Flashback February: Day 17, Part 2

(One year ago this LAST month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen days of February 2008 HOWEVER MANY DAYS IT TAKES to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

You don't step off an international flight at O'Hare and feel refreshed. "Frazzled" might be a good word. "Frantic, Frenzied, and Faint" are a few others. Not only is that place a buzz, but our bodies were spinning as well.

A 14-hour flight from halfway around the world has a tendency to do that.

As we fought off sleep--All The While Tending To A Baby--we caught some rumblings that the flight we were scheduled to go home on was going to be canceled.

Oh glory, did we ever step into gear just then.

And you can relax. We made it on an earlier flight, as God in his Infinite Goodness had mercy on not just me, but the entire airline personnel as well.

Because you see, this Ma did not have just one child, called "Susie." She had left behind a couple of other kids named Campers (5) and Zig (2). And there was NOTHING, AB-SO-LUTE-LY NOTHING that was going to separate this Mama Bear from her cubs any longer.

I would have walked from Chicago to Fort Wayne if I had to.

Pulling my luggage behind me. Through the snow.

So when Pa and I stepped on that last and final flight, and knew we were on our way home, we crashed. (I know, I know, bad choice of words. Again.) All three of us were dead to the world the whole flight.

So when we landed in Fort Wayne, we were not the most coherent folks on that flight.

Well, how would we know, because by the time we woke up, we were the ONLY folks on that flight.

Mmmm-hmmm.

And when Pa and I stepped off that plane--the Last Leg of The Journey--we did so with a bit of reluctance. We weren't ready to say "goodbye" to our trip or say "hello" to reality.

But we dragged ourselves into the airport and off to the first restroom we saw, partly to wash off some stench, but mostly to switch gears.

That's the funny thing about airports. They mark so many beginnings and endings...tell so many transitions and tales. I have mentioned before that airports invigorate me, but they also awaken me to all the "welcomes" and "farewells" of the world around me. It's tough to walk through a terminal without shedding a few tears.

And that humble little airport, out in a cornfield in Indiana, became hallowed ground to me that day. It wasn't just a place for our plane to land--it was the place where my baby's life began.

Her new life.

Her new family.

Her new friends.

Fittingly, we were greeted by scads of family and friends, carrying balloons, gifts and signs:

But I had my eye focused on two little boys in red. I'm telling you, there is nothing so sweet as being reunited with the people you love. After 17 days apart, we weren't even sure we'd recognize our kids, let alone them recognize us.

Our eldest, Campers became his usual Reserved Self, standing off to the side. I imagine that he was keeping his emotions at bay, not wanting to embarrass himself in the crowd.

But our Zig? He squashed right up to me and the Suz, happily saying over and over, "It's my own baby sister...my very own baby sister."

It was the cutest, most precious thing I have ever heard.

(As you can tell by my face saying "Awwwww...")

Here's our first family photo of five:

Which was a surreal moment, as you might imagine. Pa and I quickly transitioned to Zone Defense, 2 on 3.

And that Campers?

No worries. When we arrived in the comfort of our own home that night, he took hold of that girl with all the love that a five-year-old could afford:

People always ask me how the boys first responded to Suz. I tell them--they claimed her as Sister. And that was the end of that.

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 17, Part 1

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-NINE days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

Airports invigorate me.

Just ask the Pa.

During our China trip, I usually walked about 10 paces ahead of him as we zipped through each of the twelve (!) airport stops.

He loves that about me.

Here he is (where I *let* him get a few paces ahead), at the Guangzhou airport--our first flight out of China:

This pleasant little flight...

(Oh! We interrupt this story for a story-within-a-story...)

(Look! Do you see the big yellow sticker on Pa's left shoulder? That sticker stood for "Stupid American Who Speaks Only One Language And Can't Make His Way Around An International Airport Without The Help Of A Honkin' Yellow Sticker!!")

(It was a comforting thing...I suppose.)

