I could just see it through the opening between the parking garage pillars of the HSR: streaks of orange and magenta transforming the Kaohsiung sky into a bowl of rainbow sherbet. Though I knew that time was of the essence, and that we needed to get downstairs and get my bags taken care of, I couldn't help but pause: this would be my last Kaohsiung sunset.
As I write this, it's still July 11th, and it's still sunset--but I am now waiting for my final flight in SeaTac airport after an 11-hour flight, and it's almost 9pm, not just before 7. Time zones and day-length differences strike again.
I teared up twice on my journey: once, just a few minutes after I saw the sunset in Kaohsiung, as I said goodbye to the world's best host family; and once, about an hour ago, as I caught my first glimpse of American soil. And that pretty much sums it up: tears on both ends, for both reasons. Happy and sad. Good and bad. C'est la vie.
As I am, now, officially in America for good, I am no longer 百合, and so this blog has come to an end. Going forward, I will still blog, but less frequently, and on subjects which have yet to be determined. Nonetheless, though it's empty now, here's a link to my new blog, for whenever I begin posting about my more-mundane life Stateside.
I'll cherish forever my time in Taiwan; I truly cannot imagine where I would be had I not gone; I don't want to think about a version of my life in which I hadn't met all the amazing people and had all the amazing experiences that I have met and had over the past year. But all good things must end; even the most perfect day has a sunset, followed by darkness.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Tired
I'm trying to preemptively force my body into a US time zone. The only problem: it's not working.
It's 10:44am, July 10 right now. That's the time back home, and that's what I keep telling myself. The thing is, here it's 1:44am, July 11, and that's the time my worn out body is screaming at me to pay attention to. I tried to plan for this, trying to sleep between 2pm and 7pm this afternoon (aka 11pm-4am, Stateside), but it just resulted in an odd dream in which I was home and had completely blanked out on my entire journey, and in my waking up early feeling ill-rested.
And, now, I can tell you there is no way I'm staying up another 9 hours or so, until an "appropriate" West-coast bedtime. What's more, that's probably a good thing: if I went to bed in 9 hours, I'd miss my planned breakfast with Fonda and Esther, and I'd end up missing most of my last day in Taiwan AND likely missing my train/flight, in addition to not being ready to go, since my bags are still in need of some re-packing, and I am certainly not capable of finishing it tonight.
So...yeah. I'm going to go to bed now, I think. So much for advance time zone shifting...I leave tomorrow!
It's 10:44am, July 10 right now. That's the time back home, and that's what I keep telling myself. The thing is, here it's 1:44am, July 11, and that's the time my worn out body is screaming at me to pay attention to. I tried to plan for this, trying to sleep between 2pm and 7pm this afternoon (aka 11pm-4am, Stateside), but it just resulted in an odd dream in which I was home and had completely blanked out on my entire journey, and in my waking up early feeling ill-rested.
And, now, I can tell you there is no way I'm staying up another 9 hours or so, until an "appropriate" West-coast bedtime. What's more, that's probably a good thing: if I went to bed in 9 hours, I'd miss my planned breakfast with Fonda and Esther, and I'd end up missing most of my last day in Taiwan AND likely missing my train/flight, in addition to not being ready to go, since my bags are still in need of some re-packing, and I am certainly not capable of finishing it tonight.
So...yeah. I'm going to go to bed now, I think. So much for advance time zone shifting...I leave tomorrow!
Monday, July 9, 2012
Substitutions
I opened my mouth, and shut it again. Recalibrated. Opened it again. "Careful!"
It happened first with the ubiquitous "mmn"; then "thank you," I think, and spread quickly to "really?" and "yeah!": in my mind, they existed first and foremost in Chinese. Someone gives me something? 謝謝 (Xie xie)! Someone says something unbelievable? 真的嗎 (Zhen de ma)? I need to confirm that something is correct? "mmn" or 對阿 (dui aa) will do the job just fine.
小心 (xiao xin) as my go-to word is new for me, though, and it has the advantage (?) over the others of concerning situations in which you really don't have time to translate before speaking. If you're telling someone to be careful, you usually need to do so immediately--and, really, that's the reason why 小心 made its way into my vocabulary in the first place: being an elementary school teacher gives you ample times when you need to caution people quickly, and be sure that they understand you.
We talked in our Fulbright sessions earlier this year about the tenets of language learning; one of the goals towards which we strive as English teachers is for English words to come naturally. This is referred to in the language teaching community as automaticity. And yes, automaticity is great, and yes, I'm more than a little excited that, for some words at least, Chinese has supplanted English in my mind.
But when, as happened in Australia, I found myself about to caution someone in Chinese, I started wondering about the dangers of these substitutions. No wonder second (or third, or whatever) languages are lost so easily if you don't use them! Seems to me like a natural defense mechanism: if you hold a rarely-used language at the forefront of your mind, you run the risk of not being able to communicate with those around you at a moment's notice--and that is, after all, the main purpose for which language was developed.
I'd just like to take this moment to apologize in advance to all my friends in America, for the moments when Chinese will almost certainly slip from my mouth instead of English. Just give me a few months and, I'm sure, I'll recalibrate.
It happened first with the ubiquitous "mmn"; then "thank you," I think, and spread quickly to "really?" and "yeah!": in my mind, they existed first and foremost in Chinese. Someone gives me something? 謝謝 (Xie xie)! Someone says something unbelievable? 真的嗎 (Zhen de ma)? I need to confirm that something is correct? "mmn" or 對阿 (dui aa) will do the job just fine.
小心 (xiao xin) as my go-to word is new for me, though, and it has the advantage (?) over the others of concerning situations in which you really don't have time to translate before speaking. If you're telling someone to be careful, you usually need to do so immediately--and, really, that's the reason why 小心 made its way into my vocabulary in the first place: being an elementary school teacher gives you ample times when you need to caution people quickly, and be sure that they understand you.
We talked in our Fulbright sessions earlier this year about the tenets of language learning; one of the goals towards which we strive as English teachers is for English words to come naturally. This is referred to in the language teaching community as automaticity. And yes, automaticity is great, and yes, I'm more than a little excited that, for some words at least, Chinese has supplanted English in my mind.
But when, as happened in Australia, I found myself about to caution someone in Chinese, I started wondering about the dangers of these substitutions. No wonder second (or third, or whatever) languages are lost so easily if you don't use them! Seems to me like a natural defense mechanism: if you hold a rarely-used language at the forefront of your mind, you run the risk of not being able to communicate with those around you at a moment's notice--and that is, after all, the main purpose for which language was developed.
I'd just like to take this moment to apologize in advance to all my friends in America, for the moments when Chinese will almost certainly slip from my mouth instead of English. Just give me a few months and, I'm sure, I'll recalibrate.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Being Atayal
Fake pearls hung down in strands from her red and purple headband, milky arrows pointing down to the black lines tattooed on her cheeks. Beneath, stripes of red and purple weave intermingled down her torso; then, after a break for a pair of pale knees, down her legs, to the terminal point: a pair of black Converse. I looked in the mirror at the strange, confused apparition looking back, blonde hair strangely camouflaged with the headband that surrounded it; pale complexion not quite meshing with the garishly bright colors of the costume. I was no Atayal. But it was fun to try to look like one.
Today consisted almost entirely in moments like this, moments of fun and cognitive dissonance as I learned about Taiwan's aboriginal cultures and pondered my own mixed colonizer-and-colonized heritage at the Taiwan Indigenous Culture Park in Pingtung.
Heavy historical identity notes aside, though, it was a lot of fun! James, Margaret, Emily and I watched a singing and dancing performance in the style of the Amis people; we wandered around looking at the many traditional architectures of Taiwan (my favorite is that of the Rukai, which features stacked slate, though the Amis' raised bamboo great rooms are pretty cool as well); we (okay, I) swang on a swing designed way back in the day to keep kids from messing up traditional ceremonies; we made music on traditional instruments; we laughed about the fact that every single replica house had a modern fire extinguisher inside and in easy sight; we tried on chime backpacks and danced around with them on; we saw and heard traditional firecrackers be set off; and, yes, we put on temporary tattoos and traditional clothes and took pictures.
Quite a lovely day, all told. Being Atayal, even if only completely falsely and superficially, is quite a bit of fun!
Today consisted almost entirely in moments like this, moments of fun and cognitive dissonance as I learned about Taiwan's aboriginal cultures and pondered my own mixed colonizer-and-colonized heritage at the Taiwan Indigenous Culture Park in Pingtung.
Heavy historical identity notes aside, though, it was a lot of fun! James, Margaret, Emily and I watched a singing and dancing performance in the style of the Amis people; we wandered around looking at the many traditional architectures of Taiwan (my favorite is that of the Rukai, which features stacked slate, though the Amis' raised bamboo great rooms are pretty cool as well); we (okay, I) swang on a swing designed way back in the day to keep kids from messing up traditional ceremonies; we made music on traditional instruments; we laughed about the fact that every single replica house had a modern fire extinguisher inside and in easy sight; we tried on chime backpacks and danced around with them on; we saw and heard traditional firecrackers be set off; and, yes, we put on temporary tattoos and traditional clothes and took pictures.
 |
| Rukai architecture |
 |
| James and Emily are Seediq (of recent movie fame); Margaret is Saisiat; I'm Atayal; we all have Atayal tattoos. |
 |
| I AM Atayal. Shut up, I was adopted. ;) |
Quite a lovely day, all told. Being Atayal, even if only completely falsely and superficially, is quite a bit of fun!
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Notes
Just got back from a lovely evening with Chialing, which featured delicious street food, milk tea, a Starbucks run (which we've been saying we'd do for months and hadn't), a movie, and more tea. The movie, it should be noted, was entirely in French with Chinese subtitles, so that I spent the majority of it debating whether I'd understand more trying to equate the French with Spanish, or trying to read the rapid-fire Chinese. And the food, while delicious, has left me feeling a bit queasy--just too much of it--so that's it from me tonight. Off to bed.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Back "home" and Internet-less
So here's the thing: my apartment no longer has Internet. As I write this, I'm sitting in Brunch across the street, one eye on my battery meter as it drops closer and closer to the point where it will automatically shut down.
The pros of this situation:
As for today, it consisted almost entirely in travel. I was up and out of my hostel by 6am; one local train, one express train, one flight, two buses, an MRT ride and a walk later, at 5:30pm, I arrived back home in Kaohsiung. Along the way, much ado was made about various forms of cash--I was carrying three (AUD, NTD, Japanese yen)--and trying to keep the coolest coins from each. I ended up making a small purchase specifically so I could get more Japanese change--some of their coins, the value of which I haven't been able to determine, have holes in them!
Another, erm, interesting moment came with the appointment of a sign at the entrance of my Osaka-Taipei flight telling me to "enjoy your "safe" and "comfortable" flight"--hardly encouraging.
AND--and if I had more time/wasn't feeling quite so lazy I would have led with this and made it a post of its own--I realized that hearing spoken Chinese and seeing Chinese signs is a comforting, homelike thing for me now. Being in Japan, even for a very short time, made me remember how awkward it is to not know a single word of the language being spoken around you (especially disorienting was the fact that Japan uses some Chinese characters, though mostly of the simplified variety, in its writing), and it let me see how far I've come in this year in Taiwan. The trilingual announcements at the airport (Japanese/Chinese/English) were great for showing me that I can now safely say I'd probably be alright if they had cut out the English--and that was a wonderful realization.
Well, it's about time I pack up and head back to my Internet-free home--and then get to work packing for my return to my other home.
