A couple of days before this post was published, I transferred my dog Fu to her new foster family. It was a big decision, given that I had been taking care of her since September 2018 and we had already grown close to each other.

Fu was just the latest one to whom I said, “Kita kits” (“see you soon” in Filipino). Just this spring, I said zàijiàn to a couple of close colleagues who went on to new adventures in Beijing or back home.

See you soon, Fu!

And now, I’m the one who’s leaving.

It’s a sad moment, especially for the people with whom I worked directly, but I like to see this as a celebration. I’ve worked for beijingkids for 2.5 years, and it was all grand and action-packed. I have long forced into my mind that Andy is timid, but my work for the magazine has allowed me to explore the confident and communicator Andy. I may have flunked in my first managerial experience in Manila, but my career in Beijing has brought out a pragmatic but compassionate leader who’s always looking forward to motivating young minds.

I will always be proud that I handled the very demanding When I Grow Up column in the magazine. Not only does it requires precision in planning and coordinating, but also care as I need to work with a lot of pupils. During the times I conducted bimonthly question-and-answer sessions at various international schools, I’ve seen how pure and simple the pupils’ concept of the world is. And that was refreshing, given the dizzying pace of expat life in the capital had brought me to bumpy parts of the path toward achieving my goals.

Many of those road bumps derailed me, but the other humps have nudged me to stay on track. Never did I think that rescuing an old, limping, visually-impaired dog would eventually help me recover from anxious states of mind that had begun in the summer. And immersing myself into tons of events was stressful at first, but would prove rewarding later on.

You’ll find blessing and healing in the most unexpected part of your journey.

There are many things in my daily grind that I will miss (like being the first person to open the office every day…) and I know it will take time to sink in, but I’m excited about what happens next. Yes, let’s acknowledge that sadness is a significant emotion when someone departs, and departures are a normal process in life. But by accepting reality, we set ourselves free.

After all, “there’s no way to go but forward and upward.” That’s what I told myself before I left for China. And it’s the same thing I’m telling myself now that I’m setting out for a new and thrilling journey.

Photos: Andy Penafuerte III

As this is published I will be frantically running around trying to sort out last-minute arrangements for our move. We are leaving Beijing after three years here, and now we’re in our final week. Amidst the chaos, I have tried to find a moment to reflect on how it feels to be heading out.

I won’t deny there is a sense of relief. Once the decision was made, there was a seemingly interminable limbo period where it wasn’t worth starting anything new, but as everything else wound down there was nothing left but waiting. There are aspects of Beijing life I won’t miss; the pollution bothers me less than it does other people, but the choking traffic, and the length of time it takes to get anywhere, do get me down.

Some people when they arrive here already know they’re here for the long haul, others that they’re only staying for a fixed period. We came with no clear vision of our future. We’d never set foot in China before and had no idea what lay ahead of us.

We’ve stayed longer than we originally planned, and we’re not going home yet, not until the UK returns to some sort of sanity. We’ll be staying in China, which will let me stay in my wonderful job, and the kids embed their already excellent Mandarin. But it’s still a significant move, over 700 miles, to a different climate and a different lifestyle.

This nomad existence brings with it emotional costs… many people I grew close to in my first year here are already gone, and there are other friends I am only just getting to know properly as we are about to leave ourselves. Even my older son’s best friends are scattering, one now in Malaysia, another about to return to the US.

It’s tough on kids to have to make friends over and over again in new places, at new schools. I take comfort in the fact that, of the many people I’ve discussed this with, hardly anybody is still in touch with a friend from elementary school. Lifelong bonds, it seems, begin to form from high school onwards. Besides, kids now have social media and can maintain important friendships across continents more easily.

But it’s exciting to make a new start, away from the wearyingly familiar and the daily grind. It will be an opportunity, particularly for the kids, to reinvent themselves and leave bad habits and toxic relationships behind. We’ll be living by the sea, and will be able to make day trips to the beach.

