The Final Countdown

With just a few hours before Yudi and I head to the airport for our marathon flight(s) to the States, it's the final countdown. I am perched one last time at my desk overlooking Roosevelt Road and Taipei 101, reflective, anxious and feeling low. Quite literally low as I just clocked in at 43mg/dl. As evidence of my hypoglycemic haze, I had my final batch of postcards to send out to the OC, so I just walked to the post office to put them in the mailbox and instead of just depositing the cards, I accidentally threw in a brand new vile of One Touch test strips. $25 gone. Poof! Just like that. I tried fishing them out of the mailbag, but it was a fruitless endeavor. I knew I was low and my brain was fuzzy, but I just wanted to mail the postcards before leaving Taiwan, and that was the final chance. Grrr...Yudi called to check if we could get the strips back, but it would be until Monday, and we'll both be in Wisconsin by then. Ah well. On a happy note, when I came out of the post office station, there was a group of carolers singing English Christmas songs, and three sweet little Taiwanese girls giddily wished me "Merry Christmas" and gave me candy, which actually came in quite handy for my low blood sugar. It's the small stuff, eh?

My final day in Taiwan was spent shopping for pearls at the Jade Market, packaging up the rest of my belongings, grabbing lunch from a little alleyway noodle stand, cruising around Taipei on the scooter one last time, going to the Nightmarket for games and a little last minute shopping, getting a fabulously relaxing head massage and hair wash along with a haircut in Shilin, and saying one final goodbye to my neighborhood. Despite a brief catnap, it was a busy day, and in six hours (at 4am)I head to the Taipei airport to board the first of three airplanes bound first for Osaka, Japan, then on to Detroit and finally O'Hare. My biggest concern is Figgy, and I hope that everything works out easily and well taking him across the big wide ocean with us. Say a little prayer for us, please.

As my final post from Taiwan, I'll leave you with some photos from my last day. Enjoy, and if I don't post for a while, just know that I'm well and probably just don't have easy internet access. Happy Holidays to you all, and thanks for your unending support. The postcards are in the mail (along with my test strips!).

I bought a pearl necklace for my mother and my sister from this woman at the jade market.

Day 80: December 22nd, 2007

Preparing to go on a trip as a diabetic requires extra precautions. I leave Taiwan for America tomorrow, and I wanted to be sure I had enough extra insulin just in case the airline lost it, or something went awry. I had extra Lantus and Novolog pens, but I wanted a bottle of Humalog and a bottle of Lantus, just in case. Humalog is rarely used in Taiwan, so they didn't have any Humalog at any of the pharmacies in Gongguan, but I did buy an extra bottle of Lantus and syringes, which set me back $55.

The subway to the Night market was packed. These cutie pies were my neighbors along for the ride.

Juice stand at the night market. They make wonderful fresh juice, but it tends to raise my bloodsugar too much, so I opted for iced Oolong tea instead.

Yudi introduced me to this snack--it's like an omlette with some glutinous sweet potato and vegetables smothered in a kind of gravy. I had no idea what to bolus for it, or if I'd like it, so I waited until afterwards to inject. I also had soup, and ended up taking 6 units which landed me at 141 90 minutes later. Not too bad.

This is the little lane behind my apartment. If you look closely on the right hand side, you can see the crotchety old woman I wrote about here at her post, per usual. I smiled and said my goodbyes to her today (silently, hahah) and snapped this photo discreetly.

See you later, Taiwan! I'm not sure when, but I'll be back.

When the Lights Go Down in the City

My last full weekend in Taipei was spent eating, shopping, sleeping and cleaning out! Taiwan's slogan is "Taiwan (Will) Touch Your Heart" and it is true. I found myself walking around in a bit of a haze this weekend thinking of how Taiwan has gotten to my heart, despite what beef I might have with certain aspects of life as an expat here. The people and parts of the lifestyle here (convenience, bevy of activity) will be sorely missed.

