Saturday

Breakfast was normal...until the fork incident. She was waving her fork around and it accidentally hit her forehead. She furrowed her brow, glared at the fork, and then chucked it across the table in retaliation. It hit a glass, which shattered into pieces. We need to find plastic ware asap. And improve our reflexes.

She is still a sweet giggle box with a fiery temper and HATES bedtime. She is mostly receptive to gentle correction, but watch out if she disagrees. She is picking up sign language and has almost mastered "more", "help", "all done", and "bye bye". She usually calls us ayi, which means auntie, or caregiver (to her). But when we remind her that we are mama and baba, she'll repeat that instead.

I did a second "load" of laundry in the bathtub. Problem is, most items take 2-3 days to dry since it is so humid here, and by then they smell kind of musty. We can send out our laundry, but it is $1.50 per item. Randy sent his out. But since I already have the laundry soap and am worried about losing my clothes again, I'm stubborn (or stupid) enough to keep doing mine myself.

When we first arrived we found it strange that all of the stores had racks of clothes out front - not for sale, but to dry in the sun. Undies, bras, everything, right out on the sidewalk. It gave a new meaning to "airing out your dirty laundry". But now I get why.

Our hotel is incredible and gigantic. There are various high end shops in the lobby. Randy considered buying a few new shirts instead of laundering them, but the $150 price tag made him reconsider.

There are eight elevators to choose from in the lobby. There is always someone in white gloves to "present" the elevator to us when it arrives. A very exciting job, I'm sure. :)

We have three trash receptacles to choose from outside our door: normal, recyclable, and hazardous waste. We're still not sure which one is the correct choice for dirty diapers, but we've placed our bets on hazardous.

Most of the american and european couples seem to be here for adoptions, especially since all americans are required to stay here for the consulate appointment. There are also a lot of middle eastern couples here. I think the women are absolutely beautiful in their traditional attire. Two of them appeared to be royalty, as their matching head garments were more like crowns than simple silks. Although for all I know about middle eastern attire, they could have been flight attendants.

There is one particular chinese man who we've seen almost every time we go out. He wears Mr. Potato Head glasses (I'm sure there is a better name) and has a goatee, so there is no mistaking him. He appears out of nowhere, then disappears just as quickly. We're wondering if he is some sort of spy tracking our every move. I'm no expert, but I think he needs a better disguise.

We took a trip to the grocery for more bottled water (the water here is not safe for us to drink, or even use to brush teeth). Apparently, every chinese person in the city also grocery shops on Saturday. It was a madhouse.

In the afternoon we took a taxi to Shamian Island, a picturesque and european looking park area with a few shops and restaurants. It is much quieter than the main part of the city and we loved it. There were tons of photo shoots in progress, mostly fashion and some wedding.

There appear to be two courses of action when a taxi is stuck in traffic. One is to honk incessantly, even if everyone in the line up is also honking. The other is to get out of the car and stand angrily with hands on hips. Sometimes a cigarette helps too. Obviously they both work, since the traffic eventually clears. We might have to try these techniques when we're back in Indy.

It is somehow acceptable to make a left hand turn from a right hand lane, even on a six lane highway during rush hour. Bonus points are awarded if it involves swerving to avoid bicycles. Again, Frogger. On steroids.

The highways are beautiful here. Every median is full of flowers and greenery. It is really a well kept and pretty city.

One shop owner commented on our daughter's beautiful shoes and asked where we got them. (Yes, THE shoes.) Our daughter picked up her foot and pointed toward her shoe, and the shop keeper was told us that she is brilliant to know English already. Obviously, she is. And obviously, she LOVES her shoes.

We found out that she is terrified of statues. And cats. (Doesn't look promising for her introduction to our two greyhounds back home.)

Finally, our daughter's journey has been incredible, but also quite unique and surprising. It has led us to a particular fork in the road and a decision we must make this week. Please pray for divine insight and wisdom for us to choose the right path. This little orchid deserves it.