We’ve signed up for two years. After that, who knows? Maybe we’ll settle there, maybe move on again. As a wise woman once said: “Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see.

“Que sera, sera.”

Photo: Uni You

“So are you staying or going?” It’s a seasonal question, one that pops up each year. If you have walked the expat trail you may recognize the familiar routine. As spring gives way to summer we stop initiating conversations about the air quality and traffic and become curious about who is leaving their posting. It seems this year there are moves afoot everywhere I look. Friends that I’ve come to rely on, those with which there’s the ease of the drop in call, the last minute plans. The unavoidable truth that friends will come and go is all part of the expat routine. This past weekend I attended the first of the departure season leaving parties.

The departure season starts buoyantly, and the first leaving dos are always well attended. Friends and acquaintances write cards, print off photos, compile memento albums, and give generously to the collection. The sad fact is that later on in the summer term, you can find yourself emotionally depleted by too many farewells. There is no solution to this. You just have to pick yourself back up, attend that next party, and remember that one day it will be you that is leaving. It really is important, for both those staying behind and those moving on, that a proper farewell is had.

This revolving door scenario has always been part of expat life, but I still struggle with the whole concept. New friends, of course, come along, and paths will cross again with those that have left. While some goodbyes may only be temporary goodbyes, experiencing the departure of friends does not get easier with repetition. In fact it can simply make it tougher. Almost all expats speak of reaching departure fatigue at some point, which can get in the way of forming new bonds with new arrivals. Some of the first questions an expat will ask another, is “when did you arrive?” and “how long do you think you’ll be here for?” This mindset can get in the way of forming new friendships, you’re always thinking about which one of you will be the first to leave.

This is my fifth year in Beijing, so I have plenty of experience in being “the expat left behind”. Of course you’re excited for your friends that are leaving, but you also feel bereft that your life is going to be different too without them. Whatever you do, don’t make the person feel guilty about leaving. No matter how upset you are, don’t make them feel bad that they are heading off on a new adventure. By all means, give yourself a bit of time to feel bad about it, but it’s better to cherish the time you had with them. No one can replace people’s places in our lives, but there is certainly room enough to let in other great people.

The expat experience is such that people are always coming and going. The temporariness and the challenge of this situation is part of what accelerates the friendship creation and in a way make it so special. So when I’m going through yet another departure season, I try and remember that goodbyes don’t have to be permanent unless you want them to be.

beijingkids Shunyi Correspondent Sally Wilson moved to Beijing in 2010 from the UK with her husband and son. Her daughter was born here in 2011 and both her kids keep her happily busy. In her spare time, Sally loves to stroll through Beijing’s hutongs and parks. She is a (most of the time) keen runner and loves reading: books, magazines, news, and celeb websites – anything really. Sally is also a bit of a foodie and loves trying out new restaurants.

Photos: Peter Kaminski, Debra Bruno, IK’s World Trip (Flickr)

Remember the weary day you dragged the kids off that dreaded long-haul flight and tumbled headlong and wide-eyed into the capital of China? Probably all too well. Whether you’ve just arrived or are about to leave Beijing, have fallen in love with the city or are aching for home shores, there is one thing for certain: Living in Beijing is a completely unique experience, one that passes far too quickly, especially for youngsters.

Preserve and celebrate your child’s time in Beijing by using these simple, whimsical memory-keeping ideas. These projects are fast and easy but will be treasured for a lifetime, and all are perfect farewell gifts for friends leaving Beijing.

Visual Journals

This idea is particularly good for older kids. The journal can be used for any subject – travel, a school trip, special experiences and events. If your child is a diary-writer, it could simply be a daily account of Beijing life.

Using a spiral-bound journal, gather together bits and pieces: tickets, postcards, stickers, letters, invitations, photos and other memorabilia. Kids can paste them into the journal and title each page, adding their own drawings, designs and thoughts.

Have your child decorate the front of the journal or wrap it in Chinese wrapping paper, using double-sided tape.

