HELP! What To Do?

This is a long post, but please read it -- I need your advice on this one, so do leave a comment or drop an email (just remember the communication guidelines, please).

The hardest aspect of life in Changsha, China is not the persistent grime, or the language barrier, or spending a sick night in the bathroom.

The most difficult thing is the ubiquitous beggars. Or, knowing what is my role in helping these people, who are so in need.

Beggars are inescapable, especially on busy streets. They sit in the middle or the side of the filthy, filthy sidewalk, grimy moisture constantly being kicked onto their faces: The decrepit old man with a grimy beard, the hobbled old women with worn faces, disfigured and disabled people, the blind, the lame, and -- most painful -- ashamed mothers with their small children. 

I know that the United States has a huge homeless population, but I have never had to face this problem on a daily basis, growing up in a rural mid-sized town, being isolated on a college campus, and then living in suburbia. Poverty, to me, was out-of-sight and out-of-mind. 

I cannot escape it here. 

But I am constantly frustrated because a solution seems impossible. I've asked my China-seasoned teammates and believing Chinese friends what to do. They agree that there is no simple solution. My Chinese friend said that there's a few categories of beggars:

1) They're acting deceptively (toting some story like "searching for my run-away son -- please help").

2) It's their job (blind guy gets on the bus and sings through a backpack amplifier, while his old man partner collects donations).

3) Some pimp-like person is dumping them off and picking them up, taking unknown percentages of the day's donations (especially true of the disabled and elderly persons).

4) No pimp-guy, just a person in need.

Discerning between these four is difficult. I've been told not to give to 1 & 2, but 3 & 4 is ok. Most beggars are category 3, but I'm torn! How much of the given money is actually helping the person? How much is going to their malicious, greedy pimp? But if I don't help this person to meet their "quota", will they be punished tonight? If I keep giving to beggars, does this teach people that they can depend on a life of begging, rather than finding a sustainable living?

Some have suggested giving food or other goods, rather than money. This is problematic as well, because the beggars rely upon looking poor to generate more donations. Say I give a blanket to a beggar in the cold -- they may not appreciate it, because it makes them look less needy. The pimp guys want their beggars to look as pitiful as possible.

Every time I pass someone begging on the street, my heart aches I hold back tears of frustration and sadness. Where is the care for human life!? How can I pass by -- allowing His wonderful creation to suffer, sitting in filth, starving, undignified, unloved. One day, in the rain, I passed a ragged mother holding a baby Titus's age, while her toddler slept on a towel laid over the sidewalk. The crowds pressed all around. To her, no one seem to care that her babies had nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep - no one, I realized, including myself. I cried to the Father, "What can I do!? Please tell me what You want me to do!" His response: sit down and spend some time with the ones who I will show you.

On a windy and lightly-rainy Saturday morning, Drew, Titus and I were on our way to the grocery store. It was cold enough that we had turned back to our apartment to adorn winter hats, and I felt a bit of motherly-concern that Titus's face was well enough shielded from the wind. In these conditions, a tattered mama sat on the wet street, breastfeeding her baby girl, coffer beside. In obedience to what He told me to do, I sat down next to her, asking questions about her baby and telling her about Titus -- the conversation being as limited as my Chinese abilities. The mood was sad, and tense. She was extremely guarded. In literally ten seconds a small crowd was gathering to see the white foreigner sitting next to the beggar. I handed her 10 yuan and said goodbye. I really couldn't tell if she appreciated my company or not. Maybe she was stunned, or maybe she wished I would just drop money and go away. 

I've felt like crying in public before, but never allowed myself as most people are already staring at the tall white woman with the big nose. Today I didn't care. Drew, Titus and I walked on, and every passer-by noticed the distraught foreigner in tears.

At the grocery store, I forgot about my list and instead bought a few baby items -- a simple pink baby suit, baby socks, a towel, rice cereal, and two jars of baby food. Then we quickly stopped to buy two chicken sandwiches for the mama. All the time I was asking "Please, please Father let this woman feel loved! Tell her that You love her! Please provide for her needs and the needs of her baby girl! Save the baby from a life of poverty and suffering. Please Father!"

