? Or a user's manual? Or even that "I want to buy it." Then we had to pay in both dollars and yuan, since I didn't have enough yuan, and that further complicated things. (Yes, I've been saying "yen" the whole trip, but that's Japanese, not Chinese---a perfect example of American ignorance!) We bumped into a McDonald's and decided to give Cooper his first french fries, but for some reason the meal was unsatisfying for both Meghan and I (too many noodles?).
We also took a spin through the "shopping mall" after a short cab ride (giving the driver the address written out in Chinese by Jennifer), and it was very different from your typical American mall. It was 7 stories high, no large "anchor stores" as far as we could tell, and each floor was a rectangle of small, glass-walled stores not more than 12 feet wide, selling very specific products. I had wanted to go to buy a cool, Chinese-label sport shirt, but all we could find were American labels (or knock-offs), like Polo, Nike, Jeep, and even "US Coast Guard." That may have been the only time on the trip that I got too much America.
TODDLER OATH
This afternoon was the big day for Cooper, when he was to visit the American consulate to take his oath. We were in a group of 50 families also adopting, nearly half of which were adopting for a second or third time. One family was adopting for the sixth time, and one father---with his 12-year-old daughter---was adopting a 12-year-old girl. Twelve years in an orphanage---ugh! As we talked to them and I could see how happy the adopted girl seemed with her new family, it made me feel very happy for her.
So we all stood and raised our right hands, and Cooper swore that all the information he had supplied was accurate. After our guide picks up his visa tomorrow, he becomes a US citizen the moment he hits US soil (Saturday).
COOPER PROGRESS
We finally solved the diarrhea problem, and boy, am I relieved. I'll take solid poop any day of the week! We finally followed the advice of a doctor at the clinic, who said to give him warm foods only. We thought it was silly folk wisdom, but it seems to have worked (something did). Strange, but after my trial by fire of messy diapers (which for some reason I thought was normal for toddlers), I get all excited now about changing dirty diapers. It's all downhill from here!
We think he said "daddy" today, as well as "doggie" and "yay". He lowered himself off me tonight to go see Meghan, stopped, and turned around to give me a slow wave good-bye before leaving the room. Very cute. He was also tapping the toilet seat yesterday, so I wondered if he was trying to tell me something and threw him on there---and he used it! He also likes to hand me the shampoo or start putting water on his head in the bathtub if I'm not expeditious enough. He eats everything in sight, is very inquisitive about buttons and doors and drawers and well, everything, and is finally responding to the word "no" (I messed up the other day when playing peek-a-boo with him by saying "boo", the Chinese word for "no").
FUN WITH TRANSLATION:
It's the little subtle ones that tickle me:
By a toaster oven in the restaurant: "warm attention"
On the pool railing: "do not across the railing"
Jennifer describing a low-price store: "It's like War Malt"
RESTAURANT PRIMER:
Some consistent things we've noticed in Chinese restaurants:
1. there are no drive-thrus
2. the wait staff is very attentive
3. the food is delivered one dish at a time when it's ready, not all together
4. napkins are non-existent or very small in size and number
5. The prices are low; we usually eat for 20-25 USD.
FINALLY
OK, I admit it: I'm homesick. Of course I'm very, very glad I did this, as I now have this incredible son, and I also like seeing other cultures. But I am SO ready to get back home to the United States. Today when I walked into the American Consulate, and read the sign "General Consulate of the United States of America" alongside an American flag, I reflexively got the biggest ear-to-ear grin on my face. I miss real pizza, baseball games, drive-thrus, iced drinks, English signage and conversation, less people and traffic congestion, blue skies, talking with friends and family, and yes, even work. Less than 48 hours to go.
Dave
A STROLL THROUGH THE MARKET
On Monday we went to have Cooper's TB test checked (he came out OK) and I sat with Jennifer for a while to sign some more paperwork for the US Consulate. Afterward, we decided to brave the city streets again, unguided, to see some sights and get out of our tiny hotel room. We followed directions to the "shopping area" from Jennifer, and started to enter an unforgettable Southeast Asia open-air market. In small 10-by-10 foot booths side by side, shopkeepers were selling virtually anything they could get their hands on. We saw live chickens and ducks, turtles in tubs of water, plastic pans of scorpions, hunks of tree fungi, dried sea horses, and thousands of shiny, black insects laid out on the sidewalk on a blanket. Meghan even got a real-live coconut for a drink. We saw several shopkeepers slumped over asleep in their stores, small groups of men playing cards literally on the street, men pulling ridiculously loaded rickshaws, and people sweeping the curbs with these primitive, handmade thatch brooms. Had we not been full aready, Meghan and I would have feasted at this place (right).
Anyway, after we got back, I took Cooper for (possibly) his first swim ever. The hotel has a pool on its roof, and it was cool to see the city from 9 floors up, with the pool extending to the very edge of the building. OK, so what will be Cooper's reaction, I wondered? Might he be scared or at least reticent about this huge "bathtub"? Well, true to form, he did great and loved it. By the end, he was riding on me piggyback and jumping into the water for me to catch him, his mouth open as wide as he could get it, that trademark, high-pitched staccato baby laughter tumbling out.
MORE SHOPPING
With our new navigational confidence, we decided to set out again on Tuesday while our guide interviewed at the American consulate on our behalf. This stuff is just mentally exhausting without a guide. Will the cab driver understand where to take us? Will we be able to find the right shop when the street signs everything is in Chinese? Do we have the right form of payment, and if not, where do we go to get it changed? It was these very factors that made purchasing a new camera lens---even better and cheaper than the one I had stolen---a hilarious, protracted affair. How do you ask about a warranty? Or a user's manual? Or even that "I want to buy it." Then we had to pay in both dollars and yuan, since I didn't have enough yuan, and that further complicated things. (Yes, I've been saying "yen" the whole trip, but that's Japanese, not Chinese---a perfect example of American ignorance!) We bumped into a McDonald's and decided to give Cooper his first french fries, but for some reason the meal was unsatisfying for both Meghan and I (too many noodles?).
