The descent from the Big Buddha. 

Gene, riding an express ferry from Kowloon to Central, Chinese reader in hand. 

Hong Kong Part II

We’re in the middle of our second stay in Hong Kong. We spent a couple nights here on the way in. We’ve got one more day of touring, then we fly to Beijing for the trip’s final leg.

Hong Kong is, of course, one of the world’s capitals, on par with Paris and New York in history, power and architectural splendor. Now legally part of the People’s Republic of China, Beijing’s hold on the city’s administration and citizens is very loose. Hongkongese remain among the world’s brashest capitalists and materialists. The elegance of the hotels, shopping centers, and office towers we’ve visited in the uptown segments of the city is dazzling--even more impressive than the city’s counterparts in the West. People here know how to live well and richly.

Yesterday, we spent the better part of the day making a trip to what we referred to as the Big Buddha, a sort of cousin to Rio de Janeiro's Cristo, that is perched atop a mountain, surrounded by a monastery, on one of the two largest of Hong Kong’s many habitable islands. This island is also now home to Hong Kong's striking new airport, whose design includes the longest enclosed space in the world.

It was a long trek to the Bhuddha and back--and Gigi was equal to it. Like a papoose, she spent most of it at times sleeping, at times looking on placidly as her father carried her against his chest in a Baby Bjorn. We walked two piers, rode two ferries, rode a taxi up a mountain, climbed to the peak of the mountain, then raced, so that John Lewis could make a business meeting, back from the Big Buddha in a succession of taxis to Kowloon, the posh district that sits opposite the harbor from Central--the high-rise studded side of Hong Kong you see in pictures.

It was in this prime position, looking across the water at the endless row of high-rise towers--residential in one cluster, commercial in another--that we finished our night, walking the Avenue of the Stars, Asia’s answer to Hollywood’s Walk of Fame. Jackie Chan, Jet Li, Lisa Lu--they’ve all got impressions of their hands preserved in concrete.

Cleo's crash course in sharing with a new sibling. She continues to score an A to A-. 

Gigi with a couple of her orphange roommates, very soon to become Chinese-born American citizens, on picture day.

More picture day, at the White Swan Hotel. 

Trying to contain the girls for a daddy/daughter portrait. 

Nicknames

No one attracts affectionate nicknames like a child. Ginger already has them in spades:

Gigi: Of course.

Gingi: Stolen from the nickname for the Gingerbread Man in Shrek II.

Sister: Cleo’s preference. This is the result of the confusion Cleo developed in the months leading up to this trip over the difference between her aunt Georgina, whom she took to calling “Gigi,” and her future sister. She now calls her aunt “Gina” and her sister “Sister.” Rather straightforward.

Sweet Pea and Pumpkin: Funny that we use veggies rather than fruits. If Gigi is what she eats, then we’d call her “Congee” or “Watermelon.”

Fu Yan and Da Yan: Her orphanage name and nickname respectively. The latter sounds a bit like “Diane.”

Munchkin or just Munch: Taken from Wizard of Oz, which Cleo has watched on her DVD player umpteen times since we left Virginia.

We’re of course just getting started with cute diminutives, as Gigi has an army of cousins, grandparents, and aunts and uncles to meet when we spend a week in Logan and Park City, Utah starting next Tuesday.

One of two photos that illustrate how, as for every child, there is a talisman for comforting Gigi. Hers is a towel. When crying, we just cover her with one, or rub its texture against her mouth, and she goes quiet.

Gigi on the shoulder of John Lewis's dad at the Chen family temple in Guangzhou.

Cleo in the arms of one of the many Chinese women who insist on holding her or just touching her hair, which causes her, as in this encounter in the Guangzhou jade market, to turn glassy-eyed shy. 

Why was Gigi abandoned?

This is a post drafted long ago, and worked over a few times, in an effort to get the tone and details right. Here's our best effort with the delicate subject.


