Beijing Tai Tai

by Tania McCartney

  I was very fortunate to have a non-fiction book published in Australia some time ago, but it’s only recently that I’ve turned my attention to the children’s book genre. Truth be told, I have a wee bit of an obsession with kids’ books. I love the pictures. I love the stories that colour in children’s brains like an activity book and a box of crayons. I love fun children’s books, traditional books, magical books, educational and just plain nonsense books. I even love the smell of them.

  What a dream to actually publish a children’s picture book. What a dream to see the contents of my head down on paper, flickable. What a dream to entrance and inspire children in any way, shape or form. But how to make this dream a reality?

  I’ve received enough publisher rejection slips to papier mâché the Great Wall. There’s been a lot of despair, frustration and tears shed in this writer’s lifetime, trust me. But I keep telling myself if Gone With The Wind was rejected by more than 30 publishers before becoming one of the world’s best-known tales, surely I have a remote chance ... Ditto JK Rowling and her little Potter tale—rejected around a dozen times before publication. A dozen times. I wouldn’t want to be the one responsible for handing out those rejection slips. I guess it goes to prove my long-held suspicion that publishing really is a highly subjective thing, and perhaps sometimes quite reliant on luck.

  Oh, the frustrations and setbacks.

  Interestingly, forging ahead despite setbacks has actually become a lot easier since I started writing in Beijing, but it doesn’t mean the setbacks don’t disappoint. After completing three children’s picture book manuscripts last year and sending them religiously to a long list of publishers in China, Australia and the States, it’s been very despairing to watch time slip away, with nary an acceptance letter in sight.

  I’ve had several very encouraging ‘We’re considering your proposal and will get back to you in eight to twelve weeks’ slips in the mail. These slips are the equivalent of a glassed-in bamboo stick to a hungry panda. They’re a little tormenting, and the worst of it is that they completely erase a large chunk of your life because most publishers like to be exclusively offered manuscripts. Margaret Mitchell must have been 183 before Gone With The Wind was finally put into print.

  I’m almost immune to the disappointment now. Almost. It still smarts but at least it doesn’t completely swamp and disable me any more. In fact, I’m so immune, I’ve found a whole new confidence and subsequently decided to revisit my children’s book manuscript All the Tea in China. I’ve had to rejig the ending, just as Xiansheng said I should, but I really love this story and I really believe in it. Instead of tea, though, it’s going to involve a sleeping dragon and a little something called the Great Wall. Very exciting.

  So, what to do when you’re really sold on a story idea, you know it’s good and you’re just not connecting to the right ‘make it happen’ person? Well, what you do is you publish it yourself.

  So that’s what I’m going to do.

  I’m not sure I can do it but I’m going to give it a hell of a go. And whatever the case, at least I won’t have another sodding rejection slip to groan over.

  Exploring Beijing’s Ancient Sites

  Revisiting the past, kiddie-style

  There’s a place in Beijing called the Forbidden City. It’s a big, flat, grey succession of red-roofed halls stuffed with dusty chairs, dull stone turtles, imposing red doors and the odd big copper pot. Ho hum.

  There’s also a place in Beijing called Gu Gong. It’s an astonishing, ancient city spread across 72 hectares of land that once housed emperors and empresses, warlords and eunuchs. Its pink-washed palaces are stuffed with gold-dipped thrones and 1000-year-old treasures. Its massive copper pots doubled as fire engines, its courtyards were once frequented by concubines toting baskets of pomegranates, and its red, gold-studded gates once hemmed in eye-popping secrets of Ancient China.

  But wait—drum roll, please—did you know that these places are one-in-the-same? Yes, Gu Gong is actually the Forbidden City. It just depends on how you’re looking at it. In a city that’s crammed with ancient treasures, it’s easy to pass over these historical sites because the kids are ‘too young’. We love taking the kids to these history-steeped spots in China’s capital. You just have to know how to view them, kiddie-style.

  For a trip to Tian’anmen Square, we give the kids a video camera to swoop around the panorama of the world’s largest city-central square. We tell them about the embalmed body of Chairman Mao and the ancient city walls, and they’re soon weaving a movie plot around the mysterious network of hidden tunnels lying beneath their feet.

  At Yihe Yuan (the Summer Palace) the kids run themselves ragged on the gentle hills or around the myriad pavilions and halls, ripe for exploring and bouncing around an echo or two. They also love navigating the canals of Suzhou Market Street while Mum and Dad freak out over the lack of barricades to prevent little emperors tossing themselves headlong into the waterways.

  For Yonghe Gong (the Lama Temple), they love to light metre-long joss sticks to send their wishes to heaven on billowing fragrant clouds. They adore trailing the gardens, exploring the dark-as-night staircases or clapping their hands against the enormous bell.

  For the Wall, their favourite spot is definitely Mutianyu for the super-slick toboggan ride, snaking in a silver ribbon from the top of the Wall to the car park below. We make sure to wait a good few minutes for any grannies to reach the bottom before we go soaring down like a silver bullet. So cool, we want to pay the entry fee twice.

