Wednesday in XiaJiang and Nanchang

First of all, thank you all for the comments you leave. We can't see the blog here, but the comments get emailed to me & we love to get them. We get a little lonely here sometimes, so it's nice to hear familiar voices from home.

Yesterday was a huge day. I haven't had time to keep a journal like I intended to, so I'm using the blog as a journal. I'm afraid that means there may be much more here than you want to read, so feel free to skip over all the text and go straight to the pictures. Oh, and about the pictures -- most of what we took yesterday was on the film camera or the camcorder, not the digital, so there aren't a whole lot. Sorry. We'll do better today. The three I have for today are all from XiaJiang. One is Z & me in the pagoda at her orphanage, one is us at the gate of her orphanage, and one is us sitting on some steps. M wanted me to include this last one so you could see that she isn't actually ALWAYS smiling, which is the way it may have appeared to be so far. There is also one picture of a Xia Jiang taxi, we saw one that carried our passengers and the driver.

Yesterday, we hired a driver and a translator and took a trip to the town Z is from. It's called XiaJiang, and it's about an hour and a half south of Nanchang on a super-modern highway. Seriously, it was just like an interstate back home, except that the signs were in Chinese and weird English (lots of signs for "righe" turns). Also a little different was the way people drove. Take our driver, for instance. He honked the horn before he passed anyone, while he was passing, if he was thinking about passing, if someone else was passing him, if someone else looked like maybe they were thinking about passing him, and sometimes just for fun. And apparently in China, it is acceptable to pass anywhere, any time. Two big, slow trucks blocking the road in front of you? No problem. That's what the shoulder is for. For the most part, the vehicles on this road were big trucks with their loads covered by tarps and brand-new cars. Oh, and one truck was on fire. That caused a big traffic jam, fortunately in the other direction from where we were going. We were lucky to be in a minivan with seatbelts. We wore them the whole time, but our translator never did. Our driver did pull it across him one time without actually fastening it. He also slowed down dramatically at the same time he did this -- I think there was a photo radar thingee there.

It took about 15 minutes to get out of the city. We passed the biggest ferris wheel I've ever seen out in the fringes. Maybe 30 stories tall? 40? It was just behind a highrise building, and it was taller than the building. Quite frankly, it was a little scary. Mainly what we saw out on the fringes of the city was construction. Lots and lots of construction. There are thousands of new highrise apartment buildings going up. Our guide says that farmers are moving into the city, and people who live in the center now move out to these new buildings and rent their other apartment to the new arrivals. We asked what all these farmers do for a living when they get here, but never got an answer. Oddly, most of the new construction is still vacant. It seems like they get a building about 75% finished, then just leave it and go start a new one. It's hard to imagine enough people moving to this city to fill up all those empty buildings.

Once we got out of the city, it was all farm land. It appeared to be mostly rice they were growing, but there were other things we couldn't identify too. There were hundreds of little villages. They were made up of two-story brick buildings, whitewashed. The buildings were built very close together, with dirt pathways in between. Every doorway had red couplets on either side, since it's still Chinese New Year. In the yard of every house, there were chickens, a dog, and maybe a cow or ox. As we sped past these little towns that probably haven't changed very much in hundreds of years, we'd occasionally see a man walking along behind an ox, plowing a field. Right next to this super highway with brand-new cars and semi trucks barreling along at 120K per hour.

After an hour, we got off the highway, paid a toll, and started down a country road. It had turned a little bit mountainous as we got close to XiaJiang. They weren't especially tall mountains, but they were forested and very steep. I couldn't help wondering if there were paths that took you to the top. Maybe next time we come to China I'll ask. We passed through and by a few more tiny villages, always stopping to ask someone if they knew where the XiaJiang County Welfare Institute was. Everyone seemed to have a different opinion on this. I think they asked lots of people so they could go with the majority opinion and triangulate from the various directions they received. When we eventually came to XiaJiang, it was a much bigger town than all those villages. Our guide is from a town just half an hour away from XiaJiang, and she said about 100,000 people live in Z's town. Like Nanchang, most people in XiaJiang seem to live in apartments. They weren't highrises there though, maybe 5-6 stories at the tallest. After a lot of driving around and asking for directions, M & I spotted the orphanage in the distance. It's pretty easy to spot -- in a city of white-tiled anonymous boxes, it's a pink castle with a turret and a very old, very ornate gate.

Despite the fact that we were told we wouldn't be able to visit the orphanage, our driver pulled right in the front gate and parked in the courtyard. We got out and walked around a bit. There were three or four buildings set around three sides of the courtyard (the fourth side was a wall with the gate I mentioned). The courtyard had a pond in it, with a little pagoda in the center. There were narrow bridges leading from all four sides to the center. Z and I walked out to the pagoda while M took pictures. Z was a little bit fussy. I don't know if it's because she knew where she was and didn't want to be there, or because she'd just been wakened from a nap when we'd arrived. In any case, I held her extra tight and whispered to her the whole time we were there that it was "just a visit...you're our daughter now and you're coming home with us." I'm sure she understood every word. Ha! I do think the squeezing and whispering helped her feel better though.