Scrap Book

For younger and older kids alike, this scrapbook idea is also perfect for the family in general. Using a large scrapbook, have your children create a title page – perhaps “Our China Adventure” or “My Life in Beijing” or “A Mandarin Odyssey.” Decorate the exterior or wrap it in Chinese paper.

A scrapbook is really just that: a book for scrapping and storing of memorabilia. Paste in anything and everything that will lie flat, including photos, and don’t be afraid to layer your pages. You can label certain pages if you like or just periodically record the date as you go. Have kids contribute to this book regularly and watch it grow fat with priceless memories.

Friendship Book

Just like a visitor’s book in the doorway of a country manor, this allows kids to revisit their friendships when they return home to ‘real’ life.

Use a small book, title it and have the kids decorate the cover. Have them collect mementos from their friends to paste inside – notes, cards and photos work perfectly. They can also have their friends write messages and autograph the inside.

Another idea is to catalogue friendships by entering friends in the book, bio-style. Add photos, stories of fun times together, drawings, descriptions of friends and a list of their favorite things.

Some ideas for a friend’s bio page:
My friend:
Age:
Nationality:
Favorite color:
Favorite food:
Favorite thing about Beijing:

Window Box

All you need for this 3D project is your memorabilia and a deep picture frame (available at IKEA, or you can have one made at a framer’s shop).

Print off a photo of your child. You can cover the entire background of the frame with their picture, or you can crop it and add your own clip art and text around the photo using decorative paper or even your childís artwork. You can also add clip art to the inside of the glass for a real 3D effect.

Once the background and photo are in place, allow your child to add their own mementos, toys or souvenirs to the front of the picture, layering them for visual interest.

These frames are great because the memento can be changed around. You could do one for each season of the child’s first year in Beijing ñ kicking amber autumn leaves, skating on Houhai, sniffing pink blossoms and running through a water fountain. You could also do several of their favorite Beijing places.

Concertina Cards

These cards are quick and easy and make for great gifts. From a large piece of cardstock (available at markets and art supply stores), cut a long strip at least 12cm wide. Fold into a concertina strip, making a sharp crease along the edges. If desired, you can trim the card into a circle or give it rounded corners.

Kids can put a title on their card and then paste in photos of their favorite Beijing places, things, events, pastimes, friends or even travels. Use colored paper, stickers, red tassels, hongbao and other flat decorations. You can also print off quotes to paste in, or have your child write in it, adding their own personal touch.

Fast Photo Books

Make quick and easy photo books that kids can use as brag books or as an excuse to revisit their memories. They can be photos of school events, travels, parties – the list is endless.

Pile a stack of photos on top of each other and cut two pieces of card to serve as a front and back cover. All photos and card must be exactly the same size. Line up the left-hand edges so they are perfectly aligned and clamp the photos together with bulldog (aka binder) clips. Brush this left-hand edge of the photos with a thick layer of craft glue and allow to dry for at least eight hours. Undo clips and decorate your front cover with a title, stickers and other embellishments.

Memory Picture

Print a large (at least 20x25cm) black-and-white picture of a Beijing street scene – the hutongs in summer, Houhai lake in winter, the Great Wall or your child’s favorite place. You could also print one of your child’s special interests.

Using a color photo of your child, cut out their head and hair neatly. Their face itself should measure at least 4x4cm.

Now think about the ‘body’ you can use for your child. Is your child into sports? Are they a dancer? Do they like to hike? Decide on your theme and scour the Internet for pictures (preferably drawings, artwork or clipart) that you can print off and cut out.

Glue the body and face of your child onto stiff cardboard and cut out carefully. Using double-sided thick foam tape (available at local markets), place your child into their Beijing scene. The tape raises your child up against the black-and-white photograph, giving them a fantastic 3D effect.

Take your finished picture to a framer and have it matted and framed simply. This makes a unique and very special memento of your child for many years to come.

