Rob’s been asking me for awhile now to be a guest blogger on his site. I feel that he always has the best words, and is certainly far more entertaining than I am, so I’ve yet to take him up on this offer. Until now, because this post is about him.
You see, it seems that we now have an annual tradition for each November to bring forth turkey, stuffing, and major surgery. Last Thanksgiving he was recovering from reconstructive shoulder surgery after his scooter accident.
On Thanksgiving Day this year, Rob had part 3 of a root canal procedure. He called me from the dentist’s office because the dentist found something on his X-ray that they felt needed to be addressed at the hospital. Of course this worried me because it accompanied bad translations like “blood clot,” and “hospital, now.” It wasn’t a blood clot, but it wasn’t just a cloudy tooth either. A full day and a CT scan later, I get this text:
Okay, so yes I worry a lot. My mind immediately went to cancer. Because large grey growth that isn’t supposed to be there is scary. See that large grey circle where the arrow is? Yup. See why I was worried?
I’ll go ahead and get to the good ending now. it wasn’t cancer. But it was a full week of worry and recovering from surgery before we found that out. He was admitted to the hospital the next day, and they ran all sorts of tests on him for two days prior to his surgery date: more CTs of his heart, lungs, other organs, etc., more bloodwork, an EKG in which they had to shave his chest and wrists, endoscopies, of course COVID, etc. … all to rule out “other possibilities.” Oh, and because surgery was to be in the facial area he had to shave most of his beard. While doing that, I also had a COVID test done so I could get permission to visit him in the hospital. Thankfully, it only takes one day for results to come back here, so I got to visit on day 2. I was quickly greeted by a nurse upon my arrival who was eager to tell me to go buy him a proper nose hair remover because his nose hair was not up to surgical standards. I looked at her like, ‘say what now?’ Yes, she gave me a piece of paper with “nose hair remover” written in Chinese and told me to go find the store near another little store where they could give me one. I did not walk in to the right store at first, but a kind man directed me to the nose hair remover store, and Rob successfully got his nose hair to appropriate surgical length.
In order to have that thing removed they had to put him under general anesthesia and take it out through his nose. They also sent some of it out for a biopsy. Here he is right after:
When we did a video call with him the day after surgery Abby started crying because she was shocked by his black eye and bloody nose. His nose continued to bleed non-stop all week.
Throughout the rest of the week Rob endured a few more painful sinus endoscopies to remove surgery padding, clean out the surgical site, and put fresh dissolvable padding inside his face- wondering each day when he would be released from the hospital.
Meanwhile, I was only able to visit him twice this week because I got so incredibly sick with flu-like symptoms and was down for the count at home. I’m sure it was from the stress of it all. So I won’t be able to tell you all of the fun details of being in a Chinese hospital for a week. I’ll leave that up to him. I know it wasn’t fun. Finally, he was cleared to come home today! Although we don’t have official biopsy results yet, the doctors have told him from all the other tests and from everything they see, the growth looks to be benign.
So as usual, the Statons come out of situations like this on top. I feel like we’ve been able to prove time and time again we are resilient, so I’m not sure why these reminders need to keep popping up. Nonetheless, we endure. And this Thanksgiving, even though we had to cancel our little dinner, and postpone putting up the Christmas tree, it kicks off the Christmas season with an extra sprinkle of thankfulness for each other. I have a poster in my office that says “Nothing is worth more than this day.” It’s true friends. Now go hug your loved one.
Over my 10+ years of on again/off again travel blogging, I often find myself apologizing for months of no new content. So, yet again, I apologize non-constant readers, for my lack of new content. But behold, I now bring you a new blog post!
So what has my clan been up to the last 3+ months? Oh you know, same old same old. After our summer tour of China, we settled back into our hometown. My daughter had a birthday at the end of July, so we celebrated that by getting her some weird flamingo cake, a GIANT stuffed animal and, just as we did with my son, another visit the the trampoline park. Only this time, I forced my wife to join us all on the trampolines. Pro tip – wearing a skirt, even a long one, is not the best when jumping on trampolines. We ended the birthday festivities with a make-up tutorial and a sweaty dance party back at the crib.
August was mostly getting ready for Alanna and the kids to go back to school, though we did have our own sets of non-school related ups and downs. At the beginning of the month, we stumbled on two abandoned 15-day old kittens in a shoebox. Someone had left them outside our complex, in the rain. So, of course, we had to take them. We initially named them Mario and Luigi, but once we got them to a Vet, we switched that to Mario and Zelda for obvious reasons. The vet said the kittens were both sickly, had a few cat diseases and that he wasn’t hopeful of their survival, but we did our best to care of them anyway. They both seemed to be making great improvements but then about two weeks later, one of them faded and died, and the next week the other one did the same thing. Losing anything like that isn’t fun. It was hard on the kids, even though we thought we had prepared them by not giving false hope. In the end, we gave those two strays a warm, safe place to stay for their short lives. We are all okay with that.
Thankfully after that we focused the kids attention on family activities such as board games and outdoor exploration, as well as refocused them on getting ready to go back to school. China is pretty much in the clear as far as Covid-19 right now. Masks are worn on the school bus, but other than that, there is very little that’s different from anything that happened before the virus. Seriously, international schools are the bomb diggity. I’m sure there are plenty of bad apples out there, but the schools we’ve enrolled our kids in have all been pretty awesome. It also helps that I’m married to the principal of the school. I can send my complaints directly to her over dinner. The kids being back in school also gave me a little more free time, as my university didn’t really get up and running again until September. Even better for me, I am only teaching Freshmen courses this semester, and they didn’t come to campus until after the Mid-Autumn Festival in October. In addition to all the back-to-school prep, Alanna and I also randomly began to play in a pub trivia league. Our team came in 3rd the first time, and then we won the whole dang thing at the next event. Our prize? A massage package for both of us! Massages in China can be a bit extreme. Even though they started and ended with pomp and circumstance (some kind of hand washing ceremony at the beginning and a tea ceremony at the end), those massage ladies gave both of us a workover. I was sore for a week. We also celebrated my birthday in September as well. No big deal. 45. I’m middle-aged. Woohoo.
Before I got back to work, one of the university administrators retired. Her name is Mrs. Hu. No, I can’t pronounce it correctly. She was a nice lady that I rarely saw, but always smiled and spoke to me when we passed by each other. They gave her a retirement dinner and invited all of us to attend. I didn’t go to many of these functions last year for one reason or another, so I felt like I should make the effort for this one. Many of the Chinese staff I knew well were going, so I felt safe enough to give it the old college try – literally. They were even having it at a fancy schmancy hot springs resort. We weren’t actually going to the hot springs, just the hotel restaurant, but I did some scouting for Alanna, cause she will want to be going there soon. I bummed a ride with a co-worker to the event, as the chartered bus that they rented seemed like it was going to be crowded, and with our own ride, we could leave early if we wanted. So, we got there a little early and waited on the bus. I quickly knew this was going to be a little different of an occasion when the bus arrived and everyone filed off of it one by one. I learned from a quick looksie that I was the only white person in attendance. Everyone else was Chinese. Most expats are still stuck in their home countries, trying to get a visa and flights back to China. So there are a precious few of us working here in China, and I was the only one in attendance at the retirement party. Mrs. Hu came right up to me, thanked me for coming, and made some small talk about how our summer had gone. We then went inside. I tried to join my Chinese friends at their table, but then I was told that Mrs. Hu had requested my presence at her table. At this head table, sat basically what you would call a board of directors of the university. I really didn’t know any of them. I’m sure they make more money in one month than I make all year. They gave me a chair right next to Mrs. Hu and from there, the night got a little fuzzy.
Traditional Chinese dinners are served “family style”, with large plates of food being brought to our big round table. In the middle of the table, is like, I dunno… a lazy Susan type of turn table thing? So, they just sit the food there, and we all spin the thing around, using our chopsticks to grab portions and put them on our plates or in our bowls. I made sure to watch what everyone was doing first, as I am very cautious about doing anything stupid and breaking some unknown Chinese rule of eating. Apparently I was taking too long though, as Mrs. Hu just began to scoop things up with her chopsticks and drop them on my plate. I want to tell you about how amazing the food was. It really was. I think. But I wasn’t allowed to spend any measurable amount of time enjoying the food because of the constant toasting process. Everyone at the table individually toasted Mrs. Hu. They would say something in Chinese, and thankfully the Chinese professor on my left spoke some English and would give me a rough translation. So yeah, they’d toast, then we’d all drink. In between these toasts to Mrs. Hu, everyone at the table also came up to me, one at a time, and toasted me. Now, I get what’s happening. I’m literally the only white person there. I’m the elephant in the room. The white elephant. I had heard rumors of how the Chinese enjoy their drinking at parties like this and, truth be told, I was eager to see the process in action. So I took it as a bit of a challenge. I toasted everyone back. I drank every time they did, or they told me to. I am not smart.
