Our Chinese Puppy

Before we came to China, we were told that no pets were allowed in our company provided housing.  However, once on the ground, the reality was quite different.  Several people brought cats with them and a few even brought dogs from the U.S.  We were quite disappointed we had left ours behind unnecessarily.  Our beloved dog Ilsa, who went to live with Vicki’s family, actually passed away from a stomach tumor six weeks after we left.  She was nearly 11 years old.  However, this meant we now no longer had a dog to come home to.

If you know us, being petless – and especially dogless - is quite unusual.  There are a lot of stray dogs here, but we couldn’t even pet them for fear of diseases (Rabies is the very unlikely but very deadly fear).  And dogs are one of LiLi’s favorite animals.  “Dog” was even LiLi’s first word, though she quickly cashed it in for “what’s that?”  Mark insists that Vicki was dropping hints about intending to get another dog soon, though she insists that is not true.  She was just lamenting the sadness of our situation (e.g. “I’m so sad LiLi doesn’t have a pet to love.”).

About two month ago, Mark asked, “so, when are we getting a dog?”  Not actually thinking that was an option, Vicki was ecstatic, and quickly researched the laws on bringing a dog back to the U.S.  We were not going to abandon a dog in China after a couple years.  We were surprised to find that the laws were actually no different than if we had brought a pet with us.  The animal just needed to be appropriately vaccinated, etc. to enter the U.S.  Vicki even found a veterinarian we could use in Ningbo (2 hours away) that was recommended on an expat forum.  With that hurdle cleared, we started formulating our puppy acquisition plan.

Vicki read several horror stories online of expats who ended up with sickly Chinese puppies that would die after a few days.  However, those stories all seemed like the buyers fault (or at least Vicki knows enough to avoid the issues the others ran into).  Seriously, who buys a very young , lethargic puppy from a cage on a street corner?  Of course it is likely to have parvovirus.  We’ve actually only seen puppies being sold around us one time – in the local marketplace (and they were little, lethargic, and sickly looking).  Those puppies were being peddled for 120 RMB (less than $20).  Convinced of Vicki’s ability to differentiate a sick puppy from a healthy one, we decided that the best plan was to actually get a street dog – not one from a pet store or a marketplace – since there are no animal shelters here.

Since dogs aren’t really pets here still, we had to buy dog supplies in Ningbo.  So Vicki purchased our puppy supplies about 6 weeks ago: leash & collar, puppy food, treats, bowls, puppy shampoo, nail clippers, and a brush.  Until we got our puppy, LiLi had practiced walking her stuffed dog with the leash and collar.

We then did several puppy reconnaissance missions.  While riding the tandem through local villages we always see lots of dogs, and often puppies too.  We always assumed them to just be strays, but when we started watching closer, we realized the dogs did have homes, just very indifferent owners.  The dogs may be given scraps, but certainly not fed.  We decided to needed to do puppy reconnaissance missions first to see 1) what was available; 2) how friendly the puppies were; and 3) what the process might be for getting a puppy (just swipe one or negotiate)?

On our first puppy reconnaissance mission, we wrap the corner into the first target village, and there is a puppy standing on the side of the road playing with a large piece of plastic.  Then a moment later, a village woman hit the dog on the head with a stick.  Horrified, we stop to see what is going on.  We called the puppy over to us and it was actually very friendly.  Vicki even picked it up – at which point the lady who had been beating it and then giving us the evil eye when we stopped, began talking in a really shrill (nearly howling) manner, came over, took it out of Vicki’s arms, and threw it inside her house.  Apparently it was her dog.

We learned from that first puppy search that there were puppies out there that fit what we wanted, they were largely friendly, and even though indifferent at best, the dogs did have “owners” and we should negotiate for a puppy.  We also decided that we couldn’t settle on an older puppy, because we wanted to do the socialization – not have a lady with a stick doing it.  It is also important to note that this one woman is the only person we have seen being cruel to a dog.  Everyone else just seems to indifferently coexist with them.

