TheBanyanTree: Return to China - Part 3

[Pat M]

November 22

I woke at 6:30 am after a restless night, but what could I expect after such
an arduous journey? Unlike many, when I get overtired I can't sleep. My
internal clock was out of whack and I knew it'd take some time to adjust to
the 14 hour time difference.  My bed was comfortable, though and I'd been
given a lovely fleece blanket as well as a thick, warm quilt and had been
cozy and warm.

I pulled open the curtains to see my new home in the daylight. I saw banana
and palm trees and other tropical vegetation.  The temperature in Pingguo is
much warmer and more pleasant than in Powell River, BC where I'd come from.
 Here, it is spring-like and some of the foliage is in bloom. At this time
of year, it can get quite cool at night—maybe 6 C—but goes up to the low 20s
during the day.

I'd asked about the orphanage's schedule last night and Peter told me that
the children rise at 6 am on weekdays and do laps around the courtyard
before breakfast.  School starts at 7:30 and goes until 11:00 am.  It
resumes again at 2:30 and finishes at 5:00 pm. On weekends the children are
allowed to sleep in a little later but laps are an everyday ritual.

Peter had also told me that the hot water is best used in the afternoon or
evening as it is solar heated.  I'd been provided with two gigantic
thermoses filled with hot safe-to-drink water from the machine in the dining
room.  All drinking water for the orphanage comes from this machine which
heats it to a temperature of over 100 degrees Celsius.  As there was no hot
tap water so early in the morning, I used water from a thermos to wash my
hair in the sink.

When I opened my door, I saw some of the little girls busy making their beds
while others tidied, folded quilts, and swept and washed the floor.  The
children sleep in bunk beds and some of the littlest sleep two in a bed. It
was immediately evident the children are into a set routine and know exactly
what their tasks are, and unlike many (most?) children in the west, they do
not complain.

After greeting 'my' girls, I headed downstairs picking my way through the
dozens of pairs of children's plastic shoes that covered the staircase.  In
spite of little sleep, I was in high spirits and I joined the boys and girls
running and walking around the courtyard.

"Zo la" (Let's go!) I said to motivate the kids and soon many were racing
with me.  After several laps, I headed to the dining room.

"Shu fahn!"  (It's time to eat rice) child after child called out to me.

Breakfast was simple: a bowl of white rice with cooked cabbage and onion on
top and a glass of water. Lunch was the same but it was tastier because
Grandpa gave me a garlic bulb. Like the people in the north, many people in
this area also chew raw garlic with their meals. The garlic improved the
meal but I found myself wondering how I would survive on such a diet.  The
children living at the orphanage have known real hunger prior to coming
here; they've never eaten a balanced diet so can't miss what they've never
had. I, on the other hand, have been fortunate to have had delicious,
nutritious food and as much of it as I wanted for my entire life.

Peter wandered over to me after lunch.  "What do you think of the food?"

I found myself unable to lie.

"It's okay," I said without enthusiasm.  Half way through my first day and I
was already missing 'western food'.

"One of my foreign friends said that if someone says something is okay, it
really means it isn't good but if the person says it's great, then they like
it."

"Well, the Chinese diet is probably very good for your health because you
eat a lot of vegetables," I said diplomatically.  It was the kindest thing I
could think of.  In fact, the vegetables were scarce and the white rice
plentiful.

After lunch, Grandpa drove Peter and I to town. Peter had been unaware that
I had to register with the Public Service Bureau (PSB, a division of the
police) within 24 hours of my arrival. En route we stopped at the Bank of
China and I was able to use my BMO debit card to withdraw money. I repaid
Peter for the CD/Cassette/Radio he'd purchased on my behalf as well as for
having internet set up in my room which cost the equivalent of about
CAD$200. But having Internet was definitely going to be worth it.  I'd be in
China a long time.

Next stop was the supermarket where Peter trailed along behind me and helped
me find the items I needed.   I found I was unable to buy food and treats
for myself. Somehow, it didn't seem right to eat different food from the
children, yet I don't know how I can bear eating rice for breakfast, lunch
and dinner day after day. Being in this situation really highlights the
inequities in the world and makes me appreciate what a privileged life I've
led.  But must I sacrifice a healthy, varied diet in order to live here and
help the children?  For me, it is a question without a clear answer.  I am
no better or more deserving of good food than the children. At least I have
multivitamins and calcium tablets with me to last many months.

After shopping we set off for the police station. Initially, Peter and
Grandpa didn't know where to find it, which surprised me but Grandpa
had asked around while Peter and I were shopping and was able to take us
there. It was Saturday and when we went inside we found that the PSB was
closed.  A man directed Peter to a sign outside with an emergency phone
number on it.  Peter called and spoke with someone who said it was okay if
we returned on Monday.

On the ride home, I said to Peter, "One day you'll have to show me how to
get to the village on the bus."

"There is no bus," he said.

Gulp. Here, I am even more isolated than I was in Lintong but realistically
I'll only need to go to town once a week and will catch a ride with Peter
when he has business to attend to.

Back at the orphanage, I played with the children in the courtyard and
enjoyed it as much as they did.  I taught them Clap, clap, bow;  Head and
Shoulders and the Hokey Pokey. The children couldn't get enough of it and it
was hard to finally wrap it up and tell them, "Mingtien (tomorrow)," meaning
we could play again tomorrow.
When it was time to eat dinner I found myself hoping, praying that supper
would be different (better) than breakfast and lunch but it was basically
the same—white rice with some cooked potato, celery and a few cooked
greens.  The children eat it with gusto and go back for seconds.  I'm
only eating half of what they are eating. How am I going to survive this
diet?
*****

Pingguo China 2008 photos can be viewed at
http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/Pingguo#



-- 
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you
didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away
from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream.
Discover.

Mark Twain

Pingguo China 2008 photos can be viewed at
http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/Pingguo#