10. My students, my co-teachers, my colleagues, my friends...
This one is obviously actually #1, but it's far too serious to put as my ending note. So, this is actually the thing I will miss the absolute most about Taiwan...but I don't have the heart to put it there. I love my students; I love my co-teachers; I love my colleagues; I love my friends here, and I don't want to think about the fact that I'm leaving then soon. *ahem* Movingon.
9. Standing out in every crowd
It gets annoying at times, but it's still kind of cool to be The Foreigner, worthy of stares and smiles and awe. And I'm not gonna lie, it's nice getting "你很漂亮啊" all the time from strangers. I won't quite know how to deal with blending in again...
8. The ability to pop up to Taipei or Taitung on a whim, or to fly to Thailand in just 6 hours or so
I've mentioned this before, but I have absolutely LOVED the ability to travel that this year has given me, coupled with an absolutely fantastic array of locations at my feet.
7. Living amongst the nicest people on the planet
I genuinely believe this to be true. I have NEVER met more kindhearted people than the Taiwanese locals, especially Kaohsiung locals, are. It's partly Southern hospitality (the same the world over), but mostly just an ingrained wonderful friendliness all over the island of Taiwan. They are simply wonderful.
6. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon off work
This was just a lovely quirk of my schedule all year: no class after noon three days a week. Never gonna get THAT again!
5. Playing the foreigner card
Not being able to communicate definitely has its upside. This is it: the foreigner card. "I don't understand!" Annnnnd you can now do anything you want.
4. Drinking ALL THE TEA
I didn't even drink tea before I came to Taiwan. But I will miss all the fabulous varieties of tea I've grown to love this year, and will no doubt try to replicate them on my own: grapefruit green tea, Oolong milk tea, Earl Grey milk tea (at least this one I can still get at home), yogurt green tea, mango green tea, the list goes on...and I will always remember being the sole one still ordering it iced when the temperature dropped to a "frigid" 60F or so.
3. Beautiful sunshiney days on my scooter
When the sun is out, my scooter is perfect. Wind in my hair, zipping along, getting tanned (avoiding the slowpokes...); in essence, perfection.
2. Fresh fruit, everywhere, all the time
Taiwan's fruit is the best thing ever. EVER. And it's cheap. I will forever miss being able to go down to the fruit stand on a whim and buy pineapples, mangoes, and watermelon and for less than 3USD.
1. Driving like a maniac with no repercussions
'Nuff said. Here's hoping I readjust before I get buried in tickets at home...
Showing posts with label Taiwanese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Taiwanese. Show all posts
Friday, June 29, 2012
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.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Inside-Outside-In
Culture shock. I haven't written about it in a very, very long time--since January, unless you count my recent musings on perspective shift, which I don't. The reason why I've stopped is pretty obvious: I have ceased to be shocked by the culture.
Sure, I still notice little quirks like misspelled shirts and "Indian"-Spanish-Chinese singers at Taiwanese holiday celebrations. But I'm pretty sure I'd notice those no matter where I was. The huge in-your-face cultural differences are now pretty much invisible to me, something I had somewhat forgotten and have recently been reminded of, since Ingrid came to join our little Hanmin teaching family and I got to see her reactions to them.
In fact, I now believe I've been in Taiwanese culture enough to somewhat internalize it. How did I come to this conclusion? Well, apart from all the not-exactly-ironic peace sign posing I've been doing for months...
Today I realized (thanks to a Facebook post by one of my ETA colleagues in Yilan, Lauren) that I have also been incorporating the culture into my daily life on a more subtle level. Here's the link that prompted this realization.
Yes, it's a meme of Asians taking pictures of their food. It's pretty accurate; whenever I actually pay attention at restaurants (Rachel's especially good at noticing this), I see people everywhere with their cameras out and pointed alternately at themselves and at their food. Rachel told me she and Brittany saw one person in Taipei taking a picture of herself with...her fork. Pictures of food, and food-related objects and poses, are all over here.
And let's see...what have I been writing about lately? Constantly; almost obsessively, in fact? ALWAYS with pictures? Here I was thinking it was about my American culture, but as it turns out, it may just be a result of my sneaking internalization of the local culture. To say "hello" in Taiwanese, after all, you literally say "have you eaten"! Food is absolutely central to Taiwanese culture. So, really, why does this realization surprise me?
Maybe because it's such a perfect cohesion of American and Taiwanese cultures; I never saw it coming. I may do a whole series on how much I miss sandwiches, but the fact is I've taken food, something I never paid all that much attention to in the States, and elevated it to one of my most common subjects.
Fulbright talks ad nauseum about our role as cultural ambassadors and as "a bridge between cultures." And, well, I suppose you can't get much more bridge-like than by complexly intertwining American and Taiwanese cultures; combining external and internal elements and placing them, subconsciously, in your day-to-day life. Is it outside? Is it in? The answer is like that of Schroedinger's cat: yes.
Sure, I still notice little quirks like misspelled shirts and "Indian"-Spanish-Chinese singers at Taiwanese holiday celebrations. But I'm pretty sure I'd notice those no matter where I was. The huge in-your-face cultural differences are now pretty much invisible to me, something I had somewhat forgotten and have recently been reminded of, since Ingrid came to join our little Hanmin teaching family and I got to see her reactions to them.