There was a small group of adults with one toddler having lunch outside on a patio. After a few minutes, a man got up from this group and walked over to our translator. I heard "blah blah blah Xiao Zhi Yi blah blah blah." He could tell from all the way across the courtyard who I was carrying! And she even had a hood on that covered most of her face! It was obvious he was telling her we couldn't be there. He said we could take pictures from outside the gate, but not inside the courtyard, so we walked out to the gate. As we were standing there for M to take our picture, a woman rode out the gate on a bike. She glanced at us, then almost fell off her bike in surprise. She stopped at the side of the road, got off her bike, and watched us. When we started to walk in her direction to get back into our van, she rushed up, pushed back Z's hood and unzipped her little fleece suit to get a really good look at her, and grinned from ear to ear. She was Z's nanny! She looked for a few seconds, said a few words to our translator, then got on her bike and rode away. Our translator said she told her that Z was "a good baby." We already knew that! I felt like I should have asked her a million questions while I had a chance, but my mind was utterly blank. And Z didn't really show any emotion at all when she saw this woman; she just looked at her. We had talked beforehand about how if the opportunity to visit the orphanage presented itself, only one of us would go & the other would stay behind with Z to avoid upsetting or confusing her. Well, so much for that plan. It all happened so fast that it was really just out of our control. But Z seems no worse for wear after what must have been a confusing few minutes.

After we left the orphanage, we made a quick stop at the place where Z was found on the day of her birth. I don't really want to share much about that here, because I think it's a very personal detail of Little Z's life, and she should be the one to decide when and if it gets shared. I'll just say this: it was a busy place, and very close to the orphanage. I believe that the person who left her there knew she would be found almost immediately, and taken down the street to the orphanage where she would be cared for.

Our last stop in XiaJiang was at a park. It was a very large park, with a small pond and a big lake. We took a stroll around the pond. In XiaJiang, we didn't attract the crowds that we do in Nanchang. People looked at us, and I caught one guy snapping a picture of M with his camera phone, but people didn't gather around or follow us. After our little walk, we hopped back in the van and headed "home" to Nanchang.

After a way-too-short nap, we bundled Z up (not enough, as you'll soon find out), rented a stroller from the hotel, and set out on walk. This time, instead of crossing the street, we went around to the neighborhood behind the hotel. This neighborhood is what we see from our window, and we've been wanting to get a closer look. There's a gate on the side of our hotel that marks the opening to the neighborhood. After passing through that, we were in what was supposed to be a pedestrian street, but a lot of people on scooters and dirt bikes, and even a few cars, seemed to ignore that little rule. Hey, if it's OK to drive on the sidewalk, then we should just expect people to drive on a pedestrian street, right?

All down the left side of this street was the outside wall of a Buddhist temple. We could hear a big gong or bell from inside, but couldn't see it when we peeked in the windows in the wall. We kept walking, hoping to find a gate where we could enter. Down the other side of the street there were a lot of tiny shops and restaurants. At the corner, we found the entrance to the temple. We paid 10 yuan each, and stepped over the threshold. Inside was a big tiled courtyard. The bell we'd been hearing was just to our right. It had a big log hanging from chains that you could swing into the bell to ring it. I did, and I could feel the vibrations in the concrete patio under my feet. It was huge! Straight in front of us was a building with a giant golden Buddha inside, and hundreds of tiny golden Buddhas in little cubbies on the wall behind the big one. There were also some displays of very old porcelain pieces and some other things we couldn't identify. We surmised from the numbers we could read in one sign that was otherwise written in Chinese that at least one of these objects dated back to around 904-907 AD.

We walked out the back door of this building and found ourselves in another courtyard, where we were accosted by two very silly boys (or maybe it was a boy and a girl? we weren't sure) who followed us around for the rest of our time in the temple. They wanted to be in every picture we took, and they probably are. Right in front of us in this courtyard was a round building, seven stories tall. Each story is smaller than the one below it, so it looks a little bit like a tiered wedding cake. It has a gold point on the top. There are doorways all around each level of the building, with balconies outside. I'm guessing there are bells you can ring at the top, because we heard them. We didn't go up though -- the stairs were not really the kind you want to climb while holding a squirmy baby.

