ONE: I’m no doctor, reporter, researcher or a public official and I am certainly no expert in nCoV-2019 (the Corona Virus that everyone around here is talking about).
I’m just an expat in China who is getting his news from the same sources you are.
The point of this post is not information or education . . . just a glimpse at what it going on here from one perspective. There are a billion and a half others.
TWO: This post is time-sensitive. It will be outdated by the time I finish writing it.
It feels a little like a ghost town around here.
The streets are empty. The shops are closed. It’s really quiet.
For context: I live in Qingdao (if you don’t know Qingdao you probably just pronounced it wrong in your head) — a city of about 9 million people on the east coast of China, roughly 1000 km (600 miles) from the virus epicenter, Wuhan.
Also for context — It’s a holiday week. China just celebrated the lunar New Year on Saturday so this is the week where things are a little quiet anyway — but not THIS quiet.
The impact of the virus is undeniable.
The government has been diligent about requesting that people stay home when they can and wear masks if they go out.
Masks are required in many of the places that remain open as well as services like DiDi (the Chinese version of Uber)
Bus lines and subways have been shut down or altered.
Our apartment complex has locked or blocked all but one gate and closely monitors anyone coming in or out. Deliveries and visitors are not allowed and residents have their temperature checked before going in.
Essentials are still available. The convenience store outside of our gate remains open as well as the market across the street and a supermarket 10 minutes away.
Veggies are in high demand.
Dozens of people stand in line at the big shops and the small shops are picked clean.
Schools have been canceled for an additional two weeks beyond the New Year break. That on top of the two week Christmas break for our international school and a quick trip back to the States for a funeral means that our kids will have been in school for 1 of 8 weeks in the middle of the winter.
Kids are thrilled.
Mamas are not.
So in summary:
The primary, direct and personal IMPACT for us is inconvenience.
The THREAT though, feels real . . . and multi-layered.
There is a PRESENT and PRACTICAL threat
The reality is that there is a scary new virus, uninvited and working its way through parts of China and eeking its way into other places.
While I am writing this about 6000 cases have been confirmed but yesterday when I started writing, that number was 4500. It’s higher if you’re reading this.
For contrast, the SARS epidemic of 2002-03 infected around 8000 people in total, however, it was more deadly than nCorona.
The impact for many people is higher than stir-crazy kids and long veggie lines.
We have lots of friends who live in Wuhan who are on complete lockdown, unable to leave. We have others who were traveling and are unable to return.
There is very much a sense of “wait and see” but that comes with an even stronger sense of “come on! seriously?”
The expat response that I have heard (primarily from Westerners) and if I’m honest, have felt myself, is that there is a lot of overreaction, bordering on light hysteria.
The flu is still killing more people.
In my city the most recent number was 15 cases . That’s .0000016% of the population.
But irritated and annoyed opinions aside. It’s out there. People have died. And (the big kicker) we don’t know what’s going to happen next.
The NY Times describes it this way:
“Outbreaks of new viral diseases are like the steel balls in a pinball machine: You can slap your flippers at them, rock the machine on its legs and bonk the balls to the jittery rings, but where they end up dropping depends on 11 levels of chance as well as on anything you do.”
The percentages may be tiny when it comes to confirmed cases compared to the population but the response is sitting right around 100%.
The uncertainty has people on edge.
Two days ago, I forgot to put my mask on and the guy at the shop nearly panicked. He told me in Chinese that there was a virus spreading and then in very clear and stern English he said, “Stay home!”
Even though the use of standard, cheap surgical masks is minimally protective at best, they seem to have provided a universal layer of slight peace of mind.
I found it especially interesting that the worker behind the supermarket meat counter was wearing a mask . . . but handled our ground pork with her bare hands.
I took a picture but with my luck the Chinese media would pick up on this post and the supermarket would be shut down.
This is where it gets interesting. Where there are gaps in understanding they are often filled with the loudest voices.
And scared people are loud.
Lists of anyone who has traveled here from Wuhan complete with their ID numbers, phone numbers, and other personal information have been circulating publicly, sparking online conversations with a mob mentality.
This threat feels like it is lurking deeper than our sheer ignorance of what this thing is and how it will impact people. Paranoia is fueled by speculation — armchair doctors who read something somewhere and tout worst-case scenarios as likely and imminent danger.
