It’s a sunny morning in Guangzhou. I’m reminded of that old “hello muddah, hello faddah” song where the kid is writing from summer camp, begging to go home, until the end of the song when it stops raining and he tells them to disregard his letter. Now that the rain’s stopped here, we’re smiling again, engaged in our favorite pastimes. James and Lilia are shopping for electronics (okay, that may not be Lilia’s favorite pastime yet, but she gets to ride in the carrier). Ryan and David are playing at the park (Ryan’s plan was to hop on stones while David practices his trumpet). And I’m sitting outside a coffee shop on a warm, peaceful morning, watching people stroll under the canopied central path of Shamian Island. Life is good.
There’s an elementary school a few doors down. Every morning hundreds of kids, wearing white shirts and royal purple shorts or sweat pants, fill the outside square to go through their calisthenics. Right now, they’re running around in circles, yelling and laughing. All the open spaces on the island are decorated with beautiful bronze statues and well-used by the residents. At lunchtime, the park along the Pearl River is crowded with adults grouped in circles playing hackey-sack or practicing tai chi. At one end of the park, couples waltz to music blaring from a boombox. The vibrancy of daily life that we’ve seen in every place we’ve visited on this trip is a paradox to the stringency of government mandates such as the one-child policy.
There’s an elementary school a few doors down. Every morning hundreds of kids, wearing white shirts and royal purple shorts or sweat pants, fill the outside square to go through their calisthenics. Right now, they’re running around in circles, yelling and laughing. All the open spaces on the island are decorated with beautiful bronze statues and well-used by the residents. At lunchtime, the park along the Pearl River is crowded with adults grouped in circles playing hackey-sack or practicing tai chi. At one end of the park, couples waltz to music blaring from a boombox. The vibrancy of daily life that we’ve seen in every place we’ve visited on this trip is a paradox to the stringency of government mandates such as the one-child policy.
Getting back to the true topic of this blog, I’m pretty sure at least one of Lilia's parents was an acrobat, or should’ve been. She's very petite, but incredibly physical. She won’t sit still in a lap for long, and if we aren’t keeping her amused, she’ll try to backflip out of our grasp. Everything is a huge bouncy, rolling, climbing game. She readily rewards us with huge smiles and laughs. Although she spent a year in an orphanage, I think she got a decent amount of attention, stimulation and love. She’s such a happy, inquisitive, playful baby. For that, we are so thankful.
p.s. If you click on the photo with the preschoolers wearing red, you can see what their teachers' tee shirts say.
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