Sheryl Sandberg, China & Me Read online

  And so the long walk to the bus stop began — without the dog. The would-be Defectors talked quietly amongst themselves as they walked ahead of the Warden and her husband. They certainly were plotting their escape.

  Indeed, Jane already announced that she had “given China a chance” and “hated it” and was “demanding” to return to the States immediately. Surely, the other two were negotiating safe passage with her. We’d have to alert the Ayi (housekeeper) and Driver. A Shawshank escape was clearly under development.

  Frankly, Jack and I wanted to head for the States ourselves and leave the three Defectors and the dog in Shanghai.

  When the first two Defectors were loaded on their prison bus, we learned the truth from the third. “So, is school really that bad?” the Warden asked. “No, I kinda like it,” the littlest Defector replied and rode off to school without a care.

  %$#@!! So maybe Notre Dame football isn’t the only thing that makes me swear!

  In fairness, it is hard to make the transition from living in the States to China. School is a particularly difficult transition because the teaching styles are so different. In China, school is more demanding. You are expected to be responsible for yourself, your work, your extracurricular activities. There is no spoon feeding here.

  We have issues with the uniforms. Our Ayi (“Alice”) is very efficient. She does laundry every day. If you leave it out, it gets washed, ironed and put away whether it needs it or not. She irons my workout clothes. She does. Having your laundry done for you daily is great except that we never know exactly where Ayi puts our clothes away.

  Each morning, the children hunt for school uniforms that could be anywhere — in the dryer, in their sister’s drawer, in Mom’s closet, in Henry’s closet or with the dry cleaning. It’s funny, after everyone’s dressed and on the bus (and even when you are throwing clothes every which way in the morning). But it adds to the children’s morning stress about school. Each morning, as we go through this ritual, it reminds them that they are not at home.

  Still, it isn’t all porridge and drudgery. Jane already spent a day with friends exploring a new mall. Henry is fielding requests for more play dates than we can schedule and is the neighborhood playtime leader. He and Bella have an organized gang and kids are at the front door every day. Bella has made loads of friends at school and seems to be settling in well.

  Our informant network is better here than in the States. The Defectors are not loyal to each other. Having Henry at Jane’s school is a real boon for the Warden. Henry reports that Jane does talk to other kids on the bus, does have friends and does smile at school — even during gym.

  Bella is an even better informant. According to her latest report, Toby has asked Jane whether she is busy next weekend, and Toby is a BOY!! While no confirmation has been made of his national origin, we believe this young man to be an Aussie.

  Jane tells me that this is not a date. He is a friend only. But, she asked me to make an appointment for a shampoo and blow dry on Saturday before her mani/pedi. She’ll be done at noon and will spend the afternoon with Toby.

  The smaller Defectors have proven useful and are rewarded often with chocolate croissants and extra rations of Nutella.

  Two weeks in and things seemed pretty good. I had to work over the weekend in Tianjin. Jack picked me up at the airport and we headed to our favorite blues bar, The Cotton Club. It was a good night.

  On Sunday, the girls got new haircuts, we went out for breakfast, finished homework, ate dumplings and gelato, watched Henry at soccer and had a great day.

  Later that night, Henry “Skyped” with his best friend in the States for an hour and we all laughed as Jane went running up and down the three flights of stairs to the roof with her phone.

  The on-again-off-again Internet and phone signals were interfering with Jane’s texting obsession. Bella explained to us that Jane was going to the rooftop to check her messages and text her friends. Bella figured it was Toby but we never asked Jane. She was all smiles though. She’ll have great legs after this is over!

  So, feeling good about ourselves, we opened a bottle of wine and put the kids to bed and headed to the rooftop deck . . .

  This morning, the hangover returned. China sucks. The Defectors are plotting again . . .

  Oh Martha

  September 2011

  Shanghai

  “I don’t know” is the phrase we most often hear out of Jane’s mouth. I don’t know what I want to wear. I don’t know what I want to eat. I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know . . . I don’t know . . . I don’t know.

