The Interpretator, Part Two

It was a shame the woman (it had to be a woman - no self respecting man I know would write like that...and the legible handwriting was a pretty clear clue, too) hadn't given much hint as to where the hat was.
But I had an advantage. She was a parent. Parents always hide things in closets. Sometimes the attic, but seriously, no one likes going in the attic, and she was probably afraid of spiders or something, so she probably put it in a closet; likely hers.
That's how my parents were.

So, I was digging around: I found all sorts of things - unpaid bills, Christmas cards separated into two piles, some hole-filled clothing that someone must've meant to fix, bank statements, and some stuff that convinced me most everyone's more kinky than they let on. Man, you just never know someone till you dig through their closet.
But there was no hat. At least, there were hats, but I couldn't find a way to make any of them dangerous. The closest I got was, I looked dangerously queer wearing them. I guess that's something. Maybe they were concerned about the kids cross-dressing or something. Who the hell knows?
I took one last look at the closet.
Yep....
It was a closet.
Odd corners and all. Full of junk, like a closet. Maybe more dented than some - one of the corners looked like it'd been poorly repaired - but, hey, not everyone's an expert.
Ah, maybe they sold it.
So I went downstairs to my couch. And sat. If closets were only full of junk, then I guess couches were only good for sitting. Nothing interesting was going to happen tonight. Same as ever.


I'd been counting the specks on the ceiling. It wasn't one of those sprayed on ones that some houses had, but nonetheless, there were quite a few spots. Must come with having kids. It wasn't entertaining. It beat TV. I was just counting again, even assigning constellations, when something occurred to me. The bedroom, and closet, were directly above this room. There were no odd corners here. In the closet, of course that'd happen on the one side, since there's always some machinery or odd angle in the attic, but on the side where the load-bearing wall was, if there was something there, it should continue down to the ground, unless it was done as some sort of post-modern commentary on the structure of houses, and society, and the family in general. I doubted it was. Unless the whole point of it being hidden away and never seen by anyone was...
No, that was dumb. How many frustrated postmodern architects were there, anyway?
I would check out the closet again, because there was something odd about that angle.

The Interpretator, part 1

Well, I said I'd write for an hour every day...but my mind is not cooperating much right now. How's this for an extremely terrible story? Odd that an unproductive mind has born some fruit.

• THE INTERPRETATOR. INTERPRETATING CRIME.

It was a dark, drizzly day. It always was. Shouldn't even be called day around here.
I was just settling in for a dark, drizzly evening of couchsitting. I wanted to make sure it didn't go anywhere, and, while I wasn't getting paid good money to do it, I was getting something: the opportunity to watch TV in someone else's house.

You might wonder why I don't go home and watch the tube. Well, home doesn't have Japanese game shows. Or Korean soaps. Poorly translated Chinese everything. No, this was definitely a perk of this particular job. And this was a job I intended to see through to the very end.

So, yeah, I was being paid to sit on my ass. Not a bad deal. And not one I was going to leave.

I guess I should mention I was also broke. That also helped make the job.

So I had pretty well settled in, watched a bunch of trash - the usual poorly budgeted soaps from Taiwan, complete with ghosts and insane people setting their homes on fire, some puppet shows, a transcendently beautiful Korean soap that nonetheless was indistinguishable from every other Korean soap ever made, a Japanese show that, as far as I can figure, was about humiliating both children and their parents, and probably some other stuff while I was half-dozing.

I woke up a little when a kung-fu drama came on. It had some guy flying around in what looked like a big red tube. Not sure what that was, but at least it was different. For the hell of it I dug around in the cushions. I'd like to say dag. I really would. But, you know, I'm just real regular about some things, and I guess I'm just gonna keep saying dug. All the usual accumulated crud was back there. I pulled some of the less gross stuff out to see if it was worth anything.

There were the usual keys, bits of popcorn, coins, dead bugs, dog's/children's toys, the remote, just very mundane stuff. I'd wondered about that remote, before. I supposed I could change the channel now, if I wanted. I didn't, though. There was a note, too - "honey, I am putting the speed hat away. I don't want you letting the children near it. It's much too dangerous."

I looked at the crumpled, (soda?)-stained paper again. A dangerous hat?

Well, that sounded better than whatever shit was on TV.

More things you should know (about Taiwan)

At the top of my blog right now there is an ad, "Urination cone for women." That's what I get for writing about toilets, I guess.

As you may have guessed, last time's short list didn't cover everything.


So, without further ado...

大

That's the character for 'big'. It's said, "da", with a descending tone. Not condescending. Descending. You know the way you speak? Most of you probably start a sentence off at a higher pitch, then get lower as you come to the end. Think of going from that high pitch to the lower, finishing pitch, but in one sound/word.

It looks like a guy with his arms spread really wide, doesn't it?
It's good to know.

小

That's 'small'. It's said something like (shiao), with a descending, then rising tone. Do the falling tone, like for the last character, then think of the way you end a question. You know the way your pitch goes up? Do that right after the falling tone. It's all done on that one little word.


It's good to know those two characters. When you go to order food, the server might ask you whether you want a large or small order, or they might be listed on the menu.
Also, you could recognize the name of my school, which is 台大 (台 is short for 台灣 - that's Taiwan, and 大 is short for 大學 - literally, big school/learning).

And yes, the tones do matter. If you say da with the falling, rising pitch that's used in 小, it means "hit", "punch", "fight", or play. So probably, you don't want to say that. If someone asks what you want, and you tell them you want a punch, what do you think might happen? heheh.
And if you say 小 with the falling pitch, it could mean "smile", or "laugh". Getting either of those is better than a punch, but it will not get you food, or clothing, or whatever else might have different sizes.




Alright, that's enough characters for now. You probably think they're a headache. You're right. They are. Those are simple ones.


One thing you will notice right away - people here do not want to get tan. At all. Girls walk under umbrellas when the sun's out (or when it's raining. About the only time they don't use an umbrella is when it's cloudy; probably half the time). People do not go to the beach to tan. (Actually, they don't go to swim, either. So I'm not sure why they go to the beach. But they sure do! Beaches are crowded on weekends.)
Stores are full of whitening agents. So for those of you like me, that is, ghostly pale, you will be greatly envied. If you're a woman, you can probably get a modeling job here.

