In truth, I’m mentally prepared for the possibility that we won’t be able to return to China until next summer at the earliest. This is because I don’t imagine there will be many flights back to China in December at the height of the cold and flu season. It also seems that a vaccine for COVID-19 will still take several months to be available to the general public. Besides these factors, it will take time for me to get a new visa (my current one will expire in August), for Alaya to get a travel document (which has already expired), and for flight prices to fall back into a reasonable range. At the moment, there are not many flights to China available and the ticket prices are outrageous. Oh, and the president of the United States has just decided that we don’t need the Chinese Consulate in Houston? That by the way, is where I would have gone to get the aforementioned visa and travel document. Beyond that, I’m a family. Bringing me back to China is more complicated than moving a single faculty member. As such, I’m low on the “bring back to China” list. And there is actually a list. At the moment, I’m not on it at all.
When I read the email telling us what I had already started mentally preparing for since May 1st when one of my colleagues mentioned we might still be in our respective home countries for Christmas, I started crying. This surprised me, but I sat at the dining room table eating breakfast and crying. Ben was understandably concerned. I tried to read the part of the message that sealed our fate out loud, but my voice broke. We wouldn’t be able to go back to Kunshan.
That’s not how I expected to respond to the news.
Since we’ve been in the US, I’ve had three vivid dreams that we were back in China. When I awakened from the first dream, I had an anxiety attack. I’m not using that phrase lightly. I remember asking myself in the dream why I had come back to China. How did I get there? Did I even say good-bye to my family? However, the primary question was why did I leave the US? I was so shaken up at the prospect of suddenly being back in China, I couldn’t fall back to sleep until the sun rose that morning. The second dream occurred in the same way. When I awakened, my anxiety attack felt even more intense than the first. The thought of returning to China caused everything within me to revolt. Up until that point, I already knew at a conscious level that my time in China was nearing the end. I no longer have any interest in living there, and I plan to get my affairs in order so that I can move on to the next place. Getting my affairs in order will still likely mean staying in China until 2022, though. Wouldn’t it be great, however, if I somehow only had to do one more in China because I spent one of those years stuck in the US? If so, then why was I crying?
By the third dream, my sudden return to China was again a little jarring, but I was okay with it. I didn’t wake up the third time panic stricken and unable to return to sleep. It was at this point that I became aware that I was consciously and subconsciously okay with going back to China. There were also many benefits to returning since so many of our things were there. Also, living in the United States is so much more expensive than living in China. Even though I am staying at my dad’s home, the cost of living is still much higher than I am accustomed to. Also, babies just need so many items. The best way to put it is this. In China, I made a very good salary, approximately 3 – 4 times the national average, which means I am taxed 30-35% annually. In the United States, I make less than the national average, but I’m still paying 30-35% in taxes to the Chinese government, as well as a worldwide health insurance premium for myself, Ben, and Alaya. Another issue is that the Chinese RMB continues to fall in comparison to the dollar, and it feels like I get paid less every month. Then due to something called SAFE controls, Ben’s salary cannot be sent abroad, so we must live entirely within my salary. So, I’ve gone from living comfortably (not thinking too much about the price of my organic peaches) to having to consider every dollar I spend. That being said, I’m viewing his income as our default savings account. Of course, we’re just fortunate to both still have jobs and to be able to do them from anywhere in the world. It’s helpful to remind myself when money feels tight that we at least still have money coming in. So many people around the world only have money going out.
