So, we're home. Wow. What a wild summer we have had, Vanessa in tow the whole bit of it. It was an epic trip, deserving of an epic blog entry. Here it is [still under construction].
GETTING TO BEIJING
It seems like eons ago that we picked up the house, packed up the car and headed to San Francisco for an overnight with Granny. The next day at noon cousin Krista dropped us at the aeropuerto and we were off to Tokyo.
We arrived in Beijing and were immediately surrounded by smiling Chinese people who cooed and pawed at our little mop headed wonder child. They took photos. They spoke in hushed and excited tones about her. Little did we realize, in our sleep deprivation and concern for getting to our hotel, that Vanessa would prove to be a bit of a sensation our entire trip.
We paid way too much to have a mini van take us to our hotel, but, after the equivalent of an all-nighter, we felt it was a priceless ride to get to a bed. I think Daddio stood outside the aeropuerto with our pile of luggage, the mini van, a map of Beijing, our hotel information printed in English and Mandarin, a cell phone, and the taxi driver for 45 minutes, trying to figure out how to get us to the hotel. We landed at 9:30 p.m. Beijing time (6:30 a.m. California time), got to our hotel at 11 p.m. and into bed at midnight. The staff at our hotel were very busy with guests from around the world - Australia, Germany, China - so it took awhile and a lot of shouting at each other before we got to our room. In the middle of it all, they paused as a group to speak softly to each other, then one said, in English, "Your daughter is very lovely." They took some pictures.
I looked around our hotel, which is really a hostel, and thought, "What have I done to my mother in law?" It was slightly smelly and dark. We saw a man jumping through a window to get to his room - we think it didn't have a door. When the staff let us into our rooms - we had our own rooms with bathrooms and a shower - they asked it if was suitable. The room smelled of sour cabbage and there were tiny dead flies on one of the beds. The air conditioning I was so careful to ensure we'd have did not work. I wanted to run screaming to the nearest Holiday Inn, but, before I responded, Daddio said, "It's great. Thanks." As usual, Mary the budget travel maven felt she could not stay at the place she booked. "The price is right. We're staying," Daddio said. I obeyed. The shower was a hand-held shower wand attached to the tiled wall by the toilet - the whole bathroom served as a shower stall with a drain in the middle of the floor and no curtain. The beds were hard, like box springs (but I liked that).
So, it's midnight and we've flown across the country with a squirming, kicking, screeching little dervish of a toddler, and we've not had sleep for way too many hours. But guess who has gotten in quite a goodly nap? Yes, Vanessa was ready to party when we turned off our lights. She sang and cried and wiggled all over as I lay there in the dark, unable to lift an eyelid. After an hour of this I said in the dark to Daddio, "This is like a nightmare." We started to giggle then couldn't stop laughing. Why did we think we could bring a 20 month old to the Orient?
The next day, our first day in Beijing, I was awake at 3 a.m.. Jack got up by 4:30 a.m. and we headed out at 5:30 a.m. to hunt down some breakfast. It was Saturday morning, but the people of Beijing are industrious, early morning risers, so we were not alone.
Then, with what I now believe is divine intervention, it occurred to me that the American KFC on the corner of our block might serve American coffee. We were the first ones in when they opened the door at 7:00 a.m. and not only did they serve coffee, they served orange juice and had an indoor kiddie slide. Woo hoo! I ordered six coffees (two Styrofoam cups each) three juices and a milk. The milk came hot and sweetened with honey. Best Ever. We ate our grilled egg biscuits in KFC and watched Vanessa play.
So there it was, we stuck to this breakfast regime for the rest of the week. God is good.
Jack was pretty anxious to see his Olympic athlete, so that first full day he made arrangements to meet Sharon at the Athlete's village, then go to the designated practice track for a high jump practice. Granny and I manned Vanessa. We walked all over our neighborhood trying to decipher the public transportation options. People started commenting on Vanessa, even stopping us, and of course taking photos.
I asked a woman for some directions with our map and it turned out that she was a student at the college where Jack needed to meet Sharon. She was very helpful and was studying English at school. She was able to translate what some of the people were saying to us about Vanessa. Most said she was lovely or beautiful, many even said perfect. Several people offered Van gifts. One woman wanted us to know, through our translator, that she felt very lucky to have seen Vanessa and was sorry she hadn't brought a gift. She was suggesting it was like a spiritual event to see such a child. When I heard this I thought maybe I didn't totally understand. "Thank you, that's very kind," I said. Everyone was very friendly and we felt completely safe and welcome there, even in a real, working neighborhood. Our translator suggested we take a taxi, so we did.