It's not that they want to look like white people. Not at all! No, it's here like it was everywhere else in the old days - having a tan means you're poor. Farmers are poor. Farmers are out in the sun all day, as are almost all other manual laborers. They're all poor, and they all have tans. Only people who can afford to stay inside are pale. I assume this will change in time, but for now, pale is sexy. Enjoy it while it lasts!


Not a very nice segue at all, but the next thing you'll notice is trash. Actually, it's probably the second thing you'll notice here, after toilets.
First: one might be inclined to ask, "WHERE THE HELL IS THE TRASH CAN?" Or, if you're more patient/polite, you will simply carry your trash around in your hand or pocket for the better part of the day. It's hard to find trash cans. I asked someone why that was, and the explanation I got was,
"So that people don't throw trash all over the place."
Yeah.

When you do find a trash can, there will be recycling next to it. Notice I did not say, "there will be a recycling can next to it." No, there is unfortunately no singular form for recycling can in this country. There are always at least four separate kinds of bins for recyclables. Good luck figuring them out.

One last thing that you'll wish you didn't notice: trash trucks are musical. You see, Taiwan has not yet invented or imported the dumpster. The concept of a large garbage container apparently eludes the best and brightest of Taiwan. So, that means you have to hold onto your garbage until the trash truck shows up. You run out to it, hurl your garbage into it, then go home. It's like watching the stupidest ambush, except that no one is excited.
Oh, and all that sorting of recyclables you did? They all go in the same truck. But it's required by law that you separate them.
And the trucks all play "Für Elise". Not even the whole thing, either. Just the start. Over and over. You can hear its biting, electro-chiming barbs floating across the city everywhere you go.
I'd say I can't stand the tune now...but...check this out!


Gotta admit, that's pretty cool.


That's it for now!

Things you should know

Should you choose to come to Taiwan, there are many things that either you had best know already, or that you will learn.

• Chopsticks. You will use them.

While Taiwan is a very modern country in many ways, people still insist on putting sticks in their mouths. I suppose everyone keeps some old habits.
Forks and knives are sometimes available, depending on the restaurant. If you go to an actual sit-down restaurant, they very well may have silverware available. Don't count on it, as this is only a possibility. If you visit a food-vendor's stall, or someone's home... you have two realistic choices: use those sticks, or find a way to eat with your hands that doesn't look too barbaric (or get you too greasy). Or you can eat like a dog, I suppose, though your host may not be impressed. (Side note: from what I understand, some of the older folks, especially the mainlanders, still think of all non-Chinese as barbarians. Jokingly. But not that jokingly.)

• Toilets. You may be surprised.

Again, while Taiwan is a modern country in many ways, there apparently is some fondness for squatting over a hole in the ground; this is expressed in modern commode design. In a concession to modernity, they now have ceramic holes in the ground, complete with flushable water, and a splash guard. You do not sit on them, you squat over them. The upside is you never have to touch another filthy toilet again. That is a rather major advantage. There's no downside, unless you have bad balance, and then the downside is where your hand goes. There are sit-down toilets in many modern bathrooms, like in the MRT stations and nicer shopping areas; some are even aggressively modern and have a bewildering assortment of buttons and options - these are imports from Japan. I have no idea what the buttons do, aside from the heater, the bidet function, and what looks to possibly be a service bell.

• Toilet Paper - more confusing than you think.

Since we're on the subject already: upon entering the bathroom, you will notice that it smells worse than what you're used to (well, most of you). And, should you enter a stall, you will notice a small trash can. This is not where you put your old coffee cups and food wrappers. No. It's a sort of paper that comes into contact with ...post-processed food, shall we say, when you're on the....

Yes, they have signs and everything. "Please do not flush toilet paper." They warn of all sorts of dire consequences. Or they'll anthropomorphize the toilet and it'll be saying something like, "PLEASE DON'T FEED ME TOILET PAPER, I WILL VOMIT."
Maybe I exaggerate. But not by much.

• Toilet paper. No, of course we're not done.

I should also mention that bathrooms often have no paper whatsoever, unless you count the ones that have thoughtfully been pre-moistened and pre-tested for you. (I suppose if you wanted to be clever you could substitute a three-letter word that rhymes with "pre-"). You can find those in the can. However, for those of us who are not fond of strange people's bodily functions (or even those we know well - perhaps they are worse, in some ways), you must bring your own tissue. Fortunately, nearly everyone carries some with them; it comes in little pocket-sized packets. It's ubiquitous. Hucksters and advertisers of all sorts will hand out free packets of tissue as you pass by, especially in election season. They are not pointing out your poor hygiene. No, those packets all have pictures and ads on them. They travel with you everywhere, for quite some time, so you do have a better chance of remembering them. However, you also tend to associate those politicians or products with something that rap has been accused of being (and with which it even rhymes!), and I'm not sure that's...productive. (Side note: if you sweat a lot, people will offer you some of their tissues. They also wipe tables with them.)

• English. Oh, the fond memories.

If you are familiar with English, if you think of it fondly, or at least dislike it only a little, you may enjoy reading the English in the local environment. I'm sure most of you have heard of "Engrish". If not - it's what happens when the rest of the world tries to use our language. The Japanese are apparently the worst and most serious offenders, but the Chinese are giving them a serious run for the money. Sometimes it's simple, but odd, matters of word choice - archaic words are a favorite. For example, when you ride the MRT, you will hear: "when you alight, please heed the platform gap." To my knowledge, I had never before heard someone actually say that word. At least not in that sense. Other times it's a matter of mis-spelled words that accidentally spell something funny. Other times it's just...odd. At home, we can buy a Corvette, or a Camero, or something like that, right? People ride scooters here. This here's a scooter town. So, naturally, there are many makes and models of scooters. One of my favorites is the model called, simply, "Heroism." I had never thought it possible before to ride a concept to death. But someone has found a way. Oh, and speaking of death -

• Traffic. Better than third world countries.