  Well, there is one thing Jane does know, and it’s that she has no talent. Just ask her.

  She is the worst kid in school, she can’t make friends and she has no natural ability to do anything. She is a 14-year-old girl on her way to oblivion. Worse, she has found oblivion and it is in Shanghai.

  That is, until she met Mr. Bell, her drama teacher. I haven’t met the man but when I do (this evening), I may kiss him. He told Jane on her second day of school that she was the kind of kid that really “ticked him off.” Jane has “loads of talent” but won’t show it to anyone. I love this man.

  Mr. Bell coaxed Jane to get up on a chair in front of the drama class, told her to stand on one leg with her hands over her head and threw a box at her. Jane never flinched. He fell in love with her in that instant, and she with him. Thanks to this little drama exercise, Jane tried out for a part in Arsenic & Old Lace even though she didn’t know if she could really do it.

  Drama is serious business here. The International School has its own theatre. It is a very professional theatre — sound, lighting, professional sets — the whole nine yards. This place knows “art” and “craft.” So, on Tuesday, Jane went to audition for a part — any part — in the play.

  Mr. Bell had all of the actors read for the lead roles. Jane read for the part of Aunt Martha. Mr. Bell told her she did well, suggesting she return for another reading on Wednesday and to try and be “older.” To be “old,” Jane took one of her Mom’s old lady sweaters, Henry’s glasses and a pair of knee highs — worn slightly askew — and returned on Wednesday. Mr. Bell was polite but non-committal. There were many older girls trying out too; auditions are open for students from Year 7 to Year 14 (middle school and high school).

  Jack and I are so proud of her. Jane is shy and it’s hard for her to put herself out there but after the first step, she shines. Today we learned that Jane was cast as the understudy to Martha. We are over the moon! The high schooler cast as Martha has some “commitment issues” so Jane may take the stage as Martha for at least one performance. She will prepare as though she was the lead.

  Mr. Bell called her out in class today and congratulated her on her audition, her ability to take direction and to return in character and avoid over-doing “old” by being ancient. Her lack of stage experience was a concern but her choir experience made clear that, while she is quiet, she understands projection on the stage. Jane claims she has no idea what Mr. Bell was talking about but we think she did.

  We really are thrilled. It is the perfect way for Jane to get comfortable in this new genre, make friends and build confidence. She’ll call you and underplay her excitement but she was beaming today. I really think this will help the transition.

  Of course, when you ask Jane how things are at school she will be sure to tell you that they aren’t going well. Oh, Martha!

  Oh Martha II

  September 2011

  Chongqing, China

  The theatre season is off to an exciting start.

  The Shanghai production of Arsenic & Old Lace made a stunning cast change on Monday, replacing veteran actress Jenny in the lead role of Aunt Martha with a new talent imported from the States, Jane Fox.

  The announcement came just one week into rehearsals.

  It was a surprise to the entire cast, particularly Jane. Showing some real media savvy, Ms. Fox
’s only comment was that she hoped to be worthy of the director’s confidence. Ms. Fox is a fresh faced, young talent who is, as yet, untested in such a major role.

  Director David Bell said Ms. Fox has shown real dedication to the production and an understanding of the role. He said commitment to the role and the production drove the need for the change. Shanghai Theatre News will continue to watch this space.

  Congratulations, Ms. Fox! (If only I could have been there to hear the news directly from you!)

  Hold the Water . . .

  September 2011

  Chongqing, China

  We’ve all been there — you have to pee but you can’t find a bathroom. Well, I’m here to tell you that you can find a bathroom and still not be able to pee. I don’t mean the gas station bathroom is below your personal sanitary standards so you drive 5 more miles, I am talking about standing in the bathroom and wondering how you can get the job done!

