Beijing and Thanksgiving
I lived in Beijing, China in 2007 for a few months. We left Las Cruces, NM and flew into the bustling airport of Beijing in February and came home in July. Ian studied Chinese language on a study abroad. I kept up my masters degree classwork online. It was so stressful.
Naively, we went relying on the college to help us with housing, but once we got there we were informed that there was no married student housing. Students in China are not allowed to marry while going to college. We were homeless in a place where I was completely reliant other people to take care of me. I was taking care of my first baby. She was nine month old, and I was newly pregnant with baby number two. I was sick. I was super hungry, and finding food was kind of hard and confusing. Grocery stores weren't plentiful, transportation was difficult, and we didn't know where things were. It was cold. So cold. We lived for a couple of weeks in a motel that smelled like smoke because smoking outside isn't law in Beijing. We ate every single meal for an entire week at a Korean restaurant around the corner. For breakfast I had salted seaweed, rice, and a boiled egg. I was not a fan of the sea-weed at first, but after a few days, I realized it was a flavorful addition to the plain rice stuff and boiled egg. I found it delicious. I would feed my baby the rice soup as much as she could eat, and I would eat the egg. We had stir fry for lunch and dinner with sweet potatoes cooked on our table. I thought I might have to live in that hotel room indefinitely.
After the first two weeks, we found an apartment within walking distance of the school. I found a job teaching English a few times a week. We found someone to take care of our baby while Ian was in school and I was teaching for an hour or two. Language was such a hurdle for me. I am a very social person, and even when I was with people, I was unable to talk to them. Everything was different in Beijing. We had to prepay for our electricity on a card. Food was purchased at the market, or I had to take a bus 15 minutes away to the big grocery store. Cross-walks did not work. Cars kept going even if there was a person there. I had to learn how to tell taxi-drivers where I lived. I learned the name of the college I lived by and then I could say, right, left, right in order to get home. It was so stressful.
Anyway, while I was at home on the bed of the apartment taking care of my baby, and not feeling well from morning sickness, I would tell her all about Thanksgiving.
"Baby girl, one day you will have Thanksgiving. There is turkey. When I was little my Grandpa Bryant would smoke a turkey with mesquite wood and it tasted so good. And there are mashed potatoes with gravy, and delicious pies. There is pecan pie, and pumpkin pie, and banana cream pie, and cherry pie, and coconut cream pie, and there are chocolate pies. There are rolls with butter. So much butter. And sweet-potato pie with pecans and marshmallows." I would go on and on about the wonder that was the Thanksgiving feast. It seemed like a wonderland compared to my cold apartment with a few potatoes on the counter, no oven in my kitchen, and a constant struggle to find food I knew how to prepare.
Today we are having our first Thanksgiving with just our small family. We are watching the snow fall out the window all day, while we are warm inside with nowhere we need to go. My little girl who was a baby in China peeled every single potato, and her sister made place markers for us all with the letters of our names in the shapes of animals and flowers. We have a giant turkey in our oven that brined in our sink overnight. I have an oven to bake rolls, and a store where I easily purchased ingredient just yesterday for sweet potato pie. I called my mom for my sister-in-law, Mandy's sweet potato pie. We were in the same time zone, so she answered right away and gave me the recipe. My little boy is snuggled under a blanket my Aunt Suzie made us. Sweet Aunt Suzy who buried her husband this week. We spent a Thanksgiving with them just two years ago. It was a very fun day where my kids learned about stuffing, and how they don't like it. Uncle Allan was an entertaining host who made so much turkey we were filled to the brim. My four year old is wearing her signature look: a swimming suit, and we are watching a cartoon with little elves that I have never seen before. I understand every word. We only have one pie, and not as many side dishes as some of the Thanksgiving parties I've been too, but it is a wonderland.
Naively, we went relying on the college to help us with housing, but once we got there we were informed that there was no married student housing. Students in China are not allowed to marry while going to college. We were homeless in a place where I was completely reliant other people to take care of me. I was taking care of my first baby. She was nine month old, and I was newly pregnant with baby number two. I was sick. I was super hungry, and finding food was kind of hard and confusing. Grocery stores weren't plentiful, transportation was difficult, and we didn't know where things were. It was cold. So cold. We lived for a couple of weeks in a motel that smelled like smoke because smoking outside isn't law in Beijing. We ate every single meal for an entire week at a Korean restaurant around the corner. For breakfast I had salted seaweed, rice, and a boiled egg. I was not a fan of the sea-weed at first, but after a few days, I realized it was a flavorful addition to the plain rice stuff and boiled egg. I found it delicious. I would feed my baby the rice soup as much as she could eat, and I would eat the egg. We had stir fry for lunch and dinner with sweet potatoes cooked on our table. I thought I might have to live in that hotel room indefinitely.
After the first two weeks, we found an apartment within walking distance of the school. I found a job teaching English a few times a week. We found someone to take care of our baby while Ian was in school and I was teaching for an hour or two. Language was such a hurdle for me. I am a very social person, and even when I was with people, I was unable to talk to them. Everything was different in Beijing. We had to prepay for our electricity on a card. Food was purchased at the market, or I had to take a bus 15 minutes away to the big grocery store. Cross-walks did not work. Cars kept going even if there was a person there. I had to learn how to tell taxi-drivers where I lived. I learned the name of the college I lived by and then I could say, right, left, right in order to get home. It was so stressful.
Anyway, while I was at home on the bed of the apartment taking care of my baby, and not feeling well from morning sickness, I would tell her all about Thanksgiving.
"Baby girl, one day you will have Thanksgiving. There is turkey. When I was little my Grandpa Bryant would smoke a turkey with mesquite wood and it tasted so good. And there are mashed potatoes with gravy, and delicious pies. There is pecan pie, and pumpkin pie, and banana cream pie, and cherry pie, and coconut cream pie, and there are chocolate pies. There are rolls with butter. So much butter. And sweet-potato pie with pecans and marshmallows." I would go on and on about the wonder that was the Thanksgiving feast. It seemed like a wonderland compared to my cold apartment with a few potatoes on the counter, no oven in my kitchen, and a constant struggle to find food I knew how to prepare.
Today we are having our first Thanksgiving with just our small family. We are watching the snow fall out the window all day, while we are warm inside with nowhere we need to go. My little girl who was a baby in China peeled every single potato, and her sister made place markers for us all with the letters of our names in the shapes of animals and flowers. We have a giant turkey in our oven that brined in our sink overnight. I have an oven to bake rolls, and a store where I easily purchased ingredient just yesterday for sweet potato pie. I called my mom for my sister-in-law, Mandy's sweet potato pie. We were in the same time zone, so she answered right away and gave me the recipe. My little boy is snuggled under a blanket my Aunt Suzie made us. Sweet Aunt Suzy who buried her husband this week. We spent a Thanksgiving with them just two years ago. It was a very fun day where my kids learned about stuffing, and how they don't like it. Uncle Allan was an entertaining host who made so much turkey we were filled to the brim. My four year old is wearing her signature look: a swimming suit, and we are watching a cartoon with little elves that I have never seen before. I understand every word. We only have one pie, and not as many side dishes as some of the Thanksgiving parties I've been too, but it is a wonderland.
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