Madrid: Take Two

Some time ago, I tagged along to Madrid for a mad rush couple of working days.  We did get to whizz through Museum Prado http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Museo_del_Prado, and walked about that area at night ( our hotel was just down the street.) I discovered that Madrid tapas were not what I thought they would be.  We also managed to find a cafe by the botanical garden where the service was so rude it was shocking. The only thing I thought really worth a trip to Madrid was churros and chocolate. Also the wheelchair valet service at the airport was amazing.  However, it was not a stellar intro to Madrid.

Thus when Himself encouraged another tagalong to Madrid, I was less than enthused but we found a self-catering apartment, close to where he needed to meet the shuttle,  and in a different district close to the Royal Palace, for a great price. Plus some colleagues who live here want to take us under their wing for the weekend, so it will be a different visit entirely.

Let me just say that if you are a tiny person, Iberian Express has planes for you.  I have sore knees from the drubbing my kneecaps got for over two hours.  The weather is really bad in Madrid just now so we had a nightmare ride the close we got to the destination. We were in the last tail row.  I was a little alarmed.

Taxi man was lovely, not one word of English.  The Madrid Christmas lights are up and they are beautiful.Amazing street traffic for, to us, so late in the evening.  But we got to the hotel street in one piece, although the hotel could spend a penny and light the sign in front.  Since we arrived well after reception closed, and it was pitch dark, it was a little fumbly to get the right number punched in and get into the building.  Our keys and info were in another secured by keypad safe inside.

We stepped into our apartment  and were blown away. It's big, it's well equipped, it's comfy.

Then we went off to buy groceries, yes, at 11 o clock at night. The store is inside the nearby train station ( so convenient)  For the price of half a restaurant dinner, we got enough to last us til Saturday, when we join our friends. Himself had an early morning so we ate and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

It's grey and rainy this morning. I have to find condiments.  I have to finalize checkin. but first my breakfast....in my jammies.  I love apartment hotels.  :)

Why Coming Home Can Be a Trial

At least this trip did not end with police reports, broken locks or windows, and insurance assessments.  The carport shutters were screwed  tight,  The annex door was screwed tight.  The upper window has metal screening. The shutters were down on all the side and back windows. Our delightful neighbors were in and out for mail.  Another friend did walk thrus, cared for the car, and plants.  Thus all was well at Jade House when we arrived home. Thanks to everyone we spent not one paranoid moment!

We dropped all 10 of our bags in the dining room which immediately became a cluttered mayhem of a  staging center.  Boy decided to leave for his house that very night to check his premises and so he could get to the U to sign in for his study year, perhaps take aptitude and interest tests to help decide his future.  That eliminated two bags but his tooth still needs looking at....and the dentist had no room til next week.

Sweetpea declared that she would take care of her belongings so that eliminated two more bags still leaving 60 Kilos of mostly stinky sweaty dirty clothes for me to unpack (peee-euw), sort and wash.

Himself had booked the next day (Wednesday) off to recover from jet lag.  And jet lag has been the millstone ever since. Both of us have had a hard time getting our internal clock reset. Today (Monday) i still have not had a decent night sleep. I was up at 3:30 am Wednesday sorting and unpacking.  Then I took a nap while Himself went about unscrewing and opening up the house.  Then he napped.
I got up and did laundry until I went to bed at 6:30 pm because I couldn't stand up anymore.

Thursday morning I was up at 3:30 am again to do laundry, then we both got dressed  and went to the office because he had a meeting (I caught up on emails and administration):  at 1200 we fetched Sweetpea from the house and went to a church member's funeral and burial.   He dropped us off at home and went to another meeting.  I started yet another wash load and went to bed. He dragged in about 7pm, made dinner and we both died in bed after.

Friday was a bit better.  I was up at 6, he rode his bike to work after we cleaned up the kitchen from the night before.  I sorted out some more belongings one big bag for upstairs, one big bag for in storage. Then I got dressed and went back to church for another funeral.  This was a large group. so I stayed to pitch in and serve and cleanup after the reception.  But by the time I got home it was all I could do to go up and crawl in bed.  Boy came home early so he made dinner. Again, early to bed.