We also took a spin through the "shopping mall" after a short cab ride (giving the driver the address written out in Chinese by Jennifer), and it was very different from your typical American mall. It was 7 stories high, no large "anchor stores" as far as we could tell, and each floor was a rectangle of small, glass-walled stores not more than 12 feet wide, selling very specific products. I had wanted to go to buy a cool, Chinese-label sport shirt, but all we could find were American labels (or knock-offs), like Polo, Nike, Jeep, and even "US Coast Guard." That may have been the only time on the trip that I got too much America.
TODDLER OATH
This afternoon was the big day for Cooper, when he was to visit the American consulate to take his oath. We were in a group of 50 families also adopting, nearly half of which were adopting for a second or third time. One family was adopting for the sixth time, and one father---with his 12-year-old daughter---was adopting a 12-year-old girl. Twelve years in an orphanage---ugh! As we talked to them and I could see how happy the adopted girl seemed with her new family, it made me feel very happy for her.
So we all stood and raised our right hands, and Cooper swore that all the information he had supplied was accurate. After our guide picks up his visa tomorrow, he becomes a US citizen the moment he hits US soil (Saturday).
COOPER PROGRESS
We finally solved the diarrhea problem, and boy, am I relieved. I'll take solid poop any day of the week! We finally followed the advice of a doctor at the clinic, who said to give him warm foods only. We thought it was silly folk wisdom, but it seems to have worked (something did). Strange, but after my trial by fire of messy diapers (which for some reason I thought was normal for toddlers), I get all excited now about changing dirty diapers. It's all downhill from here!
We think he said "daddy" today, as well as "doggie" and "yay". He lowered himself off me tonight to go see Meghan, stopped, and turned around to give me a slow wave good-bye before leaving the room. Very cute. He was also tapping the toilet seat yesterday, so I wondered if he was trying to tell me something and threw him on there---and he used it! He also likes to hand me the shampoo or start putting water on his head in the bathtub if I'm not expeditious enough. He eats everything in sight, is very inquisitive about buttons and doors and drawers and well, everything, and is finally responding to the word "no" (I messed up the other day when playing peek-a-boo with him by saying "boo", the Chinese word for "no").
FUN WITH TRANSLATION:
It's the little subtle ones that tickle me:
By a toaster oven in the restaurant: "warm attention"
On the pool railing: "do not across the railing"
Jennifer describing a low-price store: "It's like War Malt"
RESTAURANT PRIMER:
Some consistent things we've noticed in Chinese restaurants:
1. there are no drive-thrus
2. the wait staff is very attentive
3. the food is delivered one dish at a time when it's ready, not all together
4. napkins are non-existent or very small in size and number
5. The prices are low; we usually eat for 20-25 USD.
FINALLY
OK, I admit it: I'm homesick. Of course I'm very, very glad I did this, as I now have this incredible son, and I also like seeing other cultures. But I am SO ready to get back home to the United States. Today when I walked into the American Consulate, and read the sign "General Consulate of the United States of America" alongside an American flag, I reflexively got the biggest ear-to-ear grin on my face. I miss real pizza, baseball games, drive-thrus, iced drinks, English signage and conversation, less people and traffic congestion, blue skies, talking with friends and family, and yes, even work. Less than 48 hours to go.
Dave
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Day 6/7/8 - Cooper Day 4/5/6
Greetings from beautiful Guangzhou!
We have escaped the crushed mass of humanity known as Xi'An City, and I am now writing you during naptime (for both Cooper and Meghan, the latter of whom always kids herself by thinking she's going to "read for a while" during naptime---I think the book is really just her version of a teddy bear) from the Victory Hotel on Shamian Island. (Yes, technically, I suppose it IS an island, but if there's a river on one side and a man-made "moat" on the other, does it really qualify?) Anyway, here we go (CAUTION: this is a long one.)
DEPRESSING DIGS
On Thursday we visited Cooper's home to this point, the Xi'An Children's Welfare Institute, or orphanage. We had to endure another 45-minute drive to the outskirts of the city, but we had a new driver who seemed somewhat less aggressive, though he still had to deal with the non-stop circus outside our windows. I was very interested to see where Cooper had lived, and wished I had my camera to document it (Meghan loaned me hers instead). After thinking about it from all perspectives, I decided to leave Cooper in the lobby of the orphanage with Meghan while I took the tour of his rooms on the third floor. I just could not see any benefit to him by taking him back up there. I'm sure his teachers would have loved to see him again (as evidenced by the one lady who saw him in in the lobby and came running over, shouting out his Chinese name (XinYan) over and over again), but I figured seeing his old rooms and teachers again would either confuse him, make him want to stay, or make him fear that we were returning him (the latter of which my case worker had said sometimes happens). I was very curious to see where, exactly, my boy had come from.
Based on the meticulous level of detail they use in tracking their kids' progress (they gave me complete medical/vaccination information, photographs taken every 3-6 months, and even a report of the dates for each tooth eruption), I truly believe that the Chinese care deeply about their children, even in the macro, societal sense. But boy, this place was depressing. The overall sense of it was dark and dingy, with very little light and bare concrete floors in some places. Everywhere I looked, it was clear that they were running on a minimal budget. It almost made me cry when they took me in to see his crib, its light blue metal frame immersed in that image of 20-30 wooden, toyless cribs lined up rail to rail, giving me a cold, institutional feeling of a factory or something. They had very few lights on in the place, and flipped them on in the classroom just after we walked up (perhaps electricity in China is expensive; that would also explain the keycard requirement for power in the hotel rooms). The classroom was less impactful, looking much like an American daycare, but institutional and bare-bones nonetheless. Ten to twelve kids sat in the floor with three workers, most of them braving a wave hello to the most recent set of strangers in the window.
I was eager to speak with Cooper's "Gramma", the lady that took primary care of him the last two years in a group of three children (Cooper plus a boy and a girl). Of course, she could not speak English, but my guide Celine served as intermediary and we got into my questioning. In a flood of non-descript, rapid-fire Chinese sounds, I learned that his name, AnXinYan, was chosen like this: all the kids here are given the same surname of "An" to reflect the city; his first name, "Xin" (pronounced "sheen") means renewed, fresh, etc., to reflect that he has been given a new life after being found in a hospital, and "Yan" (pronounced "yawn") means literally "wild goose", which was the name of the police station where he was first reported (which, by the way, is the part of the name I am very glad I kept after seeing him bounce off the walls the other night before going to bed).