Chinese drink a liquor called Baijiu. It is a clear grain-based liquor that is not unlike vodka or gin. Perhaps its a little sweeter. The “strength” of this liquor though is quite high on the old alcohol by volume list. Pretty much everyone at my table was drinking baijiu, but also had a glass of red wine. Neither of these glasses were ever empty, for as soon as you finished it, someone at the table or a waiter would immediately fill it right back up again. So yeah, each one of these distinguished guests came up to me, toasted me and made me drink their crazy Chinese alcohol. I would thankfully gain a small reprieve now and then as someone would come up with only their wine glass for a toast. But even then… you are… okay… I was… expected to “empty my glass” after each toast. The default toast in China is “ganbei” (sounds like: “gon bay”) which literally means “dry cup.” Yes, each time I would drink they would tell me to FINISH IT.
GANBEI! GANBEI! GANBEI!
There were also a LOT of people at my table. Honestly, I can’t tell you how great the food was, or even how memorable the hotel resort was due to the fact that the rest of the evening seemed a bit of a blur. I do sort of remember someone asking me to visit them in the their office for tea and another couple inviting me on their yacht to watch the pink dolphins. Thankfully I had a ride home and was no worse for the wear the next day.
I’m back at work now full time, no online teaching for me. Live classrooms are so much better. I helped run the Freshmen orientation program this fall for the university. I spoke at Convocation. They even invited my better half to give the keynote speech at a special conference day. It’s a LOT of work. Imagine your normal college orientation program, but with students who have never spoken English on a regular basis. Most Chinese students are taught English from a very young age. While their reading and writing of the language can be okay, their speaking and listening usually aren’t, because its just not something you practice. So looking at those kids faces on the first day of class, knowing many of them can’t understand what I’m saying, can be quite the challenge for both professor and student alike. One of my courses this semester is your general Public Speaking class. One of the first class exercises I do is an eye contact lesson where each student stands in front of the class, makes eye contact with 3 different people, and says…
One Mississippi…
Two Mississippi…
Three Mississippi…
Look, I can’t speak Chinese. Like, at all. Every time I try to say something in Chinese, people give me the “huh?” look, or many times just laugh at my mispronunciation. So, I may have had a little bit of sick satisfaction listening to ESL learners try to pronounce a word than many Americans rarely even spell correctly – Mississippi. Chinese pride themselves on being perfect. And for them, this was such a hard word. Most of them stumbled through the exercise at best, but seemed to enjoy themselves when I made them understand not to take the exercise too seriously and just have fun. So, yeah… we’re back in the swing of things here in China. Heck, I even have a Chinese volleyball tournament I’m in next week. I was in it last year. We lost all 3 of our games. This year though… probably the same. Who am I kidding? Hey, you folks in the US of A, errr… good luck on Tuesday. I’m very happy NOT to be there. Y’all take care.
China. Two Weeks. Over 3000 miles traveled. Terracotta. Disney. 2nd Tallest Building in the world. Tropical Beach. I’m tired.
Our summer vacation, which we began setting up in the fall, turned out to be drastically different than we anticipated. Thanks, Obama. Kidding. But really… Thanks, Covid. Let me just preface this post by saying though – we actually had a summer vacation. Most people probably aren’t getting one, so we are very thankful for our situation.
Our original vacation plans were to travel to Italy and France this summer. I even had an inkling of a notion to slip over into Spain and run with the bulls. And the… Covid. Currently, we can’t even leave China. If we do, like many of our colleagues, we won’t be allowed back into the country until who knows when. So, we scrapped any out of the country plans. No going to Italy and France. No going home to the US for a few weeks. We can’t even go to Hong Kong or Macau, which are technically part of China. Plan A was a European vacation. Plan B was an American vacation. Onto Plan C… a Chinese vacation. Which of course, turned into a Plan D.
Plan C was simple – hit up all the touristy Chinese vacation spots – The Great Wall, Terracotta Army, and finally Shanghai… cause you know… Disney. My better half does all the planning legwork. I just sit back and argue about it when she brings up an idea I don’t like. She quickly had us lined up for Beijing to visit the Great Wall, but then it fell through. There was a “flare up” of Covid in Beijing and we were warned to steer clear. So we did. Maybe next year for the Great Wall. We then moved to plan D – Which would be Xi’an (Terracotta Army), Shanghai (Disney and tour Shanghai), then there was an option to visit Sanya, which is a tropical island in southern china for some beach R&R.
Before our trip could begin, we decided to teach two weeks at my wife’s school for a summer camp. Cause… they would pay us. So even though I can barely tolerate my own children sometimes, I signed on to teach a whole butt load of them. Two weeks of crazy humidity and crazy, but surprisingly well-behaved elementary children later, we were done, had pockets full of cash and were ready for our summer adventure to begin. We had a few travel options – one of them being by train. China has an extensive rail network with bullet trains, sleeper trains, all that jazz. And we’ve never taken a train as a family. Yes, we travel all over and back again and have never been on a train (Subway doesn’t count). Did we take the train this time? Nope. Maybe next time! We had some people tell us and read some reviews about their train experience, so we decided against it, for now. And besides, flights are DIRT CHEAP at the moment. I mean, DIRT CHEAP. The wifey found us some super inexpensive seats to Xi’an, and we were on the plane bright and early on a Monday morning.
This city has some history. It has, on multiple occasions, been the capital of China, since its founding around 200 BCE. They even have a WALL around the city. No, it’s not the original wall, but a re-constructed 14th century version of it. So, it’s not an ancient wall, but a Medieval wall. It still looks really cool. We stayed in a hotel that was a stone’s throw from the wall. We had only planned 2 days in Xi’an, though now I wished we would have had more, if nothing else than to eat all the delicious food there. There’s also a Muslim quarter, which came because Xi’an was a major hub of the Silk Road. There are three main streets (more like big alleys) that we walked through – food and collectibles abounded in this area. We also visited the Drum Tower – which has all the drums that were used back into the day to signify things, such start of the work day, end of the work day, storm approaching, etc. The drums were huge. Modern technology has made them obsolete but it was still neat to see them well preserved.
Day 2 of Xi’an is when we headed out to the Terracotta Army. Its about a 45 minute trip out of the city, but our taxi driver got us there in under 30 because he drove like an absolute maniac. We were totally confused when we got there though – where to go, where to buy tickets, do we pay in cash, do we need masks. We finally got all sorted out and then headed inside the giant complex. It’s a nice 5 minute walk from the road, through a lovely park area, and then you arrive at the “pits”. There are four of them, each at different levels of excavation. Pit 1 is the most famous, and largest, with mostly everything already excavated. The other pits are in various forms of excavation, with some of the pits only half way completed. It truly was an amazing experience, a must-see for anyone who is into history. The army was buried with China’s first emperor in 210 BCE. Yeah, like a long time ago. I won’t bore you with more history, but this was one of the main things I looked forward to when we knew we were going to be living in China. It did not disappoint. And to make our son happy, there’s a McDonald’s at the complex. But they didn’t have Chicken McNuggets. How can you be a McDonald’s and not have McNuggets???
After another night in Xi’an, we packed up and headed out uber early for our flight to Shanghai and Disney. Traveling right now is kind of hectic. China is broken up into provinces (think States), and each province or sometimes city wants you to have a special health code that they can scan on your phone to make sure you’re Covid free. You basically scan a QR code, fill in your information and you’re good to go. It’s not that simple though as most of the time the language is in Chinese or it’s just confusing in English.
We had to show these QR codes everywhere – getting on planes, coming into a hotel, going into Disney. We “thought” we had it all figured out as we waited in line at our gate to board our flight to Xi’an. We get to the dude that scans our tickets and he tells us to step aside for a moment. And then we were racially profiled. For being White. Or American, one or both I dunno. Even though we had our QR codes, and my wife even had a printed note (in Chinese) of where we live/where we’ve been, they still grilled us about everything. It was awkward and annoying, as everyone on the flight was staring at us like we had a disease. In retrospect, it was a mild inconvenience and pales in comparison to what other people go through all the time. So I’m not complaining. Silver lining – when we take these flights, my better half sits in a three seat row with the kids and I’m stuck sitting with strangers in the row across. On one of the flights, the two ladies beside me weren’t too happy sitting next to me, and in fact, waited until I had finished my plane-served snack and put back on my mask before they took off their masks and touched their food. But on another flight. I was sat next to a Mom and her son. As I looked over to my son to give him the Vulcan “live long and prosper” sign, the Mom and her son laughed, and then commenced to trying to make the sign with their hands. Through broken English/Chinese, I schooled them in the ways of the Trek and as I left the flight, we exchanged a Live Long and Prosper salute to each other.
We made it safe and sound to Shanghai and were whisked to a Disney resort to spend a few nights. Covid compliance is in full effect though, so we had to mask up pretty much everywhere on Disney properties, there are no meet and greets with characters, no fireworks, no parades. Other than that, it was Disney as usual. Well… Chinese Disney. At Hong Kong Disneyland, mostly everything is bilingual – in Chinese and English. Not so much in Shanghai. While the signage around the park has both Chinese and English, all the performances, rides, voice-overs were all in Chinese, so there were plenty of times when we just smiled and had no idea what was happening. Again though, it’s Disney and it’s fun.
Here are some highlights of Shanghai Disneyland:
Disney Hotel guests are allowed into the park a full hour before the general public. This let us knock out a whole section of the park each morning before it got crowded. Worth the money.
TRON Lightcycle was a blast. It replaces Space Mountain. You sit on motorcycles in this roller coaster and go both inside and outside at a fast clip.