Behind this was yet another courtyard. Strangely, this one had a very modern climbing wall on one side, strung with prayer flags. It also had a very beautiful and elaborate building. There were golden statutes of three people inside, but we don't know who they were. The ceiling was stunning, with very elaborate carvings and a lot of colorful painting. There were similar painted carvings all around the walls. Lower on the walls were black stones with very detailed etchings depicting daily life and some battle scenes. It was a beautiful place, and if you ever come to Nanchang, you should visit. In both this building and the first one (with the giant Buddha), people had hung little red diamond-shaped pieces of wood, with red tassles hanging from them. These had handwritten notes in Chinese on the back. We're assuming they were prayer requests, but we really don't know. There were hundreds of them, hung from the walls and all around the Buddha.

One of the girls who worked in the last building we went in was very enamored with Z. She got very excited when we entered the building. She literally ran up to us, smiling and chattering at Z. She got down on her knees in front of her, and patted her cheeks and hands. She came back several times while we were there. Really, who could resist this baby? I'm surprised everyone doesn't do this. Actually, quite a lot of people do.

As we left this last building, they closed up and the three girls who worked there left for the day. They accompanied us across the courtyard, along with the two boys we'd picked up earlier. I tried to get the boys' names as we walked, but all I got was giggles. They tried to ask something, and I just shook my head and said "Wo she mei guo ren." ("I'm an American.") Apparently my accent was rather convincing because everyone's faces just lit up, and they started firing questions at me. All I could do was laugh and shrug, and this was apparently hilarious to everyone. As they all walked off, I threw out a "Tsai tien" ("Goodbye"), and they all waved and said goodbye back. M gave me an astonished look and said "Dude! You're a native!" Unfortunately, that was about half the Mandarin I know. I feel like I'm slightly retarded here.

We went back out to the street and strolled along for another block. The pedestrian section ended and we had to cross a real street. This was an adventure. Crossing the main streets isn't so bad. There are stoplights, cross walks and walk/don't walk signs, and sometimes even policemen directing traffic. Things run in a semi-orderly way. But on a back street like this one, there are no rules about driving on the sidewalk, staying on the right side of the road, or not running over pedestrians. It's a giant game of chicken. Whoever blinks first dies.

About halfway down the block ahead of us, we could see a group of grandmas sitting around a little table. All eyes were on us, and they were clearly discussing us. As we approached, they got up and gathered around. At first it seemed like they were saying nice things about Z, but it quickly became evident they were very upset about how little clothing we had on her. She was wearing tights, socks, and knit pants on the bottom, and long-sleeved onesie and fleece pullover on top, with a winter coat (hood on), hat and mittens. Oh, and it was in the high 50s outside, slightly chilly, but not cold at all. But the clothing police pulled up the leg of her pants to see what was underneath, fingered the weight of the cloth, and clucked and shook their heads at us. Then they grabbed a Chinese baby and showed us all its layers, fingering the cloth to demonstrate the padding. I just smiled and nodded, playing the slightly retarded American. M was a sucker though. (NOTE from M: It was getting a little chilly and I like making little Grandmas happy). He whipped out a blanket and started to cover Z's legs. I wouldn't let him though. I'm stubborn. I'm not letting those Chinese grandmas tell me how to take care of MY baby! OK, OK, we stopped behind a car where the Chinese grandmas couldn't see us and put the blanket on.

We turned around shortly after this and headed back, as it was almost dark. We stopped at the restaurant next door to our hotel for dinner. They sat us in a section that was virtually empty (not sure why, but we would have preferred to eat in the main dining room) and assigned us a waiter who thought he spoke English. I'm afraid he was wrong. Fortunately the menu had pictures. We thumbed through it and pointed at four things. I asked for a Coke, but he suggested I try some juice that was apparently mango-like. I said OK. He brought it over and showed it to us, pointing to it on the menu as he did. Um, that guy was upselling us big-time! That juice was 58 yuan (about $7), and a Coke was 5 yuan (less than $1). Slightly retarded Americans apparently have a big sign on their foreheads that reads "sucker." I declined to take the juice and repeated my request for a Coke. I've been eating Chinese food almost exclusively for almost a week, and a taste of home was good.

It turned out we'd ordered waaaaaaay too much food. All three of us gorged on edamame, tofu cooked in a dark, slightly spicy sauce, and a meatball & cabbage soup, but had no room left for the vegetable dumplings we'd ordered. Through a combination of gestures and random English words, M managed to communicate this and they agreed to take the last item off our order. We paid our bill (46 yuan, or about $7 -- this was a fancy, rather expensive restaurant), and called it a day.

We're about to head down to the breakfast buffet. Unfortunately, we're a little later than usual today and will probably have to eat breakfast in the midst of a bunch of smokers. At 10:00, we're hooking up with the group for a visit to the Teng Wang pavilion, the only tourist site in town. This afternoon, we're both getting massages. I should be very relaxed when I check in with you again.