We’ve gotten a lot of reactions on Facebook to the clothes
Matteo came to us in. While his outfit came as a surprise to our friends and family at home, he was dressed exactly like all the young children we saw in his home province. He was dressed in
a thick coat, thick pants that were fleece-lined (and thicker than the snow pants kids in the U.S. wear) and knock-off Nike high tops. None of the ensemble came close to
matching. Underneath he was wearing
matching, pajama-like tops and bottoms and no underwear. The bottoms were what are referred to as
“split-pants,” meaning that they are open in the back and front so young
children can relieve themselves. They take the place of underwear, which is why Matteo wasn't wearing any.
Children in China (and other parts of the world) have worn split-pants like
this since the beginning of time because they’re a viable option for people who
don’t have access to disposable diapers or the means to wash cloth
diapers.
The Chinese bundle their young children really well because they believe being cold will cause them to get
sick. They also do so for very practical reasons. Homes and buildings aren’t heated very well
and they spend a lot of time exposed to the elements as they ride bicycles or
scooters, wait for buses, or spend time in a park to get out of their tiny
apartments. Few people have cars and
even those that do, no one uses car seats, so there’s no safety concern about
thick coats under the harness of a car seat. The thick clothing met its purpose because of all the kids we encountered out and about looked comfortable under all those layers and happy to be outside.
As much as I understand why the Chinese dress their children the way they do and respect that Americans and the Chinese have different views on appropriate dress, what I wasn't prepared for was how frustrated I'd be for being told how to dress my own child - repeatedly. My annoyance at strangers' reactions to my children's perceived lack of clothing ended up being the biggest culture clash of the trip for me.
I’d been warned that we would be called out for not dressing our kids warmly enough, but having lived in Germany where old ladies publicly correct you if you dare jaywalk or you don’t have a hat on your child, I thought I’d be prepared. Well, German grandmas have nothing on Chinese grandmas I’ve learned. The Chinese will literally physically inspect your child and erupt into a heated chatter with each other about how your child needs more clothes on. I didn't need to know Chinese to understand that they thought Chris and I were unfit parents. No explanation from our guide about how we're from Minnesota where it's a heck of a lot colder or that our hotel is well-heated so thick layers aren't needed ever did any good.
As an American, I approach dressing my children for the elements in a different manner. I dress them in layers, but layers they can put on and take off throughout the day. They wear their snow pants, winter coats, hats, mittens and boots when they go outside to play in the snow during preschool, but when they're only running out to the car, they wear their winter coat, but none of the other gear. Any time they are indoors, where homes and buildings are well-heated, they wear a long-sleeve shirts and maybe, on a really cold day, a sweater or sweatshirt.
I also know that cold weather doesn't make a dry person sick. I dress them warmly to keep them comfortable, but not because I'm afraid they're going to catch a cold or pneumonia. Or I make sure their skin isn't exposed when temperatures are so low that frostbite is a concern. I know that most of the body's heat is lost through extremities, so they may not have on a thick coat, but they'll be wearing hats and gloves. Ironically, few Chinese wear hats, even those overly-bundled children.
As a Minnesotan, I have a different idea of what "cold" means. Matteo's province experienced a rare snowfall while we were there, but the lowest temperatures still barely sank to 32 degrees. In Kiera's province, it was warm enough that flowers were blooming. Although they had some unseasonably cold weather where the highs only reached 55, we also saw temperatures push 80. I still saw plenty of people wearing heavy coats on those hot days.
Chris and I started to get in arguments over what to dress the kids in. The type to avoid conflict at all costs, he wanted to dress Matteo in the puffy pants he came in, whereas as I was insistent that we dress him in what we thought was appropriate, which was clothing that he wasn't going to overheat in. The experience wore me down enough that I eventually I started debating every morning whether to overdress Matteo and Kiera just to avoid conflict with strangers.
