(Written by a computer science teacher in China.)

          This week I'll tell you about Beijing's Olympic Games again.  They'll start on August 8th and last until the 24th.  The theme - "One World, One Dream" can be translated into Chinese like this "Tong yi ge shijie tong yige meng".  Beijing is the headquarters for the games and Shanghai, Tianjin, Qingdao, Shenyang, Qinhuangdao, and Hongkong are secondary places.  Sailing will be in Qingdao, equestrian events in Hongkong, and all the other cities will have football.  (It's called soccer in America.)

          Cartoon figures of five children are the mascots for the games.  They are very lovely.  I remember that I sent a picture of them to you a long time ago.

          Beijing is an ancient city.  It had been the capital of five dynasties - Liao, Jin, Yuan, Ming, and Qing.  Their basilica called The Forbidden City is the largest in the world.  There are many things to see in Beijing - the Yihou Park, the Great Wall, SiHe Yard, the Gongking Mansions and many others.  The guidebooks list 200 travel sights, and there are 7300 ancient buildings.

          Shanghai (where I live) is a beautiful, modern city.  There are 56,000 seats in our Palaestra where football will be played.  It's 50 km from the Pudong airport and 20 km from the Hongqiao airport.

          I'll be watching the games on television with my family.  I prefer diving, swimming, and volleyball, but my husband likes football and basketball.  We're expecting to have a wonderful basketball match with the American team, and I think America will win.

(Written by a Chinese/American who formerly taught physics in China)

          My grandchildren live in Shanghai, and I miss them very much, as I only see them about once a year.  When I decided to visit them this year, I took toys and homemade food they were fond of.  The pastry I took is called "nanna's cake" by my granddaughter, and it's one of her favorites.

          I arrived at their home at midnight, and the next morning they went to school and I went to my home so we barely saw each other.  

          We finally got together as we began our trip to Guilin two days later.  At the airport, my granddaughter had wanted me to tell her stories so I told her two very short ones - "A Little Price" and "The Secret Garden".  She liked them, but said that the last one she had heard before; her mother had read it at bedtime.

          When we were in the plane, we talked about this being the year of the rat according to the lunar calendar, and she told me that she had been born during the year of the horse.  She said that she had a lot of horses, as they're her favorite toys, and I told her that I had also been born in the year of the horse, too.

          She was happy that we were both horses according to that calendar, and I counted up to four from the last year of the horse and couldn't believe that was her age.  I asked, "Are you four years old?", and she replied, "No, I'm five. 

          I was confident that I had calculated correctly and told her that I had counted backwards from my present age of 88 and figured out that when I was 84 she was born.

          Her parents told me that I was confused about my age - that I wasn't 88, I was 77.  I thought she was wrong and said, "No, I'm 88."

          My daughter-in-law smiled and repeated that I was 77 and said that subtracting her daughter's age of 5 would mean that I was 72 when she was born. 

          It was shocking to heard that I'd been wrong, and I was quite embarrassed.  I wondered how I'd made the mistakes, but then suddenly remembered that back in America there had been other times when I had thought I was 88.

          During the whole conversation, the children thought I was only joking.

          My granddaughter likes to buy key rings and has a lot of them.  Her mother says that she has become a collector.  While we were in Guilin, we'd take walks after dinner, and each time - regardless of where we went - my granddaughter would buy them - sometimes two or three.

          One day when she and I were out walking again, I said to her, "You are fortunate to have so many toys.  I had none in my childhood."  I added that her parents were very generous, but my parents had refused to spend money to buy such things.  Children just didn't have as many toys then.  She started to think that my parents must have been poor and said she would give me some money when we got back to Shanghai for she had a lot of it.  That brought tears to my eyes, and I hugged her tightly - told her how much I loved her.

          The day before I left Shanghai, she played on her scooter in the garden of the apartment building for awhile, and when she came inside, she told me about her school life and her friends.  She's in an international pre-school program, and I asked if she spoke English there, as she only uses Chinese at home.  She said that she speaks English so I asked her how to say "flowers", "trees", and various parts of the body.  She had no trouble doing that and told me that communication with her classmates wasn't a problem.  I was pleased that she was becoming so fluent in English.

          We talked about a lot of things.  When she said "one foot", I asked how many she had, and when she responded by saying "two foots", I said "You have two feet".  She didn't think that was right and looked suspiciously at me.  I said that "feet" was a very special word and that she could ask her teacher about it.  She still looked confused, so I told her that I was once a teacher, but that I'd taught students much older than her classmates.  She was interested in hearing stories about them, and we talked for a long time.  Even though she didn't fully understand about high school and how I'd taught there, she was very proud of her grandma.

          My grandson is 8 years old and had his first Holy Communion while I was there.  It was on a Sunday in May, and there were 40 children in the church.  Most of the boys were dressed in black suits and each girl wore a white dress with a veil. 

