Zero

We don't know her name yet, so for now we call her Zero. I forget why it's clever, but it's become her. That name fits her now not because of what it means but because as we got to know her, that is what we called her and now no other name will do.

I don't enjoy the company of children. Usually if presented with a child, you can see me going the opposite direction. Ryana, my niece, has been the one exception. I love that little girl. I'm sure it's because she's connected to me, but I like to think it's also because she' s going to turn out to be a stellar chick, and that it's showing already. Most children are an annoyance, but she's not just a child; she's my Ryana, my niece, and because she is, she can never just be a child to me.

This new found love of Ryana (who happens to be a child who happens to be wearing a superman shirt- so cool) has not colored my view of the rest of the small people the world over. I still find children to be annoying and opt to stay as far from them as possible. I suppose if Mariah continued to have more children, there might possibly be more children I like, but I like to think Ryana is special.

Zero rarely speaks, and when she does, it's in Chinese, so it's not as though we've had many palavers. That's not it at all. Zero comes from "Mecca" which is the name we've given to the Muslim restaurant down the street from us. There's another Mecca restaurant over by the ZhuYuan market that we used to go to all the time when we still lived near the stadium. We fell in love with that place. They serve great lamb, awesome lamb noodle soup and chopped fried bread called Chong Yo Bing. All over the walls are pictures of Mecca, hence the name. The family that owns it and works it are all Muslim Chinese, and yes, they are all family. It was a great experience going there and just watching them make the noodles. They make the noodles fresh and by hand, first throwing down a huge mound of the stuff and then punching it rolling it and punching and rolling it until it's workable enough to start taking it in portions and making noodles out of it by holding it at both ends and spinning it to thin the ropes of noodles, bending it in half, spinning it again and so on until they have one long thin noodle. These guys have serious muscle on them and it's clearly hard work. They're not bulky; they’re just strong.

When you order your food, you usually have to wait for them to actually make the noodles before they make the lamb noodle soup, but it was never something I wanted to rush. I loved watching them make the noodles. At the first Mecca two brothers would work at the noodles together, kneading it, punching it, rolling it, both working together in perfect balance with each other. They were never in each other's way...none of them were. They were a working machine.

When we moved over to HongjixiLu, we were happy to find that just down the block there was another Mecca run by another smaller Muslim Chinese family. I've come to respect this family. We live right down the street, so we're either eating there or walking past them to go somewhere else, so I generally see them every day, and they're always there, night and day. You can even be sure to see Zero despite the hour. Yesterday she was out running with her older brothers picking fresh mangoes from the street mango trees at 3 in the morning.

I'm not sure why I admire this family, but I do. Maybe it's because they always seem to be happy. Even when they don't notice me walking by, I can see the father laughing as he plays Chinese chess with some of the other vendors on the street. I see the little girl running about trying on all her new faces; first stern, walking with a serious gait, her hand on her hip, shooting you the evil eye over her shoulder, then the curious smile, then she sticks her tongue out at you and then it's all cartoonishly large smiles and strange faces from there on out. The mother is usually smiling, though sometimes I see her give a watchful almost cautious eye at her children, and the son (who is probably in his early 20s) is usually simply beaming. He's the noodle maker at this shop and he has the same strong arms.
It's a simple life they have, and I know it's nothing I would want, but I admire it. They live above the restaurant, though there's never a time when you see them all up there; only one or two at a time with the rest still tending to the shop. They're wonderful people, extremely kind, very patient with Andy's and Doc's poor Chinese and very supportive and patient with my developing Chinese.

Last week they asked if they could take these pictures with me, which was a really nice moment for me. (they're camera date seems to be a little off, but I assure you it was just last week). I've had lots of people ask to take pictures with me here but it's usually when they first met me, making it a very "Look at me with the GuiMei"picture. This was different. It felt like they wanted to remember me, and I was happy to help.

In return, I gave Zero the puppy purse in the first picture, which she still hasn't given a name to despite my insistence to (but I'm happy to say is already well loved with dirty little paws and a wrinkled strap). I put a box of crayons inside the purse for her, and tonight she promised me that she'd draw me a picture and give it to me tomorrow. (I can speak enough Chinese to get Children to draw for me)

Zero comes from this family, from this wonderfully happy, hard working respectable family, and she's the center of it because she's the newest member, and they're all working to make sure she continues the trend of a happy hardworking respectable family. I think this is why Zero has hit my number two. It's very stange for me, and worth writing down. I'm picky about the people I have around me and have very few friends because of how I value and weigh a good friendship. That this family with their little crazy daughter, Zero, has entered my circle, is a rare and interesting turn of events.

I promise tomorrow I'll get all their names. I'm learning but it's hard to remember Chinese names. It's surprising that I even remember KaoJunHai's, but I'll talk about him later.

No, mom, I haven't changed; I still have a strict "no procreating" policy for myself. Sorry, I'm sure this blog gave you hope, but just because I've found a couple of children I like, doesn't mean I want to start making my own.

Mecca dad, son and Zero outside of Mecca. You can't tell how strong the sons arms are in this picture, but I swear to it, they're lean and strong.

Mecca dad, me and Zero with one of her crazy
smiles.