  China is a land of contradictions. A country that in some ways is stuck in time and in other ways is leaping ahead of the world’s most advanced nations. The Chinese are selling their relics for pennies in order to replace them with particle board from IKEA. It has become such a problem that if you buy an antique in China, you have to be sure it is “younger” than 150 years old or you won’t be able to take it out of the country. Truly beautiful pieces are given away every day and smuggled out. Entire historic neighborhoods are leveled to make way for high-rise apartment buildings. It is a wonder to me — a sad wonder, really.

  Along “The Bund” in Shanghai, the Chinese pack the public areas along the Haungpu River to admire the spectacular show when the buildings in Pudong light up each evening. The buildings on the Puxi side of the river also light up, but the Puxi side is “old Shanghai” so few care to gaze in that direction. “Old” is not good here. Even recycled content is a bad thing in China — recycled means “old.”

  With all the rush to embrace all that is new and modern, it came as quite a surprise to me to find that modern-day Western toilets had yet to reach commonplace status in China. I had meetings today in Chongqing at our new plant. The day started at 6:30 am with coffee, followed by tea and bottles of water during lengthy meetings. After many cups of tea, many bottles of water and several Coke-Lights, I had to pee.

  Not surprisingly, none of the boys warned me. Among the 20-plus team members on this site visit, I was the lone girl. When I opened the bathroom stall and saw the hole staring back at me, I wanted to cry. Seriously, cry.

  You see, I probably could have figured out a way to manage this little obstacle, even in my heels and wide-leg trousers, but I pulled my groin muscle a few days ago getting out of our “bus” in a skirt and heels. That’s another story entirely, but let me just say that the world is not designed for girls.

  To master the task at hand, I needed a certain amount of leg strength and endurance and, frankly, it was simply beyond my capabilities at the time. I considered it, even tested the leg, but it just wasn’t in the cards and I really didn’t want to find myself on the floor or, worse, in the hole.

  So, I left the ladies room and returned to the conference room with widescreen monitors, United Nations-style microphones, earpieces for simultaneous translation, computer hookups, WiFi access, dual-projection capability and video conferencing and took my seat. I pushed the bottle of water aside and began counting the minutes until we headed to the airport. I could only hope that the airport has better facilities or I’d be waiting until I got on the plane. Who would have ever thought that the airplane bathroom would be my best option!

  If you are wondering what I miss most from the States . . .

  Big Bag O’Money . . .

  September 2011

  Shanghai

  When 1.8 billion people decide to take a holiday, transportation becomes an issue. Jack and I were engaged in the great debate over where to go for Christmas. Ordinarily, we don’t have these debates. We stay home.

  We debate the Christmas menu, the number of presents to be placed under the tree, whether the Christmas Story and/or It’s a Wonderful Life deserve a place in cinematic history, but we do not usually find ourselves debating the relative merits of Malaysia vs. Thailand vs. Australia vs. Bora Bora.

  As surreal as it was to be comparing the beaches, the climates, the grueling flight patterns and the cultural opportunities of these various locations, we were indeed debating where to celebrate Christmas. When I mentioned this at the office, my colleagues looked at me with horror. Christmas was not my issue. My issue was Chinese New Year. Had I booked Chinese New Year?

  “No, I have not.” I hadn’t really thought about it. Chinese New Year is in January. Surely, there was time.

  “Time? Yes, there is time,” I was told. “Space is the issue. There is no space.”

  When 1.8 billion people decide to take a holiday. . .

  These people were surely exaggerating for my benefit. I waited a day — a full 24 hours — before calling my travel agent who told me I’d have to decide on the spot or run the risk of being stuck in China.

  “Stuck?” I asked.

  “Yes, stuck.”

  Here, stuck means actually stuck. No seats on the train. No seats on the bus. No seats on the plane. No Driver. No Ayi. Lots of Chinese piling out of Shanghai, which leaves it deserted and everything closes. Stuck.

  So, on-the-spot decision making commenced this morning at 9. First we checked which flights were available. We had two choices. The better of the two was the 9 p.m. Friday flight out of Shanghai that arrives in Phuket, Thailand at 1 a.m. Saturday. (The return is much better — we leave at 2 a.m. and arrive at 7 a.m.)

