我妈是一个老外

You may be wondering what the title of this post says. A year ago I myself would also wonder what I wrote, however that is before I stepped of the plane and became a 老外 (laowai). Now if you have never lived in this fair land that I now call home you may not have experienced the phenomenon of hearing yourself called laowai approximately 37 times a day, it is truly something that you can probably live your entire life without and still die happily.

When we first arrived in China I was mortified when people stared, pointed or yelled out laowai. How embarrassing. How rude. But that was until my husband would stare back, point at that person and yell out Zhongguo ren. Then they all would stare at him instead and wonder what was wrong with this rude guy who looked like a Zhongguo ren but was acting like a laowai.

As I've started to understand more conversations taking place around me the lao wai shout out has become pretty amusing. It's no longer embarrassing, just humorous, well most of the time. Then I started thinking about my kids and realized that depending on how long we live here they will grow from being sweet innocent babes to adorable children to grumpy teenagers and started wondering how they will react when they hear the melodic chorus of laowai.

Oh sure when people point and call out lao wai they will be pointing at my kids too, but still they'll probably fit in a little better then their Mom and also their Dad. Because no matter how hard we try our kids will probably have better Chinese. They will probably have a better understanding to parts of the culture. And they will more then likely be embarrassed by the things their parents do and say in front of their friends. Of course that last one we don't need to be living in China to see happen.

And that is when I realized that in a lot of ways in the eyes of a teenager parent who is a lao wai is just a lot like a parent who is a FOB. And that just like those who have seek to immortalize their embarrassment of their parents in the blogosphere by documenting the hilarious mistakes made by their English as a Second language parents, my children will possibly do the same to their Chinese as a Second Language mother.

So unborn kids, this one is for you. Just so you can get a head start I'd like to give you the top 10 ways you know you can say with pride 我妈是一个老外。I won't document my language mistakes just yet though, I'll save those for you.

我妈是一个老外 Top 10

1) If you have ever stood in a crowd watching a street performance and noticed that the majority of people in the crowd are no longer looking at the performance but at your Mom instead then your Mom might be a laowai.

2) If your Mom orders cheese and butter by the jin and has it delivered to your home then your Mom might be a laowai.

3) If your Mom ever walks around a restaurant looking at what other people have ordered and then giving the waitress her order based on what looks tasty rather then by trying to read the characters on the menu then your Mom might be a laowai.

4) If your Mom ever has had another mother plop her three year old child in front of her and then proceed to force that child to say hello, goodbye and sing Happy Birthday in English then your Mom is for sure a laowai.

5) If your Mom is constantly told that her child is not wearing enough clothes or allowing her child to lose weight or anything of the sort then your Mom might be a laowai.

6) If your Mom say's Ni Hao and Zai Jian to her neighbors instead of Chi le ma and Zuo le then she might be a laowai.

7) If your Mom let's another Mom's kids call her Aiyi and tells you to call that Mom Aiyi as well, but then stumbles over whether to call that Mom by her name, big sister, little sister, little xing, big xing or just "hey you" then your Mom might be a laowai.

8) If your Mom has ever served jiaozi, eggs and tomato, rice and mashed potatoes all on the same table then your Mom is definitely a laowai.

9) If your Mom has ever had a lower price quoted to her for potatoes at the market then the lady who comes up next because the vendor knows she won't bargain like a normal person then she is surely a laowai.

10) If as a baby you wore a diaper and were not allowed to pee or poo on the trees then your Mom is without question a laowai.

I would just like to say one thing about being a laowai. When I was growing up I had a friend who called her Mom a FOB quite often based on some of the pretty funny things she said and did. But she also made us a ton of delicious stuff to eat, drove us to the movies and did other cool Mom stuff. And despite language barriers she always liked talking to us. And so when I think about being that laowai Mom I hope I'm a Mom like that...even though I sometimes get third tone and second tone confused and do other weird things without even being aware that they are weird.

A little diddy...

In honor of today being Good Friday I asked my local sister how they celebrated zui hao de xingqiwu. Apparently asking someone who calls Good Friday the Passion day how they celebrate "the best Friday" takes a little bit of explaining and is reason number 213 that I should not be allowed to try my hand at guessing any words in any other language.

In honor of "the best Friday" I wanted to put together a little diddy, if it's ok to put a diddy together in honor of His death. Anyways, this little number is a compilation of lyrics that hit me in the gut every time I hear them....even if some are sung by Kelly Clarkson about an unrelated subject, well sort of unrelated.

Amazing love, how can it be? That you my king would die for me

At the wonderful, tragic mysterious tree, on the beautiful, scandalous night

From free grace alone from the first to the last

He is mighty to save, he is mighty to save

You count it strange so once did I, before I knew

Something changed inside me, broke wide open all spilled out, till I had no doubt

You are stronger, you are stronger, sin is broken, you are risen

You found me when no one else was looking, how did you know just where I would be?

It is you we adore, it is you our praises are for, it is you only you.

So what can I say, what can I do, but offer this heart completely to you.

More then I can ask...

I sometimes forget that He is able to do insurmountably more then we can ask or imagine. I sometimes remember when the thing is big, I almost always forget when the thing is small. Shame on me.

The other day I was riding home on my bike with a large load of dongxi; two bags of groceries and 5 jin of cotton stuffing to be exact. (It really is a blog post in and of itself describing how I am embracing the strangeness of the things I do regularly over here.) In the distance I saw a large truck spraying water onto the concrete street, which I guess produces a cleaner street. I saw my future and it meant I was about to get wet.

What did I do. Did I pray and ask for rescue? Did I remember my father who can do insurmountably more then I can ask or imagine. No, I just put my head down and braced myself.

But did I get wet? Absolutely not! At the exact moment I passed the street cleaner a large van passed me blocking my bicycle, myself and all my dongxi from the street cleaner's spray.