(Though I can't for the life of me remember what the sticker really meant or how it helped us.)

(Unless it was just another form of the Chinese sense of humor.)

But that flight took us just to Hong Kong...

Where we boarded the next flight to Chicago O'Hare.

But more than just the thrill of jet-setting was the excitement of going home.

Home!

But before we reached the glorious It's Okay To Brush Your Teeth With The Tap Water place, we had miles to go before we slept.

Not a one of us (including the other four travel group families on the same flight) was looking forward to 14 hours on a plane with our babies.

And the biggest baby?

Me.

Shortly into the flight my head started pounding, migraine-like, and I did not recover until we landed in the states. Misery times ten.

And speaking of misery...

As we flew over Japan, we experienced some "turbulence," which should have been called "Mama! Mama! This Plane Is Inside Outside Upside Down!!"

So...when plates and hot coffee are flying all around?

That is not "turbulence."

And after things settled down, I confirmed that I was not the only adoptive parent on board that was praying rather fervently..."Dear God! We-have-come-this-far!! You are NOT going to kill us now!!! Do-You-Hear-Me??!?!?!?"

(I think he particularly liked it when I shook my finger at him.)

(As I sat in a big hunk of metal, thousands of feet above the ground.)

Suz was a real trooper, sleeping most of the time in the empty seat (oh, glory!) that just happened to end up beside us. Pa had the job of keeping her "happy" and fed. "Happy" meaning "not crying more than six times every hour."

And after 14 hours of baby food spills and formula feedings and spit ups and diaper leaks--that girl was One Stinkin' Disaster.

Fortunately I had the foresight to pack a change of clothes for her. None for us, of course. We were right back where we started, smelling up the place with our stench.

Landing at O'Hare was one of the Most Delightful parts of that day. Oh, the Blessed Relief of being Off That Plane.

But we had no time to savor the moment, as we were herded through customs and from terminal to terminal, all with luggage and baby in tow. By this time, our front-pack baby carrier was no good, as it had sat on the floor of the plane and was currently soaking wet (more stink).

So we had a baby to manhandle, all the while keeping our Very Important Alien Immigration Paperwork In Our Hands At All Times.

What? More paperwork?

Yep.

During a time when we were Incoherent, we still had some red tape to go through.

I mean, it isn't every day that you try to sneak a person into the country that you didn't leave with.

So I guess it makes sense.

But still. I don't know what was in that envelope or who I gave it to, but we were eventually free to catch our next flight.

It was all such a frantic blur--those moments between flights. We didn't get a chance to say a proper "goodbye" to any of our travel mates as we rushed to the next stop. Nor were we able to take any pictures of the Red Tape Parade.

And as the room continued to spin, one of my first thoughts after landing at O'Hare was..."Where are all the Asians? What is with all these different colors of hair? And why is nearly everyone white? And speaking English?"

It was reverse culture shock at its best.

The other thing I noticed was that there were people who saw our little family, and "got it." They knew we had just stepped off the plane from China. They knew that the girl we were holding was not our daughter by birth. She was our daughter by choice.

And that was a lovely, affirming thing.

And at that point, it hit me once again: We did it. We had laid out our values, and followed our dreams. And those dreams led us to a girl not with blue eyes and curls, but one from across the world.

We had touched American soil. Suz was a citizen; Suz was our girl.

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 16, Part 6

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-EIGHT days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

I really like this picture. Oh, sure...it looks like I have a hand growing out my right side:

But besides that, it makes me glad that we took a moment to say "goodbye" to China and all that it meant to us.

We mourned and celebrated many of our "finals:"

The final flights to not miss

The final bags to be packed

The final night in a hotel

The final hours of being a minority

The final paperwork to be signed

The final clowning around at group meals

The final view of the soil and the beauty of China

The final goofball-inducing sightseeing

The final sightings of pigs

The final moments as a group

The final meals eaten with meals eaten with chopsticks

The final diaper changing routines

The final squatty potty adventures

It was good to say "goodbye" then; it is good to say "goodbye" now.