In fact, I now believe I've been in Taiwanese culture enough to somewhat internalize it. How did I come to this conclusion? Well, apart from all the not-exactly-ironic peace sign posing I've been doing for months...
 |
| January... |
 |
| March... |
Yes, it's a meme of Asians taking pictures of their food. It's pretty accurate; whenever I actually pay attention at restaurants (Rachel's especially good at noticing this), I see people everywhere with their cameras out and pointed alternately at themselves and at their food. Rachel told me she and Brittany saw one person in Taipei taking a picture of herself with...her fork. Pictures of food, and food-related objects and poses, are all over here.
And let's see...what have I been writing about lately? Constantly; almost obsessively, in fact? ALWAYS with pictures? Here I was thinking it was about my American culture, but as it turns out, it may just be a result of my sneaking internalization of the local culture. To say "hello" in Taiwanese, after all, you literally say "have you eaten"! Food is absolutely central to Taiwanese culture. So, really, why does this realization surprise me?
Maybe because it's such a perfect cohesion of American and Taiwanese cultures; I never saw it coming. I may do a whole series on how much I miss sandwiches, but the fact is I've taken food, something I never paid all that much attention to in the States, and elevated it to one of my most common subjects.
Fulbright talks ad nauseum about our role as cultural ambassadors and as "a bridge between cultures." And, well, I suppose you can't get much more bridge-like than by complexly intertwining American and Taiwanese cultures; combining external and internal elements and placing them, subconsciously, in your day-to-day life. Is it outside? Is it in? The answer is like that of Schroedinger's cat: yes.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Late nights, early mornings
My mom is convinced that I'm a secret morning person, but nothing could be further from the truth. (In case you need convincing, check the time stamp on this blog post--I'm beginning it just after 2:30am.)
To some extent, this has worked to my advantage here, 16 hours ahead of the vast majority of my friends and family. In a course of cyclical reasoning, my family and the time difference are actually why I'm up right now: I've been Skyping with my mom, dad, and younger brother for a few hours, watching my mom's always-alert morning self in contrast with my brother's squinting just-woke-up face and my dad's slow ascent from awake to functioning, over the course of a cup of coffee. (Yep, that's where I got it from.)
But by all accounts, I shouldn't be up right now, since I was up late last night talking to family, too, but was still up early (for me) this morning, ready for a trip to Tainan with my wonderful host family and Rachel. The getting-ready process definitely involved chugging a bottled latte in 7-11 right as my host family pulled up, since I'm fresh out of coffee beans and I recently discovered my non-caffeinated propensity towards headaches.
We had a fabulous day, visiting such landmarks as the Eternal Golden Fort, Anping Old Fort, Anping Tree House (probably my favorite place EVER), Chihkan Tower, and the Confucius Temple. Unfortunately, we were dogged by what seemed to be a whole-city celebration of some Daoist deity's birthday, complete with a multi-pronged parade of gongs, drums, horns, incense and firecrackers--SO MANY FIRECRACKERS--but aside from that, the locations were gorgeous and the weather could not have been better. Rachel described it well by saying it reminded her of the first day after the snow melts in New Hampshire. I, of course, have never experienced that particular day, but it reminded me of the first day in May that reminds you that eventually summer will come. Glorious.
Of course, with any Taiwanese city, the main event is the food, and Tainan didn't disappoint. Their famous shrimp rolls, which I was a bit nervous to try, since I tend to steer clear of seafood, were absolutely DELICIOUS, tasting mostly of onion. So was the shaved ice we had later (though it tasted of strawberry and sweetened condensed milk, thankfully). And the coffin-cover bread with which we finished out the day.
Probably the highlight of my day was the Anping Tree House, which is actually an old warehouse from the early days of European-Asian trade which has been abandoned to the banyan trees, which in turn eagerly incorporated themselves into the floors, walls, windows and even roofs of the giant building. The even coils of banyan root run everywhere over the old brickwork, giving the impression that you've stumbled into ruins much older than a few hundred years, and perhaps at the center of an Indiana Jones film.
Also at Anping Tree House (and everywhere else), Rachel and I re-encountered the blatant stares and paparazzi-like photo-stalking of us which we had seen in mainland China in our various excursions there. It's interesting, really: for the most part, Taiwanese people are largely unphased by our clearly-Western presence (though not enough to stop the steady flow of 'hello's which sound oddly like the speaker is half cat-calling, half proudly practicing his one English word that we got multiple times today), but mainland Chinese tourists are still awestruck and fascinated by us. Go sight-seeing in Taiwan, and you feel like you're back in mainland China--and you realize how very normal your life in Kaohsiung is.
But here I encounter once again my as-yet-unnamed situation in which I have no energy left to write about my day because I simply had too much fun living it. And, while I have no school tomorrow, thanks to Sports Day yesterday, my morning should still be at least existent, if not early. And this is a very late night.