After the tour, I was stoic and couldn't figure out what I was feeling. The place depressed me, but I felt sort of guilty for feeling depressed. After all, these caregivers were doing the very best that they could do with the conditions they were given. Kudos to them for taking care of the next generation, knowing that none of their relationships with the kids are long-lasting or that they will ever be thanked by them. I promised Cooper's Gramma that I would send her periodic updates and pictures, and thanked her profusely for doing such a good job with my son, wondering all the while if the intensity of my gratitude would be able to cross the chasm of translation.
After returning to Meghan (and a crying Cooper after he saw me on the stairs), I told her about the place and she asked, "So do you still feel guilty about taking him out of here?" "No, not really", I replied, with a closed, half smile, hoping somehow, some way, all the other kids I had just seen would find a way out of there to a family of their own. I also felt much better about my mandatory donation to the orphanage, knowing that they needed so much more (after they were so excited when we gave them some pairs of shoes too small for Cooper, I decided to send them Cooper's clothes as he outgrows them).
FINAL ESCAPE
Friday was our travel day out of Xi'An. In the evening we were leaving for Guangzhou, where all the final processing is done for adoptions by American parents due to the presence of the American consulate there. This would be Cooper's very first time on an airplane, and be a good early indicator of the difficulty of the 14-hour flight we had in our near future.
That afternoon we toured the city wall, walking on top of it like you see people do on the Great Wall (or the castle wall of your choice). Just as we had seen at the Terra Cotta Warriors site, our "tour guide" (not our adoption guide) began as a history-telling guide and ended as a salesperson for the local souvenir shop. We've come to expect a sales pitch at every turn. This was our last event with Celine, so we made sure to get her dark-haired, Scooby-Doo Daphne likeness in a few photographs, along with me and my borrowed pink, flowered parasol/umbrella. Incidentally, did you know that in China they say "chez" instead of "cheese" to generate smiles for pictures? Better than saying "eggplant", I suppose (the meaning of "chez").
We got to the airport early, and I laughed when Meghan walked into a restroom and back out in no time, refusing to use the Chinese public toilets, ceramic holes in the floor with no seat. In the gate area, we had a blast talking with 6 school teachers from China, one an English teacher so we could communicate. She started the interaction by walking up and offering me pumpkin seeds and watermelon seeds, and I proceeded to ruin the international reputation of all American seed-eaters right there. Pumpkin seeds I could crack---after generous training, trials, and Chinese laughter---but hard, dried, thin, tough watermelon seeds? No way. That's a cost-to-benefit ratio I'm definitely not interested in.
Once on the airplane---which looked remarkably like a Southwest Airlines plane---Cooper didn't understand why he had to sit down, restrained by a seat belt, but he did OK on his first flight. He cried to get out of the restraint, but then settled down. I fed him dinner (every Chinese flight we've taken has served a meal so far), and he fell asleep. It was a good precursor for the marathon flight back to the States, as he didn't seem scared, didn't have any ear pressure problems, and didn't cry very long about having to sit.
SOMETHING'S....DIFFERENT
We landed in Guangzhou, found our new guide, "Jennifer", and boarded the van for the hotel. Without thinking about it, something seemed different here. Where was all the crazy traffic? Why are these roads so smooth? Why is our driver using turn signals? Slowly but immediately, Guangzhou began to revive us, with its brighter street lighting, its more orderly traffic, its newer and more frequent signage. The hotel was just as nice as the last one, with white marble floor and bellhops galore in the lobby. Jennifer told us of a place nearby called Lucy's Bar, "a restaurant the American families like" (noticeably not "a restaurant I like"), and we have already been there three times. Yes! Pizza and pasta and burgers and enchiladas and ice cream! We may survive this trip after all. Lucy's was a direct appeal to the Western adoption crowd, all the workers in blue jeans and red polo shirts, the menu full of American and Mexican food and drink, Hollywood photos and movie posters on every wall, and almost every table with a permanent baby chair.
This little area on Shamian Island is the funnel point for American Chinese adoptions, the White Swan Hotel nearby called "the baby hotel" by the locals due to all the adoption business. It's somewhat of a cottage industry here, with small mom and pop shops dedicated to selling American-oriented baby clothes and souvenirs.
The general impression of Guangzhou continued the next day: we woke to sunshine for the first time in a week, and were pleased with the cleanliness, professional atmosphere, and bright lights of the medical clinic we visited for Cooper's final exam to clear him through US immigration (he came in at 33 inches and 25 pounds). This was Lucy's clientele times 3 or 4, adoptive families seated everywhere, white clad nurses scurrying between them, and doctors set up in multiple stations for the exam (this very basic set of checks required four different examiners in different rooms). The level of activity was like an emergency room on a Summer Saturday night. I experienced my first empathetic pain when I held Cooper as he cried during his TB test. Seeing all these Chinese kids making their way to the US and other countries, of all different ages and sizes, made me think that international adoption is probably China's secret plan to infiltrate and someday take over the world. Haha.
The next day (Sunday) we took the city tour, and saw several old Chinese temples and other buildings (getting tired of ducking under low doorways and ceilings), with incredibly intricate carvings and weavings and architecture.
THE MIRACLE OF ATTACHMENT
I told you this was a long one! As father and son, I think Cooper and I are doing OK. This is my first time doing this so I have no reference point, but he seems attached to me and seems to be fairly content with how things are going so far (Dad sure is!). His personality comes out more all the time, and he seems to get feistier every day and is already giving me reason to be a proud daddy. His vocalizations have become more frequent, more loud, and more articulate, with some noticeable English sounds being made. He's known his new name for a few days now, and yesterday he said the words "food" and "book"! When walking down the sidewalk yesterday, I said, rhetorically, "give me your other hand"----and he did! Now, how did he know that? We think he's a bit of a clean freak, too, as he's picked up a plastic wrapper off the floor and handed it to me, put a pair of his shorts into his suitcase unprompted, and returned a water bottle to its place in his backpack (by the way, I'm calling them "sucky cups", since you don't really "sip" out of them). I decided to test the limits here and handed him a wadded up piece of paper and said "go throw it away" (in English, mind you!), without pointing, and he walked over to the trash can and tossed it in. Impossible, right? Anyway, now I'm afraid he's going to start thinking of Dad as a slob (he'll be telling me to clean MY room).
