My latest column for Expat Focus Those dam butterflies in my stomach… they're persistent buggers! I try to catch my breath, inhaling, deeply… as our car crawls slowly in and out of lanes, jammed with thick Saturday evening traffic. We are late. Naively forgetting about the headache of weekend traffic in China, we've severely underestimated how long it will take to get to our destination, normally a 20 minute drive across town. This was going to make it harder to arrive 'inconspicuously' let alone the nagging fact, the small, subtle bunch of flowers we'd ordered for the birthday girl was China-sized, China-decorated. This means big and garish. Even less opportunity to slide in, in low key style. I breathe. Realistically, you can go years without meeting new people. If you want to. Life gets busy and more often than not, it's all too easy to be content with friends in our 'hood, our work mates, family around the corner. More often than not, it's all you need to sustain a comfortable, easy lifestyle, isn't it? Sometimes, in all honesty, you just don't want the hassle of meeting new people. Who wants to put themselves out there. What? I have to reveal to someone that I'm actually a wine quaffing, cat-loving, former trashy magazine obsessive turned pinterest-nerd?! Sometimes you just can't find new people to meet… like anywhere. Even in the supermarket! (I've tried!) For the love of God, where were all those single men that year I was on the loose (back in the day)! They were actually so few and far between, I had to put myself completely out of my happy, controlled comfort zone to meet my husband. Yes! A blind date! But this is not about my personal life....it's about those Blind Dates we all take as expats or new kids on the block. To read more click over here to Expat Focus for the full column. Proud to share this post over at Seychelle's Mama on her monthly series My Expat Family … [Read more...]
Living in China: Is there a Doctor in the House?
So it's been one of those weeks in deep dark China, where our family needed a visit to the local GP…. Winter lurgies and all are upon us… and after a 20 hour journey from the sunny skies Down Under, to the rather chilly (make that freaking freezing) minus temps of Xi'an -- we're a bit under the weather (literally)! Of course a local GP is not something we've managed to acquire just yet in our short sojourn, so desperate for some TLC, we hesitantly put the call out for an English speaking doctor in town. (I'm told they are few and far between.) Thankfully Little Miss Hotelier's school gave us the lowdown and the next morning we were whisked off to a hospital on the other side of town for a general consultation. Turns out general doctor's clinics as we know in the West are not so common here - got a minor ailment like a cold, the flu, a bug, it's off to hospital, pronto! Most local Chinese people (children included) will immediately opt for the "injection" which is not as lethal as it sounds. Sources tell me it's a drip containing antibiotics. One hit and you're done, no take-home tablets….no medicine! Talk about hardcore. Sounds quite tempting if you ask me, but has left me wondering why the western world hasn't taken up this 'super injection' in the fight against ill health?' Is there a method in their madness? Stay tuned. Or if you know, please let me know! So into the hospital we go (picture 'old fashioned, 1950's grandeur') we are registered at reception and escorted by rather glamorous ladies in uniform (looking more like chic flight attendants) to our doctor's room. A rather sparse but cosy retro style abode….looking anything but clinical (not a stethoscope in sight)! I hold my breath….as we begin to explain why we are there. With our trusty 'ever patient personal translator' in tow for the event, it was a little easier to communicate with our doctor whose English, to be fair… was pretty good! But if you want to go into any sort of detail about your aches and pains, be prepared to launch into a quick game of charades. I must be getting good at waving my arms around frantically in some sort of translatable gestures, because he soon got the gist and got down to business giving my girl the once over. Then with a click