So far — they are more annoying than the virus.
All of the threats are real.
The impacts are vastly different.
The actual threat of contracting the virus remains low but is growing faster than anyone is comfortable with.
The perception threat may or may not be based in pure, scientific fact but if the veggie shop guy feels it — we don’t get veggies.
The paranoid threat is wobbly. The impact is unnecessary but very real for people who are perceived to be high risk. To date, I haven’t seen any torches or pitchforks, but the mob is chattering.
Moments like these crank up the volume . . . on EVERYTHING.
When hard uncertainties hit an entire population, every preexisting condition gets inflated.
The stress.
The anxiety.
The frustration.
The gossip.
The speculation.
The annoyance.
The paranoia.
The selfishness.
The anger.
The impatience.
The fear.
But also. The best bits.
The resolve.
The encouragement.
The support.
The solidarity.
The strength.
A different flavored mob organized a united, massive, public display of people from all over Wuhan, who, while confined to their homes, opened their windows and yelled,
“JIA YOU! WUHAN!”
“Jia you” is a beautiful and incredibly functional Chinese phrase. You hear it in the final stretch of an Olympic race or in the fourth quarter of a basketball game. You also hear it as encouragement from a good friend when you’ve been knocked down and you need to get back up.
Literally, in English, it would mean something like “Add oil” but you get the point right?
Step on the gas.
More fuel.
We’ve got this.
My friend posted this video from her neighborhood.
Just ask me and I’ll tell you about the ridiculousness of the overreaction and how genuinely irritating it is.
Just don’t ask me to be responsible for the lives and peace of mind of a fifth of the world’s people.
As a visitor, I’m thankful for the quick, decisive and strong action of authorities (government, local, school and more) who are responding not only to the threat of a real and unclear virus but also to the perception and paranoia of the people they are responsible to protect.
Whether I would do it differently or not . . . I don’t want your job.
No animals were harmed in the posting of this blog.
I’m pretty proud of that.
My mother crocheted this basketball for me more than 35 years ago. For context, she was the most gracious, tender, sweet, kind-hearted, loving knockoff artist and brand thief that has ever lived.
This ball was her response to my ridiculous, preteen desire for a Nerf hoop. You know — the kind kids used to hang on the back of their bedroom doors before smartphones were invented. The kind that probably cost about $3 in 1982. The kind all the normal kids had.
She also crocheted a hoop to go with it because she had mad yarn skills and a hypersensitive frugality gland.
I did life with this ball. Perfected my jumper. Dunked like Jordan in slow motion. Played a million games of HORSE. I even used it as the key gauge of discernment for a solid portion of my teenage years.
“If this goes in she totally likes me . . . ok, two out of three.”
Other kids had magic 8 balls. Mom offered to crochet one of those too. I passed.
In many ways, it sparked my life long love for basketball which led me to TWO high school state championships (of small Christian, private schools in Illinois) AND nearly launched a career modeling short shorts.
I’ll pause for a moment and let you take that in.
I realized something important last summer when I stumbled across my ball packed away in one of our sentimental boxes of “stuff we don’t want to throw away but also don’t want to ship all over the world a dozen times” (ask any expat if that’s confusing).
This ball is a ROCK for me. Not literally.
A ROCK is something I talk a lot about and it is CRITICAL for your kids, especially if they’re growing up under the constant cloud of neverending global transition (like mine are).
It’s a super simple concept really:
ROCKS don’t move when everything else does.
Say it backwards.
When everything else moves . . . Rocks don’t.
This is a massive game-changer for families who encounter incessant change. If that describes you then you’ve probably uttered these words in a time of chaos and self-pity:
“UGH!! EVERYTHING IS CHANGING . . . AGAIN!”
ZERO judgment here but that’s a horrible lie that we choose to believe. NOT EVERYTHING is changing but when it feels like that, it is time to get CRYSTAL CLEAR on what is STAYING THE SAME . . . what CAN stay the same.
ROCKS are the nouns and the verbs that can be true and present whether you live in a cornfield in Illinois, an apartment in China or a space station on Mars.
So I was thrilled to pass on a stable piece of my childhood to my son.
Then we got a dog — and you know what happens next.
