Our last full day in Guangxi had a lot on the schedule, but we were still able to sleep until just after 7:00am -- a "late" start during this trip! The Pipsqueak busied herself with her favorite toy after breakfast while AJ & I got everything ready for the day, and then it was back on the bus. We rolled through Guilin and its suburbs, and then into the hilly countryside on progressively smaller & less well-paved roads, periodically passing over the twists & turns of the Pearl River in a rural, tourist-free landscape featuring small farms & rice paddies nestled up against the hills.
At one point, on a dusty gravel road with trees blocking the hills from sight, I flashed back to the late 1960s when I often rode the family station wagon on similar roads in Chile. I chuckled over how far I was from that in both years and miles, then was jolted by the realization that the toddler who'd sat next to me in a car seat back then was now sitting next to me with her own little girl sitting in her lap. It's hard to explain, but watching my new niece and "little" sister exchanging goofy faces suddenly felt... well, comfortable, like life had always been that way. I think this was the point when, way down deep in my mind, Miri switched from being The New Adopted Baby and became just Family.
We parked in a small, dusty lot and walked past some vendors, then through a fancy gate in a fancy stone wall. Effie & Lisa said the area was known for small flutes (actually slide whistles) made from the reeds in the river, and that we were going to visit the cave named after them. They also warned us to not bargain with any of the vendors ourselves because some would pass counterfeit bills to tourists, which could get us in a lot of trouble...
We walked up steps (a lot more steps) as Effie told us there were hundreds of caves in the area, with even more likely still undiscovered or unregistered. The Reed Flute Cave itself had been a local secret for generations, and the entire town had hidden inside during the Japanese occupation. Supposedly they waited until the 1950s to tell the government that this big hill had a giant cavern inside... just in case the Japanese troops came back.
The entrance was through the gift shop, and as we looked around we got a demonstration of how "personal space" works in China versus back home. As usual, Miri had her thumb stuck solidly in her mouth, and after cooing over her for a few moments one of the saleswomen pointed to it and said, "No, bad for baby, bad!" then grabbed the Pipsqueak's hand and pulled her thumb out of her mouth. (We'd been warned about the possibility of episodes like this at the agency's pre-travel seminar, but I had to work hard to not create an international incident.) Miri gave the woman a dirty look and jammed her thumb back into her mouth, and the whole sequence repeated itself. AJ decided discretion was the better part of valor and found an excuse to move away as the Pipsqueak defiantly slurped on her thumb. (You tell 'em, kid!)
A few minutes later, we passed a plaque saying Pat Nixon had said the cave was "magnificent like a palace" and passed through the rusty iron gate that marked its entrance. I was kind of annoyed to discover the "rock passage" we were in consisted of badly-sculpted cement and was concerned the whole thing was going to be a disappointing dud (at least it was cool inside). It got darker, and damper, and walls & steps were now natural stone... and then we turned a corner and WOW.
I had only been inside two other caves (Luray Caverns in Virginia and Grotte la Merveilleuse near Dinant in Belgium); both were kept in their natural state but here in the Reed Flute Cave there was extensive use of colored lights to accentuate & highlight specific features everywhere we looked, creating sometimes-spectacular views. We passed through multiple chambers of varying size (all with incredible shapes lit to show visitors dragons, snowmen, even vegetables) and finally reached the main chamber. This very large space is kept fairly dark, with recessed lights in the floor giving the sense of it receding into an infinite distance. There was a Chinese-language sound & light show going on that we couldn't understand but that presented some way cool! lighting effects, and in the back is a shallow pond that acts as a mirror to a series of stalagmites & domes nicknamed "Guilin City Skyline" that were carefully backlit to enhance the "city" effect.
After resting a bit (and wondering if Miri might be getting a little fragrant), we continued past more of the small glass warning signs sprink. We were amazed to clearly see the light from his hand-held flashlight through the stone -- the huge formation was only a couple of millimeters thick!
As we neared the exit, I experimented by shooting one formation with & without flash; I didn't see the results until uploading the images onto my laptop that evening, but it's a good indication of how the display lights affect the appearance of the cave. This same experiment also taught me that those lights are not always on, because a timer clicked off somewhere and I had to navigate the stone staircase in near-total darkness to catch up with everyone else (it was a good thing the guy ahead of me was wearing a white shirt). Effie told me the lights are kept off most of the time to discourage plants from growing because their roots damage the mineral formations.
