Archive for May, 2009

There’s Nothing Like a Rickshaw.

Sunday, May 31st, 2009


Especially a rickshaw pulled by a creepy-looking, motorized pig.


About Face.

Friday, May 29th, 2009

Finally!  P is potty-trained.  Totally, completely potty-trained. I know, I know, she’s really, really old for this, but what can I say?  She was on the verge of reaching this milestone a year ago, but then her world was turned upside down with the arrival of a new sister, followed soon afterward with a move to the other side of the planet.  I figure P was given the perfect recipe for a little regression, so I can’t blame her too much.

What happened?  She simply decided it was time.  What was the impetus for this decision?  Was it the hours and hours of watching Potty Time with Elmo?  Nope.  Was it the thousands of bribes and threats her parents threw at her?  No, not that, either.  It was all about a loss of face, I think.


Hag of Honor and the Party Pooper.

Wednesday, May 27th, 2009

My teaching assignment for this semester was divided into two, eight week sessions, so I had one group of students for the first eight weeks and another group for the second eight weeks.  I ran into a student from the first half of the semester a couple of weeks ago and she said that she and some of her classmates had bought a gift and wanted to schedule a time to give it to me.  I was very touched and surprised by this, and we made plans to meet for dinner this past Sunday night.

I had assumed two or three students would be there, but here’s who showed up:


Freak Show.

Sunday, May 24th, 2009

Guess who is almost potty trained?  We’re so proud!  Check her potty-going self out!


Class Photos.

Friday, May 22nd, 2009

We got P’s class photos back yesterday.  Take a look.  Do you notice anything about P that makes her stand out from the other kids?



I’ll Have the Schnauzer…

Thursday, May 21st, 2009

…and my husband will have the chicken poodle soup, please.

I don’t know the name of the Korean barbecue restaurant where we had lunch today, but if I were the owner, I think I’d call it Best in Show.


Massage My What?

Tuesday, May 19th, 2009

I’m generally an anxious, high-strung person, so the idea of getting a great massage has always appealed to me.  Unfortunately, I’m way too cheap to pay more than $20 for one, so it’s likely no coincidence that all my massage experiences have left me even more tense than I was before I went in.  My first massage was at the famed Hotel Gellert in Budapest.  It cost $3.50 and involved me being forced to first take a cold shower and to then soak buck naked in a steaming “thermal bath” with 20 buck naked, elderly Hungarian women.  When I was finally ushered to the massage room, I was placed, still buck naked, on a long metal table, where I was hosed down by one husky woman while a second scrubbed me with a bar of soap that smelled a lot like Lifeboy.


P Hearts Wee P.

Friday, May 15th, 2009

Isn’t it obvious?


Mandarin King.

Friday, May 15th, 2009

I’d like to take a moment to brag about my husband. Just a few weeks ago, I witnessed him signal a server and attempt to ask for the check by shouting, “Mi fan.” Just so you know, mi fan means rice. A few days later, he tried to request a cup of coffee at the same restaurant by asking for “Sumei.Just so you know, Sumei is P’s best friend. I made endless fun of him for these linguistic gaffes, but I’m not laughing anymore.

This week, I witnessed the same man tell Ayi in Chinese, “We’re going to an art museum to look at art. We will be back home by 3:00. Is this okay?” Ayi immediately nodded and said it was no problem.

Dashan needs to watch out!

A Seed Planted.

Monday, May 11th, 2009

I often wonder how much P will remember about her time in China.  Given her age, it’s unlikely she’ll remember much.  Nevertheless, I’m certain the experience will have a long-lasting, positive effect on her.  First, being immersed all day in a Chinese school has allowed her to learn quite a bit of Mandarin.  She loves saying, “I speak a little English and a little Chinese,” and she’s beginning to be able act as our interpreter when Ayi needs to tell us something.  The other day, Ayi was going on and on about something that seemed relatively important, so I asked P to translate, and she said, “Ayi says Wee P’s feet are cold, and she needs socks.”  At the very least, Wee P and her feet appreciate P’s language skills.