We also seem to have a small problem with reprimands. When he does something wrong, and I get stern with him, mustering all the body language and tough tone of voice I can (since I don't know his language), he laughs. He apparently thinks the whole "no!" thing is a big, funny joke. Meghan joked that the compliance and cooperation displayed the first few days was just a scheme to get me to sign all the papers. He's also inserted himself into the stroller when he's ready to go, handed me the shampoo when I'm taking too long in the bathtub, and tried feeding crackers to Queen Latifah on the TV. Anyway, I think he's attaching to me more every day, is adjusting to the new language quickly, and is coming out of the shellshock of having his world turned upside down last week.
SNAPSHOTS
I've always heard pregnant mothers say how they're losing their minds since they got pregnant. Well, I feel like there's now so much more to remember---especially where things are---and my scatter-brainedness was demonstrated today as I looked down and realized I had addressed the postcard to my mother to "Pepto Marquette". We had just been talking about giving Cooper some Pepto Bismol, of course.
Some more city sights: construction scaffolding made of bamboo & twine, women walking arm in arm all over the place, a highway sign reading "Do not drive tiredly", a guy packing away scrap re-bar on his back from some highway construction, and a highway vendor wearing one of those netted lumbar back supports on his head.
A hand-written sign in a retail shop for a toy that you can see with no light: "grow in the dark", hard evidence of the transposition of Ls an Rs in Chinese speech.
Rather than hacky sack, here we saw dozens of people playing "cheen toe", a similar kicking game but using a weighted, feathered projectile instead.
I could really use a drink with some ICE in it!
Scratching out a living in retail: each time we've gotten Cooper's picture taken, we've visited a little mom-and-pop store with a small, point-and-shoot camera, one of which had to dig his printer out and reconnect it to make some copies.
Just 5 more days,
Dave
We have escaped the crushed mass of humanity known as Xi'An City, and I am now writing you during naptime (for both Cooper and Meghan, the latter of whom always kids herself by thinking she's going to "read for a while" during naptime---I think the book is really just her version of a teddy bear) from the Victory Hotel on Shamian Island. (Yes, technically, I suppose it IS an island, but if there's a river on one side and a man-made "moat" on the other, does it really qualify?) Anyway, here we go (CAUTION: this is a long one.)
DEPRESSING DIGS
On Thursday we visited Cooper's home to this point, the Xi'An Children's Welfare Institute, or orphanage. We had to endure another 45-minute drive to the outskirts of the city, but we had a new driver who seemed somewhat less aggressive, though he still had to deal with the non-stop circus outside our windows. I was very interested to see where Cooper had lived, and wished I had my camera to document it (Meghan loaned me hers instead). After thinking about it from all perspectives, I decided to leave Cooper in the lobby of the orphanage with Meghan while I took the tour of his rooms on the third floor. I just could not see any benefit to him by taking him back up there. I'm sure his teachers would have loved to see him again (as evidenced by the one lady who saw him in in the lobby and came running over, shouting out his Chinese name (XinYan) over and over again), but I figured seeing his old rooms and teachers again would either confuse him, make him want to stay, or make him fear that we were returning him (the latter of which my case worker had said sometimes happens). I was very curious to see where, exactly, my boy had come from.
Based on the meticulous level of detail they use in tracking their kids' progress (they gave me complete medical/vaccination information, photographs taken every 3-6 months, and even a report of the dates for each tooth eruption), I truly believe that the Chinese care deeply about their children, even in the macro, societal sense. But boy, this place was depressing. The overall sense of it was dark and dingy, with very little light and bare concrete floors in some places. Everywhere I looked, it was clear that they were running on a minimal budget. It almost made me cry when they took me in to see his crib, its light blue metal frame immersed in that image of 20-30 wooden, toyless cribs lined up rail to rail, giving me a cold, institutional feeling of a factory or something. They had very few lights on in the place, and flipped them on in the classroom just after we walked up (perhaps electricity in China is expensive; that would also explain the keycard requirement for power in the hotel rooms). The classroom was less impactful, looking much like an American daycare, but institutional and bare-bones nonetheless. Ten to twelve kids sat in the floor with three workers, most of them braving a wave hello to the most recent set of strangers in the window.
I was eager to speak with Cooper's "Gramma", the lady that took primary care of him the last two years in a group of three children (Cooper plus a boy and a girl). Of course, she could not speak English, but my guide Celine served as intermediary and we got into my questioning. In a flood of non-descript, rapid-fire Chinese sounds, I learned that his name, AnXinYan, was chosen like this: all the kids here are given the same surname of "An" to reflect the city; his first name, "Xin" (pronounced "sheen") means renewed, fresh, etc., to reflect that he has been given a new life after being found in a hospital, and "Yan" (pronounced "yawn") means literally "wild goose", which was the name of the police station where he was first reported (which, by the way, is the part of the name I am very glad I kept after seeing him bounce off the walls the other night before going to bed).
After the tour, I was stoic and couldn't figure out what I was feeling. The place depressed me, but I felt sort of guilty for feeling depressed. After all, these caregivers were doing the very best that they could do with the conditions they were given. Kudos to them for taking care of the next generation, knowing that none of their relationships with the kids are long-lasting or that they will ever be thanked by them. I promised Cooper's Gramma that I would send her periodic updates and pictures, and thanked her profusely for doing such a good job with my son, wondering all the while if the intensity of my gratitude would be able to cross the chasm of translation.
After returning to Meghan (and a crying Cooper after he saw me on the stairs), I told her about the place and she asked, "So do you still feel guilty about taking him out of here?" "No, not really", I replied, with a closed, half smile, hoping somehow, some way, all the other kids I had just seen would find a way out of there to a family of their own. I also felt much better about my mandatory donation to the orphanage, knowing that they needed so much more (after they were so excited when we gave them some pairs of shoes too small for Cooper, I decided to send them Cooper's clothes as he outgrows them).
