Travel Ramblings No. 2

Bryn with a rose she received at our farewell supper

We learned a lot about Peking duck from our guide, Fay, during a long bus trip in Beijing. She talked and talked about Peking duck, so much so that among our travel companions, the eyes were glistening (possibly from near exhaustion) and the mouths were watering (possibly from uncontrollable drool due to exhaustion) by the time we arrived at the restaurant for a Peking duck lunch. We should have taken notes, but as far as we can remember the duck selected at a young age to be a Peking duck is doomed. It enjoys life while it is still with us, as it is pampered, injected with fat and watched over as if it is guarding the family jewels. Then, of course, nature takes its course, it is carved into about 120 pieces, and set out on a platter. So after the obligatory glass of beer, I was ready for the Peking duck, and as duck goes it was very moist, and tasty and fatty, and did not contain any lead shot, which as a kid I would accidentally chomp on while eating duck — the bounty from my dad's hunting expeditions.

It has been four weeks since our return to Canada, and I find myself desperately missing our lunches in China. Who can top Peking duck, eaten on Bryn's first birthday (Feb. 10)? In fact, other than that whole business of getting our baby, some of the most memorable moments of our trip to China involve the people with whom we shared the experience, and the food we ate together.


James, Helena, Beth and Ava Hendricksen pose for a family photo on our last day in Beijing


Gary and Marvin (left) dig into a typical lunch feast

Buried in the travel notes supplied by our adoption agency was a line about how adoptive parents tend to lose weight during their two weeks in China. Such people weren't part of our group, as we enjoyed some fabulous feasts. But things didn't get off to a great start. Our first meal as a group occurred on the first night all of us were in Beijing, the Sunday night before we got our girls. It was a hot pot type supper, wherein one boiled in some kind of small vat all of our food, from cabbage to beef, chicken to veggies. Being North American, the thought of boiling our raw chicken in the same vat as our veggies made us squirm. After that meal, I thought the agency was right — I'd be shedding some pounds on this trip. (Word to the wise for future travels — go easy on the cabbage.)


We dive cautiously into our first meal

The next day we travelled to — for China — the little city of Nanchang (pop. four million) to get the kids. We arrived at our hotel in time for lunch, and to our delight, it was a North American-style hotel. Our Saskatoon travelling companions Shea and Darlene joined us for a buffet, so I filled my plate with recognizable foods — we were getting the babies that afternoon and I didn't particularly want any cabbage moments to spoil the day. Here we are in a relatively poorer region of China — I'm half-way around the globe and I should be partaking in the local flavour of the country, food and all — but I'm thrilled to find pizza by the slice.

The next week, in Beijing, there was much joy about the close proximity of a McDonald's to our hotel. Rae and I have been together for what seems like 34 years, give or take, and I can remember us going to McDonald's once in all that time, and that was because nieces and nephews wanted to use the play area. But we and our very good friends Carolyn and Marvin had a memorable meal at a Beijing McDonald's, if not for the food, then for the interest we generated among the crowd. We did have our adventurous moments, though. A side order of camel hump one day, fried eel on another occasion, a shot of 56-proof rice-based liquor to close another scrumptuous lunch.


Dads Girard and Marvin worship at a shrine called McDonald's

All in all, I really miss the eight course lunches at the big round tables. This was where we got know each other, talk about our ups and downs, watch the babies and chow down ourselves. I also miss the buffet breakfasts, the sausages and bacon, stir fried rice and potatoes, breads and buns, fruits and juices. What a start to the day. By contrast, now that I am home, one morning this week I was able to sneak in a Cheez Whiz on bread sandwich between looking after Bryn, taking the dog for a walk and running errands. My lips smack when I think about the breakfast buffets in China.


Bryn and Roshandra get acquainted during our farewell supper


Kennedy and Caia become friends during a supper in Nanchang

Mostly, though, I remember our last night out in Beijing, such a release of energy and emotion. The food was spicy, very hot for our tastes (travel tip — don't chew on red things), the group was loud, there were birthday cakes and gifts presented, songs sung, pictures taken and stories told. Amid the general mayhem we sensed that this was the last time all of us will be gathered in the same place, at the same time, and we better make the most of it. We told each other we would keep in contact, and through the magic of emails and blogs share our experiences as parents and watch our girls grow. But emails and blogs can't convey our emotions — we had grown in a short span of time very attached to our friends in our group. We have very fond memories of good food shared among great company, and these memories sustain us as we settle into the routine of daily life.


General mayhem during our final night out in Beijing, complete with cake for the kids


The proud mothers, and one dad, and daughters