The pros of this situation:
- Harder to distract myself while packing;
- Much more likely to spend fewer than 8 hours a day on the computer;
- New time requirements for my blog will mean less late-night typing
- I have no Internet in my apartment. That pretty much sums it up, but if you want more, here:
- I have to buy a coffee/tea whenever I want to check my email;
- I have infinitely fewer opportunities to get in contact with people (internationally and nationally; my phone's almost out of funds, too);
- When I start forcing myself back onto a US time schedule (which I'm thinking of doing starting maybe Monday or Tuesday), I'll be up all night with nothing to do;
- Updates and photos will take longer getting posted.
As for today, it consisted almost entirely in travel. I was up and out of my hostel by 6am; one local train, one express train, one flight, two buses, an MRT ride and a walk later, at 5:30pm, I arrived back home in Kaohsiung. Along the way, much ado was made about various forms of cash--I was carrying three (AUD, NTD, Japanese yen)--and trying to keep the coolest coins from each. I ended up making a small purchase specifically so I could get more Japanese change--some of their coins, the value of which I haven't been able to determine, have holes in them!
Another, erm, interesting moment came with the appointment of a sign at the entrance of my Osaka-Taipei flight telling me to "enjoy your "safe" and "comfortable" flight"--hardly encouraging.
AND--and if I had more time/wasn't feeling quite so lazy I would have led with this and made it a post of its own--I realized that hearing spoken Chinese and seeing Chinese signs is a comforting, homelike thing for me now. Being in Japan, even for a very short time, made me remember how awkward it is to not know a single word of the language being spoken around you (especially disorienting was the fact that Japan uses some Chinese characters, though mostly of the simplified variety, in its writing), and it let me see how far I've come in this year in Taiwan. The trilingual announcements at the airport (Japanese/Chinese/English) were great for showing me that I can now safely say I'd probably be alright if they had cut out the English--and that was a wonderful realization.
Well, it's about time I pack up and head back to my Internet-free home--and then get to work packing for my return to my other home.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Adventures in Internationalism
This morning, I cuddled a koala in Cairns and chatted with a girl from South Korea. An hour ago, I ordered a full set meal out of a vending machine in Osaka. I then walked to a 7-11 to use the ATM, and came back with a Starbucks drink called "Seattle latte". And then, a few minutes ago, I checked my Facebook and Gmail to see that I had new contacts from new-made friends from Germany, the Netherlands, Sweden, Belgium and New Zealand waiting for me--and that beside the constant stream of new requests from my Taiwanese students.
This random interlocking of different people, locales and customs might just be my favorite thing about international travel, and, from what I've seen of it, at least, of solo travel specifically. When you're traveling in a group it's easy and natural to stay in that group; when you're traveling alone, you can't help but reach out, see new things, meet new people, and get a much fuller sense of the world as a result.
This is just a short post--it's 11:45pm here in Japan, and I have to leave my hostel by 6am tomorrow if I want to make my flight on time (which I do)--but I thought I'd take advantage of my free Wifi here to make a quick note on my travels, and shed light on why my travels are only just beginning.
 |
| I ordered this... |
 |
| ...using this. |
 |
| Tomorrow morning, I will discover what Japan thinks a Seattle Latte tastes like. Hooray! |
This random interlocking of different people, locales and customs might just be my favorite thing about international travel, and, from what I've seen of it, at least, of solo travel specifically. When you're traveling in a group it's easy and natural to stay in that group; when you're traveling alone, you can't help but reach out, see new things, meet new people, and get a much fuller sense of the world as a result.
This is just a short post--it's 11:45pm here in Japan, and I have to leave my hostel by 6am tomorrow if I want to make my flight on time (which I do)--but I thought I'd take advantage of my free Wifi here to make a quick note on my travels, and shed light on why my travels are only just beginning.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Learning to Breathe like Darth Vader
Scuba diving is now officially my new favorite thing, ever. As I type this I'm laying on my bed in my hostel, but I can still feel the boat rocking beneath me (smoothly, too, though erratically better describes how it actually moved), and whenever I close my eyes I can picture, almost immediately, the gorgeous Moorish idol we saw, and the anemone fish, and the two green turtles.
...Well, so much for saving my stories, I suppose. (But wait, there's more...and I have AMAZING photos to prove (some of) it!)
I very nearly had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, from the Kangaroo Explorer at the end of my third day today--there was still so much to see! I don't think I've ever been happier about a decision than I was, and am, in my choice to have stayed a third day, rather than going home at the end of two. Yesterday, when half of our open water course left, and we said goodbye to Natalie, Michael, Jeroen, and Ellen (and Ellen's sister, Freja, whom we'd met on board), the remainder of us were sad to see them go, but so so so glad we didn't have to go with them. Today, as Lars, Jana (Lars's girlfriend, who was already certified but who hung out with us after classes and on later dives), Anja and I boarded the shuttle back, I'm sure my dive buddy/late OW course joiner, Stuart, felt the same. I'm quite envious of him, still out there, still diving, clear until Friday.
On the ride back, I had a nice little chat with a self-described European girl (Greek/German/English/Italian/French) who has been working on board the dive boat for free, in exchange for training up to instructor status. The guy sitting next to me on the ride back (a snorkeller I'd met on board and also the sole other American on board), Haidang, asked me if I could ever see myself living and working on board a ship. I answered honestly: a year ago, no way; now, maybe! I've fallen in love with Cairns, and with boat life, and with the idea and practice of diving, and it would be stupendous to be able to join all those together into one glorious, several-month-long experience.
Don't freak out (Mom), I'm still coming home. One adventure at a time. But.......you never know! Breathing like Darth Vader's pretty freaking cool.
...Well, so much for saving my stories, I suppose. (But wait, there's more...and I have AMAZING photos to prove (some of) it!)
I very nearly had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, from the Kangaroo Explorer at the end of my third day today--there was still so much to see! I don't think I've ever been happier about a decision than I was, and am, in my choice to have stayed a third day, rather than going home at the end of two. Yesterday, when half of our open water course left, and we said goodbye to Natalie, Michael, Jeroen, and Ellen (and Ellen's sister, Freja, whom we'd met on board), the remainder of us were sad to see them go, but so so so glad we didn't have to go with them. Today, as Lars, Jana (Lars's girlfriend, who was already certified but who hung out with us after classes and on later dives), Anja and I boarded the shuttle back, I'm sure my dive buddy/late OW course joiner, Stuart, felt the same. I'm quite envious of him, still out there, still diving, clear until Friday.
On the ride back, I had a nice little chat with a self-described European girl (Greek/German/English/Italian/French) who has been working on board the dive boat for free, in exchange for training up to instructor status. The guy sitting next to me on the ride back (a snorkeller I'd met on board and also the sole other American on board), Haidang, asked me if I could ever see myself living and working on board a ship. I answered honestly: a year ago, no way; now, maybe! I've fallen in love with Cairns, and with boat life, and with the idea and practice of diving, and it would be stupendous to be able to join all those together into one glorious, several-month-long experience.
Don't freak out (Mom), I'm still coming home. One adventure at a time. But.......you never know! Breathing like Darth Vader's pretty freaking cool.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Automated Dive Message
*Beeeep!*
You have reached the automated voice mailbox of BEKAH. The person you're trying to read about is not available at the moment, as she IS OFF ON A DIVE BOAT AND/OR SCUBA DIVING ABOUT THE GREAT BARRIER REEF. If you'd like to leave a message, please do so by posting a comment. If not, please be informed that regular answering and posting services will resume TOMORROW. Thank you!
*Beeeep!*
You have reached the automated voice mailbox of BEKAH. The person you're trying to read about is not available at the moment, as she IS OFF ON A DIVE BOAT AND/OR SCUBA DIVING ABOUT THE GREAT BARRIER REEF. If you'd like to leave a message, please do so by posting a comment. If not, please be informed that regular answering and posting services will resume TOMORROW. Thank you!
*Beeeep!*
Monday, July 2, 2012
An Experiment in Single Travel
Bus bay 6 was empty. You've got to be kidding me. My plane had landed an hour earlier, at 5:35am, and I had scheduled a pick up--had they left without me? Sleep deprived from my 14 hours of travel, I couldn't bring myself to ask someone when I didn't even know the name of the shuttle--why hadn't I written that down??--so I ponied up and paid to use the Wifi in the lobby, only to discover that, yep, I'd put the the time down right, and nope, this shuttle bus--unimaginatively named Cairns Airport Shuttle--had no one in the lobby or the bus bay. Time to make the call.
But as I awaited my driver, having been assured over the phone that he would be there in 10 minutes (oddly enough, the same amount of time it takes to get to the airport from the heart of Cairns...), I felt my frustrations slipping away as I looked around and realized: I was in Australia. It was dawn, and as I stood waiting I heard a chorus of songbirds, all calling to each other in trills and tralls I'd never heard before; one, landing in the deserted bay beside me, began a complicated dance, its white-tipped tail swinging from side to side as if unhinged from its black body as it hopped about the concrete, eying me with benign curiosity. The sky was turning orange, turning my bird friends to idealized silhouettes, as the bus finally pulled up and I set off to my hostel.
A bit of a rough start to my first-ever solo vacation, maybe, but the morning proved beautiful, though strange. I couldn't check in right away--it was 7am, after all--so I set off toward the Cairns waterfront, where the sun had just risen to reveal a beautiful bay, flanked by a "Caution: salt-water crocodiles" sign and a surprisingly well-used (for 7am) wooden promenade, where I alternately strolled and sat, just soaking up the view. After 14 hours in transit, it was a lot to handle.
So, somewhat surprisingly, were the people. Having lived in Taiwan for the past 11 months, I had laughingly referred to my resultant uneasiness in large groups of "foreigners," but I didn't really anticipate it actually having a serious impact on me once I was back in a Western country. But it did.
The best way I can describe it is that I felt as I imagine autistic people feel when viewing the world: completely overstimulated to the point that I was slightly freaked out even to talk to the people around me. The very thing I'd most mourned being able to do in my time abroad, share a (potentially meaningless) little conversation with someone, now seemed impossibly difficult.
And then there were the accents. I've always been a lover of foreign accents, be they British, Australian, Kiwi, South African--I'm not picky; as long as it doesn't sound like mine, every accent is fantastic. I've never had much trouble understanding them, either--seemed pretty straightforward. But now, dumped in Australia, I felt myself straining to understand the people I spoke with--we were speaking the same language, I knew, but then why was it taking my brain so long to process? Another instance of my Taiwanese experience conspiring against me: I'd become an expert in understanding "Taiwanese English," but at the apparent cost of understanding every other native English dialect beside my own.
At the end of the promenade, I ate alone at a little cafe from which I could just catch a glimpse of the ocean, sitting with my Kindle version of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (yes, that is my holiday reading of choice at the moment) as I munched on an overpriced ham-and-cheese croissant and pondered how it would be, a week of meals alone with my inner monologue and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
As it turned out, not all that solitary. By 10:30, I was checked into my room, a gorgeous girls-only dorm with eight beds built into the walls so that there was a dividing wall between two sets of four; mine lay in the back bottom corner, and was a cozy cave double. Absolutely fantastic. So, too, were my roommates. Over the course of the day, I met them all: Kim, a Brit who was living and working in Cairns; Melanie, a Dutch girl finishing her Masters in Adelaide; Heidi, a Swiss girl (yes, really) who had just finished a study abroad; Johanna, a German girl living in Australia; Kat and Laura, two Brits from Liverpool here on holiday; and Katherine, a fellow American who had recently moved to Australia from, of all places, Portland, Oregon.
For all of its solo ventures (meals, grocery shopping, finalizing my dive school registration), my first day was a day with a surprisingly large amount of companionship.