FINAL ESCAPE
Friday was our travel day out of Xi'An. In the evening we were leaving for Guangzhou, where all the final processing is done for adoptions by American parents due to the presence of the American consulate there. This would be Cooper's very first time on an airplane, and be a good early indicator of the difficulty of the 14-hour flight we had in our near future.
That afternoon we toured the city wall, walking on top of it like you see people do on the Great Wall (or the castle wall of your choice). Just as we had seen at the Terra Cotta Warriors site, our "tour guide" (not our adoption guide) began as a history-telling guide and ended as a salesperson for the local souvenir shop. We've come to expect a sales pitch at every turn. This was our last event with Celine, so we made sure to get her dark-haired, Scooby-Doo Daphne likeness in a few photographs, along with me and my borrowed pink, flowered parasol/umbrella. Incidentally, did you know that in China they say "chez" instead of "cheese" to generate smiles for pictures? Better than saying "eggplant", I suppose (the meaning of "chez").
We got to the airport early, and I laughed when Meghan walked into a restroom and back out in no time, refusing to use the Chinese public toilets, ceramic holes in the floor with no seat. In the gate area, we had a blast talking with 6 school teachers from China, one an English teacher so we could communicate. She started the interaction by walking up and offering me pumpkin seeds and watermelon seeds, and I proceeded to ruin the international reputation of all American seed-eaters right there. Pumpkin seeds I could crack---after generous training, trials, and Chinese laughter---but hard, dried, thin, tough watermelon seeds? No way. That's a cost-to-benefit ratio I'm definitely not interested in.
Once on the airplane---which looked remarkably like a Southwest Airlines plane---Cooper didn't understand why he had to sit down, restrained by a seat belt, but he did OK on his first flight. He cried to get out of the restraint, but then settled down. I fed him dinner (every Chinese flight we've taken has served a meal so far), and he fell asleep. It was a good precursor for the marathon flight back to the States, as he didn't seem scared, didn't have any ear pressure problems, and didn't cry very long about having to sit.
SOMETHING'S....DIFFERENT
We landed in Guangzhou, found our new guide, "Jennifer", and boarded the van for the hotel. Without thinking about it, something seemed different here. Where was all the crazy traffic? Why are these roads so smooth? Why is our driver using turn signals? Slowly but immediately, Guangzhou began to revive us, with its brighter street lighting, its more orderly traffic, its newer and more frequent signage. The hotel was just as nice as the last one, with white marble floor and bellhops galore in the lobby. Jennifer told us of a place nearby called Lucy's Bar, "a restaurant the American families like" (noticeably not "a restaurant I like"), and we have already been there three times. Yes! Pizza and pasta and burgers and enchiladas and ice cream! We may survive this trip after all. Lucy's was a direct appeal to the Western adoption crowd, all the workers in blue jeans and red polo shirts, the menu full of American and Mexican food and drink, Hollywood photos and movie posters on every wall, and almost every table with a permanent baby chair.
This little area on Shamian Island is the funnel point for American Chinese adoptions, the White Swan Hotel nearby called "the baby hotel" by the locals due to all the adoption business. It's somewhat of a cottage industry here, with small mom and pop shops dedicated to selling American-oriented baby clothes and souvenirs.
The general impression of Guangzhou continued the next day: we woke to sunshine for the first time in a week, and were pleased with the cleanliness, professional atmosphere, and bright lights of the medical clinic we visited for Cooper's final exam to clear him through US immigration (he came in at 33 inches and 25 pounds). This was Lucy's clientele times 3 or 4, adoptive families seated everywhere, white clad nurses scurrying between them, and doctors set up in multiple stations for the exam (this very basic set of checks required four different examiners in different rooms). The level of activity was like an emergency room on a Summer Saturday night. I experienced my first empathetic pain when I held Cooper as he cried during his TB test. Seeing all these Chinese kids making their way to the US and other countries, of all different ages and sizes, made me think that international adoption is probably China's secret plan to infiltrate and someday take over the world. Haha.
The next day (Sunday) we took the city tour, and saw several old Chinese temples and other buildings (getting tired of ducking under low doorways and ceilings), with incredibly intricate carvings and weavings and architecture.
THE MIRACLE OF ATTACHMENT
I told you this was a long one! As father and son, I think Cooper and I are doing OK. This is my first time doing this so I have no reference point, but he seems attached to me and seems to be fairly content with how things are going so far (Dad sure is!). His personality comes out more all the time, and he seems to get feistier every day and is already giving me reason to be a proud daddy. His vocalizations have become more frequent, more loud, and more articulate, with some noticeable English sounds being made. He's known his new name for a few days now, and yesterday he said the words "food" and "book"! When walking down the sidewalk yesterday, I said, rhetorically, "give me your other hand"----and he did! Now, how did he know that? We think he's a bit of a clean freak, too, as he's picked up a plastic wrapper off the floor and handed it to me, put a pair of his shorts into his suitcase unprompted, and returned a water bottle to its place in his backpack (by the way, I'm calling them "sucky cups", since you don't really "sip" out of them). I decided to test the limits here and handed him a wadded up piece of paper and said "go throw it away" (in English, mind you!), without pointing, and he walked over to the trash can and tossed it in. Impossible, right? Anyway, now I'm afraid he's going to start thinking of Dad as a slob (he'll be telling me to clean MY room).
We also seem to have a small problem with reprimands. When he does something wrong, and I get stern with him, mustering all the body language and tough tone of voice I can (since I don't know his language), he laughs. He apparently thinks the whole "no!" thing is a big, funny joke. Meghan joked that the compliance and cooperation displayed the first few days was just a scheme to get me to sign all the papers. He's also inserted himself into the stroller when he's ready to go, handed me the shampoo when I'm taking too long in the bathtub, and tried feeding crackers to Queen Latifah on the TV. Anyway, I think he's attaching to me more every day, is adjusting to the new language quickly, and is coming out of the shellshock of having his world turned upside down last week.
SNAPSHOTS
I've always heard pregnant mothers say how they're losing their minds since they got pregnant. Well, I feel like there's now so much more to remember---especially where things are---and my scatter-brainedness was demonstrated today as I looked down and realized I had addressed the postcard to my mother to "Pepto Marquette". We had just been talking about giving Cooper some Pepto Bismol, of course.
