thank God for cell phones!

i dialed his old boston cell number because he said he'd keep it even after their move to china. my youngest brother and his wife (for whom i performed the wedding ceremony last year, if you remember from a previous blog) moved to beijing in late july (early august, maybe). when i heard his voice, a wave of relief and love kept me from saying all of the things i meant to say. i was glad to hear that they landed safely, settled in and were untouched by the storms that ravaged [some parts] of beijing. he laughed and we offered our usual sighs of love and longing for less distance. i suddenly regret all of the drives we didn't take to houston when he lived there and appreciate all of the ones we did.

i last saw him at his going away party in san diego in late june. he sounds well, very well... nearly euphoric in fact, in a way that colors is usual monotonality into various octaves. he tells me the community he lives and works in there doesn't feel much different than his job as a teacher in other parts of this country or the world he'd lived in or visited for internships. (the stints in mexico and the netherlands.) the teachers are from all over the world. (none, save him, are black of course.) ok... rewind... there was one MAJOR difference... the vast difference and pay and respect he enjoys in as a teacher for children of the diplomatic community in china versus his former Teach for America or the boston unified school district teaching positions. there seems very little that he, his wife, or the children they teach, want for. the house they live in is bigger than the two of them need and the house keeper, he says, feels a bit excessive. he says he's been there too short a time, thus far, to accept of reject any of it as it is all still a bit surreal.

he goes on the tell me that beijing has about 3 times the number of people in it, within the same land mass as an overcrowded american city like new york or l.a. twice the number of skyscrapers. an exponetially higher number of bike riders. (he said he circled the shopping mall parking lot for a space to park his bike. REALLY!) and the street vendors... well, i was reminded of trips to tijuana in his telling of it. everything is negotiated/negotiable. people are peddling their wares for whatever they can get. you need a bootleg of maimi vice (yes, the jamie foxx version)? $1! a coach purse? $12! shoes, clothes, watches, purfumes, YOU NAME IT YOU BUY IT CHEAP! as a filmmaker, my political sensibilities want to scold him for even CONSIDERING the purchase of bootleg videos. how am i supposed to survive in an industry where even my family is buying bootleg? but, because television is censored there, they only get 3 channels. (HBO is somehow a lot less interesting with no curse words or partially nude scenes, ya know?) after the first 3 days of "friday the thirteenth" (which apparently is suitable for all audiences at all times of day), how could i blame him?

he finally told me that he also enjoys a bit of celebrity there as a nearly 6 foot tall black man with a large wavy afro. a man recently handed my brother his baby (which would have freaked my brother out) then held up his camera. he and his wife smiled and obliged the man but wondered what international star they might mistake him for. or maybe it was just a marvel to see him walking among them. in some spaces, he says kids smile and point only to have their hands swatted for the disrespect of acknowledging my brother's spectacle. in others, mostly in spaces with jaded by american culture, there are many smiles, secret glances and a quiet reverence for the possibility of celebrity.

i devour each morsel of his new life like popcorn and a bootleg flick. when he runs out of things to say, i update him on my life in this part of america. he likes hearing about the kids and how much they've grown since he saw them last. i really need to send him pictures.

i chop it up with his wife a bit. we laugh lots and agree that shopping helps bridge language barriers and quell homesickness. she has learned more mandarin taxi instructions than my brother has so far and she's proud of that. in the states, he learned spanish faster. (i realize how many languages i take for granted and find myself looking for my "learn spanish" cd. perhaps i will call my haitian friend who forces the french i refuse to speak, out of me. i should be a better equipped global citizen.)

i don't want either of them to stop talking because i realize, as the conversation hems and haws toward its end, how much i miss them. but they are tired and off to be. i am starting my day. we are worlds away. but, thank GOD for cell phones!