And that, once I got past my reverse culture shock and airplane exhaustion, has been the best story of my so-called solo journey: surprising and wonderful companionship with strangers. The girls in my dorm, the people in my dive class (Michael, a Belgian; Ellen, a Swede; Jeroen, a Dutchman; two Germans, Natalie and Lars; Anja, a German Kiwi; and Amber, an Aussie (13 years old!))--we all got to just chat, even about inconsequential things, and it's been lovely. So far, at least, my experiment in single travel has not been altogether single--and that suits me just fine.
But as I awaited my driver, having been assured over the phone that he would be there in 10 minutes (oddly enough, the same amount of time it takes to get to the airport from the heart of Cairns...), I felt my frustrations slipping away as I looked around and realized: I was in Australia. It was dawn, and as I stood waiting I heard a chorus of songbirds, all calling to each other in trills and tralls I'd never heard before; one, landing in the deserted bay beside me, began a complicated dance, its white-tipped tail swinging from side to side as if unhinged from its black body as it hopped about the concrete, eying me with benign curiosity. The sky was turning orange, turning my bird friends to idealized silhouettes, as the bus finally pulled up and I set off to my hostel.
A bit of a rough start to my first-ever solo vacation, maybe, but the morning proved beautiful, though strange. I couldn't check in right away--it was 7am, after all--so I set off toward the Cairns waterfront, where the sun had just risen to reveal a beautiful bay, flanked by a "Caution: salt-water crocodiles" sign and a surprisingly well-used (for 7am) wooden promenade, where I alternately strolled and sat, just soaking up the view. After 14 hours in transit, it was a lot to handle.
So, somewhat surprisingly, were the people. Having lived in Taiwan for the past 11 months, I had laughingly referred to my resultant uneasiness in large groups of "foreigners," but I didn't really anticipate it actually having a serious impact on me once I was back in a Western country. But it did.
The best way I can describe it is that I felt as I imagine autistic people feel when viewing the world: completely overstimulated to the point that I was slightly freaked out even to talk to the people around me. The very thing I'd most mourned being able to do in my time abroad, share a (potentially meaningless) little conversation with someone, now seemed impossibly difficult.
And then there were the accents. I've always been a lover of foreign accents, be they British, Australian, Kiwi, South African--I'm not picky; as long as it doesn't sound like mine, every accent is fantastic. I've never had much trouble understanding them, either--seemed pretty straightforward. But now, dumped in Australia, I felt myself straining to understand the people I spoke with--we were speaking the same language, I knew, but then why was it taking my brain so long to process? Another instance of my Taiwanese experience conspiring against me: I'd become an expert in understanding "Taiwanese English," but at the apparent cost of understanding every other native English dialect beside my own.
At the end of the promenade, I ate alone at a little cafe from which I could just catch a glimpse of the ocean, sitting with my Kindle version of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (yes, that is my holiday reading of choice at the moment) as I munched on an overpriced ham-and-cheese croissant and pondered how it would be, a week of meals alone with my inner monologue and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
 |
| Pictured: A WESTERN MEAL! Not pictured (behind the sun flare): the ocean |
For all of its solo ventures (meals, grocery shopping, finalizing my dive school registration), my first day was a day with a surprisingly large amount of companionship.
And that, once I got past my reverse culture shock and airplane exhaustion, has been the best story of my so-called solo journey: surprising and wonderful companionship with strangers. The girls in my dorm, the people in my dive class (Michael, a Belgian; Ellen, a Swede; Jeroen, a Dutchman; two Germans, Natalie and Lars; Anja, a German Kiwi; and Amber, an Aussie (13 years old!))--we all got to just chat, even about inconsequential things, and it's been lovely. So far, at least, my experiment in single travel has not been altogether single--and that suits me just fine.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Unemployed Fulbright Alum
As of today, I am no longer a Fulbright grantee. I am, instead, an unemployed Fulbright alumnus. And, well--so far so good.
I am in Australia now, discovering just how much English I've forgotten over the year (example from 10 minutes ago: "doved?" "diven?" *pause to think* WOW okay "dived"), and meeting scads of people from everywhere from the Netherlands to Germany to Belgium to Sweden to the UK...pretty much getting a full-on European tour just by staying in my hostel and talking to people, really. And, so far, my experiment in solo travel has been absolutely lovely--wonderful roommates, wonderful dive class, wonderful blessings coming my way, ranging from having simply wonderful dorm-mates and a great hostel to getting an AMAZING deal on a dive class/trip--I was given a 300-dollar full-day upgrade for free.
One unfortunate downside of blogging, I've come to realize, is that when I write everything that happens to me, I have no new stories to tell people when they ask me how (insert place/event/"life" here) has been. So that, combined with the fact that I don't have a converter to charge my computer here, and that I'll soon be on a dive boat with no Internet access anyway, means I won't be posting every detail of my trip. Besides, my grant is over! I don't remember when I made the decision to post daily, and I definitely never said when that little experiment in prolific writing will end; it would seem logical to be done now that my grant is. But I think I'll keep pegging away at it, probably, until I come home. And I'll be home soon enough (whether "home" in this instance means Taiwan or USA, both are true), and when you ask me now I'll have fresh tales to tell!
In the meantime, this is more of an explanatory post than anything else. I'm going to try to set up postings for the next few days which will publish at a pre-determined time, so I can stick to this one-a-day format until I'm back in the States, but don't expect too much from them. Or from me--after all, I'm now just an unemployed hostel rat chilling out in Australia.
I am in Australia now, discovering just how much English I've forgotten over the year (example from 10 minutes ago: "doved?" "diven?" *pause to think* WOW okay "dived"), and meeting scads of people from everywhere from the Netherlands to Germany to Belgium to Sweden to the UK...pretty much getting a full-on European tour just by staying in my hostel and talking to people, really. And, so far, my experiment in solo travel has been absolutely lovely--wonderful roommates, wonderful dive class, wonderful blessings coming my way, ranging from having simply wonderful dorm-mates and a great hostel to getting an AMAZING deal on a dive class/trip--I was given a 300-dollar full-day upgrade for free.
One unfortunate downside of blogging, I've come to realize, is that when I write everything that happens to me, I have no new stories to tell people when they ask me how (insert place/event/"life" here) has been. So that, combined with the fact that I don't have a converter to charge my computer here, and that I'll soon be on a dive boat with no Internet access anyway, means I won't be posting every detail of my trip. Besides, my grant is over! I don't remember when I made the decision to post daily, and I definitely never said when that little experiment in prolific writing will end; it would seem logical to be done now that my grant is. But I think I'll keep pegging away at it, probably, until I come home. And I'll be home soon enough (whether "home" in this instance means Taiwan or USA, both are true), and when you ask me now I'll have fresh tales to tell!
In the meantime, this is more of an explanatory post than anything else. I'm going to try to set up postings for the next few days which will publish at a pre-determined time, so I can stick to this one-a-day format until I'm back in the States, but don't expect too much from them. Or from me--after all, I'm now just an unemployed hostel rat chilling out in Australia.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Top 10 Things I Won't Miss About Taiwan
Author's note: I have had a WONDERFUL time in Taiwan; please check out my companion list to this one for proof of that. But I thought it fitting, since I'm leaving, to remind myself of why it's not all bad to be going home--so this was my way of doing that.
10. Having to check all movies etc to make sure they are in English
OK, so this was only actually an issue once, last week when Tiffiany, Rachel and I went to see Brave and left two Chinese-dubbed lines in. But it will be very nice when I won't have to scrutinize every film title and description to be sure it's in English. In general, having English-language media readily available again will be a wonderful thing.
9. Having to watch my vocabulary and speed when talking
I don't particularly mind doing this, and I've gotten quite used to adjusting my speech to the English level of those around me--my students, for instance--but it will be much easier when I can turn that part of my brain off and just talk.
8. Being dirty all the time
In the same category: having my clothes get dirty all the time; having my shoes get dirty all the time; having my apartment be dirty all the time. No amount of caution or cleaning can help you when it's in the air.
7. Cockroaches
*Shudder* 'Nuff said.
6. Scootering in the rain
I love scootering--when it's nice out. When it's not, well...just see the last post I wrote on the subject. Being the constant subject of showers of street water is not exactly my idea of a good time.
5. Not being able to find potatoes on any menu, ever
I love potatoes. When asked my favorite food, that is usually my answer. So, when the only variety you can ever find them in is french fried, and that rarely, I get a little sad. And then a lot sad. Really, Taiwan, you're missing out on an amazing food here!
4. Being surrounded by bad drivers on poorly designed streets
I've written before my conclusions of why scootering in Taiwan is so difficult. Several times, actually. What it boils down to is this: badly designed roads and people who don't pay attention to things like right-of-way or the traffic laws. I won't miss that. (And yes, I realize that in conjunction with what I said yesterday, this makes me a massive hypocrite. I don't care.)
3. Having bones and skin and fat make up the majority of every "meat" dish on any menu
In America, we like our meat as meat only: no skin (too much fat!), no bones (too much work!), no fat (see "no skin"). In Taiwan, they're much better about not wasting things (and/or have less of a market for our other uses for these materials, like hot dogs, perhaps?), and so a slab of "meat" is never a slab: it's a little crosscut of a bone, whichever bone they had handy; your job is to get the bits off it that you like and leave the rest. I will like having "meat" mean just "meat" again.
2. Being drenched in sweat within 5 minutes of walking outside
I'm from the Pacific Northwest. I don't particularly like sweating, and less still do I like having heat dictate how I dress and how I look--that is, never well. I get quite excited in Taiwan when I'm being picked up (in a car!!) to go somewhere inside (air-conditioning!!), and so can do things like put on makeup and do my hair without the knowledge that it will all be for naught the instant I put on my scooter helmet or walk the few blocks to wherever I'm going.
1. Not being able to communicate above a very basic level
I've written about this more times than I can count, and certainly more times than I'd like to cross-reference for you now: it is so terribly hard sometimes not to be able to talk to most of the people you come across.Your world becomes very small, excepting the Internet, consisting of the few friends you have that speak English and the few places where you know you can communicate in Chinese--some well-trusted restaurants, for instance, and a single bank. Going anywhere else or doing anything else requires a massive effort, and even when you make that effort, is often incredibly frustrating and may or may not end in success. One very small example is in the realm of small talk, which I wrote about before--I feel so rude not making small talk with people I come across! And yet, the terrible truth is that, at least at the moment, I have no choice in Taiwan. And I won't miss that.
10. Having to check all movies etc to make sure they are in English
OK, so this was only actually an issue once, last week when Tiffiany, Rachel and I went to see Brave and left two Chinese-dubbed lines in. But it will be very nice when I won't have to scrutinize every film title and description to be sure it's in English. In general, having English-language media readily available again will be a wonderful thing.
9. Having to watch my vocabulary and speed when talking
I don't particularly mind doing this, and I've gotten quite used to adjusting my speech to the English level of those around me--my students, for instance--but it will be much easier when I can turn that part of my brain off and just talk.
8. Being dirty all the time
In the same category: having my clothes get dirty all the time; having my shoes get dirty all the time; having my apartment be dirty all the time. No amount of caution or cleaning can help you when it's in the air.
7. Cockroaches
*Shudder* 'Nuff said.
6. Scootering in the rain
I love scootering--when it's nice out. When it's not, well...just see the last post I wrote on the subject. Being the constant subject of showers of street water is not exactly my idea of a good time.
5. Not being able to find potatoes on any menu, ever
I love potatoes. When asked my favorite food, that is usually my answer. So, when the only variety you can ever find them in is french fried, and that rarely, I get a little sad. And then a lot sad. Really, Taiwan, you're missing out on an amazing food here!
