Photo descriptions, part 3, and other goings on

Before I get to the last installment of photo descriptions, I have some news: we have a cleaning lady.

It's weird. It's inexpensive. It's gaudy. It's fabulous.

As odd as it felt to have someone sloshing through my house with a bucket and 3 rags, it felt nice to have some time to relax with HD without thinking about how late I'd be up cleaning that night. This city is just too damn dirty. We're used to Portland, our lovely clean-every-2-weeks-and-you're-good city. But here - 3 to 4 days and your house needs an overhaul. It's impossible to keep up with, what with 2 kids we like to hand with, grad school (not me this time!), never-ending planning, cooking, laundry, etc., etc.

So there it is. A cleaning lady. Once a week. Cool.

And now for the moment you've not been waiting for...more photos! I'm going to keep it short(er). In case you have yet to open the photos in another window, here's where they are.

Last time, I left off discussing Christmas lights, and Christmas lights they have. Though here, I would rather call them winter decorations. They are up from December through February, for Chinese New Year. Though, many more are usually added in the weeks leading up to the New Year. The picture here with the trees shows the extent to which things are decorated. It's not uncommon to happen upon entire courtyards filled with trees like these.

Speaking of trees, those are trees in the truck, and in the next shot, trees being put in with the help of a crane. I've been told that the trees are sold by landowners to middle men. The middle men sell to the government. The government "plants" them, attaches an IV of nutrients, and replaces it 2-5 years later when it dies. Nice cycle. I'd love to go into detail about how this is so wrong, but I promised short. Maybe another time.

Everything is carried on shoulders or backs, except children, who are just carried in arms.

A Chongqing street sweeper. Though unconfirmed, my colleagues and I hypothesize that the large number of people here sweeping roads and sidewalks is a way to employ the 10 million people who have moved here in the past decade. With all the resettlement from the Three Gorges Dam(n), Chongqing suddenly had millions of farmers in a city with no jobs or skills. Thus, street sweepers. I must say, they are good. We traveled to Chengdu, another Southwestern town, and PB falling to her knees caused 5 pants changes in 2 days. Street sweepers? Nope.

Hot pot, the local delicacy. A bubbling bowl of broth, oil, chili oil, and sichuan peppercorns, with meats and veggies for dipping. It's the Sichuan fondue. Pull out your steaming lotus root (picture 2), dip in sesame oil with soy sauce and garlic, and enjoy with beer. I could eat this every day.

China toilets are horrible, disgusting, porcelain holes in the ground. We fondly refer to them as squat pots. I loathe these things. This one was at the restaurant where we had hot pot. It was a bonus having the red rubber mat, however. It minimize the slip-factor from the spray.

The last few photos are from a park near our house with an unmoving lake, complete with floating trash. There is an obelisk resembling the Washington monument at end, and a partial Roman amphitheatre at the other. In between, lots and lots of bird poop.

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There it is - mountains of words to follow a simple photo essay. Thanks for sticking around.

Photo descriptions, part 2

I just realized how many photos need describing in two more posts. Oye.

Okay. Part 2 of putting words to these.

Let's begin with the yellow scaffolding. That was also early into our adventure here. There seems to be less scaffolding around to walk under, though it still surrounds every other building in town. In this photo, the guy nailing something into the 'ceiling' is not standing on a ladder. No, that is too sensible. He is standing on a saw horse, and a tall one at that. We have marveled at the attire of the construction workers here, especially footwear - regular canvas shoes. Though seeing what they must balance on while working, well, I'd rather be in canvas shoes than thick soled boots too.

Since I'm on the topic of construction, in China, the equality of the sexes extends to jobs typically held by men in the States. You see women digging ditches, hauling, well, anything, and chiseling concrete off of rebar right next to her male coworker. I sway between pride in seeing women do hard labor here, and sadness in that they do the hard labor because it's the available job. I'm fortunate to be in a position to choose my type of employment. Man, those women are tough.

Longfor is the development and management company that built, and runs, our compound (neighborhood). We have a nice green space in the middle with some huge rocks good for jumping off of, and a porch swing for enjoying the sights. As you approach the grassy area, the blue sign in the picture is shown. I love the graphics: no bikes + no scooters + no dogs + no soccer = no fun. Admire please, do not play. I should have it translated soon. I really want to know what message requires an exclamation mark.