(But we're still not home yet.)

(More to come.)

(And for those who wish I would just hurry up and get this China reminiscing over with--never fear. The end is near.)


(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 16, Part 5

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-SEVEN days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

Nothing is more glorious and wonderful than the Squatty Potty:

After all, is there anything else that incites such reactions? Such smells? Such stories?

I think not.

Yes, folks--you stand up to Do Your Business.

Your flabby thighs? Start to burn.

The toilet paper? Carry your own.

The basket in the corner? Used toilet paper.

The smell? Don't Breathe.

The floor? Squeaky shoes.

Oooooh, the stories. Things like having to use the squatty potties made our trip to China just that more memorable.

One of my favorite stories to tell (and tell, and tell) is when a few of us girls entered The Toilet together. This particular restroom (at the orphanage) had dividers between each toilet, but they went only as far up as our shoulders. So--we could still see each other over the walls, and continue our blabbing if we pleased.

All a bit disconcerting, I might add.

Crazy Americans. So private.

So I was doing my best at concentrating on my own business, but probably due to a neck cramp (yes, it takes those muscles to squat!!) I decided to look over at my pal next door. And much to my surprise, her sweatshirt was wrapped all around her head a few times, in an "effort" to block out the smell.

Don't think that worked.

But it got a good snort outta me.

Better luck next time, "Mummy."

(Next time??!)

(Of course! We need to add to our collection of stories.)



(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 16, Part 4

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-SIX days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

I'm not quite ready to "fly home" just yet with this blog. There are a few odds and ends that simply must be talked about.

We had tour guides the whole time we were in China--four of them to be exact. But there was one who stuck close to our group for most of that time--Sherry:

Sherry was fun, goofy, efficient, and highly intelligent...no wonder I liked her.

She guided us through the maze of all things "China," like our paperwork for starters:

And when she wasn't busy spewing out historical facts and figures, she was regaling us with stories of Real Life In China. (All spoken in Chinglish, of course.) You know, tales about marriage and her job and the one-child policy and music and Asian hair and skin and all kinds of tidbits that made me think, and helped me to understand more about the country our daughter first called "home."

Well, most of the stories made me hoot and snort, and just generally make a total buffoon of myself.

Nothing unusual there, I assure you.

But she joined right in with the fun:

And claimed those girls as her own:

We had to say goodbye to Sherry not once, but twice. And both times--I was a crumpled mess of tears.

That's so like me, you know.

(Pffftt.)

I've had over a year to analyze the whole thing--why I had grown such a strong attachment to her--why it was so hard to see her go.

I guess it's like this.

We had laughed together, cried together, worried together. Ran through airports together. Waded through paperwork together. Calmed my IV baby together. She was my peer; she was my friend. And like my girl, she was Chinese. My chances of ever seeing her again were slim to none.

Sherry had so graciously shared her life and her time with us--and all she asked in return was that we love and take care of her babies.

And maybe that's it.

Maybe there was a part of me that felt like Sherry was our Susie's "mother."

And so I wasn't saying goodbye to a "tour guide," I was walking away from a friend. And a dear one, at that.

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 16, Part 3

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-FOUR days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

It was time for: The Last Supper. This "last hurrah" at a restaurant in the hotel was enjoyed by many of those in our travel group. I'd include their pictures too, but thought I'd save them the embarrassment of looking like a chipmunk:

(Note the impressive feat of feeding Susie a bottle, and feeding myself an 8" hunk of bok choy--with chopsticks. A learned skill, for sure.)

And that phrase, "worn-out?" A bit of an understatement.

But as we sat around the table, we were simply in shock that we had done it. We had filled out the paperwork and had flown all over China for one purpose and one purpose only:

To Bring Our Babies Home.

And, the next day--that's where we were going to be.

Unbelievable.

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 16, Part 2

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-THREE days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

After our swearing party, our bus driver dropped us off lunch, fortunately no grubs this time.