4. Being surrounded by bad drivers on poorly designed streets
I've written before my conclusions of why scootering in Taiwan is so difficult. Several times, actually. What it boils down to is this: badly designed roads and people who don't pay attention to things like right-of-way or the traffic laws. I won't miss that. (And yes, I realize that in conjunction with what I said yesterday, this makes me a massive hypocrite. I don't care.)
3. Having bones and skin and fat make up the majority of every "meat" dish on any menu
In America, we like our meat as meat only: no skin (too much fat!), no bones (too much work!), no fat (see "no skin"). In Taiwan, they're much better about not wasting things (and/or have less of a market for our other uses for these materials, like hot dogs, perhaps?), and so a slab of "meat" is never a slab: it's a little crosscut of a bone, whichever bone they had handy; your job is to get the bits off it that you like and leave the rest. I will like having "meat" mean just "meat" again.
2. Being drenched in sweat within 5 minutes of walking outside
I'm from the Pacific Northwest. I don't particularly like sweating, and less still do I like having heat dictate how I dress and how I look--that is, never well. I get quite excited in Taiwan when I'm being picked up (in a car!!) to go somewhere inside (air-conditioning!!), and so can do things like put on makeup and do my hair without the knowledge that it will all be for naught the instant I put on my scooter helmet or walk the few blocks to wherever I'm going.
1. Not being able to communicate above a very basic level
I've written about this more times than I can count, and certainly more times than I'd like to cross-reference for you now: it is so terribly hard sometimes not to be able to talk to most of the people you come across.Your world becomes very small, excepting the Internet, consisting of the few friends you have that speak English and the few places where you know you can communicate in Chinese--some well-trusted restaurants, for instance, and a single bank. Going anywhere else or doing anything else requires a massive effort, and even when you make that effort, is often incredibly frustrating and may or may not end in success. One very small example is in the realm of small talk, which I wrote about before--I feel so rude not making small talk with people I come across! And yet, the terrible truth is that, at least at the moment, I have no choice in Taiwan. And I won't miss that.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Top 10 Things I'll Miss About Taiwan
10. My students, my co-teachers, my colleagues, my friends...
This one is obviously actually #1, but it's far too serious to put as my ending note. So, this is actually the thing I will miss the absolute most about Taiwan...but I don't have the heart to put it there. I love my students; I love my co-teachers; I love my colleagues; I love my friends here, and I don't want to think about the fact that I'm leaving then soon. *ahem* Movingon.
9. Standing out in every crowd
It gets annoying at times, but it's still kind of cool to be The Foreigner, worthy of stares and smiles and awe. And I'm not gonna lie, it's nice getting "你很漂亮啊" all the time from strangers. I won't quite know how to deal with blending in again...
8. The ability to pop up to Taipei or Taitung on a whim, or to fly to Thailand in just 6 hours or so
I've mentioned this before, but I have absolutely LOVED the ability to travel that this year has given me, coupled with an absolutely fantastic array of locations at my feet.
7. Living amongst the nicest people on the planet
I genuinely believe this to be true. I have NEVER met more kindhearted people than the Taiwanese locals, especially Kaohsiung locals, are. It's partly Southern hospitality (the same the world over), but mostly just an ingrained wonderful friendliness all over the island of Taiwan. They are simply wonderful.
6. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon off work
This was just a lovely quirk of my schedule all year: no class after noon three days a week. Never gonna get THAT again!
5. Playing the foreigner card
Not being able to communicate definitely has its upside. This is it: the foreigner card. "I don't understand!" Annnnnd you can now do anything you want.
4. Drinking ALL THE TEA
I didn't even drink tea before I came to Taiwan. But I will miss all the fabulous varieties of tea I've grown to love this year, and will no doubt try to replicate them on my own: grapefruit green tea, Oolong milk tea, Earl Grey milk tea (at least this one I can still get at home), yogurt green tea, mango green tea, the list goes on...and I will always remember being the sole one still ordering it iced when the temperature dropped to a "frigid" 60F or so.
3. Beautiful sunshiney days on my scooter
When the sun is out, my scooter is perfect. Wind in my hair, zipping along, getting tanned (avoiding the slowpokes...); in essence, perfection.
2. Fresh fruit, everywhere, all the time
Taiwan's fruit is the best thing ever. EVER. And it's cheap. I will forever miss being able to go down to the fruit stand on a whim and buy pineapples, mangoes, and watermelon and for less than 3USD.
1. Driving like a maniac with no repercussions
'Nuff said. Here's hoping I readjust before I get buried in tickets at home...
This one is obviously actually #1, but it's far too serious to put as my ending note. So, this is actually the thing I will miss the absolute most about Taiwan...but I don't have the heart to put it there. I love my students; I love my co-teachers; I love my colleagues; I love my friends here, and I don't want to think about the fact that I'm leaving then soon. *ahem* Movingon.
9. Standing out in every crowd
It gets annoying at times, but it's still kind of cool to be The Foreigner, worthy of stares and smiles and awe. And I'm not gonna lie, it's nice getting "你很漂亮啊" all the time from strangers. I won't quite know how to deal with blending in again...
8. The ability to pop up to Taipei or Taitung on a whim, or to fly to Thailand in just 6 hours or so
I've mentioned this before, but I have absolutely LOVED the ability to travel that this year has given me, coupled with an absolutely fantastic array of locations at my feet.
7. Living amongst the nicest people on the planet
I genuinely believe this to be true. I have NEVER met more kindhearted people than the Taiwanese locals, especially Kaohsiung locals, are. It's partly Southern hospitality (the same the world over), but mostly just an ingrained wonderful friendliness all over the island of Taiwan. They are simply wonderful.
6. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon off work
This was just a lovely quirk of my schedule all year: no class after noon three days a week. Never gonna get THAT again!
5. Playing the foreigner card
Not being able to communicate definitely has its upside. This is it: the foreigner card. "I don't understand!" Annnnnd you can now do anything you want.
4. Drinking ALL THE TEA
I didn't even drink tea before I came to Taiwan. But I will miss all the fabulous varieties of tea I've grown to love this year, and will no doubt try to replicate them on my own: grapefruit green tea, Oolong milk tea, Earl Grey milk tea (at least this one I can still get at home), yogurt green tea, mango green tea, the list goes on...and I will always remember being the sole one still ordering it iced when the temperature dropped to a "frigid" 60F or so.
3. Beautiful sunshiney days on my scooter
When the sun is out, my scooter is perfect. Wind in my hair, zipping along, getting tanned (avoiding the slowpokes...); in essence, perfection.
2. Fresh fruit, everywhere, all the time
Taiwan's fruit is the best thing ever. EVER. And it's cheap. I will forever miss being able to go down to the fruit stand on a whim and buy pineapples, mangoes, and watermelon and for less than 3USD.
1. Driving like a maniac with no repercussions
'Nuff said. Here's hoping I readjust before I get buried in tickets at home...
So...yeah.
This is a post. It is from June 28. It was DEFINITELY NOT written June 29. Not at all. Nope. No sir.
In my defense, I had no Internet access for the majority of the day yesterday, so...there's that. Also, not much I want to write about from then. So...there's that, too. Internet's spotty even now, so...actually, that's it for now!
In my defense, I had no Internet access for the majority of the day yesterday, so...there's that. Also, not much I want to write about from then. So...there's that, too. Internet's spotty even now, so...actually, that's it for now!
Thursday, June 28, 2012
ETAs
Karina's at our apartment tonight--right now, she and Brittany are watching a horror movie in the living room, which bodes ill for my night's sleep, but oh well. This will be the last time Brittany, Karina, Rachel and I are in the same place in Taiwan at the same time. It's a fitting bookend to the year.
The time has come for ETA goodbyes. We said goodbye to Analicia Monday; Samia and Andrew are home; Lydia and Emily leave tomorrow; traveling schedules mean I've probably inadvertently said goodbye to Tiffiany, Steven, and Esther. Our little group is splitting up.
And I don't have time to talk about it. No eulogizing here, at least not now: it's 2am, and I actually have to get up at a decent hour. But I will say this: our group has been different from past groups, more individualistic, and sometimes frustrating, but I still feel like we've had an excellent bunch of people here, and a bunch I will be sad to no longer have as colleagues. It's been quite a year, and I'm sad to see it end.
The time has come for ETA goodbyes. We said goodbye to Analicia Monday; Samia and Andrew are home; Lydia and Emily leave tomorrow; traveling schedules mean I've probably inadvertently said goodbye to Tiffiany, Steven, and Esther. Our little group is splitting up.
And I don't have time to talk about it. No eulogizing here, at least not now: it's 2am, and I actually have to get up at a decent hour. But I will say this: our group has been different from past groups, more individualistic, and sometimes frustrating, but I still feel like we've had an excellent bunch of people here, and a bunch I will be sad to no longer have as colleagues. It's been quite a year, and I'm sad to see it end.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Choosing What to Keep
I leave Taiwan very, very soon. This fact dictates my entire existence right now; every moment of my day which is not spent preparing directly for this event is spent in the knowledge that it probably should be. There's no longer any question of denial: it is what it is, and it's time I face facts. I'm going home. Soon.
I mentioned a few days ago that my packing process involves an awful lot of throwing stuff out. If you know me, you know that that is absolutely, 100% not in my nature. I'm not saying I'm a pack rat or anything, but actually I totally am a pack rat. Just look--no, just kidding, please don't look--in my childhood bedroom closet. There (and in the attic, since my room has been repurposed a few times since I moved out) you will find an archival record of my life, told through physical artifacts. My favorite toy from when I was 8, a cool art project from when I was 12, my high school English papers--they're all there, if you just look.
But here's the thing--I almost never do. Because, at the end of the day, there's rarely a reason to look back and see exactly what it is that I wrote about Catch-22 in that one paper, or exactly what my handwriting looked like when I was 5. It may be nice to have a few indicators of the different stages in life, sure, but ultimately the stuff that crowds the upper shelves of my closet is just that: stuff that crowds my closet. And, in some instances, my suitcase.
Having an imposed weight limit (set not just by the airlines, but by my budgetary rejection of excess baggage fees) has been hugely helpful in helping me see my pack rat tendencies for what they are: an unnecessary reliance on things to describe my experiences. I'm not saying I'm going to go through and trash what I have, but going forward, it's immensely freeing to be able to look at a pile of Chinese writing I've done, or my favorite bag since freshman year of college (the zipper of which recently broke, and which is otherwise well-loved throughout), or first-ever Fulbright name tag with "百合" printed on it, and realize that they belong in the trash, and that putting them there does nothing to dampen my memories.
My trash can is overflowing with such realizations.
And it doesn't bother me, not in the slightest, because of all the things that will come home with me--all the intangibles, which fortunately don't weigh in at the airport, since if they did I don't think my life savings would begin to put a dent in those fees. Choosing what to keep is easy when you realize you don't even have a choice on the important stuff.
Stuff like meeting Karina and her friend Satomi for shave ice (which I didn't end up getting to eat), and realizing that I now know Kaohsiung well enough to navigate on autopilot. And like being taken out to dinner by Alison, Maggie, Fiona and Patty, who took me to a Thai restaurant because it's my favorite, and who dared to brave spiciness beyond their comfort level to do so. And like getting waffles with Rachel and Chialing, despite being still full from dinner, just so we could have another little bit to sit around a picture-laminated table and take silly photos of Chialing's nephew's dog.
This is what I'm taking home; this is what matters:
As for the rest--no need to add to my rat's nest.
I mentioned a few days ago that my packing process involves an awful lot of throwing stuff out. If you know me, you know that that is absolutely, 100% not in my nature. I'm not saying I'm a pack rat or anything, but actually I totally am a pack rat. Just look--no, just kidding, please don't look--in my childhood bedroom closet. There (and in the attic, since my room has been repurposed a few times since I moved out) you will find an archival record of my life, told through physical artifacts. My favorite toy from when I was 8, a cool art project from when I was 12, my high school English papers--they're all there, if you just look.