Next down is one of my favorite hubby-taken photos ever. These are two of the groundskeepers at a large "Sports Park" near us. The emotion on their faces is extreme around these parts. I love it.

After the park: the view from below.

In the hazy picture of buildings half-built are 8 cranes. These are HUGE cranes. Each new building gets its own crane (sometimes two in the beginning stages). The crane stays with it till the end, growing with the structure until no longer needed. I have never seen so many cranes in my life. And here, also, is the ever-present scaffolding I mentioned earlier. The scaffolding on the buildings is wrapped in green mesh plastic.

But back to the cranes, some days on my way to work I try to count the cranes from the highway. Our school is in an area being developed for research and IT firms and they're building like crazy. One day I counted 31 cranes in about a mile stretch of road. That's 31 buildings! More recently, the number has grown to over 50 and we drive too fast for me to count them all. 50+. High rises. It blows my mind.

Two more pictures down is yet another scaffolded building. I know, you get it. But this one is notable for what the men on the scaffolding are doing: passing granite slabs from one to another up the scaffolding to put on the side of the building. Take a look at the size of those pieces - almost as tall as the men! That's what we use cranes for in the States. It really is 'hard' labor.

Santa has made it to China and is everywhere. However, the face of Santa is pretty much what you see in what hubby calls, "Demon Santa". This is the spray painted version of good 'ole Saint Nick. He also exists in paper, small, medium, or large. He shines. He sparkles. And he's up through February. It's like the annoying neighbor who keeps the Christmas lights until Easter (sorry to all the lights lovers who keep their Christmas lights until Easter).

One more?

Too tired. I'll pick up at the tree lights next time.

Part 3 coming soon...

Photo descriptions, part 1

I have found something to write about - all those pictures I just posted! (see previous post) I find pictures much more exciting when the background information is with them. Instead, I'm going to make you look back and forth a bit. Sorry, but some of the stories are worth it.

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The first picture was taken just a few days after we arrived in Chongqing. The girls and I are sitting in the fabulously huge window seat in their bedroom. As you can see, there is a splendid view of the apartments next door which are housed above our grocery store. I forgot they were that colorful. Colors tend to fade here pretty fast.

Next, also taken in those first days, shows another view from 11 floors above the city, this time looking out over 龙湖 (Dragon Lake). Behind the orange-ish buildings is the lake. Our building is considered old for Chongqing (15 years!), with the average life-expectancy of buildings hovering around 20 years. What is crazy about this view, however, is the knowledge that nothing across the lake existed 10 years ago. It was beautiful green forest and farms. That's what adding 10 million people in 10 years does to a place.

The motorcycle picture is notable for two reasons: the number of people on it, and the helmet resting between the legs of the driver. It is very common to see more than 2 people aboard a bike. Many riders work as taxis, though I haven't found out how much they charge yet. The most striking sight, though, is a passenger with a baby. They will have one arm on the driver, the other holding a baby. And I mean little babies. Kids too.
And even though the refusal to wear the extra helmet in this picture rankles me, many people do wear helmets. I have been informed that this is a new development in Chongqing, with helmets seen only in the last year or so.

To end part 1, I would like to draw your attention to the 6th picture down. This seeming random destruction is random, and very much, destruction. Many structures are labeled with the 'demolish' mark (拆), but they may be torn down while others around them stand firm. New developments are evidenced by long rows of buildings branded 拆. But as in this photo, sometimes it's as I said, random.

Chongqing photo essay

I just realized I have put few pictures of this crazy place on here. So rather than bore you with my banter today, please enjoy Chongqing, in all its splendor!

Look what I can do!

你 好 吗？我 很 好。 我 叫 Abby。 你 叫 什么？我 是 老师。 你 从 哪 儿 来？ 我 来 自 美 国。我 是 美国 人。 再 见。

(How are you? I am very well. My name is Abby. What is your name? I am a teacher. Where are you from? I am from America. I am American. Good bye.)

And I can say it too!