This article was originally posted on beijingkids.com on January 15, 2008

Today I had an epiphany. I am moving. Now before you all join in a chorus of “Duh!,”  let me explain. As you know, I’ve been carefully planning this move for months. Over the last several weeks, I have been completely absorbed in the details required to get our family from Beijing to Shanghai. This has become almost a full-time job, characterized by ridiculously long to-do lists, endless sorting, purging, and packing, a plethora of errands, and myriad other small, but vital tasks.

In my quest to manage the logistics, keep the children happy, juggle an increasingly full calendar of events, and encourage my husband to focus less on our summer plans and more on our leaving Beijing needs, I somehow forgot to think about myself. I’m not a selfless person by nature, so this is a surprising realization. In fact, the older I get, the more often I tend to take time for real introspection.

I was raised by a mother who gave and gives of herself unceasingly. And, while I and my siblings and our neighbors and friends benefited from this, sometimes she suffered. So, I have learned from her to be generous and give what I can and even sometimes to give a little bit more. But, from my mother I have also learned the importance of keeping oneself healthy and emotionally balanced and with enough left in the tank to get through the inevitable rough patches or just the demands of everyday life.

Consequently, I was surprised this week to suddenly find myself feeling, well, sad. I’m moving, I thought. I’m moving.

I’m leaving behind my home and friends and routine.  I’m leaving the identity that I have forged, sometimes deliberately, sometimes inadvertently, in this corner of the world.

I’m abandoning the familiar in favor of the unknown. All the things that have become easy and normal will soon be hard and new, again.

I’ll have to make new friends and vet the children’s friends, again.

I’ll have to search for places to buy vegetables and shoes and stickers and tennis balls, again. I’ll have to find a new piano teacher, swim instructor, soccer coach, fabric store, flower market, pizza place, park, and favorite family restaurant, again.

I’ll have to be the family cheerleader, as usual, again. I started to feel overwhelmed.

I’m a pragmatist, some might even say a cynic. I focus on controlling what I can, and dealing with the rest as realistically as possible. I don’t believe in pretending that things aren’t happening, but I also don’t believe in wallowing when wallowing accomplishes nothing.

I’m capable and strong and resourceful and resilient. I’m smart and tenacious. I’m funny and good in a crisis. I’m not good at asking for help or sharing my emotions. I’m better at assessing a situation and responding to it.

I’m not especially good at anything, but I am really good at getting the job done.

This is how I have approached this move. I have focused on what needs doing and I have done it. I’ve had so many offers of help from friends and I have said, consistently, thanks for the offer, but we’re in good shape.

And, truthfully, in terms of the move, we are in good shape. At this point, I’m not panicking, I’m not worried, I can see the end and I know we’ll be ready.

But, will I be ready? Will I have enough time between now and getting on the plane and leaving Beijing for the last time, to get ready?

I didn’t build in time for that in my careful planning. I didn’t think about how I would feel.  I didn’t worry about my emotions or my needs. I’m the architect of our life, I’m the foreman, I’m the conductor. I’m the mom. I’m supposed to be ready, always. I’m supposed to smile and encourage and keep everyone moving in the right direction. That’s what I do. I like doing it and I’m good at it.

This time, however, I’m feeling a little less enthusiastic and a little more nostalgic. So, while we’re in good shape and I don’t need any help with the move, I do need some help. I need to be reminded to take a minute to focus on the joy that being here has brought me and remember that I have done this before, successfully.

I need to be told that friends and routine are not bound by geography. That our life, my life, will become familiar again. I need to go to lunch and get pedicures and spend time with my friends. I need help remembering that it is okay to be sad, healthy even, and that I’m not the only one feeling this way. I need to say, “I’ll miss you,” and hear that I’ll be missed, because I know saying and hearing that will make it easier to go.

You can find more of Linsey’s writing on her blog, Rambles and Ruminations.

Photo: Courtesy of Linsey Crisler

I’ve written before about making international wire transfers with the help of a Chinese national, but recently I’ve been researching other ways to do this since I’m leaving China soon.