But here's the thing--I almost never do. Because, at the end of the day, there's rarely a reason to look back and see exactly what it is that I wrote about Catch-22 in that one paper, or exactly what my handwriting looked like when I was 5. It may be nice to have a few indicators of the different stages in life, sure, but ultimately the stuff that crowds the upper shelves of my closet is just that: stuff that crowds my closet. And, in some instances, my suitcase.
Having an imposed weight limit (set not just by the airlines, but by my budgetary rejection of excess baggage fees) has been hugely helpful in helping me see my pack rat tendencies for what they are: an unnecessary reliance on things to describe my experiences. I'm not saying I'm going to go through and trash what I have, but going forward, it's immensely freeing to be able to look at a pile of Chinese writing I've done, or my favorite bag since freshman year of college (the zipper of which recently broke, and which is otherwise well-loved throughout), or first-ever Fulbright name tag with "百合" printed on it, and realize that they belong in the trash, and that putting them there does nothing to dampen my memories.
My trash can is overflowing with such realizations.
And it doesn't bother me, not in the slightest, because of all the things that will come home with me--all the intangibles, which fortunately don't weigh in at the airport, since if they did I don't think my life savings would begin to put a dent in those fees. Choosing what to keep is easy when you realize you don't even have a choice on the important stuff.
Stuff like meeting Karina and her friend Satomi for shave ice (which I didn't end up getting to eat), and realizing that I now know Kaohsiung well enough to navigate on autopilot. And like being taken out to dinner by Alison, Maggie, Fiona and Patty, who took me to a Thai restaurant because it's my favorite, and who dared to brave spiciness beyond their comfort level to do so. And like getting waffles with Rachel and Chialing, despite being still full from dinner, just so we could have another little bit to sit around a picture-laminated table and take silly photos of Chialing's nephew's dog.
This is what I'm taking home; this is what matters:
As for the rest--no need to add to my rat's nest.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
NOT the last supper
Packing began in earnest today, but I won't bore you with accounts of buying a box and bubble wrap. The real highlight of my day came tonight, when my host family picked me up for dinner. Please note the very deliberate avoidance of the phrase "last dinner," because it absolutely CAN NOT BE. I'm not ready for that.
But, they did bring me some wonderful little going-away presents, all Taiwan themed, including gorgeous earrings, a fun bottle opener shaped like a face, and several nice bookmarks. They're absolutely lovely.
And so was dinner! We went to the Howard Plaza Hotel restaurant, which served up a buffet-style meal with Western options like roast beef (insert happy Bekah), and salad with more than one kind of lettuce (insert VERY happy Bekah), and even blocks of a variety of fancy cheeses, amongst many, many other delicious foodstuffs that put my recent munching habits to shame.
And of course the best part of all, as always, was the conversation. By the time we left, we'd been at the restaurant for over two hours; all the servers were cleaning up, the food was all put away, and only one group remained seated elsewhere. Lovely. I love these people!
But, they did bring me some wonderful little going-away presents, all Taiwan themed, including gorgeous earrings, a fun bottle opener shaped like a face, and several nice bookmarks. They're absolutely lovely.
And so was dinner! We went to the Howard Plaza Hotel restaurant, which served up a buffet-style meal with Western options like roast beef (insert happy Bekah), and salad with more than one kind of lettuce (insert VERY happy Bekah), and even blocks of a variety of fancy cheeses, amongst many, many other delicious foodstuffs that put my recent munching habits to shame.
 |
| Describing all the deliciousness on this (admittedly not that great-looking picture of a) plate would just make me hungry. But look, pesto-tomato-mozarella salad!!! |
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| Non-iceberg salad! |
Monday, June 25, 2012
Murphy's Law
I woke up today with simple plans. Here's how things were supposed to go down: 1) Meet Karina to see The Hunger Games in the afternoon; 2) Come home and eat dinner; 3) Meet Mandy, Rachel and Tiffiany to see Brave. Too bad it was one of those days where nothing goes according to plan.
Here's how things actually played out.
1) I rolled over, turned off my alarm, and willed myself into a sitting position. It was time to get up. Wait, when was I supposed to be meeting Karina? How much time did I have to get stuff done before I actually had to go? I shot off a text and drifted almost back to sleep. My phone buzzed: Karina, saying she couldn't make it because she had too much stuff to do. Oh. Okay. Just the one movie today, then.
2) I had eaten at awkward times all day, so I didn't really feel the call to eat anything until about a quarter till 7. Feeling lazy, and a little Taiwanese, there was only one obvious choice for where to procure my delicious foodstuffs: 7-11. I meandered down, grabbed some frozen pasta and frozen pork buns and some watermelon milk--dinner of champions!--and headed back upstairs to prepare my dinner for eating, (read: nuke it). That accomplished, I was chatting with Rachel when my phone rang. I looked at the screen: Hal, my tutee. I looked at the clock: 7:05. Crap.
Yep, after a full four months or so of having a tutoring session every Sunday at 7pm, never missing a session and never being late, I had completely forgotten about our last session ever. And that, even with the fact that I'd prepared a little gift as a going-away present for Hal, a gift I'd thought about both earlier in the day and earlier the previous day, as I had made conflicting movie-going plans with Mandy and Tiffiany. Whoops. Hal was gracious as I arrived 15 minutes late, and was even willing to put up with my request that we cut the length of our session from an hour and a half to an hour, so I could leave in just enough time to make the movie with Mandy, Tiffiany, Rachel, and Chialing, whom Rachel'd invited. It would work.
3) Partway through my session with Hal, I got a text from Mandy saying that the wedding she'd been invited to (and which had, thankfully, already moved our movie time back from 6-something to 8-something, or my session with Hal would have been COMPLETELY derailed) had been delayed to the point where it hadn't even started yet, so she wouldn't be able to come. Sadface. After I finished up with Hal, I rushed home to find Rachel waiting for me downstairs, lest we miss the beginning of the movie, with the news that Chialing also wouldn't be able to come. Again, sadface.
So Rachel and I jetted off into the night and, after a few quick U-turns, found the movie theater we were looking for, retrieved our tickets from Tiffiany, and sat down in the correct theater right as the movie began. There was only one problem: the movie was in Chinese. Not just with Chinese subtitles, but dubbed in Chinese. And, call me crazy, but when I, as a native English speaker, go to see a movie set in Scotland, it just isn't the same without the Scottish accents. We left within three or four lines.
But we didn't go far--Rachel found an employee in the hall and asked her if they had Brave playing in English (it's really not uncommon here, I promise: most theaters I've seen have popular American movies like this offered in both languages, with Chinese subtitles under all of them). They didn't. BUT, she was quick to point out, we could exchange our tickets for another film playing just then--they had an English version of Men In Black 3 that began in just a few minutes. So we exchanged our tickets and took the elevator to the third floor. They told us it was on the fourth, but when we made it to the third and didn't immediately get off we were met with several employees frantically waving at us to get off here, from which I gather that if we had continued up in the elevator, rather than the stairs they pointed us to, we would have been victims to some sort of Tower-of-Terror-style horrors or something.
So, to recap: I began the day thinking I would have a leisurely time of watching two movies, including an animated one with Scottish accents, with five friends, with plenty of time between in which to do nothing, and I ended it having nearly missed a work appointment, and having watched, with two friends, one movie, including not a single fierce animated Scottish girl, but with no dearth of aliens and Will Smith. And, in the process, we all managed to make a little bit of a fool of ourselves in front of everyone. Hooray, Murphy's Law!
Here's how things actually played out.
1) I rolled over, turned off my alarm, and willed myself into a sitting position. It was time to get up. Wait, when was I supposed to be meeting Karina? How much time did I have to get stuff done before I actually had to go? I shot off a text and drifted almost back to sleep. My phone buzzed: Karina, saying she couldn't make it because she had too much stuff to do. Oh. Okay. Just the one movie today, then.
2) I had eaten at awkward times all day, so I didn't really feel the call to eat anything until about a quarter till 7. Feeling lazy, and a little Taiwanese, there was only one obvious choice for where to procure my delicious foodstuffs: 7-11. I meandered down, grabbed some frozen pasta and frozen pork buns and some watermelon milk--dinner of champions!--and headed back upstairs to prepare my dinner for eating, (read: nuke it). That accomplished, I was chatting with Rachel when my phone rang. I looked at the screen: Hal, my tutee. I looked at the clock: 7:05. Crap.
Yep, after a full four months or so of having a tutoring session every Sunday at 7pm, never missing a session and never being late, I had completely forgotten about our last session ever. And that, even with the fact that I'd prepared a little gift as a going-away present for Hal, a gift I'd thought about both earlier in the day and earlier the previous day, as I had made conflicting movie-going plans with Mandy and Tiffiany. Whoops. Hal was gracious as I arrived 15 minutes late, and was even willing to put up with my request that we cut the length of our session from an hour and a half to an hour, so I could leave in just enough time to make the movie with Mandy, Tiffiany, Rachel, and Chialing, whom Rachel'd invited. It would work.
3) Partway through my session with Hal, I got a text from Mandy saying that the wedding she'd been invited to (and which had, thankfully, already moved our movie time back from 6-something to 8-something, or my session with Hal would have been COMPLETELY derailed) had been delayed to the point where it hadn't even started yet, so she wouldn't be able to come. Sadface. After I finished up with Hal, I rushed home to find Rachel waiting for me downstairs, lest we miss the beginning of the movie, with the news that Chialing also wouldn't be able to come. Again, sadface.
So Rachel and I jetted off into the night and, after a few quick U-turns, found the movie theater we were looking for, retrieved our tickets from Tiffiany, and sat down in the correct theater right as the movie began. There was only one problem: the movie was in Chinese. Not just with Chinese subtitles, but dubbed in Chinese. And, call me crazy, but when I, as a native English speaker, go to see a movie set in Scotland, it just isn't the same without the Scottish accents. We left within three or four lines.
But we didn't go far--Rachel found an employee in the hall and asked her if they had Brave playing in English (it's really not uncommon here, I promise: most theaters I've seen have popular American movies like this offered in both languages, with Chinese subtitles under all of them). They didn't. BUT, she was quick to point out, we could exchange our tickets for another film playing just then--they had an English version of Men In Black 3 that began in just a few minutes. So we exchanged our tickets and took the elevator to the third floor. They told us it was on the fourth, but when we made it to the third and didn't immediately get off we were met with several employees frantically waving at us to get off here, from which I gather that if we had continued up in the elevator, rather than the stairs they pointed us to, we would have been victims to some sort of Tower-of-Terror-style horrors or something.
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| We went to see this... |
| And somehow got this instead. |
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Life
Wow, it does NOT feel like 3am. And that is a VERY bad thing for my sleep cycles. But, also, a not-so-bad thing for my blog.
I had a pretty decent day, all considered. Watched most of a Scottish miniseries starring David Tennant--which, obviously, made me want to throw all my stuff in a bag and MOVE THERE NOW, though I resisted. FINALLY turned in my application for what I might do come September--and then accidentally half-way applied to a job in New York, which was odd. And grotesquely ironic: this job was posted on the website for a major publisher, and was one of FOUR fantastic jobs now posted on that site for which I may actually be qualified. Of course, I found them directly after mentally committing to another program. Sigh. Now to determine whether I should apply to them anyway...probably?
But the highlight of my day was easily my dinner plans. I met up with Tiffiany and our Chinese teacher, Mandy, at a great little Western-style restaurant on the Love River called Sandwich Island (and, stupid person that I am, I completely spaced that the dragon boat races going on would mean parking would be impossible--so I was 15 minutes late). The food was scrumptious, of course (fried chicken sandwich--mmm), and Mandy was so sweet--she brought Tiffiany and I some fantastic going away presents! Cue the part where I wish I'd brought more gifts to give away...
