I've been doing a lot of them lately, and I expect I'll be doing a lot more as my time here winds down. Some for Fulbright, some for myself; some big, some miniscule. Might as well get used to it. In any case, here are a few more.
Today was our last Fulbright workshop. For it, the new Director General of the Education Bureau turned up to present all of the ETAs and LETs with a Certificate of Appreciation, and to give the ETAs a faux-glass clear engraved award. Then we passed a microphone around praising each other (all well-deserved, truly, and at least 100 times over) for a bit. Then things devolved into what my brain kept telling me was best described as a s***storm. Honestly, I tried to think of better words for it to keep from writing that--but they're just not there.
See, our end-of-the-year banquet was unceremoniously cancelled last week. Everyone was disappointed, and disappointment soon turned into person after person saying the same thing--we need a time to hang out and say goodbye--and asking why we couldn't have it. And, while this might not be too bad if it were just a group of ETAs and LETs, it wasn't; rather, the group included the absolutely wonderful and sweet local Education Bureau--you know, those people who probably had to make this call, but without having any choice but to do so. It was awkward.
Eventually we quit complaining and pulled together a plan for something resembling a potluck--and why it took a good half hour to get to that conclusion, I'll never know--but the needlessly combative middle of the workshop was absurdly uncomfortable, though also in a way the "perfect" close to a year that began with such stress back in August. I'm sure the potluck will be fun, though.
On an entirely unrelated note, I've been thinking lately about NaNoWriMo. For those in the know, yes, I am aware we are nowhere near November; for those not in the know, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month, and it's an American-based community whose members devote themselves to completing a 50,000-word novel in the month of November.
I have never tried it; I've never considered that I would have time. I have friends who've done NaNoWriMo, and it's a lot of work; it's an understood thing among those who do that many people revert to copying song lyrics or other such text into their "novels" in order to keep up on the word count.
So what's my revelation on all this? Oh, only that I've essentially been doing a nonfiction version of NaNoWriMo for the past 10 months, that all. Seriously. In order to hit 50,000 words in a month, you have to write about 1,600 words a day--sound about like a blog post to you? OK, in all honesty I'm probably under 50,000 a month, but I bet I'm consistently hitting around 30,000, on average. Every. Single. Month. And, my occasionally pathetic asides aside, I have at least yet to resort to lyric copying!
So who knows, maybe this November I'll take up the fiction gauntlet for a bit. Can't be worse than finding material for a daily blog!
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Scooter Pet Peeves
...because it's been a while, and I only have another month (ish) in which to experience (and complain about) Taiwanese traffic. So, what have I been noticing lately? Well...
1. Scooters might just be the reason for the terrible traffic light systems in Taiwan. This was actually a big breakthrough discovery for me. In America, as you may know, traffic lights are triggered in one of two ways: they run on a regular schedule, or they keep the dominant road on green unless a car pulls up to the light on the less-dominant road and triggers a switch. Well, so far as I can tell, this second system does not exist in Taiwan.
Rather, it is on a rigidly regular schedule which aligns all roads facing one direction--which is a bit eerie, at first, since it means that you'll be driving along, and suddenly see the traffic lights for every block within your sight-line turn yellow at once. It also is insanely obnoxious, since it absolutely guarantees that you will stop every X number of blocks, with X being determined by the schedule, how fast you're going, and how many slow-moving vehicles pull out in front of you along the way (but we'll get to that in a minute). The lights are so reliable that, at this point, I can pretty well tell you exactly where I'll have to stop every time I drive to school--and I know exactly how fast I have to go to get to where. (Woo, made it to Yisin this morning! Or: gaaah, Ersheng, I'm going to be late. Stupid tour bus!)
Now, granted, I've been out of the Stateside driving routine for almost a year now, so please correct me if I'm remembering it incorrectly. But aren't the scheduled lights there rigged so that, if you hit a green, you usually hit all greens; if you hit a red, you usually hit only one, followed by a string of greens? I don't think it' even something you usually notice, I just have a distinct memory of many, MANY trips where I hit all yellows, like four lights in a row's worth of just-long-enough lights--until eventually I hit one that I couldn't help but stop for unless I wanted a ticket and/or an accident.
Besides that, greens are more prevalent on major roads because the minor roads are almost all run on pressure sensors, which means that those roads only get the green if they're actually needed. And, after 10 months here in Taiwan, where the number of vacant alleyways with green lights as I sit at a red, coupled with a general lack of traffic law enforcement, has led me to routinely determining if I am at a "necessary" (stop and wait) or "non-necessary" (look and go!) red light, green-lighting major roads at the expense of smaller ones seems like a great idea.
A few days ago, though, while reading this Cracked.com article, I realized why they can't have them here: scooters can't trigger pressure-based lights! And since the vast majority of Taiwan's (or, at least, Kaohsiung's) motorists sit perched not in cars or trucks but on scooters or motorcycles, a lights system that caters to larger vehicles while stranding smaller ones just wouldn't make sense.
Still, it seems like they should be able to just develop a more sensitive sensor...or at least make the schedule according to actual traffic patterns, rather than an arbitrary grid!
2. Dear Car-drivers of Kaohsiung: We'll get out of your lanes as soon as you stop using ours as a parking lot. Sincerely, Scooter-drivers of Kaohsiung.
Most major Kaohsiung roads have one of two set-ups: either several car lanes, a barrier, and a scooter lane, or several car lanes, a line, and a scooter lane/road shoulder. It should be noted that, on the outside corner of every scooter lane and/or road shoulder, there are usually parking spaces. If there is no space for parking spaces, there is a solid red line along the curb.
But see, here's the problem: no one cares. Remember earlier when I mentioned traffic laws rarely get enforced here? Well, that applies to parking laws, too, to some extent. (I do see roving parking ticket-givers, but it doesn't seem to do much to deter illegal parking.) On any given road, with or without space to park, let alone actual parking spaces, there will be two rows of parked or parking cars. Double-parking is not just common, it's absolutely the norm.
But wait, you say, you just said there's no room for them to park! Ah, yes, but you forget, there's a whole scooter lane/ shoulder of the road to be used! Because, CLEARLY, that's what that extra space is there for, right? It's not like it's legally set aside for scooters or anything! No, this must be extra parking space. Obviously.
As a scooter-driver, this is absolutely infuriating. I'll be driving along, minding my own business, when I see that the double row of parked cars up ahead has completely filled up my lane. Obviously, I safely swerve left, into the car lane--doing my best to avoid the bottleneck of other scooters all also trying to avoid a collision--and get honked at. I'm sorry, but what? We're in your way, you say? We're in your lane, you say? AND WHY DO YOU THINK THAT MIGHT BE???
So sorry, car-drivers of Kaohsiung. I will not stay out of your lane--and, until you clean out mine, please refrain from asking me to. But, sadly, that's not even the only way cars abuse the scooter lane, which brings me to...
3. It's a scooter lane, not the pick-up/drop-off lane.
This one only really applies to the really big roads, i.e. those with a barrier and real separate scooter lane. Most of the roads I take to get to work fall into this category. And, on this one, I'm willing to shift the primary blame from the car-drivers to the civil engineers who designed the roads. They designed them terribly.
I already mentioned that most roads have parking spots along the far outside edge. What I didn't mention, though, is that those spots are almost always filled, being filled, or being vacated, thus creating a near-constant, yet unpredictable and largely blinker-free flow of very slow moving vehicles into and out of the scooter lane. There are no parking spaces or places to stop along the main car lanes. So, to get its passengers anywhere near the businesses/homes they're trying to get to, car driver must pull out of their lane and merge with the scooters, then find a parking space and pull into it. Not surprisingly, this is a very slow process--slow merge into the oncoming scooters, slow crawl lest you miss a spot; absolute dead stop when you realize there are no spots to be taken.
All this in the midst of normal-speed scooters just trying to make it to wherever they're going on time. It's insanity. Once, on the way to the gym, I found myself in a cluster of scooters who had to come to a complete, lane-wide stop because a tour bus had parked itself smack-dab in the middle of the lane and was disembarking its passengers. Eventually, a few people discovered we could still squeeze around the corner of the bus next to the barrier (barely!), while most just took the Taiwan-ordinary (yet also insane) option of taking to the sidewalk.
Civil engineers, here's a thought: car parking spaces along the side of the car lanes; scooter lanes exclusively for scooters. You'd have less double-parking AND, I'd wager, fewer accidents (no more unexpected merges; no more sudden car doors!). So, please? All you'd have to do is move the barrier and re-cast the sidewalk...
4. If you're going to cut me off, please have the decency to keep going afterwards.
This one's short, but I cannot stress enough how annoying it is. At this point, I know how fast I drive comparative to others; I can usually tell, at a glance, whom I should be ahead of and behind at a given stoplight if I want to avoid the annoying-for-everybody dance of passing and being passed. But others, apparently, either don't know or don't care about this.
This pet peeve manifests itself in two ways. In the first, as I'm stopped at a light, someone pulls around me and stops directly in front, cutting me off from moving until they do--which invariably takes ages and is ridiculously slow. My best guess for a reason behind this is that they don't want to breathe in exhaust fumes, which is fair enough, though a bit selfish, since they're directly funneling their fumes at me as a result. In the second, while driving, someone zooms around me and immediately slows down--usually so that they can coast at a good 10km/hr for a good block or so before the actual upcoming stoplight, which they will not actually make it to because they're aiming for the patch of shade 50ft back. I've been told that stopping back from the light in order to be in shade is illegal--it's dangerous, at any rate: you're intentionally stopping in the middle of the road!--but it's absurdly prevalent here, thanks to the desire to avoid getting tan.
And look, I get it: you don't want to breathe in exhaust, or you don't want to shoot your breaks, and you want to stop back from the light, or you don't want to get tan. Okay. That's fine. But please, PLEASE don't pass people if you're planning on doing it! Again, it's unsafe, selfish, and just flat out rude.
So those are my pet peeves of the day. And if you're ever in Taiwan...please remember: scooter-ers are people too!
1. Scooters might just be the reason for the terrible traffic light systems in Taiwan. This was actually a big breakthrough discovery for me. In America, as you may know, traffic lights are triggered in one of two ways: they run on a regular schedule, or they keep the dominant road on green unless a car pulls up to the light on the less-dominant road and triggers a switch. Well, so far as I can tell, this second system does not exist in Taiwan.
Rather, it is on a rigidly regular schedule which aligns all roads facing one direction--which is a bit eerie, at first, since it means that you'll be driving along, and suddenly see the traffic lights for every block within your sight-line turn yellow at once. It also is insanely obnoxious, since it absolutely guarantees that you will stop every X number of blocks, with X being determined by the schedule, how fast you're going, and how many slow-moving vehicles pull out in front of you along the way (but we'll get to that in a minute). The lights are so reliable that, at this point, I can pretty well tell you exactly where I'll have to stop every time I drive to school--and I know exactly how fast I have to go to get to where. (Woo, made it to Yisin this morning! Or: gaaah, Ersheng, I'm going to be late. Stupid tour bus!)