On a solo ride Mark did with LiLi, he spotted some other puppies he thought might fit what we wanted.  So last weekend, finally ready to actually obtain a dog, we went out with our dog acquisition supplies: a backpack, leash & collar, 350 RMB (~$50), our electronic translator, and a couple pictures of LiLi with our old dog Ilsa (to show we wanted a pet dog).  It was about an hour bike ride out to the spot he had seen them the week before, but this time they were not out.  So we decided to go explore some other local villages and then loop back to this same spot.  Still no luck.  We were now riding backwards on the loop we usually do, so we ended up missing our right hand turn.  We decided to ride it out and just see where this ended up.  And that is when we found our puppy.

We were in a rural area comprised largely of fish farms (they grow fish (or crabs) in ponds).  When we rode up to this area, there were two adult dogs and three puppies in the middle of the road.  We decided to stop and take a video of them (LiLi loves to watch videos of dogs), hoping the barking mother (and other adult female dog) would bring someone out of the house.  But no one came out.  We didn’t want to just swipe a puppy – plus we didn’t really have a means of doing so.  The mother (who looked like a small white/silver German Shepherd) probably wouldn’t just let a stranger grab her puppy.  The mama dog tried to lead the puppies away, and two followed her for a bit.  One stayed back at the house though (and started to come to us when coaxed), so the mom and the other puppies had to loop back.

Just when we were about to give up and leave, a man came walking in from amongst the fish ponds.  He was talking on his cell phone and didn’t seem to care about our presence.  He hung up the phone and went to get on the scooter parked in front of the house with the dogs.  Mark quickly asked, “Nǐde gǒu ma?” (Your dogs?).  The man affirmed that they were.  Mark told him they were cute and then the man realized we might want one.  So he said to us, “Wǒ sòng nǐ yīgè” (I send one with you).  Mark quickly realized he was offering a puppy to us and asked how much, but the man said it does not matter (Méiguānxì).  The man went and grabbed a sack up at the house, went to grab one puppy (the least cute of the bunch – but closest one to him), and Mark asked if we could have one of the other ones.  He then grabbed our puppy by the scruff and deposited him in the sack.  Apparently being difficult gift recipients, we asked if the other one was a girl (since we knew the first two were males), so the guy checked quickly, but all three were males.  They guy handed us the sack with the puppy, refused the money we tried to give him, jumped on his scooter, and left.  At least this gave us a moment to inspect the puppy ourselves.  He seemed friendly enough (though likely had never actually been touched before being thrown in the sack).  Vicki did a quick health assessment and deemed him good.  Even though we wanted a female, we decided a male was ok, particularly since he will be neutered ASAP.  That meant we now had a puppy.

We put the sack in the backpack and rolled down the edges of it.  Vicki then wore the backpack on her front so she could keep an eye on the puppy as we pedaled home.  The puppy quickly fell asleep and didn’t seem to mind being in a sack in a backpack on a bicycle at all.  This was still a new way home for us, so we didn’t actually know how far we had to go!  It ended up being a 45 min. ride home after getting the puppy – and nearly a four hour ride in total.

When we got back to the apartment, before heading upstairs, we asked her if she remembered what Mama had in the backpack.  She immediately started squealing “dog, dog, dog!”  She has a good memory.

When we let him go in the house, LiLi immediately started gathering toys to try to share with the puppy.  Smelling like a fish farm, we gave the little guy a bath, which he handled quite well.  We named him Jiǎozi (Jee-ow-zi), which means “dumpling” in Mandarin.  It actually makes for a fun tongue twister when we want to tell someone his name, because the sentence is “Tā jiào xiǎo jiǎozi” (He is called little dumpling).

Despite likely lacking in human socialization, this little guy is turning out to be a rock solid puppy.  He loves to be cuddled, is great with LiLi (who, in turn, is awesome with him), and is even working hard on his potty training.  He hasn’t seemed to miss life on the street at all, particularly when cuddled up in our bed.  LiLi loves “dog” (as she calls him).  She likes to read to him and share her toys with him.  They are the best of friends.