Scooters are popular, as I mentioned. Sometimes it's the only transportation a person, or family, has, and I can report that yes, it is indeed possible to fit an entire family - Mom, Dad, brother, sister, baby, and the dog, on one scooter. When I say scooter, you, like I did, probably think of some puttering mis-begotten motorcycle. That may have been accurate once. But I know, from personal experience, that they can generally attain 50mph fairly easily. You are not strapped in, of course, though they recently passed a law here requiring all riders to wear helmets, which I've heard is helping.
Anyway, there are swarms of scooters. They buzz about everywhere, weaving. There are also a fair number of cars, trucks, busses, and etc. Many of them are, like the scooters, not especially careful. And that brings us to -

• Taxi drivers.
  

They want you to die.

I don't think they care one way or another whether they get paid first; they probably would prefer you dead before you arrive, since in that case they can take all the money off your corpse. They will ignore all rules of traffic whensoever the whim strikes them. Red lights, blind alleys, blind turns, steep mountains, canyons - these are merely obstacles, and ones deserving only contempt. Never tell them you are in a hurry; they will take this as an invitation to show off their car-chase skills, in addition of course to their general disregard or outright disdain for human life and safety. If ever you want to make a cheap car-chase movie, this is where you'll do it. Just...you wouldn't be riding in it yourself, of course. That's what actors are for.
Oh, I got sidetracked for a moment - I forgot to mention that for aesthetic reasons, all taxis have their seatbelts jammed somewhere inside the seat. If you search, you will not find. Just give up. You're going to die anyway, might as well be in a taxi, going somewhere.

On the positive side, they are relatively talkative and even somewhat friendly, which makes their fierce disregard for life somewhat...jarring. Also, fares are cheap, compared to most places I've been to.
And finally, regarding your well-being, we have:

• Medicine. Better than you thought.

If you're only taking a short trip, let's hope you don't get sick. After all, you can get sick anywhere, why try it somewhere new? However, if you're here a little longer, something is bound to happen, and when it does, you're in luck. Taiwan has a good medical system. True, they don't always have the very latest surgical techniques or equipment, but they are more than competent in what they do have. I'm totally uneducated, and the wrong person to make this sort of assessment, but I'm here, and I'd guess Taiwan's medical system is just 5-10 years behind ours in general. Anyway, going to the doctor here is very cheap. If you go without insurance, the fees may approach what you'd pay in the US for minor things. But if you have the national insurance, or are a student, you are in great luck. For example, we have a clinic on campus. Before I had insurance, a trip to the doctor cost $90 NT ($3 US!). Medicine was extra, but generally only cost another $2-300 NT. Now that I have insurance, it's only $50 (~$1.70 US!) to see the doctor, and medicine is included. I went to the emergency room a few weeks ago for reasons I already wrote about, and that only cost me about $600 (or $700?) NT - less than $20 US. Not bad.
I hear some people come here just to have surgery done - it's like Mexico, but better. And friendlier.

Anyway, that's about enough for now. There's plenty more to talk about, and maybe I will soon. 再見!

Beaches in Taiwan

Another sudden interruption of nothingness!

Do you wonder, when God interrupted the nothingness the first time, was it irritated at the break in its routine?

Probably not. Being irritated would be something, which is exactly what nothing is not.
Anyway.


I recently decided I would write for one hour every day. That won't necessarily always be here, but that means I probably will write here more often.

So, I suppose I should say something.



I'm going to post some more photos pretty soon - 三個星期以前我跟家寧去沙灘倒了．I felt like typing in Chinese. Of course most of you can't read it, so here's what Babelfish says I said -

Three weeks before I rather went to the sand beach with the family but actually

So now you know Babelfish is crap. Let's see if Google is any better!

Three weeks ago I told Andrew Ning goes to the beach

So, now you know you should never, ever buy automatic translation software. Even if I totally screwed up, which is very possible, the two shouldn't be quite that different, right?

Here's what I think I said:

Three weeks ago Jianing and I went to the beach.

So let's assume I am right (my understanding of 到/去 is not very good, nor is my understanding of grammar in general, in any language. Surprising for someone who likes to write, isn't it?) in saying that, and move on.


Something you should know about Taiwan: many of the people here either do not, or cannot, swim. I thought this was strange at first, but it turns out there's a good reason for it: it rains really hard here. No, it's not that they're tired of the water, though I suspect some wouldn't mind sending a few fat rainclouds somewhere else - instead, Taiwan is a very mountainous and small island. This means that rivers are very short, and when they are flowing, they flow very hard. Swimming in the rivers here could be considered a suicide attempt at worst, or the culmination of a life-long habit of drinking heavily and having bad ideas at best.
"Well, what about lakes? Or the ocean?", you might be saying. As for lakes, there aren't many - as I said, this is a very mountainous (read: steep) island, and not especially large. There just aren't many lakes. They've found space for a few reservoirs, but those are off limits as they are drinking water (this has never been a problem in the US, I know, but this country has its legal quirks. Whether I meant oddities in the legal system or quirks that are legal, I leave up to you. Either would likely be appropriate.).

That leaves the sea. As I may have mentioned, the island is quite mountainous. It rises sharply from the sea, and just didn't see any reason to stop once it broke the waves, I suppose. What that means is, where the water meets the land, it does so violently. This has been a brutal conflict, as one can see from the many boulders torn from the island's side, lying unmoving in the water, but even now fighting against the breaking advance. In other words: if you get in the ocean, it means either jumping off a cliff, or scrambling over slick, sharp rocks. Once you do get into the water, the ocean will simply slap you, hard, until you have helped to break down one more rock. It is not expected you will be of much help, or that you will survive the process, but the ocean does not care; it is tireless in the pursuit of victory. It's just too bad you won't be around to see it, or, even if you were, there wouldn't be any land left on which to stand.

