Shanghai Surprise

I received some unexpected but very good news today.  I was chosen for a two-week assignment in Shanghai, China.  Twice a year, four individuals are sent to other countries to work for two weeks.  Because I was involved in the APEC Summit and am now doing a short-term job assignment in my career field, I did not think I would qualify an assignment out of country.  It’s akin to winning the Triple Crown–most people only participate in one or two of these activities.  I am extremely grateful to have been chosen for the assignment, in spite of prior career opportunities.  In this line of work, “fair” is a “four-letter word,” meaning that nothing in this line of work is really fair.  Maybe you make more than your colleague.  Maybe you’re passed up for a promotion.  Maybe you get a better assignment than someone else.  Maybe you get more chances to shine.  Sometimes things go your way, and sometimes they don’t.  For example, we were placed in Seoul after my initial, preferred assignment became unavailable.  My stoic response is that everything evens out eventually.  When things aren’t going right, just wait for awhile, and the tide should turn.  I was fully prepared not to get this assignment, because I’ve already been extremely fortunate, more than I know some of my colleagues have been.  I was perfectly happen to defer to them.  At the same time, other colleagues have been given more opportunities than I’ve had in Seoul.  That’s fine by me.  I know that “fair” is a four-letter word and accept this reality.  I know that things won’t always be this good.  I know that someday I will face some unforeseen adversity.

My wife was ecstatic to find out that we’re heading to Shanghai for two weeks next March or April.  Her parents returned to Shanghai from Seattle following her grandmother’s death.  Our return to China will hopefully help lift everyone’s spirits and help bring the family closer together.  Because my wife works full time, she may only stay for one week.  We also talked about having my son stay with me for the full two weeks and have his grandparents take care of him during the day while I work.  We’re not sure yet.  This trip won’t be a vacation, because I have to work full time.  However, evenings and weekends will be free.  Perhaps we’ll take a trip to Hangzhou or back to Anhui Province.  Maybe we’ll catch a weekend in Xi’an or Guangzhou.  We haven’t decided yet.  It’s a good dilemma figuring out our travel plans.

With our trip to Shanghai and return to the U.S. in May, I may have to drop out of the choir I mentioned yesterday.  I will be away at least four weeks this spring, so I don’t know whether I will have time to commit to it.  I’ll talk to my colleague, the music director, and find out whether I should stay.  I’d rather drop out now than find out I’m going to miss some performances or sound lousy because I didn’t practice enough.  I also decided to forego studying and taking the German exam.  There is only one German-speaking assignment I could qualify for, and it’s very unlikely that I would be assigned to that job, because “fair” is a four-letter word in this line of work.  I decided to hold off studying and focus on Korean and Spanish or Chinese, whichever is required for my next assignment.

Blog Notes:  Tonight’s blog title beat out the other title that crossed my mind:  “We Got Shanghai’d.”

From the “Things that Make You Go Hmm…” Department:  Why is Google complying with Chinese authorities and offering Google.cn without blogging and E-mail features when it does not feel compelled to cooperate with U.S. authorities?  Google’s policy has been to work within the legal framework of countries where it does business.  Why is it so quickly cooperating with the Chinese and so willing to go to court with the U.S. Department of Justice?

In Memory of Nai Nai

My wife called me today with very sad news.  Her grandma, her dad’s mom, passed away today in Shanghai.  We are very saddened by the news.  Grandma, or “Nai Nai,” was 89 years old.  She lived a very long life, outliving many elderly Chinese.  She was born and lived most of her life in Hexian, a county in Anhui Province, China, about one hour west of Nanjing along the Yangzi River.  I can only imagine the changes she must have seen during her lifetime, from growing up as a peasant in rural China after World War I, through the Chinese Civil War, the Great Leap Forward and the Great Famine, the Cultural Revolution, and into the Deng Xiaoping era and China’s revival as a world power.  Her life makes me recall one of my favorite novels, “Wild Swans:  Three Daughters of China,” which chronicles three generations of women in one Chinese family during the 20th Century.

