I'm working nights this week, so I had the chance to watch Howard Snyder's documentary My Beijing Birthday. I knew in advance that I would like this movie, because it is all about Chinese kids. And I did like it. It's made by this guy who has fabulous Mandarin skills, and we never find out in this movie how he got this fluent--and this was my question throughout--how did this guy learn Mandarin???? Anyway, he went to Beijing to study the ancient Chinese folk art of xiansheng, which I had never heard of, but which is Chinese stand-up comedy, and he studied it in a class run by a Mrs. Ma--who makes a little girl CRY! In a comedy class!--with a bunch of little kids. Later in the film Mr. Snyder says the best way to learn a language is to speak it with kids. So maybe I should try this!
12 years later he goes back and reunites with Mrs. Ma, and some of the kids. It's interesting to see how they grew up--sort of a Chinese "Up" series.
There is, of course, lots of adorable footage of the kids doing their comedy routines, but there is also footage of Mao, and discussion of the impact of the Cultural Revolution, and the effects of western marketing on China, and on the generation of "little emperors", and how much they are loved and focused on by their parents.
I'm intrigued by this Snyder fellow. On the website for the film it says he worked in China as a debt collector. Jessh, I don't like that, despite his admirable language skills and evident sense of humor.
Makes me want to go back to China. But speaking better Mandarin.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Leilei is 7
Leilei turned 7 on June 8. It's been my custom to write my children birthday letters, not usually shared, but for their future reading, perhaps. I like to do this on the actual birthday, but somehow the day came and went . . . and after that, I drifted into a sort of depression . . . not at all related to my darling girl, but it consumed a lot of my energy . . . so time passed, and the letter wasn't written until now.
so . . .
Darling Leilei,
You have reached the exalted age of 7!!! Your birthday came and went in a frenzy of celebration--I wonder will you remember it when you're grown up? The Calico Critters (or, as you call them, the Critical Critters) party, for which you put out all your doll houses, and supervised the hanging of the crepe paper streamers . . . and then collapsed in a tantrum from sheer anticipation . . . and then sobbed in my arms, " I don't WANT this party! The streamers aren't like I WANT them!!!" until your friend Jada showed up (an hour early). "Jada's here!" Libby called out merrily as you wailed. You perked up immediately. "Jada???"
Wonderful Jada, and wonderful Jada's grandmother, to be fuzzy about the time.
I've talked to you about the tantrums, and the sassy behavior. You know, I do it half-heartedly. Truthfully, I do it because other people point out to me that you are "too big" for this sort of thing. But my heart isn't in it, Leilei.
These people forget--or never knew--that you came to me only a few years ago. This May marked the point at which you had lived half your life in China, and half your life here. So for those first 3 years, you were one little girl among many children. I have no doubt you were the most charming, the most lovely, the most delightful of all the children. But I will never forget that for that time, people tried their best, I'm sure of it, but there must have been times when you cried, that no one came. You couldn't always be picked up when you wanted cuddling. If you wanted something very much, you couldn't count on getting it.
So when you refuse to share a treat--I understand. When you beg me to pick you up in public, I'm going to try to do it, as long as my back holds out. If you cry as if your heart is broken--if you rage as if you hate the world,--I can't hold it against you, ever. I did those things--I still do some of them--and I had much less reason.
Once you and I talked about your life before you came to me. I made it into a story, ending it, "So then I came and got you." You asked me, "What took you so long?"
Now that I've found you, I promise to make up for lost time. If it takes forever to make you feel safe, and entitled to my love, I have nothing better to do. Take your time growing up. I will take my time letting you find your way.
all my love,
Mama
so . . .
Darling Leilei,
You have reached the exalted age of 7!!! Your birthday came and went in a frenzy of celebration--I wonder will you remember it when you're grown up? The Calico Critters (or, as you call them, the Critical Critters) party, for which you put out all your doll houses, and supervised the hanging of the crepe paper streamers . . . and then collapsed in a tantrum from sheer anticipation . . . and then sobbed in my arms, " I don't WANT this party! The streamers aren't like I WANT them!!!" until your friend Jada showed up (an hour early). "Jada's here!" Libby called out merrily as you wailed. You perked up immediately. "Jada???"
Wonderful Jada, and wonderful Jada's grandmother, to be fuzzy about the time.
I've talked to you about the tantrums, and the sassy behavior. You know, I do it half-heartedly. Truthfully, I do it because other people point out to me that you are "too big" for this sort of thing. But my heart isn't in it, Leilei.
These people forget--or never knew--that you came to me only a few years ago. This May marked the point at which you had lived half your life in China, and half your life here. So for those first 3 years, you were one little girl among many children. I have no doubt you were the most charming, the most lovely, the most delightful of all the children. But I will never forget that for that time, people tried their best, I'm sure of it, but there must have been times when you cried, that no one came. You couldn't always be picked up when you wanted cuddling. If you wanted something very much, you couldn't count on getting it.
So when you refuse to share a treat--I understand. When you beg me to pick you up in public, I'm going to try to do it, as long as my back holds out. If you cry as if your heart is broken--if you rage as if you hate the world,--I can't hold it against you, ever. I did those things--I still do some of them--and I had much less reason.
Once you and I talked about your life before you came to me. I made it into a story, ending it, "So then I came and got you." You asked me, "What took you so long?"
Now that I've found you, I promise to make up for lost time. If it takes forever to make you feel safe, and entitled to my love, I have nothing better to do. Take your time growing up. I will take my time letting you find your way.
all my love,
Mama
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