So the ideal beach that springs to mind, long, sandy, with nice regular waves, no horrific undertow, not too crowded, and lots of sun, undoubtedly does exist; I have seen it. It is just not a Taiwan beach.
But there is one that's not too bad, not far from here. So we went there. And it was nice. Fortunately, it was raining, or it would've been crowded. And I got to take pictures of pillboxes, which is something I always felt cheated of doing on other beaches.

So I'll post those pictures. In the next few days, likely.


I think I should write about things you should know before you come here since, in fact, a very few of you are coming here soon. And the rest of you can just get a nice idea of how this place is different. But I won't do it today; it would be an extremely long post. So for right now, I think I'm going to say goodbye. Well, write it, anyway.

Something I've had on my back

Sorry to interrupt the regular silence, but I have something to tell you! Lots of things, actually, but not so much time.

For about a month or so, I was extremely ill. Before that I'd only been kind of sick for about a month or two. You see, I had something on my back.

Literally.

A year or two ago, I noticed a lump on my back. It appeared, but then didn't get any bigger, so I figured I'd ignore it. I pointed it out to the doctor who screened me at UGA before I came here, but she wasn't concerned, either. So I mostly forgot it.

Sometime in late February or early March, I noticed it was growing again. And it hurt. And it was red, and hot. I figured that wasn't good. Also, I started feeling weak and tired. After a few day of ignoring it, during which it unexpectedly (but predictably) did not get better, I went to the doctor. He asked, among other things, if I had a fever. I said I didn't think so (both I and 家寧 had been feeling my forehead for just that reason, and it seemed normal). He had the nurse check.
It was 38.4 C, which at first did not concern me, until I saw everyone's worried expressions and did the math...that's 101 F. I'd probably been running that for a while.
They started me on antibiotics.

After those ran out, I thought I was feeling a lot better, so I didn't go back.
Stupid.

After a few days, I felt like crap. I was running a fever. I went to the doctor, he was upset that I hadn't come back right away (though he'd never mentioned it and talked like I only needed the one week). He started me on another round of antibiotics.

That was on a Wednesday or Thursday, I think. Friday of that week, I started getting tiny little red dots everywhere. I ignored it at first, because I'd gotten extremely hot during the night (I was alternately freezing cold or boiling hot for almost the entire month or two), and thought they might be caused by heat. In the back of my mind, though, I worried that they might be a reaction to the antibiotic.

And I was right! I was now allergic to that particular antibiotic. I noticed that because the next day, the red spots were big, tall, and red and angry-looking. It's good to watch out when you've got spots like that, just the same as people who can be described that way. I can't remember if I ignored them one more day or not, as I intended to go back to the school doctor when he reopened; whatever the case, 家寧 persuaded me that that was a bad idea, and that we should go to the hospital right away. Unfortunately, that meant going to the emergency room.
We waited there a long time. When the dermatologist finally saw me (a specialist! not a general doctor!), she was extremely concerned, and gave me all sorts of medicine, and of course a different antibiotic. I think I was taking five different kinds of pills every day. I felt like an old man. I probably looked like one, too, as bad a shape as I was in.

The awesome part? Going to the emergency room cost me about $15 US, since I have the national insurance here.

The spots cleared up fairly soon, and my medicine ran out. I think I ran a fever again, and went back to the school doctor. He gave me more medicine. I went back to the hospital, and the dermatologist there said we should take out this cyst, or tumor, or whatever it was, but first we'd have to get rid of the infection.

Sometime later, possibly only a week, I woke up on a Monday morning. That is normal. The unusual thing, though, was that my throat hurt obscenely, and I could barely speak. I went to class anyway.

The next day was worse. I thought I had a fever again. I went to the doctor, and he said it was 38.5 C or so. Unfortunately, 家寧 had to work then, and go to her class, and I wasn't able to speak anymore. I was able to gesture and whisper, though, so the doctor and I communicated alright. They literally scraped my tonsils. Then I got more medicine.

The next day I had an appointment at the hospital with another dermatologist. 家寧 again couldn't come; we figured I'd probably be alright, as there were several things she had to do for school/work, and it was just a regular visit to the doctor. Oh, also, I still couldn't really talk, and my fever was still high.
The doctor looked at my back, then said, "show me where the tumor is". By this point it had gone down, true, but that was not what I wanted to hear from a professional. Then she said, "would you like to take it out?" I said yes.

I just didn't know she meant right then. I'd explained about having a fever and all, but I guess she wasn't worried about it.

The doctor doing the procedure worried me, too...she also asked me to point out the tumor, and spent a good five minutes poking around my back. There was a point when she said she couldn't find it. With my help, though, she finally managed, I got a local anesthetic, and then she cut me open.

That may be one of the worst ways to have surgery done. If it was a spot I could see, it wouldn't be so bad. In fact, I'd kind of enjoy it, since I'd get to see what they were doing, and how to do it. But when you're numb, and can't see what's going on, you can just vaguely feel your skin being tugged at - there is no way to know how much is being cut, how long, how deep, or how skillfully. All you can feel is the tugging your skin. Like an animal being skinned. And then there was the smell of blood - weak at first, but ever stronger. That, together with my unease over the doctor's troubles finding the thing, made me uncharacteristically nervous.

The doctor spoke with me, though, and after a while she said there was a lot of almost necrotic tissue where the infection had been. She scraped it out. After about 15-20 minutes, she finally was able to find and remove the troublesome tissue - she said it'd mostly collapsed. I even got to look at it! It was like a chunk of fat off a hunk of meat (which I suppose it was) - wiggly and white and stringy. It was about the size of a pinkie nail, attached by a string of tissue to another about half that size. She sewed me back up, and said I should come back in two weeks to have the stitches out.

I got a taxi, limped home, and immediately fell asleep. I slept at least 3-4 hours. And when I woke up, I felt better than I had in months. And the next day, my throat didn't hurt anymore! In fact, I felt almost normal!

It was great. Of course the stitches needed to come out after only one week, not two, and 家寧 wasn't willing to cut them, so I went to the school doctor. He was surprised and initially unwilling, but he helped us in the end.