Some more city sights: construction scaffolding made of bamboo & twine, women walking arm in arm all over the place, a highway sign reading "Do not drive tiredly", a guy packing away scrap re-bar on his back from some highway construction, and a highway vendor wearing one of those netted lumbar back supports on his head.
A hand-written sign in a retail shop for a toy that you can see with no light: "grow in the dark", hard evidence of the transposition of Ls an Rs in Chinese speech.
Rather than hacky sack, here we saw dozens of people playing "cheen toe", a similar kicking game but using a weighted, feathered projectile instead.
I could really use a drink with some ICE in it!
Scratching out a living in retail: each time we've gotten Cooper's picture taken, we've visited a little mom-and-pop store with a small, point-and-shoot camera, one of which had to dig his printer out and reconnect it to make some copies.
Just 5 more days,
Dave
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Day 4/5 - Cooper Day 2/3
[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."
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."
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Day 3 - First Meeting
Ni hao,
Yesterday was the big day, quite possibly the biggest in my life (yes, even beating out baseball's Opening Day). The word that keeps coming to mind, as Meghan and I ask how each other is feeling, is "surreal." It's almost like the whole thing is a dream, it's so foreign here and it feels so life-changing. "Am I really doing this?" "Is this really happening?"
A SLICE OF CHINESE CULTURE
After another short night of sleep (there was time to sleep but apparently no desire in this brain of mine), we were very glad to have an unscheduled morning. We tried out the hotel restaurant for breakfast, which softly played instrumental Christmas and wedding songs and had a good selection of international foods (boy, they have a lot of Chinese food here!), and then wandered around downtown Xi'An. It reminded me of New York's Times Square, with tons of shiny retail shops, huge advertisements, street vendors, bumper-to-bumper buses and (green) taxicabs, and people crowding the sidewalks. Police officers man the intersections---under blue Pepsi umbrellas---but judging from the madness of the traffic we're not sure they have any actual influence over things. The parasol is alive and well here, but in general I am struck by how very similar the average clothing is to American clothing. (I was afraid we would stick out in our American clothing, but while we do----for other reasons like my height and skin tone---clothing is not one, having seen blue jeans, T-shirts with "Puma" and other American brands, sneakers, etc.) One difference we did notice was that the women wear more floral-print dresses and many more high heels than we're used to seeing, even on the street or on 14-hour flight attendant shifts. Some of the men walk around with their T-shirts pulled up to their armpits due to the heat (it's much like Houston weather here), exposing their backs and bellies with no odd looks from anyone, and the "man-purse", a.k.a. Seinfeld's "European carry-all", is used by a sizable segment of the male population, the bag tucked tightly under their arm. The only American restaurants we've seen are two McDonald's and a KFC, though I was very excited to see (and purchase!) a green bottle of some soft drink with bright green and red Chinese characters on the label (yes, the magical elixir, Mountain Dew, is here). Finally, no matter where we go, from the upstairs grocery store to the hotel restaurant, there is an amazing abundance of employees standing around to help. In a single aisle at the grocery, there are FOUR employees hovering around to help, and three workers standing near our table at the restaurant. The street vendors also have this practice of offering unsolicited alternatives when they don't have what you want (e.g., I ask "Coca-Cola?" and they say "no" and point to orange Fanta. Huh?) Finally, you really get a sense of what illiteracy must be like when you don't know the language. Time and again, I picked up a package only to realize I couldn't read anything on it (how to dial a phone card, what brand formula is this, how long should these noodles boil, does this have sugar in it---all completely intelligible). With no understandable television except BBC, thank goodness for the Internet. It is about the only thing preventing me from feeling completely disconnected from my world.
MEETING MY SON
Now to the juicy part that you're probably more interested in. We were picked up by our guide/translator and driver at 2:45 PM for the trip to Civil Affairs, for what seemed like a very routine trip for them, something I could not say for myself. This was it, the day my life would change forever, I thought. We walked into a crowded office about the size of say, 3 or 4 elevators, and found a place to stand and await my son's arrival from the orphanage. There were three other families there for the same purpose, and two desks with Chinese officials handling paperwork. Suddenly, without further warning, formality, or any procedural overview, I was led over to my boy (gulp!) sitting on the lap of a Chinese lady (his "teacher"). He was handed to me, and I noticed he had tears in his eyes. In a moment, he burst into crying. He cried and cried and cried and wailed and cried, the kind of crying that makes you wonder if he can breathe through it all. I felt absolutely terrible. I could feel how incredibly scared he was, probably never having seen someone of my size or perhaps gender, not to mention already feeling weird being in a strange place without his playmates and toys. I was ready for this possibility, but it still felt like a very rough start and it just killed me inside (there's that guilt thing again). All I could do was hold him gently on my lap, occasionally holding my face against his and speaking softly, to let him feel my warmth and get used to the sound of my voice. (He was in no mood for the normal distractors like toys or food.) It felt very hard to comfort him, knowing that I was a complete stranger and the very source of his despair. After what seemed like forever but what was probably 15-20 minutes (all the while wondering if the officials were taking note of this apparent poor parent!), finally he stopped, and I handed him off to Meghan so I could process some paperwork.
FIRSTS AND OVERNIGHT
We got back to the hotel around 5 PM, and Cooper seemed to be settling down. With such an emotional day, we all decided to lay down "for a few minutes" before dinner---and we slept for 11 hours. I guess Meghan and I were catching up from the last few days of sleeplessness, while Cooper was catching up from a very exhausting day with unprecedented stimulation (first time in a grocery store, first time with us, first time in a hotel, etc.). Because all the cribs were in use by other adoptive families, we built our own makeshift crib out of a wall of pillows on one side of Cooper, with me serving as the other wall. I woke up around 3 AM, laid on my side next to my new son, and just watched him sleep for a long time. Amazing how these little ones can captivate you, even when they're not doing anything. And yes, I have become one of those quiet misers, like all new mothers, telling Meghan to be quiet after a sneeze, or telling her she better not wake him up as she opens that soda, haha.