If you have a few minutes, watch this video with amazing footage from Taiwan. And if you're ever in Taiwan, you'll want to know this next bit of info. I found THE BEST MASSAGE IN TAIPEI. I have had some cheap massages, blind massages, excruciatingly painful massages, but truly wonderful massages have eluded me here in Taiwan. Well all that changed on Friday night from approximately 10:30-12:00pm as I experienced some of the best 90 minutes of my life. If you EVER have the chance to have this set of hands work on you, you must! Call (02) 254-12700 and order masseuse #27. Here are the details in Mandarin:

台北恩主公店:TEL:02-25412700 台北市民權東路二段136號(行天宮斜對面) FAX:02-25419106

You usually need to order #27 in advance, as he's quite popular. I was assigned him randomly and was just lucky. He tends to work 2pm-2am. It costs 1,000NT or about $30 for an hour massage plus a complimentary 15 minute foot soak in hot rose water while sipping tea and getting a neck and head rub (NT 1,500 for 90 minutes, or about $48). It is totally worth it! They have many branches, all 24 hours, but this man is the best and only at the one branch. No other will do! I seriously felt like I lost 20 pounds by the end of it. I was light and nimble and my whole aura, my qi, was completely changed. It was amazing. I originally planned on an hour, but extended it to 90 minutes. It was a combination of massage, chiropractic, yoga, Reiki, energy work and acupressure. I don't know how else to describe it. He combines it all and makes you feel amazing. You can't really tell, but I am totally blissed out after the massage, feeling like this experience in my body is totally new and different and wonderful.

Whatever you need, he seems to know. My body was out of alignment, and he brought it back into "shape." There was a palpable difference. It figures that after a year I'd find this master one week before I head home. It was amazing. Yudi and I had his and her massages in a private room, followed up by a foot soak and then he got rid of all the callouses and dead skin on my feet. It was quite the process. I had a real build-up of dead skin.

If you're sick like me, then you find the whole process of removing the callused, dead skin strangely satisfying. I loved watching him remove what was no longer required by my hard working feet. A couple of the other spa workers came in to see it, as well, since it's rare to find that much dead skin on ones heels. I have high arches and have been walking a lot, so mine builds up quickly. I'd had this procedure done before and knew it was safe. If you get grossed out easily, don't watch this , but if you're curious, you can see it here. He later cut my cuticles and my little toe is now red and puffy, but that is not from that procedure--that was from an ingrown toe nail that he tried to help me sort out, and it was not really from him doing anything unsanitary or unsafe. (See how protective I get of my beloved #27?)It costs 400NT or about $14 for a pedicure, foot soak and dead skin removal.

After my blissful massage and well soaked and cared for tootsies, I figured I better get down to business. I started cleaning out my apartment and ridding myself of stuff. Given my limited luggage space, I donated two very large bags of clothes. They had a drop-off box for donations, so Yudi and I huddled together on his little scooter with at least 40 pounds worth of clothes, and dumped them into what looked like a large mailbox. I hope good people who need them will get them.

I also sold back two heavy bags of my beloved books that I've collected over the last year, but the man, who promised me half-back on all books, only gave me 800NT or about $20 for all my books, most of which I bought from his little shop. I was annoyed that I was again promised something that wasn't delivered and felt slightly cheated, but I can't bring the books back, so I just accepted it. There were a few books he wouldn't take for some reason, so I donated them to random scooters in Taipei by simply placing them on a row of scooters. They may not want random English books, but I wanted to get rid of them and spread my love of English literature around Taipei! So I did.

Of course, having unburdened myself and gotten rid of many belongings (still more to go), I had to fill the void a little bit with some shopping. Actually, I was looking for a wedding present for my brother, but I found a nice housewarming gift for him (and his soon to be wife) instead. Yudi and I will give it to my brother when we arrive on Sunday! By the way, I just love being in love!

Yudi and I also bought a handpainted scroll for my father, after all he's been through trying to help us with the ticket snafu, it's the least we could do. I did go to the jade market to try to buy a nice piece of jewelry for my mom, who'll be lending us her house while Yudi's in Milwaukee, but I got so overwhelmed by it all, that I just had no idea what to get--what she'd like, and what was good quality, so I went away empty handed.

Mom--if you're reading this, give me a hint! It's so overwhelming there! Pearls? Silver? Jade? Sapphire? Tourmaline? Tourquoise? Amber? Coral?

I have one more chance to go--this Saturday, and I'd like to buy something nice for my mom, my sister, and myself, but I get so overwhelmed with choices and prices and options that I freak out and get nothing. Well, I did buy myself a cheap bracelet for $2.50. It's just that when the nicer stuff is out, I don't know how to decipher between what is excellent quality, decent quality and poor quality or fake, and there isn't much help, so I just go with "what looks pretty" and what I can afford, but I hate to be ripped off, so this weekend I didn't get anything.

You can see for yourself--it's a kind of kamikaze race through the stalls for the best stuff. Yudi was getting impatient ("You're going so SLOW!") and I was feeling overwhelmed, so it was a bad combination for finding deals. In the end, I walked away frustrated and unsatisfied, and slightly annoyed with myself. I hope I'm more successful next Saturday morn.