We passed one last formation, a "lion" crouching over the walkway bidding visitors goodbye, and then it was up a flight of steps (Why does everything in China seem to be up some stairs?!?) and we were once again in the heat & humidity of the day. The Pipsqueak had fallen asleep and was peacefully napping in her sling with her usual disregard for gravity when the sunlight & the noise from the souvenir stand woke her, and...
I heard Papa B laughing, "Hey, lady, your baby's leaking!" and turned around to see AJ desperately trying to hold the Pipsqueak (still in her sling) away from her while Miri nonchalantly let loose a steady stream of pee sideways out the leg hole of her size-too-big diaper. In one fell swoop, we learned 1) it's better to estimate diapers a size too small rather than a size too big, 2) don't buy a 50-pack of diapers if you're not sure of the size, and 3) Never Ever Never leave the diaper bag on the bus when the baby is with you! (This was both the first and the last time we made that mistake.) Luckily our companion families were experienced parents and had extra diapers with them. Right there on the patio, with dozens of onlookers, AJ performed the first Emergency Diaper Change of her motherhood while Miri just looked bewildered by all the fuss. (Gosh, Mom, I was just doing what babies are supposed to do!)
EDC #1 complete, we took some photos and when we got to the bottom of the hill, Lisa & Effie bought us all little reed flutes. They warned that we should not put them in our mouths until they had been thoroughly cleaned with alcohol because even the locals don't drink the water that the reeds had been washed in. (They hinted that the flutes sound better after being dipped in water to moisten the wood.) We walked back to the bus, dodging a few cars on the super-narrow road only to find a farmer moving his cattle through the parking lot. The cows just. plodded. along. in a straight line between us and the bus, the prodeeded directly down the middle of the road through the traffic. We stood & waited, sharing a laugh with the driver of a delivery truck stuck in the "traffic jam" until the last few cows slooowly left enough space for us to get past and climb aboard. Air conditioning set on high, we headed back into town.
Along the way, the Pipsqueak happily occupied herself by digging through Mommy's purse, stopping occasionally to make sure her fingers still wiggled properly. We both enjoyed watching and I laughed out loud when Miri began using her feet to hold the purse in place -- AJ is the famiy's lone southpaw, but now it looked like I had a quadridexterous relative!
After more crazy traffic, we pulled up to the South China Pearl Factory, a large facility specializing in many different kinds of pearl jewelry. It was busier than the other two "factories" we'd visited, but the formula was familiar: a short guided tour of exhibit rooms describing the history of the trade and the many differnet types of pearls & pearl oysters ending in a large, well-stocked showroom and store. There were a lot of tourists from Europe and the Americas, and I noticed we were very gently, quietly, and diplomatically engaged on one side of the room despite many display cases & shelves on the other side... so of course I took a moment to wander over. Aside from a few artifically-dyed bangles in one case, the merchandise on that side of the showroom had prices with a lot of digits in them; I was happy to stay on the "right" side from then on.
We only did some minor damage to AJ's credit card, and it was nice to just look around & people-watch for a while. The all-female staff all spoke at least some English and several seemed to be looking for excuses to coo at the Pipsqueak and play with her for a fe moments. This led to the first of many near-identical exchanges we had during the rest of our time in China: "Oh, cute, how old?" "Thirteen months." "Oh, she not that old, she so small!" (The last was inevitably followed by more cooing & silly faces.)
I had another "welcome to China" moment just before we left. The staff were proud to let us know they had a Western-style bathroom for visitors and I decided it would be A Good Idea to check it out before getting back on the road. I walked in and found good ol' American Standard toilets in each stall... and sure enough, all the toilet seats were carefully stacked in one corner of the room.
We got back on the bus (Aaah... air conditioning!) and headed to lunch. The Pipsqueak kept playing happily with us, having a grand old time exchanging goofy faces with Mommy and bumping noses with her uncle. As always, her tongue was sticking out at all odd angles, but it didn't worry us anymore -- I'd even swear the Pipsqueak gave me the razzberry on purpose one time! We were just having a lot of fun and it was a great family-building interlude. (Unfortunately for us, the Pipsqueak still hadn't learned the difference between "pat" and "WHACK!" so we also quickly learned that she thought "OW!" was one of the funniest sounds in the world... Still does, in fact!)