Now, granted, I've been out of the Stateside driving routine for almost a year now, so please correct me if I'm remembering it incorrectly. But aren't the scheduled lights there rigged so that, if you hit a green, you usually hit all greens; if you hit a red, you usually hit only one, followed by a string of greens? I don't think it' even something you usually notice, I just have a distinct memory of many, MANY trips where I hit all yellows, like four lights in a row's worth of just-long-enough lights--until eventually I hit one that I couldn't help but stop for unless I wanted a ticket and/or an accident.
Besides that, greens are more prevalent on major roads because the minor roads are almost all run on pressure sensors, which means that those roads only get the green if they're actually needed. And, after 10 months here in Taiwan, where the number of vacant alleyways with green lights as I sit at a red, coupled with a general lack of traffic law enforcement, has led me to routinely determining if I am at a "necessary" (stop and wait) or "non-necessary" (look and go!) red light, green-lighting major roads at the expense of smaller ones seems like a great idea.
A few days ago, though, while reading this Cracked.com article, I realized why they can't have them here: scooters can't trigger pressure-based lights! And since the vast majority of Taiwan's (or, at least, Kaohsiung's) motorists sit perched not in cars or trucks but on scooters or motorcycles, a lights system that caters to larger vehicles while stranding smaller ones just wouldn't make sense.
Still, it seems like they should be able to just develop a more sensitive sensor...or at least make the schedule according to actual traffic patterns, rather than an arbitrary grid!
2. Dear Car-drivers of Kaohsiung: We'll get out of your lanes as soon as you stop using ours as a parking lot. Sincerely, Scooter-drivers of Kaohsiung.
Most major Kaohsiung roads have one of two set-ups: either several car lanes, a barrier, and a scooter lane, or several car lanes, a line, and a scooter lane/road shoulder. It should be noted that, on the outside corner of every scooter lane and/or road shoulder, there are usually parking spaces. If there is no space for parking spaces, there is a solid red line along the curb.
But see, here's the problem: no one cares. Remember earlier when I mentioned traffic laws rarely get enforced here? Well, that applies to parking laws, too, to some extent. (I do see roving parking ticket-givers, but it doesn't seem to do much to deter illegal parking.) On any given road, with or without space to park, let alone actual parking spaces, there will be two rows of parked or parking cars. Double-parking is not just common, it's absolutely the norm.
But wait, you say, you just said there's no room for them to park! Ah, yes, but you forget, there's a whole scooter lane/ shoulder of the road to be used! Because, CLEARLY, that's what that extra space is there for, right? It's not like it's legally set aside for scooters or anything! No, this must be extra parking space. Obviously.
As a scooter-driver, this is absolutely infuriating. I'll be driving along, minding my own business, when I see that the double row of parked cars up ahead has completely filled up my lane. Obviously, I safely swerve left, into the car lane--doing my best to avoid the bottleneck of other scooters all also trying to avoid a collision--and get honked at. I'm sorry, but what? We're in your way, you say? We're in your lane, you say? AND WHY DO YOU THINK THAT MIGHT BE???
So sorry, car-drivers of Kaohsiung. I will not stay out of your lane--and, until you clean out mine, please refrain from asking me to. But, sadly, that's not even the only way cars abuse the scooter lane, which brings me to...
3. It's a scooter lane, not the pick-up/drop-off lane.
This one only really applies to the really big roads, i.e. those with a barrier and real separate scooter lane. Most of the roads I take to get to work fall into this category. And, on this one, I'm willing to shift the primary blame from the car-drivers to the civil engineers who designed the roads. They designed them terribly.
I already mentioned that most roads have parking spots along the far outside edge. What I didn't mention, though, is that those spots are almost always filled, being filled, or being vacated, thus creating a near-constant, yet unpredictable and largely blinker-free flow of very slow moving vehicles into and out of the scooter lane. There are no parking spaces or places to stop along the main car lanes. So, to get its passengers anywhere near the businesses/homes they're trying to get to, car driver must pull out of their lane and merge with the scooters, then find a parking space and pull into it. Not surprisingly, this is a very slow process--slow merge into the oncoming scooters, slow crawl lest you miss a spot; absolute dead stop when you realize there are no spots to be taken.
All this in the midst of normal-speed scooters just trying to make it to wherever they're going on time. It's insanity. Once, on the way to the gym, I found myself in a cluster of scooters who had to come to a complete, lane-wide stop because a tour bus had parked itself smack-dab in the middle of the lane and was disembarking its passengers. Eventually, a few people discovered we could still squeeze around the corner of the bus next to the barrier (barely!), while most just took the Taiwan-ordinary (yet also insane) option of taking to the sidewalk.
Civil engineers, here's a thought: car parking spaces along the side of the car lanes; scooter lanes exclusively for scooters. You'd have less double-parking AND, I'd wager, fewer accidents (no more unexpected merges; no more sudden car doors!). So, please? All you'd have to do is move the barrier and re-cast the sidewalk...
4. If you're going to cut me off, please have the decency to keep going afterwards.
This one's short, but I cannot stress enough how annoying it is. At this point, I know how fast I drive comparative to others; I can usually tell, at a glance, whom I should be ahead of and behind at a given stoplight if I want to avoid the annoying-for-everybody dance of passing and being passed. But others, apparently, either don't know or don't care about this.
This pet peeve manifests itself in two ways. In the first, as I'm stopped at a light, someone pulls around me and stops directly in front, cutting me off from moving until they do--which invariably takes ages and is ridiculously slow. My best guess for a reason behind this is that they don't want to breathe in exhaust fumes, which is fair enough, though a bit selfish, since they're directly funneling their fumes at me as a result. In the second, while driving, someone zooms around me and immediately slows down--usually so that they can coast at a good 10km/hr for a good block or so before the actual upcoming stoplight, which they will not actually make it to because they're aiming for the patch of shade 50ft back. I've been told that stopping back from the light in order to be in shade is illegal--it's dangerous, at any rate: you're intentionally stopping in the middle of the road!--but it's absurdly prevalent here, thanks to the desire to avoid getting tan.
And look, I get it: you don't want to breathe in exhaust, or you don't want to shoot your breaks, and you want to stop back from the light, or you don't want to get tan. Okay. That's fine. But please, PLEASE don't pass people if you're planning on doing it! Again, it's unsafe, selfish, and just flat out rude.
So those are my pet peeves of the day. And if you're ever in Taiwan...please remember: scooter-ers are people too!
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Monday, May 28, 2012
I won the lottery...again!
Good thing I waited till now to blog. See, earlier I was mulling over my entry:
"Nothing to report! So why bother?"
"It never fails that seven days is too long to keep one of these meaningless posts off the front page of my blog." "Sometimes daily blogging sucks."
And then, I remembered: the March/April receipt lottery numbers were up! So I pulled out my (very thick, thanks to contributions from Kaitlin, Alex and Melanie, and Grace!) was of receipt, and started checking. And, voila! Not one, but TWO receipts with matching last-three-digit numbers. Magic 200NT notes, thanks to nothing more than a little grocery shopping and a dinner stop at Subway last month.
Let's see here...last time, one win, at 200NT. This time, two wins, at 200NT each. If it keeps doubling...I like my odds for May/June! Except--I won't be here to redeem them. Anyone want my receipts? I seem to have good luck with them...
*Caveat: turns out, only one of my numbers won; the other matched the special prize number, which apparently doesn't work with the last-three-digit thing. But still!
"Nothing to report! So why bother?"
"It never fails that seven days is too long to keep one of these meaningless posts off the front page of my blog." "Sometimes daily blogging sucks."
And then, I remembered: the March/April receipt lottery numbers were up! So I pulled out my (very thick, thanks to contributions from Kaitlin, Alex and Melanie, and Grace!) was of receipt, and started checking. And, voila! Not one, but TWO receipts with matching last-three-digit numbers. Magic 200NT notes, thanks to nothing more than a little grocery shopping and a dinner stop at Subway last month.
Let's see here...last time, one win, at 200NT. This time, two wins, at 200NT each. If it keeps doubling...I like my odds for May/June! Except--I won't be here to redeem them. Anyone want my receipts? I seem to have good luck with them...
 |
| ...makes me wish I never threw all these out last August! |
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Calla lilies
Fun fact: pull up a search for my name, 百合, on Google, and you get this. Literally translated, Baihe means White Lily. And what did I do today? Went to go look at white lilies.
Calla lilies, to be specific. On a recommendation by a friend of Chialing's, Karina, Analicia and I went up Yangmingshan to see the calla lily fields. The journey there was anything but easy, and may or may not have involved us missing our bus stop and having to walk a couple kilometers down a windy mountain road with no footpath, but eventually we got there. And it was gorgeous!
These are, of course, just a few of the many MANY pictures we took up on Yangmingshan. The fields reminded me somewhat of the tulip fields near Seattle: there's just something about row upon row of flowers that is irresistible for photo shoots. We had a lot of fun.
After the lily fields, Karina and I went to meet Tom for dinner--an embarrassing hour-and-a-half later than we said we would, thanks to our bus mishap--and then went back to the hotel to grab our stuff and head home. So our last Taipei trip went much like (one of) our first: a Yangmingshan trip with transportation issues. But this time, unlike our failed summit, we did at least get to see what we came for.
And with that, farewell, Taipei. It's been great.
Calla lilies, to be specific. On a recommendation by a friend of Chialing's, Karina, Analicia and I went up Yangmingshan to see the calla lily fields. The journey there was anything but easy, and may or may not have involved us missing our bus stop and having to walk a couple kilometers down a windy mountain road with no footpath, but eventually we got there. And it was gorgeous!
 |
| Our walking route... |
  |
| The fields had dozens of resident dogs--all black, for some reason. This one was the cutest. |
These are, of course, just a few of the many MANY pictures we took up on Yangmingshan. The fields reminded me somewhat of the tulip fields near Seattle: there's just something about row upon row of flowers that is irresistible for photo shoots. We had a lot of fun.
After the lily fields, Karina and I went to meet Tom for dinner--an embarrassing hour-and-a-half later than we said we would, thanks to our bus mishap--and then went back to the hotel to grab our stuff and head home. So our last Taipei trip went much like (one of) our first: a Yangmingshan trip with transportation issues. But this time, unlike our failed summit, we did at least get to see what we came for.
And with that, farewell, Taipei. It's been great.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Farewell
Tonight was our last official Fulbright reception.
After school, I met Karina at the HSR station and--probably as a result of all the end-of-year writing I've been doing--found myself immersed in memories. The last time I stood here I was saying goodbye to Alex and Melanie; the first time we took this train we didn't know what was going on; the first time we came to Taipei Fonda guided us and it seemed so foreign; look at us now, all self-sufficient and calm...an oddly charged train trip.