See...more then I could imagine...more then I could even ask...Thank you...You humble me...

Eavesdropping...

Recently a friend overheard this conversation between two little old women...

"What are you doing looking so beautiful today?"

"It's because I thought you would come by."

Cuties. I want to overhear conversations like this. Typically this is what I overhear:

Zou le: Which has a number of meanings including, I'm going, let's go, goodbye.

Ni kan, waiguoren: Which means that someone is pointing at me and telling their friend they see a foreigner.

Yi kuai ba qian: Which means those carrots cost 1.8 kuai per jin.

This can only mean one thing...if I want the world to be a beautiful place full of rainbows, sunshine and understanding then I'm going to need to study more...

Best enjoyed...

I've decided that I've been a little bit of a Grinch when it's come to fireworks this New Year's season. But I also have determined where this sentiment is coming from. It's coming from the reality that fireworks (including firecrackers) are best enjoyed not from your bedroom at 7:00 am, not from your kitchen at 7:00 pm and not while walking to the bike shed to get your bike and head to the store. Fireworks are best enjoyed when you have a front row seat and nothing else to do. And if that's you right now then here's something for you to enjoy:

But for those who thought I might be exaggerating about the propensity of our neighbors to set off fireworks several yards away from the building I submit this evidence:

We live on the sixth floor and have an attic in our apartment that would technically qualify as the seventh floor. And this is the balcony on that seventh floor outside the attic. So that little red tube that you see would be the case of a firework that was set off seven stories below only a few yards away from our window. You be the judge: Totally unsafe to be allowed to release fireworks purchased on the side of the road anywhere you desire. Or totally awesome. I leave it to you to decide.

Ting bu dong

Ting bu dong. Ting bu dong. Ting bu dong. Where have I heard that recently...well not out of my mouth I'll tell you that! Ting bu dong, meaning I hear but I don't understand, is a polite way of stopping any conversation while explaining to the other person that you can't make out their Chinese whether it's good, bad, or just out of your vocabulary range.

For awhile I would use this phrase every so often when I got stuck. But I tried to avoid it after the lady at the shoe store said that ting bu dong is the only thing wai guo ren know how to say. The irony is that in our short 5 minute friendship I eventually had to tell her I ting bu dong. Anyways, about four months ago I was elated when I heard someone say ting bu dong to me. Wow, I thought, it means I'm actually talking. Not very well, because the other person can't understand me, but at least I'm talking.

Well recently I've been bombarded with an onslaught of ting bu dongs. The lady sitting next to me on the airplane, the server at the restaurant, the seller at the market...it's amazing...they all ting bu dong me! Now I'll admit this is a sign that I should probably work more carefully on my pronunciation, tones and grammar, but I'm just so excited that I can talk now that I can't help but jump for joy. They ting bu dong me!!

My other huge praise has been that since coming back last week I've been able to comprehend maybe 75% of what's going on around me. So not only do they ting bu dong me, I ting dong them consistently nowadays! I'll admit that the majority of this 75% is either a) related to food b) understood while watching Thomas the Train in Mandarin or c) because another wai guo ren is speaking and I understand the context, but even so, I'm elated because I am also picking up on other conversations between locals that I'm eavesdropping hmhmhm* I mean happen to overhearing even without context. So, yeah me!

But before I go tooting my own horn I must be true to life and and describe what I heard today as I eavesdropped hmhmhm* I mean happened to overhear what a waitress said after I ordered some take out jiaozi.

“Her Mandarin is like a child's” she told her friend while looking at me and then quickly looking away.

Sad, but true. But I still have the last laugh...not only did I ting dong...I was totally stoked!!! Wow...my Mandarin is like a child's! I'm no longer a baby...I've graduated. I'm like a three year old now. And if you think my tongue is in my cheek think again. I actually am really excited. From 0-3 in eight months, not too bad! I'll need all the help I can get bringing on 3-6, but I'm ready for it!

*This is the sound of me clearing my throat just in case the context didn't dictate the random letters symbolizing a noise.

If I had only known...

When I was just a wee little lass my parents would take my sister and I to the 4th of July fireworks spectacular out at Lake Ray Hubbard. Don't be jealous of the ways we lived it up in good old Garland. We would put out our four matching lawn chairs in respective sizes to our place in the family, largest for Dad, smallest for little sis, and enjoy all that a fireworks show monitored by a local fire department could offer.

Unfortunately my parents had a quirky habit. About 10 minutes before the show would end, during the climax when all the fireworks were exploding at the same time, they would grab us, grab our lawn chairs and throw everyone in the car and hightail it back to the highway.

"What are we doing!?!" I would wail as I simultaneously tried to crawl into the little space between the backseat and the rearview window to catch the last glimpse of fireworks I could.

"Trying to beat the traffic. I don't want to be stuck for two hours trying to get out of this place for a 30 minute fireworks show," my Dad would reply.

Sadly I'm not making this story up. After our quick escape my parent's usually appeased us by taking us back to the house where we were allowed to run through the backyard with flaming torches called sparklers until we were reminded it was after our bedtime. Of course they were quickly forgiven.

But if I only had known as a child of seven that one day... I would be living in a country that for the last 8 days straight has released fireworks almost 15 hours a day, sometimes beginning at 7:00 am, and sometimes lasting until 12:00 pm...a country where residents in our apartment community release fireworks from the courtyard below our living room windows and sometimes from their own living rooms windows...a country that has as far as I can tell no fire codes or fire marshals monitoring official fireworks shows let alone private displays... a country where our friend recently said an average person could spend almost 20,000 rmb on fireworks during the average holiday season... Well if I could only know then what I do now, I probably would have just buckled my seat belt and told my Dad to get a move on it.