On the way home, we raced through the busy Taipei traffic, navigating the alleys and busy roads, and by the time I got home my ass was sore from sitting on that little scooter seat for so long. We ran into this funny guy waiting at a traffic light. I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if I could take his photo. He just laughed and let me.

Generally, people in Taiwan are super friendly, hospitable, beyond nice and easy-going. Generally.

The best part of my weekend came under the lights after I had a tearful moment outside my neighborhood church. It is aptly named Grace Baptist Church, and I was feeling emotional and not really sure why. When the lights go down in the city, the day takes on a whole new feel and the city transforms itself into something else entirely.
Then, it just hit me. I was walking past my favorite little sushi restaurant, past Grace Church and the campus, past all the local haunts and as I readied myself for the short scooter ride home, I just lost it. I couldn't stop the tears. I felt a sense of loss, and with it my sense of everything around me was heightened (sounds, sights, smells), like I was in a dream, or watching myself in a movie. I was there, but also outside of myself. It is difficult to explain without sounding nuts, so suffice to say it was a special moment for me that I can't fully share. All I can say is that I am feeling God more, in myself and in my life, and I grateful for that. Perhaps that is part of what this next journey is for. Standing there in that moment Friday night, I wanted to hold onto it forever. Tears fell, but it was a transcendent moment, too. It was after that moment that I had the amazing massage experience I shared with you earlier. Despite my range of emotions, on a deep soul level I feel truly blessed.

P.S. You can see more photos from my weekend here.

Postcards from the Edge

Donna's post got me thinking. I'm not sending Christmas cards this year, but I have about a week left in Taiwan and I'd like to send each of you a postcard from Taipei. I'm imagining an afternoon at Starbucks sipping a chai tea, listening to Christmas tunes and writing out postcards, "Having a wonderful time, wish I were here." So, if you'd like a handwritten note from Taiwan, I'd be happy to send one to you from half-way around the world. Just leave me a comment or send me an email (amyliagrace at yahoo dot com) with your address. There's something so cool about getting mail from so far away, knowing all that went into the journey of this little piece of paper that somehow miraculously ends up at your door. Plus, it'll make me feel good to do a little something for you guys, since so many of you have been so thoughtful and kind. I've been so consumed with my own worries lately that I haven't been able to give much back to the world which has so lovingly supported me. As an aside, I think (cross your fingers) that the airline/visa/ticket snafu is finally over.

I'd like to leave you with a few short videos from my subway ride with Figgy yesterday. We went to the vet for his health certificate and international papers so he can immigrate to America! It was quite the journey via foot, subway, taxi and scooter, but we made it. I think these short videos give you a good feel for some of the urban grittiness of Taipei. Enjoy!

Zhishan to Shilin Station (Figgy's in the green bag on the floor at the end)


Shilin to Jiantan Station


Jiantan to Yuanshan Station


Yuanshan to Minquan W Rd Station, where the MRT goes from above ground to underground.

Happenstance

Do you believe in fate? In destiny? Do you believe in God or a higher power or even the law of attraction? Do you think things happen for a reason, or is life totally random? Do you have faith?

I believe there are many paths to God, and while I have strayed from my Lutheran upbringing, I have always believed that things happen for a reason and that we may not know what that reason is yet, but can trust there there is more working beneath the surface that we do not see or recognize. Sometimes, God has a bigger plan for us than we may have for ourselves. There are some fateful things that I can't control, but there's a lot I have control over, including my thoughts. I get that. I really do. But some things just make no sense to me. The pain that humans inflict on themselves and others is often unfathomable to me. There are lot of misguided, unhappy people in the world causing others harm.

This weekend I saw the news in Taiwan about a mother who gave birth to a baby in a steel squat toilet on a moving train, leaving her baby in the toilet bowl with fractured limbs. It took more than an hour to rescue the newborn from the toilet. Video cameras helped track down the mother and father, and the baby (and mother) are in stable condition. Later, I found out that someone at the university I teach at (probably a student) threw a dog off the top of the Construction Engineering building. It died. Why would someone do such a thing?