In Taipei, we briefly relived my previous experience of getting lost looking for a hotel near Taipei Main, but Karina pulled us through after a quick check-in with a friendly shop-keeper and her son. We checked in (the same hotel we stayed at the first time!) and headed towards our reception.
I've got to be honest: receptions tend to be somewhat boring affairs. I've got to be honest: this one was NOT. We got to meet some of the Taiwanese Fulbright grantees to America for 2012-2013, and I discovered that two FLTAs (Foreign Language Teaching Assistants, or the equivalent of what we do, but in America) are going to Oregon! One will be at Lewis & Clark University, and the other will be at Pacific University. I had fun telling them about the great state they'll soon be heading towards.
Our table consisted in Karina, Analacia and I, plus three senior scholars, including Serge, a law professor who never fails to keep us laughing, and whom Karina and Brittany are often consulting with on their work in Taitung. We were soon all playing musical chairs, as Analicia, Brittany and Rachel shifted into and out of seats as they worked the room.
It's amazing to think that this is our last officially sanctioned trip to Taipei; it is also likely to be my last visit overall, since we've seen most of the city by now and it costs a lot to come here. Taipei has been a great part of my life for the last 10 months, and it's weird to think a weekend trip will soon no longer be a possibility.
So begin the "last"s...time to start saying goodbye to Fulbright.
After school, I met Karina at the HSR station and--probably as a result of all the end-of-year writing I've been doing--found myself immersed in memories. The last time I stood here I was saying goodbye to Alex and Melanie; the first time we took this train we didn't know what was going on; the first time we came to Taipei Fonda guided us and it seemed so foreign; look at us now, all self-sufficient and calm...an oddly charged train trip.
In Taipei, we briefly relived my previous experience of getting lost looking for a hotel near Taipei Main, but Karina pulled us through after a quick check-in with a friendly shop-keeper and her son. We checked in (the same hotel we stayed at the first time!) and headed towards our reception.
I've got to be honest: receptions tend to be somewhat boring affairs. I've got to be honest: this one was NOT. We got to meet some of the Taiwanese Fulbright grantees to America for 2012-2013, and I discovered that two FLTAs (Foreign Language Teaching Assistants, or the equivalent of what we do, but in America) are going to Oregon! One will be at Lewis & Clark University, and the other will be at Pacific University. I had fun telling them about the great state they'll soon be heading towards.
Our table consisted in Karina, Analacia and I, plus three senior scholars, including Serge, a law professor who never fails to keep us laughing, and whom Karina and Brittany are often consulting with on their work in Taitung. We were soon all playing musical chairs, as Analicia, Brittany and Rachel shifted into and out of seats as they worked the room.
It's amazing to think that this is our last officially sanctioned trip to Taipei; it is also likely to be my last visit overall, since we've seen most of the city by now and it costs a lot to come here. Taipei has been a great part of my life for the last 10 months, and it's weird to think a weekend trip will soon no longer be a possibility.
So begin the "last"s...time to start saying goodbye to Fulbright.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Badminton and BBQs
I looked up to see the flickering underbelly of an airplane cross the night sky, headed West.
I turned to Maggie. "Planes make me homesick these days."
"You'll be going home soon," she said. "And we'll miss you!" added Fiona.
I turned to see Ingrid walking back towards the steep metal stairs that had brought us here, to Teacher Penguin's rooftop.
"I'll miss you, too," I said. "I wish everyone could just live in one place!"
It was hard not to think like that. We were at a BBQ at Teacher Penguin's gigantic family home--a BBQ designed as a going-away party for Ingrid.
It had been a lovely day, really. I had gotten an early start with plenty of work done; my 6th grade classes at Qingshan were happily engaged in their work of putting together their final plays; the weather was hot, but not oppressive.
After classes finished, I drove over to Hanmin, and we enacted what felt like the quintessential lazy summer day: Ingrid, Fiona and I joined Teacher Penguin and a plethora of other Hanmin teachers on the 4th floor to play badminton (NOT just a recreational sport here, as my glances to other courts confirmed). It was Ingrid and Fiona against Teacher Penguin and I, and we managed to win despite my many missed shots--Teacher Penguin is a great badminton player--and then we all sat down by a fan to cool down and chat. It was sunset, but still warm, and the camaraderie and empty school halls gave me the distinct impression of a late August evening with friends, or a particularly good afternoon at summer camp when I was a kid.
Then it was off to Teacher Penguin's home. We stopped by the house only briefly, though, before winding our way up "Penguin Mountain," a fully rural-looking hill complete with pineapple farms and banana trees JUST outside the Xiaogang area I thought I knew so well. It was gorgeous, and reminded me that I haven't been out in nature for ages, and I miss it. It felt like a camping trip back home.
And, of course, then there was the delicious--though vegetarian--BBQ that Teacher Penguin's mom had prepared for us. We sat around--a handful of Hanmin teachers and their kids and spouses, and as Teacher Penguin cracked jokes with Ingrid and everyone laughed, I thought of how amazing this community was, and how sad I was that it would soon no longer exist.
 |
| (Let's play a game called "spot the American...") |
Teacher Penguin took Fiona and I back to our scooters, and I realized it was actually time to say goodbye to Ingrid. I hate goodbyes--so, so, so much. A hug, a few words, and then--Ingrid walked home, and I got on my scooter, hating that she wouldn't be at school on Monday and hating that, in a month, neither would I.
Today was indeed a glorious day--a glorious last day. Still, at the moment I can't help but hate airplanes...
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Nerding out for a minute
Ultimate, unabashed nerd moment: Doctor Who.
If you haven't seen it, first of all, you should. Second of all, by way of explanation, it's a fantasy/sci-fi British TV show that's been around for ages in various incarnations. (Get the in-joke? No? THEN GO WATCH IT.) And, since I joined it fairly late in the game and happen to have plenty of downtime here in Taiwan, I've been playing catch-up.
Today, I got through Season 4, Episode 13: Journey. And it, together with the fact that I am still hard at work finishing up the article I've been working on, has left me with no words to write. (Spoilers...)
Not at all coincidentally, I've had this song stuck in my head for the past few days. When I first heard it, I had no idea it was from the soundtrack to Twilight; quite apart from that, Christina Perri is a great artist and so I am choosing to ignore its origins and just enjoy its beauty. I suggest you do the same--maybe just minimize this screen and listen.
If you haven't seen it, first of all, you should. Second of all, by way of explanation, it's a fantasy/sci-fi British TV show that's been around for ages in various incarnations. (Get the in-joke? No? THEN GO WATCH IT.) And, since I joined it fairly late in the game and happen to have plenty of downtime here in Taiwan, I've been playing catch-up.
Today, I got through Season 4, Episode 13: Journey. And it, together with the fact that I am still hard at work finishing up the article I've been working on, has left me with no words to write. (Spoilers...)
Not at all coincidentally, I've had this song stuck in my head for the past few days. When I first heard it, I had no idea it was from the soundtrack to Twilight; quite apart from that, Christina Perri is a great artist and so I am choosing to ignore its origins and just enjoy its beauty. I suggest you do the same--maybe just minimize this screen and listen.
300 Days
Today marks my 300th blog post. 300. Besides immediately calling to mind a certain big-budget film (THIS IS SPARTA!), 300 posts makes me realize just how close to a full year it is--just 65 days shy. And I won't even be here a full year; won't quite make that 65-day mark. Wow, the end is close.
It's fitting, then, that today Alison and I taught our 6th grade kids their graduation unit: words like "miss," and "graduation," and phrases like "Keep in touch!" and "This year was great!" and "Have a good summer!"
The classes themselves were less melancholy than that perhaps sounds--we're having them make posters for themselves and then having everyone sign each others' using the phrases we're teaching--but I can't think too hard about it, or I'll realize that we're on our last unit with the 6th graders. They graduate in three weeks, one of which will contain their final exam, rather than a class period. I only have them two more times. But I can't think about that.
To make matters even more melancholy, today was the last day that Ingrid and I were both at school: she's done with her program at the end of this week, and won't be there tomorrow because she's attending a concert. I will at least see her again Thursday--Teacher Penguin invited us to a BBQ--and I'm still hoping she'll change her mind and come to Australia with me, but all in all today was a day of choosing not to think about the many goodbyes to come.
...At least my students' posters were cheery.
...so yeah, those pictures' adorableness keeps me happy. As does the nail polish I put on today, which I just realized is SCENTED. So, my fingernails now smell like coconut deliciousness.
Goals for tomorrow:
It's fitting, then, that today Alison and I taught our 6th grade kids their graduation unit: words like "miss," and "graduation," and phrases like "Keep in touch!" and "This year was great!" and "Have a good summer!"
The classes themselves were less melancholy than that perhaps sounds--we're having them make posters for themselves and then having everyone sign each others' using the phrases we're teaching--but I can't think too hard about it, or I'll realize that we're on our last unit with the 6th graders. They graduate in three weeks, one of which will contain their final exam, rather than a class period. I only have them two more times. But I can't think about that.
To make matters even more melancholy, today was the last day that Ingrid and I were both at school: she's done with her program at the end of this week, and won't be there tomorrow because she's attending a concert. I will at least see her again Thursday--Teacher Penguin invited us to a BBQ--and I'm still hoping she'll change her mind and come to Australia with me, but all in all today was a day of choosing not to think about the many goodbyes to come.
...At least my students' posters were cheery.
...so yeah, those pictures' adorableness keeps me happy. As does the nail polish I put on today, which I just realized is SCENTED. So, my fingernails now smell like coconut deliciousness.
Goals for tomorrow:
- Don't cry at the thought of goodbyes
- Don't spend all day sniffing your fingernails
Monday, May 21, 2012
Hope you like rats!
This morning, I arrived at Hanmin to find some little treasures awaiting me in my desk. The first was a set of pictures the school photographer took of Alison and I for the yearbook which finally got printed; the second was even better. A big manila envelope containing dozens of postcards from Oregon.
I've mentioned before that Hanmin has a pen pal exchange going with the school my mom teaches at back home. What we've learned, however, is that, slow mail speeds aside, it takes a VERY long time to get dozens of individual students to write and turn in their letters. As a result of that, compounded with schedule irregularities and tests, it took us nearly 3 months this time to send the American kids the responses to their letters.
In the mean time, apparently, some of them got anxious (and/or were prompted by their teachers) and sent a bunch of post cards! So, though our latest responses should be in their hands soon (if they're not there already), we also have a good number of gorgeous pictures of Oregon addressed to about half of the Taiwanese pen pals. And, today, Ingrid and I amused ourselves by reading through them.
They were hilarious. My personal favorite was the one that focused on the student's new-purchased pet rats. To sign off, she wrote, "Hope you like rats!" Indeed--if her pen pal doesn't, she'll be awfully disappointed by her letter!
