Christmas greetings

Can't believe it is around the corner again. Sometimes I feel like the Grinch. Christmas is always a busy time for us here in Taiwan and the worst is that it is NOT a holiday, hence no "time off." Yes, you've heard me correctly. It is a normal working day for us here. So for those of you who have the luxury to relax a bit and enjoy the Christmas cheers with family and friends, think of me here while you are celebrating and I can certainly use some good vibes you've sent to beat all these deadlines.

The only good thing about not having it as a mandated holiday is that I can skip all this shopping- and I don't complain on that. It used to be hard to be a Taiwanese in the U.S. We shopped for Christmas and gave money out to family for the Chinese New Year. Doubling spending, you know.

I have problem uploading a video to this site so instead I am linking you to my Christmas greeting video on vox.

Vox does not allow non-members to leave a comment so if you want to leave a message for me, you are welcome to comment here.

Happy holidays.

Daddy's Birthday

Dad called me yesterday, which was unusual because my folks rarely called me up. I remember calling them every weekend when I lived in the States, just wanting to hear their voices and know how they were doing. So on picking up the phone, I said to dad, "wow wow, what a surprise that you called." He said he did because he hadn't heard from me for a while. Now you have to know that my parents have five kids-me being the oldest and always the one who wandered miles away from them. When their grandchildren were born, they were too happy and occupied to check on me, and I did not
mind(well maybe a little)because I used to live in a place that was day and night apart from where they were. But for dad to call on a regular Sunday..I was suspicious..what was going on?

It turned out that it was Dad's birthday yesterday. And I forgot about it. This morning I was driving around running for errands, and all of a sudden I remembered that. Darn, I swore to myself, and felt so bad about forgetting it. No wonder dad called. He must have been receiving happy birthday wishes from my siblings and the grand kids all day long, except for from me. "What should I do?" I thought to myself. In our culture, it is okay to celebrate a birthday early, but never late. Never. So I was debating whether or not I should send dad a belated birthday wish. And there is one thing, I do not quite feel like driving home because I have to be back at work in the morning. I just don't like to drive, and purposefully try to avoid it when the gas price keeps climbing up.

So I tried calling my sister Carol, who might still be home from visiting for the weekend. I wanted to see if she had driven home and if I could catch a ride back here tomorrow. She did not answer the phone. So I called my mother instead. Mom has Monday tea ceremony classes in a town that is close to me. I thought she probably wouldn't mind coming over here to pick me up on the way home tonight. But it turns out that mom is doing her volunteer work today in a different city. Still, I am glad that I called because I found out today is actually Dad's birthday on the Lunar Calender. Well, lucky me. Then it is not too late to celebrate if I can make it home by today. So I rushed to a nearby bakery to order a cake and went to the bank to cash money for the gift. I usually give Dad aftershaves for his birthday. I just think someone should be a constant supplier for that because he doesn't shop for himself. In fact, I tried to present a different type of lotion or cologne for his birthday or Father's Day each year. An alternative is to offer a red envelope which can be seen as a standard good luck charm in this culture. It can't go wrong with money!

I am just glad that I did not miss the big day and I want to celebrate it with my folks. I am happy that I am here, living in the same country to see them whenever I want, and I want them to know that by driving back home to spend a night with them, I show my respect and love for them. So here it is, the red envelope. It says, "daddy, wishing you a happy birthday, good health and all that you've ever wanted."

Teacher's Day Eulogy

As I was going through the motion of another routineous day, I remembered very well that it was the Grand Teacher's Day when the ancient Chinese philosopher Confucius was honored for his birthday. Didn't we use to get a day off and didn't we use to send cards to our teachers? Now it is not celebrated as a holiday although its significance remains on the calendar with a tiny mark next to the day.

So it was a work day for me on a day that was not publicly acknowledged anymore. I sat with my morning freshman psych. classes in an international conference which they were forced to attend. I felt like a nanny and many times I feel so in my current job. What was really funny was that the department sent a student worker to remind me of my duty to keep the students from skipping the event. The topic was music therapy and I doubted how many of them felt truly inspired at their age? Why did they call this an international conference anyway when the audience wasn't international at all?

At 3:30pm, my dear student Mr. Liu showed up to present a card to me. It was the third time in a roll that he did this and I, on seeing him outside of my office waiting, suppressed my tears. I really wanted to hug and thank him for remembering me on this day. For the first time in three years, I felt like a teacher who was truly appreciated by a student. I told him how special he was and he seemed embarrassed, not expecting this to come from me-a teacher. Taiwanese student may not be used to hearing compliments. But I ignored that and told him how much he had made my day.