Then, I found out that last week, one of my students who is an intern at a paper published a libelous article about me in a local newspaper. He used my full name and interviewed my boss and some students who are unhappy about my absence and the teaching changes this semester. He didn't get my side of the story, simply reporting my actions as a gross injustice to the hardworking students. Perhaps he thought I would never know since the article was written in Chinese. This was a pretentious student of mine who failed to come to class on the day his midterm presentation was due, and therefore missed his chance to present. I had a strict "no late work" policy in the class, so he received a zero. Bitter? When I confronted him about his sloppy reporting, he told me that "as one of your students, I do hope you can be fine, but as a journalist, I have to report what others said because it is my job and I love it. So what could I do? If you were me, which one would you choose?" Yikes. Sounds like the making of an irresponsible, ruthless journalist. He's clearly ill-informed on the issue of libel, and I've noticed that Taiwanese journalists and news reporters are not held to the same standards of professionalism one would expect in the United States. The US is a lawsuit-sue happy nation, so our reporters must be much more careful with their words.

To be frank, the kid really pissed me off with his irresponsible reporting and the way he used my full name in his article claiming what an inattentive, thoughtless teacher I am. I was rather incensed after reading it. The teaching profession is already so undervalued and underpaid, it seems we get it from all angles. Angry parents and students, the administration and public--sometimes it feels like you just can't win. What's all this hard work for anyway, if in the end everyone's complaining about something? Teaching is not always all its cracked up to be, and it is a tough job. I invite anyone who says otherwise to spend a day in the classroom with me--heck, even one hour. It's quite the eye opening experience to say the least. There are some good, sweet moments and I do know teachers help a lot of kids, don't get me wrong, but this pie-in-the-sky mentality about how teaching is a calling and is held to this revered level where it's all about heart is not quite right. It is a profession. Most days, it's a damn hard job. I work too many hours at home correcting papers and planning curriculum and you know that wonderful summer vacation that everyone talks about? It's UNPAID. Talk it up all you want, but how would you feel about a mandatory two and a half month unpaid vacation every year? Most teachers I know can't afford it, and we teach or find other work during our summers just to make ends meet. We're not just sippin' lemonade and eating bon-bons by the pool.

And to top it all off, the news just handed me another blow. Beginning on December 22nd (the day I leave Taiwan), 250 remote bus routes will be axed in rural areas, including my boyfriend's hometown and township, leaving residents with no public transport options. He'll no longer have any way to get from the city to his home, unless he pays $60 for a roundtrip taxi ride from the city center. The access to education and medicine, as well as the standard of living for the elderly and for school children, will suffer. His mother, who is elderly and diabetic, will no longer be able to take the bus to the local hospital for her twice-monthly appointments and medicine. His parents are too frail to drive their scooter very far anymore, so they'll be stuck without transportation. They live in a very rural area, and that bus was their lifeline. The government is refusing to step up to subsidize it, so the bus company is cancelling its route. Some 20,000 people are affected and about 2,000 people will lose their jobs. Young kids will have to walk or bike many miles to school, and those who need medical care will be unable to have easy access to it anymore. For my boyfriend's family, it means an end to hospital visits and simple trips to the city center to sell their fruit or buy from the markets. It also means he has no way to get home. It breaks my heart, and I wish there was something I could do. You can read more about it here.

So, I'm sorry for all the bad news today, but I needed to vent. It's one of those moments where I just feel all the unnecessary suffering in the world. I know there are wonderful, good, giving, loving people in the world. I know there is goodness and love around every bend, but sometimes the bad news still comes and weighs on the heart and mind in a way that burdens the soul with sorrow. Today is just one of those days.

The Wedding Party

I spent Saturday night at my first ever Taiwanese wedding, thrown by the family of my best Taiwanese friend, Jo. It exceeded my expectations, as it was set in a fancy hotel in Keelung, and the ambiance was more romantic than most Taiwanese weddings. Like most weddings in Taiwan, a few hundred guests were invited to the pre-decorated wedding locale where we all indulged in a fifteen course meal made of the finest food the families could afford, then as soon as we finished eating, we got up and left (within seconds). It was as simple as that. Well, kind of. Allow me to explain...
Taiwanese weddings may or may not include the actual ceremony. Like most, this one didnt. The event began with the bride and groom arriving at the restaurant already husband and wife. Basically, a Taiwanese wedding party involves three hours of eating, in which approximately 15 courses are brought in large serving dishes and placed on a Lazy Susan in the middle of the table. The goal is to eat some of everything but not to fill up on any one thing because you’ve got to last all the way to the end. Each dish is special--some because they are symbolic, some because they are expensive, and some because they are just plain delicious.