Ingrid's favorite also followed the animal theme: the student told his pen pal that his family had just bought some chickens--"not to eat, but as pets." He then proceeded to tell the chickens' names: Omelet, Scrambled, and Poached. But hey, at least it wasn't "Fried!"
Other joys were the homemade postcards. One was of a pink illustrated dragon (no, not one from pop culture, just a random drawing); another was an amazingly drawn picture of a deer leaping next to a stream, all surrounded with what looked like a gilt frame. Astounding creativity.
I spent several of my breaks today sorting the post cards out between the 5th and 6th grade students here. They'll be overjoyed to receive them, I know--so much so that maybe this time we'll manage a faster response time than 3 months. But how could we not, with such lovely messages as "Hope you like rats!"
I've mentioned before that Hanmin has a pen pal exchange going with the school my mom teaches at back home. What we've learned, however, is that, slow mail speeds aside, it takes a VERY long time to get dozens of individual students to write and turn in their letters. As a result of that, compounded with schedule irregularities and tests, it took us nearly 3 months this time to send the American kids the responses to their letters.
In the mean time, apparently, some of them got anxious (and/or were prompted by their teachers) and sent a bunch of post cards! So, though our latest responses should be in their hands soon (if they're not there already), we also have a good number of gorgeous pictures of Oregon addressed to about half of the Taiwanese pen pals. And, today, Ingrid and I amused ourselves by reading through them.
They were hilarious. My personal favorite was the one that focused on the student's new-purchased pet rats. To sign off, she wrote, "Hope you like rats!" Indeed--if her pen pal doesn't, she'll be awfully disappointed by her letter!
Ingrid's favorite also followed the animal theme: the student told his pen pal that his family had just bought some chickens--"not to eat, but as pets." He then proceeded to tell the chickens' names: Omelet, Scrambled, and Poached. But hey, at least it wasn't "Fried!"
Other joys were the homemade postcards. One was of a pink illustrated dragon (no, not one from pop culture, just a random drawing); another was an amazingly drawn picture of a deer leaping next to a stream, all surrounded with what looked like a gilt frame. Astounding creativity.
I spent several of my breaks today sorting the post cards out between the 5th and 6th grade students here. They'll be overjoyed to receive them, I know--so much so that maybe this time we'll manage a faster response time than 3 months. But how could we not, with such lovely messages as "Hope you like rats!"
Inventing Boxes, Checking Them Off
I had quite a pleasant day, all told. As it burns down, now, I feel accomplished and happy to have got so much done. There's only one problem: I didn't.
I've probably mentioned it on here before, but I'm a list person. When I have a lot to do, or I start feeling overwhelmed, I break down what I have to do into steps, write the steps down with a little empty box next to them, and get to work checking those babies off. And when I check them off, oh, how accomplished and happy I feel. So yes, in other words, I might be a bit type A.
Where this system fails, though, is that I'm the person who determines what gets written down. Further, each box is just a box; regardless of the size or relative importance of the task, it falls simply into the categories of "done" or "not done." So what happens when I just want to get the great little feeling of having done something? I invent new things to do, of course!
So, what did I do today? I chopped my article-writing bit into three new elements, and finished two (yay!). I vacuumed my room (yay!). I sorted through all the paperwork in my room and got rid of half of it (yay!). I reorganized my bedside drawer (yay!). And what did I not do? Either of the bigger-picture boxes I'd originally slotted for today: finish ALL of the five parts of my article-writing, and finish and submit my final report for Fulbright. Those boxes are still empty.
But, psychologically speaking, who cares? My boxes are checked, hooray!
*SIDE NOTE: Really, though, this system does still work: smaller bits at a time get accomplished, but the little high each of those finishings give me is usually enough to inspire me to work through the next, rather than get bogged down by the hugeness of the entire task. Just give it another day or two.*
I've probably mentioned it on here before, but I'm a list person. When I have a lot to do, or I start feeling overwhelmed, I break down what I have to do into steps, write the steps down with a little empty box next to them, and get to work checking those babies off. And when I check them off, oh, how accomplished and happy I feel. So yes, in other words, I might be a bit type A.
Where this system fails, though, is that I'm the person who determines what gets written down. Further, each box is just a box; regardless of the size or relative importance of the task, it falls simply into the categories of "done" or "not done." So what happens when I just want to get the great little feeling of having done something? I invent new things to do, of course!
So, what did I do today? I chopped my article-writing bit into three new elements, and finished two (yay!). I vacuumed my room (yay!). I sorted through all the paperwork in my room and got rid of half of it (yay!). I reorganized my bedside drawer (yay!). And what did I not do? Either of the bigger-picture boxes I'd originally slotted for today: finish ALL of the five parts of my article-writing, and finish and submit my final report for Fulbright. Those boxes are still empty.
But, psychologically speaking, who cares? My boxes are checked, hooray!
*SIDE NOTE: Really, though, this system does still work: smaller bits at a time get accomplished, but the little high each of those finishings give me is usually enough to inspire me to work through the next, rather than get bogged down by the hugeness of the entire task. Just give it another day or two.*
Saturday, May 19, 2012
The sound of rain
I woke up today determined to be at my most productive: I would finish the article I'm working on, and then maybe get to work on some of the other projects I've been putting off recently. I got up, got ready, grabbed my stuff, and headed to the local Starbucks. Then I sat down, opened my computer, and realized something--it just wasn't there.
For the next few hours, I forced myself to write SOMEthing, anyway, and I did get quite a volume of somethings into a Word document. The thing is, those somethings were essentially crap, and painful crap at that. (Sorry for the comparison.) The thing about writing is it has to focus, and today my focusing abilities were nonexistent, not just in my writing but in my entire outlook on the day.
Gabrielle, a fellow Fulbrighter up in Yilan, said it well: "There's something in the air in Taiwan today."
And, really, if it's in the air, who can fight it? So I came home, where I divided my time on a minute-by-minute basis between TV shows, several books, and several websites (whenever the shows were loading: MAN I hate buffering on a slowish connection...). Essentially, I couldn't even focus while slacking off. And you KNOW that's bad.
As I type this, my window is open, and I can look down to see my courtyard filling with water as the rain falls steadily down. I've mentioned it before, but I LOVE the sound of rain. Today, though, my theory is that it's the rain that's making me ADD: millions of drops falling all over the city, soothing me into thinking I'm back in the PNW, and that maybe, just maybe, that means it's cool outside and I should go inside and get work done. Then I remember all that's a lie, and it ALL becomes a lie, including the part about focus. Oh well--at least I get to listen to the rain.
Anyway, in my Internet wanderings, I discovered some cool things, including how best to outfit your pets for war and the fact that I am 65% addicted to Facebook, though today's level of checking may imply that that's false. In any case, that's what I did today. Here's hoping tomorrow is more productive--but without losing the lovely sound of rain.
For the next few hours, I forced myself to write SOMEthing, anyway, and I did get quite a volume of somethings into a Word document. The thing is, those somethings were essentially crap, and painful crap at that. (Sorry for the comparison.) The thing about writing is it has to focus, and today my focusing abilities were nonexistent, not just in my writing but in my entire outlook on the day.
Gabrielle, a fellow Fulbrighter up in Yilan, said it well: "There's something in the air in Taiwan today."
And, really, if it's in the air, who can fight it? So I came home, where I divided my time on a minute-by-minute basis between TV shows, several books, and several websites (whenever the shows were loading: MAN I hate buffering on a slowish connection...). Essentially, I couldn't even focus while slacking off. And you KNOW that's bad.
As I type this, my window is open, and I can look down to see my courtyard filling with water as the rain falls steadily down. I've mentioned it before, but I LOVE the sound of rain. Today, though, my theory is that it's the rain that's making me ADD: millions of drops falling all over the city, soothing me into thinking I'm back in the PNW, and that maybe, just maybe, that means it's cool outside and I should go inside and get work done. Then I remember all that's a lie, and it ALL becomes a lie, including the part about focus. Oh well--at least I get to listen to the rain.
Anyway, in my Internet wanderings, I discovered some cool things, including how best to outfit your pets for war and the fact that I am 65% addicted to Facebook, though today's level of checking may imply that that's false. In any case, that's what I did today. Here's hoping tomorrow is more productive--but without losing the lovely sound of rain.
Small Talk
Small talk. Used daily by everyone, yet spoken of with sneering cynicism: the weather? The local sports team? Who cares! Well, as it turns out, everyone--or, at least, they would if they knew what life without it would be like.
One of the little things you don't think about missing when you move to another country is the ability to have a conversation with the person ringing up your groceries. Yet, as it happens, once you're actually in another country, it's one of the first things you notice, and one of the single largest drivers for you to work harder to learn whatever language it is that the grocery checkers (and, hopefully, everyone else) happen to speak.
It really is amazing, though. After nine and a half months here in Taiwan, being able to have those tiny, meaningless conversations with the random people you see every day is one of the single biggest things I miss. Of course, I learned long ago the questions and answers needed for a basic check-out: numbers, how much, change, rewards card, bagging, etc. Those are just logistics, though; mechanical and automated, they aren't real conversations at all. Those are much harder; those are what I aim for with every Chinese class I attend (we don't follow a book, so it's basically Tiffiany and I asking our teacher to cover whatever topics we want to know). Listening and understanding is one thing--following what the other person is saying is usually the easy part. It's being able to respond that's hard, and that I'm still very intently working on.
All this to say, it's a minor celebration for me whenever I actually can have a little conversation with the people I interact with during the day. Whether they're a cab driver or a mom on a scooter asking me what grade I teach (happened a few weeks ago at Qingshan), it's always so exciting for me if I can talk with them--about anything. And today? I had two conversations.
My first one was at the fruit stand. My roommates and I usually frequent a certain fruit stand down the street: their prices are good, and it's pretty close, both to our apartment, and to a grocery store and the major road that leads to the gym. All factors highly in its favor. Not in its favor, however, is the man who works there. Brittany has dubbed him "Nasty Mouth" because, his age notwithstanding (he's probably in his 30s), he's missing countless teeth, with those remaining emaciated red stubs. Beyond this, he's notoriously hard to talk to (hard to understand him because of his lack of teeth, if nothing else), and yet he insists on holding long conversations with us when we're there, a fact which is made more difficult by his apparent, and very awkward, obsession with us. I've actually started avoiding the stand because I don't like interacting with him.
Today, however, I was thinking with my wallet, so I stopped on over. And, once there, I discovered a wonderful thing: he wasn't working! In his place was a lovely older Taiwanese woman (Rachel later told me she's his mother), with whom I had a nice, if short, conversation about the watermelons I was considering getting--whether they were good; whether they were red or yellow; whether red or yellow watermelons tasted better. It was such a small thing, yet it was so wonderful--besides restoring my estimation of the fruit stand (on Friday afternoons, anyway, since apparently that's when she works), it was a little touch of human contact in Chinese. And I was able to participate.