And so it was in the weekend.  We dropped gifts for the neighbors and had coffee, we did some grocery shopping, the sewing machines were serviced and picked up, we went to church, we went to Clan headquarters for dinner, we stopped by Brother2 to drop off a loaned camera.  More washing and folding. Suitcases put away. Some photos viewing.  All while feeling  like molasses in January.

Today everyone else starts the University year.  I need to get my house back in order.  MEH.

I think I will take a nap.

Scenic Xi'an

I love Xi’an. I truly do. If we had to stay in this country for any amount of time, I think I could live here.  Xi’an is quaint and quirky, crowded but spacious, amazing and appalling, all at once.

Of all the cities we have visited in China, Xi’an I think suffers the most from the millstones which China drags along as it tries to progress into the 21^st century.

One millstone is the Imperial past which shapes tradition.  Tradition is not a small thing in these parts. The Dynasties are carefully excavated, memorialized, and preserved in wonderfully curated museums where the oppression and misery of the folk who did the heavy lifting while the leaders basked in magnificence is unheralded.   All hail the unknown persons who made amazing scientific, artistic and technological advances well before the rest of the world were wearing clothes. Xi’an is famous for its historical treasures, as it should be.  A visit to the archaeological dig containing terracotta warriors ( and bronze chariots, and stables, and all manner of things needed for the afterlife)  should be on everyone’s bucket list.   We wonder just how much of the area’s economy depends upon tourist revenue.  The city has worked hard to make Xi’an a splendid attractive place to come with the family.

But the poor will always be with us and it bothers me to see ancient tiny toothless grandparents begging amongst the beautiful statues in the park, or sidling up to you outside the museum to gather your empty plastic bottles (to recycle??) Where did the tradition of taking care of the elderly go?

Well, part of that challenge is also connected to the next millstone. The Communist Dynasties.  Not much changed for the truly poor under communism, I think,…the folk carried the weight while the leadership got fat and powerful.  Now China’s economy is vying for a part of the capitalistic pie. This economic shift creates a mobile population that comes to the cities or moves to another. Then parents are left behind, with no infrastructure for support.  In a country this huge, children cannot go home every weekend, so the elderly make do the best they can. But it is a problem.

Opening itself to the capitalists has made other changes to China- Dunkn’Donuts, KFC, Macdonald’s, Subway, Prada, big cars, 7-11---just to name a few.  Boggling to see a Papa John’s Pizza nestled next to a stunning statue commemorating ancient Chinese philosophers and poets.

Another millstone is the population numbers.  My goodness, there are a lot of people here. Everywhere.  Loudly.   The rule about one child has serious repercussions in the countryside, but here in the city it seems like every second person has a child about their person. Every one of them cute as a button.  I asked how the one child rule was working for China-  the answer: very slowly. I guess good nutrition and better conditions mean people aren’t dying fast enough….but the grandchildren are twice as tall as their grandparents…

So it is a little multiple personalitied, China is.  You can’t find a taxi to save your life in Xi’an, but around the corner is yet another serene and breathtaking public park to settle your chi right back down.  The University here is doing well and has a great new campus. But the students really struggle with conversational English, so they almost have to go study abroad if they want to present well in the greater scientific community.  There is internet and even WiFi but the connections are so slow and chancy that you can’t upload photos.

And there is more, the air conditioning works a treat- but the plumbing is so outdated that you throw your toilet paper in the bin and take a lot of cold showers.

Still, it is green and lovely here, even in this heatwave.   I do love Xi’an;  warts, wrinkles and all.

Footloose in Fuzhou, but I scored some great sandals

{Yes, I know the formatting is abnormal, but because of the VPN, bandwidth, computer illiteracy and kismet I don't know how to fix it.]
So. This afternoon the conference excursion was the planned event.  Even though the first bus didn't
leave until after three PM we all suspected that it was crazy blisteringly hot to wander in downtown
Fuzhou no matter how enchanting the sights are.  Nevertheless, the organizers dealt out hats and fans
and water to the hatless, fanless and waterless (don't people plan ahead?) and off we went under the
guidance of a very hard working guide who was not chosen for her dulcet toned voice.  After about 10
minutes I would have put that screeching cat out of it's misery.  Poor thing!  She has no idea how ear
cringingly dreadful she is. So, teeth firmly gritted, we trooped along after her-- and only one of us got
sent home with heat stroke.

