We are all back in Dalian loving being at home.
As I type this, Dinbit is asleep at my feet.
Buchela is slumbering, leaning his head on my chest.
And I am listening to one of my all time favorite African songs with my husband.
The song takes us to different places.
Him to Tanzania and me to Ethiopia.
I present to you the stunning Brenda Fassie.
I especially love the part when she tries to get Mandela to dance with her.
I love her energy.
Once again, I feel the love from Addis Ababa.
My Mahiber friends envelope me in a circle of friendship that extends all the way to China.
She arrived on June 18th, in the middle of the night, bearing precious gifts.
Some of the Kolo (Ethiopian whole grain snack)busted out of its bag but we rescued it onto a plate.
She also brought some Kitfo (with kocho, gomen, and ayeb!!) some green coffee, some frankincense (itan).
Buchela doesn't like wearing cloth anymore. He thinks they are just for going outside.
The first to go were the shoes. In fact, all of us prefer to be barefoot in the house.
At the dinner table:
Buchela: "Mama! Mama! Look, a tree!" he yells in his most excited, I just found out something new voice.
He is holding up a piece of broccoli.
Me: "Oh Buchi, that is bro..."
My voice trails off.
I study his face.
I change my mind about what to say.
Imagine being invited to come and have coffee on a Saturday morning with a couple of friends.
Imagine you accept gleefully because, not only do you like the people who invited you, but you have also been cooped up in the house all week as a result of being hugely pregnant and on "light bed rest".
On Saturday morning you wake up in a crappy mood. You hadn't slept well and your back is hurting.
You think about canceling and staying at home for the morning. You had plans to go shopping in the afternoon and a birthday party in the evening. You think it is probably wise to pace your self.
Then you talk yourself into going because you know getting out will cheer you up.
Your husband offers to walk you over.
That was me Saturday.
Me: "Isn't he cute? I have never met a child like him. I think he is very smart. I think he is pretty special... I mean it."
Hubby: Yeah. He is very very special. But you know, every parent thinks their child is special. So, you know, we are no different.
Me: Yeah, but Buchela IS really special. I mean, for real! He is pretty amazing... objectively speaking.
Saying it is a popular form of entertainment here in China is a huge understatement.
Just in our area alone, there are several big buildings, that resemble Las Vegas hotels, dedicated just for the art of karaoke singing.
I have always wanted to go, so what a perfect time to try something new than when my brother and sisters are here!
So, we enlisted three friends who have the know how about the inner workings of these places and decided to give it a go.
There is a giant swimming pool with slides twenty minutes drive away from our apartment.
We don't go often but when we do, we always have fun.
About ten days ago, when my brother and sisters arrived in China, I was so smitten with the idea of them being here that I didn't mind one bit waiting in line for a turn to use the bathroom in the mornings.
I believe I even went as far as using the word relish to describe my feelings about it.
Well, a couple of days ago, we put up a friendly notice with a new rule on the bathroom door.
It turned out, waiting around for the bathroom when someone is in there for over an hour isn't really all that much fun.
It got pretty old after a few days.
You know what IS fun though?
Trying to come up with an outrageous penalty when the new rule is broken.
Perfectly chewy and yum!
So rare I thought was that chance, to fully take advantage of it, I wolfed down, not one, not two, but nine cookies.
I didn't feel well for the rest of the day.
Our neighborhood at night, dimly lit living rooms, open windows, glimpses into other people's lives, wondering if they were as happy as they seemed from the outside.
Or which households had drunk daddies, cheating wives, midlife husbands driving proverbial corvettes. Their kids smoking pot in their bedroom. At twelve.
All the imaginable cliches.
Buchela has made it clear that he doesn't want his shoes taken off.
Ever!
This is a new thing with him and has lasted about a week so far. He goes to sleep with his red shoes on top of his pajama feet. He cries when they are temporarily taken off to bath him, to change him, and to put his clothes on. And he insists they be put back on as soon as whatever activity that parted him from his favorite footwear is finished.
Oh, and he definitely doesn't want to wear any other shoes.
So, we are indulging him.
At nap time, we just keep them on. At night, we have been taking them off after he falls deeply asleep. So far, we have had to get up, look for them, and put them back on in the middle of the night only once.
These fleeting habits kids develop pass, some quicker than others. But they are certainly the stuff memories are made of.
My little gentleman Buchela loves to give rides to his stuffed animals.
Sometimes, he ferries them around the house.
Drops them off in different rooms.
Picks them back up.
And takes them back to their place.
When we went to our Swedish freinds' house, Buchela was really happy to be exploring a brand new home.
So, we let him roam free.
Then, as we sat around and chatted, our little dude showed up holding a broom and donning one dress up shoe that belonged to our friends' daughter.