We soon arrived at a rather posh restaurant, where Effie & Lisa ordered an assortment of local dishes.The restaurant had a raised walkway running down the middle, and we were told that when not being converted into a disco for the new wealthier middle class the place often hosted fashion shows. The staff was obviously used to wealthier patrons accustomed to having their way; one large table on the other side of the room seemed to have two waiters per guest, and no one batted an eye at the two little boys playing soccer in the middle of the room with an empty water bottle serving as a ball.
Lunch was really good, even though (despite the spices being toned down for Western tourists) the chef seemed to believe that "moderation" should never apply to chili oil or hot peppers. We all chatted and chuckled at the Eagles and Carpenters songs playing on the PA system, and the Pipsqueak even nodded off for a quick nap. The bill was paid and the table cleared, but as we got up AJ noticed that Miri had become rather fragrant. I don't mean "Do you smell something" fragrant, I mean "Hoo-eey, what crawled in there and died" fragrant. While I stood nervously hoping we weren't going to be thrown out onto the street, AJ began her second EDC of the day and in no time flat we all regretted it. I swear my niece had just created the world's first nuclear-powered diaper, and it was so bad that AJ, Effie, and Lisa had to take turns during the diaper change so they could each periodically retreat to Minimum Safe Distance for a few breaths of clean air before diving back into the job. The biohazard alert was finally lifted and we headed back to the hotel shuddering over the thought of what might have happened if that 2nd diaper had also been a size too large...
On the way back to the hotel, I took a few shots of the passing scene. I found it interesting that even in a large, bustling, modern city, almost every plot of open land that wasn't a park had been turned into a vegetable garden. Then we passed a small pond with large lotus flowers growing in it. I had never actually seen live lotus blooms before and got excited because they really did look like all those old Egyptian or Greek paintings! (History nerds will understand.)
Lotus flowers or no, once back at the hotel we all voted for some downtime and an afternoon longevity nap. Even though it was our last day in Guilin (and the Pipsqueak's last day in the province of her birth, probably for many years), we were all tired and the next morning's wake-up call would be coming at 5:00am so we could get Miri aboard an airplane for the first time; a little R&R sounded like a really good idea. Before going up to our room, AJ & I browsed in the gift shop. I liked the many small figurines they sold but decided on photos instead of cramming several more (very fragile) souvenirs into my suitcase. Meanwhile, AJ found a cute fuzzy panda she thought would make a nice souvenir for the Pipsqueak... and had to buy two because after one was paid for & bagged, Miri absolutely would NOT let go of the one she had picked up unnoticed.
AJ & I decided to spend the afternoon just taking care of things & packing so we could (hopefully) just go in the morning without any last-second drama.... and maybe find some way to get the correct size of diapers. Miri was happily sitting on Mommy's bed with some toys, so AJ asked me to keep an eye on her while she did some laundry in the sink and maybe even got a shower in. I puttered around the room, always keeping one eye on my niece in the middle of the bed... but then I got thirsty, and my squeeze bottle was in the little fridge on the far side of the room.
I took a quick look at Miri and she was in the middle of the bed, so I took a few steps toward the fridge. I looked back at Miri and she was in the middle of the bed, so I walked half the remaining distance. I looked back at Miri and she was in the middle of the bed, so I walked the rest of the way to the fridge. I looked back at Miri and she was in the middle of the bed so I bent down & opened the fridge. I looked back at Miri and she was in the middle of the bed, so I grabbed my bottle and closed the fridge. I looked back at Miri and she was in the middle of the bed, so I raised the bottle to where it blocked my vision and squirted water into my mouth. I looked back at Miri...
...and the Pipsqueak was in midair, halfway to the floor off the foot of the bed.
My squeeze bottle probably hit the floor before Miri, but there was no way I could cover the distance between us before the loud THUNK! of her landing headfirst in front of the TV. I was sure I had just killed my niece, but she just looked kind of surprised and the expected wailing never came. It seemed like she was so used to not getting a response in the SWI that she'd learned not to bother crying when most babies would've been screaming bloody murder.
The Pipsqueak was quiet, but I'm not sure what kind of sound Yours Truly made because AJ came truckin' out of the bathroom darn quick. She carefully checked her daughter while I gasped out what had happened, and finding the little one undamaged, laughingly told me I was actually in worse shape. Once I stopped hyperventilating and got my pulse back down into the low 100s, I checked the teeny-tiny red mark on Miri's forehead and decided my sister was better definitely better prepared for parenthood than I was. (For a couple of years after returning home, I saw so many repeated headfirst encounters with solid objects that I would tell people my niece was going through life headfirst, accompanied by the occasional "thunk!" She still thinks "ow" is funny.)