So we had our little meal, and then strolled along the Love River with the hordes of other people, watching dragon boat-ers who DIDN'T suck. And Tiffiany utilized her Chinese to ask a very nervous (but adorable) little girl to take our picture:
Next up was some continued strolling and a stop by my personal favorite Kaohsiung gelato place--two scoops for 100NT (~3USD) of some of the BEST gelato ever. Tonight, I went for dark cherry and mulberry (2 separate flavors) and they were to DIE for. Then we kept strolling.
And, thankfully, this ISN'T actually going to be our last hang-out like we'd originally thought. We made plans to go see BRAVE tomorrow (wow, I'm big on the Caps Lock tonight...sorry about that). Brave, for those who don't know, is this:
All I have to say is: Disney/Pixar? Check. Scottish? Check. Archery? Check. COUNT ME IN!
I had a pretty decent day, all considered. Watched most of a Scottish miniseries starring David Tennant--which, obviously, made me want to throw all my stuff in a bag and MOVE THERE NOW, though I resisted. FINALLY turned in my application for what I might do come September--and then accidentally half-way applied to a job in New York, which was odd. And grotesquely ironic: this job was posted on the website for a major publisher, and was one of FOUR fantastic jobs now posted on that site for which I may actually be qualified. Of course, I found them directly after mentally committing to another program. Sigh. Now to determine whether I should apply to them anyway...probably?
But the highlight of my day was easily my dinner plans. I met up with Tiffiany and our Chinese teacher, Mandy, at a great little Western-style restaurant on the Love River called Sandwich Island (and, stupid person that I am, I completely spaced that the dragon boat races going on would mean parking would be impossible--so I was 15 minutes late). The food was scrumptious, of course (fried chicken sandwich--mmm), and Mandy was so sweet--she brought Tiffiany and I some fantastic going away presents! Cue the part where I wish I'd brought more gifts to give away...
So we had our little meal, and then strolled along the Love River with the hordes of other people, watching dragon boat-ers who DIDN'T suck. And Tiffiany utilized her Chinese to ask a very nervous (but adorable) little girl to take our picture:
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| Extra smiles for our new 小朋友! |
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| It's so PRETTY when you're not being forced down it with paddles in your hands! |
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| Hey look, they're winning by almost as much as we lost by! (butnotreally) |
And, thankfully, this ISN'T actually going to be our last hang-out like we'd originally thought. We made plans to go see BRAVE tomorrow (wow, I'm big on the Caps Lock tonight...sorry about that). Brave, for those who don't know, is this:
All I have to say is: Disney/Pixar? Check. Scottish? Check. Archery? Check. COUNT ME IN!
Saturday, June 23, 2012
The End
This is hard to write. Today was my last day in my schools. I am no longer an English teacher. Every sentence I put on here sounds stilted, unreal, and that's actually quite fitting: it doesn't feel real at all.
Today was one of the most chill days I've ever had at my schools. I arrived at Qingshan at regular time, 8:30, and discovered that, a) graduation had been moved from that night to that morning at 9:30, and, b) all the 5th graders had been instructed to sit in the courtyard for the next hour until the ceremony began. So, there went English class.
We hung around for an hour, then went to the ceremony, which included a very solemn march of the 6th graders around the courtyard, several speeches and awards, and, of course, Zoe's English speech. Fortunately for me, the Director forgot to ask me to introduce her, so I managed to make it through this graduation without taking the stage, apart from a generalized "thank you" to teachers. It was really a very nice ceremony, with lovely little moments like the 5th graders singing a farewell to the 6th graders, and the 6th graders singing a welcome to the 5th graders. Very sweet.
Afterwards, Patty and I went back up to our classroom to discover that our classes would continue to be cancelled, so that the kids could clean up the courtyard. In the end, we had our last class of the day for about 20 minutes, and that was it.
But of course, that couldn't be it! Patty was nice enough to postpone her lunch and take me around to the 5th grade homerooms, so I could get a picture with all of my students one last time, and give them each a lollipop. These visits also, of course, included an extraordinary amount of signing--not just of papers this time, but of pencil cases, bags, and desk mats. One boy gave me a massive bunch of balloons from the graduation ceremony; one girl, Kelly, gave me a note which read "Don't go back to America stay at 5th grade forever! Please! Please!!"
As I drove away, a small contingent of kiddos waved me off from the third story. But still, even now, it's impossible to believe the truth: that was the end.
My eyes threaten to close on their own accord and never open again (to be honest, I've typed the last several sentences with them closed anyway), but I would be remiss if I didn't mention our epic THIRD PLACE FINISH in dragon boat racing tonight! I should really just leave it at that: we got third pace in our heat. I really shouldn't go on to explain that there were a total of three boats in our heat, and we lost to the next slowest by a full 55 seconds. But that also happened.
Oh well, we did at least finish the race, and make it back without holding up the race schedule, as has happened in the past. And afterwards we all ate watermelons and took pictures while Esther, Lydia, Paul and Alex frolicked in the rain; after that, Fonda, Chialing, Rachel an I, along with Evelyn and some of her friends, went to Chialing's cousin's place for some delicious papaya milk. So that was good.
Today was one of the most chill days I've ever had at my schools. I arrived at Qingshan at regular time, 8:30, and discovered that, a) graduation had been moved from that night to that morning at 9:30, and, b) all the 5th graders had been instructed to sit in the courtyard for the next hour until the ceremony began. So, there went English class.
We hung around for an hour, then went to the ceremony, which included a very solemn march of the 6th graders around the courtyard, several speeches and awards, and, of course, Zoe's English speech. Fortunately for me, the Director forgot to ask me to introduce her, so I managed to make it through this graduation without taking the stage, apart from a generalized "thank you" to teachers. It was really a very nice ceremony, with lovely little moments like the 5th graders singing a farewell to the 6th graders, and the 6th graders singing a welcome to the 5th graders. Very sweet.
Afterwards, Patty and I went back up to our classroom to discover that our classes would continue to be cancelled, so that the kids could clean up the courtyard. In the end, we had our last class of the day for about 20 minutes, and that was it.
But of course, that couldn't be it! Patty was nice enough to postpone her lunch and take me around to the 5th grade homerooms, so I could get a picture with all of my students one last time, and give them each a lollipop. These visits also, of course, included an extraordinary amount of signing--not just of papers this time, but of pencil cases, bags, and desk mats. One boy gave me a massive bunch of balloons from the graduation ceremony; one girl, Kelly, gave me a note which read "Don't go back to America stay at 5th grade forever! Please! Please!!"
As I drove away, a small contingent of kiddos waved me off from the third story. But still, even now, it's impossible to believe the truth: that was the end.
My eyes threaten to close on their own accord and never open again (to be honest, I've typed the last several sentences with them closed anyway), but I would be remiss if I didn't mention our epic THIRD PLACE FINISH in dragon boat racing tonight! I should really just leave it at that: we got third pace in our heat. I really shouldn't go on to explain that there were a total of three boats in our heat, and we lost to the next slowest by a full 55 seconds. But that also happened.
Oh well, we did at least finish the race, and make it back without holding up the race schedule, as has happened in the past. And afterwards we all ate watermelons and took pictures while Esther, Lydia, Paul and Alex frolicked in the rain; after that, Fonda, Chialing, Rachel an I, along with Evelyn and some of her friends, went to Chialing's cousin's place for some delicious papaya milk. So that was good.
Friday, June 22, 2012
If you could do anything...
...what would you do? I feel like this is a fairly common question for people; it's used as a check-your-heart exercise to see if you're pursuing what really matters to you, and as the days of my grant rush towards their termination point, I find myself mulling it over, to somewhat surprising results.
If I could do anything in the world, what would I do? I would be an actress.
Depending on how long you've known me (or if you know me at all), you may know that when I was growing up, acting was my thing. At age 5, my mom tells me, I memorized the lead part's lines in a church musical--before the auditions. Not surprisingly, since I was 5, I lost that particular part to a 12-year-old, but it did little to dampen my desire. From age 5 till age 18, my happiest moments were on stage. Church musicals, a middle-school Shakespeare troupe, a variety of plays and musicals in high school; I couldn't get enough.
Then college hit, bringing with it the realization that, in the real world, you just don't have enough time to act when your hours are eaten up working to pay for tuition, room, and board, and throwing yourself entirely into your studies and preparing yourself for the real world. In the real world, there are very few successful actors; without the perfect cocktail of superhuman talent, beauty, and connections, most would-be actors spend the vast majority of their lives waiting tables. I knew that going into college, and I'm an optimist only up to the point where my in-bred pragmatism comes into play. So, my last performance was 5 years ago.
And, truth be told, I mourn for it. Whenever I go to a play, I ache to be, not just sitting in the audience, but up on the stage. So much of myself comes from my years in the theater: my ability to project my voice when needed (I've refused microphone usage this entire year), my silent footsteps (born from years of creeping around backstage as I wait for an entrance cue), my deep love of Shakespeare. I find myself thinking about the fact that I'm the right age now to play the ingenue roles; I find myself thinking that my lifelong frustration with looking younger than I am would come in handy now if I ever wanted to audition for the role of a teenager; I find myself daydreaming, in short, that I could do this. I long to return to theater.
But, again, pragmatism prevails. Ironically, though, it prevails on a sliding scale. What would I most like to do? Act. Do I think that would actually work out for me? No. What would I next most like to do? Write. Do I think that would actually work out for me? Possibly, but let's throw in a contingency plan just in case. What would I next most like to do? Edit. Do I think that would actually work out for me? Yes, I think it just might. If I work at it hard enough.
But here's the flaw in my logic: editing jobs are still incredibly hard to come by. Publishing, indeed, was cited by the New York Times (in this excellent article) as one of the stereotypical so-called "lottery industries"--fields with any number of applicants clamoring for a shot at a very few spots doing the job they love. Publishing was listed right alongside acting, with the only difference being that those who make it as actors get paid more. Well gee, that's encouraging.
But this is not a post informing you of my new intention to run off to LA or NYC to try to make it big as an actor. (Though, ironically, I may be headed to NYC to do the same thing as an editor.) Because, regardless of my love for it, the reasons that I shelved it as an ambition still hold. I have no delusions of grandeur there, much as I wish I did. I picked writing, and editing, because I think I have a comparatively better shot there of doing something I still love, and getting paid for it--if not as much as others monetarily, at least in the knowledge that I'm doing something I love. Even if that something isn't the thing I love the most.
In the meantime, I'm going to start looking into community theaters. Because if you love doing something, why should not getting paid for doing it stop you?
If I could do anything in the world, what would I do? I would be an actress.
Depending on how long you've known me (or if you know me at all), you may know that when I was growing up, acting was my thing. At age 5, my mom tells me, I memorized the lead part's lines in a church musical--before the auditions. Not surprisingly, since I was 5, I lost that particular part to a 12-year-old, but it did little to dampen my desire. From age 5 till age 18, my happiest moments were on stage. Church musicals, a middle-school Shakespeare troupe, a variety of plays and musicals in high school; I couldn't get enough.
Then college hit, bringing with it the realization that, in the real world, you just don't have enough time to act when your hours are eaten up working to pay for tuition, room, and board, and throwing yourself entirely into your studies and preparing yourself for the real world. In the real world, there are very few successful actors; without the perfect cocktail of superhuman talent, beauty, and connections, most would-be actors spend the vast majority of their lives waiting tables. I knew that going into college, and I'm an optimist only up to the point where my in-bred pragmatism comes into play. So, my last performance was 5 years ago.