The videos are of when we first arrived home with the puppy.

Our Prenatal Adventure in China: Part II

This is part II of a series.  Click here to read from the beginning.

My second attempt at a Ningbo prenatal visit was much more successful.  I took the train so I wouldn’t have to stress about catching the bus home – and scheduled my return train ticket for well into the evening.  When I arrived at the hospital, I called the VIP clinic to alert them to my arrival and was asked which entrance I was at.  I had no idea.  The only Chinese character I could recognize was mén, which just means door!  It seemed to be the most non-emergency main entrance though, so I was quickly found.  To be honest, it would have been a lot simpler had they just told me to go to the 5^th floor and follow the signs that say “special requirement clinic” – their Chinglish for VIP Clinic, which was literally 15 feet from where I was last time.

Instead of having to do the registration process myself this time, a nurse from the VIP clinic does it for me – for $10.  That $10 then gives me the VIP status that bumps me to the front of every line.  From my last failed visit, I already had my Ningbo Universal Outpatient Case History book and card.  Medical records in this city are electronic, carried by you on your card.  Any hospital in China can access my records were I to drop in.  For all China lacks on, this is quite advanced compared to the U.S. system!  Anyway, the nurse who took my card to register me came back a bit confused – “Is your name Hui Li?”  Why yes, it is.  At least at your hospital! 

The one nurse, who spoke exceptional English and is also from Sanmen, then took me over to the maternal clinic to the next room.  Since I was a VIP, I didn’t need to wait for my number to be called this time.  We walked right in and sat in a room with three other patients.  The woman at the desk took my card, had the nurse translate some questions (e.g. When was your last period? Have you ever had a baby before?  Was it a vaginal delivery?  How old is that baby?) and she entered stuff into the system.  The woman at the computer than scratched some notes into my medical book, swiped my card to record the information she had entered into the computer, and we were on our way.  It was only after we left that the nurse told me I had just met with the doctor.  “What?  The woman at the computer was the doctor?”  Yeah, not quite the U.S. for sure!  Apparently during that brief meeting with the doctor though, she had ordered several blood tests, a urine test, and an ultrasound for me. 

Next, we went down to the second floor and wound our way through a mass of pregnant women standing in a narrow hallway.  When we reached the door, the nurse peaked in and asked if we could come in.  We were ushered right in and I was now the next patient in line for my ultrasound.  Having always been a person who follows the rules and never cuts lines, I must say I felt really guilty for jumping in front of all of those other women waiting in a hot, narrow hallway.  However, without my VIP status I would have to go to Shanghai since there was no way for me to navigate this system without special treatment.

The ultrasound room had three stations separated by curtains that weren’t pulled.  I was told to get on the table, had the jelly put on my belly, the ultrasound tech confirmed I was pregnant and 11 weeks along (spot on with what I told them), and then had to hurry and wipe off my belly – “next patient!”  I was seriously on the table less than 30 seconds.  The way they have the ultrasound equipment set up it is pretty impossible for the woman to even see the screen, and since they aren’t private rooms, the fathers aren’t allowed in.  What a medicalized process.  They do print off an ultrasound picture for you though, which was amongst the worst I’ve ever seen (considering I was 11 weeks).