To some extent, this has worked to my advantage here, 16 hours ahead of the vast majority of my friends and family. In a course of cyclical reasoning, my family and the time difference are actually why I'm up right now: I've been Skyping with my mom, dad, and younger brother for a few hours, watching my mom's always-alert morning self in contrast with my brother's squinting just-woke-up face and my dad's slow ascent from awake to functioning, over the course of a cup of coffee. (Yep, that's where I got it from.)
But by all accounts, I shouldn't be up right now, since I was up late last night talking to family, too, but was still up early (for me) this morning, ready for a trip to Tainan with my wonderful host family and Rachel. The getting-ready process definitely involved chugging a bottled latte in 7-11 right as my host family pulled up, since I'm fresh out of coffee beans and I recently discovered my non-caffeinated propensity towards headaches.
We had a fabulous day, visiting such landmarks as the Eternal Golden Fort, Anping Old Fort, Anping Tree House (probably my favorite place EVER), Chihkan Tower, and the Confucius Temple. Unfortunately, we were dogged by what seemed to be a whole-city celebration of some Daoist deity's birthday, complete with a multi-pronged parade of gongs, drums, horns, incense and firecrackers--SO MANY FIRECRACKERS--but aside from that, the locations were gorgeous and the weather could not have been better. Rachel described it well by saying it reminded her of the first day after the snow melts in New Hampshire. I, of course, have never experienced that particular day, but it reminded me of the first day in May that reminds you that eventually summer will come. Glorious.
Of course, with any Taiwanese city, the main event is the food, and Tainan didn't disappoint. Their famous shrimp rolls, which I was a bit nervous to try, since I tend to steer clear of seafood, were absolutely DELICIOUS, tasting mostly of onion. So was the shaved ice we had later (though it tasted of strawberry and sweetened condensed milk, thankfully). And the coffin-cover bread with which we finished out the day.
Probably the highlight of my day was the Anping Tree House, which is actually an old warehouse from the early days of European-Asian trade which has been abandoned to the banyan trees, which in turn eagerly incorporated themselves into the floors, walls, windows and even roofs of the giant building. The even coils of banyan root run everywhere over the old brickwork, giving the impression that you've stumbled into ruins much older than a few hundred years, and perhaps at the center of an Indiana Jones film.
Also at Anping Tree House (and everywhere else), Rachel and I re-encountered the blatant stares and paparazzi-like photo-stalking of us which we had seen in mainland China in our various excursions there. It's interesting, really: for the most part, Taiwanese people are largely unphased by our clearly-Western presence (though not enough to stop the steady flow of 'hello's which sound oddly like the speaker is half cat-calling, half proudly practicing his one English word that we got multiple times today), but mainland Chinese tourists are still awestruck and fascinated by us. Go sight-seeing in Taiwan, and you feel like you're back in mainland China--and you realize how very normal your life in Kaohsiung is.
But here I encounter once again my as-yet-unnamed situation in which I have no energy left to write about my day because I simply had too much fun living it. And, while I have no school tomorrow, thanks to Sports Day yesterday, my morning should still be at least existent, if not early. And this is a very late night.
Monday, November 7, 2011
When things go right
Sometimes, life gives you a second shot at things, and they go just swimmingly. Today was one of those days, to my immeasurable relief.
Today marked Day 2 of singing the national anthem at the Taiwanese All-Star Series! As I mentioned yesterday, the pressure was kind of on since we sucked before; beyond that, today marked the last of the 5 games in the series. In other words, today was our last chance to redeem ourselves as not-too-horrible singers who just had an off day before.
Fortunately, I wasn't the only person who had come to this conclusion, and those with the power to do so took steps to fix the problems we had yesterday. In other words, we actually used our lined-up time to practice, novel thought, and we practiced with a leader, one of the people with an earpiece. Furthermore, said leader actually turned to face us so that we could follow his lips, rather than the echoes of his voices reaching us far too late to do any good whatsoever.
And the results of all this logical-and-not-too-difficult thinking were encouraging: when it came to the actual singing, our voices were neatly corralled into a single strain of song, and that song was almost perfectly aligned with the music everyone else heard. It was absurd and more than a little difficult to follow someone's lips when you can also hear his voice several seconds behind, singing with what sounds like the part of the song you should be on, but it worked!
Our waiting period was infinitely shorter and less eventful, but we did have a false alarm and several quasi-exciting moments. Walking back from the bathroom, I passed a tall, fit black man in a Yankees jersey; turning around I spied the number 24 on his jersey. I smiled at him and ran back to the press room where we were waiting then.
"You guys, who is number 24 for the Yankees?" (Clearly, my MLB knowledge is in desperate need of an update.)
They turned to look at me, and Emily (one of the biggest Yankees fans I've ever met) was quick to the answer: "Robinson Cano."
"Is he a big black guy?" (Really, how did I get into this event?)
"YES!" Emily disappears into the hallway, closely followed by Brittany, Rachel and I--to discover that is was just a Yankee manager who happened to be wearing Cano's jersey number. Oh well.
In the tunnel going in, we once again got to see Screech (Nationals' mascot) and his sidekick, and once again got to see Kaohsiung's mayor--but none of the pictures I took of these instances are even remotely good enough to post on here, thanks to my I'll-just-hold-the-camera-and-click-it-without-looking-when-they-come-past strategy. On the plus side, I got to high-5 all of those people! On the negative, no viable proof of this exists; just half of them walking into my photo frame.