          My grandson is quite grown up now.  He looks like a little man.  His parents, grandparents, and I were happy to attend that special Mass.  It was also my birthday, but our celebration was for him.

          One of the afternoons I visited there, my grandson played a guitar for me.  I wa surprised and happy that he had made so much progress.  He said that he liked playing it and when his teacher came, he worked seriously with him.

          That night he wanted to know how to play Scrabble, a game I'd given him, and I explained the rues.  I also told him that I hadn't given him Lego because he already had lots of them and now that he was grown up he could learn to spell better by using Scrabble.  He agreed with my opinion and then showed me some of his homework.  That gave me a chance to read some of the stories he'd written, and see some of his drawings.  He has an active imagination - just like his father.

          I'm proud of my grandchildren and happy that their parents are providing them with such a good education.

          Time flies so quickly.  I was in Shanghai only one month; much too short a time, but when I left, I carried their happy faces in my mind back to Portland.  

(Written by a former resident of Shanghai who now lives in Portland, Oregon)

          I decided to return to Shanghai in April, and the news spread quickly among my relatives and friends.  They were all informed that I would be visiting with my son's family in Guilin first and would then see them in May.

          Before I left Portland, I got the bad news that my good friend Yao had just died, and I was very sad that I hadn't returned earlier.  I had known she had cancer, and I couldn't help thinking that it was fortunate that my sister and brothers were all in good health.

          The last two days of our visit in Guilin I didn't travel with my son and his family but stayed alone in the hotel, as I was very tired and had a slight fever.  When we got back to my home in Shanghai, my eyes were filled with mucus, and I had a very sore throat.  I still went to church the next day, as I wanted to meet one of my friends there and have lunch with her.

          I found that I was having pain in both eyes.  It was very uncomfortable, but I decided to go to my brother's home, as I'd be able to get his granddaughter to solve some problems I was having with my computer.

          When they saw my red eyes - filled with secretions - and could hardly hear my voice, my brother suggested that I should visit a doctor immediately.  My nephew accompanied me to the hospital later that night.

          My son insisted that I live with his family so that I'd be taken care of, but I declined.  I didn't want to infect anyone with cough and the problems I was having with my eyes.  His wife brought a lot of food to my apartment when she visited, and my friend was there to cook for me.  I was very tired.  All I wanted to do was sleep.

          As I was having those problems, I couldn't visit my sister.  Our get-together was postponed until the following Monday, but on Friday I suddenly got a call from my sister's son informing me that she had died that morning.  The funeral would be held at noon on Sunday.

          I almost fainted when I heard that unexpected news and was surprised that my brother hadn't told me of her sickness.  When I talked with him about it, he said that she hadn't wanted me to know even though she was anxious to see me.  She thought I'd see her in April when I arrived.  How I regretted that I'd postponed my visit with her.  

          As my sister was much older and didn't live with the family when I was growing up, I can remember only five times when we had  conversations though I've always thought of us as being close friends.  When we got-together, I'd always wanted to talk about the histories of our parents and the family, and now that she has left us, that information is no longer available.

          Her son heard how hoarse I was and said that I didn't need to go to the funeral home.  I was quick to agree with that, as I had sworn when my husband died that I would never go to one again.  I did, however, go to her funeral.

          My sister had two daughters and they were also there with one of my sister's sons who brought his family and the wife and children of another son who had died a long time ago.  All of the members of those families came from Beijing and Nanjing.  I had met the two daughters about 50 years ago, but I met the sons' wives and the grandchildren for the first time.  We all talked together before the service began.

          My sister's son said a few words during the service about things that had happened in her life and how much she had been loved by all the relatives.  There wasn't a funereal atmosphere that day - no sobs, no tears.  That's very common when someone has led such a long life, and my sister was 93 years old when she died. 

          It's a tradition in China to use white and black as the colors for funerals in China.  An exception is made, however, when one has had a long life so the room was decorated in red because it was considered to be a joyous occasion.

          At the end of the service, the usual procedure is for the members of the family to watch as the body of the deceased is removed for burning, but in this case, all of us surrounded the casket in which she was lying and her sons and grandsons used nails to seal it.  Both the coffin and my sister would be consumed by fire, and I guessed that she would have been happy to know that a coffin was used.  One hadn't been used when my mother died.

          When we left the funeral home, everybody crossed over a pile of burning paper.  I didn't understand what we were doing, but had to follow the other relatives.  My niece explained that it was one of the traditional activities after a funeral, but I hadn't been in agreement with it.  The service had been very satisfying, as we'd all had an opportunity to say our final goodbyes.  Moving backward into superstitions seemed pointless.

          I feel strongly that society should always continue to move forward.