We went to see a restructured historical area called "Three Lanes and Seven Alleys" which has been
reconstructed not so long ago to look authentic- but for the modern shops after the facades. Still, it is
worth a look...

Since I am not in  an optimal photo sharing position, here is a linky to some images:
http://www.google.com/search?complete=0&bav=on.2,or.&bvm=bv.50310824,d.cGE,pv.xjs.
s.en_US.I9e44VIvEiw.O&biw=1024&bih=405&um=1&ie=UTF-&hl=en&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&tab=wi&ei=218CUqahJOO
JjALUyICoBA&q=Sanfang%20Qixiang%20%22Three%20Lanes%
20and%20Seven%20Alleys%22

Himself and I are usually not big group follow the leader folks, but this weather really saps any desire
to stroll along back alleys and quiet neighborhoods  on our own.

This was actually our travelers' nightmare. Huge group, strident guide, off the charts heat and humidity- and
nothing really exraordinary if you have been in China before.  It was the children's first Chinese history moment; but I think the heat made it less wonderful than it could have been.

It was a blessing to go play tourist shopping the last hour. Many of the shops are air conditioned.

My flip-flops (which I had gone all over Holland to find) were falling apart.

 Sweetpea had developed the dreaded enormous heel blisters and had been wearing them non-stop since we got here- I think that constant readjusting ( we do not have anywhere near the same feet) and cheap construction combined- so there I was digging my toes into the sole to keep the dang sandals on--
further aggravating my great toe- which toe hates the compression socks- which I must wear to offset elephant legs- which are brought on by heat and humidity- so I need sandals.

While cooing and oohing over very expensive backpacks and bags with panda, shark and cute as all get out
designs, I spied with my little gotta go see every shoe store on earth eye, a small section of sandles
at the back of the store...12 euros later I have a fine pair of well fitting good looking flappers.
I love a good shoe bargain.

We staggered back on the bus to return to the venue- where we drip dried during yet another hit-or-miss
recipe collection buffet for dinner.  As we walked out the dining hall door, Himself was informed he was
expected for an unexpected meeting. We had talked about me getting a pedicure and a foot massage after
dinner and were sort of heading that way.

So we collected Lady Professor Xi'an for translation and information help and swanned off to the spa.
Himself went on to his meeting from there while we ladies skinnied up the narrowest circular stairs I
have ever seen to go up to the massage and body care area ( where even your ears can be cleaned for a
fee.)

Once everything was in order, I bid a grateful farewell to lady professor and with watermelon juice in hand,
settled in for my treatment.  The pedicure took nearly an hour- and that was with no fussy polish. He used only a sharp instrument to cut nail, dry skin and callouses away. It was amazing to see him work.  Then he went on to give a from the knees down full out therapeutic foot massage lasting about an hour as well.
And all of this attention for less that 50 euros. These folk really work hard for so little.

By the time I got back to the room, Himself came back from his meeting- and then we sorted laundry for
pickup tomorrow. Who knew that laundry was going to be a major line item? I do not remember paying
through the nose before- but you gotta have clean undies.

Himself decided a dip in the pool would be a great way to end the day and remove a layer of the day's
sweat- alas- 10 PM is closing time- so showers must suffice--tomorrow is another day to swim.

But swim in sweat or swimming pool is the question.

Frying in Fuzhou (but it was cool getting here)

It was exciting  when the 2013 DPC conference venue was chosen for  Fuzhou, China.  Of course, Himself was expected to attend,  I was more than happy to go,  then we decided to take SweetPea and The Boy along.  With school and other constraints, the regular summer conferences usually meant a very spoiled stay with the grandparents. Now they are young adults; they can't afford a trip like this.  We think this is the last great family  journey before they are off creating their own histories. So it began:   we had two years to pull it off.