I was relieved to find her in the same spot, and I again sat down in the puddle next to her, discreetly presenting the package. This time she seemed more relaxed, and I said "We want to give you these things. Do you know J? He loves you. He wants us to give this to you. He loves you. We will lift you up." She said thank you several times. I put my arm around her, and briefly laid a loving hand on the baby. The crowd was forming again. I said goodbye and cried on the way home.

As we walked, I was impressed with this -- she knows the name of J, but if she is anything like the masses with whom we live each day in China, she knows nothing of His story... promises... love... No one has ever told her, including me! I feel like she doesn't have a chance. And so I felt angry. Angry at those who have heard, a million times, and have had a million chances to accept, to receive, to believe and still turn Him down. I know this isn't the right thing to feel or say, but its how I felt.

So what do you think? How should I be responding to the beggars all around me, everyday?

Thanks,

Rachel

In my journal:

G, You are near. You see me and my dilemma. You see each beggar -- each woman and her baby sitting on the busy, wet, dirty streets -- the heels of passers-by flipping slop onto the baby's face. Hungry, cold, tired and ashamed. Feeling sub-human. You see this. A hundred... a thousand people shuffle by and barely notice them. But Your eyes have never left them, not even for a moment...

Mafia with Russians in Chinese & Golf with Chinese in the Dark

FRIDAY

We held a spontaneous birthday party for a Russian friend, and played Mafia in Chinese. If you've never played Mafia before, it involves secret mafia, police, a doctor and townspeople. The mafia try to kill everyone off before being found out and the others try to identify the mafia before being killed. The -- often false -- accusations fly, and one must be able to fabricate a believable story to convince others of one's innocence...in Chinese.

SATURDAY

Chinese and Indonesians came over for games in the candlelight. I guess it was one of those turn-off-your-electricity-for-one-hour days, to save the earth. Aren't we green. The favorite card game was golf, the object of which is to have the lowest score.

And a good time was had by all...

Drew, Rachel & Titus

Sunday Fellowship

Changsha has not starved us of like-minded community; every Sunday afternoon our foreign fellowship gathers in someone's living room. Americans, Chinese-Americans, Koreans, Indonesians and Germans come together -- someone provides music, another a message, and others teach the children's classes in the host's bedrooms.

Drew, Titus and I have taught both the younger children and the older children (there are two classes). The pictures you see below are from a lesson about washing feet, that is, serving one another.

If He washed twelve follower's feet, how many feet did he wash? The four-to-six year olds couldn't do the math, so we drew pictures of the twelve and counted their feet.

We've also had the JOY of sharing a message once and hosting twice. Last week we packed thirty-five bodies into our apartment! I'm scheduled to lead the music in two weeks. Usually we all sing a capella or along with itunes, but I'm hoping to purchase a cheap guitar this week.  

I love love love our fellowship! 

Rachel

Cruisin'

Drew picked out new shoes for Titus, as he had outgrown his old pair. Rubber shoes provide excellent traction for crusin' in the walker.

See how much he loves his walker! 

Oh no!

Problem solved.

What's over there?

Looks like we may have to do some baby-proofing.

What's Up

Hanging out with classmates

Studying Chinese

Playing with Titus

...at our house

...at our teammate's house

in the classroom...

...back at our place

That's what's up.

- Drew & Rachel

He Can Fly

A little news from home (Minnesota):

It's pretty exciting! This weekend Titus's uncle Paul Smith did his first solo flight (and his second, and his third). Yaaahhhh!

Maybe after a little practice he can fly over to see us, right?

This is his aircraft, a Tri-Pacer.

with love,

D + R + T

p.s. At this time we don't have a picture of Uncle Paul in his fei-ji (airplane), so all we can show you now is him riding Diego (not quite the same experience as flying an airplane). 