We’re also fortunate to have generous family and friends. As I mentioned, I’m living in my father’s home. My family members have also bought her clothes and toys. Some of them have just given me the cash to make purchases, which I’ve used on eating utensils, books, and diapers. Two of my American friends who are presently in China have a house in Augusta, Georgia, about 2.5 hours from me. They also have 4 children, and we were able to go to their home and raid it for toys and other items for Alaya. One of the big items we borrowed was a high chair. It’s a really nice high chair. The kind I would have loved to own if I owned a home, but this was too expensive to use for a few months. Fortunately, we’re able to borrow this one because their kids aren’t using it now. I was also able to get some clothes for Alaya in sizes from 12 – 24 months through them. I’ll probably still need to buy her some clothes, particularly for the winter months, but we’re definitely covered for summer items. As for clothes for us (we hadn’t packed any summer clothes), a friend of mine recommended swap.com, and I was able to get some nice items second hand for incredibly low prices (note: I don’t get paid for writing that).
So, we’re finding ways to make do. We have friends and family members who are supporting us. I’m also trying to budget to make sure that we only spend what we absolutely have to, and I’m doing my best to get as much of my Chinese salary and monetary benefits to my US accounts as possible.
But back to the tears over the email saying we had to stay; what was that about? I’m not sure. I think I really like our apartment. It has all of our things. I also spent a great deal of time organizing Alaya’s bedroom in China to make it safe and a place she could play. I love our washing machine and its self-cleaning function, which makes cloth diapering at home so much easier. I’ve considered restarting here, but the financial and other considerations have made it hard to decide what exactly to do. For instance, there are cloth diaper services that will provide the diapers and wash them for you weekly, but that costs about $150 a month at the low end. Compare that to a month’s supply of disposable diapers for $40. There are more earth-friendly diaper options that come in at the mid-range between these two costs, but my recent reading makes it unclear if biodegradable or compostable diapers are that much better for the environment if you aren’t actually composting them yourself. I’m weighing the cost, the impact on the environment, and the practicality of my options (e.g. cloth diapering myself would mean a lot more loads of laundry for me to do in-between working and parenting full-time at home). At the same time, I don’t know if the money, the work, or the parenting will matter if Alaya doesn’t have livable earth to inherit. I’m actually considering replacing my dad’s old washing machine with a new one to solve this problem. It might be cheaper for me to cloth diaper myself with a new washing machine than to use the cloth diaper service, and my dad gets a new machine out of it. I’m still trying to decide.
Besides our apartment, I envy the freedom people in China have right now to move around without great concern about COVID-19. Sure, in the US, a lot of people are moving around freely, but I don’t feel safe enough to do the same. At the same time, it was really, really hard not having any separation between home and work during the spring semester. It was hard having to choose between “Sleep when the baby sleeps,” which is great advice, and “Work or eat when the baby sleeps.” Also, Alaya only takes one nap a day now, as opposed to 2-3 during the spring semester. She’s also cruising, which means she can get into a lot of danger very quickly. It’s hard to teach a 75-minute class 4 days a week, hold 2 office hours, meet one-on-one with students/staff beyond my class who want to improve their writing, grade assignments, lesson plan, do research, write, and make sure that Alaya doesn’t put anything in her mouth that she shouldn’t. It’s particularly hard when you have my personality type, which is not so great at accepting help.
Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful that being a work-from-home Mom for at least another semester, maybe another year, means being able to breastfeed Alaya in-between meetings and grading, and when I need a break, I can spend time playing with her. It also means that I often don’t miss her “firsts.” I’m normally somewhere nearby when she does X for the first time. But this coming semester will likely be very, very difficult. One reason is that I want to have a life outside of working and parenting. There are things I want to accomplish that aren’t specific to my job and my daughter. I’m afraid those things will be the first to get sacrificed though, and I worry that this will only cause me to burn out.
So, what to do now?
Well, I’ve applied to extend Ben’s stay in the United States. I’ve highlighted some of the items I felt we’d need for our family to live here for another 6 months comfortably and bought those. I’ve started preparing the materials for my class (hoping to do as much as possible before the semester starts). I’m designing a schedule that helps me to maintain those non-work / non-family related goals. I’m also working to build and maintain my social networks. I feel the most important thing I can do throughout this time is to stay connected and maintain a heart of compassion.
**The featured image is from my and Alaya’s first Mother’s Day
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