Wednesday, November 29
We were on the bus by 8am, ready to head for the airport. One last time, we had to wait – this time for Natalie, one of the Terrible Trio. Apparently she and John had gone bar hopping on their last night in Shanghai, and they didn’t get back to the hotel until 3.
Most of our tour group was taking the same plane as we were, from Shanghai to Tokyo, and connecting from there to their long flights home. All of the faces looked familiar by now.
On the 40-minute ride to the Shanghai Pudong airport we asked David more questions about the one-child policy currently in place in China. Iris, the guide on our day in Lushan, had told us that if a couple had a girl first, they could try again for a boy. This seemed to be verified for me as I looked around at the children during the week. Most of the women I saw had only one small child. But if there were two children, they were either twins (I saw one pair) or the older child was a girl.
But David told a different story. He said that the one-child policy in China allowed only three exceptions: (1) the first child was physically or mentally defective; (2) there had been a divorce and the man in the second marriage had no children; or (3) there had been a divorce and the woman in the second marriage had no children. He said that if a couple had more than one child they would pay a high fine. Additionally, the second child would not get a birth certificate, which would severely limit the job opportunities available. I wondered why his story didn’t match that of Iris.
We asked him about Chinese orphanages, since several of us knew American couples who had adopted a Chinese infant. We understood that there were many more girl babies available. David said he knew that Americans preferred girls, and one woman said that was because we were concerned for the girls. I don’t know, though; I suspect there are no boys available for adoption. We asked David where the babies came from who lived in the orphanages. He said they were from unmarried women, that the women would be shamed if they had babies without being married. I had trouble reconciling that story with the knowledge that most babies available for adoption in China are girls. I would expect about half girls and half boys if David’s version was accurate.
I know a man whose wife went to China two years ago to pick up their infant daughter. He told me that if a Chinese couple has a girl baby and gets pregnant with a boy, they will give up their girl to the orphanage. He said that an unmarried pregnant woman can be punished. I’ve also heard that girl babies in China are killed. Art remembers David telling us that doctors can’t perform ultrasounds because if they determine that the baby is a girl there’s a possibility of an abortion. But I believe I read somewhere that the one-child policy results in 300,000 abortions a year in China. I don’t know how much truth there is in these stories. But I know there are multiple variations, so I suspect that the baby situation is murky. Knowing that David worked for the Chinese tourist bureau, I expect he told a sanitized version of the girl-baby situation. I decided not to ask him any more questions.
David also commented that in ten years (I think that was the number he gave) there will be 40 million more males than females in China. I wonder how that will impact the domestic tranquility – so many men competing for so many fewer women! I’ll bet there are riots or civil disturbances initiated by the men without wives.
Our progress through the airport, including customs, went smoothly. By now I was accustomed to the stern-faced workers and their military-looking uniforms. The flight to Tokyo seemed quick, the layover bearable, and the flight home was welcome. I was surprised that the leg from Tokyo to Seatle was two hours shorter (7 hours) than it had been going the other direction. Tail winds, I was told.
Because of the International Date Line, we arrived in Seattle at 8:30 am on Wednesday, November 29 – three hours before we left Shanghai! I remembered the promise I’d made to Art about taking public transportation home. As I wheeled my suitcase out to the bus stop in front of Sea-Tac, I hoped Art would look at my pale, sleep-deprived face and say, “Hey, honey, let’s take the shuttle.” But he didn’t. The thought of a trip home for $5 instead of $45 was apparently too much to pass up. And I decided not to ask - I’d agreed, after all. It took two and a half hours and two bus transfers for us to get from the airport to the QFC grocery store near our house. I sat on a bench with the luggage and a latte while Art walked the mile home to our house for the car. A few people asked me where I’d been. When I said, “China”, they were impressed. And, as I sat there in my travel clothes, with my raincoat in my lap, I was impressed too. We had seen and done a lot in our eight days away.