Camp Discovery. It’s a ropes course. Yeah, I know… a ropes course. I’ve been on plenty, they are all basically the same. This one was awesome. It’s built around a Disney made mountain with waterfalls. There are three different trails you can climb around on. Each trail has different “levels” of ways to go. So, if you’re like my wife, you can take the easy route each time and just walk across simple bridges. Or, if you’re like me and my son, you can literally climb around a cliff edge against a waterfall as water is splashing down on you. This was by far my son’s favorite thing he did at Disney and a total surprise at how fun it was for me.
Blue Frog – Best restaurant we ate at while at Disney. There was a Cheesecake Factory close by, but we opted for this place and thankfully made the right choice. This spot had plenty of western options for the kids. The burger I had was excellent and my wife was able to curb her Mexican food craving as well.
Pirates of the Caribbean ride – Pretty cool experience. You sit in a “boat” and go through the different POTC movie experiences inside a huge indoor facility. They spent a lot of money here as the special effects were top notch. But in true fashion, the ride seemed to have a hiccup half way through – it stopped and we sat in mostly darkness for about 5 minutes before it started up again. They did make some kind of Chinese announcement, but we had no idea what it was about. I blame my wife. She broke a ride at Hong Kong Disney too. That’s her super power – breaking technology.
We rode pretty much every ride and saw most of the shows at Disney, but as this isn’t just a Disney Post, I’ll leave you with those highlights and of course pictures.
After a few days, we checked out of Disney and headed to downtown Shanghai – to the best hotel we’ve ever stayed in. I am not in charge of our finances, so my wife could have paid a fortune for all I know, but this place was the bomb. Have you ever tried a bidet? So here’s the thing. I lived in the UAE for a year. In our bathroom, there was a seperate bidet that sat next to the toilet. I never used it though, other than to wash my feet off. Well, this boujee hotel in Shanghai had one built into the toilet. The toilet seat was also heated, which is literally the smartest idea ever. Back to the bidet – it had a remote on the wall next to the toilet. You just pushed it, it did the business, and even dried you. The western world is missing out on this amazing device.
So, Shanghai. It’s the NYC of China. But cleaner. In 2010, we went to the world’s tallest building in Dubai. Shanghai has the current second tallest building, the Shanghai Tower, so we had to hit it up as well. The observation deck of this building is even higher than the one in Dubai. We did this on a weekday as well, so it wasn’t as nearly as crowded as it could have been. While it was a little overcast, we could see everything pretty well and enjoyed our ride to the clouds. We also heard there was a Taco Bell near our hotel. We got kind of excited. Is Taco Bell the most amazing thing ever? No. But, when you haven’t had some of it in a year, it’s a nice treat. So We headed over… and… it was closed. But wait! There was another location. We ordered for delivery and also got Papa John’s for the kids. We all gained 10 lbs from this experience. We also visited an aquarium while in the city, which is what tourists with kids do. I wish I could have stayed longer in Shanghai, if not for anything other than the hotel’s bidet.
Our final destination was Sanya. We left it as an option, but gave it the green light when we heard back from some expat friends who had a blast there. Sanya is a beach town on the island of Hainan in Southern China. It also happens to be on roughly the same latitude line as Hawaii, so well… we were in. We booked it last minute, so our hotel, although still pretty nice, was the last one we could find on short notice. Long story short – the pool was amazing, the views were spectacular and we still found western fast food for our kids. The only bummer was the watersports. The dude running them would only allow me on a jetski if HE went with me. I turned him down. But still, Chinese Hawaii was a great way to end our trip.
After two weeks and 3000 miles of travel, its good to be back home. We still have the rest of the summer to relax before our schools start up again, in whatever capacity Covid will allow.
A few years ago, for Father’s Day my wife bought me a DNA kit from 23AndMe. I did the swab test, sent it in and waited about a month for the results. When the results came back, they confirmed what I suspected all along – I was white. Not only was I white, I was 99.9% European. Like… very white. The bulk of my ancestry is British & Irish, with a scattering of French/German and some Scandinavian to boot. Here’s the statistical breakdown of Rob –
I’ve been interested in “where I’m from” for quite some time. But it took me until my 40s to stop being lazy and delve into my distant past. I had some help. A “history of” book about my family name was written in the 1960s. It covered present day (at that time) all the way back to the Middle Ages in England. So, I grew up with this book. It even said we originally were called Staunton and that we owned a castle in Northern England. But once the information age rolled around, some of this “history” quickly became outdated. And by outdated, I mean false. We didn’t own a castle. In 2010, I visited this castle. It’s beautiful. Everyone there was nice to us. They gave us the grand tour and we felt like VIPs the entire afternoon. But my ancestors never owned this castle. They did, however, have a tower in the castle named after them. That being said, I had no authority to usurp ownership of said castle from the present-day occupants, The Duke of Rutland and his family. I took the named tower as a consolation prize though.
The family history book, though well researched, was a product of the time. The writer, a distant cousin, did the research the old-fashioned way – visiting places, writing letters and making phone calls. My father and sister were much more interested in our family history about 20 years ago, back when I was a college student and only cared about chasing girls all over campus. Dad and my sis, on the other hand, took a quick jaunt around North Carolina, visiting the graves of my grandfather, great-grandfather, and my great-great-great grandfather, Captain Frederick. There’s a small family graveyard in Anson County, NC where quite a few of my ancestors, including Captain Frederick, are buried. I finally took this same trip with my wife and children a few years go as well, visiting each grave and taking some pictures. The land surrounding the cemetery in Anson County was owned by my ancestors, but fell out of the name many years ago. It was even up for sale and I was trying to think of a way to buy it so I could preserve the family heritage. I even have a VERY cool set of pictures – one of my Dad 20 years ago, and then me in the same spot a couple years ago.
Recent events however have given me a different perspective on heritage. Living in China and watching from afar as Covid-19 began to cripple the United States was horrible, but for me, it paled in comparison to what has been happening in the last few weeks. Race has suddenly become the most important hot button issue of the year – and for good reason. If you’re reading this, pretty much anywhere in the world right now, you know what I’m talking about – racial injustice. As I watched the news, the protests, and spoke to friends and family, I started to wonder where I, the whitest of white guys, fit in during all this. What role should I play? What role could I play? I couldn’t protest. I’m in China. There are no protests here to attend. Instead I supported my friends who were protesting – mostly privately though social media messages letting them know I loved them and supported them. That’s all I’ve really done though during this whole thing – support people privately. I didn’t black out my FB profile picture on that day like many people did. I haven’t plastered my social media accounts with open anger towards injustice or unconditional love for those that are suffering right now. And I am ashamed of myself. I have basically done nothing except sit back and watch. And during this monumental moment in time, sitting back and doing nothing is the wrong thing to do. This shame propelled me to do some soul searching. It led me to re-evaluate many of my life choices – some that were good, but many that were bad.
Let me explain. When I thought about race and race relations this week, here are some of the memories that spilled over into my consciousness –
When I was in 5th grade at Wolf Meadow Elementary School, I saw a 3rd grader on the playground. His name was Kevin. Kevin was black. I saw Kevin kick a red rubber ball further than I thought anyone could ever kick a red rubber ball. Kevin, to this day is one of best athletes I’ve had the privilege of knowing. I went over to his house as a kid. I ate apples from a tree in his back yard. I didn’t see anything different about him, other than his vastly superior athletic ability. But after those few times at his house, I never went back. The only times I saw him were at school or on the ball field. I made no effort to get to know him on a more personal level. I did nothing. Thankfully I still call him a friend today, even though I didn’t put much effort into it.
A few years later, my father brought home a young black boy to our house to spend the night, just so he could be comfortable and play with my toys. That was what kind of man my Dad was. He would do spontaneous acts of kindness for people. The kid came from a poor family. They lived in an area I believe was called Silver Hill. Though many white people referred to it as N**** Town. I don’t think I used the term, but knew what it meant, and never corrected anyone else when they said it. Here my Dad was, being nice to whoever/whenever, for no other reason than because he knew that’s what a Christian should do, and there I was, doing nothing when it mattered most.
In my Freshman year of high school, I played football for the JV Team. No, I wasn’t very good. I also lacked motivation. And was scared to get hit. Every day at practice, the defensive backs would participate in a tackling drill. Basically, you had to get past one defender and then tackle the ball carrier. I rarely made it to the ball carrier, because I could never get past Corey. Corey was a Sophomore. Corey was bigger than me and way more athletic. Corey was also black. Even though Corey could dominate me anytime he wanted, he always encouraged me, even when he was knocking the crap out of me. When I wanted to quit those drills, he forced me to continue. He forced me to get better. I liked Corey from the moment I met him. Corey started dating a white girl that year. It was a huge scandal. Yes, even in 1990, decades after the Civil Rights Movement, a black dude dating a white girl was still a big deal. Many of my classmates didn’t like that Corey was dating a white girl. They called him names behind his back. They said it wasn’t right. Many of them cited the Bible as a reference for why it wasn’t right. I didn’t see the big deal. I liked Corey. I liked the girl he was dating. They seemed happy. But, when people said those things about the couple, I said nothing. I had no vocal opinion of my own. I did nothing.