So, why was Gigi abandoned? It's a complicated mix of cultural and political factors that caused Gigi's birth family to "abandon" or, as we've taken to saying, "anonymously place" her with authorities. Gigi was likely given up by parents who loved her, who wanted a child throughout the pregnancy, but who desired--or were pressured to want--a boy. As in other patriarchal cultures, in Chinese tradition boys are favored over girls. In addition to contributing to a family’s livelihood during their parents' working years, particularly for the farming families that fill China's inland, they also play the role of caring for their parents when retired.

Because of long-standing population control regulations, most parents in China can only have one child, while some rural Chinese may have two. Thus, if you’re "stuck" with a girl, it can mean financial ruin. In effect, a boy is your workhorse and your Social Security card; a girl is, at best, a luxury. Characterizing the situation in economic terms is actually too generous. Girls weren’t valued like boys before the introduction of China’s one-child policy in 1979--the preference is engrained. But anyone who’s encountered Chinese (or Asian) literature and film knows this already, as it's a recurring theme.

Whatever the cause, many Chinese girls end up unwanted--aborted (when a physician can be bribed into illegally disclosing the results of an ultrasound), abandoned, or worse. How many? If you view the Lost Girls documentary referenced below, you’ll learn about the troubling trends in Chinese demographics. The boy-to-girl gap is already noticeable in a typical elementary school classroom, where boys are in a clear majority. Demographers predict it may reach as many as 100 million unmarriageable men by 2040.

Doesn’t this just mean Chinese women of the rising generation will benefit from a better pick of husbands? Nope. Best case scenario: More young women will be kidnapped to become the wives by men willing to pay for the service—a trend on the rise. Worst: As argued by the authors of Bare Branches: The Security Implications of Asia’s Surplus Male Population, a recent award-winning book coauthored by a researcher at BYU, a surplus of males has historically triggered military conquest. But never has a people’s surplus been so dramatic. Add that to the reasons to worry about China's growing military power.

Which brings us back to Gigi: Where does she fit in this complex socio-political situation? What led to her parents’ decision? Here’s what we know: She came from a rural part of southern China and is therefore likely to be among the girls displaced for economic reasons. That she is apparently healthy and had good nutrition readings upon arrival at the orphanage indicates that she was cared for prenatally. But here is the clincher: Days after being united with Gigi, we received a copy of the solitary trace she will ever have of her birth parents. When found, Gigi had this note attached, indicating her birth day, March 26, 2004, but also on the Chinese lunar calendar, February 6, 2004:




While this is not uncommon with such children anonymously placed with authorities, it indicates that Gigi’s birth parents or mother wanted these two key elements of her otherwise blank identity to be known. In other words, she was loved. And it was hoped by people who surely carry a sense of loss and regret that she would benefit from the life they chose not to provide--or couldn’t. Abandoned? No. Anonymously placed.

Happily for the girls yet unborn in China, and those at risk of suffering from the side effects of the one-child policy, things are changing. The government has awoken to the crisis of the gender gap and, among other measures, has launched a public education campaign to shift the perception of girls in Chinese society. Headlong into industrialization, social change in the developing part of China is also well underway, with the attendant realignment of lifestyles, gender roles, and family sizes. So, as much as we will cherish Gigi, we can hope that fewer of China’s girls like her will have to be taken so far from their birthplace to join a loving family to which they're entitled.

What Ginger looks like about a third of the time--mostly when sleeping, as in this case. 

What Ginger looks like the other two thirds of the time. 

Gigi with her aunt and de facto godmother, Georgina, who joined us for this trip because she's the best person we know to suck energy out of Cleo and is a sucker for any travel adventure. 

Gigi receiving a blessing from a Buddhist monk, complete with forehead marking, over-the-head bell ringing, water sprinkling a la Catholic baptism, and, lastly, laying-on-of-hand with chanting. She loved it.

Some Q & A

We just had our first phone conversation with someone back in the US--Christie Needham, Gigi's paternal grandmother. We called at 8:00 AM Guangzhou, China time on Monday, June 13, and, crossing the date line, reached this excited grandma on Sunday at 6:00 PM. In just 10 minutes of chatting, we used up the phone card we'd purchased. Christie has been emailing daily with questions about her new granddaughter. For everyone's benefit, here are our answers to some recent questions:

Q: Does Gigi ever let you hold her? How about Georgina, can she hold Gigi?