And, truth be told, I mourn for it. Whenever I go to a play, I ache to be, not just sitting in the audience, but up on the stage. So much of myself comes from my years in the theater: my ability to project my voice when needed (I've refused microphone usage this entire year), my silent footsteps (born from years of creeping around backstage as I wait for an entrance cue), my deep love of Shakespeare. I find myself thinking about the fact that I'm the right age now to play the ingenue roles; I find myself thinking that my lifelong frustration with looking younger than I am would come in handy now if I ever wanted to audition for the role of a teenager; I find myself daydreaming, in short, that I could do this. I long to return to theater.
But, again, pragmatism prevails. Ironically, though, it prevails on a sliding scale. What would I most like to do? Act. Do I think that would actually work out for me? No. What would I next most like to do? Write. Do I think that would actually work out for me? Possibly, but let's throw in a contingency plan just in case. What would I next most like to do? Edit. Do I think that would actually work out for me? Yes, I think it just might. If I work at it hard enough.
But here's the flaw in my logic: editing jobs are still incredibly hard to come by. Publishing, indeed, was cited by the New York Times (in this excellent article) as one of the stereotypical so-called "lottery industries"--fields with any number of applicants clamoring for a shot at a very few spots doing the job they love. Publishing was listed right alongside acting, with the only difference being that those who make it as actors get paid more. Well gee, that's encouraging.
But this is not a post informing you of my new intention to run off to LA or NYC to try to make it big as an actor. (Though, ironically, I may be headed to NYC to do the same thing as an editor.) Because, regardless of my love for it, the reasons that I shelved it as an ambition still hold. I have no delusions of grandeur there, much as I wish I did. I picked writing, and editing, because I think I have a comparatively better shot there of doing something I still love, and getting paid for it--if not as much as others monetarily, at least in the knowledge that I'm doing something I love. Even if that something isn't the thing I love the most.
In the meantime, I'm going to start looking into community theaters. Because if you love doing something, why should not getting paid for doing it stop you?
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Boxes and Bags
I've been putting it off, but don't think it hasn't been on my mind. Every time I look around my room, my brain goes into analysis mode, mentally categorizing every item my eyes alight on for one simple thing: is it coming home? If so, where and how?
Packing. It's the end of the year now, really and truly, and very soon all the things I've arranged so carefully around my room and apartment, the things that make a room my room, will be jammed back into their casings, ready to fly home with me. If, that is, they make the short list.
When I flew here, I paid atrocious amounts of baggage fees. Then, I flew home in August with an all-but-empty suitcase and brought back more stuff. Then, there were gifts. And souvenirs. And more gifts. And I do not want to pay more to leave here than I did to come.
Some stuff, of course, can't make the journey: the gifts I brought to give, the coffee I brought to drink, the shampoos and conditioners and whatnot I brought to use. Whenever I think of another thing I've used up here, I get excited. So, too, do I get excited when I realize I can part with something else--those books I brought and read but am not too attached to, those shoes that got ruined from too much use, those clothes which have dwindled thanks to a harsh washing machine and, again, overuse, or which will prove otherwise useless in my home climate.
And, I was at least able to send a few things back with visitors when they came, so that's something. But still, my packing plans call for throwing out as much as I possibly can to avoid a third bag and overweight charges.
Today, I began filling my theoretical third bag with stuff--stuff which will come home, but which I definitely will not need between now and July 11. And so, my mental preparations have become physical. No turning back now--from here on out, it's all boxes and bags.
Packing. It's the end of the year now, really and truly, and very soon all the things I've arranged so carefully around my room and apartment, the things that make a room my room, will be jammed back into their casings, ready to fly home with me. If, that is, they make the short list.
When I flew here, I paid atrocious amounts of baggage fees. Then, I flew home in August with an all-but-empty suitcase and brought back more stuff. Then, there were gifts. And souvenirs. And more gifts. And I do not want to pay more to leave here than I did to come.
Some stuff, of course, can't make the journey: the gifts I brought to give, the coffee I brought to drink, the shampoos and conditioners and whatnot I brought to use. Whenever I think of another thing I've used up here, I get excited. So, too, do I get excited when I realize I can part with something else--those books I brought and read but am not too attached to, those shoes that got ruined from too much use, those clothes which have dwindled thanks to a harsh washing machine and, again, overuse, or which will prove otherwise useless in my home climate.
And, I was at least able to send a few things back with visitors when they came, so that's something. But still, my packing plans call for throwing out as much as I possibly can to avoid a third bag and overweight charges.
Today, I began filling my theoretical third bag with stuff--stuff which will come home, but which I definitely will not need between now and July 11. And so, my mental preparations have become physical. No turning back now--from here on out, it's all boxes and bags.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
颱風來
颱風來...Typhoon's coming. School and all outdoor activities are preemptively canceled for tomorrow, simultaneously robbing me of my last day at Hanmin; Fulbright's planned zongzi-making party (also at Hanmin, but with all the ETAs invited); dinner with Alison, Maggie, Fiona and Patty; and Qingshan's 6th grade graduation (which is being rescheduled, but which now seems to conflict with our dragon boat races, should they actually take place).
The unfortunate part is that I can't even get upset at the system: they're not overreacting. We're about to be hit by Typhoon Talim, which is coming up along the West Coast; this, I've been told repeatedly, is NOT GOOD. Typhoons usually hit Taiwan's more exposed East Coast, thus running into the mid-country mountain range and slowing down before passing over to the much more densely populated West Coast; when they hit on The Side with the Cities, so I'm told, is when problems happen.
Oh, and we're actually getting off easy with Talim: just a few days ago, Taiwan looked like it was going to be hit on both sides, by Talim and Guchol. Thankfully (for us, at least), Guchol swirled off towards Japan, where it is now assailing Analicia's mom in the worst-timed way possible (she's flying from the States to Taipei with a stop in Japan, meaning she will very likely be impacted by both typhoons on her journey).
So, we're all pretty much under house arrest for tomorrow. Well, I had been lamenting my lack of experiencing a typhoon while I was here...after all, as Margaret told me, typhoons and earthquakes are Taiwan's natural products! Had to experience both, or I hadn't really lived here.
In other typhoon news, a friend request and follow-up message from one of my favorite 5th graders finally broke my resolve and reminded me that it was about time I made good on my promise to my students that they could be my Facebook friends after I was no longer their teacher. Within minutes of my approving my many pending requests, the following photo showed up on my timeline:
...and promptly received a deluge of "like"s from friends back home. Further exploration of the album in which I had been tagged (thankfully, just in this one photo) revealed that my fears about presenting awards at graduation had been fully justified, as there now exist multiple pictures of my back, bowing to the students. Oh joy.
And here, buried at the bottom of my post because, again, I'm in denial, today was my REAL last day teaching at Hanmin. I came in for one period in the afternoon, during which Alison and I taught a group of 1st-5th graders from a school in the outer county areas of Kaohsiung our 3rd-4th grade Morning English lesson. And that part was really fun--the kids were enthusiastic and our goal was mostly just to give out free stuff. Then Alison and I went out for a coffee, and that was really fun, too!
Then the typhoon began blowing in. And I realized I should probably act as if it was my last day at Hanmin. And I cleared out my locker, and my desk, and left a note for next year's ETA. And now my desk looks quite desolate and depressing...
...and I now have a bone to pick with a typhoon.
The unfortunate part is that I can't even get upset at the system: they're not overreacting. We're about to be hit by Typhoon Talim, which is coming up along the West Coast; this, I've been told repeatedly, is NOT GOOD. Typhoons usually hit Taiwan's more exposed East Coast, thus running into the mid-country mountain range and slowing down before passing over to the much more densely populated West Coast; when they hit on The Side with the Cities, so I'm told, is when problems happen.
Oh, and we're actually getting off easy with Talim: just a few days ago, Taiwan looked like it was going to be hit on both sides, by Talim and Guchol. Thankfully (for us, at least), Guchol swirled off towards Japan, where it is now assailing Analicia's mom in the worst-timed way possible (she's flying from the States to Taipei with a stop in Japan, meaning she will very likely be impacted by both typhoons on her journey).
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| To the left: Talim. To the right: Guchol. In the middle: Taiwan. |
In other typhoon news, a friend request and follow-up message from one of my favorite 5th graders finally broke my resolve and reminded me that it was about time I made good on my promise to my students that they could be my Facebook friends after I was no longer their teacher. Within minutes of my approving my many pending requests, the following photo showed up on my timeline:
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| Note the eyes that say "why am I doing this?" and the feet that say "I did karate for six years!" |
And here, buried at the bottom of my post because, again, I'm in denial, today was my REAL last day teaching at Hanmin. I came in for one period in the afternoon, during which Alison and I taught a group of 1st-5th graders from a school in the outer county areas of Kaohsiung our 3rd-4th grade Morning English lesson. And that part was really fun--the kids were enthusiastic and our goal was mostly just to give out free stuff. Then Alison and I went out for a coffee, and that was really fun, too!
Then the typhoon began blowing in. And I realized I should probably act as if it was my last day at Hanmin. And I cleared out my locker, and my desk, and left a note for next year's ETA. And now my desk looks quite desolate and depressing...
 |
| Yesterday.. |
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| Today. :( |
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Denial
I don't want to talk about it. Scratch that, I don't want to think about it. Actually, I don't want it to have happened, and by somehow leaving it out of my mental processes, I can pretend that's so: today was not my last day of teaching at Hanmin. Today was not my farewell to all the absolutely wonderful 5th graders I've had the privilege of meeting there. And it was also not my last day working with Maggie.
Except it was.
They're unfathomable, these "lasts." They represent the ripping out of my life of things that have become wholly connected to who I am, and who I have been for the past 10--almost 11!--months. Teacher Bekah, Bekah 老師--it was a title that fit awkwardly at first, like a new shoe. Now, though, it's been worn into a second skin, and I'm reluctant to take it off, especially since doing so means saying goodbye to the nearly 1,000 students, teachers, and administrators I've been able to work with here.
I can't think too much about it. I can't. Especially since each day brings a new goodbye, a fresh "last" to add to the ever-growing list. Last day of 6th grade at Hanmin, last day of 6th grade at Qingshan, Hanmin graduation, last day of 5th grade at Hanmin, Teacher Appreciation Banquet...It's a blessing and a curse, having my endings stretched over a week and a half. I'm reminded of the lobsters who, being put in water before it's boiled, don't even realize the water is heating up until it's over.
OK, so that's a bit morbid, but the idea holds: I feel like I'm being eased into The End so gradually that I don't--can't--mourn properly for each new step. Sure, I keep writing emo-kid-worthy blog posts about it--(sorry about that)--but it's hard to let myself realize, really, that it's ending. In class, I look around and tell myself, this is the last time you'll be here, but I can't get a real sense of it. I read the mounds of cards piling up on my desk--all very sweet, all reminding me just how much I love my kids--and I think oh, well, you might still get to see them on Tuesday and Wednesday... And yes, I might: I'll be physically present at Hanmin tomorrow and the day after for various events. But even then, there are no guarantees! And after that--nothing.
I'd better end there--no sense taking that course any further down its inevitably Eeyore-ish way. I suppose there'll be plenty of time to deal with the gloom later on--and I doubt my as yet un-summoned tears will stay away once I'm actually on the plane headed home. After all, I'll have nearly 1,000 reasons to be sad.
In the mean time, here's a more pragmatic, pictoral look at my day: a day, as I've said, of goodbyes, but also of candy and cards and smiling faces.
Not pictured: the Teacher Appreciation Banquet tonight. It was great--scrumptious food, saw several of my students (their parents were on the PTA and/or were teachers) and fun talking with Maggie and Alison--but my camera was dead. So...that happened.