College upended my way of thinking in many ways. For the first time in my life, I met an openly gay guy. He was a great dude. We even became roommates. His name was Rick. Many of my fondest memories of college involve Rick in some capacity. Yet, when I went home from college for the weekend during my freshman year, and someone asked me if I had a gay roommate, I said no. I lied. I didn’t want them to think I was gay, right? Rick was white. But Kris was not. Kris came to college a year after I did. Kris was black. Kris was gay. Kris was one of the most talented performers I had every been on a stage with. Kris had more talent in his pinky than I in my entire body. Both Kris and Rick helped me understand how to love someone who didn’t love exactly like I did. But when assholes called and left hurtful, ignorant messages on our answering machine, I just erased them and moved on. I tried to hide the bad things from my gay friends, in hopes that they would have it easier. I didn’t protest with them. I didn’t speak out on their behalf when they were wronged. I did nothing.
My Senior year of college I was a Residential Assistant. I was placed on a Freshman hall, with mostly black football players. I got along with all of them and we mutually respected each other. One night I heard screaming in the hallway. I rushed out of my door to see a black kid running down the hallway with a chair in his hand, getting ready to bash it over the head of a white kid. I intervened, put my body in between them, stopping someone from crushing someone’s skull in with a metal chair. The white kid had called the black kid a n*****. While I was able to de-escalate the situation, I did nothing else. I didn’t speak up for the black guy, nor did I confront the white kid and use it as a teachable moment. I just went back to my room and hid away once it was all over. I. Did. Nothing.
I did nothing for so many years. I’m still doing nothing. I worked with a group of amazing young folks for two years. I was their boss for most of those two years. Some of them were white, some of them were black. Some of them were Latino. Some were gay, some were straight. All of them were amazing. These young kids, still wet behind the ears in many ways, were the first people to march, the first people protest on Social media, and they haven’t stopped. They are relentless. These kids deserve a much better life. They – Jasmine, Taylor, Burns, Travis, Alyssa,Carter,CJ, Amanda, Aaron, Courtney, and the others I am forgetting to mention – they are warriors. Social justice warriors. They are heroes. They are the fighters. They are the ones who are going to make this world a better place. Watching them these last few weeks has made me want to do…. something. I still don’t even know exactly what the something is, but damned if I’m not going to try to figure it out.
This is the first part of my plan – opening up about who I’ve been and who I want to be.
I started this blog post talking about my ancestors. About my great-great-great Grandfather Captain Frederick. I even showed you a picture of his grave. That huge headstone/memorial honoring his memory. What I didn’t show you though, was this –
See those smaller headstones? Those small, seemingly insignificant gravestones… are slave graves. My ancestor was a slave owner. The man whose land I wanted to buy to preserve my heritage, owned… people. Because of the color of their skin. I always knew slavery was wrong. I also was ashamed of America’s past, yet I still wanted to pay tribute to someone in my family who OWNED PEOPLE. It doesn’t matter if he was nice to them. It doesn’t matter if he let them be buried on the same plot of land that he was buried on. That doesn’t change what he did, or who he was. That’s not who I am though. That’s not who my father was, thankfully. I was raised to love people, no matter who they are. That doesn’t change my ancestor’s past, but it forces me to forge a better future. I won’t be honoring my ancestors. The people who were forced into slavery should be honored, not their horrible white master.
If the first part of my plan was opening up, the second part has to be stepping up. I’m starting with baby steps, please forgive me. I’m talking to my black friends. I’m reading articles about racism. I am reading books by black authors. I am supporting black businesses. I am denouncing the systematic injustice black people deal with every single day. I am voting for change this November. I am donating to causes that directly support Black Lives Matter. Do All Lives Matter? Hell yes. But right now, Black Lives are the ones that matter most to me. Black Lives are the ones who are being targeted. Black Lives are the ones who are being wiped away simply because of their color.
Black Lives Matter.
I’m the whitest of white. I’m Whitey McWhiterson. Most of my friends are white. Some of my friends might read this and disagree. If you disagree with me, know that I love you, but this post is probably more for you than anyone else. I am no longer hiding behind my white privilege. I am no longer hiding in a foreign country until everyone else makes things better. I am here. I stand beside the oppressed. I stand in front of them, as a shield, from anyone who would seek to oppress them. Black Lives do Matter. Black Lives should Matter. And it’s time I did my part to make sure they do.
One of the many goals whenever the fam and I disembark in a new country is to obtain my driver’s license as soon as possible. So, it was the same when we moved to China. It just took a lot longer to actually obtain said item than any of us expected. Between Chinese regulations and a world altering plague, today I FINALLY got my Chinese Driver’s license, 9 months after arriving in the country and 4 months after beginning the process.
Did you guys know there’s a pandemic going on right now? You might have heard of it. Covid-19 or something like that. Yeah, it started here in China. Or you can believe the thousand other conspiracy theories out there. I’m pretty sure the second gunman on the grassy knoll was Chinese. The Coronavirus did put a rather large kink in my plans to get my license. By kink, I mean postponement. As in, hey nothing is open here in China so you can’t get anything done. On top of that, the whole “getting process” is a bit convoluted. Being a seasoned expat at this point in my life though, I was prepared for what I figured would be an arduous task, giving myself the whole fall of last year to understand how to do everything.
Here’s a recap –
In January of this year, we purchased a car! Yes, we got a car before I had a driver’s license. Yes, this is counterintuitive, but my MUCH better half Alanna found an incredible deal on a very old car, so we quickly swooped in and purchased it. The deal involved the family participating in a Chinese tea ceremony in which cigarettes and a free kitten were offered. We took neither, as all we wanted was the car.
In any case, after some wheeling and dealing, the car was ours and we took it home. By home, I mean our complex. Which was also a process. We had to register the car first in our name, then get it registered at our complex, so that the gates would open when we entered and exited. Finally, we also received a private parking spot, in the underground garage beneath our building. Ok, I don’t think it’s under our building. It might be under another building. It’s like some giant subterranean world down there.
So I had a car, but no way to legally drive it. But like I said, I’d been doing my research. And by doing research, I mean Alanna used her vastly superior brain to figure everything out and then told me how to do it. The process was time-consuming and I began it sometime mid-January. I first had to get some documents translated into Chinese – some official stuff, my US license and the like. Next, I had to go get a medical report. Yes, to get a driver’s license in China, I was required to go to Hospital Number 5 (Flashbacks abounded) and get a physical. They were mostly concerned with hearing and vision, which I passed according to Chinese standards. I also had to get some passport size photos taken. No, they don’t “take your picture” at the Chinese DMV. You bring your own pictures, which they use on the medical form, the actual ID and a few other important documents that I can’t begin to understand.
After about a week’s worth of paperwork, I finally had it all ready to go and could head to the Chinese DMV to get my license. And then… CORONAVIRUS. This was when everyone went into quarantine here in China. Everything shut down, and that included pretty much all government facilities, the DMV of course being one of them. Getting my license was put on the back burner for a few months at least. I did illegally drive my car inside our complex once, but that is the closest I’d come to actually being on the road in anything more powerful than a scooter at this point in our China experience.
In late April, as businesses were slowly opening up here in my neck of China, there was hope (wishful thinking) that the DMV was opened as well. Since Alanna was physically working at this point, I urged her to speak with her Chinese colleagues about such a DMV opening opportunity. To our great joy, these nice colleagues said that the DMV was open! Hooray! I immediately gathered up all my paperwork, got a driver and was taken to the DMV. Which was closed. Not open. The guards at the gate of the place told my driver (who translated it to me) that the DMV was not open, had no idea when it was going to open, and they couldn’t quite understand how we didn’t know such a thing. So, with my head hung low, I headed back home and began the waiting process all over again.
Fast forward to the third week of May – in which Alanna’s colleagues informed us that now they were SURE the DMV was open, and that I could go apply, finally, for my Chinese Driver’s License. I grabbed a driver and was shuttled back to the DMV, which this time, thankfully, was open! Oh, but the story doesn’t end here. Not in China. The process is always a little more difficult than it should be. On this first successful trip to the DMV, I was allowed only to make an appointment, so that I could come back to the DMV at a later date in the week to take the test to get my license. After they checked my paperwork, they gave me a few other papers that I would use to pay, and also make my appointment with, which had to be done on WeChat, when I left, and it was all in Chinese, and I was thoroughly confused. Once I got home, it didn’t even work right that evening, but the next morning, with the help of one of my Chinese friends, I was able to successfully make the appointment. I made the appointment for a few days later and began to study for the test. The test is just a written exam. Those that have a license from another country don’t have to take a driving test. The written test though, I had to take. It is 100 questions, 40 which were agree/disagree and then 60 which were multiple choice. You have to make a 90% or better to pass this test. I wasn’t worried. I’m Smarty McSmarterson. How hard can it be, right? I found some similar tests online. Most of the questions seemed pretty straight forward and involved just being safe on the road. I would pass this test with flying colors. Right? Wrong!
I arrived at the DMV last week to take my test. It was raining, I was confused on where to go, but there was one nice lady who worked there that spoke English. As soon as I walked in, all the people working yelled for her to come help me. She told me the process:
Step 1 – Go to the second floor of the next building and put all your personal items in a locker.
Step 2 – Go to the third floor of that building, show them your paperwork and passport and they will set you up with the exam.