But here’s the big, heart-wrenching REST OF THE STORY.
Ready for this?
My son (who just turned 10) broke the news to me with tact and empathy well beyond his years.
“Uhh. Dad. Do you know how to sew?”
“Yeah, a little. Why do you ask?”
With appropriate fear and sensitivity to what might happen next, he held up the shredded ball.
(next part censored)
After a few minutes (but well before the steam had stopped rolling out of my ears) he spoke with a shaky voice that I’ve only heard from others offering condolences at a funeral.
“Dad.”
Me, still fuming, flaring my nose, gritting my teeth and determined not to take it out on him.
“Yes.”
“I’m feeling two emotions right now.”
“Ok.”
“One. Sadness. Because this is the only thing I have from Grandma Paula and I never even got to meet her.”
“Ok.”
“And two. Forgiveness.”
And here are the morals of the story:
ROCKS matter. Whoever you are — however you are doing life — something needs to NOT change.
Even ROCKS don’t last forever. Stuffed ducks get lost. 8 balls break. Dogs happen.
The things that ROCKS represent, and teach and instill in the character of your kids are worth a billion times more.
It feels really good when you realize you are raising kids who are better than you.
And here is the happy ending.
I think we can save the ball. Won’t be perfect. But even the scar . . . will be a reminder of forgiveness.
And hey — if you don’t know what your rocks are . . . figure them out.
“Jesus looked up in the tree and said, ‘Zacchaeus, you come down . . . and I’ll give you a Snicker bar.'”
-ME: circa 1976
Mary Musgrave loved that story.
Not the Zacchaeus one, the one about me rewriting the Bible so it made more sense. I can’t count how many times she retold it, laughing, and nearly in tears.
Mary (pictured above), was my Sunday School teacher, my great friend’s mom, my mom’s best friend, one of the most consistent encouragers in my life and one of the finest examples I have ever seen of how to love people regardless.
Mary died this year . . . on the wrong side of the planet.
In the city and with the people she loved . . . but nowhere near me. Wrong side.
I love living abroad . . . but this part is stupid.
Incessant “goodbyes” are, hands down, the worst part of a global life but it’s a whole new level when you find out that your last goodbye was your last goodbye.
If you’re an expat you know what I mean.
If you’re new to this, or just thinking about it, you should brace for that.
If you love someone who is on the wrong side of the planet — here are some things you should know.
ONE: IT WILL BE AN EXPAT WHO FINALLY INVENTS COST-EFFECTIVE TELEPORTATION
Star Trek made it look so easy — but expats are motivated. We’ll figure it out. Give us a minute.
TWO: EXPAT GUILT IS A REAL THING
There is nothing like the shame dump of being on the wrong side of the globe at critical moments. Missing your nieces and nephews growing up. Parents getting older. Birthdays. Weddings. Big games. Hard things.
And especially last goodbyes.
Feels like you should have been there?
You are SO SO not alone.
THREE: YOU SHOULD PRE-PROCESS REALLY HARD THINGS
Who would you fly home for?
If they died. If they were about to die. If they were sick or hurt or got arrested or just needed you.
Ouch. Right?
Try this one.
Who would you NOT fly home for?
Seriously?
Jerk.
It can feel like playing lifeboat but it’s an important reality for an expat to process. Thinking about the hard stuff before the hard stuff happens will give you the space you need to apply unruffled wisdom when the time comes.
And.
(lean in, I’m about to tell you something)
Flying home does NOT equal love.
It’s not the only way. It doesn’t mean you don’t if you don’t . . . and sometimes . . . you just can’t.
Sometimes you shouldn’t.
You’re not a bad person (at least not because of that).
Want to pile an extra load of anxiety on top of the pain of sudden loss?
Add bad financial decisions to a terrible day.
Plan for the unplanned.
FIVE: YOU’RE NOT NORMAL SO YOU SHOULDN’T SETTLE FOR NORMAL MOMENTS
If you’re living on the wrong side of the planet you’ve given something up.
Moments. Lots of them.
The normal people get VOLUME MOMENTS. Regular, everyday moments. Moments in bulk. Simple moments but tons of them.
You don’t have that right now — so crank up the volume on the ones you get.
INTERNALLY and EXTERNALLY.