What I did get this time, though, was pictures of the field from as we were leaving!
Then, while walking back to get our stuff, we were halted in the hallway so that the entire Taiwanese team could pass in front of us. So, there's that--at the front of the line, I got to see pretty much everyone just a few feet away.
We soon realized that the tickets they'd given us were for the outfield seats which, while we could live with the location, did not actually exist. No reserved seating in the cheap seats + popular game + trying to find seats late + group of 6 people = nowhere whatsoever to sit. So we improvised and bluffed our way back into the lower level of the stadium, then climbed up till we found a row of empty seats above the first baseline where we could sit.
Then, of course, came the game, which was pretty great--Robinson Cano hit a home run, and the MLB team ended up winning 6-4, cementing their series-long winning streak. We had some yummy food (ENTIRELY different from US baseball food; aside from my Coke, I had fried chicken and fries eaten out of paper bags using a wooden skewer and an iced tea--and those were way on the tame side of the food stand offerings in the foyer), bought some merchandise (official T-shirts, and a Mariners hat for me, since I somehow left Seattle without buying one...), and enjoyed the game.
Then, as the last inning came to a close, came the real excitement.
The KAS adult leaders had told us to meet them down on the field level after the game for a chance to meet the players; Red Sox player Josh Reddick's dad had spent about an hour chatting with them before the game, and had promised to see what he could do about getting us in to meet people.
Well, that never happened. BUT, as we stood along the hallway across from the press conference room (and once again, incidentally, were reminded of how annoying high schoolers can be in important situations), along came Robinson Cano for his press conference! Hearts stopped all along our line, and he waved to Emily before going into the room and leaving us to anxiously await his return while griping about the photographers and others who were blocking our view through the windows.
Eventually he emerged, along with the World Series-winning coach of the San Francisco Giants (who unfortunately eluded our cameras in our obsession with the major league superstar mere feet away), and announced that he would sign autographs for five minutes. His managers and security personnel told us, anyway, and asked us to form a line.
Let's see. Take over-excitable high schoolers in Taiwan, add a celebrity and the chance to meet said celebrity, and then ask them to form a single file line. Yeah, that turned out exactly as well as you would expect it to.
Into the press, though, Mr. Cano's dad, Jose Cano (who used to play pro baseball in Taiwan), came walking and selecting people to come to the front of the line. He was looking for kids initially, then grabbed Emily: "come," then me: "stay," then Rachel: "come," then one of the high schoolers standing nearby: "definitely come." And I regretted that I had left my Mariners hat upon my head.
Eventually I did make it to the front of the line, though, and he neatly signed my baseball and handed it back to the security guard to his right, who then passed it back to me. I stared down at my hand for a second, then realized I was still less than five feet from him and whipped out my camera.
We turned to leave, abandoning the possibility of KAS connections eventually coming through because, really, who could top Cano?
And that's when I discovered JUST how amazing our group's interaction with Cano had been.
Emily was wearing a hat. Emily had not been wearing a hat when she entered the stadium. Nor had she purchased one from the hawkers upstairs. No, the hat she was wearing was Robinson Cano's hat.
As we left, she explained: after she had gotten her shirt signed (which itself happened after he went to sign the Yankees jersey she was wearing and stopped when he realized that it was Jeter's, not his), she turned to go, and felt something alighting on her head. She turned around and he nodded to her, hatless. There were tears in her eyes as we left, and we spent a good portion of the ride home asking her to tell us more details, and passing it around before she returned it, probably never to leave again, to her head.
Plenty of people can claim to have Cano's autograph. But how many can claim to have the hat he used in the final game of the Taiwan All-Star Series, in which he hit a home run? That would be one: Emily.
We returned home with our prizes, still beyond jazzed at our wonderful day.
"Once in a lifetime" can't quite contain the events of today, especially when held in conjunction with the events of yesterday. To be honest, it can't contain any of the events of this year for me. They just spill over, one into the next, and create a world which I really can't believe I'm living in. I am truly blessed; every day I live here in Taiwan reminds of this truth. Especially days when things just go right.
Today marked Day 2 of singing the national anthem at the Taiwanese All-Star Series! As I mentioned yesterday, the pressure was kind of on since we sucked before; beyond that, today marked the last of the 5 games in the series. In other words, today was our last chance to redeem ourselves as not-too-horrible singers who just had an off day before.
Fortunately, I wasn't the only person who had come to this conclusion, and those with the power to do so took steps to fix the problems we had yesterday. In other words, we actually used our lined-up time to practice, novel thought, and we practiced with a leader, one of the people with an earpiece. Furthermore, said leader actually turned to face us so that we could follow his lips, rather than the echoes of his voices reaching us far too late to do any good whatsoever.
And the results of all this logical-and-not-too-difficult thinking were encouraging: when it came to the actual singing, our voices were neatly corralled into a single strain of song, and that song was almost perfectly aligned with the music everyone else heard. It was absurd and more than a little difficult to follow someone's lips when you can also hear his voice several seconds behind, singing with what sounds like the part of the song you should be on, but it worked!