Step 3 – Take them exam. If you don’t pass, you can immediately take it again.
Step 4 – Go back to the second floor, get your stuff from the locker, then go watch a video.
Step 5 – Get your license.
I headed out, not remembering half of what she said. I did find the second floor of the next building. Seeing a bunch of lockers in the area kind of told me I was in the right place. Everything’s in Chinese though. I sorted it out – I had to push a button, which gave me a ticket. Then, one of the random 100 lockers would pop open. I put my stuff in the locker, closed it, then I would scan that ticket when I came back to open the locker. With my stuff put away, I headed up to the third floor to take the test.
They checked me in, and through what I can only describe as grunts and sign language, they asked me if I wanted to take the test in Chinese or English. I decided to take the test in English, since, you know, I don’t speak Chinese. Then they gave me a number – 93. I turned around and there were at least 150 cubicles, each with a computer inside them. I would say that half of those cubicles on this day were already occupied. I waded through the rows until I found number 93, then sat down and began my test. It’s all done on the computer, by just clicking a mouse. There is also a camera monitoring you the entire time, which you can see as you take the test. At one point during the test, I was keeping my hand up by my face because wearing a mask gets annoying. One of the DMV fellows came by, and in a very loud voice and broken English shouted “HAND DOWN”. I suppose he thought I was cheating, as if I had the answers written on my hand.
Side note – they used to cheat on the test back in the day. Originally, there was no English version. You just paid someone who knew Chinese to sit and take the test with you. What that really meant – you paid someone else to take the test. You didn’t even need to know anything. They did the whole thing for you. But not anymore, I had to pass the test all on my own.
Back to the test. It started out with most of the same type of questions I expected- the ones about safety and being a nice and courteous driver. But then, about half way through the test, it veered dramatically in a totally different direction. Suddenly the questions were about how many penalty points you would receive for specific violations, or what was the speed limit on an unmarked two lane road in the country, or what kind of sticker should be on your vehicle for the car to be legally driven. I had never studied nor even seen any of these types of questions. So, after I finished my test, I saw that my score was 80. Which was 10 points less than what I needed to pass. Oh, but I had a second chance immediately! And I didn’t pass again. I made an even lower score that time. I shuffled out of the testing room, made my way back to the second floor, retrieved my personal items, then headed to the other building and back to that one lady who spoke English so she could tell me what I needed to do. The lady was nice and explained that I could just retake the test in a couple days. I would have to of course make another appointment when I got home, on WeChat, in Chinese, but by now I am practically an expert at such trivial things.
Clearly though, I needed a study guide for this test, as with those type of questions I was severely underprepared for during attempts 1 and 2. An expat colleague had taken the test in early January and had passed, so I reached out to her. She led me to an app I could download. This app had all of the 1000 possible questions that could fill the 100 question exam I would take. It provided a nice way to study, gradually getting me to the point where I was comfortable with all the questions.
Alanna’s favorite question – It is not safe for a woman to wear high heels when driving. Agree/Disagree. The correct answer was agree, but we loved how the question was only directed at women So, if I wanted to wear high heels while driving as a man, then it would be perfectly safe according to the Chinese law.
After spending the rest of this week studying the questions on the app, this morning, a Saturday, was my next scheduled appointment. As we were waking up this morning, we were under a Red Rain Warning. That means, according to my wife, some kind of typhoon-like precipitation was in our area. Oh joy, that’s a good start to the day, Apparently, if this type of warning happens during the week, school is cancelled. But hey, DMV would be open right? I know what you’re thinking, but thankfully the place was still open and not flooded when I arrived. The only thing that was different on a Saturday was that it was much more crowded than during the week. Let my clarify though – while there were a million (that’s an over estimation) people there, China is super efficient. There’s no waiting outside in a line and spending 5 hours at the DMV like my previous experiences in the good ole’ U S of A. I went through the same process – I checked in, dropped off my stuff, headed to the test room (pretty much every cubicle was occupied this time) and took my test. Which I passed. The first time. 94% That’s an A. It’s not an A+, but I was never an A+ type of student so I’m happy with the results.
Step 4 – The video
With the test over and done, I headed to step 4, which was to go watch a video. Now, I’d been warned about the video. It’s a graphic, real-life video meant to scare the bejesus out of you to make sure you drive correctly and safely. I remember such things like that in my driver’s education course in the 90s – “Blood on the Highway”, I think it was called. But Blood on the Highway would have been considered a G Rated movie compared to the NC-17 horror flick I was forced to watch today at the Chinese DMV. I won’t get into the gory details, but… wow… they showed everything, multiple times, in slow motion, and zoomed on certain parts that they wanted to emphasize. This video was all in Chinese of course, so I had no idea what was happening, only just watched the graphic images and scenes that it showed… over and over again. During the video, a DMV official came around to everyone to check paperwork. I didn’t have the same paperwork as everyone, so I was a bit worried. But after we translated to each other through our phones, he told me to stay in the room after the video was done and he would get me sorted out.
Pledge of Allegiance to China to be Safe and Honorable Driver
After the video, one the DMV dudes got on a microphone and told (I guess. I don’t speak Chinese) everyone to stand up. I think this was the “Pledge of Allegiance to China to be Safe and Honorable Driver” part of my day. We all raised our right hand, balled it into a fist and placed it close to the right side of our head. We all then had to read out loud some paragraph on the wall. Yes, it was in Chinese. I just stood there, thankful for once to be wearing a mask as the 100 or so other new Chinese drivers read the pledge. We all agreed to something at the end. I think I’m probably a member of the Communist party now. I’m really not sure what was happening. Everyone else left, but I stayed behind and did what I was told. The DMV dude pointed to some symbol on the wall.
The Symbol
He told me to go back to the first building, find that symbol and then go the window there to pick up my new license, in a few hours. So I did that. I found that symbol. I sat down and waited. And it only took about 15 minutes before they told me that Luōbótè’s license was ready. Luōbótè – that’s my Chinese name. It kind of sounds like Robert, but with an L. It’s written as 罗伯特 in Chinese. I had to write it like that a few times. I am totally not good at Chinese.
Anyway, here it is. My license –
I now have my very own, totally official, was a breeze to get – Chinese Driver’s License. I plan to go out and drive all over my adopted city. When it stops raining of course.
I know I should blog more, but I haven’t. But… here is an awesome dude/friend/pal/amazing fellow who had me on his podcast to talk about all that’s happening. Give it a listen!
Before I get to anything else, let me go ahead and update you on the one thing most everyone asks us about: We are perfectly safe, happy and healthy here in China. The actual risk of any of us contracting the Coronavirus are very minuscule. That being said, since the outbreak began in early January, we’ve been through a series of unfortunate events that I surmise will be fun for you to hear about.
Okay, first things first – a quick Coronavirus timeline for the uninitiated. And please forgive me if this information is slightly inaccurate –
DEC 31. At the end of last year, doctors in Wuhan, China were treating dozens of cases of what they thought was pneumonia. Days later, those same doctors figured out it was a little more than your typical pneumonia.
JAN 11. The first person dies from what is being called the Coronavirus. The 61 year old man was a regular at a wet market in Wuhan. Wet markets here in China are large open food markets with fresh meat, seafood, fruits, veggies and all kinds of other assorted food… things. The markets in my city are pretty similar, with the most unusual things you can buy to eat are turtles and eels. They are alive. Yes, you buy them like that. Then you take them home and do the deed. The Chinese like their food really fresh. The Chinese like many eastern Asian countries, enjoy a variety of fresh exotic foods – like snake and bats. The rumors are that the virus started with a bat, or a snake, that was eaten by a bat or snake, who passed the virus on to the other animal, and then THAT animal was sold at the Wuhan Wet Market , which in turn was passed on to some unfortunate human being. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. China is pretty closed off about information, going in or out. I’m pretty sure they just let the CDC in the country last week, a full month after this whole fiasco began.
On with the timeline –
JAN 20 – First confirmed cases outside of China in South Korea, Japan and Thailand.
JAN 21 – First case reported in the United States.
JAN 23 – The city of Wuhan, which has over 11 million people, was quarantined by the Chinese government. I mean cut off, like… you can’t leave. Go out of your house. Imagine that happening in the US? Ya’ll would go crazy. For reference, in case you’re freaking out and are worried about our location, we’re about a 12 hour drive south of Wuhan. And that’s just a tiny part of China.
JAN 30. – The World Health Organization declares a a global health emergency as there are thousands infected in China and many others in different countries.
JAN 31 – Major airlines stop service to China. The US restricts entry to the US, imposing a 14 day quarantine on people coming from China. By this date 213 people had died and nearly 9,800 had been infected worldwide.
FEB 2. – First Coronavirus-related death outside of China.
FEB. 5. – Hundreds, mostly Americans, were evacuated from Hubei Province and a cruise ship in Japan is quarantined.
FEB. 7. – A Chinese doctor, who tried to warn others, died from the coronavirus.
FEB. 10. – The death toll in China surpassed the number SARS killed worldwide. 40,000 people have been infected.
And on, and on and on. I’m tired of writing the timeline. Since this blog is about us, let us rewind and tell you what WE were and have been doing during all this.