Everything turned out fine - in fact, I went last Wednesday for the follow-up where they were supposed to take my stitches out, and learned that it was, in fact, a benign tumor. Hardly, of course, to make an old joke, but much better than real cancer.

I'm not sure what I enjoy most about having that thing out, besides feeling healthy again - being able to swim, or being able to lean back (and sleep on my back). It's kind of a pain not being able to properly sit in chairs for a few months.


Anyway, I wasn't feeling very well, or very energetic, for quite a while there, and that's a lot of the reason I wasn't writing. But things are better now! So much better that I'll be busy probably all the time! (I missed quite a few classes...but in better news, in the last three days, I have gone karaoke-ing, and then to the beach and some hot springs with 家寧! So I'm busy.)

So, I hope you're all well, and I'll try to keep you better informed from now on. 再見! (zai4jian4, in case you're curious, is "see you again", which, considering neither of us can "see", may not be totally appropriate, but I don't feel like thinking up an alternative right now)



P.S. - I started another blog where I don't actually write! (much) - I just post interesting links and briefly describe them. It updates a little more often since it takes almost no effort. It's here - http://thrownupon.blogspot.com/

P.P.S. - the medical system here is really pretty good. If you have to get sick, do it here! Doctors work fairly cheap, and most things are pretty modern.

What's going on?

Right now, I'm not sure if it's really hot or really cold. That is because I am fairly sick and feverish. It's a little hard to concentrate.
Anyway, though, I posted some more photos from my trip!...two months ago. Heh. Also, Cathye, (well, and anyone else who'd like...), you can find photos of that certain someone if you look here.

I think that's it for now.

After that...

I have to apologize. It must seem like I've dropped off the face of the Earth. Some of you have been wondering what's happened to me. Heh. Well, I've been...busy, I guess. I have no idea where the time is going, but I hope I'll be able to recover some of it, sometime. (Oh, a subtle, and bad, pun!)
Though I don't know where the time is going, I do know how it's being used. I am trying to spend my every instant with 家寧. When I go home, she is not coming with me. We hope that we both can graduate quickly, and see each other again, but...that's a year apart, at the least.

I hope you'll forgive my neglect of everyone, and everything, else.

Last time I posted, I ended with the TA inviting me to coffee.


So, we went to coffee.

She led me off campus, and I thought we were going to the first shop I saw - a chain called Dante's. But we kept walking.

We ended up not far away, at a nicer place, highly decorated, especially with wine bottles, called Cafe Bastille. We drank tea and coffee, talking for hours, and by the end I was certain that she'd never want to see me again. I had been unexpectedly honest and forthright with her, and I know I'm sort of a loser. Heheh. Also, fairly early on, she mentioned that she already had a boyfriend.
She was fun to talk to, though.

At some point she mentioned a book club on campus - she asked if I'd like to join it. Of course I said yes. Though the books were in English, the discussions were in Chinese; I thought I'd go once or twice anyway just to see what it was like.


After a few hours, we parted, and I thought that though I'd probably see her in class again (she is the TA), I didn't expect the two of us would talk alone again.

And I was right.

For a few weeks.


Her name was 家寧.

How we met, and what happened then

Originally, I was going to write a monstrous post. It was going to talk about my trip to Hualian and then, it was going to talk about how I met Jianing. The two things are related. But then I realized it'd be easier for everyone, myself included, if I just wrote a little about how she and I met. I hope this might satisfy your curiosity.

So - from the beginning.

I came to NTU with no friends, and no idea what I was doing. I also came last thing at night, and caused plenty of trouble for myself and everyone trying to help me. The next day, my roommate and his volunteer were going to get him a phone and see the Taipei 101; they invited me along. My volunteer was busy, I had nothing else to do, I needed a phone, and they seemed nice, so I gladly accompanied them.

My roommate's (Halmer's) volunteer was extremely nice. We kept going places and doing things together. She's studying philosophy, but thinking about switching to business; she's also very intelligent and had good English. There was plenty to like about her.
After we'd gone a few places, just she and I, I decided I'd ask if she'd like to go on a date.

By e-mail.

She said no.

Since I am not one to give up, I asked her again, and said one date's all I was asking for; if it didn't go well, we could just forget it. She said, "let's be friends." I said date or nothing. She chose nothing. Heheh.

As you can imagine, I was slightly bummed. I hadn't been hanging around anyone else very much, so I didn't really have any other friends at the time. And it was my birthday.

I was kind of mopey. I didn't go out much. I was, sadly, acting like a loser. And, because I was feeling down, I thought maybe I wouldn't even sign up for any other classes, just stick to Chinese. Or more like, I hardly wanted to leave my room to go to the other classes.

Of all things, though, there was a class on Shakespeare. Taught in English. That intrigued me, so I decided I'd go.

But nothing is ever easy. The online course selector thing doesn't really tell where your classes are, except in Chinese, and then not always. So I didn't know where the class was. I wandered through several buildings, and was starting to think I wouldn't find it at all when suddenly, someone smacked me in the back and started yelling.

It was Toby. Toby is German. He was also my classmate in Chinese. He is extremely, extremely boisterous. Many people do not particularly like him. They have their reasons - for example, after being here a grand total of one month, he got in an argument with the entire school newspaper staff, because he knew better than them what relationships were like in Taiwan. Then he wrote an article about it in their paper. No one was convinced.
But at that time, I was glad to see him, because he was looking for the same class! So we wandered around together.

But it didn't help. Neither of us could find it.

And just when we were thinking of leaving, he bumped into a girl. She was looking for the same class! Fortunately, she spoke Chinese, and was able to ask where it was. The three of us were in the wrong building, it turns out.
We made our way to the right classroom, and were only about an hour late. (That girl only came that one time - she went back to America or something after that - she was just there to see a friend).


Since I was in Taiwan, and this was a class on Shakespeare, in English, I expected no one would show up.
Roughly 80 people crammed into one room proved me wrong. In fact, the Professor said there was no more room in the class for any students (the limit was 30, I think), but also said that if we would come back the next week, a few slots might possibly be open from students dropping.

The next week, I almost considered not going back. But I did. And it was indeed emptier, though not by much.

