My Turn

Now that Keith is gone, I feel some responsibility to keep this thing going. Perhaps I should change the name...

I was contemplating how my experience will change, being here on my own. It's hard to think of improving my Mandarin since I won't be here much longer. But then it can't get worse. I've been here over a year and am still challenged to communicate at all. I do get a little practice every day, mostly ordering tea or food. And still it requires huge patience on the part of whoever I'm talking with. Here I've translated a typical experience:

Me: Please give me a dirty cup of person pork milk tea.

Vendor: umm.... Ah. You want a medium bubble tea?

Me: Right. I don't want soup.

Vendor: No sugar?

Me. right.

Vendor: 25NT

I promptly hand over my 40 NT (because I've misheard), and the vendor kindly hands back my change.

Every once in a while I run into a person who actually refuses to understand me, even when I'm sure I'm saying something correctly, because I'm a westerner and they can't grasp the concept of someone who looks like me speaking in Mandarin.

But more often than not, people are unbelievably patient and understanding. They make suggestions, mime and try their high school English as I mercilessly mangle their ancient and respected language. I won't be able to do it for much longer, so I'll try to get out there a little more.

Well, this's unexpected

So, to all of our four faithful readers, there's been an unexpected kink in this, our overseas adventure. First, let me 'splain. No, there is too much, let me sum up:

I had reapplied to Eastern Washington's grad program to finally finish my grad degree. I've been accepted; however, a key class they decided was necessary and vital for me to prove I understand before I get the degree is only offered in the fall, every two years. So I either get back to the States by this time next week or I don't go at all.

So, unfortunately, I have to get out of the country with a great deal of alacrity. Marie's going to be here for another couple of months, finishing her classes, clearing out our apartment, finding someone who wants three pounds of raisin bran I just bought at Costco... and I'm packing like mad.

I'm trying to guess what I'll need for a couple months on my own and what I should ship home 'cause it's cheaper than buying it again but it'll take a month to arrive and I don't want Marie to have to struggle with packing a lot of stuff as she's living and leaving on her own... that sound like an overheated microchip would be my brain.

I think my only major regret now is that I just discovered a good way to feel like I'm experiencing Taiwan: hiking and biking around the city. It feels like I'd barely started but I don't have time now to see more. We were even supposed to go on another rafting trip in a few weeks, and Marie and I had talked about going south to Kenting to the national park and beach there for a little vacation. But we don't have time for that either.

And of course, there's the separation. Right now, it doesn't feel like we'll be on opposite ends of the world. We've traveled enough and we have ways of communicating that it might feel like I'm in Cheney and she's in Seattle, I hope. We'll see.

In the process of packing I've come across fleece sweatshirts and jackets I haven't seen for months or longer, and I'm very excited to be going somewhere where I can use them. I did see Seattle is still running high seventies some days, but here, it doesn't get below 85 until three a.m. and then it's already warming up. I've forgotten what it's like to not be sticky. So there are good things ahead.

And of course, there's the language thing.

But now that I have to get out in a hurry, I'm suddenly feeling like Taiwan, like many places where you spend real time, has gone unexplored. In spite of the effort and time it suddenly feels like we've barely seen anything. I think that feeling's a given, between the nostalgia of living in a place for this long and that I've known for months that we haven't done or seen what we wanted, because of class schedules, cost, or heat. But it's still a poignant regret. And this possibly more so because it's not easy to think we could return.

So, last entry from me from Taiwan. I hope it's been worth reading.

The heat of September

September is Ghost month, it's an oooold tradition of appeasing ghosts and giving gifts to family who have passed on, usually in the form of money, but fake money. You can buy bricks of the fake stuff for next to nothing, but how, you ask, do you get it to the ghosts and family members? Why by burning it, naturally.

It's about 95 degrees and 60 percent humidity so it feels like a hundred and ten so it must be time to burn things!














This's one of a thousand of these things. Some are quite large. That's one on the right.














Even the companies get in on the act with tables of food offerings and a fire in front of the office to burn "money."

I know we grill hot dogs and hamburgers in the heat of July and August, but just picture walking down the street, any street, on your way to work, dodging from shade to shade 'cause that takes off ten degrees from the feeling of hundred plus heat, and then you walk by a full on fire burning blocks of paper, which as literature has taught us, is 451 degrees. It is, literally, staggering because you will take an involuntary step away from the heat, even if it means stepping into direct sunlight.

Now do it ten more times on your way to work. I am whining. It's hot here. It's just disappointing that we couldn't have these little oases of warmth drawing you nearer in November or March, instead they're driving people away.

But at least I don't have this job.















What d'ya do when you need a park lawn mowed? You get a bunch of guys with gas-powered weedwackers. Really. They get a half-a-dozen guys or so with these things, making noise like mutant yellow jackets taking over the city, and they go to work on whole fields. I've seen it several times and been agog and bewildered every time.

Did I mention I had Friday off? A class I've had for months on Fridays finally dissolved. I'd feel bad about not working and not making money, but I don't. I really didn't like that class.

Teaching 'tween-agers a foreign language until ten on a Friday night does no one any good. They're cranky and difficult and stubborn, not unreasonably but still, so it's hard to enjoy it week after week. So I was really glad to exchange it, even with the lost income, for an afternoon biking down the Xindian river.















I watched this guy work on flying his dragon kite for a few minutes. It seemed like an infuriatingly difficult thing to fly. I watched a couple times as he landed the thing and untwisted the tail. And it seemed to be all tail.














This corner gave me an idea of how crowded things must get on a weekend. There isn't an actual stop sign, but there is a line there so you know where to stop. And they have these road signs, just like for auto traffic. This says, if you're going to Gongguan go left, for Jingmei go right. They're neighborhoods and metro rail stops, and Jingmei is the name of the river you follow, so it's hard to say specifically what they're pointing to.

But the width of these "trails" is amazing. You can see the tip of a double-yellow line there. And they go for miles. Oh, and some places are paved in this great asphalt that gives your tires a whirring, whizzing sound like a high-performance engine revving. Nice touch.

I was really glad I went to the trouble of renting a bike. I haven't been on a bike for more than a year, so having another way to get around was a real treat. And things were nearly deserted. Very few bikes and people on paths and trails made for hundreds... or thousands.

It was quite hot and humid, but biking adds that breeze which makes this time of year tolerable, at least, if you're willing to work for it, so really, you sweat either way, but this way I got to see miles of park and river I'd never seen before, or would any other way.

And I went biking for two-and-a-half hours, for a 100 NT. If I haven't done the exchange enough yet, that's about three bucks. Good deal.

And this was just a riot. I love how signs in this town make as little or less sense than stuff in the States.



I saw this and came to a screeching stop 'cause I knew I had to take a picture. It wasn't that I stopped really fast, but the front disc brake was worn so it shrieked when I used it hard.

And finally, the only way to appreciate this is aurally. Turn your sound WAY up so you too can experience what Marie and I hear when parades and other traditional Chinese events take place in our neighborhood and down our street.



I know it's kinda mean, but can anyone find the beat that guy's clapping?!

This music's a local thing and we haven't gotten used to it. I've seen these lessons before and these are much more tolerable. I can't hear a difference between this and what they play in a parade, but in the parade they come down or near our street and they're electrified. So in the canyons of buildings it's loud, even inside our apartment, five floors up.

I like the hikes I've taken, getting away from the city and such, but biking here's a blast. It's so flat. I'll have to see if I can get Marie out in the heat before we leave.