By: Emily Straut
Earlier this year, I had the incredible privilege of taking part in CCAI’s Hunan Province Heritage Tour.
Little kid always asking where I came from…
Parents said “tummy mom” was far far away and that we’d visit someday when I’m older…
Always been in the back of my mind…
This lifelong dream to visit my birth country was beginning to actually happen this time last year. Itinerary, visa applications, packing lists, purchase of some new travel equipment, etc.
The flights there were excruciatingly long.
DAY ONE
On the first day, our local guide for Beijing greeted us and picked us up from the airport, and we traveled seamlessly to our hotel. The hotel was grandiose and beautiful! Lots of window shopping; Alice was very helpful with the currency exchange. My parents and I wandered around the strip of shops across the street that evening and settled at a restaurant that sold kebabs.
DAY TWO
The next day, we woke up bright and early to visit the Great Wall and a nearby Jade factory. The ride to and actual hike of the Great Wall were both wonderful. The pass that we went to (Juyongguan) was quiet and remote. I hiked up a couple of fortresses on my own and wished that I could climb the wall forever. The view was unparalleled and left me in a state of complete awe – the old, old architecture, the mountains that stretched endlessly across the landscape in every direction, and the famed wall that outlined those long stretches of mountains before me. I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and wonder. After taking hundreds of photos, none of which seemed to do the view justice, I traipsed back down the wall towards my parents and our guide.
After we had wandered about the base of the site and poked around in some of the gift shops, we headed back to the car to go to the jade factory and eat lunch. I stared out the window the entire drive, desperately trying to commit every detail of the area, the wall, and our journey to memory. The jade factory was vast and expansive in a manner that mirrored the wall. The jade factory guide was very humorous and accompanied us through the entire store, showcasing their beautiful earrings, pendants, statues, earrings, rings, and figurines and graciously answering question after question we had about all things jade. I bought some earrings but unfortunately lost one of the gemstones somewhere along the rest of my journey. I still have both earrings and proudly display them on my trinket shelf at home. Our lunch was delicious, and there was enough food to feed the city. The wait staff even brought us french fries, which we all thought was quite humorous – it’s funny how people want to make Americans feel at home. They weren’t half bad, actually! After lunch, we made our way back to our hotel. It was only late afternoon, so we had plenty of time to explore the area. My parents and I didn’t want to squander a single minute of our trip, so we wandered along the strip of stores across the hotel. We bought snacks and then continued our walk by visiting some public parks, watching the locals exercise, and puttering around the nearby neighborhoods. We ate dinner at the kebab place across from where we ate when we first arrived and then went to bed early since we anxiously anticipated another busy day.
DAY THREE
On day three, we traveled to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Nobody tells you just how significant these landmarks are, and even if you did know their size, you wouldn’t be able to appreciate their scale until you’re standing in the middle of them. It took hours for us to saunter through the square and the city, marveling at fountains, portraits, grand gates, towering statues, adorned royal quarters, and endless gardens with colossal scholars’ rocks and trees with winding branches.
That evening, we returned to the Beijing airport to fly to Changsha. The flight was relatively short, and I’ll never forget the bright red, neon characters at the gate of the airport terminal that gleamed and greeted us once we landed. Our new local guide, Amy, picked us up and drove through the capital to our hotel. The lampposts and gates that lined the streets were ornamented with big, red, luminous knots. I was, once again, gazing out of the car window in a desperate attempt to commit everything that I was seeing and smelling and hearing and feeling to memory. We got settled at our hotel and promptly went to bed.
DAY FOUR
On day four, we drove about one hour south from Changsha to Zhuzhou, where I was found and lived for the first eight months of my life. I had anticipated this trip my entire life but wasn’t sure what to make of it or do with myself when it was happening. My mom kept asking if I was okay throughout our drive to Zhuzhou, and I kept assuring her I was. We arrived at the Zhuzhou Children Social Welfare Institute and were greeted by the director and several other employees. On the left wall near the entrance was a massive board of pictures and names of current caregivers at the institute. My mom scanned it and very quickly identified the woman who was taking care of me before my adoption. She pointed this out to everybody, and the director called her, and she was on her way to have lunch with us. We toured the orphanage, saw its playground, cafeteria, and living quarters, and even met some of the kids. The employees also graciously offered my family and me to view my original adoption documents and ask whatever questions had been burning in the back of my mind for the past 22 years. They also gifted me some embroidered artwork and a map of the province. I was floored by everybody’s kindness, understanding, and generosity. My nanny arrived, and we went to lunch at a nearby restaurant. Amy helped us communicate with her and the rest of the staff and translate documents. I really wish that I had studied more Mandarin before my trip! After lunch, our newly-formed crew offered to show me my finding spot and the original orphanage I lived in.