One down, three to go

So that resolution thing? A bust. Well, not a total bust. But the writing everyday has lost its flair, as was inevitable. I missed a day on purpose, and yesterday, in a flurry of children, Chinese lessons, and oh-sh*t-I-have-to-teach-something-tomorrow planning, the blog was again left silent.

Do not fear loyal readers! This does not mean an end to regular updates of the life that warrants the name "mad momma". However, this will probably be toned down a bit. Now that I have granted myself permission to abandon the writing every day thing, I don't think I will be writing every day. Wasn't that profound.

In other news from the front: we had snow yesterday, with frigid for Chongqing temperatures. Chongqing is dubbed one of the 3 furnaces of China with good reason. Call it global warming, climate change, or El Nino (though that doesn't really hit us here), or whatever else, but we have had our share of odd weather so far this winter. It's like all the snow I heard about in Georgia, minus the accumulation part, but weird, nonetheless.

For us to see snow was wild. Most of our students have grown up in Taiwan and Chongqing have never seen snow and it was fun to see their reaction to it. And mine - I stopped mid-sentence and rushed to the window to confirm it.

No snow days coming. Probably not even a late start for crappy roads. Maybe some more flakes to frolic in, though.

That would be cool.

And good for resolution #1 to get off my duff and get moving. Right...

Stream of consciousness

I know, I know - I missed a day. Well, we went to a huge expat party, ate, drank, were merry, and came home late with the kids. I decided, everyone needs a day off. I considered doing two posts today to make up for it but this is my blog and I reserve the right to change the rules as I please.

So resolutions are good. And this resolution is going very well (aside from the paragraph above). I enjoy it. I spout my mouth about all things uninteresting and random and you poor people read it. It's not the next great American novel, but it's something. At least I'm writing. But the writing doesn't feel, um, to have a point. I sit here feeling uninspired and frankly, a bit tired. Yet I've challenged myself to write every day. To the world. Something worth reading. From my brain.

I read once that if you want to be a writer you must write every day. Hone your skills. Get something out and feel it, read it, leave it, make it better. All writers, big and small, write EVERY DAY. But what is this writing they do? Is it junk like I put here? Is it musing over a new chapter in a novel for an hour? What exactly am I supposed to be writing?

I guess I should start with my goal. Writing, I said, would be an outlet for me to relieve stress so that I may be sane for those with whom I share space. Ultimately, however, I would like to write a book. And I fear that I will write a nonfiction book, not that there's anything wrong with that. But being the avid fiction reader I am, I've always wanted to write a novel. A novel you can't put down by page 2. A novel that brings the emotion out of the reader's mind and onto their face. A novel that has my name on it and sells more than 10 copies to friends and family.

So how do you write a novel? What kind of writing should I be doing every day? Do I need an idea fir....

You know, this sounds like I should be taking a class or something. 'Cause I have time for that.

Or do I?

Chinese mothers

A bit ago I wrote this about parents in China having babies and handing them over to be raised by grandparents. Of course, since going on my diatribe, I have have seen more parents with their kids than grandparents with grand kids. I even saw a lady make her gambling partners wait for her to get her baby latched on before the next hand was dealt in an illegal roadside game.

But just when I thought I'd got over my crazy labeling of Chinese parenting, someone else did it. In case you missed this one, you must read "Why Chinese Mothers are Superior".
I haven't figured out how to respond to this yet. I think I need to read it again, though I alternated between chills and nausea and anger while reading it.

Not for me, I suppose.

Bedtime

Yawn.

I'm at a complete loss tonight. Nothing seems good enough to write about. Decent day at school with a good lab field trip. Chill night at home with no work to do because I forgot all the papers that need grading.

There are pictures I would like to share, but the energy to get the camera, upload them, and wait for my incredibly slow internet to get them here, eludes me.

Coca-cola is not a good substitute for midday coffee. My brain shut down. At 5 pm.

Early night tonight, folks. See you tomorrow.

How do you spell 'atrocious'?

Does spell-check help or hurt kids? Do they really need to know how to spell anyway if most of their work is done on computers? How important is it? Should spell-check be disabled on school computers so kids have to proof-read and use a dictionary to check spelling?

I will now never forget how to spell 'reminiscent' because I went through 2 different spellings and a conversation in trying to find the correct one. Then I used spell-check (should that be hyphenated?).