The second one was at 7-11 tonight. I absolutely love one of the ladies who works there, a middle aged woman who is always so friendly and helpful and who--and this is important--always makes an effort to speak to me, but in a slow, measured way such that I can understand her. Tonight, the topic of discussion was what I was doing here, studying or working. I told her I was an English teacher, and then she asked where. I told her, and she identified the district and we said goodbye. Such a small moment; such small talk.
But it was small talk. In Chinese. And I could participate. Life is good.
One of the little things you don't think about missing when you move to another country is the ability to have a conversation with the person ringing up your groceries. Yet, as it happens, once you're actually in another country, it's one of the first things you notice, and one of the single largest drivers for you to work harder to learn whatever language it is that the grocery checkers (and, hopefully, everyone else) happen to speak.
It really is amazing, though. After nine and a half months here in Taiwan, being able to have those tiny, meaningless conversations with the random people you see every day is one of the single biggest things I miss. Of course, I learned long ago the questions and answers needed for a basic check-out: numbers, how much, change, rewards card, bagging, etc. Those are just logistics, though; mechanical and automated, they aren't real conversations at all. Those are much harder; those are what I aim for with every Chinese class I attend (we don't follow a book, so it's basically Tiffiany and I asking our teacher to cover whatever topics we want to know). Listening and understanding is one thing--following what the other person is saying is usually the easy part. It's being able to respond that's hard, and that I'm still very intently working on.
All this to say, it's a minor celebration for me whenever I actually can have a little conversation with the people I interact with during the day. Whether they're a cab driver or a mom on a scooter asking me what grade I teach (happened a few weeks ago at Qingshan), it's always so exciting for me if I can talk with them--about anything. And today? I had two conversations.
My first one was at the fruit stand. My roommates and I usually frequent a certain fruit stand down the street: their prices are good, and it's pretty close, both to our apartment, and to a grocery store and the major road that leads to the gym. All factors highly in its favor. Not in its favor, however, is the man who works there. Brittany has dubbed him "Nasty Mouth" because, his age notwithstanding (he's probably in his 30s), he's missing countless teeth, with those remaining emaciated red stubs. Beyond this, he's notoriously hard to talk to (hard to understand him because of his lack of teeth, if nothing else), and yet he insists on holding long conversations with us when we're there, a fact which is made more difficult by his apparent, and very awkward, obsession with us. I've actually started avoiding the stand because I don't like interacting with him.
Today, however, I was thinking with my wallet, so I stopped on over. And, once there, I discovered a wonderful thing: he wasn't working! In his place was a lovely older Taiwanese woman (Rachel later told me she's his mother), with whom I had a nice, if short, conversation about the watermelons I was considering getting--whether they were good; whether they were red or yellow; whether red or yellow watermelons tasted better. It was such a small thing, yet it was so wonderful--besides restoring my estimation of the fruit stand (on Friday afternoons, anyway, since apparently that's when she works), it was a little touch of human contact in Chinese. And I was able to participate.
The second one was at 7-11 tonight. I absolutely love one of the ladies who works there, a middle aged woman who is always so friendly and helpful and who--and this is important--always makes an effort to speak to me, but in a slow, measured way such that I can understand her. Tonight, the topic of discussion was what I was doing here, studying or working. I told her I was an English teacher, and then she asked where. I told her, and she identified the district and we said goodbye. Such a small moment; such small talk.
But it was small talk. In Chinese. And I could participate. Life is good.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Writing woes
I had something to say today. I swear I did. Just a few hours ago I was at my computer doing something else entirely unrelated (working on a graduation speech for one of my schools, actually), and I was like "oh, I can write that in my blog today!" I followed up that thought by glancing through my current 7-day spread of posts on my blog, and getting excited that my last really worthless post would move to the archives once I posted today. (Yesterday's doesn't fall into that category because, come on, movies!)
But now, here I am, writing once again about the troubles of writing. And I know that no one, myself included, wants to read this stuff. These posts seem to be multiplying these days, a fact I'm none too proud of.
Part of it is, undoubtedly, that I've just been here long enough and written enough posts that I'm running out of topics for daily posting. But, lest you think it is just me being lazy, I need to point out now that I'm also simultaneously working on four other writing projects of various lengths and importance (including the aforementioned speech), so at least my pledge to write something daily is in full force, and likely in greater force than it has been at any other point of this year.
So that's where my creativity's going. Sorry it's not showing up here.
But now, here I am, writing once again about the troubles of writing. And I know that no one, myself included, wants to read this stuff. These posts seem to be multiplying these days, a fact I'm none too proud of.
Part of it is, undoubtedly, that I've just been here long enough and written enough posts that I'm running out of topics for daily posting. But, lest you think it is just me being lazy, I need to point out now that I'm also simultaneously working on four other writing projects of various lengths and importance (including the aforementioned speech), so at least my pledge to write something daily is in full force, and likely in greater force than it has been at any other point of this year.
So that's where my creativity's going. Sorry it's not showing up here.
 |
| But hey, look! A silly picture of me wearing lens-less pink glasses whose earpieces are made of pens! A belated birthday present from a student. :) |
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Placeholder
Well, it's something. It should have been--and will be, later--a post containing a video of one of my sixth grade classes performing their dialogue while acting like a chicken/monkey/alien/dinosaur (different parts for different kids, not one big hybrid).
It should also have revealed to the world what I discovered today: that one of my 6th grade boys looks remarkably like a young, Asian version of Josh Radnor (aka Ted Mosby from How I Met Your Mother).
But alas, not tonight. I'll add it later, though, I promise--too good to pass up.
As promised! The boy in the middle (both videos): does he not remind you of Ted?
It should also have revealed to the world what I discovered today: that one of my 6th grade boys looks remarkably like a young, Asian version of Josh Radnor (aka Ted Mosby from How I Met Your Mother).
But alas, not tonight. I'll add it later, though, I promise--too good to pass up.
As promised! The boy in the middle (both videos): does he not remind you of Ted?
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Cockroach
"老師很怕!"
The boys in the front few rows looked back and forth between me and the floor, trying to figure out whether they should believe what they were saying. Jay's eyes showed bemused uncertainty as they shifted: Was it true? Was Teacher Bekah really afraid?
Yes. Yes, to some extent I was.
Why? Well, because the thing crawling around on the floor was a cockroach. Yes, a cockroach, yet there was no screaming, and little panic, just all the students' eyes in the area glued to the ground; every now and then, I saw one of them pick up a bag or something which had apparently gotten in the way.
To reassure me in my apparent unease, Alison turned to me and said "It's okay, it's not a rat."
Wait, it's a possibility that it could have been a rat? Annnd there go the days when I thought my feet were safe walking around school.
Now, I've largely gotten used to cockroaches here in Taiwan; despite never having seen one outside of a cage before I moved here, I feel like I've adjusted pretty well. After the first few encounters were past, they became a normal, if unnerving, sight. I can now kill and dispose of them as needed, and though they still startle me if, for instance, they appear from nowhere inside the toilet bowl (it's happened), and I can't fathom what Rachel had to go through with finding one in her helmet--after driving to school with it on (yup, also happened), I can usually deal with them OK.
But see, when I say "deal with them," I mean "kill them in the quickest way possible and dispose of the body." Apparently, though, a cockroach in a classroom here is not that big a deal--not even as big of a deal as a bee in a classroom (which I encountered a few months ago but I can't seem to find the post to link it...). The reaction today was, at least initially, "carry on!" After a bit my nervousness and the kids' distraction prompted us to try to kill it, but even then, when it scurried out from under foot, everything went back to normal, and no one seemed to mind--not Alison, not the kids, and not the homeroom teacher, whose desk was right next to the bookcase it had sought for cover. Just me.
So yeah, I was a bit scared. Because, in my book, there's nothing quite so bad as something dirty and shifty that you know is there but that you can't see. Apart from that, my day was great--we had an acting competition involving kids as chickens and robots, and a game with "punishments" like turning in a circle 10 times, patting your head and rubbing your stomach, and--always a crowd favorite--giving someone else a hug.
So it was a great day--except for the part with the cockroach. Yes, Jay, I was a little scared. Do you blame me?
The boys in the front few rows looked back and forth between me and the floor, trying to figure out whether they should believe what they were saying. Jay's eyes showed bemused uncertainty as they shifted: Was it true? Was Teacher Bekah really afraid?
Yes. Yes, to some extent I was.
Why? Well, because the thing crawling around on the floor was a cockroach. Yes, a cockroach, yet there was no screaming, and little panic, just all the students' eyes in the area glued to the ground; every now and then, I saw one of them pick up a bag or something which had apparently gotten in the way.
To reassure me in my apparent unease, Alison turned to me and said "It's okay, it's not a rat."
Wait, it's a possibility that it could have been a rat? Annnd there go the days when I thought my feet were safe walking around school.
Now, I've largely gotten used to cockroaches here in Taiwan; despite never having seen one outside of a cage before I moved here, I feel like I've adjusted pretty well. After the first few encounters were past, they became a normal, if unnerving, sight. I can now kill and dispose of them as needed, and though they still startle me if, for instance, they appear from nowhere inside the toilet bowl (it's happened), and I can't fathom what Rachel had to go through with finding one in her helmet--after driving to school with it on (yup, also happened), I can usually deal with them OK.
But see, when I say "deal with them," I mean "kill them in the quickest way possible and dispose of the body." Apparently, though, a cockroach in a classroom here is not that big a deal--not even as big of a deal as a bee in a classroom (which I encountered a few months ago but I can't seem to find the post to link it...). The reaction today was, at least initially, "carry on!" After a bit my nervousness and the kids' distraction prompted us to try to kill it, but even then, when it scurried out from under foot, everything went back to normal, and no one seemed to mind--not Alison, not the kids, and not the homeroom teacher, whose desk was right next to the bookcase it had sought for cover. Just me.
So yeah, I was a bit scared. Because, in my book, there's nothing quite so bad as something dirty and shifty that you know is there but that you can't see. Apart from that, my day was great--we had an acting competition involving kids as chickens and robots, and a game with "punishments" like turning in a circle 10 times, patting your head and rubbing your stomach, and--always a crowd favorite--giving someone else a hug.
So it was a great day--except for the part with the cockroach. Yes, Jay, I was a little scared. Do you blame me?
Monday, May 14, 2012
Sweat, etc.
It's back, and in full force. Today, the high was 30C (~87*F), plus a balmy 80% humidity and sunlight the brightness of which could definitely burn through any sunblock you dared to set up against it. The heat. It's here.
And it's not come alone: it's brought its faithful companion, sweat. What joy is ours.
I grew up in the Pacific Northwest. We don't get a lot of days above the 80s (F) there, and no one really talks about humidity because there's never enough of it to matter. As a result, sweat was a pretty foreign concept to me before I came here. Sure, people sweat, but usually just a little, and usually just when they've been working out or something.