Airfares were going to be the biggest budget item we thought at the time. So we hoarded  every air mile we could earn. This was helped by an unexpected trip to China last autumn.  And KLM issues air mile tickets by leg of journey. This meant it cost no more extra  to fly in and out of different cities as it would by purchased tickets.  A program change downgraded my air miles card, but Himself is still Elite, a bonus for us all in efficiency and comfort as we would find out later.

The extra trip in between demonstrated just how much the economy, and prices had changed since our first trip back in 2005.  Our revised  budget was going to be very different; hotels were now raising prices, and tourist tickets were also increased.  I began to fret over this to The Man Upstairs, because nothing ruins my travels more than watching every single atom of food, sip of drink, and curtailing adventures because of budget cuts…

And so my frustration was heard.  A second conference was added (invited speaker’s stipends are a good thing,)  colleagues in Xi ‘an and Beijing requested seminars as we pass through their area. Those universities will accommodate all of us, and are planning full out sightseeing programs for the family. I started to relax a bit about funding this excursion.  Even when the car needed repair…

A former student will get married next week. He planned his wedding so we could be there—and has laid out a full schedule of tourism in Wuhan.  He is being so generous we finally had to put our foot down about the room and board. Gosh.   Yiming has greased the wheels of train ticket and domestic flight tickets purchasing as well.  Abundant hospitality.  We are totally in awe of what folks will do for us.     

Actually the most complicated part of the journey was wrangling visas for our stay which required three trips to The Hague, and the addition of extra pages in my passport…who knew?   And appropriate clothes…it took some preparation to get here.

A check of the climate told us that we were headed for “the sweatbox of China.” Apparently that is something people are proud of. Huh.  Since  the Dutch weather is cold and wet most of the time, finding subtropical weight clothes in a local store is sort of beyond hope. And so I sewed, and sewed and sewed…and will blog about that in another place.

Our housesitter had to cancel for dreadful personal reasons and every other avenue was a dead end so we literally nailed things shut, and put grates on the windows.  The lovely neighbors will be in and out as will a trusted friend so we hope that the burglars will leave us alone. But there were moments when we thought we’d have to worry about security for the entire trip.

Writing about it now seems like a distant memory, but I assure you July was not a calm month. But the day finally arrived and we left.

Other than not having printed  boarding passes for the children for the second leg of the trip in, we actually enjoyed our checkin for the first leg of the trip.  Because Himself is Elite, we are in the fast lane for everything, just following like little ducks along the way.  We even got through security without a hassle this time ( although SweetPea had a tiny pair of blunt nosed scissors in her first aid kit that the Chinese guards removed)

As we were scanned in to the departure gate, the machine binked red and Himself had a seat change.  I had worried about this a bit because often the air mile seats are in a different section than purchased. BUT, this time, it was that his seat was upgraded to Business class.  Well, that meant to the family that uncomfortable me was going in the front alone. Um well OK.  So then the gate ladies saw that PapaDuck had three waddlers behind and they did some magic so that suddenly all four of us were Business class tickets. Now that was so overwhelmingly wonderful  could have kissed them all.

Turbulent flight, terrible food, but oh those seats recline right down flat and have leg room for six in the space of two seats.  Fabulous. Thank you, god of upgrades.

We had a stopover in the boring early morning airport of Guangzhou –where the kids got to eat real Chinese food for the first time- and flew on to Fuzhou.  We were met and delivered to the hotel (whew- one more thing to not worry about) called Fuzhou Lakeside- a 5 star- and the venue for the conference.  It is a decent hotel.  Pretentious lobby, good rooms, fine plumbing  ( something China is not good at) and a whole boatload of cooks who serve hot food cold and the scrambled eggs swim in oil.  Worst food I ever had in China. Really. Except for the bread- some of the best bread- really tasty- and truly solid black. Literally BLACK bread. Your eyes just do not jive with what the tongue tases.

And oh the weather.  35 to 40 Celsius and humidity in the 90’s.  The plus side of that is the swimming pool is 34 Celsius so  I actually will get in and stay in for more than a dip. The family was thrilled to see mama in a swimming pool.  Walking we have decided is for very early in the morning or after dark.

But that is for another post.