Internally – PAY ATTENTION to the value of you’re existing relationships. Stop for a minute. Soak them up. Take them in.
They’re really good.
Externally – MAKE IT REAL. Put it out there. Say it . . . until they know it. Don’t assume that they know it even if they should — people are dense.
Say it now.
Before your last goodbye.
WOW!!
For real. This is a depressing blog post huh?
Here’s why it’s fresh for me right now.
A year ago I took a selfie with Mary and hugged her goodbye.
It was our last.
A few weeks ago we stopped in to see Bill (her husband) . . . Snapped a selfie and hugged him goodbye.
That was our last.
I knew it would be.
What I didn’t know was that just an hour before I said my last goodbye to Bill . . .
I also said my last goodbye to my father.
So my point is this . . .
STOP TAKING SELFIES!!
Sorry . . . Just trying to break the tension.
My point is wherever you are on the planet — enjoy every moment you’ve got with your people (here and there) — get intentional about bridging the gaps — and when you hug them goodbye, hold it for just a little bit longer.
Living on the wrong side of the planet? Missing someone who is? Wrestling with loss and distance?
Projects. Dreams. Grand intentions and great ideas that line up perfectly with my life’s purpose.
Some ideas are a quick flash and then gone — they die crumpled up at the bottom of my computer bag or lost in a hard drive abyss. Others though . . . the good ones . . . make it to the cupboard. Tucked away for safe keeping but helping no one.
The first two chapters of six different books.
The expat video course that only made it to paper.
The family project that was SUCH a good idea . . . and still is.
This coming year, for me, is gearing up to be significant.
Exciting.
Pivotal.
You too?
Now, more than ever, I’m making conscious decisions to take the things I’ve been talking about for years off the shelf and move them out of the cupboard of grand intentions — but I’m not just making Resolutions and neither should you.
Why?
Because we’ve got better options. Much better. Astronomically better.
Here are 3 proven ways to get your dreams off the shelf.
ONE: GET CRYSTAL CLEAR ON YOUR WHY
For me, the definition of genius is something so simple that everyone who hears it says, “well DUH! that’s not exactly rocket science” . . . and then realizes that it would transform everything if they actually did it.
Simon Sinek’s, Start With Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to Take Action is that kind of genius. Any project, idea, vision, mission, job or life that hasn’t answered the question, “Why am I doing this” will at the very best lack joy and will more likely die young.
Duh.
But do you?
Know your why?
You know your “what” — Write a book. Move abroad. Get a raise. Build relationships. Learn the language.
You may even know your how — but until your WHY is at the core and driving the rest something will be missing.
Simon says it well . . . Watch his TED Talk below and check out StartWithWhy.com
TRY THIS:Spend one hour clarifying your “why”. Jot down everything you can think of and then refine it. Pull it all together into a statement that you can easily remember and always come back to.
Here’s mine: To equip global people so that they can do their thing more effectively. Another way to say it is “to bless global people so they can be a blessing.”
TWO: WRITE YOUR GOALS DOWN
Studies show that writing down your goals increases the likelihood of accomplishment by 43%.
Here’s what happens when you write your goals down.
They move from the “Grand IDEA” center in your right brain to the “get stuff done” center in your left brain.
You dramatically increase your own likelihood of recall.
You produce more and more clarity which is critical if they’re ever going to become real.
You expose the unrealistic bits which creates an opportunity to remove barriers.
You create a visual to keep in front of you and move towards.
For clarity here — the scribbled hieroglyphics from the initial right brain, “this would be so cool” session don’t count as writing your goals down. No one can read that but you.
Get specific.
What will this look like when it exists?
How can I make it more specific?
When will it happen?
What is the path to get there?
TRY THIS:Commit to three, 30-minute sessions this week (name the day and the time) where you will write down your goals for the year. Start with everything. Big dreams. No limits. Refine that and shoot for producing something that would be clear enough for someone else to read and understand exactly what your goals are.
The same study showed that when you set a regular, ongoing appointment with your accountability partner that number jumps to 95%.
Let me grab my calculator.
Yep. I was right.
That’s only 5% failure. That looks like this.
It’s not rocket science . . . but it kind of feels like magic.