Not so here. It took less than a month here for me to buy a little washrag to take with me everywhere; a little more than a month to realize wearing makeup was a futile waste of money. Then the heat waned; Kaohsiung's pleasant Fall and Winter approached, and I even had to don a coat a few times. But no more. Now the heat's returned, and, with it, the sweat.
Why am I writing about sweat? It's simple, really: it's the closest thing I have to a uniting force of my day today. It was certainly ever-present, anyway.
This morning, I arrived at school with my hair in low pigtails--a response to its newly cropped length which doesn't allow for any other sort of hairstyle that would simultaneously fit under my helmet and keep my hair off my neck. I didn't want to sweat. But what had I unfortunately forgotten as I styled my hair? Oh yeah: the interview.
Today, my LETs applied for the Fulbright program for next year. Seeing as how the interview fell in the middle of a school day, and involved all of the people that I usually share classes with, Hanmin asked if I would accompany them to the interview. Which I did--IN PIGTAILS. So much for professionalism.
The interview went fine--I mostly just sat there as moral support, though I did manage to throw in a quick plug for my schools right before we left--and then we went out to lunch at a local duck noodle shop. There, I had a bit of a problem with my chopsticks--they were slipping out of my fingers. No, not because I don't know how to use chopsticks--believe me, it's second nature at this point--it was because of sweat. And that's when I realized: it's back!
Thankfully, my heat annoyance was soon relieved by a SCRUMPTIOUS visit to a shave ice place with Hanmin's principal, academic director, and Maggie (a visit which meant we were 20 minutes late to our next class, but hey! We had the principal's and the academic director's explicit permission!)
The heat continued to plague my day in various forms which, thankfully, had less to do with sweat. My shoes began to fall apart and blister my feet, which sucked, and I got really thirsty, which also sucked.
It also impacted my favorite moment of the day: the moment a gaggle of 6th grade girls stretched my birthday into a second week, crowding my desk and handing me notes written on paper shaped like Facebook "like"s, a box of cute chocolate (like what Analicia got me!), some almond cookies, and a big ol' chocolate bar. It was so nice of them, and they were so wonderful, yet what was I worried about? The heat. And the chocolate.
All I can say is "Thank goodness for refrigerators!"...And AC. It's the one surefire way to get out of the heat, and so to avoid melting--whether chocolate or self.
And it's not come alone: it's brought its faithful companion, sweat. What joy is ours.
I grew up in the Pacific Northwest. We don't get a lot of days above the 80s (F) there, and no one really talks about humidity because there's never enough of it to matter. As a result, sweat was a pretty foreign concept to me before I came here. Sure, people sweat, but usually just a little, and usually just when they've been working out or something.
Not so here. It took less than a month here for me to buy a little washrag to take with me everywhere; a little more than a month to realize wearing makeup was a futile waste of money. Then the heat waned; Kaohsiung's pleasant Fall and Winter approached, and I even had to don a coat a few times. But no more. Now the heat's returned, and, with it, the sweat.
Why am I writing about sweat? It's simple, really: it's the closest thing I have to a uniting force of my day today. It was certainly ever-present, anyway.
This morning, I arrived at school with my hair in low pigtails--a response to its newly cropped length which doesn't allow for any other sort of hairstyle that would simultaneously fit under my helmet and keep my hair off my neck. I didn't want to sweat. But what had I unfortunately forgotten as I styled my hair? Oh yeah: the interview.
Today, my LETs applied for the Fulbright program for next year. Seeing as how the interview fell in the middle of a school day, and involved all of the people that I usually share classes with, Hanmin asked if I would accompany them to the interview. Which I did--IN PIGTAILS. So much for professionalism.
The interview went fine--I mostly just sat there as moral support, though I did manage to throw in a quick plug for my schools right before we left--and then we went out to lunch at a local duck noodle shop. There, I had a bit of a problem with my chopsticks--they were slipping out of my fingers. No, not because I don't know how to use chopsticks--believe me, it's second nature at this point--it was because of sweat. And that's when I realized: it's back!
Thankfully, my heat annoyance was soon relieved by a SCRUMPTIOUS visit to a shave ice place with Hanmin's principal, academic director, and Maggie (a visit which meant we were 20 minutes late to our next class, but hey! We had the principal's and the academic director's explicit permission!)
The heat continued to plague my day in various forms which, thankfully, had less to do with sweat. My shoes began to fall apart and blister my feet, which sucked, and I got really thirsty, which also sucked.
It also impacted my favorite moment of the day: the moment a gaggle of 6th grade girls stretched my birthday into a second week, crowding my desk and handing me notes written on paper shaped like Facebook "like"s, a box of cute chocolate (like what Analicia got me!), some almond cookies, and a big ol' chocolate bar. It was so nice of them, and they were so wonderful, yet what was I worried about? The heat. And the chocolate.
 |
| Thanks for the likes, Mandy, Anna, Lillian, Natasha, and Cindy! |
 |
| Favorite parts: "Fo" Bekah Teacher and the squares bottom left--each with a different design and different type of chocolate inside! |
Thinking, not doing
Just another day. Nothing to report. So why bother reporting anything, you ask? Because I can't help myself. 291 posts. I've come this far, and I now have just a month and a half until my grant period is over; just a month and a half until my daily compulsory blogging finishes; just a month and a half until I will no longer be 百合, but just Bekah, once again.
At that point, I'll reevaluate my blogging policy. I can already tell you it will not involve daily posts with nothing to say; beyond that, who's to say. I have grown the greatest respect for bloggers who manage to be more entertaining more frequently than I am; I am always ashamed to post a post like this one, essentially all fluff and navel-gazing with no real content whatsoever.
But what can I do. Today was just another day.
At that point, I'll reevaluate my blogging policy. I can already tell you it will not involve daily posts with nothing to say; beyond that, who's to say. I have grown the greatest respect for bloggers who manage to be more entertaining more frequently than I am; I am always ashamed to post a post like this one, essentially all fluff and navel-gazing with no real content whatsoever.
But what can I do. Today was just another day.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Birthday
What a lovely day. Really, truly lovely, populated by wonderful people, foods, and times. Nothing exciting, but that's okay with me; oddly, my experience here has done nothing so much as reinforce me in the belief that being alone sometimes is not only okay, but great. So today was a fantastic mixture of being alone and being in company: perfection.
The morning existed in the best possible way for Saturday mornings to exist: sleep.
Then I got to chat with my mom and dad (though my dad fell asleep while I did...hardly an inspiring reason to come home, Dad! ;) ) via Skype, and open the fabulous presents they got me which had been staring at me since they arrived with Alex and Melanie more than a month ago.
Then I got free Starbucks and (as odd as it may sound for a voluntary activity on a Saturday which was also my birthday) got some stuff done. I finished editing the current chapter of the thesis I'm working on for a local grad student, made good headway writing a piece I'm working on for one of my university's publications, got some reading in courtesy of the wonderful Flannery O'Connor, and was inspired for a potential music video parody about foreigners abroad. (Stay tuned on the writing and music video projects; they will hopefully come to fruition soon.)
By then, it was time for dinner, a great and fabulously Western affair at Foster Hewitt's, a Canadian place in Zuoying where I joined my host sister Emily, Karina, and Analicia for a delicious 5-cheese hamburger and potato wedges (POTATOES!!!!), washed down with fresh strawberry-lime soda and followed by a brownie sundae which was, thanks to Analicia's efforts, garnished with a lit sprinkler. Thankfully, the owner respected my wish that they NOT sing to me. (After all, when you've had several choruses of adorable students serenade you all week, sometimes trilingually, there's just no going back to half-hearted restaurant employees.) Analicia and Emily had great gifts of chocolate and a teddy bear and sweet-smelling soap for me, just to round out the amazingness. :)
At home again, I got in some more reading and TV-watching, which was absolutely wonderful. And so ends my week of birthday--though not quite, really, since it's only 11:30am on my birthday at home right now, meaning birthday wishes will keep pouring in on Facebook for a good many more hours. This is undoubtedly the longest, and may be one of the best, birthdays I've ever had.
The morning existed in the best possible way for Saturday mornings to exist: sleep.
Then I got to chat with my mom and dad (though my dad fell asleep while I did...hardly an inspiring reason to come home, Dad! ;) ) via Skype, and open the fabulous presents they got me which had been staring at me since they arrived with Alex and Melanie more than a month ago.
Then I got free Starbucks and (as odd as it may sound for a voluntary activity on a Saturday which was also my birthday) got some stuff done. I finished editing the current chapter of the thesis I'm working on for a local grad student, made good headway writing a piece I'm working on for one of my university's publications, got some reading in courtesy of the wonderful Flannery O'Connor, and was inspired for a potential music video parody about foreigners abroad. (Stay tuned on the writing and music video projects; they will hopefully come to fruition soon.)
By then, it was time for dinner, a great and fabulously Western affair at Foster Hewitt's, a Canadian place in Zuoying where I joined my host sister Emily, Karina, and Analicia for a delicious 5-cheese hamburger and potato wedges (POTATOES!!!!), washed down with fresh strawberry-lime soda and followed by a brownie sundae which was, thanks to Analicia's efforts, garnished with a lit sprinkler. Thankfully, the owner respected my wish that they NOT sing to me. (After all, when you've had several choruses of adorable students serenade you all week, sometimes trilingually, there's just no going back to half-hearted restaurant employees.) Analicia and Emily had great gifts of chocolate and a teddy bear and sweet-smelling soap for me, just to round out the amazingness. :)
 |
| New shirt from home! Thanks Mom and Dad! |
 |
| Soooooo gooooooooooood! |
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Mothers and Surprises
If I had written a real post yesterday, it would have been on mothers: we taught a cultural lesson on Mother's Day to the 5th and 6th graders at Qingshan, and I was amazed and saddened at some of the things I heard my students say. I found it particularly shocking because it's become amply clear to me that Mother's Day is a much bigger thing here than in America, and honor for your parents is an absolutely crucial component of the culture.
Still, it was sad to see how many of my kids had nothing good to say about their moms; our activity was a fill-in-the-blanks letter for their mom (or grandma or aunt or dad or...), and I know enough Chinese to know what they wanted to use to fill in the blanks was significantly less than flattering (one memorable boy's first attempt to finish "My favorite thing about you is..." was 你的大的屁股). Other answers were less inappropriate, and more heartbreaking. I'm sure a large part of it was because yesterday was the 6th graders, but it still served to remind me of how incredibly lucky I am to have my Mom. She's awesome.
Today was different, and confirmed my 6th-grade theory: with the 5th graders, while there were still a few complaints, what I heard more of was "do I have to choose just one thing to say about her? Can't I say my favorite thing about her is her smile and how fun she is?" That was lovely to hear. I also rather enjoyed seeing the drawings they did of their moms. Here is my favorite--and no, this does not mean he has a horrible home life; his mom is a teacher at Qingshan and is a wonderful person.
