Noisy American!

Here I sit in a Tianjin Costa Coffee shop. The environment is more Korean than Chinese. More “tai gui le” (expensive) than “pian yi dian’r” (cheap). I am drinking a medium mocha that cost 34RMB. (Approximately 6USD. This place was made for the rich and the foreign.)

I came here to chat with a foreign friend and read and write in a calming environment. 

Part of this dream was to be.

While my friend and I were talking, I started laughing. The man sitting caddy-corner to us caught my attention and put his index finger up to his lips to indicate that he needed me to be less exuberant in my conversation. I was a little too loud for his baby sleeping in the stroller.

I thought I was speaking at a lower volume. I thought I stopped laughing. Unfortunately, the baby woke up and started wailing.

Poor Asian dads. They have no opportunity to practice caring for the children and they just don’t know what to do with them, even if it’s not a screaming baby.

As I continue sitting in this coffee shop, the 18-month-old has continued his tantrum. The Korean mothers on the other side of the wall have started to look around for the perpetrator. They have tried to go back to their conversations, but they cannot. They see the pathetic look of the father, searching for the return of his wife from her shopping trip. He is telepathically begging her to return with speed, wishing the child had kept on sleeping, hating that I came to sit next to them. The man looks so helpless and frantic. He is trying to quiet the baby, but he doesn’t know how. People don’t want to talk and drink when there’s a toddler wailing at the next table. He feels great pressure.

I feel guilty. Was it my fault? Did I continue speaking too loudly? I thought I had kept an indoor voice. Irene assures me that my tone was fine.

Pretty soon my friend has left and the Korean moms can contain themselves no longer. They have to instruct the helpless father. They try to show him how to hold the baby, “Pick him up. Hold him close to you. Stand up. Rock him back and forth. Pat his back.” The baby’s legs are flailing. He’s throwing a fit and the dad doesn’t know how to hold him.

The poor man, at least he is showing great patience. All eyes (except mine) are on him. A westerner on his right, Korean moms peering on his left, and then approaches one of the male baristas to offer advice. (I was surprised at this!) The Korean moms approach again and try to show him that he needs to stand up and rock the baby back and forth. The dad stands for a while, but keeps coming back to his seat. (Why?!)

My goodness. Could the man not even hold out on his feet for a little while?

And this baby! My goodness. What a B-R-A-T. He can’t even let his dad hold him.

But, of course, that’s how they have chosen to train him. The baby’s chubby face reveals that he is not lacking in a full supply of food and attention. His every whim is catered to and pre-met. Too bad. Brat-made.

(Alas, that sentiment may just be my cultural perspective. They know they have provided him with comfort and security. A baby’s demands should always be met, first. That is love.)

Now the dad is holding the child in his left hand and an iPad in his right. The child has been hushed for a while. Watching the iPad. Sick. Oh my goodness. 18-months-old and the iPad is already a comfort. The mom has returned. The baby is immediately calmed. Bleh.

The Korean moms go back to their conversation. Their expressions are peaceful and happy. They know this is the way it is supposed to be. Men know nothing about how to care for babies. It’s the ladies’ work. Children are supposed to be cared for by the women and the men are supposed to earn the money and watch.

Epilogue

After the baby was well calmed, the father told his wife the story of me being too loud for the baby to sleep. I could tell not because I can understand his language, but because he subtly pointed to me and re-enacted putting the index finger to his lips to indicate the need for being quiet. I have failed as an ambassador. It could be that he will hate and blame Westerners for the rest of his days. Certainly, he will stereotype and declare that we are all too loud for the good of society.

Extended Epilogue

As they leave, mom dresses the baby in a cute, striped hat and scarf set. The mom holds the baby while the dad tries to snap a shot of him with the same iPad that was to be his distraction. The dad loves him. He just doesn’t know how to care for him. While the mom tries to put on her coat, the dad takes hold of the baby. And what do you know? The baby starts crying again. Swiftly, on goes the coat, baby is swept up into the arms of the mother, and the cries are stilled.

The father fears and the baby controls.

Not that this will always be the case. Eventually, and not exactly, the roles will be switched.