Like me, if you are invited to one, you will be expected to present a a red envelope filled with money, called hung pao before entering the party. The amount of money given should never include the number four, since that is considered an unlucky number. These are sometimes referred to as a red bomb (because once handed one, you will lose money). You will be expected to bring money as the only gift, though my friend told me I didn't have to since I was like family. That said, who goes to a wedding without giving a gift? So I placed my meager donation in a red envelope (the typical amount should be at least $50) and handed it a man whose job it was to tally the results of the envelopes. Married couples make a serious killing with the red envelopes, and much if not all of the wedding cost is recovered thanks to the hung pao. Chinese and Taiwanese give red envelopes filled with auspicious amounts of money as gifts for major occasions such as Chinese New Year, birthdays and weddings. Since I am am now jobless and my boyfriend is a grad student, we gave NT 1,600 or about $50. This entitled us to a wonderful 15-course meal during the wedding party, certainly worth it.

After greeting Jo and her family, Yudi and I, like all the other guests I found our place at a table corner (no assigned seating), ate like kings, tried to make idle conversation with those around us, drank a little wine, looked at the powerpoint photo slideshow while listening to Nora Jones, congratulated the bride and groom when they came around to the table and shook hands with them on my way out. Every wedding I have been to outside of Taiwan has been unique. Some were more special and memorable than others, but none were quite as formulaic as those in Taiwan. I mean, what is a wedding without heartfelt speeches, tears and laughter, dancing, hugs and kisses? To me, they are the essential ingredients to a wedding, not what is on the menu.

That said, it was a delicious meal. Food is by far the centrepiece of the wedding in Taiwan. Everything else is just provides a backdrop. Speeches are made while everyone is tucking into their food and talking amongst each other. It creates a mad cacophony of noise that lasts for most of the meal. Here’s what I do remember of the food: lobster salad, shark's fin soup, chewy sweet taro rice balls (symbolizes the unexpected sweetness of marriage), snails, candied pork crepes, sesame shrimp and pineapple, chicken legs in teriyaki sauce, chicken soup, broiled fish (served with head and tail – to symbolize a complete life), dry sesame dumplings with leeks and pork, a plate of fruit (grapes and watermelon) for dessert. You can imagine that by the end of the dinner I was more than full.

At Taiwanese weddings, speeches are not given by close friends and family but by the most influential people who know the bride and groom such as their current employers or past lecturers. So instead of the personal stories, jokes and anecdotes that typify speeches in western weddings, the speeches in Taiwanese weddings usually sound like a recital of their resumes. The wedding this evening began with a speech from their high school teacher, which I thought was sweet since they've known each other since senior high school. There was also a spirited speech from a local politican who was trying to get votes from the 350 or so people who attended the wedding party. Neither the bride nor groom gives a speech. Nor is one expected of them. I find this strange, as they are the stars of the show after all. Surely people would rather listen to a few words from them than their a stuffy politician who probably gives the same speech for every wedding he attends.

The great feast is also punctuated by the bride and groom (and parents) paying a visit to each table where they accept a toast. Typically they drink some alcohol (wine or whisky, something like that) at each table but to prevent getting drunk tea or juice is often used instead, at least towards the end. Wimps! Just kidding--there were 39 tables, so it makes sense. The toast is the only real personal touch during the wedding party, though, aside from the very end when the bride and groom stood by the door offering each guest a box of candy on their way out. The giving of candy symbolizes the guests sharing in the happiness and sweetness of the marriage. Oh, and as a souvenir we also took one or two photos of the newlyweds (like senior pictures style). And that was that. Short and sweet. It was over in three hours or less. No dancing, no bouquet toss, no elegantly decorated cake or coffee that nobody wants to consume after 15 courses!

Overall, the process of a Taiwanese wedding is very streamlined and efficient. While I must admit that I prefer the passion and occasional bawdiness of American weddings, there is something to be appreciated about the simplicity of the event in Taiwan. The gist of the ceremony is this: “Here we are for the first time as husband and wife. Please share our first meal with us and then enjoy the rest of your day.” Though I assure you, after discussing the details with the sister of the bride, nothing is simple about the price tag of a Taiwanese wedding. While renting a wedding dress might be less expensive than buying one, keep in mind the Taiwanese bride has to rent three! One concept that seems to transcend international boundaries is that, when it comes to weddings, only the best will suffice. While I was glad to indulge in some good food, the best part of the evening was seeing everyone dressed up and watching the tears well up in the eyes of my friend, her father and family as they bid adieu to their daughter. Unlike most young American woman, it's quite normal for Taiwanese daughters to live at home with their parents until they marry and move in with their husband's family. Jo's sister is 27 and has been living at home until now, when she will move in with her husband, who still lives at home with his family. It is the end of an era, and with Jo's other sister getting married soon as well, her parents are definitely emtpy-nesting. It was sweet to see the tears, since emotions are rarely rendered in public. Can that be a high point? To me, it was. Being with my best friend and boyfriend at the wedding and seeing them all dressed up was such a treat. It was a night I'll not soon forget, and I am blessed to have been a part of it.