Our waiting period was infinitely shorter and less eventful, but we did have a false alarm and several quasi-exciting moments. Walking back from the bathroom, I passed a tall, fit black man in a Yankees jersey; turning around I spied the number 24 on his jersey. I smiled at him and ran back to the press room where we were waiting then.
"You guys, who is number 24 for the Yankees?" (Clearly, my MLB knowledge is in desperate need of an update.)
They turned to look at me, and Emily (one of the biggest Yankees fans I've ever met) was quick to the answer: "Robinson Cano."
"Is he a big black guy?" (Really, how did I get into this event?)
"YES!" Emily disappears into the hallway, closely followed by Brittany, Rachel and I--to discover that is was just a Yankee manager who happened to be wearing Cano's jersey number. Oh well.
In the tunnel going in, we once again got to see Screech (Nationals' mascot) and his sidekick, and once again got to see Kaohsiung's mayor--but none of the pictures I took of these instances are even remotely good enough to post on here, thanks to my I'll-just-hold-the-camera-and-click-it-without-looking-when-they-come-past strategy. On the plus side, I got to high-5 all of those people! On the negative, no viable proof of this exists; just half of them walking into my photo frame.
What I did get this time, though, was pictures of the field from as we were leaving!
Then, while walking back to get our stuff, we were halted in the hallway so that the entire Taiwanese team could pass in front of us. So, there's that--at the front of the line, I got to see pretty much everyone just a few feet away.
We soon realized that the tickets they'd given us were for the outfield seats which, while we could live with the location, did not actually exist. No reserved seating in the cheap seats + popular game + trying to find seats late + group of 6 people = nowhere whatsoever to sit. So we improvised and bluffed our way back into the lower level of the stadium, then climbed up till we found a row of empty seats above the first baseline where we could sit.
Then, of course, came the game, which was pretty great--Robinson Cano hit a home run, and the MLB team ended up winning 6-4, cementing their series-long winning streak. We had some yummy food (ENTIRELY different from US baseball food; aside from my Coke, I had fried chicken and fries eaten out of paper bags using a wooden skewer and an iced tea--and those were way on the tame side of the food stand offerings in the foyer), bought some merchandise (official T-shirts, and a Mariners hat for me, since I somehow left Seattle without buying one...), and enjoyed the game.
Then, as the last inning came to a close, came the real excitement.
The KAS adult leaders had told us to meet them down on the field level after the game for a chance to meet the players; Red Sox player Josh Reddick's dad had spent about an hour chatting with them before the game, and had promised to see what he could do about getting us in to meet people.
Well, that never happened. BUT, as we stood along the hallway across from the press conference room (and once again, incidentally, were reminded of how annoying high schoolers can be in important situations), along came Robinson Cano for his press conference! Hearts stopped all along our line, and he waved to Emily before going into the room and leaving us to anxiously await his return while griping about the photographers and others who were blocking our view through the windows.
 |
| This is not zoomed in at all. |
Into the press, though, Mr. Cano's dad, Jose Cano (who used to play pro baseball in Taiwan), came walking and selecting people to come to the front of the line. He was looking for kids initially, then grabbed Emily: "come," then me: "stay," then Rachel: "come," then one of the high schoolers standing nearby: "definitely come." And I regretted that I had left my Mariners hat upon my head.
Eventually I did make it to the front of the line, though, and he neatly signed my baseball and handed it back to the security guard to his right, who then passed it back to me. I stared down at my hand for a second, then realized I was still less than five feet from him and whipped out my camera.
We turned to leave, abandoning the possibility of KAS connections eventually coming through because, really, who could top Cano?
And that's when I discovered JUST how amazing our group's interaction with Cano had been.
As we left, she explained: after she had gotten her shirt signed (which itself happened after he went to sign the Yankees jersey she was wearing and stopped when he realized that it was Jeter's, not his), she turned to go, and felt something alighting on her head. She turned around and he nodded to her, hatless. There were tears in her eyes as we left, and we spent a good portion of the ride home asking her to tell us more details, and passing it around before she returned it, probably never to leave again, to her head.
Plenty of people can claim to have Cano's autograph. But how many can claim to have the hat he used in the final game of the Taiwan All-Star Series, in which he hit a home run? That would be one: Emily.
We returned home with our prizes, still beyond jazzed at our wonderful day.
"Once in a lifetime" can't quite contain the events of today, especially when held in conjunction with the events of yesterday. To be honest, it can't contain any of the events of this year for me. They just spill over, one into the next, and create a world which I really can't believe I'm living in. I am truly blessed; every day I live here in Taiwan reminds of this truth. Especially days when things just go right.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
An MLB sort of day...
It's a Saturday, but I set my alarm for this morning with not the slightest bit of resentment. There were two reasons for this: I didn't actually have to get up too early, and I was getting up so that I could go sing the American national anthem at the Taiwan MLB All-Star game.
Rachel, Brittany and I set out earlier than the others, in the hope of getting to see batting practice. We arrived at the stadium to discover, however, that it was cancelled. We further learned that we were the first of our group to get there, so it took a bit of cajoling to get in at all.