Teachers are taught to let their students make mistakes - and don't catch them! Let them fall and figure out how to get back up. The best learning happens when a person makes a mistake and has to find where they went wrong. Just being told the right answer (spell-check) doesn't require any thinking.

I would like to disable spell check at my school. I think it hurts the kids. Especially as they move into the higher grades with more difficult vocabulary.

But would allowing spell-check encourage them to use bigger, harder, awesomer (spell-check doesn't like this one) words if they don't have to be able to spell it?

What a quandary. (that's a good one!)

Spelling tests in high school? How much should spelling count with computers everywhere?

Then there's math. We have calculators and computers that can do all sorts of math. Yet we keep teaching how to do the math by hand, to the great frustration of students. Why should you know how to add 223 and 4738436 if you can just put it in a calculator?

Typewriters. That's what I'll do. Find some old typewriters, not the electric ones with the delete capability, but really old school typewriters. Have kids type a paper on those and see the mistakes they make. When you can't delete, spell- and grammar-check, and go back and change things whenever you want, just think about what that would look like. It would completely change how you type. And maybe it would change how students think when they write. Because that's what I'm here for, anyway. My goal is not to teach these kids how to graph quadratic functions or determine the acceleration of a plane during lift-off (though, if they do learn those things it would be cool). No, my goal is to teach the kids how to think. How to reason. How to solve problems they've never seen before.

And how can you do that if the computer always solves the problem for them?

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By the way, this post has no spelling errors (with the exception of 'awesomer', but really that should be added to the dictionary anyway)! Thanks ABC*check*!

Resolution Update 1

So far, so good.

I crocheted tonight (no work!) while watching Wall Street.

I've done a blog every day.

I hope my cold is better by Thursday to begin my exercise regimen.

And reading is going well. I'm reading about Buddhism and it's appealing to my, well, should I say, spiritual side. Or what sort of a spiritual side I have. I am not religious. I am not an atheist. But what if? Buddhism's concern for others as the path to enlightenment is pretty appealing. However, the supernatural stuff is still a bit hard for me. The book is a 'history of' type and I have yet to read about lay practice. How I feel about the Buddhist path after reading that, well, we'll see. The path to true enlightenment, to nirvana, to Buddhahood, is paved with selflessness, but how that tranlates to blo-Joe Buddhist is still a mystery.

Final thoughts for the night are recent notes from a big kid: "Mommy, get off the bus. It's time to go." "Your teeth are big."

And my favorite, when asked how she likes her new classmate -

HD: I cut his legs.

Me: What did you cut them with?

HD: A knife.

Me: Where did you get the knife?

HD: At school.

Me: In your class?

HD: Yeah.

Me: What color is the knife? (trying to find out if the knife is real)

Pause.

HD: (whispers) I can't tell you that.

Lost in translation

There's a store here called Metro. It's kind of like a Sam's Club or Costco - bulk-buy discounts with inexpensive membership. This is a favorite of expats for many reasons. First, there's a large imported section with things directly from home like, refried beans, spices, spaghetti sauce, CHEESE, and inexpensive wine. There are also just a lot of good deals. Well, sometimes. But the funnest part of going through a store known to cater even a little to expats is reading the translations on the packages. Tonight's thrill was in the bath stuffs aisle. I was looking at razors and happened to glance down to a giant bag of cotton balls. All the writing was in Chinese except for this:

Tampons.

Well, I guess you could use them for that.

Happy 100!

This is my 100th post! Woo-hoo! I made it!

I'm very impressed with myself for sticking with this thing for so long. Through grad school, my first year teaching, and moving to China, I wouldn't've thought this would still exist.

However, I've been thinking about purging lately. Does deleting long ago posts violate blogging ethics? I've matured since beginning this over a year-and-a-half ago. Reading my history can be embarrassing.

Well, if I'm going to bare my brain to the world it's got to be all of it. Including posts like this one that just feel like filler because I have a goal to reach.