of his heels, he was off, leaving us to wait in his room for.. about 20 minutes while he "collected" the drugs. I began to wonder if he was ever coming back or I missed something in translation and we were meant to see ourselves out. But finally he comes back medicine in hand… (a well known global brand of antibiotics, for the record). Having been able to purchase Amoxicillian antibiotics over the road at the local chemist without a prescription, the jury is out on their authenticity and thus, their effectiveness, so I was relieved to have these babies in my clutches. Excitedly, the doctor tells us how good it is to practice his English with his bevy of international patients and does us the courtesy of walking us all the way to the check out, three floors down, all the while chatting incessantly in Mandarin and English,while I frantically try to keep up! His spirits buoyed even more when I tell him my husband works at the Westin hotel, he promises to invite us to many "events"…. What's a new girl in town to do? "Count me in!" I hear myself saying! Fanciful (and most probably farcical) thoughts cross my mind of mingling with Xi'an's rich and famous at future medical soirees! Then he practically walks us to our car.….. this is certainly a new kind of medical experience, with some very personal patient service going on. (In Australia, GP's are so flat out, you're lucky if they open the door for you on the way out!) A couple of days later my 'lurgy' is not budging, so I want to get some better medicine…. did I mention this doctor has text me each day to see how my small person is? It seems I have a direct line to Doctor Who so I easily make an appointment via a text message to him. Now that's service huh! (As long as I don't get stuck in the Tardis!) This time I brave it without a translator, confident we can get through a simple consultation. (There's always charades right?) And we do….then he tells me in his broken English he thinks I am very 'charming' (must be the charades)! I grimace not sure how he's reached this conclusion given I am not really saying too much apart from my throat hurts!! and 'elegant' (again, I wonder about this observation, given I am in puffer jacket with flat boots and dirty hair - don't get me started on the one. single. pair of boots I have been wearing while I wait for our belongings to arrive!) Never thought I'd be desperate for some high heels! (Ok, slight exaggeration… given heels are my achilles heel, 'desperate' about now, is probably an understatement!) So I smile and give a 'xie xie' (thank you) as he asks if he can have a photo. I smile meekly again thinking he will forget soon enough…..brushing it off with a vague nod. But once we've paid and swapped language tips, we are suddenly standing in the middle of the rather large, lavish (hospital need I remind you) foyer and the camera is whipped out as one of the staff members is beckoned over to take our picture. Mr Doctor in his white coat, me in my rather daggy, early morning school drop off jeans and jumper. (FYI "daggy" is Australian for "uncool!") Out of the corner of my eye, I spy another staff member slyly moving in with her phone for a happy snap of me and my new friend. (A hospital foyer it may be, I think -- but better than the underground subway on a Sunday, bursting at the seams with people and having a woman run up through the crowds yelling "Welcome to China" "Can I have your photo!?!") Oh to be the foreign species. Again, I'm escorted to the car park by Mr Doctor, telling me to 'please come again.' For the record I'm hoping a doctor's visit is not a regular occurrence but I smile and nod. He adds, if I've got time, pop in and we can practice our English and Chinese (I'm guessing I don't need to be under the weather for this event)! Would I make an appointment? He stands at the hospital entrance, waving me off like a long lost friend, who's just been to his house for Sunday lunch! I giggle to myself as we drive off from the doctors..... service with a smile! This is China. Ps, Very happy to send this crazy post over to Seychelles Mama for her series on My Expat Family. Just click the picture. … [Read more...]
Hotel Confessions: Cushioned by the Five Star Bubble(s)!