I met Nai Nai twice and have fond memories of her.  I wish I could remember her name.  Learning her name was a big challenge, because each time I asked, I met with strong opposition.  Unlike America, referring to your elders by name in China, even modified with a title, is considered inappropriate.  Hence, she was always known as “Nai Nai,” the Mandarin Chinese word for paternal grandmother (the maternal grandmother is called “wai po”).  I first met her was in 1994, when I visited Hexian with my wife’s family.  We went to my father-in-law’s hometown and visited the place where he spent his childhood.  Nai Nai was a smallish woman.  I remember her smile and the twinkle in her eye.  I did not know her well, but she always seemed like a sweet lady.  I’m sure it was a bit strange for her to meet a foreigner for the first time and at the same time welcome him as the newest member of the family.  The second time I saw her was in 2000, when we attended my sister-in-law’s wedding in Shanghai.  I remember that she seemed so happy to have family around her and have her children reunited.  She had taken care of my sister-in-law as a child, so Nai Nai was especially excited to attend her wedding.  My sister-in-law and she were very close.

Even though Nai Nai lived a full life, we are sad to hear of her passing.  She reminds me how precious life is and how important it is to be ready when the inevitable happens, both in life and in death.  One cannot know which day will be the last day of life, so live life to the fullest, as if each day were your last.  Never take for granted the lives of those you love, because you never know when they will be taken from you.  When my grandpa fell ill with cancer, we waited until it was convenient for us to visit him.  He passed away while we were en route to see him one last time.  I was devastated.  I regret that I let convenience get in the way of saying goodbye to my grandpa.  Two years later, when my aunt was diagnosed with incurable cancer, I dropped everything to see her a few months before she passed away.  A few years ago, I helped bring my mom and my grandma together again one last time.  I’ll never forget the touching moment when they reunited.  Three weeks later, my grandma passed away.  I did not see her again, but my final moments with her, watching her embrace my mother, is a memory etched in my mind.  I’m teary eyed even now thinking about it.

Checking in from China

I talked to my wife tonight on the phone. She has been in China with my son since early last week. They are doing very well. Life in Shanghai is not as comfortable or convenient as it is in Seoul, but she’s glad she went home to spend time with family. My wife and son are staying with my in-laws, who as you might recall returned to China last December before we left for Seoul. My sister-in-law’s family, who also live in Shanghai, met my son for the first time. My son has really taken a liking to his aunt (probably because she is a lot like his mom, her sister). They all live in pretty cramped quarters and have had a few minor family quarrels, but all in all, the visit has been a good one. My son really misses me. Whenever he sees a photo of me, he says excitedly, “Baba!” the Chinese word for “daddy.” I can’t wait to see them again. My temporary, pseudo-bachelor life has its good moments, but there’s nothing like being with the ones you love.

My son is apparently quite a celebrity in China. As a mixed-blooded child—half American, half-Chinese—he obviously looks different than Chinese children. My wife told me that strangers go out of the way to meet the little guy because he looks so different. She recently took him to a neighborhood photography studio for a photo session. The session so well that the studio acquired the rights to his photos and will display his album as a studio sample. He is a very photogenic kid. (I’m glad he inherited his mother’s good looks!) Although my son has been noticed here in Seoul, he has gotten far more attention in China than he has in Korea. This may be because Koreans have seen so many foreigners and mixed-blooded children that they are no longer a novelty. Chinese, on the other hand, have experienced much less exposure to foreigners and have met few mixed-blooded children. When I first visited China in 1994, I received many inquisitive looks from Chinese. I was a bit of a novelty, even when I was in Shanghai. However, in recent years the foreign mystique has diminished, and many Chinese now won’t give foreigners a second glance.

On the other hand, mixed-blooded children in China born to a foreign parent are still relatively rare. As a result, like my son, mixed-blooded children still elicit stares from Chinese. And Chinese typically hold them in high regard. Some Chinese believe that mixed-blooded children are physically more beautiful than either full-blooded Chinese or foreigner (e.g. Western) children. A recent poll indicated that 63% of Chinese would like to marry a foreigner. During my 1994 visit to China, my wife and I received critical stares from strangers who disapproved of our bi-racial relationship. Now, our mixed marriage is apparently hip. Attitudes in China have changed dramatically in the past decade. This may explain why Chinese are generally favorably disposed to mixed-blooded children. Rather than being a social burden, mixed-blooded children have become a status symbol of sorts.

Koreans, in contrast, typically do not hold mixed-blooded children in such high esteem. Koreans tend to prefer full-blooded Korean or non-Korean children. This is partly due to the fact that some mixed-blooded children in Korea are born out of wedlock to Korean mothers who are abandoned by foreign partners (particularly soldiers) who leave the country. Many of these children are born into unfortunate circumstances where the father reneges on his responsibility to take care of the child and disappears from their life. It is a very interesting contrast between two cultures that are similar in many ways but differ in some key social aspects. It is partly a product of cultural and historical influences.