I read on a few blogs that foreigners can bypass the USD 500 per day limit for international wire transfers as long as they demonstrate proof of having paid taxes while legitimately employed here. In addition, the total amount of the transfer can’t exceed the value of the applicant’s annual post-tax salary.

My HR department confirmed that this was the case after a phone call to the Tax Bureau. In order to make the wire transfer, the employee must obtain an official “tax clearance certificate”(完税证明 wánshuì zhèngmíng) from the Tax Bureau proving that taxes were deducted from their monthly salary.

First off, not every person will need to visit the same Tax Bureau. From what I understand, this is tied to each company’s location and registration – details that flew way over my head and aren’t required knowledge anyway.

For example, I had to visit the Shichahai Tax Bureau while a British friend who used to work in the CBD had to visit the Shuangjing Tax Bureau. Check with your company’s HR or Finance department if you’re unsure.

According to the Shichahai Tax Bureau, I had to bring my passport and a copy of the company’s “tax registration booklet” (税务登记副本 shuìwù dēngjì fùběn). Thankfully, the company opted to send a Finance colleague with me in case any language barriers arose; she brought the original instead.

I highly recommend getting someone from HR or Finance to accompany you; the visit was…shambolic, to say the least.

The Shichahai Tax Bureau itself was located behind nondescript gray doors on Deshengmen Neidajie. Though the post-lunch opening hours were listed as starting from 1.30pm, an employee didn’t show up until 2pm. Luckily, it was very quiet.

When someone did show up, they barked at us and asked what we wanted. The woman at the front desk made a fuss about the fact that I had a foreign passport. When my Finance colleague didn’t promptly answer one of her questions, she yelled at her in Chinese: “Why did you even come with her [meaning me]? You don’t seem to know anything!”

Finally, she directed us to a Mr. Zhang Lei, a soft-spoken man in spectacles who led us into the back office to look up my tax records. He left us with two employees who alternated being good cop and bad cop; one irritably shouted questions at us while the other asked me questions about Canada and how my Chinese got so good (as an overseas Chinese, being complimented on my accented Mandarin was a first).

At first, they couldn’t find my tax records from the past two years – the maximum period of time allowable – in the system. “Ah $%#@,” I thought.

However, since I’d brought both my old and current passports, the good cop had the clever idea of inputting my old passport number for the search. Bingo – records from 2014 and 2015 showed up. It turns out my company had never updated my passport number for tax filings when I changed it in 2012. Mistake number one.

In addition, the tax filings were for some reason listed under my Chinese name instead of the English name on my passport. Mistake number two. Luckily, the Tax Bureau accepted to print out my tax records anyway, but I could see this potentially being a problem for other people.

For some reason, the Tax Bureau couldn’t find my detailed tax records for 2016 even though my company confirmed they’d been filed monthly. After a quick search, Mr. Zhang confirmed that taxes were deducted from my salary in 2016 so far, but the Tax Bureau couldn’t print out the itemized records the same way they could for 2014 and 2015.

“Don’t worry,” said the good cop. “I’m pretty sure you’ll still be able to make the money transfer at the bank.”

Both the good cop and the bad cop warmed to us as the visit went on. Before the tax certificate was released, we had to fill out a form in Chinese (my colleague helped me do it), which I then signed and gave them for their records. In addition, they photocopied my old and new passports’ photo pages and had me sign and date each one.

Upon my request, the Tax Bureau printed out two copies of the tax certificate instead of one and neatly put them into official envelopes. Basically, the certificate listed line by line my monthly salary and tax amount deducted from each month for the past two years.

In total, the entire process took about an hour; I imagine it’d be much shorter for someone whose taxes were filed under the correct name and passport number.

My takeaways from the visit?