Eight weeks in deep, dark China and hurrah, we are finally in our own apartment (albeit attached to the hotel…which in all honestly is proving more often than not, a 'godsend')! I've come to the conclusion (relatively quickly) living in the five star bubble is an outrageously indulgent, but highly necessary comfort when one is catapulted into central China. Sure, room service delivered at your beck and call and housekeeping every second day is not to be sneezed at, and a direct line to the hotel chef for groceries is part and parcel of hotel life, especially when food 'as you know it' is unavailable and the local supermarkets are filled with just that, 'local' goods displaying a plethora of puzzling Chinese characters. But more importantly when you're in a strange land and there's an emergency, be it serious or perhaps just the need for some decent coffee, oh how I'm thankful for the five star community. Our first night in our new abode (part of the Westin Residences) we'd spent the day packing and unpacking the few suitcases we have with us until our belongings arrive……(which miraculously seemed to have evolved into a fairly hefty amount of loot!) Unpacked and sorted, we looked around and exhaled - this was our spacious, bright, new and ever so modern 'pad' that would become our home in Xi'an. (BTW, now for no other reason than sheer interest value it might be a good time to mention we live above a RollsRoyce showroom? Oh yes we do! Mind you it's not uncommon with China's current insatiable appetite for luxury cars.) As I placed my one ornament in its lone spot, we stood back and exhaled with as much enthusiasm as we could muster, all the while swatting away the underlying but ever present realization that this meant we could no longer pretend we were on an extended sabbatical. This is real. China is officially home. Any self indulgent, self pitying thoughts though were soon met with an abrupt slap when our small person's fingers accidentally met the hot plate in our shiny new kitchen. Of course every parent in this situation silently prays it's not serious and all will be soothed with a cuddle and a kiss (and a lolly or three)…. Here of all places, I was desperately hoping it wasn't a hospital visit, where I suspected there would be no English and it would be a scene resembling anything that we know to be normal. "Please no," I whispered as I watched the tips of her red raw fingers bubble up before us. It was quickly apparent it was one of those moments where an expert opinion was called for, so through tears and anxious parental pacing (thank God for the long hallway) we frantically called the hotel's weekend Manager on Duty, who instantly knew which doctors did house calls and how to call or more importantly 'what' to say. Within 30 minutes they were on our doorstep, along with two hotel staff to translate. It was just as well - because in a moment of shock, dealing with the surreal experience of these two doctors who arrived - their white mini vans with giant red crosses - like something out of the sixties, marching out in their white coats, silver 'doctor's' cases at their side was more than enough to cope with. As anticipated, not a scrap of English was to be spoken as they crowded around me and my whimpering girl on the bed. I heard the words 'Soy Sauce' and 'burn remedy' mentioned in the same sentence and tried not to look alarmed. Thankfully it seemed it wasn't too serious, and their would be no soy sauce or painkillers issued ("these are unhealthy for the body" I'm told - mind you this coming from the land who gobbles up antibiotics sold over the counter sans prescription at an accelerated rate.) I was silently thankful for the kid's Nurofen stashed in the cupboard. The next day, frazzled nerves now calmed, I had the chance to revel in the number of cupboards it seems I now have access to… in my own. private. space. Or so I thought. But it has become rather apparent, you can't just pick and choose the elements of hotel life you prefer. Nicole! if you want the hotel life, you get all of hotel life. The door bell rang at 9am sharp, someone eagerly letting themselves in - at the ready to clean my rather sparse house. Er…um…. put on the spot and slightly conflicted between my want for privacy and those oh so hard to make hotel heavenly beds. My poorer better judgement prevailed and I sent them away….but they were not to be deterred…..before too long, two elderly Chinese ladies sidled on past our 'floor to ceiling' windows, wielding a large broom, evidently sweeping the already spotless balcony and not without having a good peek inside at us - the foreign species on the block! Taken aback but not too shocked - after all I had started to become used to a lack of privacy in my 5th floor hotel suite where maintenance men, housekeeping, laundry ladies, you name it, regularly knocking twice, walking in before I had the chance to get to the door. But things were about to reach a brand new level at the Westin Residences. The two ladies clearly not satisfied with meandering by, were now crouching down at the window of our bedroom, faces pressed hard against the window, waving furiously and smiling at us… I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Instead, I ran to another room to process (in private) what was unfolding on my balcony, before gingerly peering