As American as Pain Au Chocolat

Twice lately I have been reminded of how lucky I am to simply have been born where I was.

Understand this right off the bat - I am not particularly patriotic, not at all really. I have no “Go USA” bumper stickers. I do not fly an American flag. I am not saying I am ANTI America – I am just not a gung-ho “America is the only good country” and “The USA is the very best and no one can ever beat us” kinda gal… I have traveled to several other countries and am open minded enough to realize that the one I currently live in is not the only one that has a lot to offer its citizens.

But TWICE lately new friends I met from China have given me pause – and caused me to not be able to speak for a moment. They reminded me what good fortune I have simply because I am an American.

The first was at an opening night party for a theatre festival. His name was Wangkai and he spoke almost no English, but was totally enthralled by my husband David. They had no common language but by the time I walked up to them they were well into a lengthy conversation about, well, about life! There was a Chinese/English interpreter present but she was a total slacker (frustrating for me as a professional interpreter) – sometimes our new friend would speak for a minute or two and her “interpretation” to us would be a sentence… Hmmm – I KNOW he said more than that… Our smiles and our gestures seemed to communicate more genuine meaning that what she could provide. At the end of the exchange (and the photo taking – many photos on his phone) – I said, “Let’s be Facebook friends!! Are you on Facebook???”. THAT caught the interpreter’s ear, “No. No Facebook. No Facebook access in China,” she answered FOR him, without even interpreting my question.

I was floored. Sure, I had heard that on the news. I knew that China is not an open society like the one we

are privy to. But Facebook – it seems so innocuous, so simple and frivolous. Yet I also know from the news how strong of a tool it can be to support an uprising. How it can be a channel to both learn what is happening in other countries and to share what is happening in yours. And our new friend’s government had deemed it off limits.

Then tonight, a new friend from China, Chong, caught me off guard. He just arrived and is staying with us for a couple of months. In the normal “get to know you” banter I asked if he had brothers and sisters. “No – China has a one child policy,” was his reply. He didn’t sound like he thought less of me for not thinking of that before I opened my mouth (though part of me thought, “I KNEW THAT – WHYYY did I ask that?”). He was just stating a fact. But what a bizarre fact for an American – a person who lives in a country where a family with 19 children is “famous” and has their own tv show and the “average” family has 2.5 children… So, even though I do not have children, I have the RIGHT to have them. I am grateful for that.

So, am I going to put a big flag pole in my yard tomorrow? No. But I will keep quietly tearing up as I sing along to the National Anthem when I hear it, and I will be grateful to live in a country where things like social media and children are not regulated by my government. *

*And don’t start dissing the NSA about spying on me, yes, I know they are reading this. HI NSA!

The Presents

We are old. Giving gifts has always meant a lot to me. I was raised in a household that valued gifts, valued “things” actually. At Christmas time, the base of our tree would be piled hiiiigh with presents wrapped in brightly colored paper tied with neatly curled ribbons. Birthdays would mean being spoiled by more gifts. Even Valentine’s Day came with a present. So, without being overtly taught, I learned that love was shown by giving something tangible. As I became an adult, I noticed people older than me asking for things for the holidays that I thought were silly – cheese, wine, nuts… “Those aren’t PRESENTS,” I remember thinking. “Presents are touchable, physical things – things to be KEPT, not to be consumed.” So, when I found my life partner, I showered him with GIFTS. Gifts wrapped just as I had been subconsciously taught must be wrapped in beautiful paper, tied tight with a bow. But it didn’t take long for me to notice that my love and

We Ride At Dawn

I can’t be the only one feeling down. And stressed. And nervous. And angry. And confused. And just about every other negative emotion that could be listed. There is just so much ANGST in the world right now, especially with the upcoming elections in the US. And sometimes (at least for deep feelers like myself) it just feels like a little too much to bear. But then I get a reminder. A reminder that even in the midst of all of these sleepless nights and fret – there IS good in the world. I got 2 reminders recently, and I thought I should share them in case you haven’t had any. I don’t know, I guess with the hopes that the reminders I came across will help boost your spirits a bit, too. Here’s the first one. This hat. We came home the other day and this was hanging on our front doorknob. Now, we have had a LOT of things left on our porch over the years – rusty cans of soup, brand new snow boots, and everything in between – but this was t

The Girl Who Can't Ride a Bike

I am “the girl who can’t ride a bike”. I guess to be accurate, I should say that I WAS “the girl who can’t ride a bike”. But it was such a big part of my identity growing up, that the never formalized (but often teased about) nickname stuck in my psyche. You know how most kids love to jump on their bikes and pedal around the neighborhood once they have figured out how to balance, brake, and GO? Yeah, that wasn’t me. I wasn’t that kid. I am not sure WHAT really happened. The one thing I do remember is being on a bike in my family’s garage in Omaha, Nebraska trying to ride my bike. It must’ve been winter, otherwise, why wouldn’t I have been outdoors?? But I think my foot slipped off the pedal and I know for sure my knee hit the handlebar. It hurt. I remember crying. But I am guessing that it hurt my pride more than it hurt my knee. I think I was already past the age where kids were “supposed” to ride a bike. But then and there I must’ve secretly made

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