  It’s easy to do things kiddie-style in Beijing and we’re taking full advantage while we still can. We snaffle a crabapple toffee stick, jump on a rickshaw through the hutongs around Hou Hai and become once more entranced with this remarkable, historical city. Thank goodness we’re not too jaded to thoroughly enjoy these last months in the capital.

  The Countdown Has Begun

  10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

  I have avoided this topic for some time now, because, like everything in life, the moment you say it out loud, it tends to become reality. And I’m not sure reality is something I want to deal with right now.

  In fifteen weeks, we will be heading back to Australia. That’s around three and a bit months—roughly the same time it takes to walk the entire length of the Great Wall and back, or make it to the cash registers at Ikea near the North Third Ring Road.

  Fifteen weeks isn’t a long time but we’ve actually been preparing for this reality a lot longer than that. Like, six months or something. It takes that long just to stock up on items at Ya Show and Liangma flower market, not to mention the myriad places we need to experience ‘one more time’.

  Thankfully, we’ve just waved goodbye to a month’s worth of visitors—some of our dearest friends and family—who created the perfect opportunity to do all that touristy stuff we tend to backlog. It also allowed us to showcase the delicious array of restaurants we enjoy in the capital, and the quirky everyday life that makes Beijing so unique.

  Although the next few months will be like walking underwater to a sub-Atlantic Mount Everest then scaling it with cement-filled shoes, I’m still having enough moments of mental clarity to focus on all the things we need to do, see, feel, touch, hear and taste before we leave the East Second Ring Road for the very last time.

  We have a life to pack up, a house to sell, a house to buy, a school to locate, books to publish, places to travel to, work to wind up, friends and colleagues to bid farewell and an incredibly lush, culturally rich, deeply emotion-encrusted existence to leave behind. I can’t even bear thinking about it. Leaving this place behind ... it’s going to be shattering for our family. We’re probably going to need wild horses to drag us to the airport, not a mini van.

  Even though we don’t feel quite ready, part of us is also excited to be going Home. Australia is a beautiful place to live, despite the fact that a bunch of bananas will cost the same as an entire cart of bok choy at the wet market. It’s going to be wonder
ful to be back in the arms of our homeland, experiencing all the things we hold so close to our hearts.

  But now we have another place to hold close, while we still can, and the coming months will be filled with gathering and amassing as much of Beijing as we can fit in a suitcase.

  Nevertheless, the fact remains: very soon our family’s life will never be the same again.

  Embracing the Differences

  Where do we all come from and why are we here?

  I am a closet busybody. My greatest fantasy is to peek inside everyone’s house for a look at the décor and furniture placement. My other fantasy goes a little deeper. It involves peeking inside people’s brains—to understand the daily contributions to the complex tapestry that shapes a personality. Why are some of us quiet? Why do some of us like eating bull testicles? How can anyone really enjoy motor racing and why do some of us wither like dehydrated daisies the moment summer whispers across the hills?

  I love how Beijing is a jumble of differences we’ll never experience at home. Not only do we have differing personalities to contend with, we also have differing thought processes. Differing ways of being—culturally, mentally, emotionally, socially, spiritually. It’s fascinating to me. So fascinating, I asked three different mothers some questions about motherhood in the hope this would open up my understanding.

  My first target is a local Beijing girl, let’s call her Sami. She speaks English and is a well-educated customer service manager who has been married six years. Sami has one three-year-old child.

  My second is a Shanghai girl and stay-at-home mum, let’s call her Pia, who married an American man and has lived in both the States and Japan. They have two children and although she is perfectly Westernised, Pia still holds true to her Chinese roots.

  My last ring-in, let’s call her Shazza, is an Aussie girl with three children. She is married to an Australian, has been in Beijing for almost three years and works part time.

  Let’s just see what they have to say.

  Nosey-Parker: What do you love most about being a mother? Sami: I love my son. There is nothing happier than the arrival of a new baby. He is loveable and looks like me. He has come into my life and my blood. It’s said that a child is one part meat of the mother’s body. I feel so proud.

  Pia: Being a mother is the most wonderful thing in life; I can’t imagine a more important job or one more satisfying. I get such huge satisfaction from seeing my two boys growing up healthy, curious and with so many interests and talents. Cuddling them, making them feel better when they feel bad, exploring all that’s new to them is so wonderful. Being the one person they count on, trust, love and look up to. Yes, being a mother is special.

  Shazza: I love the fact that my children love me for being me, no strings attached. I also love that all three of my boys still love giving and getting hugs and kisses.

  Nosey-Parker: What is difficult about being a mother?

  Sami: It’s so difficult to educate a child and teach him good behaviour and manners. I explain to my son what’s right and wrong but he often can’t resist doing the wrong thing. It’s also difficult to balance work and life. I feel I don’t have enough time to be with my son, but I have to work.

  Pia: While it is not a thankless job, it often feels like a non-stop, no-break occupation, seven days a week, 365 days a year. It can be extremely tiring and it’s a challenge not to get upset when you put so much into mothering and the kids so often find ways to be uncooperative.

  Shazza: Learning when to let go and letting your children make their own mistakes. Sometimes this is heartbreaking.