On the card, he wrote, "dear teacher, I want to know if you are as pretty as ever, and I hope they are not killing you with this amount of work. I wish you are more beautiful each year. Thank you for being a part of my life." How can I not feel touched by sweet words like these? Mr. Liu certainly did not expect me to read the card in front of him. I answered each of his questions in the card and asked him to show me the secret of staying young and beautiful as we age.

There was this person in my life whom I owed thanks to on every Teacher's Day. It was my first English teacher Mr. Huang in junior high school. He gave me a key to the world by leading me to understand the north American cultures and language. He was not only a teacher, but a father figure to his young students by giving his love unconditionally. There I was, a sad girl searching for the meanings of life at the age of 13. I did not like school and doubted why I had to be imprisoned in a culture where my individualism was not valued. I wanted an outlet to a different life and found my escape in the world of English. I felt as if I was in a different world where I could be who I was, without having to abide by the rules of absurdity. It was a make-believe world where I temporarily relieved myself from the boredom of life.

Mr. Huang raised two children on his own after his wife had passed away. He would often come by and reach out to hold us, urging us to practice English with him. But we all ran away. Studying English for more than five hours a day was drilling to young teens. As much as I enjoyed learning it, I couldn't help join other students for a complaint from time to time.

It was when I was in college that I heard Mr. Huang had cancer and was very sick in the hospital. I was in shock and did not know what to do to cheer him up. I had not kept in touch with him although I was one of his favorite students. I was too scared to go see him. From other former classmates, I learned that he was not doing well. Several of them had visited him. And I, waited, and waited until one day I heard that he had passed away. I heard that he worked away typing the English practice sheets for his students on his sick bed, until the very last day of his life.

All these years, I felt like a coward because I was too afraid of death to visit Mr. Huang while he was still alive. I missed my chance of saying goodbye. Mostly, I miss him so much that I wish I could see him smiling with his cute buck teeth again. I know that he is in good hands with the Lord but I really miss him. I want to ask him to teach me to say the double "r" in Spanish, again and again. I would practice very hard until I get it right this time. And I would tell him that he is the best teacher that I've ever had, the most talented Asian teacher who rolled his tongue so well when speaking Spanish. I want to tell him that I was mimicking his ways in teaching my own English classes to teenagers when I was back in college, and I had done very well producing some excellent students who went on to shine in the world of the English language. Perhaps I've managed to keep his legacy?

I am writing this in memory of the one and only Mr. Huang from Concordia Middle School, for he inspired me to interact with another world that I found comfort in my early miserable teen years. I love you very much Mr. Huang. Can you see that I just got a card from a student? I wish you had an address that I can send my card to.

Beauty or Persecution?

Some say it is inhuman to treat women like this while others say these women and girls should be freed from wearing coils on the neck. I simply do not judge. There is nothing wrong in letting people do whatever they want to preserve their own cultures. Most of the long neck tribe live in the mountains of Mae Hong Son where they are widely spread out. This village we visited was only a "show case" where souvenir selling was a major activity.


Perhaps they took turns to man the exhibition booths. Perhaps they lived in the tents for a few days before other tribal women came in to take over the duties. I saw women caring for little ones, girls putting special make-ups on to attract visitors and mostly people persuading us to shop.

One of the visitors, a nurse, reached out to touch a little girl's neck, saying that she had suffered from an allergy to brass. I tried to stop her from doing that. It was an act of disrespect to me and I did not like that. This lady expressed her sympathy and swore that something needed to be done to "rescue" these women and girls from wearing the brass coils.

What right do we outsiders have to judge what is good for people from a different culture? Can we be forcing our values on them without understanding the history of their perceptions of beauty? On my return flight to Bangkok, I read that the Long Neck tribe actually welcomed the help from the government to draw their community together. The government's plan was to help with the housing and life subsidy by opening their community to visitors without charging a fee to enter. Of course it can be seen as a scheme to spruce up tourism. At the same time, it helps the villagers earn extra incomes to improve their lives in the mountain. It can be interpreted as enabling the sharing of the tribal cultures too. As long as a permission has been obtained from the tribe, or most of the people from the tribe, they can decide their own future.