Next, my nurse guide told me was the urine sample.  She brought me to a public restroom, handed me the cup, and offered to hold my backpack for me.  I’m pretty proficient at using squat toilets, but forgot to grab my toilet paper from my backpack before I went into the bathroom.  It is rare for a public toilet to provide any toilet paper – apparently even at a hospital.  The cleanliness of the bathroom was comparable to a dirty bathroom at a gas station – you know, the ones you try to avoid.  When I walked in, the stalls were all full.  And in one, there was a woman trying to help another person get a stool sample.  That person missed the toilet stall altogether on their way in – there was a diarrhea trail into that one.  And then the woman helping that poor soul had several cups lined up on the floor where she was gathering additional stool samples.  Crazy.  If you’re female and have ever given a urine sample in the States, you know how the nurses have to explain to you in detail every time how to get a “clean catch” when they hand you the cup and three sterile wet wipes.  It was such an ironic contrast to be standing in a bathroom holding an urine sample cup and have no wipes (or toilet paper in general) or even instructions on a “clean catch” and be trying to not look at the diarrhea trail as I waited for a cleaner stall.

After that, all that was left was the blood draw.  This was quick and good.  Interestingly, the phlebotomists here don’t change their gloves between patients.  Apparently they wear them to protect themselves – not you.

With that, I was on my way home, told on the way out to just call again a few days before I wanted to come for my 16 week checkup.  Although I only had a crappy ultrasound picture of our “little mite” in my backpack, I still had a sense of satisfaction that I had successfully navigated a Chinese hospital and was told I had a normal baby.  Yes, I had to pay out of pocket and then be reimbursed by our insurance company, but the total cost for that visit was less than $40.  And that included the fee for an ultrasound.  Despite all of the oddities, since I don’t think a medicalized birth is necessary, I figured this place would be sufficient for at least my prenatal care – we’re still deciding on where to have the actual birth.

Read Part III

Linhai

Rice combine

We’ve been meaning to make it to Linhai for some time now, but hadn’t found the time.  Linhai is 70K away (80K by bike) and has what is known as the “southern great wall of China”.  Finally taking initiative, Vicki booked a hotel room and put together some GPS tracks – successfully getting accurate tracks by making a map in Google Maps, overlaying it on satellite images in Google Earth, and then redrawing the actual path before uploading it to our GPS.  While we did ok in Anshun navigating with a slightly off GPS, it was really nice to have such accurate tracks to follow this time!  At one point we took a wrong turn and knew it within 100 ft.

It was a very nice, leisurely weekend.  And the weather couldn’t have cooperated any better – 75 degrees and sunny!  We even acquired fresh tan lines.  We left on the bike at 8:15AM on Saturday morning and took a long route to Linhai so we could visit the Linhai National Geological Park on our way to Linhai proper.  That deviation added an extra 25k to the ride.

Rice combine and wedding
Porsche refueling 

Apparently it was a wedding weekend, so we saw lots of wedding party processions throughout the journey and heard lots of fireworks (they never wait for dark here – they set them off at all hours).  We also saw our first small rice combine harvester (like a driven tractor).  In Guizhou Province, where we saw rice being harvested for the first time, it was largely done by hand – beating it against the side of a wooden barrel.  It is an incredibly labor intensive process.  There were also some farmers there who had small hand-fed motorized threshers.  It was so crazy to see how quickly the combine could harvest a field ~ 200x faster than with manual labor.  It makes us wonder why China isn’t investing more into modern agricultural equipment.  It could greatly increase the productivity of its people.  If only China had fewer Rolls Royce and more combines. 

When we made it to the Geological Park, we were quite disappointed to realize that it was just a Chinese tourist trap.  All it consisted of was a big concrete monument with the words “National Geopark of China Linhai”.  The mountains around us were not even unique.  We have prettier ones outside our Sanmen apartment.  So we ate a few Oreos and jumped back on our bike.  We made it to Linhai about 2PM.  We decided to go straight to the “great wall” using our clothes methods we had refined while on vacation in Anshun – throw on jeans (that had been stuffed in LiLi’s seat) over our shorts and just change our shoes (which were tied to the back of LiLi’s seat).

