Chronicles of Whistling Duck Cottage
Week Seventeen — Amber is Coming Home!
Week Forty-Two of 52-Week Writing Challenge
All Photos by Dennett
Last Sunday at 8:30 am we returned from the vacation that did not reach my expectations and left me with more back pain than I had on my arrival in New Jersey ten days earlier. In spite of many disappointments, I left the Northeast with good memories of time spent with Ben’s family and a stomach full of incomparable Italian food. Don’t think I will be able to eat Italian food anywhere in Florida ever again!
The day we arrived, I immediately went into action, working 9 hours that afternoon to barely make a dent in the mountain of work and problems that accumulated while I was gone. The rest of the week I continued to chip at the stack until getting it down to an acceptable level today.
Last week, I returned home to a city under siege. A well-known white supremacist spoke here last week, creating an uproar never before seen in our town. State of emergency. Hundreds of police officers. Snipers on top of buildings. Barricades. The scene was worse than a past visit to NYC when there were rumors of an impending terrorist attack, and the city went in full defensive mode.
My body felt the negative electricity in the air, and people around me complained of extreme fatigue, headaches, and confusion. Although we were a distance from the action, the action came to us through the atmosphere, the news, and social media. The overwhelment was similar to what many of us have felt since Trump became president — a constant bombardment of lies, threats, insults, and fear that attacks our nervous systems. Americans are weary and sad. My city was weary and sad.
Many of my friends were among the protestors who peacefully and emphatically made known their opposition to racism, sexism, and Nazism. Too busy at work and still nursing nerve and muscle pain, I watched the protest scenes from the sidelines, proud of how our citizens conducted themselves, pleased to be part of this community.
I was also hit with unexpected news during the week. One announcement was a little disconcerting but hopefully will prove to be positive — more on that another time. The other was exciting news that the Chinese student who lived with us for six months in 2014 will be coming to visit in November. Our Thanksgiving travel plans were cancelled and new at-home plans were formulated. People contacted and arrangements made. Lots of activity to get ready for our guest.
Amber interned at our university following her senior year at a Chinese college. We met at an international Thanksgiving dinner that a friend and I hosted each year for foreign students with whom my co-host worked. One of our dinners was attended by people from 22 different countries! Many of our guests at these dinners came from China and other Asian countries, and most were graduate students or interns.
Amber stood out because she was so un-Asian-like. Most of the Asians I’ve met tend to be more reserved, more serious, and quieter than Americans. Amber was not. She was effervescent, chatty, brimming with excitement and curiosity, and always ready for a new adventure.
Having never experienced Christmas, Amber joined us for tree trimming, Christmas morning gift-opening, and our holiday dinner. She attended festivals and parties with us and baby-sat my grandchildren.
Eight months later, Amber gave up her apartment to follow her American boyfriend to South Florida. When that relationship and move did not pan out, she returned and moved in with us until her passport expired, forcing her to go back to China. Her time in our home is one of my most precious memories; her return to China is one of my saddest.
Wherever we took Amber, she made friends. No one can remain a stranger to Amber. Her curiosity and interest in everyone endeared her to new acquaintances as she peppered them with questions, wanting to learn all she could about their lives, experiences, and dreams. Actively engaged in learning Spanish, she eagerly and fearlessly spoke Spanish to anyone who could understand and respond. Never did she shy away from the chance to try out her new language. Never did she hesitate to ask what she wanted to know.
During her time with us, we hosted several dinner parties and cook-outs, often ending up with more guests invited by Amber than our own friends. We were amazed by the parade of her new acquaintances that came through our door — students, children, young couples, middle-aged and even elderly people. She met them on the bus and at bus stops, walking on the streets, in stores and restaurants, and at parties, dances and the movies.
Amber embraced everything Hispanic. She learned to dance salsa, loved the spicy Latin foods, and took cooking lessons from my husband on how to prepare empanadas, torta fritas, and an Argentine asado. She flew to Puerto Rico by herself, traveling all over the island, making even more friends. She dreamed of studying in Spain and visiting Cuba, Mexico, and Central and South American.
Unfortunately, visas expire. She returned to China and went to work, hoping to save money to travel more. Three years passed.
It’s difficult to communicate with someone in China — email and social media are forbidden. Her Facebook account went dormant. Our only method, other than phone calls, to stay in contact was an app called WeChat. For two years, we WeChatted regularly. Then time and distance took its toll, and we communicated less often. Her life there was busy; my life here was busy. There is a point when long distance sharing is limited to only notable events. When everyday happenings in each other’s lives are unknown, familiarity is lost. As the political scene here became scary and uncertain, I worried she’d never visit again and we’d lose touch completely.