• Have someone call the Tax Bureau beforehand to ask which documents are needed. What’s true for the Shichahai Tax Bureau may not be true for another branch.
• Make sure a Chinese-speaking colleague from HR or Finance goes with you. Despite my advanced Mandarin, the experience was still pretty shouty and confusing. In addition, there’s some writing in Chinese that needs to be done (e.g. filling out a form).
• If you’ve recently changed your passport, ensure that the new passport number is updated in all your employee files and tax files made by your company. This can save you considerable mafan down the line.
• When in doubt, bring any extra documents you think might come in handy: old and new employment contracts, old and new passports, etc. You never know! I almost didn’t bring my old passport.

Next week, I’ll be visiting the bank to attempt to make the money transfer – more on that later. Fingers crossed!

Sijia Chen is a contributing editor at beijingkids and a freelance writer specializing in parenting, education, travel, environment, and culture. Her work has appeared in Travel + Leisure, The Independent, Midnight Poutine, Rover Arts, and more. Follow her on Twitter at @sijiawrites or email her at sijiachen@beijing-kids.com.

Prepping With Fun
As I mentioned in my last post, in preparation for our departure from Beijing, we’ve asked our three children to each think of three things they want to do before we leave. Their thoughts have ranged from one final feast at Xiang Man Lou, a sleepover with twenty or so of their best friends, to a last visit to the baozi place on the corner we have grown to love. Not surprisingly, their wants have a common theme, good friends and good food.

I’m not a parenting expert by any means, but I have mothering for over a decade and know my own kids pretty well. Consequently, I know this move is going to be hard on them. They have each grown so much here and really begun to forge their unique identities. They have made great friends and are starting to view the world through their respective lenses. They will each approach this move in a slightly different way.

Right now, it is all excitement and anticipation. Our conversations are dominated with talk of end of school year events, of which there is an endless stream, summer holiday plans, and parties, lots and lots of parties. I’ve been thinking about the overall plans, the minutiae, and the logistics involved with a major relocation for months, but the children haven’t really been involved in those discussions, not yet. However, reality is going to hit soon, and I expect it will be a bit of a bumpy landing.

Prepping for Each Individual Reaction
My oldest is a perfectionist. He likes to be in control. He likes to have information. He is not sentimental by nature, but his nature will be tested when it comes time to cull his possessions and say his goodbyes. We have already begun discussing with him what comes next and what it will take to get from here to there. He probably isn’t aware of it, but his subconscious is absorbing all these details, putting him in a better position to cope with the imminent changes, at least I hope so.

Our middle child is much more tender and prone to sentimentality. He doesn’t love change, not in the way I do, so I am trying to be particularly sensitive to that aspect of his personality. This move will be hardest for him. Although he is the most easy-going of all of us, he is also a creature of habit.

His world is about to be turned upside-down, and though we will try to ease him into it, there is only so much mitigating we can do. He’ll be sad, but we’re ready with pep talks and hugs and a long list of things to look forward to.  Once we arrive at our new destination, he’ll immediately begin the process of carving out a space where he can exist comfortably, at least until the next time.

My daughter is going to be the most dramatic and vocal. The final goodbyes with our beloved Ayi will be torturous, for all of us, but particularly for her. But, like most little children, with time and distance, the acuteness of the event will wane. She’ll find new distractions and people upon whom she can shower her devotion and affection.

She’ll forget about the princess kitchen that didn’t make the cut or the endless art supplies we’re leaving behind. She won’t remember the hundreds of drawings she insisted we keep forever, as long as we keep a few. She’ll hold our hands a little tighter and put up a pretense of timidity, but eventually, she’ll find her way through and will begin smiling and skipping through life, just like always.

Big change is a fact of our lives.
My husband and I are good at change. We’ve had years of practice and we have the benefit of pragmatism and hindsight. The kids, however, are still figuring it all out. A friend moving away feels very final. It isn’t, and often we have and will see those friends again, but their realities are much shorter than ours and far less nuanced. They are more inclined to live in the moment, so we try to make these big changes more about a series of little moments; therefore, hopefully less momentous.