But if you're interested, here's my list of highlights from the past 99 posts, in reverse chronological order:

Morning messages
I pooped in the potty!
Random thoughts this week
I've been tagged!
For the record I'm 5'7"

And finally, what 100 posts looks like:

Dirty balloons

 Before moving, we read a lot of books about China and living in China. There are a few things that have remained with me, maybe because I notice them daily. One is the filth. In the more well-known cities like Beijing and Shanghai, air pollution standards have begun to make the cities cleaner. These standards have not had as much of an effect on Chongqing. Long a factory river town, Chongqing is not known for having clean air. In fact, Chongqing is known for having air so bad it is as if you smoke. We did find this to be partially true, especially when arriving in 104-degree heat and humidity in August. However, I didn't really get it until it stopped raining.

Here is Chongqing when it rains (green part), and when it doesn't rain (gray part).















It's depressing to see so much gray where there should be color.

The other thing mentioned in all the books was the fanatical kid stuff all over. There are amusement park rides in the recreation park, complete with a train, carosel, and spinny-flying bug thing. Also, there are giant indoor play areas in all the big malls. Ball pits, jumpy areas, things to crawl under, over, through, and build, all in a great padded, colorful, kids music extravaganza.

Then there are the balloons. Walk anywhere and will find a balloon lady with 30 balloons of all sort for sale, 5 yuan a pop (about $0.80). We have decided to impose a one balloon limit on the household. This works pretty well as the balloons will last weeks. If HD sees a balloon lady we can just refer to the one we have at home and tantrums are avoided. It revolutionary, I tell you.

Our latest balloon investment was in Lucky Dog. A formerly 4-legged creature, our newest pet lost a leg in his first days with us, but has kept his joyful smile. He enjoys walks around the apartment, being thrown in the air and caught, and rides in boxes. He is well loved, and fading. He will always have a place in our hearts.

Yes, he just kind of floats above the ground. It's really cool. The balloon lady has dinosaurs that do this too. That may be next.

Brrrrrrr

Things I wish China would invest in:

- Insulation
- Western toilets (you know, the kind you sit on)
- Internet cables
- Green energy
- People
- Breweries

Things I love about China:

- Scary looking fruits and veggies
- Hot pot
- Slippers
- Inexpensive buses
- Trains
- My students

Turkey Broth to Die For

We were invited to a belated Christmas dinner on New Year's Day with some other expats. The dinner was very much a Thanksgiving meal for us, complete with turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, gravy, and sweet potato-pecan amazingness. Very, very good.

At the end, a half-eaten turkey glared at us as we cleaned up the kitchen. I offered to take the poor thing off their hands so I could make stock and turkey soup (thanks mom!). They obliged, even letting me borrow a pot to cook it in. After leaving them the wishbone (that I broke - is that bad luck?), I had a pot full of turkey bones. Yum.

The next afternoon around 3 the pot was brimming with bones, carrots, onions, and water that looked a bit like this:

 I had read a recipe once (okay, an hour before this picture was taken) that discussed skimming the stock throughout the cooking. Usually, I just skimmed the first bowls-ful of foam and left the thing to simmer for an hour until I got tired of watching it. Apparently this is why my stocks have always been so-so.

This time, I skimmed every 10 minutes for the first hour. I started with cold water on low heat and let it get warm veeerrry slowly. It did not bubble for over an hour, though it did steam. When I skimmed, I was not removing foam but little fat droplets that were clearly yellow and hanging around my onions. I removed bowls and bowls of fatty stuff, stopping to take this picture because I was so amazed at how yellow it was.

Now the really cool (or disgusting) part of this whole process was not the amazing, delicious, and rich stock I got after 4 hours of a slow simmer. **Check out how reduced it is?! Awesome.**

The cool part was how the skimming appealed to my love for picking at things (here comes the potentially gross part). I am that person who has scars from paper cuts because I pick the scabs for so long. Having a newborn is sometimes a struggle as you are not to pop the cute little baby acne they get lest you scar them at 8 weeks of age (told you it was gross). But searching out little droplets of fat in steaming broth among floating veggies and turkey bones? Heaven.

And it was totally worth it. Not only is the broth amazing enough to be referred to as such twice in one blog entry, but I left it in the fridge overnight, hoping to skim the fat off the top in the morning before freezing. The next day, there was so little fat to skim, it was difficult. I left it, thinking, I've already done my part. Leave a little fat.

