Saturday, October 30, 2021

Quarantine lessons learned in a China hotel...and meeting some angels...


                       Angel #1 (Robert) in Detroit who helped us get the codes. 

       Thanks to Rowyu, (Angel #2) we survived quarantine. 

                                           The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.

But I have promises to keep.

And miles to go before I sleep, 

And miles to go before I sleep.    --Robert Frost

When I returned to China this fall, I realized there are not many of us ex-pats still here in China. Many ex-pats left when Covid began. More departed after months of prolonged travel restrictions and plane cancellations to see loved ones. A large portion of people are unable to return. We have definitely witnessed an exodus of people who have migrated to other homes.

For the few of us who left and returned, we had to quarantine in a hotel for two-three weeks--most of the time alone. I dreaded it all summer, but being willing to do it because I wanted to see my loved ones. There was some pain knowing I would have to pass through much-complicated health surveillance and codes, tests, and eventually quarantine. It gave me angst every time I thought about it--even a few tears of desperation when I heard many people whose codes and applications were not accepted. With my husband still in China, I knew I needed to return to be with him. To add more complications, I would not only be by myself but with my 19-year-old son who has autism. And I knew quarantine somehow had to be palatable to him.

                                                          Arriving at the Shanghai airport

Previous to leaving the US, I kept remembering a solo experience I had long ago as a 16-year-old. As teenagers, my sister and I went on a month-long survival trip in southern Utah. As part of the survival course, we had to spend about five days by ourselves. One of the university instructors came to check on us once or twice in those days to make sure we were safe in our overhangs, nestled alongside the muddy Escalante River. The entire group of us were perched in small caves or overhangs several hundred feet apart so that we could experience a solo time. Our only companion was a little smoldering fire.

In that time, I read, journaled, and mostly just thought about who I wanted to become when I returned to high school after that summer trek. I made solemn promises to myself. I learned many lessons in that month that I still refer to today. But the solo experience, more than any other lesson in that month, launched me to leave my younger self in the sand when I came home. We were given time as a precious gift to mull over our decisions. We reflected on who we would be when we went home. I came as a young adolescent on the survival trip and returned as a fledgling adult (at least I liked to think so 😃). This summer, I tried to reassure my anxious fears that I could make this quarantine experience transformational like my solo time so long ago.

True to my apprehensions, the China quarantine was tough-- at times, seemingly insurmountable. Once we passed the gauntlet of tests that I knew many who could not, we were finally able to board the plane.  After our 16 hours of flights, we landed in Shanghai,  We were relieved to get to our designated quarantine hotel room. 

                                       Every day we got our food delivered to us three times.

After a few days, I began to throw the food away because I could not bear to see any more soggy white rice and oily vegetables that were left at our door three times a day. However, I do acknowledge someone was thankfully leaving food. I did not have to fix, find, or hunt for it. No one was going to starve. This was not a prison camp or survival ordeal. We had few pleasures and welcomed every phone call with elation and joy.  Surprisingly, I even heard the healthy cry of my first grandchild who was born during my quarantine!

                                                             Our room for two weeks...

A large, but ordinary window (that opened...an extra gift) became my window to gaze at a Shanghai suburb park. This would be the only lens to the outside world for a few weeks. We were not allowed to leave the room. As I peered down to the street below, I imagined where people were rushing to as they briskly walked the streets. I envied their mobility and any destination they had to go. How I ached to be outside again, feel the wind, and just walk on a normal sidewalk with a crowd. 

                                                        A view that kept us at least a little sane. 

Slowly, the days passed one by one. Sometimes I even forgot what day it was. We passed the endless hours in quarantine by distracting ourselves from small tasks. We danced, wrote, created art, read, wrote, and watched some downloaded movies. 

Trying to move every day made it bearable to be in a room for weeks...

My quarantine experience for the most part made me realize that I enjoy a very blessed life. I have (for the most part) not only had enough food but I can choose what I have eaten most of my life. I could move and walk where I wanted. I have never been sentenced to jail before, and quarantine gave me increased motivation to keep it that way. 😀 

                                                                       Doing art...

Beyond the happy birth of a grandchild, our time had some shocking news as well.  Indeed, it proved to be a time to reflect when I heard a young professor who I had loved since he was a child had died in a tragic accident. His death made all of us who had known him ponder on what made a good life. His life had been cut short, but he left indelible, undeniable lessons for countless people.