This morning----which was a long one---I performed my first diaper change ("which end goes in front?"), my first bath, my first feeding, and generated my first laugh. After barely 24 hours of interaction, I'm happy to report that we have not had another cry, that he slept for 11 hours straight, that he is not a picky eater at all, that he is very compliant and even helpful in getting dressed or changing diapers, and that he even used the toilet once. Amazingly, he is already forming attachments to us, reaching out for my hands and clutching Meghan when she tries to break a hug. When we were having a good time with me feeding him, one of the waitresses walked over and asked me how long he had been my son, and was surprised when I told her "less than 24 hours". Of course, there are still so many things for me to learn, but so far, so good. He is such a good kid: cheerful, not resistant to bedtime or being changed or being held, etc. I even thought today that maybe the 14-hour flight back to the States won't be a disaster after all.
Well, that's way more than enough for now. We're being picked up in a few minutes to go back to the Civil Affairs Office again (third trip) for more paperwork (these guys diligently track everything about their kids, and require multiple copies, signatures, interviews, etc.).
Thanks for reading. I can't wait for all of you to meet him.
Yesterday was the big day, quite possibly the biggest in my life (yes, even beating out baseball's Opening Day). The word that keeps coming to mind, as Meghan and I ask how each other is feeling, is "surreal." It's almost like the whole thing is a dream, it's so foreign here and it feels so life-changing. "Am I really doing this?" "Is this really happening?"
A SLICE OF CHINESE CULTURE
After another short night of sleep (there was time to sleep but apparently no desire in this brain of mine), we were very glad to have an unscheduled morning. We tried out the hotel restaurant for breakfast, which softly played instrumental Christmas and wedding songs and had a good selection of international foods (boy, they have a lot of Chinese food here!), and then wandered around downtown Xi'An. It reminded me of New York's Times Square, with tons of shiny retail shops, huge advertisements, street vendors, bumper-to-bumper buses and (green) taxicabs, and people crowding the sidewalks. Police officers man the intersections---under blue Pepsi umbrellas---but judging from the madness of the traffic we're not sure they have any actual influence over things. The parasol is alive and well here, but in general I am struck by how very similar the average clothing is to American clothing. (I was afraid we would stick out in our American clothing, but while we do----for other reasons like my height and skin tone---clothing is not one, having seen blue jeans, T-shirts with "Puma" and other American brands, sneakers, etc.) One difference we did notice was that the women wear more floral-print dresses and many more high heels than we're used to seeing, even on the street or on 14-hour flight attendant shifts. Some of the men walk around with their T-shirts pulled up to their armpits due to the heat (it's much like Houston weather here), exposing their backs and bellies with no odd looks from anyone, and the "man-purse", a.k.a. Seinfeld's "European carry-all", is used by a sizable segment of the male population, the bag tucked tightly under their arm. The only American restaurants we've seen are two McDonald's and a KFC, though I was very excited to see (and purchase!) a green bottle of some soft drink with bright green and red Chinese characters on the label (yes, the magical elixir, Mountain Dew, is here). Finally, no matter where we go, from the upstairs grocery store to the hotel restaurant, there is an amazing abundance of employees standing around to help. In a single aisle at the grocery, there are FOUR employees hovering around to help, and three workers standing near our table at the restaurant. The street vendors also have this practice of offering unsolicited alternatives when they don't have what you want (e.g., I ask "Coca-Cola?" and they say "no" and point to orange Fanta. Huh?) Finally, you really get a sense of what illiteracy must be like when you don't know the language. Time and again, I picked up a package only to realize I couldn't read anything on it (how to dial a phone card, what brand formula is this, how long should these noodles boil, does this have sugar in it---all completely intelligible). With no understandable television except BBC, thank goodness for the Internet. It is about the only thing preventing me from feeling completely disconnected from my world.
MEETING MY SON
Now to the juicy part that you're probably more interested in. We were picked up by our guide/translator and driver at 2:45 PM for the trip to Civil Affairs, for what seemed like a very routine trip for them, something I could not say for myself. This was it, the day my life would change forever, I thought. We walked into a crowded office about the size of say, 3 or 4 elevators, and found a place to stand and await my son's arrival from the orphanage. There were three other families there for the same purpose, and two desks with Chinese officials handling paperwork. Suddenly, without further warning, formality, or any procedural overview, I was led over to my boy (gulp!) sitting on the lap of a Chinese lady (his "teacher"). He was handed to me, and I noticed he had tears in his eyes. In a moment, he burst into crying. He cried and cried and cried and wailed and cried, the kind of crying that makes you wonder if he can breathe through it all. I felt absolutely terrible. I could feel how incredibly scared he was, probably never having seen someone of my size or perhaps gender, not to mention already feeling weird being in a strange place without his playmates and toys. I was ready for this possibility, but it still felt like a very rough start and it just killed me inside (there's that guilt thing again). All I could do was hold him gently on my lap, occasionally holding my face against his and speaking softly, to let him feel my warmth and get used to the sound of my voice. (He was in no mood for the normal distractors like toys or food.) It felt very hard to comfort him, knowing that I was a complete stranger and the very source of his despair. After what seemed like forever but what was probably 15-20 minutes (all the while wondering if the officials were taking note of this apparent poor parent!), finally he stopped, and I handed him off to Meghan so I could process some paperwork.
FIRSTS AND OVERNIGHT
We got back to the hotel around 5 PM, and Cooper seemed to be settling down. With such an emotional day, we all decided to lay down "for a few minutes" before dinner---and we slept for 11 hours. I guess Meghan and I were catching up from the last few days of sleeplessness, while Cooper was catching up from a very exhausting day with unprecedented stimulation (first time in a grocery store, first time with us, first time in a hotel, etc.). Because all the cribs were in use by other adoptive families, we built our own makeshift crib out of a wall of pillows on one side of Cooper, with me serving as the other wall. I woke up around 3 AM, laid on my side next to my new son, and just watched him sleep for a long time. Amazing how these little ones can captivate you, even when they're not doing anything. And yes, I have become one of those quiet misers, like all new mothers, telling Meghan to be quiet after a sneeze, or telling her she better not wake him up as she opens that soda, haha.