around to see if my daughter was still being eye-balled. Yes. Yes she was. Um…last time I checked I wasn't a goldfish, had two heads or looked liked Angelina Jolie. I gently closed the curtains with a tight-lipped smile. A couple of days later feeling a little under the weather with a winter lurgy, I had an unexpected snooze in the middle of the day (by now 'snooper' savvy, I made sure my Do Not Disturb button was on) but woke to a knock, ignored it…thinking like in any normal circumstances, they'd appropriately exit the building. But oh no…next thing a loud cacophony of "Ni Haos" echoed through the house. Stumbling into the hallway I found four faces looking at me as if to say, ah hello what are you doing here? Er Me? I live here! Who the hell are you!! It's all par for the course it seems when you take on the machine that is China. Xi'an is a city whose people until a decade ago had one five star hotel in their midst. A city that until recently established as a tourist spot very rarely saw a western face. With 8.5 million people all busily competing for a spot amongst the madness, privacy is respected in the loosest sense of the term. But alas, our curious friends aside, I am thankful for the hotel….heck my laundry is done and they serve wine 24 hours a day, even if most varieties are "out of order" unless it's the hard stuff (namely Bai Jiu) you're after. I'm thankful that (power cuts aside) in the hotel world we get a smattering of English channels like BBC, CNN and Sky News - even if the quality of the picture is influenced by seemingly outside circumstances. I'm thankful that when I've been out of the bubble into a foreign world where your brain is sapped of energy not only by the winter chill and imposing pollution, but by just going about your regular tasks like buying a coffee or a can of hairspray - not to mention fending off the constant stares, touches and chatter of passersby, more often than not chasing you down for a chance photo (yes even at midnight boarding a plane) -- I can return to the bubble and seek out friendly familiar faces to chat to in English (relatively easily) about trivial things and have a giggle at our foreign woes. Thankful that I have a driver(s) even if some of them can''t speak any English to take us where we need to go in the ancient capital that's overflowing with all manner of transport….from rickety three wheelers to luxury limos. Thankful that despite crossing five lanes of maniacal traffic, they expertly whiz us through the mighty Xi'an streets on our morning school run. For all intents and purposes, they greet us with a smile, wait patiently for us and most of all, watch our backs (not to mention teach me a new Chinese word every day). I am thankful for the staff who entertain my daughter in the lavish Lobby Bar while I catch up on some work, with a hot mocha in hand that I haven't had to chant the words 'no cream thanks' in Chinese over and over in my head before they take my order, in case I forget. I'm thankful for an internet signal full stop! Even if it's notoriously patchy and takes me three times as long to achieve anything. And as for the bigger things like visa fiascos, I'm thankful for Hotel's HR staff, fluent in English, who can fill in the blanks between our Qing's (please) and Xie Xie's (thank you's)! It's been a challenging two months, but gently cushioned by bubbles of the five star variety. For that I'm thankful! Cheers! … [Read more...]
Expat in a New Country? My Top Ten Survival Tips
Latest Column for Expat Focus.... I've been living in the middle of China for almost two months now. It's my second expat posting, so while I'm not a newbie to "expat life", having bandied about the term 'culture shock' on this column many times, I've got to say, in all honesty I had rather naively forgotten how confronting moving to a new country could be. Arriving in Xi'an, North West China, I knew no one - not a single soul, bar my husband and 3 year old daughter. We arrived at the Westin Hotel - our new home, in the middle of a grey, wet night. A short flight from Hong Kong, but I went from living next door to the world's 7th tallest skyscraper on the 43rd floor to a five story hotel that stands opposite a 1300 year old wild goose pagoda. Chalk and cheese to say the least! It's fair to say, my first week had me lost in a blur of speechlessness, afraid to breathe for fear of being overwhelmed by the rawness of such a contrasting culture. China is a place where road rules seem non existent -- cars, busses, bikes and pedestrians all competing for the same spot with the same vigor, their hands heavy on the horn but not the break. Someone once said, "In China, whatever's bigger, gets right of way!" As a pedestrian, crossing the road is taking your life in your own hands. Undecipherable Chinese characters flash vibrantly on neon-lit signs from the side of buildings, strange looking three-wheeler motorbikes rattle on by, loaded up with precariously balanced goods. Cars mount footpaths for faster access….most toilets are holes in the ground and spoken English is minimal. There is a distinct lump in my throat and that sinking feeling lingers in the pit of my stomach as I desperately try to keep my head above water and tear free, reminding myself this is all part of the 'journey'. To read more click here...to Expat Focus … [Read more...]