We went to the original welfare institute first. It was old and dilapidated and everybody explained to me that I was lucky that we came when we did, because it was supposed to be demolished soon. I had seen pictures and tapes of my orphanage all throughout my childhood – my parents made a VHS tape of their entire journey. It felt incredibly strange to be at the place I had only ever seen in pictures and videos, in a country across the world that always felt like some fantasy far, far away. The nanny led the way to the floor and the rooms where she used to work and take care of babies and my mom cried out and said she remembered the exact room that I lived in, with its tiles and art and view from the second floor. I stood in that room for a long time, touching the walls, walking steadily from corner to corner, and letting my eyes wander around the room. Even now, this experience feels very surreal. We rambled around the orphanage some more and I happened upon a metal lock on the floor of one of the walkways. It looked very old and wore a fine coat of dirt and rust and the metal was eroded in several places. It didn’t have a key, but was unlocked. I slipped it into my bag and carried it home with me. Now, it sits on my trinket shelf in my bedroom and I hold it from time to time. It’s heavy and remains unlocked and the shanks squeal when I turn them. After our visit at the original orphanage, we went to my finding spot. It was just a short drive away from the orphanage and we all got out and stood where I was found many years ago. I was left at what used to be the gateway of a hospital, but is now a multi-story retail store. I peered inside the windows and there were countless pairs of shoes on display. I remember surveying the surrounding intersection and my parents and the local guide and the employees and the faces of strangers passing by and feeling some grand and indescribable feeling. I began crying, which very quickly became uncontrollable sobbing, and my mom swaddled me in her arms. I’m getting emotional just thinking about it! In the middle of my bout of tears, I couldn’t help but worry about whether the strangers passing by would wonder why I was crying.
Ever since I could talk, I’ve been questioning where I came from and how I got here and why I am where I am. Now that I’m older, I can appreciate how delicately a parent needs to approach questions about where babies come from, let alone questions about birth and adoption. My parents have always lovingly shared every detail that they could spare about what they knew about the circumstances surrounding my adoption, my life in the orphanage, and joining the family. They have showered me with love and care and supported me through every season of my life and hauled 20+ years’ worth of gifts from China to give me every year on my “Gotchya Day.” Despite this lifetime of love and celebration of my adoption, I have never completely shaken the feeling of alienation. I don’t look like any of my family. I could stare in the mirror for hours, picking apart every one of my features, but never find that they bear any resemblance to my parents or brothers. I can’t speak Chinese very well – my ability to speak Mandarin has stagnated at a first-grade level or less. I don’t celebrate most Chinese holidays (Lunar New Year being the exception). When I eat with my Asian friends, I boast the poorest chopstick-using abilities by far, and when my hand falters, I flush with embarrassment.
After crying and crying and crying in my mother’s embrace, she held me at arm’s length, looked me square in the face, and answered my tears with, “it’s not better or worse, just different.” And then the crying began all over again. It felt like my mom accepted all of my attachment, identity, and adoption woes in one brief expression. After a long and emotional day, we traveled an hour back to our hotel and rested for the next day.
DAY FIVE
The following day, we met one of the other travelers, Lian. She had also just finished touring her birth city, orphanage, and finding spot. It was our last day before the guided tour began. Lian traveled by herself and had been exploring all over the capital. I admired her boldness and sense of adventure. She was just a bit older than me and I was ecstatic to have another traveler with us. She had been eyeing a local park and graciously led my parents and I there. After braving public transit, lots of walking, and purchasing our tickets, we entered Juzizhou Park and boarded the park’s train. As we rode the train, we traveled the length of the island, watching other park goers, seeing little shops, observing the beautiful trees and gardens, and enjoying the perfect, temperate weather. My parents rode the train back towards the entrance of the park, but Lian and I wandered our way back on foot. We popped in and out of educational exhibits, bamboo groves, and gazebos. The park was full of families enjoying picnics and flying kites and teaching their children how to ride bikes. Once we arrived back at the entrance, we headed back to the hotel and, again, prepared for the next day.
DAY SIX
The next day was the first day of the guided provincial tour. The last group of travelers was made up of an adoptee a bit younger than me (Jane), and her older brother (Clayton), and their mother (Alice). They had also just toured Jane’s orphanage. We all convened in the hotel lobby and went to the Hunan Embroidery Museum. There, we were shown enormous and intricate pieces of embroidery. The museum guides explained their history, the process and production of embroidered artwork, and their cultural significance. We met some professional embroiderers and even participated a brief class for embroidering. After the museum tour, our group took a bullet train to Zhangjiajie. We arrived late in the afternoon and had plenty of free time to explore the city and do as we pleased. We ate lunch at a local restaurant, wandered in and out of stores, and most of our group attend a Xiangxi Folk Show at the nearby theatre later that night. I’ll never forget the glorious yellow lights that adorned the rooves of each building in that city.