A: Yes, Gigi lets all of us hold her, but prefers Amy and is warm to her aunt Georgina. She's obviously had limited exposure to men. But John Lewis can soothe well enough.


Q: So is Cleo doing all right?

A: Cleo’s doing wonderfully. She is definitely going through the adjustment of a former only child. Since the honeymoon period of the first few days, she now she tries to nudge out her new "sister," as she calls Gigi, just a couple times a day.


Q: Do you eat duck?, dog?, sweet and sour pork like from Panda Express (just kidding)?, rice?, fried rice?, shark?, whale?, squid? What do you drink? Is there Coke or Mountain Dew?

A: We've eaten many great Chinese and Western meals. Breakfasts at the Hong Kong and now the Guangzhou hotels have been the best. Tremendously diverse, gourmet selections, from European cheeses, custom omelets, to French toast, and, of course, all manner of exotic fresh fruits (which we can only eat if there's no peel involved).

Some of more interesting Chinese dishes we've eaten: stir-fried rice noodles (yum!), perfectly crisp, chilled green beans with garlic, ginger and clove chicken (in one case, we were served the *whole* bird, a la Christmas Story), some sort of Chinese spinich that tastes like grilled asparagus; and, not least, congee--a versatile rice poridge that Ginger, and some of us, eat a couple times a day.

We drink only Coke, with no ice, and bottled water. Cleo's now addicted to apple juice. Some in our group have really suffered for lack of ready access Diet Coke. Mountain Dew junkies are even worse off.


Q: Are all the families still with you?

A: Interacting with our fellow adoptive families has been one of the trip's highlights. It's like a 24-hour support group, complete with a baby goods exchange--we've received much-needed PJs, teething medications, digital camera cable, etc.


Q: Is Gigi about the same age as most of the little girls?

A: She's a bit younger than the average, but looks very much like the others, except that she is the smallest and most fragile of the bunch. She passed her medical exam for the US visa today, weighing in at 14.8 pounds. She was judged healthy, but we were urged to fatten her up, as it appears she didn't receive complete nutrition in the orphanage.


Q: Is Dad speaking Chinese to anyone after his crash course?

A: Yes, John Lewis's Dad the polyglot is making solid progress with Mandarin. When asked yesterday how you say “please," he proceeded to offer a mini-lecture on the two ways of saying please, one of which corresponds to the German “bitte.”

Some Quick Bullets

The high-rise hotel where we're staying in Nanning, in the far south of China, is encircled by other high-rises, about half of which are still under construction. Glancing across the cityscape, it appears that another half of the buildings are still rising. This is the China you read about in news magazines--one great construction project, with a bottomless appetite for natural resources and a new factory opening every hour. It's also a landscape that's strikingly modern--a more diffuse downtown Hong Kong than sterile Tiananmen Square. This observation is an explanation for why we haven't blogged for a couple days. During that time, our hotel upgraded to a new internet service--which, like all the new that's rising around us, is smarter and swifter than the last, but the changeover entailed some downtime.

So, we're back. After four days with Gigi, she's now much more accustomed to us. And we're getting better acquainted with her. In the way of some quick bullets, she:

Is brought to tears easily and frequently, whether by having to move from her mother's to her father's arms or by her carrier at the moment sitting down.

Eats wonderfully: congee (rice porridge), watermelon, biscuits, a yogurt/milk mixture popular for children here, or, during a last-night-in-Nanning party with other adoptive families in our group, pizza crust.

Looks great in the outfits Amy brought, a couple of which were Cleo's, as well as the cute shoes we've bought for her here.

Doesn't do binkies (the Chinese apparently don't believe in pacifiers), but she'll clutch a hotel key for three hours.

Has much shorter hair than Cleo had at 15 months, having been shorn several times (we're guessing), but looks great with the baby doll barrette look.

Tolerates her Dad holding her best when taking a walk down the hotel hallway--where, as the de facto commons for the nine families in our group, always has a parent and child about--or when being fed.