But when I heard one of these women talking with a coarse voice and the little girl breathing hard as I sat beside her, I couldn't help wondering if that might have been the result from wearing this heavy metal..Would I change my position to become one of these "rescuer wanna be"s if more adverse facts were presented to me? I do not know what to think anymore.

Aka boys

Walking quietly up the hill with bamboo shoots in the bags, they made no sounds and I couldn't read their emotions. I spoke a simple Thai hello, had an urge to shop for the goods, but the ridiculous thought of carrying a bamboo shoot in a mountaineering trip stopped me. They didn't speak back. I posed beside them for a photo and oops, I didn't ask for their permission. But how would I know if they had granted me an okay for photo shooting? They didn't speak at all. I felt that I was taking advantage of their silence. How many bamboo shoots could they sell each day and who had sent them up here? I waived a good bye and walked to the car. They seemed to frown a little but perhaps it was just my illusion. I kept turning back to check on them, waiving my arm several times and there they were, standing still, looking at me. They did not move at all. I waived my final good bye before getting into the car, and finally one of them waived back. The gesture melted my heart at that moment. I wanted to make sure that they knew we were leaving and we weren't going back to buy those bamboo shoots. Weren't they supposed to be in school at this time of the day? Were they curious at us too as we were at them? What if I were born an Aka woman? Was this the way I would have raised my children and would I surrender to my fate?

For the rest of the clear day in northern Thailand, these boys' images stayed with me. I wondered what they did and where they went after our brief encounter.

A few things in life

I was at my parents making Thai curry and realized we were out of coconut milk. I went around the corner to to a tiny grocery stand which have been in existence since I was very little.

I asked in Chinese, "do you sell coconut milk in a can?" The man looked at me as if I were from outer planet and replied with disgust in Taiwanese, "can you speak Taiwanese?" Heck of course I speak the language, not super great but comprehensible. All I had in mind was that my curry was sitting on the stove and I was in desperate need of this very ingredient, which the traditional taste relied mainly on. You know how some words can slip off the word bank when you need it the most. I stood there and thought about it for two seconds, only failed to remember how to say it in Taiwanese. I looked on the shelves to ignore his question, "it comes in a can, you know, coconut milk," I said again. The mid-day sun was scorching me badly that I was starting to lose patience in looking and decided to head home. "No, I don't think you have it." I talked to myself. "No", he said those words in Chinese. Apparently he heard my self-talk. "But you don't speak Taiwanese?" He raised his voice. I was irritated. It sounded like he was interrogating me like this:
1. How sad that you don't speak Taiwanese living in Taiwan, or.
2. Taiwanese should be used more predominantly than Chinese in Taiwan. And, this woman does not speak it? That is just not right. She has to speak Taiwanese.

I felt being disciminated upon at that very moment. In smaller towns of Taiwan where people claim the real Taiwanese identity, discrimination like this does happen. But I've only seen it on TV or heard about it. To be confronted like this was novelty to me. And it happened in my very home town.

I waved to the store impatiently and said, "no, I don't" in Chinese and then as I walked away, I made a face that he couldn't see and continued with my self-talk "non, je ne parle pas and it is none of your business!" I wasn't even PMSing but was not a happy camper either.

Enough about this. I went home and made myself some English fruit tea. Immediately I felt much better. English tea does wonders to me.

Karaoke

The last time I went to a karaoke was perhaps when I studied for my Ph.D. in Colorado a decade ago. From time to time, the bored Taiwanese students would ask me to join them and we would car-pooled out to Denver for a night out. We had our moments with karaoke.

My friend Jane is a very good singer and she performed at restaurants when she was still in college. She had asked me to go with her to a Karaoke but it hadn't happened until a couple of days ago when I was really bummed and in a bad mood. At the lunch with Eric and Jane, I proposed to have a "singing our hearts out night" and Jane gladly agreed to go.

We were taken to this huge room with only the three of us! The snacks were not impressive but we loved how we could be our own DJs with the innnovative digital song request system. Jane dedicated an English song to me at the end and she sang so beautifully. Her specialty is Taiwanese songs and I think she is one of the best singers that I have ever heard. Even the very reserved Eric tagged along and he did pretty well too. As for me, I tried some Taiwanese songs with Jane's help. She thought I was good, but I had problem with some of the Taiwanese lyrics. Well, having a compliment from a pro was something!

These two photos were taken with my Nokia N-70 phone camera. Jane didn't mind my spontaneous photo shooting but Eric was not thrilled with it. He blocked my camera with his microphone.