We take things one step at a time and try to give them as much ownership and control as possible. Hence, the list of three things they made. We keep them busy and distracted, but also make time to really listen to them, to their fears, concerns, and hopes. This is their life, too, and they need to feel like their opinions matter, because, of course, more than anything else, they do.

Photo: Courtesy of Linsey Crisler

I’m not a hoarder by nature. But being an expat for the last 10 years and having coordinated 4 major moves, my views on “stuff” have shifted.

I save things.

If you ask my husband, sometimes I do so inexplicably. I save Christmas cards, packing supplies, small trinkets, magazines, anything that comes home from school, including an unending stream of what my children insist are artistic masterpieces. I can’t always see the creative genius, but they’d be heartbroken if we didn’t save every one, so I do.

I save containers in various shapes and sizes for, well, container emergencies like, “I need to make a diorama tomorrow,” or “There’s an egg drop competition.” or “Don’t you have a bag the perfect size for my collection of…?” And so on.

I’m also not the most organized person and holding onto things for longer than typical is my way of making sure nothing goes missing. From these revelations it might seem like I really am a hoarder or at least have tendencies in that direction, but I am saved from admitting this to myself by the fact that, every few years, we move and we are allotted a strictly enforced weight limit for our goods.

So we must purge, purge, purge before we leave.

Our next move is just months away. Our three years in Beijing are the longest we’ve ever lived anywhere since we picked up our lives and joined the expat throng and, consequently, our pile of possessions is a lot larger than usual. Mentally, I started the purging process long ago. I’ve thought my way systematically through each room and closet, taking stock of everything we’ve crammed in over the last 36 months and making lists of what can go, what can stay, and what should be sent to storage.

This was an unexpectedly emotional process, but I tried to be rationale, pragmatic, and keep the sentimentality to a manageable level. I thought I was making progress, gearing up for the inevitable sorting and donation runs, and so I shared my brilliant assessments with my husband.

I rattled off the no-brainers first, the items we could not possibly ever need or want again, then moved on to the more subjective areas – outgrown children’s books and games, nostalgia clothing we’ve held onto, but haven’t worn in years, gifts we’ve never used, but can’t seem to part with because they were gifts, and even things I’d prefer to keep if I had the luxury of limitless weight and space.

I glanced at my husband as I neared the end of this list, eager for his approval. But, his eyes were narrowed, his brow furrowed, he was just not in agreement with my carefully crafted plans. He was clearly not pleased. When I took a breath, he swooped in and item by item offered reasons why every single thing I mentioned had to be kept.

I was dumbfounded.

Didn’t he understand how much mental time and energy I had put into this? Didn’t he understand I too loved our things, I the keeper of tins and toilet paper rolls and a devotee of the phrase “just in case?” Did he not appreciate the effort involved in actually getting rid of this stuff in favor of just letting the movers pack up and paying an enormous bill when we went way over our weight limit? I was doing us a favor taking on this mammoth task and saving us money!

He, however, was steadfast in his objections, but I was formidable. I pointed out many of our beloved effects were taking up space and would serve someone else better. I reminded him there are myriad mechanisms available in Beijing for painlessly divesting ourselves of those things we hold dear, but are just excessive.

I convinced him we had more stuff than any family of five needs, and we could be content with less. A LOT LESS! And then I showed him the 6 large garbage bags full of stuff pulled from just my side of the closet in a single afternoon and finally the lights came on. He saw the fruits of my mental calisthenics and miraculously began to purge too.

We’re at the beginning of this process, but we’ve begun. We’ve done our homework and have plans to visit various charities with weekly drop-offs. I’ve got my advertisements ready to post on some online resources, and I’ve noted the dates for our office, school, and church rummage sales and toy drives.

We’re offering first dibs on everything to our Ayi and the other ayis in our building. And, slowly, we’re making headway. I’ll miss some of the things we’re parting with, but many I’ll forget about instantly and wonder why I ever thought we couldn’t live without them.