This morning----which was a long one---I performed my first diaper change ("which end goes in front?"), my first bath, my first feeding, and generated my first laugh. After barely 24 hours of interaction, I'm happy to report that we have not had another cry, that he slept for 11 hours straight, that he is not a picky eater at all, that he is very compliant and even helpful in getting dressed or changing diapers, and that he even used the toilet once. Amazingly, he is already forming attachments to us, reaching out for my hands and clutching Meghan when she tries to break a hug. When we were having a good time with me feeding him, one of the waitresses walked over and asked me how long he had been my son, and was surprised when I told her "less than 24 hours". Of course, there are still so many things for me to learn, but so far, so good. He is such a good kid: cheerful, not resistant to bedtime or being changed or being held, etc. I even thought today that maybe the 14-hour flight back to the States won't be a disaster after all.
Well, that's way more than enough for now. We're being picked up in a few minutes to go back to the Civil Affairs Office again (third trip) for more paperwork (these guys diligently track everything about their kids, and require multiple copies, signatures, interviews, etc.).
Thanks for reading. I can't wait for all of you to meet him.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Day 2 - Arrival in China
We made it. After three flights and 31 hours of travel, we arrived at the hotel. And boy, what a nice one. Interestingly, all the hotel staff have American first names on their nametags, and a keycard is required to turn on the room's electrical power. The drive from the airport to the hotel was interesting, as well. It was a mass of moving people in cars and trucks and motorcycles, scooters, and bicycles (with not a helmet in sight and no seat belts in the van we rode in), many stretches of which had no lanes indicated. Many times we scraped by a cyclist or a pedestrian just inches away. It was Sunday night at 9:30 PM, but there were people everywhere.
This afternoon at 3 PM I pick up my new son (3 AM Monday your time) at the Civil Affairs Office in Xi'An City. I keep shifting emotionally between excitement and anxiety. Guilt also gets thrown in there sometimes when I look at this huge change from his perspective. I hope I am doing the right thing, but I know in my heart that I am.
This afternoon at 3 PM I pick up my new son (3 AM Monday your time) at the Civil Affairs Office in Xi'An City. I keep shifting emotionally between excitement and anxiety. Guilt also gets thrown in there sometimes when I look at this huge change from his perspective. I hope I am doing the right thing, but I know in my heart that I am.
Day 1 - The Flight Out
It has begun. I write to you from the Continental Airbus on the flight from Newark to Shanghai, with a mere 4 hours remaining in our flight. Meghan and I left the house at 3:30 AM to catch a 6 AM flight to Newark (out of IAH), after staying up packing until past 11 PM. As most of you know, there was an incredible number of things to pack for Cooper. How does the smallest person in the party warrant the largest bag (by far)? I am thankfully more myself at the moment, suddenly leaving behind some anxiety I felt earlier in the day, and remarkably not feeling the exhaustion I know is there under the surface, apparently masked by all the anticipation, curiosity, and excitement. Not only do I not know what to expect about raising a child, I don't know what to expect in China. My biggest international excursion to date was Canada. As for the exhaustion, it's amazing to me that I am not dead tired, after a two-day drive back from Colorado with Meghan (11 hours on the road each day) and my paltry sleep over the last 48 hours (4 hours each of the last two nights). Amazing what the mind can do to overrule the body.
To answer the several people who asked this, yes, we are flying over the pole to reach Shanghai. We're moving at 570 mph, with an outside temperature of -66 degrees F. Out the window, I was struck by how desolate the northern reaches of the continents are---for long stretches, there's not so much as a dirt road all the way to the horizon. The scene quells any concern I may have had about planet overpopulation and I decided that if aliens have landed on planet Earth in northern Canada or the Siberia, they would probably assume the place uninhabited.
As something I have never done before, packing for Cooper took me a long time. I sat in the floor with stacks of shirts, shorts, pants, socks and underwear laid out before me, holding my chin in my hand. Thanks to my two very generous showers, I have more than enough clothes for the 12-day trip. Unsure of his body size and uninterested in hauling every item halfway around the world, I elected to take mostly the 3T stuff, thinking that baggy clothes would be better than tight ones if I'm wrong. I threw in diapers and pull-ups and wipes and toys and books and food and medicine and voila!---my largest suitcase was completely full and, we discovered later, over the acceptable weight limit of 50 lbs. Meghan offered to carry the backpack inside so we could check the bag.
On a 14-hour flight, you wonder what you're going to do to pass the time. Sleep is the obvious choice, but again, that wasn't happening for me. As luck would have it, on this flight the entertainment system failed and could not be recovered despite many attempts by the crew (with assistance from technicians in Houston). So, no movies, no music, no games. Meghan and I are big readers, and I was glad we brought along books. By the way, how long is it going to take the airlines to install wireless Internet service? That would solve most of the boredom problem right there---at minimal cost.
To answer the several people who asked this, yes, we are flying over the pole to reach Shanghai. We're moving at 570 mph, with an outside temperature of -66 degrees F. Out the window, I was struck by how desolate the northern reaches of the continents are---for long stretches, there's not so much as a dirt road all the way to the horizon. The scene quells any concern I may have had about planet overpopulation and I decided that if aliens have landed on planet Earth in northern Canada or the Siberia, they would probably assume the place uninhabited.
As something I have never done before, packing for Cooper took me a long time. I sat in the floor with stacks of shirts, shorts, pants, socks and underwear laid out before me, holding my chin in my hand. Thanks to my two very generous showers, I have more than enough clothes for the 12-day trip. Unsure of his body size and uninterested in hauling every item halfway around the world, I elected to take mostly the 3T stuff, thinking that baggy clothes would be better than tight ones if I'm wrong. I threw in diapers and pull-ups and wipes and toys and books and food and medicine and voila!---my largest suitcase was completely full and, we discovered later, over the acceptable weight limit of 50 lbs. Meghan offered to carry the backpack inside so we could check the bag.
On a 14-hour flight, you wonder what you're going to do to pass the time. Sleep is the obvious choice, but again, that wasn't happening for me. As luck would have it, on this flight the entertainment system failed and could not be recovered despite many attempts by the crew (with assistance from technicians in Houston). So, no movies, no music, no games. Meghan and I are big readers, and I was glad we brought along books. By the way, how long is it going to take the airlines to install wireless Internet service? That would solve most of the boredom problem right there---at minimal cost.
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