A Loss of Face

Friday afternoon Drew's college threw a welcome party for the international students. It was a hyped-up, loud conglomeration of performances, emceed by a pretty Chinese girl in red and a suave Chinese man whose styled hair looked more put together than most of the girls in the room.

Performances included traditional Chinese music and dance, martial arts (actually very cool -- one guy was doing flips), audience-participation games, and a Russian belly dancer.

Titus and I went down to participate in a balloon race. The girl emcee started speaking to me in Chinese...I had no clue what she was saying...so with an embarrassed red face I sat back down. 

I lost face. She lost face.

I thought she might have been saying that the game was dangerous for a baby, but actually she was telling me to wait until the next round. A bit later the girl then asked me to come back up, but Titus was fussing and I was frustrated so I tried to kindly decline, though my frustration was undoubtedly displayed for all to see. The emcees, left in an awkward position, made up some excuse "if the balloon pops it might scare the baby". At the time I didn't understand what was going on -- my teammate filled me in later.

She lost face again.

The party was dragging on, the room was hot, Titus was hungry -- so after a few more minutes Drew and I left, trying to look as though nothing was the matter.

She lost face again. The administration lost face.

Later that afternoon, one of the administrators, called Drew on his cell phone to ask if I was upset. She said that the emcee girl was very sorry, and that I should come by their offices next week to play some games. She was trying to rebuild face! So next week I shall go to see her and say "It was nothing! No problem! Don't worry about it!" And smile. And offer for them to hold my baby. And compliment them.

This is the expected and culturally appropriate means of restoring face and ensuring that the relationship has not been hurt.  

Maybe someday I'll get this Chinese culture thing down -- and aarrrggg -- maybe soon I'll begin to understand more Chinese language.

- Rachel

p.s. Here's some pictures from the party. Although leaving early might have caused some to wonder if I was upset, it at least caused us to miss the belly dancer performance, which we heard was completely awkward.

How to Pronounce "Changsha"

One interesting thing about studying Chinese:

The Romanized form of Mandarin, called "pinyin", is not always phonetically similar to English pronunciation. For instance, the city Shang Hai is always pronounced incorrectly in English (click on the link to hear correct pronunciation). We have found that most people, when pronouncing the city in which we live, rhyme "shang" with "chang". For us this mispronunciation sounds pretty funny.  

Anyway, here is the pronounciation for Chang Sha.

Drew

All Better

Though his nose is still dripping, Titus seems to be feeling good!  

On Tuesday we again spoke with a Western doctor in Beijing, who, based on Titus's symptoms, recommended that Titus see a doctor. The main concern was Titus's persistent vomiting (I later realized that he was just vomiting because the mucus in his throat was causing him to gag). 

We were referred to a Chinese doctor in Changsha who apparently had received some training in Western medicine. At the hospital, Bitsy (our team leader who is proficient in Chinese) and I checked in, receiving a hand-written scratch piece of paper that said "child". I paid about $1.20 USD at the next window.

We then walked through the outdoor courtyard, a waiting area filled with patients. Most of the children sat with IVs in their heads or hands, as their mother or father held a metal pole from which the IV med was hung. A middle-aged woman lay on a stretcher bed.

The pediatric ward was dark and dingy. Rows of pew-like benches lined the center of the hall, with a track for hanging IVs running its length. Can you imagine a room filled with kids and babies who have tubes running to their hands and heads? I guess Chinese love IVs.

In a smaller room, a man dressed in a white coat and face mask sat at a desk, towards the rear of the room. The only other objects in the room were a rusty-legged exam bed covered with a grayish sheet, a trash can, a sink, and a 1950s-style hand-washing chart. In line, mothers of screaming babies said "Don't cry. The foreign baby isn't crying."

With other patients pressed around us, Dr. Yu listened to Titus's heart and lungs, and tried to get the tongue compressor in for a look down the throat. He used a regular silver flashlight to check Titus's ears, and determined that Titus simply had a cold. Tylenol was prescribed for the fever, amoxicillin for the cold.