Toby sat in the front row, right next to the TA. Toby is a shameless flirt. In fact, Toby is just shameless. It is impossible to embarrass, fluster, or discourage him in any way. He is very lively, not very perceptive, does not pay attention to anything, nor is he ever serious, except when someone expresses doubt in his opinions.
I thought to myself, "no! Please, please, sit anywhere but there - sit next to anyone else!" I wasn't entirely clear why I thought that at the time, though mostly it was because I didn't want anyone getting a terrible first impression of foreigners through him. I was embarrassed, because of him, to be a foreigner.

The TA began ignoring him after just a few minutes; he didn't shut up during class, which evidently annoyed her. My opinion of the girl went up immensely. He tried a few more times to chat her up, but she seemed happy to politely blow him off.

After class, I came to the front to have the professor sign my registration sheet - I had to register manually, since I couldn't do it online, and because it was already full. He was nice enough to let me into the class. Right after that, the TA introduced herself, and asked a few questions about me. I told her all the usual stuff, then explained I was taking a Shakespeare course in Taiwan basically because I was bored and liked Shakespeare. I think I also mentioned that I liked writing and reading. We talked a little more, then she suddenly asked if I'd like to meet for coffee.

I immediately agreed.

Trip to hualien, part 2

So, this didn't come within "the week". It came not within a week, either. But it was close.

As I was about to say, and then got sidetracked for better than a week, I planned to leave for Hualien on that Thursday morning.

Wednesday night, I was goofing around. I had not done laundry or packed. This is typical. While I was wasting time, 家寧 called (Jianing, in case you've forgotten the characters).

We talk every night, so that wasn't surprising. What was a bit unexpected, though, is that she said on Thursday that her sister was going "mountain-climbing". Actually, that wasn't surprising, either. Nor was the fact that she was going with her ex-boyfriend. Nor the fact that her gay roommate and his boyfriend were coming as well.... I should probably tell you, 家寧's sister, Jessy, broke up with her boyfriend (or did he break up with her? I think so, but it's very unclear) because of this gay roommate. Her boyfriend believed, and still does, apparently, that this gay guy is not gay at all, and so he broke up with Jessy. They've not been dating for a while, but they still hang out, and he still stops by their house. So Jessy thought maybe if her ex-boyfriend saw her roommate with his boyfriend then maybe her ex would figure things out.
家寧 and I believe he's just playing dumb as some sort of control game. Or something.
Enough of other people's business, though.
What was surprising was that, though 家寧 herself had helped me buy tickets and pick a time to go, she was now asking if I'd like to go mountain climbing with her and this group, instead.
Of course I said yes.

We met early the next morning; early enough to go to the train station and change my ticket. After that, we made our way to the park, and got there around 9 or so. The gay guy and his boyfriend didn't show up. I forget why. So it was 家寧, myself, Jessy, and her ex.
Oh, and like I just said, we met at a park. Not a mountain. We did not go mountain climbing.
There was a good-sized hill, though, next to this park, and we did walk up that. It was steep, and it was pretty. And at the top, there were old people.

Something I need to explain about Taiwan: the old people here have often led difficult lives, have nothing much to do, and nowhere really to go, and I think it's made them all a bit nuts.
So there're a bunch of old people in odd places, trying to stay busy. Generally, they do Taichi (太極拳), except most of them don't appear to know Taichi. They haphazardly flap their limbs and/or hop. It's almost funny, except for the serious and precise manner in which they carry out their 'exercise'. They've perfected the "old people stare", which they level at any who dare watch, as if to say, "I am old. I have earned the right to do whatever the hell I want. You will not only respect that, you will admire it. Then you will thank me. Maybe, if you are able to stop being worthless for more than a few minutes, you might live as long as me and also have this right. But I will be dead long, long, long before that happens, and honestly, you can't do shit to me after I'm dead." And they will glower at you, pointedly, for so long as you are there, while never missing one of their inexplicably irregular but precise flapping motions.

The top of the hill was covered by a small congregation of old people doing the old people thing. They sometimes enjoy seeing young couples but more often do not. And the old men especially dislike seeing a young couple consisting of one foreign guy and anyone/anything else. We attracted some attention.

The day was warm, the air was clear, the lake was cool and still, and the wind blew gently.

But nothing much happened. We all sat separately at the top for an hour or two, talked, and then made our way down. The ex didn't seem to want anything to do with anyone besides Jessy. We originally were going to eat lunch together, but then this guy decided he wouldn't come with us. And Jessy said she had to meet with the gay guy's mother (she used to think Jessy was going to be her future daughter-in-law - they got close over time, and still are on good terms). It wasn't until later that I learned the ex didn't like "pda"s (public displays of affection, if you didn't recently attend high school in America). We had shown our extreme passions by - I hope I will not offend my more sensitive readers - holding hands. He found that inappropriate.

Anyway, 家寧 said she knew of this restaurant nearby that was good, so we went, and indeed it was. It had Thai food. While we were there, she broke out the Valentine's chocolate I'd bought for her, and she insisted that we had to share it, because she couldn't afford to eat it all herself. I did my best to persuade her otherwise, but I lost. It looked like good chocolate, so losing was a winning proposition.
And it was.

The day was shaping up to be a pretty good one.

Afterwards, 家寧 said there was an orange grove nearby, where we could pick as many oranges as we liked and eat them on the spot. If you want to bring any home, though, you have to pay. That sounded nice, and it was a pleasant walk through a rural area. Through - and I have been waiting to use this word for years - a dell, alongside a small, swift stream.

A half hour or more of extreme leisure went by. And then, much to everyone's shock, not ten feet in front of us, coming down the path, were her parents.

Back, but not home

It's been a while, hasn't it? I should write about myself, and what I'm doing. There are a lot of things I could cover, but some are complicated, and will take time.

Interesting things have happened. For example, I took a trip, alone, last weekend, in which I decided I knew how to ride a scooter and then proved myself right. I was glad of that. Dying on a scooter would be embarrassing.
I've got pictures of that I'll upload later. There were other trips, and more interesting ones, before, but I was alone on this one, and must write it down soon, or forever forget some details.