P.S. All photos from the night can be seen here.

Life in the Lanes

Much of the life of Taiwan takes place not on the busy streets or in the fancy skyscrapers and upscale boutiques, but in the maze of lanes and alleys throughout the island's big cities and small villages. True Taiwanese life is best observed in the lanes. For example, I just saw a girl outside of a traditional mom 'n pop barbershop working out on an exercise machine (one of those ones that looks like a mix between a thrusting mechanism and a medieval torture device) while her grandparents cut hair, old men playing a spirited game of mahjong on makeshift tables, shopowners doing their dirty dishes in the alley, an arthritic Hakka women hanging dirty laundry, and taxi drivers taking a break in their vehicles, passed out in their back seats.

I love peeking into windows seeing the old men watching their puppet dramas on TV or seeing women holding babies and cooking. I love the glimpses I get into the markets and the storefronts and the whole scene looks like its been plucked out of a different time and space. You'd never know you were in Taipei--this metropolitan city with the tallest building in the world and 5,000 Starbucks. It's like being transported to a completely different place, yet its only right behind me--in the lane behind my apartment or a few blocks off the main drag. I'll miss the life in the lanes and the little dramas that play out each day behind the scenes.

You can see a video of my walk here. I've been working on uploading all my photos to Flickr, but it's a long process and my connection is a bit slow. You can see quite a few of my sets here; just know that I'm continually adding more day by day. For now, here's a first glimpse into the life in the lanes of Taiwan:

Leave

I just walked back from campus in the rain, came home and promptly had a meltdown in the arms of my friend, complete with such hard sobbing that I didn't recognize it as my own voice. I met with my boss this morning and afterwards it just felt so final. I had to write a letter to the "School Board" requesting leave. I just finished. To put it eloquently, it sucked. I was informed it had to be submitted ASAP in order to have my leave "accepted." I had to explain in detail why I need to return to the States for medical care, and in essence had to trump up my condition in order to have my contract suspended and be granted leave. They want all of my medical receipts and details of my medication and doctor visits, per university regulation. I consider this private and personal and none of their damn business. They feel I should comply so I don't give the newly created center a bad name, as my boss worries may happen, but I want to protect my own right to privacy, as well. What are the going to do? Keep my last paycheck? They're doing that already. Prevent me from leaving the country? Impossible. Not invite me back?

I find the Taiwanese and Chinese have a totally different viewpoint on privacy. In the States, I guard my privacy in many matters. I would be mad if someone opened my mail or started prying into my personal life without invitation. I do not write this blog anonymously, so it's not like I cherish anonymity at all costs, but I do reserve the right to keep some things to myself. It's different if I choose to disclose something, but I resent being told I must. What business is it of theirs?

When I sent ahead a box with some of my bulkier possessions to my (23 year old) Taiwanese friend's house, her parents opened it before even mentioning to her that a package arrived in her name. When I went to the Mental Health clinic, they had all patient names on a clipboard hanging outside the doctor's door for all to see. My name was there--the only English name--so it was rather obvious. This bothered me. So it goes with every doctor I've seen. It's the same with student grades. They're just posted out in the hallways of the buildings. In fact, their student IDs are comprised of numbers indicating their class standing and rank as well as their year. That way, as a teacher or fellow student, you don't have to guess at their "ability" so long as you know their ID number. Even my Endo brought up another patient's personal information on the computer screen to give me his name (and ARC or health card number, if I really wanted it) so I could wait for him and "join his gym" as he suggested I do. So yeah, they're not too big on privacy here. Unless it comes to "saving face" with emotions or feelings, which are guarded with such meticulous care so as not to possibly reveal what they're feeling at any time. I've never seen so many expressionless, stone-faced people in all my life. Perhaps they see it as inner-strength, but I see it as inauthentic to constantly hide your feelings, even from those closest to you, but this is where we differ, I suppose.

