The Green Ram Temple is the perfect place to spend a Sunday afternoon. The beautiful gardens and traditional Chinese music make me feel as if I'm in a movie. Unreal. Mystical. A world away from what I know.
And then I sit back and watch my children wander through this place like it's no big deal, like it's to be expected, like it's their home. How did this happen? In all my youthful daydreams I never imagined this far-away land as the place I'd raise a family. This is what my children know, where they have grown, where they come from. It truly is their home. What a stunning realization. Lucas tells people he's Chinese--he has a Chinese birth certificate after all. We tease him but he doesn't understand why we are laughing. Why wouldn't he be Chinese?
For all of the differences that I experience, the overwhelming feeling that I am the foreigner, the frustrations of people doing things differently than I would do them, I am grateful that my children have a broader perspective. That they understand and are not frustrated. That they feel at home in a place like this. That they are being led down a path that is unique and exciting and will become a part of their future.
Lucas is the gourd-playing MASTER! Go Buddy!