We shared a taxi - Granny, Vanessa and I got off at the zoo for a leisurely couple hours and Daddio continued on to see Sharon. Um, the roads are crazy in Beijing. Crazy. Cars, taxis, bicycles, pedestrians, buses and trucks all share the road in what we felt was both dangerous and beautiful synchronization. In fact, after a few days of sheer fear as passengers, we learned to view the total disregard of Western traffic laws as rather philosophical. Lane lines, traffic lights, stop signs... all seemed to be merely decoration as the people of Beijing shared the road any way they saw fit. It might be a Civil Libertarian's driving dream come true, but we thought the root of the Beijing traffic scene was people having great trust in each other to behave in a predictable way. We saw people on bicycles crossing diagonally through busy intersections when the light was red. No one died. Well, Jack, the poor, self-preserving Westerner, did get hit by a bicycle when he was running along the sidewalk, but he was not part of the predictable system, was he? Anyway, we shared that first taxi and Vanessa nursed without being hampered by a car seat or seat belt, and fell asleep in my arms before we got to the zoo.
We got out, Daddio drove off, Granny got tickets, and I carried our sleeping Banana into the zoo. The front gate person directed us to the service center to what we thought was a couch to sit on while Nanners napped. When we got there we found a baby crib, so I laid our wee jet lagged traveler down and I'll be darned if she didn't have a 3 hour nap - the first time she's ever slept in a crib!
about getting to sit in air conditioning for so long. When Vanessa woke, though, we were all hungry, so we set off through the zoo in search of Chinese food. Our first real adventure began.You see, we had not brought the stroller this day because Van doesn't usually sit in the stroller. Without Jack around, I brought the baby carrier and the monkey leash, thinking Vanessa would either walk or insist on me carrying her. Well, the little darling refused to go into the carrier and refused to walk, so my worst fears were confirmed and I had to strong arm carry all 30 lbs. of her through the zoo. It might not
have been so bad if she had held still, or if it wasn't 90 degrees and 90% humidity, or if I were well rested, well hydrated or even fed. But no. It might not have been bad if it had been a short walk to the lunch place. We walked miles. And nothing could have prepared us for the mob scene we experienced with Chinese people flocking to see, touch, photograph and beg to hold Vanessa. It was like traveling with the Beatles.We walked so far, trying in vain to read our maps and get to where we thought the authentic Chinese food was (as opposed to the American food, which was a hot dog stand), I was near a nervous breakdown. When we got there, we had no idea what we were ordering. Poor Granny had to get our food ordered, paid for, and back to our table while I wrangled Vanessa and attempted to shield her from the adoring crowds.
We stopped for a Hello Kitty balloon for Vanessa at one point and 30 people stopped with us to shoot the event and get their kids or themselves in for a pose or two. Thank God Granny was there to keep me calm. We stopped to rest on a park bench and finally I allowed Vanessa to run free with some of the Chinese kids, which she loved. In fact, she loved pretty much all the attention she got, save maybe when a stranger tried to grab her out of my arms.
At 3 p.m., as planned, Jack and Sharon arrived at our hotel. They were well rested, well fed, and pretty chill, really. They had been getting the royal treatment at the Athlete's Village, eating good American food or good Chinese food - they had it all there - and hydrating so much they had bottles of water to spare. No one had mobbed them for photographs. They were a welcome sight.
With them as reinforcement, Granny and I agreed to pick ourselves up off our beds and venture out again. We went to the Pearl Market, one of the famed shopping spots in Beijing. Vanessa was very popular with the salespeople there, but I let Daddio take her around. I had a fabulous video of our taxi ride there, with Sharon in the background, describing what it was like being an athlete during the opening ceremonies, but I inadvertently deleted the whole day's pictures.
I fell asleep at 7 p.m. It had been a very big first day in Beijing.
Okay, don't worry: all of our days were not as eventful as the first. Let's just say, we were hit the ground running, having a fun, rich experience, and Vanessa was both popular and surprisingly adaptable to all the change and attention. Still, I wondered what the heck we were thinking, because it was hard having a toddler there.