  Nosey-Parker: Which parent has the most important parental role, you or your husband?

  Sami: My husband and I play a two-sided role. In China there is a saying, one of the parents should play ‘black face’ and the other should play ‘red face’, which means the couple should balance. Sometimes I’m strong and sometimes my husband is strong. Generally speaking though, my husband plays the most important role. He is patient and tender and plays with my son while I do housework.

  Pia: I believe, as a mother, I do, because I’m the one who is with them most of the time. I must set the rules, hand out the discipline, teach, guide and basically take care of them, for the most part. Although we do discuss the parenting rules, my husband follows the rules I’ve already set forth. We both agree that it’s the person who spends the most time with our kids who must play the most important role.

  Shazza: I feel both our roles are equally important. The children need both role models to become balanced adults—to learn to respect themselves and others.

  Nosey-Parker: How important is Chinese culture and heritage in your children’s lives?

  Sami: Some Chinese traditional ways are good for the child’s physiology and psychology. We prefer traditional Chinese medicine, which is good for the health. I cook Chinese cuisine for my son and never take him to McDonald’s or KFC. Chinese family attitude is important in our life. According to local tradition, my husband and I should go to our hometown with our son to visit the grandparents and in-laws during Chinese New Year and other holidays. We want to let our son know that he is one part of the whole family.

  Pia: Teaching our children Chinese culture is very important. It’s one of the main reasons we moved to Beijing as it’s a bit more traditional than Shanghai, where I’m from. My sons’ time here has been filled with celebrating Chinese holidays, eating many of the foods I ate as a child, reading Chinese stories, seeing plays, acrobatics, learning Chinese songs, taking Chinese drawing classes and, of course, learning the wonderful language—speaking as well as reading and writing. My sons have also taken abacus and special Chinese logic classes.

  Shazza: It is important to me that my children embrace whatever culture we live in. We are Australians living in China and therefore it’s very important for my kids to embrace the culture by speaking Chinese and participating in activities whenever they have the opportunity. My children will be going to bilingual schools in Australia to continue their appreciation of another culture. We are already planning a Chinese New Year dinner in Australia with friends and family.

  Nosey-Parker: What kind of role do grandparents and extended family have in your children’s lives?

  Sami: My mother takes care of my son when my husband and I go to work. She cooks for my son and plays with him, so my mother is also important to my son. Grandparents and extended family often spend money to help us, including buying the house.

  Pia: Though my husband’s family all live in the US, they are still in touch fairly often, and we take trips in the summer to see them. My family is mostly in Shanghai and we see them two or three times a year. Despite the distance, the boys’ grandparents still play a supportive role in their upbringing.

  Shazza: Unfortunately, due to my husband’s work, our boys don’t live near their grandparents or extended family very often. Their grandparents email the kids to their own personal email accounts—this is private time between them, and we, as parents, do not get involved. The kids are building a connection that means they will have another set of adults to turn to when in need, or simply just for fun. I think this communication is equally important for the grandparents.

  Nosey-Parker: What three things do you wish for your children?

  Sami: I wish that he is healthy, safe and happy. I wish that he has a good future by receiving a good education and making a great contribution to society. I wish that he has a happy family, with a nice wife and child.

  Pia: That they are able to have interests in life that keep them happy. That they are ambitious and strive to do their best. That they find someone they love and are able to have a healthy family.

  Shazza: For them all to be happy, safe and successful in whatever they choose to do. And of course—always love their mum.

  Differences? Parallels? Does it really matter? For three women embracing three very different lives, this experiment proves that motherhood is both a challenge and a joy, no matter where
you come from and no matter your beliefs, needs or creed.

  It also proves, once again, that deep inside our ribcages, no matter if our bodies are black, white or yellow, communist, Christian or atheist—a mother’s heart beats for her children.

  Thumpety-thump.

  Self-Publishing in Beijing I

  Is my story really marketable?

  When I first started thinking about self-publishing my children’s book, the thought passed through my mind and almost instantly my head was swamped with an enormous ocean, and there was that original, ambitious thought, bobbing in the centre of that ocean—a teensy speck among the galloping waves.

  It was all a little bit overwhelming. Especially in a place where English is a by-product and red tape binds every move you make.

  Where to start? How what when where who?

  Why never entered the picture, which is at least a good thing.

  So, first things first. I’ve written and edited countless manuscripts and I have to say there is nothing more valuable than the opinion of someone you respect. So I’ve asked some people I respect to read my manuscript and, lucky for me, I’ve had some great feedback.

  I also tested the book on kids and the reaction was also good. Feeling more and more confident—after all, it seems to me it would be quite important to publish a book that kids would actually enjoy.

  So now I’m onto researching the market. The target market. I’m not going to print this book in Mandarin (for now), so my only target market is the English-speaking expat community in China and in Australia (and hopefully some other countries in the future ... JK Rowling, look out).

  As for the kids I’m aiming the book at—it’s definitely the pre-to primary school range, but I’m sure older kids and adults will love it, too; it’s just that kinda story. I’m beyond excited about this, especially as there’s not much like it on the market (if anything at all).