Except for maybe that one University sweatshirt shoved way back in the corner. That one I might keep, just in case!

6 Resources for Purging:

1. Roundabout
2. Operation Blessing
3. Bethel
4. Lion Club
5. Freecycle Beijing: FreecycleBeijing@yahoogroups.com
6. Beijing Mamas: beijing_mamas@yahoogroups.com

Photo Courtesy: Linsey Crisler

Here in Beijing amazing people are constantly leaving. It’s heartbreaking for those of us left behind. It stands to reason that great families are arriving too – the trouble is we don’t know them yet. The moment I met Katherine at an Embassy House fair, I knew we were supposed to be friends. Exuding style and personality with her short red hair, high-waisted skirt, and little son Hanz propped up on one hip. I was six or seven months pregnant at the time and it was refreshing and inspiring to see such a cool lady rocking motherhood so well. We exchanged digits and became friends, and now, inevitably, she is leaving Beijing (for Bavaria). I asked Katherine to share some of her experience of four and a half years living here with beijingkids. Goodbye Katherine!

I’m an American, and I met my Swiss-German husband here five years ago. I had come for six weeks to work. The weekend before I flew home I went exploring with Beijing Hikers and met a handsome young man: then I had to come back.

Since moving here I’ve gotten married, had a son at BJU, and learned how to be a mother. I have made amazing friends. While I’m excited about our move and having the next piece of my life’s adventure unfold, I’m going to miss China desperately. It drives me crazy, exhausts me, and at the same time I feel more at home here than I have anywhere else in a long time. We expats are all outsiders and the fact that most of us don’t even look like the local population means there’s very little pressure to ‘fit in.’ Through the ever present advice of little old Chinese grandmas, quick to point out when I was screwing things up with my son; for example, in July, “He doesn’t have thick enough pants on!” I recognized that we all do things differently, and despite criticism from well meaning people, I can live my own life.

There is so much in Beijing and China to enrich your life: things to learn, places to see, history to discover, projects to take on, people to meet. If you’re bored and lonely you’re not doing it right. However the pace of life can also be exhausting: figure out a balance between adventure and routine.

Meet the locals, make Chinese friends, and try to understand the local culture: it will be an invaluable aspect of your time here in China. But don’t snub making friends with people who are struggling with the same problems you are, and have probably solved some of them already. Get out there and bump into the truly interesting and inspiring individuals who like you have been drawn to this city, for all sorts of different reasons.

You need your comforts to make Beijing livable, don’t neglect the basics you need to make life work.  In the beginning that meant a suitcase full of powdered ranch dressing and taco sauce, but as I figured out Taobao and localized my needs, that suitcase got lighter and lighter until there wasn’t really much I needed to bring back after Christmas. I invested in a blender and started making my own peanut butter. I don’t like Jiffy, and I only eat the ‘natural’ stuff which at your local expat supermarket, if it’s available, is probably pushing USD 10 . Once I admitted how important a decent PB and J is to my morning routine, and combined a blender and a RMB 10  bag of roasted peanuts my life overseas became, overnight, much more reasonable.

Don’t book your departure flights in the middle of the summer. You’ll be leaving by yourself with all your friends already having left before you on their summer holidays. If you can swing it, leave in the middle of March. Everyone will be back from Christmas/Chinese New Year holidays, and few of your friends will have booked a holiday right after New Year’s.

When you get Beijing fatigue go home for a couple weeks, go to Seoul, go to the grasslands. Find a way to decompress again.

My time in Beijing was rich: full of experiences and great people, but at the same time I only scratched the surface. I am leaving friendships I’ve only just started, for instance with Theresa. It makes it hard to leave and say goodbye, because I have a nagging sense of leaving so much left undone: I’m missing out on what’s coming next.

But, as you are sure to find out, this will always be the case with Beijing.

Theresa Pauline is a yoga teacher, social entrepreneur, momma, wife, and beijingkids contributor. You can find out more about her at www.taozitreeyoga.com

Photos: Katherine