I stayed within a couple of feet of the bed fafter that, but I think that conk on the head must have knocked a few inhibitions loose because when AJ went to stop Miri from digging through her bag (after giving up her shower), the little one actually stood up on the bed and delivered a short soliloquy -- possibly lecturing her uncle on baby safety? -- before plopping back down for a further review of Mommy's packing skills
Not long afterward, I looked outside and noticed some low clouds coming through the nearby hills. Very soon we could see rain falling from those clouds -- and they were headed directly toward us. I've seen some gully-washers in my time, and have been caught in tropical rains that felt like being pelted by balloons filled with hot water, but the sheer volume of water falling from the sky for the next hour was astonishing. (The photos below were all at roughly three-minute intervals.)
That's not fog or cloud in those photos -- that's just the rain. While slowly re-packing we amused ourselves watching people outside trying to find shelter from the aerial flood; the motorbikes were the funniest, invariably driven by someone wearing a big poncho that had a person-sized lump behind them (most folks rode tandem to save money).
That storm washed away any chance of buying new diapers, so we just kept packing and hoped to be able to go shopping with Lisa after dinner. The weather finally cleared, and after a super-short longevity nap we headed to the dining room -- where we received a pair of welcome surprises. The first was that Lisa had gone out unasked in the middle of the storm to make sure we'd have a pack of the proper size diapers for Miri (we gave her the package of 40+ remaining too-big diapers for a local orphanage she worked with). The second surprise was that everybody's provincial paperwork had arrived -- so for the first time we had actual proof that Guangxi's Powers That Be considered the three little ones to be members of our families. Even better, the papers included the girls' brand-new Chinese passports that were essential for getting our U.S. paperwork completed and for getting them home.
Everyone else was poring over the papers, anxiously double-checking all the information while occasionally wiping a happy tear away. Eventually we all settled down enough for dinner to be served (the wait staff was used to us by now so they just hung back 'til the ruckus subsided) and got another surprise. Mama B said that she'd checked her email and learned that the last batch of paperwork processed by the CCAA covered a period of 14 days -- the largest batch in recent memory. I think we were all honestly confused over if we should be happy for all the waiting families or angry over how much earlier we would've been in China if they'd only done that many days at a time more frequently. (Later that night, it occurred to me that if that had been the case, then we would be traveling with a different little girl... and suddenly I was very glad that things had worked out as they had.)
After dinner, AJ decided to again attempt a shower. (Again leaving her daughter's safety in my hands; is she trusting or crazy?) Wanting to be sure there were no further loud thunks, I picked up my niece as soon as AJ went into the bathroom and resolved to not put her down again 'til her mommy was back.
I was walking around the room barefoot, singing softly to Miri, when all of a sudden my right foot felt... well, warm... and damp. I looked down and noticed something was dripping on it... and my eyes followed a damp, dark stripe up my pant leg... up past the pocket... up to the waistband... and I suddenly realized what I was looking at. Sure enough, when I held the Pipsqueak out at arm's length she was just finishing a nice dribble, and my right side was thoroughly wet from armpit aaaallll the way down my leg to where my pants were dripping on my bare foot. ("THAT's what you get for letting me fall on my head, Uncle Brian!")
So there I am, dripping wet with my niece's pee, holding her in midair... with no mommy in sight. Well, it seems that all those episodes of "An Adoption Story" and "A Baby Story" I'd watched on Lifetime (Yep, I did!) came in handy. Still holding the Pipsqueak, I grabbed one of the new diapers & a pack of baby wipes from the red diaper bag, opened up the changing pad (on AJ's bed), and managed to get a thoroughly annoyed & squirmy little girl re-diapered so well that once my sister finished her shower -- and finished laughing at me! -- she only had to make one teeny-tiny adjustment to one of the diaper's sticky tabs.
After showering off the day's crud (and my niece's now-dry pee) and making sure we'd be ready to roll at the appointed time, I posted a quick update on our blog and climbed into bed. I have to admit, I still had a self-satisfied smile on my face as I dozed off.
After showering off the day's crud (and my niece's now-dry pee) and making sure we'd be ready to roll at the appointed time, I posted a quick update on our blog and climbed into bed. I have to admit, I still had a self-satisfied smile on my face as I dozed off.
Diapers? Ha! Bring 'em on!
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