Time for some Mall Food, at the very busy Banana Leaf Restaurant:

Which was some of theeee taste-ee-ist food (Thai) we had while traveling. I still think back with fondness of the spicy green beans. Perhaps I was just glad to see a green vegetable other than bok choy.

(Those Chinese?)

(They LOVE them some bok choy. Stems nice and crunchy; leaves good and slimy.)

(Never did figure out how to eat an 8" vegetable with a pair of chopsticks.)

But see that satay--glory!

And even though Sister's shirt says "My Heart Belongs To Daddy," her dirty diapers belonged to me.

Right in the middle of my fantastic feast, Sister needed a change. Desperately.

Remember the little story about no changing tables??

Sigh...

Here's a snippet from my journal about what could have been a quick and easy change:

I headed off to the "Toilet" with the Squawker in tow. The restaurant was packed, so I knew I could not get through the diaper change unscathed.

First I did the Horrible Thing of placing my child on the bathroom floor (I laid something down first, but that didn't matter.) The Hens came out in full force--at least six ladies gathered around to see The Show.

"White Lady Changing Chinese Baby In Toilet."

I was quickly told (via dramatic sign language and Chinese chirping) that my child had too few clothes on. One lady started rubbing her hands together, and then placed her warm hands on Susie's tummy to calm her down. Then another rubbed her hands down Susie's arms to keep them warm.

The whole time there was also the Chinese Chatter to keep the baby from crying – an interesting mixture of sing-songing and yapping.

And then The Interview. “Whey you from?” “Your baby grill oh boy?” “China Baby?” “How old?” “First baby?” “Two boys!!! You ha' two boys already?!?! [Chatter chatter chatter] How old they??” And on it went.

Then the Crowd had to help me get Susie dressed, get everything all packed up. I did happen to notice that not a one of them grabbed the poo-poo diaper. Where's a Hen when you need one?

After that lengthy ordeal, we finished up our meal and walked back through the mall--only to see this:

"Marry Christmas and Happy News Year."

(Did I mention it was February?)

I love Chinglish.

And I especially love Thai food, in a mall in South China.

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 16, Part 1

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-THREE days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

We are now entering Our Official Last Day In China.

But never fear, I still have at least 4-5 posts rumbling around in this head-o-mine. Surprised?

Our morning trek took us to the U.S. Consulate, where about 100 other people were loitering around, all there to do the same thing: Swear.

And lemmetellya, there was a lot to swear about. Waiting, crying babies, stinky babies, and more waiting. Oh, and the fact that we couldn't take our camera inside to, ummmm, document the moment.

Because as you can see, we are Strictly Business when it comes to Reporting.

Yes, but seriously folks, after about 45 minutes of waiting, some Official Person came in, and we all raised our right hands and swore that what we put in our documents was true.

I mean, it had been two years since we had filled out the paperwork--what did *I* know?!? But swear I did.

Besides, I was too distracted to notice much of the official stuff going on. We had heard that Jim Caviezel was in town--adopting a child at the very same time--and our chances of seeing him at this Official U.S. Stop was actually quite high. So I spent most of my time peering around, looking for a movie-star mob.

No dice.

I'm guessing Mr. Caviezel simply has friends in high places (!!), and was able to bypass the hordes of people and have his own little session of swearing.

Pa wanted to see him just so he could say, "I met Jesus in China."

He thinks he's so clever.

But some of our travel mates did see Jesus--and here's the pic to prove it:


But even without Jesus being present for our swearing (probably a good thing), we still accomplished this Last Step of adoption paperwork in China.

Our girl was free to leave the country. With us.

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 15, Part 3

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-THREE days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

Being the wild-n-crazy type of folk, Pa and I teamed up with some pals and headed out to eat.

Before stuffing our bellies, we stuffed ourselves into an itty-bitty taxi-mobile. After a lively discussion using both "sign language" and Chinglish, we were off for some grub:



Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's back up.