Yes, according to that picture, Zack's mom is Godzilla. Something tells me she'd be less than thrilled at the comparison...I like it, though! Added a smile to my day.
And there were plenty of smiles to be had today! Halfway through our fourth and final class of the day, Patty and the class of 5-3 surprised me with a birthday celebration! Patty had bought me a cake (one of the BEST cakes I have ever had in my life--vanilla with frosting layers of chocolate frosting and fruit) and some fabulously blingbling的 earrings, and all of my students, 5th and 6th graders together, had signed a MASSIVE card for me.
Another hugely popular gift was boxes filled with 300 paper stars: I got two today, one in a silver box, and one in a pink pig music box. Kiki and Sherry also assured me that they were making me one, but hadn't finished yet. Apparently, it's a tradition akin to making 1,000 origami cranes in Japan; it brings good luck! Here's what my silver box looks like (once I've turned it on its side and artfully dumped the stars into the lid, that is):
Another lovely moment of the day was the several students--several bearing gifts or cards--who Patty prompted to the front to take a picture with me. One of them, Kevin, apparently said he was going to kiss me, and I got a little worried, but he didn't. Here's Kevin and I:
...and here are Judy, Angela, and a boy whose name I can't remember at the moment, but who was in the crew of people making stars for the pig music box. :)
So many lovely surprises today! This year, my birthday has brought such a wonderful store of love flowing from so many wonderful people at both of my schools. I'm eternally grateful to all of them! Today restored my faith, not only in kids' views of their mothers, but in the belief that Taiwanese people are the best people on Earth. Period. Thank you all so much! It's not even my birthday yet (okay fine it's 2am...), and yet this ranks among my best ever because of you. Thank you!
Still, it was sad to see how many of my kids had nothing good to say about their moms; our activity was a fill-in-the-blanks letter for their mom (or grandma or aunt or dad or...), and I know enough Chinese to know what they wanted to use to fill in the blanks was significantly less than flattering (one memorable boy's first attempt to finish "My favorite thing about you is..." was 你的大的屁股). Other answers were less inappropriate, and more heartbreaking. I'm sure a large part of it was because yesterday was the 6th graders, but it still served to remind me of how incredibly lucky I am to have my Mom. She's awesome.
Today was different, and confirmed my 6th-grade theory: with the 5th graders, while there were still a few complaints, what I heard more of was "do I have to choose just one thing to say about her? Can't I say my favorite thing about her is her smile and how fun she is?" That was lovely to hear. I also rather enjoyed seeing the drawings they did of their moms. Here is my favorite--and no, this does not mean he has a horrible home life; his mom is a teacher at Qingshan and is a wonderful person.
Yes, according to that picture, Zack's mom is Godzilla. Something tells me she'd be less than thrilled at the comparison...I like it, though! Added a smile to my day.
And there were plenty of smiles to be had today! Halfway through our fourth and final class of the day, Patty and the class of 5-3 surprised me with a birthday celebration! Patty had bought me a cake (one of the BEST cakes I have ever had in my life--vanilla with frosting layers of chocolate frosting and fruit) and some fabulously blingbling的 earrings, and all of my students, 5th and 6th graders together, had signed a MASSIVE card for me.
 |
| Just a few samplings of their glorious work :) |
 |
| Beautiful, scrumptious cake! |
 |
| 西瓜甜不甜? |
 |
| Gifts. <3! Pink bow and yellow barrette from Kitty and Linda; bracelet came without a card, pretty earrings from Patty! |
Another lovely moment of the day was the several students--several bearing gifts or cards--who Patty prompted to the front to take a picture with me. One of them, Kevin, apparently said he was going to kiss me, and I got a little worried, but he didn't. Here's Kevin and I:
...and here are Judy, Angela, and a boy whose name I can't remember at the moment, but who was in the crew of people making stars for the pig music box. :)
So many lovely surprises today! This year, my birthday has brought such a wonderful store of love flowing from so many wonderful people at both of my schools. I'm eternally grateful to all of them! Today restored my faith, not only in kids' views of their mothers, but in the belief that Taiwanese people are the best people on Earth. Period. Thank you all so much! It's not even my birthday yet (okay fine it's 2am...), and yet this ranks among my best ever because of you. Thank you!
Friday, May 11, 2012
The thing is...
...that I woke up at a decent hour today and was productive with my pre-class day. (On Thursdays, classes for me start at 1:30pm.) After classes, I've been chilling, and it's now past 1am. As a result of the productivity, I didn't get my usual store-up amount of sleep; as a result of the time, I'm no tired.
So...this is one of my non-post post days. Sometimes you've just gotta have 'em.
So...this is one of my non-post post days. Sometimes you've just gotta have 'em.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Blessed
Ingrid had a question about writing characters. I leaned across my desk and towards her, explaining stroke order and trying to reconcile her calligraphy teacher's and a student's rendition of the word "是" when I heard a commotion behind me. I turned--and there stood Maggie, Alison, Fiona and about 15 of my students, bearing a beautiful chocolate cake and shouting "Happy birthday!"
We lit the candles and they sang for me (including Ingrid's raucous Dutch addendum to the song, which I rather loved), and I made a wish. And then they revealed that not only had they bought me a gorgeous cake, they had cancelled the school lunch and brought in teas for everyone, and duck and crepes from a famous local shop. And they had bought me a present!
For not actually being my birthday, today was one of the best birthdays I've had. I feel so blessed! As we ate, we sat and chatted about anything and everything, from life in general to what to call the things we wrapped the duck in (Ingrid said 'wraps' or 'pancakes'; I said 'crepes') to the question of the origins of "bling bling的," an actual thing in Chinese used to describe shiny/sparkly jewelry (like my super cute new earrings--thank you guys!). A fabulous conversation with fabulous people while eating fabulous food.
One unexpected perk of being a teacher at two schools: your birthday starts way early! Here are the photos I snagged:
We lit the candles and they sang for me (including Ingrid's raucous Dutch addendum to the song, which I rather loved), and I made a wish. And then they revealed that not only had they bought me a gorgeous cake, they had cancelled the school lunch and brought in teas for everyone, and duck and crepes from a famous local shop. And they had bought me a present!
For not actually being my birthday, today was one of the best birthdays I've had. I feel so blessed! As we ate, we sat and chatted about anything and everything, from life in general to what to call the things we wrapped the duck in (Ingrid said 'wraps' or 'pancakes'; I said 'crepes') to the question of the origins of "bling bling的," an actual thing in Chinese used to describe shiny/sparkly jewelry (like my super cute new earrings--thank you guys!). A fabulous conversation with fabulous people while eating fabulous food.
One unexpected perk of being a teacher at two schools: your birthday starts way early! Here are the photos I snagged:
 |
| Cake, food, AND tea! Love my co-workers! |
 |
| Had to rearrange my desk to fit my birthday cards. My students are the BEST! |
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Love.
Today was my short day, as all Tuesdays are, and so most of my day was spent at home either being productive or procrastinating about being productive. (Or at Starbucks realizing I'd forgotten most of the essential things I needed to be productive.) But that's not to say that I didn't have time first to be reminded of how much I love my job!
We taught professions to the 6th graders today, including an activity strongly resembling the one we used last semester to teach professions to the 5th graders, but with stricter injunctions against "careers" like killer, thief, and, a popular one today, terrorist. (Oh dear.)
Nonetheless, I loved today because I love hearing what my students want to be--or what they want to joke about being, as the case may be. One of my top-level students, Jay, first raised his hand to say he wanted to be a "watermelon monster." We told him that wasn't a job and moved on. He raised his hand a second time and said he wanted to be a "shemale." We, again, told him that wasn't a job, and I made a mental note that his buqiban teacher must have an interesting sense of humor. (Eventually he said he wanted to be a wrestler.)
It's just so wonderful to hear kids claiming their dreams, at a time when all their dreams are still cool and not boring or faded. When you still have 3 basketball players in a room, and several astronauts and dancers and entertainers and fire fighters, but also get the more thought out but still hard-to-get professions, like fashion designers and architects and computer programmers and paleontologists (yes, one girl claimed it! Another wanted to be an archeologist; writing those words on the board was nerve-wracking for my spelling abilities ,though I got them right). One boy wanted to build the dais (litters? stretchers?) they put deities on for parades (I told him carpenter?); another boy wanted to be a wig designer. I just love the creativity they still have in elementary school!
Then classes were over. As I walked towards the elevators, two of my favorite 5th grade girls, Sammi and Judy, (they always bring me my lunch and chat with me; they recently had me fill out a card for their friendship address book :) ) popped out from behind a pillar and came towards me--bearing gifts! See, my birthday is coming up--another adorable student had given me a very cute pink birthday card earlier--and, thanks to the little cards Judy and Sammi had me fill out, they knew that, and they got me presents. So precious! And the gifts themselves were adorable, too! It's not even my birthday yet and I'm feeling so loved.
We taught professions to the 6th graders today, including an activity strongly resembling the one we used last semester to teach professions to the 5th graders, but with stricter injunctions against "careers" like killer, thief, and, a popular one today, terrorist. (Oh dear.)
Nonetheless, I loved today because I love hearing what my students want to be--or what they want to joke about being, as the case may be. One of my top-level students, Jay, first raised his hand to say he wanted to be a "watermelon monster." We told him that wasn't a job and moved on. He raised his hand a second time and said he wanted to be a "shemale." We, again, told him that wasn't a job, and I made a mental note that his buqiban teacher must have an interesting sense of humor. (Eventually he said he wanted to be a wrestler.)
It's just so wonderful to hear kids claiming their dreams, at a time when all their dreams are still cool and not boring or faded. When you still have 3 basketball players in a room, and several astronauts and dancers and entertainers and fire fighters, but also get the more thought out but still hard-to-get professions, like fashion designers and architects and computer programmers and paleontologists (yes, one girl claimed it! Another wanted to be an archeologist; writing those words on the board was nerve-wracking for my spelling abilities ,though I got them right). One boy wanted to build the dais (litters? stretchers?) they put deities on for parades (I told him carpenter?); another boy wanted to be a wig designer. I just love the creativity they still have in elementary school!
Then classes were over. As I walked towards the elevators, two of my favorite 5th grade girls, Sammi and Judy, (they always bring me my lunch and chat with me; they recently had me fill out a card for their friendship address book :) ) popped out from behind a pillar and came towards me--bearing gifts! See, my birthday is coming up--another adorable student had given me a very cute pink birthday card earlier--and, thanks to the little cards Judy and Sammi had me fill out, they knew that, and they got me presents. So precious! And the gifts themselves were adorable, too! It's not even my birthday yet and I'm feeling so loved.
 |
| Judy's gift! A crystal bear--and about 5X more wrapping paper than was truly necessary. :) |
 |
| (part of) Sammi's gift: a hippo and hear mug and a pop-up birthday card with a poodle. <3 |
 |
| Everything,including Sarah's card (far left)! Note the cookies in the middle: the rest of Sammi's gift. Girl knows me: cookies and a coffee mug! |
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Peanut butter and stinky tofu
This was originally going to be a long, complex, drawn-out post on culinary and cultural sensibilities. Then my dear dear friend from home, Flavia, got on Skype and an absolutely wonderful, and necessary, conversation ensued. It is now midnight. Hence, this post just got preemptively abbreviated.
