She came at dinner. Though without Sam, our host and guide, we were left sitting, confused as ever, feeling sorry for this poor lady as she tried exponentially to talk and make her point across to our unilingual-selves. We had already gone through the 1-2-3-4 –oh-wow-5 kids (!) phenomenon, so she couldn’t have thought I was the tour guide to these silly Americans, like so many others have in China. Yet, her flailing hands kept coming back to me. It was a disappointment to both parties as she was left with unintelligible words dripping lifelessly from her mouth and we, with the discomfort that whatever it was she was trying to communicate to us would never be solved. Add that to the growing list as yet another reason why I should really start to learn Chinese. As the charade-like conversation started dwindling and nearing the edge of awkward, we apologetically excused ourselves and exited the hotel restaurant with our thoughts already on to the next thing, leaving behind the staff lady and her esoteric words.
The next morning brought us another encounter. It took a few seconds for me to remember and realize that this was the same person who starred in last nights’ escapade. When I did put two and two together, I was ready to acknowledge the fact that same events were inevitably about to take place. Then, suddenly she turned to Sam and his two good friends, who had joined us on this trip, to talk to them instead. Sitting just opposite, I began to feel a bit self-conscious as their conversation started heating up and indiscreet, widening eyes kept meeting mine. By now, everyone other than me, was standing up and voices took on a very rushed and excited manner. Then the words were all but flung my way:
“She says she recognizes you”
“She worked at your orphanage”
“She took care of you as a baby”
“She remembers you”
“She knows you”
Suddenly I was having a deer in the headlights moment. Was this a joke? Maybe. But they kept repeating it over and over.
In a matter of seconds this “visit to the town where I was born”, this “trip milestone” had completely turned into a dream. Far, far away from reality. This wasn’t supposed to be some whole reunion, emotional, yay-yve’s-back-home crazy rollercoaster. We had no ties to my birth mom / family, we had no luck in contacting the orphanage, we knew nothing about Guiping. We weren’t really sure what we wanted to get out of this visit other than to sightsee. To just walk around the city was perfectly fine with me. “Maybe hike a mountain nearby,” suggested Sam. Finally, Mom came over and saved me from the headlights with her sweet words and incredulous facials.
From there, things seemed to pass in a blur. How could this not be a dream? How did I get here, in this perfect moment in time? I’ll tell you something though; I’m not a lucid dreamer, and I certainly felt like I wasn’t thinking straight. A million thoughts consumed me and the only thing I could properly comprehend was… a smile. I glanced at her again, and this time I didn’t see the lines stretched across her forehead oozing with vexation or the battling way her lips kept twitching, trying to find the right words, however useless, that might penetrate through to us like the night beforehand. Instead, I saw what she had really been trying to say to us in that sluggish means of a dining room. I understood with total clarity.
Completeness in a single smile.
She took the rest of the day off and toured us down (subconscious) memory lane. We visited the ― now revamped ― post office where I was left on its steps, with locals getting a kick out of us taking pictures at a seemingly unimportant local government building. We were then introduced to the lady who found me, freed me of that cardboard box I was left in, and brought me to the orphanage. She was very surprised to see me there in front of her store yet without hesitation, in a made-for-movies moment, she enveloped me in a hug that could quite possibly induce tears to a sob-story fanatic. After our farewell, we were taken to my old orphanage that is no longer in business. And in case you were having doubts that she might have been faking the whole thing and did not actually remember me or have worked in the orphanage (which at some point after everything, did indeed cross my mind) she showed us pictures on her phone of her when she worked in the orphanage and with other girls like me visiting Guiping. To end this dream, we were graciously invited to her house where we swapped emails so we could stay in touch and keep the connection going wherever the world may lead us.
I was adopted at ten months old, which would leave me with no recollection of anything or anyone she showed me. Though, despite the fact that we may be strangers and the difficulty of the language barrier, we communicated in a way that I have never been exposed to and that’s what really touched me. Not the realization that I’m seeing where I came from, but the way we held hands like she was my best friend, sister, caretaker; and the way she looked at me and smiled like I was truly a miracle. Or maybe she looked at me thinking what slackers we were that it took us thirteen years to come and visit ― which she in fact did say, but in a nicer way. Though I am pretty certain she was just glad to see me.
Here is a text that she sent to Sam after we said our goodbyes…thank you Sam for the translation:
“Hello Sam. Thank you very much for bringing me my daughter to Guiping. Even though she is not my real daughter, I tended her when she was little and I took and treated her like my real daughter. Today I couldn’t be more satisfied than just to be able to see her even only for like a second. Thank god we met again after this long time. Hope you can tell her mom (Lisa) that she is a great mom and thank her for raising Yve. Thank you Sam and everyone for giving me this opportunity to meet my daughter again.”
In the end this is what I learned: There is a language within smiles. Within crinkled eyes and softened faces. It’s a language that is deeply rooted in genuine palpability. And hidden behind the vast complexes and double meanings is the simple truth. The truth that when there are no words to be spoken, a smile says it all.
Chen Bin Ying (the lady from the restaurant the night before) explaining to Sam’s friends in the hotel lobby that she knows me
Chen Bin Ying and me in the lobby
Sam and me standing across the street from the post office where I was found as a baby
In front of her shop, meeting the woman who found me at the post office and brought me to the orphanage
Our movie-esque hug !
Sam having some quality “twin time” as we walked around town
Chen Bin Ying and I hand-in-hand as she tours me around Guipnig
This is everyone who came with us to Guiping: Sam, his friend from his basketball team, and his friend’s girlfriend who was also born in Guiping
Our last stop, at Chen Bin Ying’s house where we met her foster daughter (who was from the same orphanage as me)
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