After ascending the crowded stairs, we entered the pharmacy, which looked more like a bus station. Long lines of patients pushed towards several glass windows from which medicines were picked up a paid for. After waiting in three different lines, and paying, it was determined that the amoxicillin was unavailable. So we got our money back and left.

Back on our street, Xin Min Lu, we stopped at a drug store adjacent to our bus stop, where the amoxicillin was sold for another $1.20 USD. But I never gave Titus the amoxicillin -- he was looking better -- and I read that the American Academy of Pediatrics advises against giving kids under six any OTC cold medicines (ok I know amoxicillin isn't a cold med), and yeah, antibiotics are perhaps overused, and our American nurse friend suggested that I NOT give it to him.

Instead, Titus got to hangout in the steamy bathroom to help loosen the mucus. On Sunday night he wouldn't relax unless being rocked and soothed with singing; I stayed up all night holding him. Monday night I wised up and let him sleep in our bed. We were both much more rested in the morning.

Positives from this experience:

1.  successfully navigated the Chinese health care system and located a local doctor with some Western training

2.  friends showed their love: 

-  while cooking us lunch, I could hear our new Chinese friend fervently interceding for Titus from the kitchen

-  our team leader willingly dealt with the communication stress and forged the line-waiting at the hospital

-  our teammates cooked dinner and brought it over on Monday

-  other workers (who have kids) in Changsha called to offer advice and ask how Titus was doing

Tuesday morning: Feeling more decongested after taking a shower with Mama, wrapped in a towel and a blanket, checking out Mama's mascara

Wednesday: Feeling much better and playing with Drew's language tutor at our apartment (this tutor visits us every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon)

Thank you again for thinking of Titus through this sickness!

Tomorrow we're having some Turks over for pizza; oughta be superfun.

Rachel & Drew

Bad Evening of Baby Suffering

You all have been so kind; thank you for your concern. I (Rachel) am feeling 100% better.

I'm a mite embarrassed that my husband posted such an explicit title about my condition -- but if that was "Bad Night of The Runs" tonight was "Bad Evening of Baby Suffering".

Titus displayed mild cold symptoms late yesterday and throughout today. We decided not to go out to dinner with our friends tonight so Titus could rest at home. This evening he was not only suffering from a cold, but had a mild fever and was screaming, sobbing and vomiting. Mom had tears too. Dad stayed rational.

We called our American mom-of-three in town. We called our team leader to give her the FYI. We called our American nurse and mom-of-two in town. We called "SOS", our health insurance hotline, to speak with a Western physician in Singapore (your support dollars at work).

Titus is now sleeping, at a slight incline to help with congestion, and hopefully resting in some of the words I sang to him before bed:

When peace like a river attendeth my way

when sorrows like the sea billows roll

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say

It is well, it is well with my soul

and

JC loves me this I know

for the good book tells me so

little ones to Him belong

they are weak but He is strong

I guess it goes without saying -- we ask for your thoughts for little Titus.

thanks,

Drew & Rachel

Bad Night of the Runs

Over the last month it hasn't seemed so bad living in a different country.  Last night I was reminded of some of the drawbacks, like when your body rejects the food you have eaten.  If you would lift Rachel up that would be great.  She didn't sleep last night and was in so much pain the experience was akin to giving birth (for both of us).  On a positive note, it was pretty much the first night that Titus went without a night feeding.  Great timing little guy!

Drew

Bitsy Ayi

In Chinese culture, one should call any adult of one's parents' generation Aunt or Uncle. Titus has a special Ayi (Aunt) Bitsy, who is our team leader. Bitsy Ayi babysits Titus every Monday from 2-5pm, while Mama and Baba are at the tutoring center. She gives Titus a feeding of mushed solid foods, changes diapers, puts him down for a nap, plays with and consoles him until Mama gets home with the milk. As you can see, Titus loves his Bitsy Ayi, and Mama and Baba sure appreciate her loving care for Titus.

Love Me Tender