Once we (and by we, I mean Brittany and Rachel--I'm still utterly useless) talked one lady with an official pass into letting us in, she whisked us along the corridors behind the Taiwanese team's dugout, past multiple security guards and a barrier to a waiting area, where the dancers who were going to perform before us were eating lunch.
And there we sat. For a good 45 minutes or so. We chatted, Brittany and Rachel listened to music on their iPods, I played sudoku on my phone. If it hadn't been for the numerous security personnel we passed on our way in, we would have been forging towards the MLB dugouts on the other side, but from what we could tell, they were letting NO one back there other than the players and staff. Shoot.
Eventually, the other Fulbrighters (Samia, Lydia, Emily, and Fonda) showed up, and we learned that the rest of the group had since arrived and were waiting in the press conference room. So we went there, and picked up our Kaohsiung American School shirts, since it had been decided that we should all match, despite the fact that we were NOT actually from KAS. We then got kicked out of the press conference room and headed back for the green room, from which we were promptly excised so that we could line up, a full hour early, in the non-air-conditioned hallway.
And that's when they began: the high school memories. And not the warm, fuzzy memories of fantastic jokes with friends. No, more like "OK guys, be SERIOUS from this point on!" "We have an extra person in row 4--everyone in row 4 raise your hands!" (a few seconds pass in which a few people didn't hear the speaker) "Come on, you guys!" "Put away the cameras and just stand still!" All direct quotes, and I could go on. The point being: I had forgotten how little respect high school students get, and how little they even deserve, in many cases.
I hadn't realized how used to getting treated like an adult I had become, and going backwards was less than pleasant--especially as it involved standing motionless in a crowded, hot hallway for an extended period of time, lest we wander off or somehow forget where we were supposed to stand. (Which, it should be noted, some of the high schoolers did, notwithstanding the fact that we weren't allowed to move.)
But I did manage to get some photos. As I told the nice older gentleman standing next to me who identified himself as a trialing spouse of one of the KAS teachers, and a Texan, I don't go to this school! (As it turned out, that was a necessary distinction to make: he guessed I was a senior in high school.)
Eventually, we moved our lines down the hallway, and for a minute I was excited that we might be venturing into MLB area, but no such luck. No, we were just moving into the entryway near home plate, where we would be singing. We did pass a few Taiwanese players in the hallway, though--number 32 and number 6, if you know your players--but no luck on venturing into American territory. Instead, we still had a good 20 minutes of waiting ahead of us, but now we had to do it in an even more confined space, pressing four lines into the space that previously held two so as to allow people to pass.
On the fun side of things, the people passing us to get onto the field included one MLB player (missed who it was, just registered that he was white and in a baseball uniform), the 90- and 94-year-old Taiwanese ex-pro-baseball players who were going to throw the first pitches of the game, and the Washington Nationals' mascot. So that was cool.
Once we were good and sweaty, we finally filed onto the field for the big moment. We were standing on the 3rd base side of home plate, facing the audience, which looked pretty pitiful behind the plate but which was actually pretty full, considering the outfield seating pictured above and later shots I saw on TV of the rest of the stands.
Oh, and the MLB team was standing right behind us, maybe 15 feet away. Right behind us! Did I mention we were not allowed to turn around? Torturous. But, again, Fonda to the rescue with the pictures!
Then came the singing. IF, that is, you could call it that...
We were set up to fail, really. Though the KAS kids had practiced for a while at school, apparently, we combined forces with them just yesterday, at which point we got a grand total of two run-throughs. Then, because all things must be symmetrical and aesthetically pleasing here, we had to have 40 people; yesterday we had just 28 or so, so KAS scavenged among their students and staff to come up with the remainder. As a result, today we had roughly 12 people who had never practiced the song at all.
Then there were the electronic issues. They gave us two mikes, and were told to follow those who had the mikes, because they also had earpieces to hear where we actually were in the song, rather than listening to the slightly-delayed music radiating down to us from the stadium speakers. There were several problems with this: 1) there were 2 'leaders,' who were not even remotely synched with each other, 2) one of the earpieces wasn't functioning fully, 3) the only way we could follow the mic'd people was by following their mic'd voices, ie those coming over the stadium speakers. As a result, we had roughly 3 groups singing their own unique version at any given point in time. It was disastrous.
I have never understood so clearly why EVERY MUSICIAN EVER ALWAYS has earpieces in at all times, or even why, in smaller settings, a personal amp is not enough to create cohesion. If only we could all have earpieces, we might have been synched, and then things would have been fine--our singing was okay, it was just our inability to sing as a group which spelled our downfall.
Oh well. We'll try again tomorrow, and there's really nowhere to go but up, right?
After the singing, we filed back out, laughed at ourselves, and most of us headed home. But first, of course, a picture.
Well, I've got to go now to set my alarm for tomorrow morning. After all, the second time's the charm, right? And who knows, maybe we'll be more successful then in finagling our way into meeting the MLB players. All problems aside, I still have no complaints whatsoever about getting to sing the national anthem at an MLB game here in Taiwan.