TRY THIS: Choose a partner. Maybe it’s a friend with similar dreams. Maybe it’s a colleague that you can also support. Maybe you’re ready for a coach. Could be face to face, could be online. Just choose your partner and set up a schedule to discuss your forward movement.
I sincerely hope that you are one of the 8%.
The victorious New Year’s Resolutioners who are about to lose weight, write a book and get a raise.
But if you’re one of the unlucky 92% (and let’s just presume you are) . . . there is a better way.
Get crystal clear on your why.
Write your goals down.
And partner up with a plan.
I’m watching it work in my own life already . . . and I am SO EXCITED about this coming year because one by one my lofty aspirations are coming off the shelf.
More details to come.
You too?
Tell me about it. Comment below. What have you been talking about but have never done? How are you going to move forward? What’s your why?
Hey, want to start a fight? Get expats talking about language learning.
Not the new ones. They all agree. “We can’t WAIT to start speaking (insert language here)!! It’s gonna’ be great!”
They high five and chest bump each other as if one day soon they’re going to blink and be fluent.
It’s cute.
Those are not your fighters. You want to look for the people who break out in hives around those people. Grab two and get a good seat.
We begin with a philosophy of language learning that gets pummeled, shattered and rebuilt the by unique actualities of our experience. Regardless of where the individual expat lands (or how fluent they become) you should be warned that when you poke at our language learning paradigms you’re likely to hit a nerve that may be connected to our most ongoing frustrations, our most embarrassing failures, and our most painful insecurities.
Get ready to rumble.
Learning a new language (and how you feel about it) is a fertile ground for internal and external judgment.
I am SO BAD at language learning.
I don’t know how you can live here and NOT learn the language.
I thought I’d be fluent by now.
Must be nice never getting out of the expat bubble huh?
I’m too old for this.
You’ll never REALLY know someone if you can’t speak their language.
Do you have a picture menu?
So what if you paused?
What would it look like if you withheld your judgments for a bit, admitted that we’re all unique and then built your own path forward based on your own realities?
Here are four questions you should consider as you chart your language learning course
ONE: WHAT’S YOUR ROLE?
Different expats DO different things so a “one size fits all” paradigm AND a “one size fits all” judgment is misguided. Consider what you came to this place to do and the level to which language learning would support that. “How essential is it?” is the low bar and “how helpful could it be?” is at the top.
Are you an aid worker expected to be fluent?
A diplomat expected to be impressive at dinner?
A missionary with a message?
An international school teacher in an English immersion school?
Are you on a two-year contract or in it for the long haul?
Your role is the first driving factor but definitely not the only one.
TWO: WHAT IS YOUR GOAL?
If the “role” question is professional then the “goal” question is personal. Regardless of the obligatory expectations placed on you by the people who sent you there, what do YOU hope to accomplish while you are there? There is LITERALLY no better place in the world to learn a new language than where the people who speak that language live. While you are there, how are you going to leverage the rich learning environment?
Get specific AND realistic. Finish this sentence. “Before I leave this place I’m going to ________________”
Be able to read a menu without pictures.
Talk politics with my taxi driver.
Share my life story with a group.
Sound like a local on the phone.
Once you have set your goals you can work backward from there.
Get crystal clear on what you want AND what you don’t.
THREE: WHAT’S YOUR REALITY?
I have this conversation a lot:
“If you’re an English speaking teacher in an English speaking school on an English speaking team with English speaking support staff . . . and you’re studying Chinese for two hours a week and you’re not a savant . . . um . . . your goal of total fluency in six months is . . . how should I say this . . . NEVER, EVER GOING TO HAPPEN.”
It’s not a BAD goal . . . it’s just a stupid one.
Consider your realities.
How immersed are you?
How much time can you commit?
How much do you actually care?
How many screaming kids are running around your home?
Here’s the beauty of it — when you know your realities you can adjust them. Armed with a legitimate understanding, look back at your goals and reassess what it will take to hit them.
You might also adjust your expectations.
Both are good.
FOUR: WHAT’S YOUR PERSONALITY?
This is a big one and all personalities are NOT created equal, especially when it comes to language learning. That DOESN’T mean that some personality types cannot learn language but it does help you navigate the best WAY to learn.
Don’t swallow the LIE that outgoing people are automatically better language learners. Some of the most fluent speakers I’ve ever met tip the scales on the introvert side but they didn’t pick it up by faking extroversion. They found methods that connect with WHO THEY ARE and they dug in hard.