Devine.

A final note: when I began the skimming process I was all excited and brought hubby over to see. His first response to my joy was, "isn't fat where all the flavor is?" I was so surprised that I responded with, "yes, but the flavor from the fat seeps into the water before I remove it." Who's the biologist?

Really, with stock, the flavor is in the bones, not the fat. Leaving in fat will make a more flavorful broth, but a richer broth comes from one strengthened with bones. And that is what is now in my freezer. Ha.

Baby steps

I'm supposed to be studying my Chinese - I'm up in 3 minutes. Let's see what I can do, in pinyin (the latin version of Chinese) for now. I will figure out characters soon.

Ni hao. Ni hao ma? Wo hen hao. Ni jiao shen me? Wo jiao Abby. Ni ne? Wo jiao (insert your name here). Wo shi lao shi. Zai jian. Zai jian.
*note: All these words are missing the tone accents. I will add them later if I can figure out how.

Translation: Hello. How are you? I'm very good. What is your name? I am Abby. And you? I am (insert your name here). I am a teacher. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Not bad, eh?

It has begun

What's in my brain...

I'm finding it a lot harder than I thought to just brain dump here. Tate did mention I should tell him I'm going to take a dump when I do this. Anyway, there is a lot of pressure that comes with writing for an audience, small though it may be. I do like that about writing in a notebook, the way it can can just flow and no one ever has to read it, even me.

But this is my quest for freedom from a stress-haggard life and I must continue.

I will try to keep this from becoming a 'dear diary' type thing, though much of what will appear is sure to be just your regular old day-to-day stuff. So I guess I'll just start with that.

Today, PB had really bad morning breath and got an awesome new coat that makes her look like a raspberry. HD and her best friend reunited after the holiday break and HD had a look of extreme disappointment upon seeing that her friend had gotten the Tinkerbell fairy wings that HD asked Santa for(good thing she can't read this because she's getting them tomorrow - Santa was late on this this year). Hubby told me I was good at coming up with activities for class and spent an hour working on a new puzzle with HD. I got a bit more planning done (there's ALWAYS more) and discovered an awesome lab for making balloon rockets.

I still have not read anything for pleasure - but I think I will have time! It's early yet and the grading I've put off for 3 weeks can wait for the ride to school in the morning.

This is bound to get more interesting.

It has to.

For my sake as well as yours.

Till tomorrow...

The joy of parenting

Today I had to manually tear apart a toddler poo so it would flush down the toilet. Never thought I'd have to do that.


**I did start this on time, yesterday, really. But computer freezes and slow internet delayed the posting of this until now. Another post, really meant for today, will come shortly.**

Trying it again, huh?

Yesterday, Tate and I were discussing New Year's resolutions. I said mine was to find stress relief so my stress doesn't effect my relationships. I have realized how little I have done for myself here, allowing all my energy to go into work and the girls. Therefore, I am proposing 4 ways to a stress-managed Abby. Here's the list:

1. Run/walk at work 2 afternoons per week. During the week, I do not get any exercise. We have a track at school that rarely gets used. Might as well.

2. Read for pleasure every day. Tate and I have been going to bed quite late and it has cut into my reading in bed time. I want to read non-work related material at least 30 minutes per day. I'll have to see how this goes - it may need to be in the morning, reading news I'm embarrassingly far behind on, or maybe I just need to go to bed at a reasonable time.

3. Crochet. When pregnant with HD, I made a gazillion blankets. Then she was born. Here we are, 3 1/2 years later with no new handmade stuff. I found some awesome $1 yarn that was begging to be made into a throw that our beds are desperate for. I need to do this weekly. Make some stuff.

And 4. I will write on this blog every day for the entire year. You're right, I've said this before and it didn't work out so well. But I find that I need to write every day. I need to dump the contents of this noggin and writing by hand goes even worse than writing on here. And here, at least, one of you out there may hold me accountable for missing a day. Or 5. So here we go again. Hop in and prepare yourself for the innards of my mind. You will now be subjected to what needs to leave my consciousness every day in order to stay sane. Should be fun.

By the way, Happy New Year!

And see you tomorrow!