I'm digressing here. My main point is I am leaving on December 22nd for America, and even though I have a round-trip ticket, I am almost certain I will not be coming back on 12-30 as originally planned. My boss told me this morning that another teacher is teaching my classes, as of today (a hippie burn-out who stutters and has a long dirty beard and trouble listening). Some students are quite upset, as they joined the class because of the instructor (me!) and others are upset that there has been a gap in their learning progress, but most of them have sent me text-messages, emails and even homemade cards wishing me well and expressing their empathy and gratitude.

Things change so quickly. What was three months is now less than three weeks. There is some relief and hopefulness, but also fear and sadness. It hurts knowing I am hurting others with my choices. My friend said to me today, "I hate your decision." His words washed over me and lingered in the air for a long time before either of us could speak again. I cried. What could I say? He then said, "It's okay, mumblehead. I love you." (Mumblehead is his new nickname for me after I called him a mumblemouth. At the time, he didn't know what mumble meant, so he just called me a mumblehead. Every time he says it, it makes me laugh.)

I love you, too, Mumblemouth.
I love you, too.

Good Grief

I was walking home through the campus today after lunch at Sushi Express and I followed this lovely little stone path around a building that looked like it was leading me home. It was a dead end. It was a well manicured slate path that seemed like it would lead me out of the campus, past the Gongguan subway stop and onto Roosevelt Road, but alas, when I got to the end of it, all that was there was a fence that didn't have a gate. There was nothing to do but turn around in frustration, and go back from whence I came. I followed the slate path back toward the building and tried to find another way out. It seemed so illogical. Why would they have this beautiful path that led to nowhere? It was clear it led somewhere before, but now there was a fence blocking the way. Why? I could so clearly see the way out--I could see the other side of the street. I could see my apartment, but I couldn't get there. Sure, I could've scaled the fence, but c'mon...I'm a 30 year old woman with mild arthritis in one knee. I'm not scaling any fences just to land on the sidewalk on the other side. I turned around. I went back and had to go out of my way--off the path, around the building and back onto a different path that eventually led me home.

It wasn't really that far out of my way. In fact, had I just skipped the slate path and gone around the opposite side of the building (the less appealing looking way) in the first place, I would've been home a lot earlier. I could've just circumnavigated the campus and headed out without all the ruckus over the dead end path. But I opted for the aesthetically pleasing way. The way I thought was better looking and assumed would lead me home. It was logical that such a nice path that seemed so clearly to be leading to the sidewalk would lead me to the campus gates where I'd pass through, and head out. It did not. Do you see the parallels here?

On the way home, I passed a young man holding an adorable baby with a smile on his face. When I came back that way, he and the baby were gone. Earlier, a child at the sushi restaurant had implored his mother to trade places with him so he didn't have to sit next to me--the scary foreigner. She smiled at me and said no, but did pull his stool closer to her body, as the child looked on, begrudgingly. He was skeptical and scared of me. He wanted nothing to do with me. I'm usually good with kids, but I get that reaction a lot from children here. And many stares from elderly and young alike. Curiosity. Fear. Ignorance. Interest. Today, it was too much for me. As a white-skinned, brown-haired, blue eyed woman, I can't say I know what it's like to be a minority in America, but I at least know what it feels like to be an outsider--to have people clutch their children a little closer as I pass, or blatantly stare at me as I walk by. I know how it feels to be different. To not fit in. To be the "other," the token. No matter how much I try not to personalize it, it doesn't feel good. It makes me tired. And a little sad. I know it's not a reflection of me as much as it is of others, but it gets to me sometimes. Today was one of those days. I'd like to just eat sushi by myself and not be an object of curiosity or fear. Amazing what we take for granted, isn't it?

That's one of the things I'll be taking with me--the gratitude I feel toward certain aspects of my life in the States that I most certainly took for granted before. What a gift that is, really. I have been filled with such wanderlust, such a sense of wanting to be somewhere other than where I am that I think that being back home and being able to appreciate it for what it is will feel good. I have many things to be grateful for, and many aspects of life in America that I didn't realize were so valuable to me, so ingrained in the very essence of who I am. I guess that's one of the things about being born into a privileged society. It's easy to take for granted all that is around us--all we have and all the little ways that our life is blessed simply by the luck or chance or what have you, of being born an American. It doesn't mean things are perfect or easy, but by comparison, we have much to be thankful for. I know my eventual return home will have its fair share of bumps and bruises along the way and I don't want to fall into the trap of "the grass is greener" mentality. That said, the decision feels right. I am sometimes so petrified to make "the wrong" decision that I don't make one at all, but this time, I don't want to play that game. No choice is, in fact, a choice, too. For now, I am thankful for identifying a path that leads home, and as nervous as I am to not know where it ends or what twists or turns it might take, the direction seems right, and that is enough for me right now. The rest will be revealed in its own time.