And that is how we ended up with poop on our winter coats on a sunny, 65-degree day. Kiera and I were going to meet with people who had taken care of Kiera when she was young and remembering the disapproving look we'd received from Matteo's foster mother, I broke down and put Kiera's coat back on her before we hopped out of the van. To eliminate any chance of criticism, I wore my coat too. But that's when Kiera had one of her many blow-outs, and I'll spare you the details, but it was so bad that our coats ended up sealed in plastic bags (along with many other articles of clothing) to be dealt with back at the hotel. Shortly after this incident, Kiera's former caretakers (who had missed the blow-out scene) told me she needed to be wearing a coat. The two long-sleeve shirts she was wearing weren't good enough. As our guide explained what happened, I yanked the bags knotted closed to cut down on the stench out of my backpack. They at least laughed when they learned what happened, but still had to work in a final plea for me to put more clothing on her. I nearly threw my hands up in defeat.
As much as I understand why the Chinese dress their children the way they do and respect that Americans and the Chinese have different views on appropriate dress, what I wasn't prepared for was how frustrated I'd be for being told how to dress my own child - repeatedly. My annoyance at strangers' reactions to my children's perceived lack of clothing ended up being the biggest culture clash of the trip for me.
I’d been warned that we would be called out for not dressing our kids warmly enough, but having lived in Germany where old ladies publicly correct you if you dare jaywalk or you don’t have a hat on your child, I thought I’d be prepared. Well, German grandmas have nothing on Chinese grandmas I’ve learned. The Chinese will literally physically inspect your child and erupt into a heated chatter with each other about how your child needs more clothes on. I didn't need to know Chinese to understand that they thought Chris and I were unfit parents. No explanation from our guide about how we're from Minnesota where it's a heck of a lot colder or that our hotel is well-heated so thick layers aren't needed ever did any good.
As an American, I approach dressing my children for the elements in a different manner. I dress them in layers, but layers they can put on and take off throughout the day. They wear their snow pants, winter coats, hats, mittens and boots when they go outside to play in the snow during preschool, but when they're only running out to the car, they wear their winter coat, but none of the other gear. Any time they are indoors, where homes and buildings are well-heated, they wear a long-sleeve shirts and maybe, on a really cold day, a sweater or sweatshirt.
I also know that cold weather doesn't make a dry person sick. I dress them warmly to keep them comfortable, but not because I'm afraid they're going to catch a cold or pneumonia. Or I make sure their skin isn't exposed when temperatures are so low that frostbite is a concern. I know that most of the body's heat is lost through extremities, so they may not have on a thick coat, but they'll be wearing hats and gloves. Ironically, few Chinese wear hats, even those overly-bundled children.
As a Minnesotan, I have a different idea of what "cold" means. Matteo's province experienced a rare snowfall while we were there, but the lowest temperatures still barely sank to 32 degrees. In Kiera's province, it was warm enough that flowers were blooming. Although they had some unseasonably cold weather where the highs only reached 55, we also saw temperatures push 80. I still saw plenty of people wearing heavy coats on those hot days.
Chris and I started to get in arguments over what to dress the kids in. The type to avoid conflict at all costs, he wanted to dress Matteo in the puffy pants he came in, whereas as I was insistent that we dress him in what we thought was appropriate, which was clothing that he wasn't going to overheat in. The experience wore me down enough that I eventually I started debating every morning whether to overdress Matteo and Kiera just to avoid conflict with strangers.
And that is how we ended up with poop on our winter coats on a sunny, 65-degree day. Kiera and I were going to meet with people who had taken care of Kiera when she was young and remembering the disapproving look we'd received from Matteo's foster mother, I broke down and put Kiera's coat back on her before we hopped out of the van. To eliminate any chance of criticism, I wore my coat too. But that's when Kiera had one of her many blow-outs, and I'll spare you the details, but it was so bad that our coats ended up sealed in plastic bags (along with many other articles of clothing) to be dealt with back at the hotel. Shortly after this incident, Kiera's former caretakers (who had missed the blow-out scene) told me she needed to be wearing a coat. The two long-sleeve shirts she was wearing weren't good enough. As our guide explained what happened, I yanked the bags knotted closed to cut down on the stench out of my backpack. They at least laughed when they learned what happened, but still had to work in a final plea for me to put more clothing on her. I nearly threw my hands up in defeat.
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