Here’s a “for instance”: When you make a mistake and people laugh, what happens?
You get embarassed and are afraid to try again?
You study even harder so that never happens again?
You laugh with them?
You kick them in the face and scream, “SPEAK ENGLISH THEN!!!!”
Getting crazy comfortable with WHO YOU ARE lets you customize your approach.
But please don’t kick people in the face.
Ok?
Embracing the nuance of your role, your goal, your reality, and your personality will free you up from the pressure of being driven OR dragged down by someone else’s expectations of how great you should be.
AND
It’s not all about you.
It will also give you the space to offer grace and encouragement to the diverse and marvelous group of bumbling foreigners around you.
Build your plan. Make it personal. And stop fighting.
ONE LAST THING — IF YOU ARE LEARNING CHINESE PLEASE KEEP READING
I want to introduce you to my buddy Kwadwo (however you pronounced his name in your head was wrong — try saying it QUĀY.jo).
He has launched SPEAK EVERYDAY CHINESE and this is what I love about it.
It’s QUALITY (kind of tired of the poorly done stuff, amen?)
It’s ENGAGING (great for people like me who are easily bored)
It’s SO, SO RELEVANT (no more lessons on how to buy stamps for your postcard). Kwadwo will teach you stuff that you will actually use in a way that will have you using it today.
Actual lessons:
Six different ways to say “don’t take my picture!”
What to do when DiDi calls.
How to order Starbucks.
How to say, “I’m a vegetarian” or “no bones please” or “can I get a signature hot chocolate with whipped cream”
I love this guy — and I feel cooler for knowing him.
There are days that expats have to live but normal people never do. I call them Stupid Expat Days.
Where I come from you run to the post office to renew a passport IF you even need one. Not so where I live now.
This time around it was my 8-year-old son who was up for renewal.
That means a big, inconvenient, miss work, skip school trip in the middle of the week to the embassy which is in a different part of the country and that’s just the travel day. By the time that day actually arrived, I had two painful weeks of prep already invested. Faulty websites that gave no confirmation of an actual appointment. Ridiculous phone calls to embassy staff who gave me the equivalent of “go with your gut — if it feels like you’ve got an appointment then show up.” Traipsing across the city at the last minute to track down documents we thought were in our living room. Getting stuff filled out and notarized and searching for the dirt cheapest plane ticket because this was not a planned expense.
Found them. They were SO CHEAP . . . for about 20 seconds.
That’s when I realized I had the little toggle switch set on US Dollars and I was reading it in Chinese Yuan. My happy price got multiplied by 7.
We booked a train.
That meant five hours there and a 1 hour subway for a 30 minute meeting only to sprint back to the subway so we could ride another hour to get to the five hour train home — with an 8 year old who gets cranky when he’s tired.
I woke him up at 4:30 am. It was nearly 1 am when we returned home.
Normal people don’t have to do this stuff. This is a stupid expat day if there ever was one.
Here’s the thing. I’ve only got this kid for a little while and time is moving way too fast.
Passports are the perfect pictoral, timeline reminder of that. Five years at a time we fill out the paperwork and catch ourselves saying how did that even happen? Where did that time go? Look how cute he was.
Looking at my son reframed the whole stupid day for me.
Normal people don’t GET to do this stuff. It was a holiday not a waste of time. Special expat father and expat son bonding, just me and him.
I became dead set on tattooing the phrase “PASSPORT DAY” on his brain so he will tell his kids about it years from now as if it were the pinnacle of his childhood.
“When I was your age we got to do PASSPORT DAYS and they were AMAZING!”
When am I ever going to have 20 straight hours to hang out with this kid and do NOTHING but eat total junk, ride on trains, take selfies and chase a little blue book?
I’ll tell you when . . . when he’s 13 and then NEVER AGAIN.
Great. Now I’m crying because passport days don’t come often enough.
Thanks Blog.
Loving Stupid Expat Days is not simply putting a happy stamp on the hard stuff and it runs far deeper than just “looking on the bright side”. It was a long, long, long day but we found the best bits and we chose to hang out there. I love passport days and my hope is that because I choose celebration, even in the context of the irritation my kids will too.