Alright - to make a long story short - I am dating 家寧. That's awesome, because she's awesome. However, for other reasons that also take more explanation, I was not able to spend this last weekend with her. She had family obligations. So, I was thinking of taking a trip anyway, and with her convincing, I actually managed to go.


At first, I was thinking of trying out paragliding. Flight is appealing, especially in a country where it's cheap to learn. However, according to the site Wings Taiwan, this is not an especially good place to learn. Most trainers are not qualified, and most sites are somewhat...unsuitable. Ordinarily one learns to paraglide by taking little hops down pleasant, grassy, rolling hills, gliding further and further each time, until one is comfortable and experienced. In Taiwan, someone with a healthy disrespect for life, safety, and more or less everything else but money, will 'train' you...and in the most suitable location, that means being shoved down a hill into some trees. In the less suitable ones, it means being shoved down a hill into some trees, powerlines, and possibly a farmer's explosive booby-trap. Heh.
I e-mailed the guy who runs the site. He recommended Bali for learning paragliding. Unfortunately, Bali is some distance away, and only marginally cheaper than learning back in America. I really do want to see Bali, and I really do want to learn this. However, I also really do want to retain the option of eating for the next few months, something I would have to forgo if I were to take such a trip. Yup.

Next, my idea for a trip was to go to Kending (墾丁). It's the tropical area of Taiwan, and it's got lots of nice beaches, surfing, snorkeling, scuba diving, national parks, etc. However, I was informed that Chinese New Year is about the busiest time one could go there. So I figured I'd do it later.

So I decided on Hualien (花蓮). Everyone says the scenery is pretty. It's got hot springs nearby. And there aren't many people. So that was that. I went with 家寧 on Wednesday morning to get my ticket, and planned to leave on the 10:00 train Thursday morning. Notice I said planned. (That's called foreshadowing, by us fancy, educated folks.) I would stay until Sunday or Monday, as I didn't have much to do in the immediate future.

But the rest will have to wait! There will be pictures with that. It will come soon. And I don't mean soon in God's time, geological time, or my time - I mean, like, within the week. Heh...see you then!

more bumps

I got up from my chair. My head hurt, of course. My stomach was empty, but all I could find was a bag of oatmeal. It's all there was. I should've known, but couldn't remember, why it was just the bag. There was no label. There were also no ants, so I was happy enough. I couldn't remember if it was instant or not, so I ate it dry.

I vaguely remembered being rejected, again. I'm getting good at that. Vaguely remembering. I don't need to practice getting rejected: I seem to have an innate skill.

Ah, paper's the same as always. Bad news from around the world. I'm all for globalization, but...sometimes it makes me feel like God. Aware of all the bad things all at once. It must've been nice before. Back then, a million people could die, but you'd never know. Life was better. Except if you were dead. And lots of people were.

Hmm. Another heartrending piece about fatherless families and the lost potential of young soldiers. Neighbors killing neighbors. The blind killing the weak. Shame.

I passed by the phone, and noticed there was a message on it. No new messages, but more messages than I had before....
Oh yeah! Last night.

"Dr. Livingstone, I presume? Haha. An harmless joke for a very lost man." The guy's accent was a little strange - I couldn't tell where he was from, though it sounded a bit foreign.
"If you don't mind, I will call you Dr. Livingstone. You are a doctor of sorts, and all doctors are explorers - of knowledge, anyway." He spoke very evenly, clearly, and moderately. His was a very professional voice - smooth and polished, like an upscale sportscar. I wondered if it was possible to take it for a joyride. When he was a broken-hinge-voiced teen, that's probably what it sounded like. Joyridden.

"But that's not why I'm calling. You have a very interesting idea, even if your choice of venue was a bit unusual. We request that you find time to meet us; if you consent, and we think you have reason to do so, please come to the main library's parking garage at 2 tomorrow afternoon. You will be compensated, as is usual. If you are unable to meet tomorrow, a meeting can still be arranged - though the process will need to start again. This number will remain active until 5 o'clock tomorrow. Good day, Doctor."

That was one of the stranger messages I'd ever received.

Bumps in the road

I have to admit I'm excited about this meeting. That's unusual, of course. Usually you just practice saying yes, though sometimes to beat boredom I try saying yes in new and equally boring ways. Or I stay quiet. Or at worst stay awake; saying no is just not a good idea. Last time I said no was the last time I had a decent job. This, though, will be no office meeting. It's better. I think.
It's - well, a little frightening, too. I'm not sure quite what they want from me. Or exactly who 'they' are.

It started serendipitously, as you'd have to expect. I haven't ever done this sort of thing before. I don't know anyone who has - well, that I know of. I'm starting to get suspicious now. After all, this had to start somehow. Someone I've met must be involved already.

I was at a party. Nothing special. Just a party. The kind that has a fair number of people, and an unfair amount of alcohol. The kind where not everyone can drink to their heart's content (or liver's discomfort, if you prefer). It was upscale, and I ordinarily wouldn't have been there for that fact alone, but I've reconnected with a few old friends recently. And the women at these things tend to be a lot smarter, or at least better educated. Sure, in the long run they might be quarrelsome, but they do know how to talk. And I like talking. Which was, after probably a few too many drinks, what I was doing. Loudly.

Of course it was politics. No one wants to talk about anything else anymore. Well, I guess there's always music, too, but it's just as bad. I like not insulting people, so I don't have any particular politics of my own; just whatever keeps the world running well enough. I like to call it vehicular politics. You don't need to change the oil every 1,000 miles, or use special blends, or special gas, or check out every little ding and squeak and squeal. Nah - so long as it keeps running well enough, that's good. Same with the world. It'd be better, maybe, if we did all those other fancy things that could be done, but no one's serious about doing them. The few who are are crazy. Things usually work out. And - I always have to smirk a little when I say this - it gets us where we're going anyway, right?
In fact, it gets us where we're going faster if it's not working right. Heheh.