Linhai Wall

Main entrance gate

Construction of the Linhai wall began in the Jin Dynasty (265-420 A.D.) and was completed in the 1300’s.  The wall was originally 6k long, and 5k of it still remains intact today.  The main tourist entrance to the wall also happens to be the steep section of the wall.  After riding 105K to the wall, Vicki was pretty tired having to walk all of those steps!  Since we had to return to our bike that we left at the main entrance, we decided it wouldn’t be prudent to try and walk the entire 5K.  We ended up doing the steepest part and then exited the wall through a temple that was connected.  The temple had a tree on its premises that was incredibly old –about 1300 years old.

East Lake as seen
from the wall

We then walked the road back to the tandem, bought some cantaloupe on a stick (we never had a formal lunch), and pedaled to our hotel, which ended up being only about 1K away.

The old tree

When we rode up to the entrance to the hotel, the place was packed with people in formal wedding clothes.  And we were wearing our cycling clothes.   Apparently there were three different wedding parties taking photos there at that moment.  Mark weaved his way through the crowd and checked us in.  Two hotel staff quickly came out and helped me wheel the tandem to the security office in the back.  We had requested to keep it there overnight instead of in the hotel room so we wouldn’t need to 

LiLi enjoyed the
drainage holes

decouple it to fit it in the elevator.  The staff was very nice and helpful.  When LiLi and I got into the hotel with our stuff, Mark was just finishing checking us in (it can be a longer process in China since they have to register our passports with the police).

East Lake

After quick showers, we were starving so we headed out to find some dinner.  We ended up at U.B.C. Coffee.  They have a pretty predictable menu with pictures and some English, which is what we wanted that evening.  It was a fabulous meal and we returned to our hotel and went right to sleep.

Line dancing

Linhai wall

The next morning we woke up before the breakfast buffet even opened and downed the bananas the hotel staff had left in the room for us.  While waiting for 7AM, Vicki and LiLi were watching the people in the plaza below the hotel do their morning dance groups, calisthenics, and play badminton.  This is a morning ritual for many older Chinese!  Then, suddenly at about 6:50AM, an area in the plaza cleared and about 200 people who had been doing their own thing a few minutes before formed a large grid and started marching to some Chinese music.  After only a few steps, the leader would yell at them and they would go restart this march.  They must have finally done it right though, because on the third or fourth try, they marched forward to the Chinese music, then suddenly they all whipped out fedora hats (they didn’t look like real cowboy 

At East Lake

hats) and the music changed to American Country Music and this massive group did a very well choreographed line dance!  It was the most unexpected thing we have seen in China.  The National Day holiday just passed, so we have no idea 

LiLi makes
friends everywhere

what they could be practicing for.

We were still hungry though… so we didn’t watch for too much past 7AM.  Whenwe checked in we had been told that there was a Western breakfast at the hotel in addition to the Chinese breakfast.  We were excited about this since we sometimes have a hard time filling ourselves on the Chinese breakfast.  It was a wonderful buffet that included eggs, toast, yogurt, fruit, and coffee.  Sometimes it is the unexpected little things that make you the most happy.

Hiking path

We then headed out to visit East Lake (Dong Hu).  It is a pretty little park just on the other side of the plaza we were looking down on from our hotel room.

We climbed to the
top of this pagoda

After walking through most East Lake, we decided to try to do more of the Great Wall – starting at the other end this time.  So we hailed a taxi and successfully made it to the other end.  After a short walk on the wall (a section not even requiring a ticket), we came to a temple complex with several pagodas.  We decided to go see what it was and realized we had made it to the “Ancient Town” we were planning to ride through on our way home.  The ancient streets actually turned out to be the least interesting thing here.  The Buddhist temple complex was the most active Buddhist religious center we have seen yet.  There were a series of temples to visit and hiking trails that led to a couple of pagodas.  One of the pagodas was even still open to climb up to the top of. 

Fun times for LiLi

Being short on time since we had to check out of our hotel by noon and still pedal 80K home (with a major hill climb on the route home), we decided that exploring the rest of the wall would have to wait for another visit and we went to find a taxi.  We couldn’t find any though and eventually settled for a “bam bam” – a sketchy little three wheeled vehicle.

