I don’t remember how old I was at this time, but I was pretty small. That’s why I won’t stay on this topic for very long and move on to something else other than going to China when I was like three to five or something.
We came to see the great wall of China. Perhaps they should rename that – the long wall of China. It’s very long. Dad had this backpack when I was little with this pocket in it that I could sit in. I sat perched above Dad’s shoulders being very light and young. It was great for long trips, particularly trekking The Long Wall of China. Do you suppose they were jealous? Its crazy how little kids don’t realise how great it is to sit in a trolley when shopping.
Chinese people would swarm around me because I was this cute little foreign kid. Apparently, some Chinese people have this weird superstition that if you get a photo of a really cute kid and you put it under your pillow, your kid would also be cute. Which doesn’t really make much sense, but all cultures have pretty far-fetched superstitions. We would be randomly pulled over by smiling strangers who wanted to quickly snap a photo with me and giggle and admire. Only my sister outdid my cuteness many years later in China, but that is because she is a blondie. It is kind of strange that she is blond, and some people have a hard time believing that she my sister. I think she got her hair colour from Dad’s side because blond and red hair often go hand-in-hand.
My hair is brown, but I was still pretty cute. Especially when effortlessly sitting in Dad’s backpack high in the air as we slowly climbed the wall.
Mum and Dad got me this “I love you panda”, which is super cute. It is about the size of my palm and has a pink t-shirt. When you squeeze it, it blushes, makes a kissing sound and says, “I love you”. I still have it. Now the t-shirt -which was decorated with complexed Chinese flowers- is worn and you can see the aqua and gold strings underneath it. Her voice is more of a weary cackle and you probably couldn’t make it out, but I know what it says. Her name is Rebecca. I think Rebecca was one of my favourite names because when I was about 7-8 I wrote a story with Rebecca as one of the main characters. Dad used to name my toys. It was like this huge honour and I think he really enjoyed it too.

I don’t remember how old I was at this time, but I was pretty small. That’s why I won’t stay on this topic for very long and move on to something else other than going to China when I was like three to five or something.
We came to see the great wall of China. Perhaps they should rename that – the long wall of China. It’s very long. Dad had this backpack when I was little with this pocket in it that I could sit in. I sat perched above Dad’s shoulders being very light and young. It was great for long trips, particularly trekking The Long Wall of China. Do you suppose they were jealous? Its crazy how little kids don’t realise how great it is to sit in a trolley when shopping.
Chinese people would swarm around me because I was this cute little foreign kid. Apparently, some Chinese people have this weird superstition that if you get a photo of a really cute kid and you put it under your pillow, your kid would also be cute. Which doesn’t really make much sense, but all cultures have pretty far-fetched superstitions. We would be randomly pulled over by smiling strangers who wanted to quickly snap a photo with me and giggle and admire. Only my sister outdid my cuteness many years later in China, but that is because she is a blondie. It is kind of strange that she is blond, and some people have a hard time believing that she my sister. I think she got her hair colour from Dad’s side because blond and red hair often go hand-in-hand.
My hair is brown, but I was still pretty cute. Especially when effortlessly sitting in Dad’s backpack high in the air as we slowly climbed the wall.
Mum and Dad got me this “I love you panda”, which is super cute. It is about the size of my palm and has a pink t-shirt. When you squeeze it, it blushes, makes a kissing sound and says, “I love you”. I still have it. Now the t-shirt -which was decorated with complexed Chinese flowers- is worn and you can see the aqua and gold strings underneath it. Her voice is more of a weary cackle and you probably couldn’t make it out, but I know what it says. Her name is Rebecca. I think Rebecca was one of my favourite names because when I was about 7-8 I wrote a story with Rebecca as one of the main characters. Dad used to name my toys. It was like this huge honour and I think he really enjoyed it too.


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