Perhaps all of these realizations are expected. But my biggest surprise during quarantine was not what occurred in my own musings and reflections; it was in meeting two strangers--two angelic Chinese men who helped us get back to China. One in Detroit helped us get our Chinese health codes, which can take many hours to finally turn green--if at all. It might sound benign, but anyone who has had to do it knows it is like a test that was designed for exclusion and failure. 

The second angel  I met getting off the plane in Shanghai. He was a young graduate student who had lived in the US for nine years. He quickly told me many people had helped him when he was in the US for school, and he wanted to do the same for us. He cheerfully helped me navigate the maze of tests and regulations. 

Although my oral Chinese is quite good, I felt like I had been dropped off in the middle of Finland to figure out how to start a business. It was a time of feeling lost and bewildered, almost like being blindfolded. Two strangers, unknowingly and without a desire for any compensation, came to rescue us. Sometimes people come into your life and you honestly have to admit you could have never succeeded without their help and friendship. And that is who they became to me--instant friends. 

During my quarantine, I intently contemplated what constituted a good life. If I cannot repay or give these strangers/friends anything for what they have done for me, what can I do? How can I give back to others or in other words, be someone else's angel? Who are the others who have assisted me before? Did I even realize and acknowledge I was being rescued? 

Hopefully, I left again an old part of myself in the sand like long ago in the deserts of Escalante. I learned anew: it is in those relationships, both known and unexpected that we are rescued. God sends angels to us--like a new grandchild, but also strangers who come into our lives at crossroads when we get lost in Finland. Sometimes everyone needs an angel disguised as a kind stranger. 





Tuesday, May 25, 2021

Iceland: Painting the Landscapes of our Lives

 "I realized that the story of even so small a place can never be completely told and can never be finished. It is eternal, always here and now, and going on forever."   --Wendell Berry

The beginning of the painting of "Foss Farm" in Westfjords, Iceland

The finished painting this week...

A few weeks ago Elias finished a painting of a Westfjords, Iceland landscape. The painting is of some nondescript cliffs with a gushing waterfall that spills into a tempestuous river. The river flows and widens in a stone's throw to a fjord in the Greenland Sea--the far north Atlantic Ocean. If you want to be specific, it is called the 66th parallel north--the circle of latitude that is 66 degrees north of the equator.  If you have ever been to Iceland, waterfalls are almost as plentiful as the sheep that roam the fields and countryside. But this waterfall is uniquely special to our family. You see it is not just any waterfall. My great-grandfather, also named Elias, was born on this remote farm overlooking an inlet sea fjord. As I walked along the road in front of the farm, I imagined him daily hearing the roar of this waterfall while it supplied his family with constant water.  

It was early summer when I took the below photos at 11:30 pm. It would be a few hours before dusk would momentarily descend on the scene. The wind was not howling on that night. We could gaze out at the tranquil fjord's calm waters where my great-great-grandfather, Eggert, had left the farm in his boat to head to Norway. His motive to leave? He was a ship captain, trained in Denmark, and took upon himself the responsibility to leave the Westfjords to bring back food for the villages around him. They were practically starving that year so he turned his head to the wind and left his Westfjords farm. He would make the trip a few times in his lifetime. 

My grandmother told me the cliffs that rose above the farm hid puffin nests. My great-grandfather, Elias, would be tied up with a rope from his brother or father. and then dangle from the cliff to retrieve eggs. I can't imagine gripping a rope while my young child would be suspended in the air--probably swaying in the gusty wind. Puffins only lay one egg each year so it is not like there were abundant eggs in the nests But my great-grandfather and his family were hungry, and those eggs would give them some nourishment. Sometimes it was hard to get out to the sea to fish, and eggs were there on the cliff if you wanted to dangle above to fetch them. 

I grew up with these stories of "Foss Farm." Being there brought me a deeper connection to my ancestors--like they were almost there. I closed my eyes, yearning that those people who lived there long ago could be next to me. I wished we could share a cup of cool water together before the sun dipped down for a minute into the sea. I wanted them to show me where they found the puffin eggs and how they survived a Westfjords winter.

Sometimes I think of them and the landscapes of their lives that shaped them. I am sure my great-grandfather would never think his posterity would care that he perilously dangled above the air to grab one puffin egg. But I do. Or, that he would row for three days while the rogue winds and waves tried to blow him to Greenland when he tried to go out to get some fish. But I do. Because my grandmother and father told me the stories. 