Except it was.
They're unfathomable, these "lasts." They represent the ripping out of my life of things that have become wholly connected to who I am, and who I have been for the past 10--almost 11!--months. Teacher Bekah, Bekah 老師--it was a title that fit awkwardly at first, like a new shoe. Now, though, it's been worn into a second skin, and I'm reluctant to take it off, especially since doing so means saying goodbye to the nearly 1,000 students, teachers, and administrators I've been able to work with here.
I can't think too much about it. I can't. Especially since each day brings a new goodbye, a fresh "last" to add to the ever-growing list. Last day of 6th grade at Hanmin, last day of 6th grade at Qingshan, Hanmin graduation, last day of 5th grade at Hanmin, Teacher Appreciation Banquet...It's a blessing and a curse, having my endings stretched over a week and a half. I'm reminded of the lobsters who, being put in water before it's boiled, don't even realize the water is heating up until it's over.
OK, so that's a bit morbid, but the idea holds: I feel like I'm being eased into The End so gradually that I don't--can't--mourn properly for each new step. Sure, I keep writing emo-kid-worthy blog posts about it--(sorry about that)--but it's hard to let myself realize, really, that it's ending. In class, I look around and tell myself, this is the last time you'll be here, but I can't get a real sense of it. I read the mounds of cards piling up on my desk--all very sweet, all reminding me just how much I love my kids--and I think oh, well, you might still get to see them on Tuesday and Wednesday... And yes, I might: I'll be physically present at Hanmin tomorrow and the day after for various events. But even then, there are no guarantees! And after that--nothing.
I'd better end there--no sense taking that course any further down its inevitably Eeyore-ish way. I suppose there'll be plenty of time to deal with the gloom later on--and I doubt my as yet un-summoned tears will stay away once I'm actually on the plane headed home. After all, I'll have nearly 1,000 reasons to be sad.
In the mean time, here's a more pragmatic, pictoral look at my day: a day, as I've said, of goodbyes, but also of candy and cards and smiling faces.
 |
| Soooo many caaaaaards! |
Not pictured: the Teacher Appreciation Banquet tonight. It was great--scrumptious food, saw several of my students (their parents were on the PTA and/or were teachers) and fun talking with Maggie and Alison--but my camera was dead. So...that happened.
Monday, June 18, 2012
That moment when...
Life is full of little moments. Usually, they end up in a Twitter hashtag. But I don't have Twitter. So, I give you, live from my blog, the little moments of my day. Including that moment when...
#you wake up with a sore throat, despite feeling fine the day before, and become terrified that you won't be allowed to SCUBA dive on your fast-approaching trip to Australia.
#you find yourself unexpectedly not that sore after a day of dragonboat practice.
#you go to dragonboat practice and realize your soreness was just hiding, waiting for the time when you'd ask the same muscles to do the same thing in front of dozens of people...because that's SO much more fun!
#you get shave ice with your dragonboat team and find yourself wondering how many more shave ices you'll get before you leave...
#you eat your last meal with a good friend who you might not see again before you leave...
#you have to say goodbye to a good friend who you might not see again before you leave...
#you finish writing 150 goodbye cards in just a few hours, and end up with exactly ONE card to spare.
#you actually have the TV on at the moment that the movie you'd wanted to remember to watch is playing.
#your dad is home at the same time that you're awake, and answers Skype, so you can wish him "Happy Father's Day."
#you hear a dog barking out of an apartment window and realize you just walked into a scene from Disney's animated 101 Dalmations.
#you go into a 7-11 and see it being used as a 7-11 in America would be: by big, burly men with late-night munchies, buying food from a bored-looking middle-aged man.
#you realize that writing daily blogs that are actually original and worthwhile is exhausting and impossible.
#you wake up with a sore throat, despite feeling fine the day before, and become terrified that you won't be allowed to SCUBA dive on your fast-approaching trip to Australia.
#you find yourself unexpectedly not that sore after a day of dragonboat practice.
#you go to dragonboat practice and realize your soreness was just hiding, waiting for the time when you'd ask the same muscles to do the same thing in front of dozens of people...because that's SO much more fun!
#you get shave ice with your dragonboat team and find yourself wondering how many more shave ices you'll get before you leave...
#you eat your last meal with a good friend who you might not see again before you leave...
#you have to say goodbye to a good friend who you might not see again before you leave...
#you finish writing 150 goodbye cards in just a few hours, and end up with exactly ONE card to spare.
#you actually have the TV on at the moment that the movie you'd wanted to remember to watch is playing.
#your dad is home at the same time that you're awake, and answers Skype, so you can wish him "Happy Father's Day."
#you hear a dog barking out of an apartment window and realize you just walked into a scene from Disney's animated 101 Dalmations.
#you go into a 7-11 and see it being used as a 7-11 in America would be: by big, burly men with late-night munchies, buying food from a bored-looking middle-aged man.
#you realize that writing daily blogs that are actually original and worthwhile is exhausting and impossible.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
In brief
I'm currently at that particularly awful point in life where your eyes are refusing your orders that they stay open, and you still have a blog post to write. So, for purely physiological reasons, this will be short.
Today:
Today:
- Tom came to town!
- We had our first dragonboat practice, which resulted in obscenely sore muscles, a thorough drenching of the left side of my body, coupled with a deep understanding of how stinky the Love River is, and the realization that all may be for naught, if we can't get another foreigner to join our team by Thursday.
- Rachel and I hung out with Tom and two of his friends, Michael and Charles.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Love love love
As I pulled into the parking garage tonight and peeled my wet poncho off my back, I realized something: I had been "at school" for 12 hours. A long day, by most standards; especially coming as it did at the end of a busy week, I should have been exhausted and cranky. I smiled. Shortest 12 hours of my life.
The day began as has become the norm lately. As I get ready for the day, I look out my window: no rain. Right before heading out, I look out the window: no rain. I walk out my door, get in the elevator, and ride it the short 30 seconds or so to the bottom. The elevator doors open, and I walk out--to a perfectly timed downpour. Taiwanese weather takes Murphy's Law to new heights.
When I arrived, dripping, at Qingshan, I arrived to a day of little joys and good conversation--and a never-ending stream of Justin Bieber and Carly Rae Jepsen which made me realize, conclusively, that it is impossible to ever take yourself seriously again after leading a group of students in a call-and-repeat of "Hey, I just met you/ And this is crazy/ But here's my number/ So call me, maybe?" over and over again. In other news, the full lyrics to that song will ever again leave my consciousness.
Between classes, Patty arranged it so I could meet up with the 6th graders I didn't get to see yesterday, handing out cards and candy once in their home room--the first time since I first got here that I'd been to their homeroom, I realized, or met their teacher--and once in a tangle of 5th graders trying to come in for class, after the initial 6th grade showing was limited to just five boys. (They got their own special photo op, though!)
Then, after a lunchtime radio session with Patty, I headed over to Hanmin to meet Alison for the 6th grade graduation that was going on there that afternoon.
The graduation...was...stupendous. It went on for over two hours; to spare you from reading and myself from writing the gritty details, here are the highlights:
I spent the next few hours eating (DELICIOUS steak), chatting with Alison, posing for more pictures, and getting final wonderful moments with some of my favorite students, who kept pulling me aside just to say hi, or coming to my table for a picture, or coming en masse to toast me--my favorite moment of the night. There had been tears at the graduation ceremony, but here, it was all smiles and hugs and laughter: the perfect way to remember my great year with these kids.
I hardly noticed time passing. By the time Alison and I left, the restaurant was all but cleared out, but I was still reluctant: leave my 6th graders for the last time? The thought was, and is, heart-wrenching. It can't possibly be that time yet.
The time has gone by so quickly. As the cascade of goodbye cards sitting on my desk attest, it doesn't seem possible that it's already been almost a year since I got here. But it has, and that means saying goodbye to all of my lovely students. And with so much love, and so many goodbyes to be made, 12 hours a day is far too short a time to spend at school.
The day began as has become the norm lately. As I get ready for the day, I look out my window: no rain. Right before heading out, I look out the window: no rain. I walk out my door, get in the elevator, and ride it the short 30 seconds or so to the bottom. The elevator doors open, and I walk out--to a perfectly timed downpour. Taiwanese weather takes Murphy's Law to new heights.
When I arrived, dripping, at Qingshan, I arrived to a day of little joys and good conversation--and a never-ending stream of Justin Bieber and Carly Rae Jepsen which made me realize, conclusively, that it is impossible to ever take yourself seriously again after leading a group of students in a call-and-repeat of "Hey, I just met you/ And this is crazy/ But here's my number/ So call me, maybe?" over and over again. In other news, the full lyrics to that song will ever again leave my consciousness.
Between classes, Patty arranged it so I could meet up with the 6th graders I didn't get to see yesterday, handing out cards and candy once in their home room--the first time since I first got here that I'd been to their homeroom, I realized, or met their teacher--and once in a tangle of 5th graders trying to come in for class, after the initial 6th grade showing was limited to just five boys. (They got their own special photo op, though!)
 |
| And don't they look thrilled about it. |
 |
| Hey look, a homeroom! |
The graduation...was...stupendous. It went on for over two hours; to spare you from reading and myself from writing the gritty details, here are the highlights:
- SO MANY AWARDS. Alison told me she'd heard they had 24 awards for each of the 11 classes; I lost track well before that, but they had, in addition to the top achiever awards by class (which I think went down to fifth place?), PTA choice awards, awards for special needs students, and awards for every class in every class subject--these awards featured a stage covered in an 11-by-6 grid of students, in between each two of which stood an award presenter, whose job it was to bow to them, hand them their award, bow again, step into the row for pictures, go back to their spot, and bow, after which the next row would step forward and the process would repeat. How do I know all this? Well, because I was called up to be a presenter for, not just one of these, but two; neither award set was for English, and neither Alison nor I knew what it was for. BUT, I did get to hand awards to my students! So, woo?
 |
| First prize: the smallest category of awards. |
- FANTASTIC DANCING. To give the audience a much-needed break from all the awards, there were several intermission-type breaks which featured the many talents of Hanmin's students in other grades, predominantly the 5th graders. Which MEANS I got to watch my amazing 5th grade dance class in action once again, and this time photography was allowed! Pretty great, if you ask me.
- SUPERSTAR STATUS. Walking into the auditorium where the graduation was held, you'd think the kids had never seen me before (but somehow still knew my name). I posed for many, many a picture, and received many, many darling cards and gifts, including a fantastic neck pillow which will come in handy soon. I felt very loved, as all my wonderful students pressed around me telling me they would miss me. I'll miss them, too, more than they know.
 |
| Video forthcoming, whenever Youtube decides to stop hating me. But seriously, how many 5th graders do YOU know that can pull of Latin ballroom dancing? |
I spent the next few hours eating (DELICIOUS steak), chatting with Alison, posing for more pictures, and getting final wonderful moments with some of my favorite students, who kept pulling me aside just to say hi, or coming to my table for a picture, or coming en masse to toast me--my favorite moment of the night. There had been tears at the graduation ceremony, but here, it was all smiles and hugs and laughter: the perfect way to remember my great year with these kids.
 |
| I dare you not to smile. |
 |
| So does Jay. |
I hardly noticed time passing. By the time Alison and I left, the restaurant was all but cleared out, but I was still reluctant: leave my 6th graders for the last time? The thought was, and is, heart-wrenching. It can't possibly be that time yet.
The time has gone by so quickly. As the cascade of goodbye cards sitting on my desk attest, it doesn't seem possible that it's already been almost a year since I got here. But it has, and that means saying goodbye to all of my lovely students. And with so much love, and so many goodbyes to be made, 12 hours a day is far too short a time to spend at school.
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