Everything but the quack...and LOTS of it ( thoughts on food in Beijing)

The day dawned quietly, without fanfare on the world stage.  The day when comparative  financial security, stable home and hearth, and most crucial, the recognition that what my mother thought did not have to control my every choice, combined.  It was a moment of insight on several levels. One revelation ( on how important a level is yet to be decided) was: I can eat whatever I want now.

To some readers this might be a true shoulder shrug event.  BUT  I grew up in the "poor children in China" clean your plate post war years;  I also struggled for over a decade with buy milk or buy bread decisions as a young single parent on a shoestring,  I deplore waste.  Food preferences weren't optional for much of my life. My parents did not have a three bite rule ( i.e. If you are still gagging after three bites, you don't have to eat it.) although to be fair, they introduced new foods carefully and in small amounts.  My mother ( who has well disguised food issues only perceived as I grew to adulthood) ruled the kitchen. Liver was not on the menu, but strangely lima beans (shiver) were.  This indoctrination extended well into my own home...never thought about it really until the great day came.

HA HAH! I don't have to eat potatoes (until recently when I find I crave mashed),  lima beans, or coriander.  I will never be a tofu eating vegetarian, although  I enjoy less and less meat. And I certainly prefer my food to arrive naked, faceless and wrapped in plastic from the shop.  Food prep, sanitation and storage are important to me ( those food biology classes at University and later as shome child care supervisor cranked up my squeamishness.)

So here I find on the streets of Beijing all that sends my food alarm bells into overdrive.  Unidentified featherless fowl bodies are suspended like clothes on a washline far above the pedestrians but close to the pollution dense streets (more flavor?) Tofu lurks for the unwary on every menu. Meat arrives from the kitchen with eyes and sometimes other bit intact.  I did eat these street vendor wonderful little fruits on a stick.  They were covered with boiling hot sugar syrup so I figure most the germs died. What a crunch sweet blast of flavor!

Some menu items are made out of , erm, guts.  Some things are labelled edible (?) fungus, the consistency of which mildly resembles boiled rubber band. I have developed radar alert for such like things.

Now, truth be told we like most Chinese food. recipes.  Sometimes the variations thereof are scary.  In Beijing they like it spicy. No, I mean they like it hot. lip searing intestine scarring hot.  My friend Laurie would die and go to heaven for the chili paste.  The food radar usually alerts for chilies ..but these cooks are sneaky.  The other morning a grilled tomato with lovely melted cheese looked for all the world like it came from London... via a good long soak in pepper sauce we found to my tongue's shriveled dismay.

We have mostly been able to navigate around pigeon soup complete with decapitated head with beak and eyes, sea cucumber in all its gelatinous ukky glory, and abalone which Himself will eat but did not pass my three bite test.But when someone else is doing the hosting and choosing we have to depend on pure good luck.

Take noodles...I give up. No chopstick skill.  And I prefer not to be the table entertainment chasing my food over the plate. of course everyman here slurps their noodles.  I am still my mother's child enough to know that having a noodle beard hanging out of my mouth over a little bowl it not happening in this lifetime.  Of course someone runs for the fork...but I know me and noodles. It is an eating event reserved for home only even with western utensils.So they know now to order clumsy here dumplings--but please not 5 kinds!!!!!!!!

The Chinese restaurant menu has possibly 200 dishes on it.  We choose maybe two and our hosts urge us to order more more more.  No no no.  Everyone shares what they order, but it is still always too much. I am glad to see that doggie bags are common here so the waste is mitigated somewhat but I see nearly full plates of food go into the bin at most meals. Makes me nuts because I know with a few hundred yards there are folks who have never seen the inside of a restaurant and would love this fresh food. The children don't look like they are starving but still...um the children in Africa are.

On the other hand, nothing of the animal is wasted.  We went to have Peking Duck at this very famous place.Everything is used. yes, even the webs.  And so as the guest of honor, Himself found himself with half a duck's head neatly cleavered in twain upon his plate. Not one to turn down odd food, he did eat.  He lived to tell of it.  Uck.

But then he was born and raised in a country where every bit of the pig is used except the squeak.
His mother would have competed with him to eat it.  My mother would have died right there at the table.
I just go quietly quakers.

Schiphol, where you do not want to be handicapped.