The bike ride home was largely uneventful.  The local farmers were drying rice on the roads, which would make a two lane section reduce to one.  The roads were not crowded though, so this wasn’t a big deal.  We were more mentally prepared for the two long tunnels this time, which made them a bit better.  While we have a blinking head and taillight, on our way there, the headlight was dim since the batteries were dying.  Additionally, the lights in the tunnel are dim at best and these were 

Concrete resurfacing -
already marred by
chicken feet

long tunnels, one after the other!  There is also a curb that you want to hug, but not bump; because of the dim lights though, it was hard to see the curb, making the navigating stressful for Mark.  When you add crazy Chinese drivers to the mix, it can make it a scary experience.  On our way to Linhai a car in the opposing lane decided to pass another car by swerving in our lane (a normal driving habit – but especially stupid in a tunnel where many locals don’t have any lights on their vehicles, scooters, or bicycles).  The way home was fine though.  We had both lights working and we had a game plan (pedal as fast as we can as Vicki calls out any rear approaching cars to Mark).  While it was a 

Terraced fields

nice bike ride sans these two tunnels, we have a hard time recommending this ride to friends since they are less experienced riders than us, which would make these tunnels a lot more dangerous.  

When we got to the major hill climb of the day, we 

found a crew adding 8” of concrete on top of the existing pavement, which meant it was shut down.  Not quite knowing another easy way home, we decided to push the tandem on the side of the road until we could ride it again.  Thankfully, it wasn’t too far.  Among the cyclists on site, this climb is known as the “tea farm climb” since there is a tea farm at the top.  Few of the riders here have actually descended the backside of it.  It is simply an up and back down the same way sort of climb.  While our normal way up it is very pretty too, the other side of this hill is just spectacular.  It is pretty mountainsides punctuated by crazy terraced fields.    The amount of human labor that goes into farming the mountainside is extraordinary.  It is also a very quaint area.  Cattle are used to help with some of the farming, so it is not uncommon to have them standing on the roadside – or the middle of the road.

Our tandem looks good
at the top of hills

LiLi and the orange
grove owner

When we reached the top of the climb, we decided to take a little break to eat, stretch, and let LiLi walk a bit (not that she complains about riding though!).   We were starting to consider how to ration our remaining food since we didn’t have much more for the way home when Mark realized we were sitting next to an orange grove.  Vicki wouldn’t let him steal any oranges though.  However, a few minutes later, a car comes driving down the dirt driveway next to the orange grove and stopped a few yards from us.  A few people jumped out of the car, opened the trunk, and brought us four oranges!  It turned out one of the people in the car was the owner of the orange grove.  She thought LiLi was really cute and wanted to give us some of her produce.  She also taught us the “proper” way to eat the oranges – rip them in half and then eat the fruit directly off the

Rice drying

 peel.  Before the left, they brought us another six oranges.  We no longer had to ration food!  It was a nice descent down the hill and pedal home.

Us in a traffic mirror.
See how awesome
this hill climb is?

It was really a perfect weekend vacation.  We never felt very rushed, we got to pedal our tandem a lot, and we didn’t have to pack much stuff at all.  And then when we got home, one of our friends called to say she was dropping off dinner for us:  Thai fried rice.  The social norm of reciprocity sure is wonderful.  Vicki had made banana bread for this friend earlier in the week, so this was her way of reciprocating.  After 185K in two days, it was really nice to not have to cook dinner.

LiLi's Verbal Skills

It seems that LiLi has finally had a third breakthrough in her verbal skills.  The first breakthrough occurred at a mere 10 months old when she started saying “What’s that?”  For the 9 months since, she has been saying “What’s that” about 200 times a day (seriously).  The second breakthrough was a bit more subtle and we didn’t document when exactly it happened, but at about 16 months (this past July) she began pointing at animals in her book when we said the name. 