Here I am, at the entrance to the restaurant:


Where we were quickly seated, but not-so-quickly served. After several minutes of the waitresses mulling around, we finally flagged one down and signed for a "menu."

This should have been my first clue to run:


But alas, we were hungry. I tried placing an order for pork (using the Point At The Pictures In The Menu Method), but was answered with animated Chinese--telling me I had chosen the wrong thing. I don't know what I ordered after that--I just aimed and pointed at a picture of an animal without the head attached.

NOT the ones on this page, for instance:


Crocodile, anyone?

Meanwhile, a small bowl of appetizers was placed at our table--our friends daring me to try them. And to this day, I do not know what animal or what body part I was eating--but I would venture to say it was a "knuckle" from possibly a "squid." It had just the right amount of crunch and a total void of flavor to be anything else.

Well, the food came. And this picture of our pals just makes me laugh:


But then the fish joined the party:


You see, our pals were NOT afraid of this (previously) head-bearing delight:


Truthfully, we all devoured that tasty thing, even though its eye begged us not to.

A bit disconcerting, that it was.

Pa and I ended up with pork, complete with the skin and fat attached. I was just glad I didn't have to pluck any hairs.

As we headed out, we noticed a little "market" right beside the restaurant, complete with live fish and snips and snails and puppy dog tails.

THE LIGHT WENT ON.

(DUMB AMERICANS.)

We were supposed to enter the market, select our meat, and THEN be seated to eat.

But you know? There's a part of me that's glad we missed this little boat. Here's a glimpse:



I got dibs on the croc!

Or maybe some geoduck (GOOey duck):


Year Of The Pig, yum yum:



And looky there! This fish comes with a salad. Pre-chewed:


What an adventure. Crunchy white knuckles and all.


(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 15, Part 2

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-ONE days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

We're still in China, cuz it's not over 'til the wee baby cries.

But more on that in a minute.

Pa and I headed out for some eats, and soon ended up in a classy restaurant rarely frequented by the Pale-Faced Folk. But amidst the stares and having Nearly The Entire Kitchen Staff come out to gawk at us, we still managed to order our food.

Meanwhile, Pa fed the babe her bottle:

Then once our food came, Pa dug right in to his edamame (soybeans). Well, "dug right in" being a total exaggeration, since he had chopsticks at his disposal, and chopsticks only:

Let's just say: The Wait Staff was still loitering around, snickering at our feeble foreigner attempts at "eating."

I was chuckling myself, being glad that *I* wasn't the ninny who ordered the slippery little beans in the first place.

Eventually the Wait Staff tired of The First Ring Of This Circus, so they rounded up and handed Pa a big spoon:

I guess that's what you call "Chinese humor."

But that spoon, it did get those beans down the hatch in a much more "American" kind of way.

(In that picture, it appears that Susie was snarking right along with her Asian Friends and Fans.)

(Dorky Doofy Parents.)

But all our mealtime fun soon turned to "misery" as the Suz decided she was going to become a crying little fuss busket.

No matter! The Very Attentive Waitress soon came to our table, and through Caveman Sign Language, insisted that she was going to hold our baby so that we could eat our meal in peace.

Now that's what I call "service!"

I just assumed that she was going to bounce little Suz for a minute or two, then hand her back to us--the odd-looking round-eyed parents.

I thought wrong.

This gal - a total stranger - TOOK OUR SUZ OUT OF SIGHT - and didn't come back for at least 20 minutes.

Did I eat that meal in peace??

NOT AT ALL.

We assume our waitress took Her Prize back to the kitchen, as there was a lot of Chinese Cooing And Clucking heard from a distance.

(Surely we are the most numb skull parents that ever walked the face of the earth.)

I spent most of that meal thinking up ways I would convince our social worker/agency/family/friends that we are Qualified And Intelligent Parents, even though we let our child be kidnapped from our very own hands.

But alas, the babysitting timer went off right before the Mama Freak Out Alarm was about to blow.