Sunday morning, I awoke at 3:30 a.m. so I got up to type out some travel journal notes. Daddio said the typing noise was keeping him awake, so I relocated to our sour-cabbage-smelling bathroom/shower, which had a lake of standing water over the floor. I sat on the toilet lid. I broke it - split it up the middle because it was made of thin plastic. Later that morning, after we were both up and had our breakfast biscuits and KFC coffees, we broke the toilet the "other" way, and plunging didn't help. In fact, plunging made things worse and stuff splashed out and onto our floor, getting into the big drain at the center of the floor. Just so you know, in case you were wondering, when it's 90 degrees and 90% humidity and you are walking 4 miles per day, you tend to want to shower. Oh, did I mention the water in China has been known to cause illness? So showering in cold water is a weird experience of heat relief mixed with bacteria fear. Anyway, adding fresh, raw sewage to the equation was quite nearly all I could take. I walked down the street to the South Garden Hotel, praying we could move to this 5 star hotel, found out its rates were still $550/night during the Olympics, and once again submitted to Daddio's command to stay put.
We grouped together and decided it was as good a day as any to start hitting the major attractions we wanted to be sure to see whilst in China. We hired a taxi to go to the Great Wall. The driver did not recognize English for "Great Wall" so I confidently stepped in to draw him a picture. He was not impressed, nor did he understand my sketch. In the end, a person on the sidewalk waiting for a bus had to help translate.
Daddio and I had seen a travel video on the Great Wall before our Beijing trip, and I recall that they warned that it was crowded and steep. Nothing prepared me for just how crowded and just how steep the Great Wall was. I think 300 people jammed shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip made their way to a doorway big enough for a 5' 6" soldier to slip through to get onto the Wall. Not for the claustrophobic. When we got onto the Wall, 81 year old Granny shot her two arms to the heavens and announced, "I walked the Great Wall!" She promptly sat down and said, "You go on: I'll wait here."
Daddio wore Vanessa the Superstar on his chest and I wore our two cameras. He handled the crowds who were clearly as excited to see Vanessa as they were to see one of the world's man-made wonders. When I wasn't frightened out of my mind that I'd slip and fall down the stone pathway on my slippery walking sandals I took pictures. For those of you who don't know, Auntie Anne and I share the same fears and nightmares: we are afraid not of heights but of steep ascents, so we have dreams of driving up roads that are like driving up the face of a drawn draw bridge. On the Great Wall, with the crowds of Van fans, Daddio would shout out to me, "Let me take your hand! It's not so bad," to which I'd shoot back, eyes locked on the ground in front of me, "Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" as I imagined one slip of my shoe would result in my taking out hundreds of unsuspecting Chinese tourists on the slope behind me, head injuries galore.
Daddio stopped for many photo op's with VanNanna, while I clung to the hand rails, sweat buckets of nervousness, and wondered with irritation why no one else was as terrified and acting accordingly. Even so, I did agree to pause with my husband and child while someone else ran our camera and got a Christmas card shot of us smiling, with the Great Wall in the background. This photo, like the ones of the previous day, was lost. Oh well.
We did get to some more level spots on the wall, and I was able to stop fearing for my life. The crowds around Vanessa were surreal. Jack finally stopped to rest against the Wall and allowed whomever wanted to stop to crowd in for pictures with the cherubic white child. Again, I had some amazing video clips of this, now lost. We did bump into some Tibetans dressed traditionally (photo lost), and a Tibetan lama with his pupil. The lama was fascinated with Vanessa, came over to touch her arms and her hair, but could not speak English.
There is a giant water slide at this location, which would surely enrage Mr. Genghis Khan, but we opted to get back on the tram for our descent. By the time we got back to the base and into a new taxi, we had surely walked 4 miles.
That night we went to the Silk Market. Um, many of you know me to be an avid and tireless shopper, especially if it involves a hunt and a screaming deal. However, let it be known, shopping in Beijing is not for the fainthearted, nor for the exhausted, dehydrated, jet lagged mama. Each small stall you encounter in the 7 story building had a person springing out at you, saying, "You need a bag? How about a bag? You need a coat? How 'bout some shoes? Lady? Lady? Please look here." And, if you did pause for a millisecond to consider looking, they'd pounce on you, saying, "What color, this color? What size? Is this for you? How 'bout this? How 'bout that?" It was hard to determine if you wanted something, or if it was the right size - all the clothing was teeny tiny - and then, when you thought you'd like to purchase something, you had to spend 15-20 minutes negoiating the price. If you wanted to purchase two items, well, forget it. There just wasn't enough time.