  Honey, we are going to Phuket, Thailand for Chinese New Year. We had a few options for resorts, all with special “holiday” rates . . . when 1.8 billion people decide to take a holiday, things get expensive.

  With Thailand booked for January, we scrubbed it off the list for Christmas and decided to stop debating and just pick. It was an almost random decision. We are going to Malaysia for Christmas. Our travel agent was relieved and pleased. And, so the payment process began.

  China is a cash society. You pay by cash. Stores have bill-counting machines like you see in banks. Cashiers check bills carefully to identify fakes. If you pay by credit card, there is an additional fee of 2 to 3% of the total bill. If you are paying with an international credit card, the fee can be higher. Ordinarily, you pay with a bank transfer. But, sometimes, you have to pay cash to avoid any extra fees.

  So, what is a girl to do?

  Well, naturally, she puts on her best black stilettos, marches to the bank and demands 125,000 RMB in small bills, if you please. (RMB is Chinese currency, more formally called Renminbi or Yuan.) She places the wad of bills in what appears to be a lunch bag and walks back to her office.

  What were you expecting?

  Alice . . .

  September 2011

  Shanghai

  You remember Alice from The Brady Bunch, don’t you? She wore a blue starched uniform, lived with the Bradys, made their meals, cleaned their home, made their beds, did their laundry, cared for their dog (Tiger), solved most of their problems and, of course, was in love with Sam the Butcher. Well, Alice moved to Shanghai and she lives with us now.

  Two things in the life of an Expat in Shanghai can make or break your experience — your Driver and your Ayi. We have Shanghai’s best in both.

  Mr. Cao drives a 9-seat Transit complete with a flat screen TV, screaming kids and Katy Perry blasting from the speakers. He navigates this beast all over Shanghai and appears oblivious to the chaos inside and outside the vehicle. He is a master.

  Our Ayi is a wonder. Ayi roughly translates to Auntie in English and commonly refers to a woman who takes care of your home. But, in our house, Ayi really means “Alice” as in The Brady Bunch. Ayi Zhan is our very own slice of Hollywood make-believe. She may not have the blue uniform but she is the glue that keeps our household functioning.

  Imagine it: The dishwasher
won’t stop beeping, the oven won’t turn on, the phone suddenly stops working, your satellite is out, you need to buy meat (and the butcher isn’t Sam) or you want to pay your electric bill. Well, you think it’s your electric bill, but you can’t actually read it. Who do you call? How do you get these things done?

  Well, if you are lucky enough to have Alice arrive at your home each morning, you don’t have to do anything other than look utterly confused. Alice springs into action and everything is handled. We have an island in our kitchen, and the counter top was loose. Alice was unhappy with this situation as it presented a danger to the children. She had the counter fixed. Two days later, it was loose again.

  Jack stepped in to take action and called the maintenance office. Alice watched from the kitchen doorway. Silly American man, she was thinking but she said nothing. Jack explained to the woman on the phone that “yes, someone had been to the house” but “no, it wasn’t fixed.” This went on for 10 minutes with Jack repeating the same phrases over and over. Utterly confused and exasperated, he looked at Alice, held the phone up and shrugged his shoulders.

  Alice intervened. She grabbed the phone, spoke in a very loud and forceful tone, then handed the phone back to Jack and walked back to the kitchen without a word. Jack put the phone to his ear and heard the words “service on way.” Sure enough, 10 minutes later Alice was yelling at the servicemen, marching them to our kitchen and standing over them while they fixed the counter again. It is very secure now.

  Not long ago, Alice commented to our friend Lily (who speaks Chinese) that I did not own an iron or an ironing board. Thus, she was unable to iron the bed sheets. This was a major travesty because while it might be okay for me to sleep on wrinkled sheets, this would never suffice for “Sir.” Lily, of course, told me about this conversation. I made a mental note, but I failed to move quickly enough for Alice.