Nicole and I were nearly jumping on the beds we were so excited to check into the Victory Hotel in Guangzhou. We were starting to feel like we'd spent our entire lives at the Gloria Hotel in Nanchang. Actually, I'm glad I experienced Nanchang, but our hotel room was tiny and there just wasn't that much to do when you don't know that language and don't have any transportation.
So now we're in Guangzhou, which is very Westernized and no one gives a Westerner carrying a Chinese baby even a second look. It's pretty touristy, with lots of cutesy shops that cater to adoptive parents. Every adoptive parent must go to Guangzhou for a few days because that's where the U.S. Consulate is--and that's were you get your baby's passport. The streets here are wide and almost no one drives on the sidewalks, which is kind of nice for a change. There are also big, fat ficus trees growing along the streets and palm trees, too.
I nearly had my first meltdown of the trip today, but managed to pull myself out of it before I had a tantrum on the street: I was out of formula, but not overly concerned about that since there are about a million adoptive parents here. I assumed every other store would have formula. Wrong. If you want pink squeaky shoes or a lady bug dress or cheap hunk of jade to wear around your neck, this is your place. But formula and rice cereal? Nope. None. I was hot and lugging Willa around and asking for formula and no one knew anything about formula. As I was wondering around, the shopkeepers were coming out on their stoops to give me the hard sell on baby clothes. I just wanted to shake them and I say, "I don't want any freaking baby shoes. My kid needs formula!!!!!" Finally, I stumbled by the lobby of the White Swan, another hotel that caters to adoptive parents. I went into the lobby, found a cluster of Americans holding Chinese kids,and blurted out, "Can somebody he! lp me find formula!" I felt like a freaking idiot, and I really thought I was just going to cry if somebody didn't help me. Fortunately, a woman that I knew from my hotel in Nanchang took pity and pointed me toward a grocery store. I was so traumatized, I bought far more rice cereal and formula than I'll ever need on this trip, but I felt the need to stockpile, just in case. To calm my nerves, I also grabbed handful of chocolate bars.
Willa did great on the plane trip, which was nice. She laughed and smiled at everyone. She also made a huge poop that scented the entire cabin. I tried to be cool, like it was not my kid who did that terrible thing, but I squirmed a bit as I watched the nostrils of the people around me start to flare. It's my impression that the Chinese are not as sensitive about sh**t as Americans are though. Odors, they seem to handle.
Bad thing about the Chinese: they drive on the sidewalk.
Good thing about the Chinese: they're not afraid of sh**t.
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1 comment:
Your descriptions are so enjoyable, even the awful parts. The characterizations of Chinese culture and comparisons to Am. culture are sharp and memorable. I look forward to reading these entries.
Congrats on surviving your mini-meltdown. Squeaky shoes but no formula? ARG!
I shouting at strangers (Chinese) twice bc staying in a country where I couldn't communicate(speak; read the labels; understand the traffic, etc) was disorienting. "Stop staring at me!" I shouted in an overstimulating grocery store, like the one you described in Nanchang and in an airport where officials took away our stroller.
Maybe the Chinese in GZ are accustomed to seeing Americans fall apart regularly. By the time you get there, you're worn out.
Did you at least find some latte after all this blew over?
Cheers,
Lizanne
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