I will say, though, when I was shopping and Daddio would breeze by with Vanessa and her pack of admirers, the sales people would say, "Is that your daughter? She is lovely. She is perfect." I feel certain we were regarded a little differently when they knew we were associated with such a baby. As if her pefection was somehow a reflection of us. As if.
We headed off to the Snack Market for some weird Chinese food on a stick. Jack ate snake. Ernie ate melon. I ate corn. Everyone took pictures of Vanessa. One woman told us, through her friend, who spoke some English, "Your baby looks like Angela (an angel). She is perfect, like the baby Jesus." That pretty much is my favorite compliment ever.
Now I should mention that VH1 was in the middle of cutting 4 new molars, and she had picked up a nasty cough that I nicknamed "TB." Her lungs were so full of junk they rattled like maracas with every breath. She got the bug at daycare at Mt. Hermon, just before we left on this trip. Daddio started his cough the night we got to Granny's, just in time for our big trip to China. That night, Vanessa was restless and had trouble breathing easy. She rolled out of our bed three times. I had to put pillows and bedding around after that.

Daddio and I are having some trouble piecing our travels together chronologically. We believe this is the day we went to Tiananmen Square, found it giant, hot, and paved without benches to sit. Vanessa was mobbed, people were very friendly, but the weather was scorching hot so Granny and I voted to move our party out of the blazing sun. She bought a parasol for $1 USD.
What we learned was that you need a ticket to an event in order to even get into the complex. Imagine downtown Portland, paved, with 3 giant sports venues spaced quite a bit apart from each other, and a tall fence around the whole thing. We got the distinct impression that Beijing officials hoped to build a massive, long lasting complex that would rival the Forbidden City in terms of size, grandeur, and structural longevity. Ernestine was so pooped I feared she might lie right down on the sidewalk for a rest.
Before we all collapsed, we found the Spectators' Entrance, but of course we didn't have tickets, so we never got in. We did not make the taping of the Today Show, and realized we never would. Daddio had become slightly stressed during all this, wondering, perhaps, if he'd ever find his way into the Bird Nest for Sharon's competition, but, in the end, we felt this had been a good time to work out the kinks and learn how to tell a taxi driver where to let us off.
DAY 4 - TUESDAY
I woke up sick. Daddio's cough had subsided, but in an unusal twist of fate, I had developed the deep cough we called "TB." No runny nose, sore throat, or even chest congestion, it lived in the depths of my abdomen. This was a twist of fate because Daddio is prone to chest colds but not me. He normally has a cold for 3 weeks, while mine last more like 3 days. I felt like I had he flu, and I had mastitis to boot. Ow.
We exited the Forbidden City at Tiananmen Square. Zillions of people were there to greet us, I mean were there sightseeing. Vanessa collected two Chinese flags as gifts. See her here:




We were all physically and emotionally pooped out, so, when the morning's events ended, we left the stadium. The rains had let up, so we thought we'd explore the other venues at Olympic Park. Too bad we were so tired and everything was miles apart. We did see a McDonald's at the new subway station and had fantasies of coffee - something we hadn't had yet that day. But when we saw the 100 meter-long line to order, we turned and headed out. Now I understand why Americans might flock to fast food joints in foreign countries, and why, perhaps, foriegners think American food = fast food. We are all just a bunch of desperate, misunderstood caffiene adddicts, I suspect.
We slept from noon to 5 p.m. then got up and headed out to rendez-vous with my cousin Maureen, who happened to be town, visiting from Boston. We met at a laundro-mat. After seeing her, we stopped by and saw "Auntie" Sandi and "Uncle" Jim because we were in the neighborhood. They cracked up that we'd stop by to visit them at 9 p.m. Sunday night. When we got home we all fell asleep. Granny was already 100% unpacked from her trip.





Mary, I so enjoyed reading about your China adventure, as always delightfully told. I showed the rock star photos of Vanessa to Matt (now 17), who went to Beijing and Shanghai in April with his Chinese class. He'd told me then that one of the teachers attracted quite a bit of attention as he is very tall...but nothing like your little strawberry blonde cupcake!
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Jennifer - thanks for reading! How cool Matt got to go to Beijing and Shanghai with his class. Boy, school has changed! Maybe Vanessa will learn Mandarin too.
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