Tian and some of the caregivers who knew her.
Ms. Tang, orphanage director
Baba taking pictures of bulletin board
pictures of Tian and others we know shown
The workers were glad to see Tian,
saddened that she did not understand them,
did not remember them
Ms. Tang, us, Mr. Pang, SWI Director
presenting us with handmade decoration
A short drive away to meet Tang's mother
She took Tian and a roommate to school for a year
Tian's alleged finding place, a park.
Star, Connie, Tian, Tang
Tian wandering in the park
I have to wonder her thoughts
we think prisoners
Next we moved to Nanhai middle school
to meet Tang's daughter, whom Tian remembered
Coming back to the island a couple of shots of the water on the north side - for whatever reason, this is Ellen's favorite picture.
Night descends on the island
Along the main drag between
Lucy's and the White Swan
Tian and Tim
Tim and Tian
Tian, Yu-Hsuan, Tim, Star
12/11 - Up at 430 am Saturday (330 pm Friday, Chattanooga time), a boxed breakfast awaits us, a bill for 2.5 yuan for phone calls made (40 cents), as we left the hotel at 545 am for our 8 am flight from Guangzhou to Beijing and Star's first flight. She pulls a mean suitcase.
Leaving Beijing around 1 PM, two weeks before Christmas.
Tears as we said goodbye China:
- for Star, leaving her homeland
- for us, missing it already
- for China's children, without babas and mamas
Written as we flew homeward bound -
The Land - ancient, timeless, a place I never dreamed of going.
Somewhere between journeys one and two a deep love and appreciation for the Land became a part of me. Leaving now is much harder this time not because of people I've met there - but leaving the land itself.
A deep love and respect has grown for this land, this culture, wishing to preserve what once was, not Westernizing it.
Social upheaval is good some times if what comes after is better than the past. Peaceful change is best, let the people embrace this ideal, make it their own.
For the orphans though, my heart hurts most - the least of us - tossed aside, no one of their own to love them for who they are - often the not physically or mentally perfect - left here and there....
Written late into the flight from Beijing to New York -
Across Hudson's Bay
North to South
frozen lands, puffy clouds stretch
to the horizon.
What life lies below us?
furry creatures, swimming creatures, birds, more?
Sliding further southward,
pools of lakes big and small dot to horizons
pattern there most likely is,
moon scape, snow scape,
rhyme or reason?
A settlement in the distance or
the sun winking on the snow?
Far, far away to the west,
dreams of China still exist.
Tears form and fall for my daughters
leaving their homeland, once and twice.
I, too, love their land, the Land.
More so though I love her children who have no family
to love them.