When the whole shindig started, Alanna and I were on holiday from work. Chinese New Year was almost here and the kids were out of school. We had planned on spending a good part of the holiday in Hong Kong, just to get away from the mainland for a bit. We had just began to hear the ramblings of some virus, somewhere in China. Heck, I had never heard of Wuhan until all of this, and I live in China. Everything was still pretty normal where we live as we left China on Jan. 23 and headed to Hong Kong. Sure, some people were wearing masks, but with the air quality here in China, some people are always wearing masks.
We had a great two or three days in Hong, doing our normal touristy stuff – We visited a beach where found a 3000 year old rock carving, visited Hong Kong’s favorite son – Bruce Lee, spent some quality time in a Cat Cafe, and most importantly ate amazing food, minus the Pizza Hut and McDonald’s orders for our kids. But as we watched the news in our hotel room, we began to see the scope of what was happening. And it became quickly apparent in Hong Kong, as within only a few days EVERYONE was suddenly wearing a masks. We also heard rumors that it was now mandatory to wear masks back in our home city. So, we bought masks, or the 4 masks that were still in stock. Many reports today say that these masks really aren’t all the effective. I mean, they aren’t actually tight over your mouth and nose. Those little virus particles can get in. But, we wore them whenever we went out. At any rate, it made us stand out much less than we used to, so… bonus.
By the time the weekend had rolled out, we were getting ready to head back to the mainland, because we were expecting at least Alanna and the kids going back to school. I still had a few more weeks left before I returned. That never happened. Schools all across China were postponed from starting back, and pretty much all businesses began to shut down, save for grocery stores, pharmacies and restaurants. As we traveled back to the mainland, the temperature checks began. At length. This would sometimes happen randomly during a border crossing in China. Now… it was happening at every border crossing. And at the hotel, and at our gate of our complex.
Chinese officials were urging everyone, even in our city, to just stay indoors and avoid contact with people pretty much as soon as we were back in town. We really didn’t have a ton of food in the house though those first few days back, so we ventured out to the closest restaurant within walking distance – Burger King. The city at this point already looked like a ghost town. No one was around, except for security guards, police, a few people here and there, and those poor suckers who had to serve us a Burger King. Of course, we were the ONLY customers there. Normally during lunch time, its packed to the walls. Not that day. and not since.
The next day we took a trip to Sam’s Club. Yes, they have one here. And though its quite different from the American version, it usually allows us to stock up on a bunch of stuff. Not so much this time. You know when they predict a light dusting of snow and there’s no bread and milk on the grocery shelves? That’s how it felt at Sam’s Club. People were scrambling for the last best meats, the eggs, all the good stuff. Or at least the good stuff that we liked. There were still plenty of noodles.
At the beginning of February, the virus was in full swing, and Alanna and the kids were in the midst of online schooling. The Chinese internet is a bit… restrictive here, so anything online is going to be fraught with difficulties. At this point, we were looking at options for getting out of China. There was always a quick vacation destination nearby, such as Korea or Thailand, and we also discussed just making the long haul back to the States to wait all this out. In the end though, we came to the conclusion that, for now, staying put was best for our family. And by staying put, I mean we were going to hang out in Hong Kong for another week. So on Feb 7, we headed back across the border. Hong Kong, unlike mainland China, still has mostly everything open. No, Disneyland and most of the large public tourist destinations are closed until further notice, but the malls, restaurants and the like are all in full swing. So even though everyone walking around with a mask on and worrying about dying, or you know, China pressuring them into being more like China, most Hong Kong people are carrying on their day to to day lives.
Yes, this elderly couple is doing Tai chi with swords.
We stayed in Hong Kong until Feb. 12, doing the same things we normally do – relaxing at the hotel, eating great food, all the jazz. Biggest bummer this time was that, because of the virus, the hotel’s amazing hot tub and pool were closed. We’ve been back (stuck) in our city in China since the 12th. Cabin Fever is a real thing. More restrictions continue to be piled on us as the days go by. We all tried to walk to Burger King one day early last week, and on the way there, they told us only one person was allowed through this makeshift gate. So only I went to BK that day. They are doing this, from what we’ve heard, to restrict too many people in public areas. I mean, really. If they would have left my wife and kids, there would have been a total four 4 people in that area instead of just me. This past week has been more of the same. We are in somewhat of a routine now. We get up and make sure the kids do their online school work, we play games, we run around the house, we listen to music, I clean things because I’m bored. We have watched a LOT of TV and movies, catching up on many things we missed. Alanna says Parasite was just okay. I didn’t watch it. I did watch 1917 though, and Alanna agrees with me that it should have won Best Picture over Parasite. That’s saying a lot as Alanna’s least favorite genre of entertainment is war movies.
We’ve heard rumors just today of a new restriction. They are closing our “side gate” to our complex. Its the gate we can walk out of to get to Burger King. Now, if we want to get to Burger King, we’ve have to talk about 20 minutes out of the way to get there. Also, there’s rumor that only one family member is going to be allowed out of the complex at a time so they can monitor who is in and out. We’ll see how that goes if it happens. At this point, they’ve also shut down mostly all the restauraunts, save for a few that will only do take out.
Hey… thanks to each and everyone of you for reaching out to us. It does mean a great deal to know we have so many of you who care about what happens to our crazy nomadic family. Honestly, to us, it feels like a “first world” problem. We are terribly inconvenienced by what is happening, but it could be a lot worse, and IS a lot worse for a lot of other people. We are thankful for our health. We are thankful for each and everyone of you. And, at least at this point and time, we are thankful that Burger King is still open. For take out.
After our Pre-Christmas in Hong Kong, we came back home to the mainland for Santa’s imminent arrival. We started with Christmas Eve at the kids’ favorite spot to eat – Mr. Pizza. We ate outside, no one else was there, took some pics and had their perfectly average food. After dinner, we treated the kiddos to a movie at the local cinema. We hadn’t been to this one, so we didn’t know what to expect. Somehow they talked us into buying some kind of VIP discount program when we got our tickets. I have no idea what it actually does, but we did get free drinks and popcorn I think. The popcorn – was caramel corn. They had no option for regular buttered popcorn. Weird. I would have preferred the regular version, but the caramel corn was fine and there was no other choice. We saw Frozen 2, in a theater that was about oh… 100 degrees. I’m not lying. All of us were roasting. We made it through the sweaty adventure, then headed home, tucked the kids in bed, and then wrapped up all the presents that Santa would soon bring them. Christmas morning was magical as usual for the kids. They got plenty of what they wanted and seemed to enjoy themselves.
For Christmas Dinner, we tried out a new BBQ restaurant. It “looked” like a really neat place, so we wanted to give it a go. We got there right as they opened for dinner and were one of the first to be sat. Then, it took them 15 minutes to take our order. Then it took them about 45 minutes to bring Alanna her drink order, which was 10 minutes after we’d finished eating our meal. Speaking of the meal, it was nothing to shake a stick at. I mean, yes, the food was actually on a stick, and you could shake it if you wanted. But I didn’t. I just ate it, sans shaking. The food was fine, but nothing special, and definitely not worth the wait. We spent the next day at home preparing for our next excursion – none other than the Chinese version of Las Vegas – the city of Macau.
Here is your quick history lesson about Macau, courtesy of the greatest source of factual information known to mankind…err…. Wikipedia: Macau was formerly a colony of the Portuguese Empire, after Ming China leased the territory as a trading post in 1557. Between 1557 and 1887, Macau was governed by the Portuguese under Chinese sovereignty and authority. In 1887, Portugal was given perpetual colonial rights for Macau. The colony remained under Portuguese rule until 1999, when it was transferred to China. As a special administrative region, Macau maintains separate governing and economic systems from that of mainland China.
Macau quickly became a resort city, with Casinos popping up all over the area. Now, I called it the Chinese Las Vegas, but if anything, Las Vegas should be called the American Macau. Its gambling industry is seven times larger than Las Vegas. Its like Vegas, but on performance enhancing drugs. All the big casinos you know are there – The Venetian, The Parisian, MGM, etc, and then there’s all the international and Chinese ones as well. Also, there are no prostitutes soliciting you for nookie as there are in Vegas. That was a plus, as I did not want to have to explain why girls was dressed like that to my children. But yes, gambling… everywhere. The thing is, my wife and I could care less. Sure, we’ll drop some cash in a slot machine, or sit at a roulette table for a bit, just for fun. But it’s totally not our thing. Thankfully Macau also has a very rich history of tourism with their Portuguese ancestory, and this was what I was most interested in seeing. Now don’t get me wrong. We visited the casinos. We gambled a little. The number 23 hit for me a few times on the wheel. I think we left the casino floor up, more times than we were down. And by up, I mean like… 30 bucks or so. We’re obviously not high rollers.
This was also our 12th wedding anniversary so we thought we’d celebrate it with a lovely date night. Nothing goes as planned though, right? First our babysitter was late. Then we couldn’t get a taxi. Then we naively thought we could just walk into some nice restaurant with no reservation. We finally ended it up at some buffet spot. While there was nothing romantic about it, the food was good so I can’t complain too much. We gambled a little here and there, then took some lovely pics outside of the Parisian. They also had those boat ride things inside the Venetian. You know, down the river, while someone paddles you along with a stick? Once we took a good look at it though, we decided it was more of a tourist trap rather than a romantic adventure.