Lately, we have not just been telling the stories, but painting the places where they happened. Elias wanted to paint where the other Elias long ago lived. Watching my Elias paint these skies and cliffs this week has made me remember to tell the stories of those who lived in those landscapes long ago. I might not have to swing on a rope to get a single puffin egg, row for days in a blizzard storm off the coast of Iceland, or sail to another country to get food for my community. Yet, I hope we/I can do some hard things too. Somehow, to paint the strokes of a waterfall, not just any waterfall, but the source of your ancestors' life, made us very happy this week. There are many ways to tell the stories of our lives...

What are the landscapes of your life? And how are you going to tell their stories?

Elias Shumway on "Foss Farm" where Elias Vatnsdal was born.


                                                    Looking out to an inlet of the Greenland Sea...

                                                      Wearing Icelandic sweaters--of course...

A very special night to be at Foss Farm

Stuffed puffins you can buy all over Iceland


Not too far from Foss Farm... 

        Looking out the fjord that Eggert Vatnsdal sailed away to bring back food in a near-famine for the community around him. 


                         Peter going up the cliff to taste the water from the same waterfall his ancestors drank from.

   
                                  The glacier water that streams down to the North Atlantic Ocean

                                                                     No one wanted to leave that night...

One of my mottos


Thursday, April 22, 2021

Painting Peace in Pandemic Times in China--new youtube




We are working hard over here in China. Elias just finished an art exhibit at the Tianjin Art Museum, and tonight will have an opening ceremony at a famous gallery here in Tianjin to talk about how to bring art to children with autism and their families. On May 7-24, we will have another one in Beijing--a charity for two autism organizations. All of these exhibits we have been asked to participate in.  We can hardly run fast enough over here. 

The pandemic has brought a new interest in bringing people together to help others here in China. We all have been a cocoon for a long time. Many people want to get involved. Sparks are being lit. I feel it,  People are yearning to reach out to feel the warmth of service over here in China. One of the grand adventures of my life is to see how the fire of creativity grow in others all over this world. 

Monday, March 29, 2021

Elias's art exhibit in Tianjin, China: Documenting Impressions of Joy


This is happening this week here in Tianjin!


For me, a painting is like a story that stimulates the imagination and draws the mind into a place filled with expectation, excitement, wonder, and pleasure. J.P. Hughton, painter

Next week here in Tianjin, China at the Tianjin Art Museum Elias will have another solo exhibit--sharing the space of some of the students we teach at two autism schools here. On April 2 the world will commemorate Autism Awareness Day. As it stretches into the month of April, there will be walks, lectures, buildings lit up, and other activities to promote more understanding of autism. Tianjin will shine paintings on a huge 40 story tower of the paintings of these students. Elias will have 25 paintings and there will be 20 other students who will have one. 

Recently a friend had dinner with the president of the Tianjin Art Museum. She showed him the video we made https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XywYayiimN4 and he asked to see us. He invited us to have an exhibit here. We wish all of you could come. Here are some of the pictures that will be shown:

                                   So happy we have been documenting joy over here...

Seasons of Trees

Hainan, China Ocean View with Shapes


Guilin, China


One of his first prints in Doha called A Red Frog Leaping over the pond

Another early printmaking in Doha called Floating Houses in a Dream


Christmas Tree, 2020--done with a lot of texture with a palette knife


View from the Art Barn in the Tetons, Idaho, USA


Happy Snowman in China


Inner Mongolia Grasslands from the perspective of a ladybug


Singing with the angels


Ziangjiajye National Park--Mountain Cliffs


Swimming Chinese Dragon 


Brazilian Favelas on a mountaintop


Haihe River in Tianjin, China at sunset

Winter Walking with Dad in Sweden


Teton Aspens 


Ocean Layers

Printmaking from Doha, The next three prints are called Views from an airplane





Printmaking from Doha, The Story of the Raven

Printmaking from Doha, The Story of the Raven

Waterlilies in Brazil

Art Barn Light 

Forbidden City Early Morning

Hike at Jenny Lake

Teton Glory

Autumn Puddle

Ocean Cubism

Teton Snake River

Springtime Poppies in Tianjin

Laughing Pandas in Chengdu, China

                                         Teaching art to children with autism here in Tianjin

                                                                Hard at work...