Rachel, Brittany and I set out earlier than the others, in the hope of getting to see batting practice. We arrived at the stadium to discover, however, that it was cancelled. We further learned that we were the first of our group to get there, so it took a bit of cajoling to get in at all.
Once we (and by we, I mean Brittany and Rachel--I'm still utterly useless) talked one lady with an official pass into letting us in, she whisked us along the corridors behind the Taiwanese team's dugout, past multiple security guards and a barrier to a waiting area, where the dancers who were going to perform before us were eating lunch.
 |
| Meanwhile, their costumes were busy being creepy in the corner |
And there we sat. For a good 45 minutes or so. We chatted, Brittany and Rachel listened to music on their iPods, I played sudoku on my phone. If it hadn't been for the numerous security personnel we passed on our way in, we would have been forging towards the MLB dugouts on the other side, but from what we could tell, they were letting NO one back there other than the players and staff. Shoot.
Eventually, the other Fulbrighters (Samia, Lydia, Emily, and Fonda) showed up, and we learned that the rest of the group had since arrived and were waiting in the press conference room. So we went there, and picked up our Kaohsiung American School shirts, since it had been decided that we should all match, despite the fact that we were NOT actually from KAS. We then got kicked out of the press conference room and headed back for the green room, from which we were promptly excised so that we could line up, a full hour early, in the non-air-conditioned hallway.
And that's when they began: the high school memories. And not the warm, fuzzy memories of fantastic jokes with friends. No, more like "OK guys, be SERIOUS from this point on!" "We have an extra person in row 4--everyone in row 4 raise your hands!" (a few seconds pass in which a few people didn't hear the speaker) "Come on, you guys!" "Put away the cameras and just stand still!" All direct quotes, and I could go on. The point being: I had forgotten how little respect high school students get, and how little they even deserve, in many cases.
I hadn't realized how used to getting treated like an adult I had become, and going backwards was less than pleasant--especially as it involved standing motionless in a crowded, hot hallway for an extended period of time, lest we wander off or somehow forget where we were supposed to stand. (Which, it should be noted, some of the high schoolers did, notwithstanding the fact that we weren't allowed to move.)
But I did manage to get some photos. As I told the nice older gentleman standing next to me who identified himself as a trialing spouse of one of the KAS teachers, and a Texan, I don't go to this school! (As it turned out, that was a necessary distinction to make: he guessed I was a senior in high school.)
 |
| So close and yet so far... |
 |
| Standing and waiting and standing and waiting... |
Eventually, we moved our lines down the hallway, and for a minute I was excited that we might be venturing into MLB area, but no such luck. No, we were just moving into the entryway near home plate, where we would be singing. We did pass a few Taiwanese players in the hallway, though--number 32 and number 6, if you know your players--but no luck on venturing into American territory. Instead, we still had a good 20 minutes of waiting ahead of us, but now we had to do it in an even more confined space, pressing four lines into the space that previously held two so as to allow people to pass.
On the fun side of things, the people passing us to get onto the field included one MLB player (missed who it was, just registered that he was white and in a baseball uniform), the 90- and 94-year-old Taiwanese ex-pro-baseball players who were going to throw the first pitches of the game, and the Washington Nationals' mascot. So that was cool.
 |
| Fonda wasn't in the ranks, so she got some good shots from the front of the queue |
 |
| There it is. |
 |
| Mascot and the Taiwanese team! |
Oh, and the MLB team was standing right behind us, maybe 15 feet away. Right behind us! Did I mention we were not allowed to turn around? Torturous. But, again, Fonda to the rescue with the pictures!
Then came the singing. IF, that is, you could call it that...
We were set up to fail, really. Though the KAS kids had practiced for a while at school, apparently, we combined forces with them just yesterday, at which point we got a grand total of two run-throughs. Then, because all things must be symmetrical and aesthetically pleasing here, we had to have 40 people; yesterday we had just 28 or so, so KAS scavenged among their students and staff to come up with the remainder. As a result, today we had roughly 12 people who had never practiced the song at all.
Then there were the electronic issues. They gave us two mikes, and were told to follow those who had the mikes, because they also had earpieces to hear where we actually were in the song, rather than listening to the slightly-delayed music radiating down to us from the stadium speakers. There were several problems with this: 1) there were 2 'leaders,' who were not even remotely synched with each other, 2) one of the earpieces wasn't functioning fully, 3) the only way we could follow the mic'd people was by following their mic'd voices, ie those coming over the stadium speakers. As a result, we had roughly 3 groups singing their own unique version at any given point in time. It was disastrous.
I have never understood so clearly why EVERY MUSICIAN EVER ALWAYS has earpieces in at all times, or even why, in smaller settings, a personal amp is not enough to create cohesion. If only we could all have earpieces, we might have been synched, and then things would have been fine--our singing was okay, it was just our inability to sing as a group which spelled our downfall.
Oh well. We'll try again tomorrow, and there's really nowhere to go but up, right?
After the singing, we filed back out, laughed at ourselves, and most of us headed home. But first, of course, a picture.