DAY SEVEN
The next morning, we woke early again to enjoy another full day of sightseeing. Our group traveled to Zhanjiajie National Forest Park. We walked along a winding river, meeting stray cats and beholding the vibrant greens and yellows that made up the landscape of the park. After climbing several steep inclines, we reached the mouth of a cave (Yellow Dragon Cave). This cave was dark and dank and unbelievably huge – far greater than any cave I’ve explored in the United States. As we made our way through the cave, we marveled at the enormity of the stalagmites and stalactites – each of which were aglow with vibrant and colorful lights from below. Eventually, we reached a river deep within the cave and our entire group boarded a small boat which floated us down the winding water. Once we reached the end of the river, we got off the boat and continued our long hike through the underground city of rocky pillars. At one point, our guide stopped us near a wall of the cave, which overlooked much of the landscape below us, and taught us how to throw our voices against the wall so that it would echo throughout the cave for hundreds of meters. After a couple of hours, we came out of the other end of the cave and were ushered onto our next adventure. We took a bus and traveled a few more minutes up a steep, serpentine road to tour the Baofenghu Scenic Area. We boarded yet another boat and rode the water through the park. It was tranquil and quiet and the boat moved very slowly. Later, we got off the boat and took a bus back down the long, winding road to a vista a short distance below the scenic area we had just come from. It had a lake teeming with koi fish, clustering in areas where we tossed bits of food. And a towering waterfall, which we climbed some steps to a bridge which sat across the width of the waterfall. You could get so close that you could touch it. After taking in the view here, we wandered around some gift shops nearby and ended the day’s activities after a delicious dinner.
DAY EIGHT
The second day that we spent in the national park was just as wonderful as the first. The area below the park was hosting some sort of wedding event and our group watched in awe as loads of couples sat behind vibrant red ribbons and the towers nearby were decorated with pink and red floral decorations. After taking in the excitement, we advanced towards the line to ride the gondola up to the park. We spent the rest of the day touring the national park. In every direction we looked, there were endless stretches of towering mountains (again, not like any mountains I’ve ever seen in the United States), covered in dense, green vegetation and jagged, rocky edges. We stopped at many gift shops and quiet vistas and tremendous towers and statues. We crossed a beautiful, natural bridge whose railings and stairs were drowning in a sea of red ribbons and metal locks, all left there by people passing by who were wishing well for themselves and their loved ones and the world around them. The national park is, of course, a rich ecosystem, which is home to various forms of wildlife. We were lucky to see tortoises in the water and a family of macaque monkeys settled in the trees. The weather was perfect and I would have stayed in that park forever if I could have.
DAY NINE
The next day, we boarded yet another bullet train and were on our way to Phoenix Ancient City. We stopped at Furongzhen Scenic Area along the way. We greeted the locals, ate ice cream, walked behind waterfalls, met alley cats, and enjoyed a drum show. That was another unforgettable performance – a line of performers beating their drums in perfect unison and dancing in between in each pound of each batter head. Their drumsticks were adorned with long, billowing, red ribbons and they danced swiftly through the air just as the performers did. After some more idle exploring, we boarded our bus and made our way towards our hotel in the ancient city. We arrived in the early evening, and in just a few hours, the entire city was set alight with royal yellow. It was inconceivably grand and vibrant. There were swarms of small, wooden boats traversing the river, all of which were lined (two in the front, two in the back) with gently glowing red lanterns. That night, most of our group wandered around the city, buying souvenirs, trying new foods, listening to the music, and taking in all that there was to take in.
DAY TEN
Our last day of the guided tour ended with formally being shown around the ancient city. We went to a museum, which was dedicated to the life of a famous local artist. We also toured several historical sites – the homes and places frequented by famous Chinese historians and writers. On the last day of the tour, we bid and early goodbye to Jane, Clayton, and Alice because they were due for some additional birth city exploring, but Lian, my parents, and I continued poking around the city. My parents and I said goodbye to Lian at the airport the next day – she was headed back home.
DAY ELEVEN
The next day, my parents and I continued our expedition by flying to Hong Kong. Per my (former) supervisor’s recommendation, we saw the Big Buddha on Lantau Island. We also rode a tram and ascended our way to Victoria Peak and wandered around the city. I had the best vegetarian banh mi of my life in Hong Kong. This segment of the trip, however, was not a part of the tour and was done on our own.
I couldn’t have asked for a better trip to China. Everything was seamless and beautiful and wonderful. The tour guides were so informed, kind, humorous, and helpful. The size of our group was big enough to make new friends, but small enough to be intimate. The season presented perfect weather. The food was delicious and plentiful. There was a perfect balance between structure and guided sightseeing and time to ourselves to spend as we pleased. All of our transportation within China was easy to follow and not fussy at all, thanks to the guides. I cannot stress how amazing the service and experience was. It was the trip that I had been dreaming of ever since I was little and I was so thankful to have taken it. I would go again and again and again if I could. I recommend CCAI and The Park’s Heritage Tour to any adoptee or family who has even the slightest interest in visiting China and connecting with the place where their lives began.