Peanut butter. Quick, name the single most common allergy for kids in the United States. Peanut butter, right? OK, so that may actually be the second most common, after milk, but still! I worked as a nanny for four years and as a childcare provider in various other forms for pretty much as long as I can remember (I started helping at church when I was just 10 myself), and one of the biggest taboos in every childcare setting in America is never bring anything having to do with peanuts anywhere with kids, ever (unless they're your own and you just want a PPJ in the privacy of your own home, but even then you should be careful).
Which is why today, I had a minor freakout when I realized that the jam I was bringing for our blind taste test (this week's vocabulary: jam, pepper, salt, butter, sugar, ketchup) had been contaminated by peanut butter. (Because, really, why dirty two knives?)
I brought it to school anyway, though, after carefully getting the jam from the bottom of the jar without disturbing the potentially contaminated bits on top (never an easy feat), and asked Maggie that we ask the kids to make sure no one was allergic before doing anything with the jam. Her reaction: huh?
Apparently, peanut allergies aren't really a thing here. In fact, we asked all of our five 5th grade classes today, and had not a single peanut allergy in the bunch. We had a few milk allergies (proving the point in the link above, I suppose), and so duly avoided the butter for them, but no one was allergic to peanuts! It was truly dumfounding.
Stinky tofu. This is a much more minor point; something that honestly could have fit in a Facebook status. It would have said "that moment when you're driving down the street and smell something that reminds you of delicious cheddar cheese. And then realize it's stinky tofu." I'm holding out some hope that there actually is a place on Zhongshan selling cheesy goodness, but it's unlikely. More probably, my sense of smell is officially shot to pieces by Taiwanese sensibilities.
Peanut butter. Quick, name the single most common allergy for kids in the United States. Peanut butter, right? OK, so that may actually be the second most common, after milk, but still! I worked as a nanny for four years and as a childcare provider in various other forms for pretty much as long as I can remember (I started helping at church when I was just 10 myself), and one of the biggest taboos in every childcare setting in America is never bring anything having to do with peanuts anywhere with kids, ever (unless they're your own and you just want a PPJ in the privacy of your own home, but even then you should be careful).
Which is why today, I had a minor freakout when I realized that the jam I was bringing for our blind taste test (this week's vocabulary: jam, pepper, salt, butter, sugar, ketchup) had been contaminated by peanut butter. (Because, really, why dirty two knives?)
I brought it to school anyway, though, after carefully getting the jam from the bottom of the jar without disturbing the potentially contaminated bits on top (never an easy feat), and asked Maggie that we ask the kids to make sure no one was allergic before doing anything with the jam. Her reaction: huh?
Apparently, peanut allergies aren't really a thing here. In fact, we asked all of our five 5th grade classes today, and had not a single peanut allergy in the bunch. We had a few milk allergies (proving the point in the link above, I suppose), and so duly avoided the butter for them, but no one was allergic to peanuts! It was truly dumfounding.
Stinky tofu. This is a much more minor point; something that honestly could have fit in a Facebook status. It would have said "that moment when you're driving down the street and smell something that reminds you of delicious cheddar cheese. And then realize it's stinky tofu." I'm holding out some hope that there actually is a place on Zhongshan selling cheesy goodness, but it's unlikely. More probably, my sense of smell is officially shot to pieces by Taiwanese sensibilities.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Coping Mechanisms
While I was talking to my mom the other day (with some of my few precious Skype-to-cell minutes I got as part of a hostel deal a while back), she brought up the concept that, as my time here begins to wind down, my brain has begun making subtle adjustments to help me emotionally prepare for the removal. I agree; that's definitely happening. But it's not just happening on a subconscious level; I have never in my life kept such careful track of time, or monitored my own thoughts and emotions on a subject so continuously.
If you look back over my blog, it's all there: the excitement in coming to a new country, the shock and joy of actually being here, the settling in to day-to-day life, and then, it begins: a nervous, self-conscious tic which ever prompts me to ask--am I ready? Would I be happy or sad if I went home tomorrow? What about next week? Next month? My answers were tempered, always, by the reality of how much time I had.
Are we five months in? Then yes, I miss home, but only aspects of it. Are we halfway? Then I begin missing people here in Taiwan preemptively, not yet ready to think about life Stateside. Are we just a few months away? Then I must go out of my way to mention that I will miss Taiwan--in the midst of a weeks-long ode to my homeland. If I'm honest, all of my posts are like this last one: I write what is true, but also what must be true in order to make life livable for however much time I have left here.
And now that it actually is next month--or, almost; a month and a half till school is out and two before I actually go home--I'm beginning to feel like I will be ready to be done soon. I've already mentioned the things I miss about home, and, honestly, lately I've noticed myself getting annoyed again at cultural things I've long-ago accepted as normal. My road rage is at an all-time high, for instance, even as I'm at my most adept at handling traffic situations. My psyche is preparing me, preparing me to be happy to be back in America; ready to displace my happy memories with things I won't miss, things like the traffic and the lack of Western food and the prohibitive humidity.
I know there will be reverse culture shock to deal with, no matter how much I prepare myself, consciously and subconsciously, for the change. Today Grace and I went to Smokey Joe's (perhaps the only Tex-Mex place in Kaohsiung) for a belated Cinco de Mayo lunch, and I found myself gasping at the 300-600NT (~$10-$20US) entrees, and positively fuming when they added a 10% gratuity to our bill without notice. Come July, some things about America will be hard to accept no matter what I do.
But that won't stop me from trying; continuing to pull out whatever tactics I can to smooth the transition. It will be hard to leave Taiwan; hard to return to America. But at least my brain knows this now, and is working hard on its coping mechanisms.
If you look back over my blog, it's all there: the excitement in coming to a new country, the shock and joy of actually being here, the settling in to day-to-day life, and then, it begins: a nervous, self-conscious tic which ever prompts me to ask--am I ready? Would I be happy or sad if I went home tomorrow? What about next week? Next month? My answers were tempered, always, by the reality of how much time I had.
Are we five months in? Then yes, I miss home, but only aspects of it. Are we halfway? Then I begin missing people here in Taiwan preemptively, not yet ready to think about life Stateside. Are we just a few months away? Then I must go out of my way to mention that I will miss Taiwan--in the midst of a weeks-long ode to my homeland. If I'm honest, all of my posts are like this last one: I write what is true, but also what must be true in order to make life livable for however much time I have left here.
And now that it actually is next month--or, almost; a month and a half till school is out and two before I actually go home--I'm beginning to feel like I will be ready to be done soon. I've already mentioned the things I miss about home, and, honestly, lately I've noticed myself getting annoyed again at cultural things I've long-ago accepted as normal. My road rage is at an all-time high, for instance, even as I'm at my most adept at handling traffic situations. My psyche is preparing me, preparing me to be happy to be back in America; ready to displace my happy memories with things I won't miss, things like the traffic and the lack of Western food and the prohibitive humidity.
I know there will be reverse culture shock to deal with, no matter how much I prepare myself, consciously and subconsciously, for the change. Today Grace and I went to Smokey Joe's (perhaps the only Tex-Mex place in Kaohsiung) for a belated Cinco de Mayo lunch, and I found myself gasping at the 300-600NT (~$10-$20US) entrees, and positively fuming when they added a 10% gratuity to our bill without notice. Come July, some things about America will be hard to accept no matter what I do.
But that won't stop me from trying; continuing to pull out whatever tactics I can to smooth the transition. It will be hard to leave Taiwan; hard to return to America. But at least my brain knows this now, and is working hard on its coping mechanisms.
(Host) Mother's Day
母親天快樂! That's a sentence that, prior to this evening, I was not capable of uttering. But now, having been taught it and practiced it many times before a group of 20 or so people, I am well able of saying "Happy Mother's Day!" in Chinese.
Tonight, James, Margaret and Emily picked me up to go to an early celebration of Mother's Day. I grabbed some flowers for Margaret (it is Mother's Day, after all!) and figured I was set for an evening with my wonderful host family.
And I was. What I hadn't realized, though, was that tonight would be my whole host family--that is, James' mom, brothers, sisters, brothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, nieces, and nephews. (Later explanation revealed that only perhaps 3 or 4 people from the extended family were missing.) We met at a Japanese restaurant, where we were treated to a multi-course, multi-toast meal the likes of which I'd only seen here before at a wedding.
Dinner conversation was peppered with various uncles and aunts trying to make their kids talk to me in English--it was cool to hear "我的英文不好" (My English is bad) coming from so many mouths, having uttered the reverse, "我的中文不好," so many times myself--and a rather fun mixture of English, Chinese, and Hakka coming from all sides.
Filled to bursting, both with food and with new-learned vocabulary, we then relocated to James', Margaret's and Emily's home, where we drank tea, ate corn, and continued our trilingual conversation.
All in all, quite a fun night, though infinitely different from the one I had thought was coming. Being with James' family reminded me of being with my Mom's side of the family, always a fun occasion, and as always I loved being able to simply slide into belonging, not just to my immediate host family, but to my extended one, too. So, to all my mothers, Happy (Host) Mother's Day!
Tonight, James, Margaret and Emily picked me up to go to an early celebration of Mother's Day. I grabbed some flowers for Margaret (it is Mother's Day, after all!) and figured I was set for an evening with my wonderful host family.
And I was. What I hadn't realized, though, was that tonight would be my whole host family--that is, James' mom, brothers, sisters, brothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, nieces, and nephews. (Later explanation revealed that only perhaps 3 or 4 people from the extended family were missing.) We met at a Japanese restaurant, where we were treated to a multi-course, multi-toast meal the likes of which I'd only seen here before at a wedding.
 |
| What the table looked like BEFORE it disappeared beneath a mountain of food |
 |
| Movies playing on the wall <3 |
 |
| It was a pretty epic restaurant, really... |
 |
| Eating 米苔目 for the first time: delicious! (or 可口) |
 |
| The Japanese place's sister restaurant provided the towelettes: yay for Seattle! |
Filled to bursting, both with food and with new-learned vocabulary, we then relocated to James', Margaret's and Emily's home, where we drank tea, ate corn, and continued our trilingual conversation.
All in all, quite a fun night, though infinitely different from the one I had thought was coming. Being with James' family reminded me of being with my Mom's side of the family, always a fun occasion, and as always I loved being able to simply slide into belonging, not just to my immediate host family, but to my extended one, too. So, to all my mothers, Happy (Host) Mother's Day!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)