Well, I've got to go now to set my alarm for tomorrow morning. After all, the second time's the charm, right? And who knows, maybe we'll be more successful then in finagling our way into meeting the MLB players. All problems aside, I still have no complaints whatsoever about getting to sing the national anthem at an MLB game here in Taiwan.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Stinky Tofu
I tried stinky tofu today! Actually, Rachel, Karina and I all tried it, and by 'it' in this case I mean we each had a tiny little piece about the size of a fingernail.
It was an interesting experience, but one that I knew was going to have to happen at some point this year. You see, stinky tofu (臭 豆腐) is a signature dish around here. Because, you know, what could be more appetizing than a dish for which, according to Wikipedia, "The traditional method for producing stinky tofu is to prepare a brine made from fermented milk, vegetables, and meat; the brine can also include dried shrimp, amaranth greens, mustard greens, bamboo shoots, and Chinese herbs," which is then fermented with the tofu. Apparently, the shrimp variation is particularly popular around here.
In any case, stinky tofu has been on my to-do list to eat since I got here. Every time I walked past a stand, though (and believe me, you can't avoid them here), the in-your-face-terrible smell would come wafting out and I would think "eh, maybe next time."
So what, you may ask, prompted me to go for it today?
Hard to say. Rachel, Karina, Brittany and I were at Rachel's host family's house for dinner, and they were asking if we'd tried it, or wanted to try it. Rachel said she might. I said I would if she would. So...we did.
And here's what I learned: eating it is fine. The chewing, you can hardly taste a thing, and it's by no means horrible. Then you swallow, and it's still okay. Give it a few seconds. And then...you realize that the smell, not the taste, has become lodged in your mouth. So, rather than having the actual, innocuous taste stuck in your mouth, you're stuck with the taste of the horrific smell, and it won't go away. Trust me, I tried: grape juice, then broth, then Asian pears. The only cure I found was concentrated sugar, which eventually came my way via the mango creamsicle they gave us for dessert and, later, the Hi-Chews I had at home. Still, it's a recurring kind of smell...
In other news, we ended up being at Rachel's host family's house for almost 5 hours, which was fun--their house reminded me, somehow, of Seattle (maybe because they have 3 kids so I felt like I should be nannying?). Our visit turned into an impromptu hours-long Chinese-and-Taiwanese lesson in which Brittany featured prominently, and which I lost entirely somewhere around hour 4. But I can now remember the tones on pineapple (鳳梨; 4th-2nd), and I learned the word for curious (好奇).
At one point the dad's dad came in (this was the beginning of the switch to Taiwanese), and he reminded me a lot of my own grandpa, which was great. There was also a strong family resemblance between him, his son, his daughter (who came to visit partway through), and his grandkids; being so far from my own family, it was great to see a complete and obvious family.
So it was a good evening, complete with memories of old experiences and the making of the new--memories which, like 臭豆腐, will stick around for a while.
It was an interesting experience, but one that I knew was going to have to happen at some point this year. You see, stinky tofu (臭 豆腐) is a signature dish around here. Because, you know, what could be more appetizing than a dish for which, according to Wikipedia, "The traditional method for producing stinky tofu is to prepare a brine made from fermented milk, vegetables, and meat; the brine can also include dried shrimp, amaranth greens, mustard greens, bamboo shoots, and Chinese herbs," which is then fermented with the tofu. Apparently, the shrimp variation is particularly popular around here.
 |
| First Google hit for "stinky tofu." Love it. |
In any case, stinky tofu has been on my to-do list to eat since I got here. Every time I walked past a stand, though (and believe me, you can't avoid them here), the in-your-face-terrible smell would come wafting out and I would think "eh, maybe next time."
So what, you may ask, prompted me to go for it today?
Hard to say. Rachel, Karina, Brittany and I were at Rachel's host family's house for dinner, and they were asking if we'd tried it, or wanted to try it. Rachel said she might. I said I would if she would. So...we did.
And here's what I learned: eating it is fine. The chewing, you can hardly taste a thing, and it's by no means horrible. Then you swallow, and it's still okay. Give it a few seconds. And then...you realize that the smell, not the taste, has become lodged in your mouth. So, rather than having the actual, innocuous taste stuck in your mouth, you're stuck with the taste of the horrific smell, and it won't go away. Trust me, I tried: grape juice, then broth, then Asian pears. The only cure I found was concentrated sugar, which eventually came my way via the mango creamsicle they gave us for dessert and, later, the Hi-Chews I had at home. Still, it's a recurring kind of smell...
In other news, we ended up being at Rachel's host family's house for almost 5 hours, which was fun--their house reminded me, somehow, of Seattle (maybe because they have 3 kids so I felt like I should be nannying?). Our visit turned into an impromptu hours-long Chinese-and-Taiwanese lesson in which Brittany featured prominently, and which I lost entirely somewhere around hour 4. But I can now remember the tones on pineapple (鳳梨; 4th-2nd), and I learned the word for curious (好奇).
At one point the dad's dad came in (this was the beginning of the switch to Taiwanese), and he reminded me a lot of my own grandpa, which was great. There was also a strong family resemblance between him, his son, his daughter (who came to visit partway through), and his grandkids; being so far from my own family, it was great to see a complete and obvious family.
So it was a good evening, complete with memories of old experiences and the making of the new--memories which, like 臭豆腐, will stick around for a while.
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