That date night was really our only foray into the gambling world, as we spent the next few days exploring the Portuguese history side of town. The highlight of the area is the Ruins of St. Paul, a 17th-century church that has seen its unfair share of fires. The only thing that really remains is the southern facade, which draws every single tourist in the area to take pictures. It was worth wading through the crowds though, both for day and night pictures. On New Year’s Eve, they even projected a light show on the facade. I’ve spent NYE in many different countries, and this one was pretty high up on the list.
We spent the first few days of 2020 wandering the streets of historical Macau and eating every delectable thing we could get our hands on. I have to include McDonalds and Pizza Hut in that list, because well, kids. I did get to try some of Macau’s dishes that were a foodie favorite. One was a pork chop bun, which I had twice since it was so tasty. I went back to the same little spot to get it again, and the owner used me as advertisement to attract other customers. I did my part. We also had an egg waffle. It’s an ice cream cone made of egg, and then they dump the ice cream inside. Even the kids liked that one. Alanna and I also slipped away from the kids one more night to eat at a VERY nice restaurant that was in our hotel. This was totally more of a date night place, and the food was amazing, both in terms of presentation and actual taste.
Overall, we loved Macau. It had such a warm, inviting feeling and you felt like you weren’t in an Asian country anymore, if just for a little while. It’s pretty easy to get to as well, so I think we’ll probably head back there quite often.
We stayed mostly low key for the holidays this year. Well, as low key as we can get for our unusual family. We split the last few weeks into two trips – the first to Hong Kong, and the second to Macau, with Christmas right in the middle at home. We had to be home for Christmas, right? I mean, that’s where Santa brings all the presents. And Kevin (our Elf on a Shelf) was there, right?
Let’s tackle the Hong Kong Trip in this blog. From where we live, there are a few ways to get to Hong Kong – with the two most popular being a one hour ferry ride or a one hour bus ride over the longest (over water) bridge in the world. We’ve traveled both in the past, and I can’t say I really have a preference. Okay, maybe riding on a ferry is cooler, so I guess you could say that is my preference. This trip we took the ferry to Hong Kong. And for those of you who are interested, here’s what I typical family trip on a Ferry looks like for us:
Yeah, so that’s our typical ferry ride. Abby is overly excited. Logan is on his tablet, and Alanna? She usually has motion sickness. For the record, she didn’t actually throw up.
The Ferry dropped us off at the HK port where we moved as quickly as we could through customs, though it seemed to take a little longer this trip than most. Yes, HK is part of China. But yes, you still have to go through customs. It seems like people around here don’t like all this rigmarole. Maybe they should protest it. Oh wait, they are. Currently. We avoid that political mess though and move along with our vacay. We stayed at a lovely hotel on the northern part of Hong Kong called Kowloon. We had specific goals in mind for this trip. My main goal? See the new Star Wars Movie. So my kick booty wife booked a hotel that’s literally connected to a huge mall with a cinema. Goal accomplished. And I don’t care if you didn’t like the new Star Wars movie. We all enjoyed it. I got emotional.
My kick booty wife also has 3 kick booty sisters, and one of them just happened to arrange to hang out with us in Hong Kong. Sho (that’s her name) is a bit of a go-getter, so after raising funds by participating in a triathlon in Bali, she and her awesome BoFro George headed over to HK to spend time with the fam. We hit up the typical tourist destinations around the hotel, including the mall, a street with nothing but flower shops, a street with nothing but birds for sale, and then a street with EVERYTHING EVER CREATED for sale. You know, cause its Hong Kong. Sho even sprung for childcare at night so we could all have some adult time. We had some fantastic Sichuan cuisine (hot food) while hitting up the most expat area of Hong Kong, then ended up a local spot for after dinner drinks.
Sho and her Bo headed back to the States and the rest of us continued to relax in the hotel pool/hot tub and/or visit more touristy destinations. We hit up a monkey park. No, not a zoo. A park. Its just a large wooded area with trails that happen to sport a lot of wild monkeys. We didn’t stay long, as these monkeys weren’t the most friendly of creatures. They kept yelling at me when I tried to take pictures. And they even blocked our path in the road at one point. Do they thing they own the place or something? Privileged monkeys! We also took more strolls through the city, finding more weird streets filled with weirder things – like an entire street selling tropical fish and other sea creatures, all in a bunch of plastic bags filled with water. Just pick what you want and take ’em home I guess! We also visited Victoria’s Peak while we stayed in HK, which is the highest spot in the area and offers amazing views. Of course, the day we went it was overcast and the views weren’t spectacular, but still pretty neat. They also had some kind of Monopoly museum/amusement park… thing.. at the top. We didn’t pay to go in, and were pretty confused about what it was even after reading the brochure. We left the peak with a few cool souvenirs though. Okay, we left with two fidget spinners and ONE cool souvenir – a hand painted picture of our family names in Chinese Characters. So touristy but a nice addition for our family’s collection of stuff from around the world.
And on our final full day in Hong Kong, we did what parents do to make their kids happy – Disney. That’s right, back to Disneyland Hong Kong. Since this was our second visit in just a few months, we knew the routine well enough. We hit the rides we wanted pretty early, making sure to do anything we missed last time. I am happy to say it went smoothly, no one was sick, and no child had any major breakdowns. I call that a success.
OK, I’m tired of typing. I’ll fill ya’ll in on Christmas festivities and our trip to Macau next time. I have spoken.
Oh.. wait! Outback! Yes, we went. It was of average taste, smaller portions and pricier than the States, but hey… steak and cheese fries, people!
Most readers of this blog probably also follow me on social
media so you know that I’ve been on the struggle bus for the last month and a
half with a severe shoulder separation and the death of my father. I’ve slacked
on the blog as I’ve spent most of my time recovering from surgery and managing
out the mourning process. Here’s a recap
of what happened.
As October drew to a close, we were preparing here in China
for Halloween. Alanna and I were going
as Mario and Luigi, since… they are cheap costumes we could buy online. The kids were all set to be the captains –
America and Marvel. A few days before Halloween,
I received the news from my sister that my Dad wasn’t doing well. He’d fallen a few times and all signs pointed
to a stroke. After getting him to the
hospital, the stroke was confirmed and then it seemed he had another stroke
while he was there. At that point,
everything seemed to go downhill quickly for Dad and doctors ultimately came to
the conclusion there just wasn’t much more they could do but to make him
comfortable. This meant moving my Dad to
Hospice. For those of you that don’t
know, hospice is just a place where you go to die. They make you as comfortable
as possible, try to manage the pain as best they can, and its generally, or at
least in my Dad’s case, is a better way to pass rather than being in a
hospital.
In the middle of all this happening, I was having some
problems of my own – namely a separated shoulder. I joined a Darts League here
in China just to get me out of the house some more. I am below average at the game, but it lets
me socialize and have a beer or two, so I figured it was a good idea. I’m in a solo league and a team league. We played in a team match Wednesday before
Halloween. It went pretty late and I
made my usual way home on the scooter.
It was dark. The scooter does
have a light, but if you turn it on, it drops the power of the scooter by 50%
and it goes much slower. My better half
has told me not to ride at night.
Apparently, I need to listen to her.
About half way home that night, the front tire of my scooter hit some
kind of hole and I was launched over the handlebars and down to the asphalt at
about 15 miles per hour. I tried to
brace myself with my hands, but they quickly gave way. I was lucky my head
didn’t hit the ground, or it would have been much worse. The only thing that
DID make first, solid contact with that asphalt was my right shoulder. I rolled around a little bit, felt a little
sick, but got back up, found my flip flop about 20 feet away, then got back on
the scooter and made my way home. The pain really didn’t hit me until I got
home. Everyone was mostly asleep, so I
slipped into bed, mumbling to my wife about how I was fine when she asked how
the night went. I spent the rest of the
night in agony as I tried to get in a position to sleep in that wouldn’t hurt
my shoulder.
When I figured out how to get out of bed the next morning, the pain was excruciating. Alanna immediately noticed something looked off about my shoulder, even with a shirt on. When she made me take off the shirt, well… a picture tells the story…
Yes, that’s my clavicle sticking up in a way it was never meant to be.
While all that is happening is when my sister called to let me know about my Dad. I needed to come home to the States, to see him before he passed. And here I was with some kind of nasty injury. I freaked out a little. Alanna freaked out a little. She immediately sent me to the hospital. Ah yes, the Chinese hospital experience again. Same hospital as before. I met with the same English-speaking nurse on the VIP floor and she took me to get X-Rays. The X-ray tech used an app on his phone to move the machine all around me, so that was kind of cool. Once the pictures were taken, the nurse took me to see a doctor who would look at my results. He didn’t speak English, but as soon as he touched my shoulder and felt the bone sticking up, he made the universal “Oooohhhhhh……” sound that lets everyone know, in any language, that there is something definitely wrong. From the examination of my shoulder and the x-ray scan, the doctor concluded I had grade 3 separation of my AC joint – which means that all the tendons holding my clavicle in place were torn completely apart and nothing was holding that bone down anymore.
