Non-Minnesotans are probably blissfully unaware that it was F---ING SNOWING on the day that we left for China. That was April 28th. I like that Prince song about snow in April, but when it comes to actual snow in April it's not the melancholy feeling that song evokes, but something more akin to a deep and abiding sadness tinged with rage.
Our northern blood hasn't had the chance to stop running thickly, and warmly through our veins. And now we're in what is referred to as "the furnace of China" and afternoons it feels an awful lot like someone lit that baby up and my jeans feel like big terry cloth towels after a too long in the steam room on my legs. Dank? That's close, but hotter than dank. Who made me bring jeans? Perhaps it's time for one of my pan-cultural wraps--freedom-pants! Propriety says "no."
We're in Tongling now. It's great and weird. This is definitely Jing Jing's birth city. In Shanghai I didn't have this sense that we were among her people. Shanghai is filled with people from all over China. Tongling is filled with people from Tongling. And by golly, many of the people here share a lot in common, looks-wise, with Jing Jing. The bellman at the hotel (sweet kid who strutted his English like a peacock, but a demure peacock without all the peacocks cockiest attributes) noticed this immediately.
"She is Chinese?"
Sorry, but, "Duh?"
"Where is she from?"
"She's from here."
"I knew it."
And why not? Jing Jing is clear and fair complected; she is very broad-faced, full-lipped, heavy lidded like so many of the people in Tongling--and Anhui generally. The girls on the street all fall in love with here and want to hold her. She looks like many of their kid sisters, I reckon. Jing Jing mostly retreats into herself during all their exclamations, but I think that she is pleased about it actually.
why are these men holding hands? actually there is a lot of hand-holding here between men and men and women and women. makes us uptight westerners alternately insecure and excited!
Today, for example, we went on an excursion through a shopping mall (though there are big glittering examples of these in China this one was more old school and very dirty and hot) and Penny spotted a store called Beauty Fashion where you can buy fancy hair things. A group of female employees fixed up Jing Jings hair very elaborately, up-selling every inch of the way of course, and cooing at the results. After affixing about fifty dollars worth of doo-dads to her hair the assistant looked at us and said, "This hair is very exciting!" Yeah, sure, but please remove three pounds worth of sparkly butterflies and hearts and it will still be completely over the top. The overall experience was simply fantastic and loving. People are staring and curious, but mostly not threatened by what they see.
On the other hand many people here are not aware of international adoption and there have been some uncomfortable moments. The mildest form being the staring, no let's be honest, the gaping, but also running to someone saying "Shenme Shi?" roughly equivalent to "What the hell?" to a friend while looking pointedly at us, to a woman nearly chasing Penny and Jing Jing across the street looking at Jing Jing and saying "Ni de mama zai na li?" or "Where's you mama?" over and over, to a lady coming up to us and saying, "Ta bushi ni de" or "She isn't yours" to which I responded, "She is. We are her mom and dad. She was born here, but she is our daughter." She replied with, "I don't believe you." How can one respond to such ignorance? But at the same time, how can we blame her? My Chinese is unfortunately too limited to give the answer that I really wanted to, but not limited enough to smile nod and ignore it. And even if it wasn't, that is a long conversation and not worth it with the likes of her.
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