Seems more comfortable outside in the humidity, not the climatized environment we inhabit most of the day. This, we can conclude, from observing her peers during a tour of a local orphanage, where air conditioning is clearly the last thing on the minds of its strapped managers and nannies.

Meeting Gigi

It's now been over 24 hours since we arrived at a government building in Nanning, together with an excited bunch of American families, to meet our little girls. To our surprise, we found them lined up in the arms of their nannies by the entrance, also on their way to the room upstairs where we were to be ceremonially presented to one another. After some additional waiting (what's 15 torturous minutes more when you've waited years?), we filed in, they filed in, and it was quivering lips and tears all around. Moms crying excitedly. Dads tripping over themselves trying to capture the moment with digital camcorders. Little girls--with hair in pig tails, feet in jelly sandals--wailing out for fear and reaching back for their nannies. Gigi was devastated, her face screwed up in agony, letting out rhythmic squeals. With Amy squeezing her tight, we made our way downstairs, behind Gigi’s nanny who was looking back longingly while trying not to let Gigi glimpse her, jumped back on the bus and were off.

That's not the romantic encounter you would expect from such a moment, but we were well primed for it. Most girls, particularly those who have been in foster care or, as we discovered, connected with a particular care giver, experience nothing less than a second rupture in their lives--one that they can actually observe this time. Gigi continued crying all the way back to our hotel room, then for the next hour as we each, in turn, tried to console her. At last she fell asleep on top of Amy, lying face up, arms outstretched, as if she had given up all hope.

The good news: Gigi got better. When she woke up a few hours later, she clung to Amy determinedly and without tears. Since then, she's grown progressively more comfortable--first with others touching her, now with all of us holding her. She's still a delicate flower--emotionally, but especially physically. In truth, the most striking impression she makes is that she's about six months shy developmentally of where she's supposed to be. She can stand and shuffle a bit, she can change hands with an object, but otherwise she has the coordination and muscle mass of a nine-month old. While she's very observant, recognizing even from behind when someone other than her new nanny (Amy) is touching her, she clearly has catching up to do.

The sweetest moment yet was, after a busy 24 hours of learning how to feed Gigi and to talk to her ("Baba bao": Daddy is holding you), signing documents with a notary, presenting her to a doctor for a brief physical, and much more, we finally had an opportunity to bathe her. This evening, we cleaned her top to bottom, wiping away all the tears and cares of her first 15 months, dressed her in new PJs, and put her to bed smothered in all the blankets and pent-up affection that we’ve brought with us. With her hair combed and face glowingly clean, she looks angelic.

More tomorrow.

Gigi between tears

Amy feeding Gigi rice "congee," a porridge she happily eats. Note Gigi's rash, which is the result of a minor cold and probably not helped by the crying.

Post-bath snuggling. Have we mentioned the humidity?

Guess who has been a perfect big sister--interested, helpful, needing only an occasional reminder that's she's loved like always? And if Cleo didn't already receive enough child-modeling offers, she's fast becoming a star in Nanning.

We're here!

After a short stay in Hong Kong, where we were reunited yesterday evening after John Lewis's arrival from Europe, we've traveled to Nanning, the capital of Ginger's home province. We're now less than 24 hours away from meeting the little girl. From what we understand, she and the other girls from her orphanage traveled from a few hours away today and are staying in a nearby hotel. After taking care of some documents tomorrow morning, we'll be united with Ginger tomorrow late afternoon. How do we feel?

Amy's deathly nervous, so bad she's got a stomach ache.

Cleo's nonchalant, though she did get quite excited when we reached our hotel room and discovered a baby crib in the corner.

JL's similarly relaxed, trying to balance out for Amy. He expects to switch roles with her sometime tomorrow around 4:30.

China is nothing like what we expected. Our "five-star hotel" is a bit rough at the edges, but otherwise elegant. The Hong Kong Shangri-La was exquisite--most of all the food. We never envisioned being pampered during this trip. But, since luxury is on offer, we're enjoying.