This past weekend we had a very obvious breakthrough where she has begun moderate talking.  And since we’re teaching her two languages, this is a bit more complicated to explain.  Whenever Vicki references ‘daddy’ LiLi now ALWAYS corrects her by saying “baba” (Chinese for daddy).  Whenever she needs something, she calls out for mama (same meaning in Chinese and English).  When we ask her where Baobao (baby) is, she either points at Vicki’s belly or goes to point at the two characters on our baby carrier.  She also now will say “bikebarn” when we point at anything that says bikebarn.  Today, looking at a picture of a fish she said “yu” (fish).  Finally, she has started to say “I did it” at various appropriate time. And, of course, she still says "what's that?" at least 200 times a day.

We don’t fully grasp the extent of her understanding of Chinese, but we know she knows most of her animals in both English and Chinese.  When asked if she understands Chinese, LiLi doesn’t like to talk on command; however,  if we ask her “gǒu shuō shénme?” (what does a dog say?), she’ll almost always go “woof woof”.  We look forward to more breakthroughs in the future!

Our Prenatal Adventure in China: Part I

Before we left for China, the plan was always to have a baby while abroad.  We wanted to hit the ground first though, to know the healthcare circumstances of our location.  Being “crunchy” parents though, and having already had one perfectly normal (and natural) birth experience, there wasn’t going to be much that could change our minds.  Chinese people have babies all the time!

We live in a fairly rural area, though our closest hospital, the Sanmen People’s Hospital, is only 35 minutes away.  Ironically, the issue here doesn’t seem to be having medical support, but getting the medical community to leave us alone.  We don’t view birth as something requiring a medicalized experience.  We actually only had LiLi at a hospital, instead of a birthing center, because we wanted to go local and utilize the Brockton Neighborhood Health Center’s midwives, who are required to deliver at the local hospital.  However, our midwife fully supported us through a natural birth, kept the nurses at bay, and even let us do skin-to-skin so long after birth we didn’t even know Elli’s length or birth weight when we called our family!  With midwife and pediatrician approval, we were out of the hospital by 30 hours after her birth (she was born at 1AM, so it was nominally 24 hours).  It seems we are going to have to fight pretty hard for a similar birth experience here.

The norm for expats expecting babies in China is to go to a Western hospital in a major city for their prenatal care and birth, which for us would mean going to Shanghai.  However, Shanghai is 4.5 hours away (by car or train), making it a couple day affair (and about $200 out of pocket).  Additionally, as China has modernized, they seem to have taken some of the worst aspects of the Western medical community while limiting some positives.  For instance their C-section rate is over 50% and you are legally required to deliver your baby with a doctor in a hospital.  While the Chinese infant mortality rate has significantly decreased in the past decade, that seems to be related to prenatal care becoming more widely available in rural communities and better education.  There is no data that can link the decrease in infant mortality to hospital births.  That’s a whole other point for discussion though…  Short story: I think China is making a mistake swinging so far in the “medicalized birth” direction, particularly since the vast majority of Chinese women only get to experience one birth.  It makes me sad that they cannot enjoy the beauty of the birth experience without so much medical intervention.

Anyway, we have decided we do NOT want to have go to Shanghai for prenatal care, particularly since at the end of the pregnancy the visits are so close together.  In fact, it appears that we would have to stay in a hotel there for the last two or three weeks.  Instead, we have opted to obtain prenatal care at a Ningbo hospital.  Ningbo is 2 hours away (1 hr. by train) and is a large city (3.1 million pop. in the city proper), but it is not a Western city by any means.  We opted to not just go to the local Sanmen hospital because they do not have any staff that can speak English, and their system already seems overwhelmed.

