The Free Radicals: Once in a Lifetime 一辈子一会

You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
You may find yourself in another part of the world
You may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
You may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife
You may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?
-The Talking Heads

Back in 2012, I wrote in my first blog post, “So here we are, at the brink of our once in a lifetime opportunity: a move to a foreign land, with a foreign language, with foreign customs. And we can't wait.” (See Once In a Lifetime.) We sold our house and our cars, and quit our jobs. I gave up high heels and birdMAN his golf clubs. We packed two bags each and headed to China. We were excited. We were anxious. We didn’t know what would be in store for us.

What was in store? A lot of puzzling situations. For instance, why was it that every time I needed to pay for electricity inevitably there was some kind of hiccup? Either the place to buy electricity was closed, or the computer wasn’t working and you just had to come back later (later on, online electricity payment eliminated that issue). Buying electricity sometimes ended up involving several trips over two days.

While a lot of annoying stuff happened and challenged my western world sensibilities, and at times being away from friends and family was hard, we loved living on the other side of the world. After the pandemic erupted and forced us to take up US residence once again, someone asked me what I missed most about China. I thought for a moment and felt my chest brimming with nostalgia and emotion. The answer was clear. The people.

People. That’s why they were there.

For instance, let me tell you about Li Jie. She lived in a single room with her husband. Her room was flanked by identical rooms, which housed workers like her. She had a single water spigot for cleaning. The water came out cold. The public bathroom was just across the way, as well as a communal kitchen with a large sink for cleaning dishes. Undoubtedly, she was familiar with her neighbors' habits, and they with hers. They could see right into her place every time nature called or a pot needed rinsing.

This a hutong alley-- not Li Jie's but you get the idea.

Her hutong was behind a hospital where she spent most of the week in the hospital bathroom. Yes, she was the bathroom lady. I always thought being the bathroom lady was the worst job anybody could have. If you ever smelled a typical Chinese bathroom with its trash cans overflowing with used toilet paper, you might agree. But Li Jie was grateful for the job. Like many hardworking country folk, she came from outside Beijing to work and would send money to her family. Her 4 (or 5?) children lived apart from her in their hometown. Her school age children lived at a school dormitory and came to Beijing during vacations. Then that single room of the hutong across the way from the public bathroom would house four people.

She was rail thin with stringy waist length hair and wizened skin that aged her far beyond her years. She spoke Mandarin Chinese with a thick accent that I didn’t understand. Her life had been hard.

Somehow, somewhere Li Jie met one of our intrepid and loving friends. So she became our friend. That’s how one day, a Korean couple, a Japanese couple, an American couple (us) and an Italian man, ended up at Li Jie’s place for lunch.

We must have been quite the spectacle as we parked our bikes at the entrance of the hutong. We were a bunch of foreigners that clearly did not come from that part of town. We had gleaming white teeth and name brand backpacks purchased abroad. We had come from our respective apartments on the other side of the canal. In comparison to the hutong, our apartments with their mismatched furniture, cozy kitchens, and private bathrooms seemed like pure luxury. Our apartments were in high-rise buildings that were within walking distance of fairly prestigious universities and Starbucks. Li Jie’s neighborhood, although not far by bike, seemed like a different world.

We foreigners paraded down the walkway to Li Jie’s place. On the way, we glimpsed past the patterned curtains and through the open doorways into people’s homes. Each place was packed with a hodgepodge of blankets, clothes, and boxes. Red banners lined the doorways with the Chinese characters for wealth and luck. We got whiffs of garlic and the bathroom at the same time.

Li Jie welcomed us into her home with a warm smile and a feast set on small fold out tables. birdMAN and I perched on the bed barely noticing the concrete walls wallpapered with newspaper. Others sat on mismatched stools perhaps borrowed from the neighbors. Despite having a good sized window, the room was dim. The window faced a narrow alley and the light was blocked by the building and hanging laundry. The sounds of chatting neighbors, flushing toilets, running water, and playing children floated in and surrounded us.

Our host had gone to the butcher that morning and had ordered a chicken for slaughter. Not one piece of chicken was wasted. Every part except the blood was cooked into a soup or stir fry. She doctored up that chicken with garlic and onions. It was delicious. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember how easily we foreigners conversed in Chinese with sweet Li Jie.

A meal prepared by Li Jie at a later time. She made true egg rolls--
pork filling wrapped in cooked egg.

When Dumpling was born, Li Jie delivered a big pot of
米酒 (rice wine porridge) and a ton of eggs to me.

This experience, and many more like it, happened because back in 2012, we decided to make a BIG change. So thank you for being with us for the last ten years of this blog. I started this blog to document our life abroad, but our wandering days are over–for now at least.

But there is much, much, much more to come. Raising a child in the ever changing 21st century is a continuing adventure.

Chinese Word of the Blog: 一辈子一会 Yībèizi yī huǐ
English Translation: Once in a lifetime
Chinese Word of the Blog: 去中国生活是一辈子一会的。Qù zhōngguó shēnghuó shì yībèizi yī huǐ de.English Translation: Living in China is a once in a lifetime experience.

Here are some pictures and IG posts from China. Oh nostalgia...