The doctor recommended immediate surgery. His plan was to admit me to the hospital right then and there, stay through the weekend and then have surgery early that next week. I asked some questions, such as “So how does this surgery work? Do you put me to sleep? What is the recovery time?” You know, all standard questions. To my shock, the doctor said they he would NOT put me to sleep. He would just numb my shoulder, then cut open my shoulder, put some pins in my bones and pull everything back in place… all while I’m awake. Like, my right ear is right there, listening to whatever he would do to my shoulder.
I called my wife, and had her talk to the nurse. My father’s situation was explained to the medical staff and how having surgery right now wasn’t going to be in the cards for me. I asked them if I was ok to fly home. They said no, I shouldn’t fly. They weren’t too worried about further injury, just me being in pain. I told them that’s what I had to do though. I mean, come on. It’s my Dad. My hero. They got me a very flimsy sling and put it on my arm to keep it slightly immobilized. It still hurt like hell, but it was the best they could do I suppose. They also gave me some kind of pain meds – that did absolutely nothing. It made no dent in the pain whatsoever. So, I was sent home against medical advice. This was actually on Halloween. My lovely wife, who was already slammed busy at her work with Halloween festivities, was also slammed busy making my travel plans with my sister. Even the folks at my work were helping look up prices, figure out the best routes, out of the kindness of their hearts. It would be just me, with the injury. I had to leave my wife and kids in China. We were able to get me on a flight early the next morning, but that was the only good thing about the trip. Flying was horrible. The China to the States flight, no matter which way you go, will always be about 13 to 15 hours… straight. That’s just from the major flight hub of China to a major hub in the U.S. That doesn’t count the connecting flights and layovers. The average travel time for me is about 24 hours of flying and layovers. And I had a separated shoulder. And my seat didn’t even recline on the 14-hour flight. My shoulder throbbed the entire way. There was no chance to sleep. An abundant amount of turbulence on the long flight only made matters worse.
My brother-in-law picked up my battered self at the airport and drove me an hour to see my father, but first dropped me off at the ER to have the U.S. Docs take a look at my injury. They came to mostly the same conclusion as the doctors in China – a separated shoulder that would require surgery. The only difference in their diagnosis was an upgrade in the severity of the injury. It was a grade 5 AC separation, not grade 3. Grade 5 is the most severe I guess. Anyway, they referred me to an Orthopedic Surgeon as soon as he could see me, which would be early the following week.
I saw my father for the first time the next morning. While he wasn’t able to open his eyes or really even speak, I am confident he knew I was there. He perked up just a bit when I spoke to him and that did give me some comfort. I spent that day and night in hospice with my Dad. His breathing only got more labored and it seemed like it was just getting harder and harder for him. The ladies there told me he wasn’t in any pain. My sister came back the next morning and after checking on my Dad, the doctor gave us the news. He had about 48 hours left. This shocked us. You just assume you have more time. You assume that it will drag on longer. But that’s all there was to it. The doctor was very nice, told us what to expect, but nothing quite prepares you for watching someone you love die. I have been very lucky in my life, and have been spared going through that, until now. My father continued to fade through the next day, and the next morning, the doctor was sure that my father would pass sometime soon. She was right. My father passed away later that day. I sat there, right beside him, and held his hand as he took his last breath. It haunted me. It haunts me. The only comforts I have is that he was in no pain and I got to see him before he died.
His funeral was that next weekend. I gave the eulogy. Here’s what I said –
My father died on a Sunday.
It was
the most appropriate day to pass away. As it was the creator of all things’
custom to rest on theSabbath, so was it with my Dad. His Faith was of the utmost importance to
Gene Staton. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and that heart always led him
straight to God. He wasn’t a silent Christian. Oh no. My Daddy was a loud
man. If you ever attended a church
service with my father, you knew where he was as soon as the organ, piano or
worship band began to play as he clapped, cried, said Amen, and generally
praised the Lord with more outward passion than anyone I have ever known. On
Sunday, my father got a very loud ovation as he ran, not walked through those
Heavenly gates.
My father
died on a Sunday.
It was a
beautiful, sunny autumn day. Perhaps my
father’s favorite time of year. Not very hot, not too cold, but just right. Dad
enjoyed being outdoors when it got dark a little earlier, and you had to
remember to throw on an extra layer before leaving the house. The fall classic had just ended, and that
young 18 year old pitcher put his glove and ball away for the season. He always found something else to do
though. Sitting in a tree stand for
hours being silent didn’t quite stick with me, but for my father, it was a
welcomed reprieve from working on the docks for 30 years. Not that he ever
neglected his family though. Autumn was family time, where he wrapped each one
of us in a blanket of love that lasted through Thanksgiving, Christmas and into
the new year. Every year.
My father
died on a Sunday.
Lazy
Sundays were always a good time to hear some stories. And boy, did Dad have
some Doozies. Here are just a few – A co-worker once bet my father that he
couldn’t eat every single sandwich from a vending machine in one setting. That
co-worker lost. Dad couldn’t afford to attend ballgames at Webb field as a
child. So he snuck inside each time by crawling through drainage pipes. While
hunting, Dad fell out of a tree stand and broke his leg. The doctor put a cast on and told him to take
it easy. Dad went back to that tree
stand the very next day, with a plastic bread bag wrapped around his cast. Better safe than sorry, right? Dad was
drafted into the Army, thought he never claimed to be a veteran. That’s because
when he got to basic training, they found out he was a ballplayer. They plucked him out of training, and he
spent the rest of his military days travelling from base to base playing on the
Army baseball team. From smoking rabbit tobacco, to having a run in with the
law because he was too hungry, my father always, always made things interesting
in his own special way.
My father
died on a Sunday.
And
that’s why all of us are here. Dad was
larger than life. He never met a stranger. He’d smile and wave to anyone he
saw, no matter their race, color or creed. And if they struck up a conversation
with him, they’d either end up with an amazing story they could share with
others or a tract telling them all about how we all have sinned and come short
of the Glory of God. And to those people
who knew and loved him? He would help them at the drop of a hat. When I was still a child, my Dad befriended a
young African American family in Concord who were having serious financial
troubles. He preached to them, clothed
them, fed them, and taught me a very powerful lesson about unconditional love
when he brought home that family’s young son to spend the night with me just so
that little boy could play with some really neat toys. These are the kinds of
stories my Dad would never EVER tell you, but they are the ones I want you to
hear. It’s the way I want his friends
and family to remember him.
My father
died on a Sunday.
And it broke us in half. If my mother was my heart, then Daddy was surely my soul. And that’s what we’re really made of isn’t it. If you believe… a heart and a soul. My mother provided for me with a loving, nurturing heart, and Dad, he gave me, and everyone else, his soul. That soul left us on Sunday. You may not believe in such things, and that’s ok. But I do. I felt it, felt it leave this place. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my Daddy, my hero, and his soul, are in a much, much better place. When my mother died, I talked about her kindness and challenged everyone to be like her. Well now, I challenge you to be like my Dad – bare your soul. To your family, to your friends, to complete strangers. Show people what you’re made of. My Daddy surely did. And I believe we are all a little better for it.
During the week leading up to my father’s funeral, I had my appointment with the Orthopedic Surgeon. For some random doctor that I was referred to in Hickory, NC of all places, he couldn’t have been better. He was genuinely concerned about everything I was going through. He gave me options and in the end his recommendation was surgery. Thankfully, he didn’t want to put any metal pins in me. He’d also put me to sleep for the whole thing. He even scheduled himself to work an extra shift so he could squeeze me into surgery a few days after the funeral. The surgery went just fine. No metal, just cadavers. Yes, Cadavers. Dead people. It’s all the rage I guess. They used a cadaver graft instead of metal pins to pull my clavicle down and hold it back in place. What are cadaver grafts you ask?
Cadaver Graft
Grafting tissue, including skin, cornea, or bone, obtained from a body immediately after death.
So now I have someone else inside me. I’m pretty sure this is how the zombie apocalypse starts, or how I get framed for murder through DNA evidence. In any case, the surgery went off without any problems and I was sent home in a much better sling and some major pain killers to recover.
For two weeks, I basically lived in a recliner. I really just wanted to get back to China, but I had to at least wait for the follow up appointment to get the stitched out and make sure everything was still OK with the shoulder. The doctor took out the stitches at that appointment and gave me the OK to fly back to China. This type of surgery requires 4 to 5 months to heal – meaning, I can’t really get my arm above my head for awhile and have to do a lot of physical therapy. The doctor set me up with a recovery plan, which I can do all on my own, cause I didn’t want to have to go to a Chinese hospital once a week. I got a flight out to China two days later. I missed out on Thanksgiving because I was flying over the North Pole. The pain was still terrible, but at least my seat reclined and my movie selection was acceptable.
I’m back in China now, with my family, where I belong. I took my sling off after four weeks of my arm being immobilized. My shoulder still hurts a lot, pretty much all the time, but it’s getting better, slowly but surely. I’m back at work now for a few weeks, and then I get a 2-month break. Yeah, my job is pretty nice right now. I miss my father. I still think about him multiple times every day. He will always be with me. I have an amazing support family though – my wife, my kids, my sister, my brother-in-law. They all give me a reason to get up every day and put a smile on my face. I’ll talk to you next week. We’ll be in Hong Kong to start the holiday break, watching Star Wars and stuffing our faces with Xiao long bao. Oh, and there’s an Outback steakhouse nearby. I can already smell Aussie Cheese Fries…