A heartfelt thank you to Beth for sending me this song, which allowed a much needed soul cleansing cry to come forth from that scared place in side of me, letting me know in equal terms I am sad, but will be okay.



Blue and White

it's okay I'm going home now

I'll be okay tonight

I just wanna be alone now

with the dark and the light

that's my favorite color blue there

as the sun sets in the sky

there's just something in the hue there

in the corner of my eye

in the dark and the light

in the blue and the white

all the things that I forgot

all the things that I am not

holding back and never letting you see

Light a match in the dark now

see my shadow on the wall

doesn't seem too much like me

no it's not like me at all

I pour over what you wrote

and the letters burn the page

I see all the things you meant to me

in the things you didn't say

in the dark and the light

in the blue and the white

all the things that I've forgot

all the things that I am not

holding back and never letting you see

now I am

now I am

now I am

now I am

now I am

now I am.

Piano and vocals - Beth Waters

Let Cheer Begin

How was your Thanksgiving? Here in Taiwan, you can forget the turkey platter. Why not eat on and out of a toilet bowl? Yes, you can have your fill at Modern Toilet. All 100 seats in the crowded diner are made from toilet bowls, not chairs. There are 12 such restaurants in Taiwan. My students have been, but I just can't get over the fact that you're eating on and, in fact, out of a toilet.

It's not shit: it's dinner ala Modern Toilet. Yes, I'll have the #2. Hold the corn, please.

Anyway, back to the title of this post. "Let Cheer Begin" is the ad campaign of Starbucks in Taiwan. You can buy the overpriced brown t-shirts with the slogan on it and purchase artificial cheer. I passed, but did get a 2 for 1 coupon for drinks when I indulged in an Americano the other day, so that was good enough for me. One of my worst Thanksgivings involved having to work the day after Thanksgiving at a Starbucks at Mayfair Mall. Ugh...I remember how much I came to hate prepping for the Cheer Parties and serving overpriced drinks at lightning speed pace out of those red cups I came to deplore. I'm glad to be a consumer rather than a barista, though I can whip up a mean cappucino, frappuccino, macchiato, espresso con panna, or anything in between. But I digress...Walking the two blocks from my apartment to the Starbucks, I pass a small temple, a drug store outside of which are two monks in brown robes with yellow braided belts begging for spare change or donations. I passed a rough around the edges woman in a tight leopard skin skirt and a faux fur lined jacket chain-smoking, selling freshly cut fruit (watermelon, pineapple, grapes, dragonfruit). I walked by a portly man sitting on a plastic stool selling seasoned grape tomatoes and sliced guavas out of a giant red tub. He was on the sidewalk outside of an upscale boutique. I passed two handicapped folks in wheelchairs selling lottery tickets to passersby. I noticed the line of young Taiwanese folks snaking along the sidewalk as they waited for their carb-heavy Mister Donut treats. I even saw an old man selling little goldfish out of a large plastic dish outside the steps of Subway, trying to lure in young and old alike with his plastic bags full of water and fish. I saw the familiar face of the elderly man who sells the edible flowers I enjoy so much. I passed, since I have a rascal of a kitten now.
Sometimes I zone out and ignore the bevy of activity around me. Not today. Today, I noticed. Here are a few random photographs of things I've noticed in my environs. I don't know how long I'll be staying, so I want to take note of such things while I'm here. I hope you enjoy my photographs.

A TienMu sidewalk shrine and candles burning outside the temple on a busy street during rush hour.

Day 51 of 365: Testing my bloodsugar inside the temple. It was dinnertime, and I hadn't eaten in several hours. I was walking quite a bit and felt a possible hypo coming on. I tested in at 67 mg/dl, snapped a few more photos, and went to dinner earlier than originally planned. Even Matsu can't save you from hypoglycemia, no matter how hard you pray or how much you offer up to her on the altar.

Even monks and nuns need cheap Tupperware from the local market in Guting.

In true East-meets-West style, there's a KFC sandwiched in between two lovely traditional temples. I spent some time inside the temple, and when I exited, I noticed the KFC. You can pray to Matsu, and then grab some original recipe chicken and a biscuit.

As the sun was setting, the lights of the temple shone brightly. Lovely, isn't it? As the countdown to Christmas begins, I say why wait? Let Cheer Begin!

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