And we took our (no longer) crying baby and went home.

[And if you thought that meal was an adventure? The best is yet to come.]

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 15, Part 1

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

In one room...on one day...eight families "gave birth" together.

That isn't something that happens every day. Every year for that matter. For most--it was a once in a lifetime experience.

And then it had to come to an end. It was time to go home.

"Home" is a strange word in this case. We had "birthed" our babies in China. Their "home" was China. Yet our home was Ohio.

But only for us. "Home" to the other seven families was the East Coast and the West Coast, and a few states in between. It was hard to take my babe from her "sisters"--other girls who had shared not just a room with her--but a history as well.

So our travel group gathered for pictures, which marked The Beginning Of The End of this crazy adoption journey. It was a special group for sure--people we laughed with and cried with...ate with and talked with.

Let's take a look at the gang, shall we?

Starting with the zany folks from (then) Ohio, and now the Pacific Northwest (maybe you recognize these two):


To the parents of the twins, currently in Alabama:


To their neighbors in Mississippi:


The Midwesterners in Illinois:


And Pennsylvania:


Hailing from Maryland:


And New Jersey:


And all the way back to the West Coast, in California:


And here's the full group, all of us who adopted babies from the same orphanage at the same time through the same agency:


And to any of our travel mates who are following the snippets and sagas once again--I send a hearty hello, and big bear hug.

Because if there is one thing I do well - It's be a Big Bear.

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 14, Part 2

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen NINETEEN days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

Ahhhhhh...a dinner cruise on the river. Sounded like the perfect tourist trap way to while away the hours in Guangzhou. Everyone else was doing it, so we did too.

Baaaaaaaaa...

Once the sheep were herded onto the boat and squished into their pens, errrr, seats--the food was served.

"Food" being a euphemism for "Garbage They Found Floating In The River."

I'm not sure what our ticket money was going towards...but I'm guessing it wasn't the food.

So we quickly filled our gullets, and headed to the top deck to catch the view. We were greeted with this:

"Noticing The Danger Strictlies Forbid To Climb."

I love Chinglish.

Oh, and here's a great scene:

I'll spare you from seeing the other 95 shots of the same bridge.

You can go take the cruise and see it yourself.

Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 14, Part 1

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen NINETEEN days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

Still in Guangzhou.

Got our girl all gussied up for Valentine's Day:

Headed out to shop:

Where we mostly just goofed off:

And ate:

"Lucy's" is a "traditional" (I mean that in an American-tradition, not a Chinese-tradition kind of way) place to eat while hanging out in Guangzhou. We decided to give in to our sheep-like behavior and follow the crowd to some burgers and onion rings. Don't get me wrong--I love me some Chinese food. But it was nice to have some greasy American fare while off in a faraway land.

We were on the home stretch, that we were.


(Read the whole China story.)

Flashback February: Day 13, Part 2

(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen EIGHTEEN days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)

While we were still in Guangzhou, waiting for our Alien to be released, we took a walk in the Yue Xiu Park, which was just a short distance from our hotel.

We paid an entrance fee to tour the park. (Their magnificent statues don't maintain themselves, ya know.)

Here's Pa and the Suz as we entered the park, which was all gussied up for the New Year. Look how natural those paper-thingies look as they hang from the trees:

And if I look a bit parched? Winded?

It's because it was hot--hot I tell ya--in February. (Remember us freezing in Beijing? Not the case in the South.) And I was wearing jeans and one of my four long sleeve shirts and carrying 87 pounds on my back, all the while doing this insane activity that some like to call "exercise."

That sign beside me?


Really cleared things up, thanks.

And this is how we saw much of China while we were there--lots of people prepping for the big New Year celebration. Notice the naked pig in the background:

Speaking of naked...check out the boy in the split pants*:

That right there was worth the price of admission to the park.

*What are split pants, you ask? Pants with a big open seam at the bottom--to make for quick and easy potty stops. Watch where you step, I say.

(Read the whole China story.)