It all started when Himself was invited to Beijing, no actually, it started with the announcement of a conference in China summer of 2012.  Of course, I got on board immediately, as China is high on my list of loved places.  We had  discussed taking Thing One and Thing Two along  because we could show them Beijing on one end of the visit and Shanghai on the other and perhaps Xi'an in between. When this invitation came, I suggested that we tack this other invitational  "sabbatical"  on to the end of that conference/ family visit, send the kids back to University,  and stay on for whatever The Great Minds wanted him.  Well, the great Minds wanted the meeting to happen well before next summer' s end so here we are. And I get TWO trips to China!

It has been a frenetic few weeks leading up to this visit.  We have been burning the candle at both ends to clear our desks and leave tidy piles behind.  A few nerve raveling bumps, as usual, but finally we kissed our teary eyed Sweetpea goodbye at the bus, loaded  up our carefully measured and weighed baggage, and promptly found ourselves in the molasses slow evening rush towards the Amersfoort train station. We missed our train.  Thirty minutes later we did the luggage into the train rhumba and off we went to Schiphol.

On of the nice things about Schiphol is that we are KLM elite flyers so we get the red carpet.  One of the worst things about Schiphol is their cavalier and nearly always unsatisfactory assistance valet service.  So, while checking in is efficient and often lineless,  the wheelchair folks let us down badly,  This time was the worst.

I have been told by a valet that the philosophy of the assistance service is to do the least they can for their customers "so they don't take advantage."  Isn't that just stunning? Imagine coming to the Netherlands for the first time, with a handicap, and  being treated  so shabbily.  What a first impression.  I am ashamed. So, even knowing their track record, this episode was prize winning in its awesome consumer unfriendlyness.  This time we were walked from the cheerless and uncomfortable assistance waiting area through Immigration, which is not that far, and since we go through the fast lane I don't have to endlessly stand, a main concern for me.  So far so good.  We got on the go cart went to security where it took forever and a day because Andries the Anarchist set off all the alarms.  Well, yes, by the time he carries all the equipment and wires and electronics and stuff it does look worrying to security- and then he had a USB stick in his shirt pocket which made us even longer there.

By now our go-cart driver decided that she needed to go to another gate for a pickup because our delay might make her pickup think she wasn't coming.She did apologize saying that the scheduler had her booked very closely. So there we were whizzing right by our gate on the way to go get someone else.  She parked and went off to collect the customer.   We waited.  and waited.  Suddenly all in a rush our valet runs by at speed because she needs a wheelchair. She disappears.  We waited. and waited. and then waited.  Our girl rushes by with wheelchair, followed by another go-cart and driver WHICH IS EMPTY , AND PARKS AT THE GATE.  Our frazzled valet vanishes with wheelchair. We wait five solid minutes.  We can see our gate and our plane leaves in 20 minutes.

We finally decide enough is enough and waddle the way back to our to our gate. Luckily, the shuttle to Paris is not a big long lines kind of departure.  So the standing was do-able.  Luckily, I thought to inquire while on the way to CDG, a confusing a HUGE airport, if a wheelchair would be awaiting.  Mind you, we had reserved one for all legs of the journey AND had email confirmation with us. The oh so French staff were so apologetic. Schiphol had assured them there were no wheelchair folks.   Ah HA.  But yes, they arranged, it was there, and Madame and her trusty valet were off through the cavernous  Paris CDG terminal.  So solicitous,  so polite, and even apologetic when they had to switch valets- which valet wheeled me right to the plane entry with a smile and a steady elbow.

Schiphol is such that I don't remember a valet coming out to  the baggage terminal-- but every where else this is normal. Beijing was no different.  We again were in the express lane, no standing, and he even helped Andries with the baggage! Immigation went smoothly.  Then we were met by two welcoming University students who were to take us to the University hotel by taxi. The valet actually stood there until the taxi was loaded and I didn't have to stand in line at all. Now THAT  is a real blessing to me. and is the way handicapped folks should be treated.

I so appreciated that I am not wheelchair bound.  When I must use one, I am often struck by the way the rest of the world treats the differently abled.  Huh, and we call ourselves civilized.  But we are safely in Beijing, and the saga begins....