When the Lights Go Out: Hotel Confessions
It was late afternoon and little Miss A and I were sitting in the hotel lobby bar having a spot of afternoon tea. (What's a girl(s) to do in a new city!) Ava was doing her best to entertain the staff….regaling them with tales about dad liking beer, mum speaking Chinese (I do?) and did you know I wore a purple wedding dress when I got married! (I did?) I was cringing a little at what might be revealed next, but just quietly, enjoying the peace -- when 'boom' the lights went off. Nothing too serious, we initially thought. Nothing to bat an eyelid over…naturally there was a bit of commotion, some surveying of the damage. Was it just in the bar or the was the entire hotel without power? Wait, we think it's the whole area! I casually queried whether this was a normal occurrence? There is apparently a government request for businesses and homes to reduce their power usage between 4 and 6pm but the staff were confident this wasn't the problem. In perfect timing, Ava needed the toilets, which of course happened to be in pitch black, so we called it a day on our fancy cakes and went upstairs to our room. By now the sun was setting and dusk meant it was getting rather dark. The hotel known for its vivid red glow was gradually becoming a shadowy figure of its former self. Given the small fact that candles pose an insurance liability in a hotel, I decided we had no choice but to head to the (conveniently located on our floor) 'executive club'. After all, what's a girl(s) to do in a power outage? A glass of red for me and apple juice for junior, that's what! Emergency lights kept things (like my wine glass and the all important fairy wings) manageable…...meantime, a frantic hotelier I know was in and out trying to ascertain the problem through various muddled translations from Chinese to English with his number two and the powers that be… (no pun intended). Generators were hastily arranged for and negotiations(?) on price underway. Meantime, irate customers paying through the nose, were clearly getting hot under the collar at the lack of five star facilities, naturally oblivious to the fact this 'unexplained event' seemed to be in no one's control. 10pm and still no one is any the wiser on why the power cut has occurred....(at least no one is taking ownership). For the frantic hotelier, answers are lost in translation and things are getting chaotic with the generators still no where to be seen. When they finally do appear, it seems they have come with the wrong bolts to connect these thick, rope-like cables that are now splayed out across the bowels of the hotel. (The hotelier's aware one wrong connection and it could go more than a little haywire!!) I can feel his blood pressure rising by the minute…… as he bids us goodnight to survey the scene - us tucked up in bed clutching our torches. I wake every half hour, the air now stifled with no air-conditioning, no clock or phone to tell the time….and still, no hotelier. He tells me later, there are frustrated guests lining up at reception in what is now the middle of the night ready to report the injustice of such an atrocity on social media the next day….then there's the drunk woman who's planted herself precariously on a chair in the lobby, too intoxicated to find her room. An Australian is checking in at 130am - behaving far more reasonable than most (go Aussies!) as he's told of the current dire situation. "Sorry Sir, this is not Fawlty Towers, yet." A few restless hours later, voila - it's 4am on the newly-lit clock and the entire room lights up, hell the door bell even rings, the air conditioning starts whirring….and we are back in business, my small person none the wiser. Phew. The hotelier arrives minutes later…. exhausted and still unclear as to what has just occurred in the last 12 hours. But for now the hotel is charged up! A few hours later, it's a new day, he's up and off to see the Power Bureau. Apparently a show of authority will ensure more efficient 'handling' of the problem at hand. We wait…. Mid afternoon and a damaged cable is found 120 metres from the hotel and things are hopeful of being resolved (provided the hotel agrees to fork out the cost of fixing the wayward cable) but not in any hurry... and certainly not soon enough for the enraged client who's holding a swanky corporate party in the sunken garden that evening, boasting enough lights to sink a battleship (or possibly a hotel)?! Who really knows….... The generators pump furiously through the day and night to keep the hotel in action but the luke warm water and intermittent power shortages are not enough to keep hotel guests from blowing off steam at any moment. The pollution in Xi'an is not the great at the best of times and now fumes from the generators are wafting through the atrium, guests now complaining they are suffocating. I think the hotelier is greying by the second. Another night and between 4am and 7am the power switches on and off several times, each time it does, the door bell rings. I'm starting to think maybe I really am in Fawlty Towers. After all, this is China. Basilllll!!! … [Read more...]