Episode 2
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The next day, Driver Jerry arrived promptly at 9AM and took us to METRO — the Chinese version of Sam’s Club. It felt a bit uncomfortable to have this little man escorting us all around, opening doors, carrying our bags — like he was our slave. It wasn’t even his job to help us. He was just being nice; trying to help us ease into our new life in China.
Considering that the lady at the front desk, whom Rob and I had secretly nicknamed The Dragon Lady, had still done nothing but scowl at us it was nice to have someone trying to help us feel welcome.
Driver Jerry was very proud of China. Every chance he got he taught us little nuggets about his homeland. “Jenny-fer, did you know China is the oldest civilization on the Earth?”
“I did not know that,” I said, shaking my head.
“Over 4000 years old.” I saw him looking at me in the rear view mirror, checking to see how impressed I was.
“Wow!” I smiled and nodded my head with approval.
“America is a very nice country, too. Very beauty-ful. In Chinese the word for America is Mei Guo, or Beauty-ful Country.”
“Yes. America is very beautiful place. Many places to see.”
“We like Americans very much. We use America Constitution as model for our own Constitution.”
Really?
“I didn’t know that.” I tried to hide the doubt on my face. I mean, really. Come on. China isn’t exactly known for its fairness, right?
“One difference. In China, no guns.”
Only one? Freedom of religion? Freedom of Assembly? Freedom of Speech? Freedom of the Press?
“I don’t understand. Certainly you carried a gun when you were a police officer?”
“No. I just carry a stick.” He made a quick hitting motion with his hand pretending to club someone with his stick.
“Some police carry a gun. No all. I think you misunderstand me. People have no guns in China.”
“Oh. I see. You mean Chinese people have no right to bear arms? They can’t have a gun, right?”
“Yes. That is what I mean. Much safer here.”
“That’s ironic. Didn’t the Chinese invent gunpowder?”
“Ironic? I don’t know this word.” He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a little notebook and pen and placed it on the steering wheel, while keeping his eyes on the road.
“Oh, ironic is like you expect something to be like something, but it isn’t. Kind of like the opposite of what you believe to be the truth is actually the truth.”
He looked at me in the rear view mirror with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, I mean, it’s funny that the Chinese invented gunpowder but people can’t have guns in China. It’s ironic. Like the Italians invented noodles, but can’t eat noodles in Italy.”
“Really? I think you are mistaken. Jenny-fer, the Chinese invented noodles.”
“No. No, I was just making up a silly example so you could understand…what? The Chinese invented noodles? Now that is ironic.”
Too much information. Stick to the basics.
“Oh, I see.” Without writing anything down, he folded up his notebook, tucked it under his thigh and pulled into the parking lot at METRO.
Jetlag in full-swing, we’d all been up since 3AM and the kids fell asleep on the way. When we arrived, Driver Jerry jumped out of the car, hustled to get two shopping carts and ran them back to the van. Rob and I each went to pick up a child, but Jerry pushed us out of the way, and as if he was their own father, he picked up each child, one-by-one, and gently placed them in a cart. Neither child stirred during the transfer.
As part of our “expat package” we’d been given $5000 to transport our personal belongings to China. The cat and dog took up $3000, so we decided to take the remaining $2000 and buy all new stuff.
Everything is so cheap in China, right?
I would have typically welcomed this type of shopping spree, but I just couldn’t get into it. I was exhausted. And if I wasn’t in the spirit, imagine Robby. He was a nightmare. A constant scowl on his face, barking orders at me, “I already picked out silverware,” or “Why are you picking out those coffee mugs? These are cheaper.”
“Yeah, but these are cuter.”
“It doesn’t matter, Jennifer. Just pick out the cheapest stuff we can find. We only have $2000.”
“Fine.”
Asshole.
We needed everything from trashcans to frying pans, printer paper to toilet paper. Everything.
As we made our way through the store I was torn between desperately wanting all of our possessions that were sitting in a storage unit in Colorado vs. coming to terms with being more practical — living with less. Who needs nice fluffy towels, anyway? The plain white sand paper towels will serve the same function, right? Still, I couldn’t help but get wistful about my full set of All-Clad pots and pans, including a wok, as I tried to decide between buying two medium sized pots or one medium and one small with chintzy plastic handles that already rattled when I held them? Not to mention the pathetic Lilliputian coffee maker Rob tossed in the cart that only brewed four cups of coffee at a time. We were able to find the biggest toaster oven money could buy in China since we didn’t have an oven at all. Unfortunately, it closer resembled the Hasbro EZ-Bake oven than my General Electric at home.
After filling four carts with home furnishings Driver Jerry led us to the food section. I pulled Rob aside and said, “Honey, I’m not up for food shopping now. Can we do this later?”
“You read my mind,” he said, then turned to Jerry and added, “Hey Jerry, we’re good for today. We’ll do the food shopping another time.”
“Oh, I see. Yes, the Carrefour will be better for the food shopping,” Jerry said with his big permanent smile.
Relieved, we walked to the checkout line and waited in silence for our turn. As we waited, a little boy who appeared to be about three years old approached us. His skin was very tan and his face was covered in dirt. His hair, cut short, was matted in places as if he’d just rolled out of bed. At first I thought he was lost because his parents were nowhere to be seen. Just as I finished that thought, he walked a little closer and stopped about four feet away. Then he pulled down his pants exposing his miniature weenie, and peed on the floor. As he peed right there on the floor, he held my gaze then belted out in the most maniacal cackle I’d ever heard.
Confused, and not sure if I should laugh or cry, I simply turned away and helped Rob unload the carts so we could get home, unpack and officially begin our life in China.
***
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