I found a Ningbo hospital website with a decent English translation, so I e-mailed them to ask if any staff spoke English, about health insurance, etc.  They responded, reassuring me they could assist me (though I would have to pay out of pocket – they don’t do insurance), and told me to call to schedule my first appointment.  I scheduled my first appointment for later that week, 2PM on a Thursday, their first appointment time after lunch, when I was 9 weeks pregnant.  I brought LiLi’s ayi with me, who speaks no English but can use our electronic translator pretty well.  More importantly, if they tell us to go to the fourth floor she can lead me there.  When we walked in, I asked a few hospital staff, “Nǐmen shuō yīngwén ma?” (Do any of you speak English?), but always encountered blank stares.  At that point, my ayi took over since she knew I was there for a prenatal visit.  She helped me to register.  They couldn’t enter my name into the computer system since it required Chinese characters, so my name on all my hospital records is now Huì Lì – which means “beautiful - benefit”.  We were then sent to the 5^th floor.  There was a sign in the elevator in English that said that floor was for maternal care – a good start.  However, when we got off the elevator, still 30 minutes before my appointment, I quickly realized that there were 50+ pregnant women, mostly dressed in pajamas (the preferred “pregnant” attire here!), all waiting here for a 2PM “appointment”.  We were supposed to be catching a 3:30PM bus home.  Not looking good…

At 2PM, a nurse appeared and all the pregnant woman (and my ayi) rushed the desk to grab a number.  Soon, an electronic board about the nurses’ desk started displaying groups of patient numbers and room numbers.  My ayi directed me into a room, with about ten other women, where we were weighed and had our blood pressure taken by a machine that would spit out your values.  You would then give this “ticket” with your stats to the nurse in that room and she entered it into the computer.  We then went and sat in the hallway again.  After a little bit, I was directed to a room with a bunch of other pregnant women, where I now know we were meeting with a doctor.  After a lot of animated talking (that didn’t include me!), my ayi was able to translate (via my electronic pocket translator), “when was your last period?”  After I gave the date, I was told to leave.  Maybe they could help me tomorrow.  Apparently I wasn’t pregnant enough to be there for a Thursday appointment.  At that point, I was very disappointed and angry that I had been told they could help me, that I told them how many weeks pregnant I was when I scheduled the appointment, and that in the end I was turned away after driving 2 hours to the appointment.

The next day I sent an e-mail to the hospital, letting them know how disappointed I was after having been reassured that they could help me and explained to them my experience.  I received a phone call a few minutes after I sent it from one of the English speaking nurses, who apologized and said that I was never supposed to be in the maternal clinic, but to have gone to the VIP clinic, where I DID have a 2PM appointment.  I had never received these instructions when making the appointment though, and none of the staff directed me there.  Ironically, it turns out I was literally 15 feet from the VIP clinic when waiting in the maternal clinic.  Since going to Shanghai was even less appealing than trying to navigate the confusing Ningbo hospital, I scheduled another appointment – this time being told to call when I arrived and they would send someone down to meet me.

As a side note, several employees here at the Sanmen “site” (i.e. the nuke plant where we live) are actually expecting babies.  However, none of them are currently planning a China birth, which means I am the pioneer here on this.  The one wife, due the beginning of January, already retuned to Iowa with her two kids to await the birth of her third baby.  Understandably, since her other two were both preemies (7 & 8 weeks early) that had to spend time in NICU after birth, she decided she felt most comfortable with a U.S. birth.  She is planning to return to China once the new baby is two months old.  Another wife, due in February, is in Vietnam with her family.  While her husband, a Vietnamese American, speaks English, her English ability is limited.  Since this is her first baby, she thinks she wants to have the baby in Vietnam.  However, her husband thinks the prenatal care system there is worse than China, so he is actively trying to convince her to come back to China for the birth (which would be in Shanghai if he can convince her to return).  And finally, there was another wife here who had planned on a China birth (first baby), but decided after 6 weeks of living in China she hated it here and flew back to the States.  We can only imagine her husband is actively looking for a new position in the States.  Anyway, that currently leaves Mark and I as the sole expats navigating the prenatal medical system.  While we could go the “simple” route and just go to Shanghai, I think regardless of where we go this is going to be an interesting cultural adventure.

Read Part II