So I was talking about my vehicular politics. I was resolving some little political trifle or other, probably the economy, when some wit suddenly turned to me and said, "Hinayana or Mahayana?" I scowled at him - I always scowl by default when I'm confused, fortunately people usually take it as displeasure - but then I said it'd have to be Mahayana, since it gets us all where we're going well enough, and it must therefore be quite large. Then I added, "and isn't 'lesser-vehicle' insulting to non-Mahanayas?" Spineless, PC bastard that he was, that shut him up, and I'm glad, because I don't really know much more than that. Funny how political correctness defines what people know and say. But it has its uses. Like shutting that guy up.

Anyway, someone else then added, "while we're on the subject of vehicles, how about oil? And Iraq? How shall we navigate that mess without getting our car bombed?" She smiled hugely, like her teeth were thinking of leaving her body to make their own republic (probably they'd call it Teethistan), as though she thought that was a very clever thing to say. Another added, "or sick?" He looked around, disappointed and a little sheepish, "you know, carsick?"

Early in the evening I'd realized that I stopped talking to these high-school 'friends' for a reason. But I figured now that I was here, I might as well try to impress people. For that question, however, I think I may have an answer. I didn't flounder like the asker was probably expecting. I hate floundering. And flounders. I hate that word. Bottom-dwelling, lopsided fish. It's not even symmetrical.
Anyway, I have a solution, and I think it'll work. It's partly based on the Malay Emergency, and actions of the British Army in putting that down, and partly also on a...well, somewhat anachronistic view of the world and human rights. Plus a big healthy dose of realism. Unlike some people, I believe the job of soldiers is to shoot people, not stand in the dirt waiting to get shot. They exist solely to make other people do things they really don't want to do. I doubt extra guys with guns standing in the dirt for a couple weeks, trying to act polite and respectful of local traditions and customs, will be stopping any wars anytime soon. This problem was at least fifty years in the making, if not centuries. Everything so far has failed, so I say it's time for something new.

I won't bore you with details yet, but I told them all about that. I got a bit carried away: I was describing some of the worse things I'd learned from reading. I tried to keep it light, but that comes across as gruesome sometimes when you're talking about dark issues - I was telling them how many thousands or millions I expected to die, and from what. I guess just for shock value I told 'em some stuff I'd read in the newspapers, you know, some of those heart-rending stories journalists do. If I was talking to soldiers, or other realistic people, it probably would've been fine, but these were party people and intellectuals. Neither had ever seen anything real. Even as inebriated as I was, I could see they were uncomfortable with me. They'd rather not think too hard about what it takes to make a decent world.

I'm pretty sure it's been said before, and better, but partiers get away by drinking. The ones who have opinions don't get them on their own. They borrow thoughts from the angry musician of the moment. Whichever furiously delusional middle-class punk is hot at the moment, that's the party people's political voice. Intellectuals aren't much better. They act like they do care, but they get away by getting close - through a pinhole. Imagine a room full of people, and they're all holding newspapers. Each person's newspaper has one tiny hole in the fold, and these people spend all their time looking through it. They can't see much of anything; most of the time they only see empty space, or someone's shoe, or a patch of carpet - they have to ask someone else where to look, and even then they hardly see anything, but they study that patch of view like it was God's own face, and they tell the rest of us what the world is like. It's like Alice through the Pinhole, the things they tell us. They're all afraid of the world. That's why I'm sure that's been said before - people never change.

So, isolated and awkwardly alone, I decided to make my exit. Granted, several of the people who'd heard me seemed interested in what I had to say, but once their friends and spouses started looking edgy, they backed away, too. I heard one woman, one of my old high school acquaintances, actually, and back then always very open-minded, muttering something about treason. "Well," I thought to that, "free thought might be dead. Better get some free food."

I scored a few mouthfuls of those pretzels and m&ms that inevitably fall into every living-room couch at every party, some diced fruits, an especially salty little meat-cracker thing, and a couple oranges. I was glad I wouldn't need to buy dinner. Money has been a little tight lately.

Before I left, I noticed the wine bottle, and the punch bowl. I'd really been expecting things to go better than they did. I thought people cared about this stuff. Soldiers getting blown up. New wives and little babies, whose man is never coming back. All the people over there, the way they suffer. Killed just for being born in the wrong place, to the wrong family. So I see these protesters and whoever, and they go and have marches and rallies and scream a lot, but give 'em a solution, and they act like they'd rather not know you. I had a few more drinks. And maybe a few more after that. My idea really was good. I wish they'd at least think about it.

It took a while to get home. I might have been driving drunk. The trip home was long and hazy, and I didn't get there until very late. And when I went inside, there was a message on my machine. I wondered why they hadn't just called my cell. Maybe it was the people from the party. Maybe they didn't actually want to talk to me, but just pretend to care by leaving a message. I was tired. So I hit play, sat down, and ...fell asleep.

O?

"I can't make it today." I wondered if he'd believe me. My voice was shaking.
"Oh. Alright then, guess I'll see you later." I'm sure he didn't really believe that. He didn't seem convinced we'd meet again. We hadn't for a while.

I can't make it today, because...I have to pet the cat.
No! It's not an excuse, or I would have said it! I would say that to someone I never wanted to see again, and...I do care about my friends. But they have to understand - priorities are priorities. If they were in my shoes, I'd want them to do the same. But they aren't, and they couldn't. Anyone could do what I'm doing, but no one else can do it right.

This started a few weeks ago. I noticed, on my daily walk, that the air didn't seem right. It seemed...fuzzy, almost. And lots of people were sick. Everything buzzed, and my ears never had any rest. I couldn't sleep. I think there was an earthquake, too. But what could I do? That's the way of the world.

I've been going to these classes, you know, to improve myself. To gain 'higher understanding' and 'self-enlightenment' and good health and all that. It seems like a good idea; I know this one guy, Barry, and he lost a lot of weight, got promoted, things like that; it's really helped him out. So I thought I'd do the same, except I'm not going where he's going - I don't want to look like a follower. No! "We all must act like leaders, and then we will be leaders!" I learned that in class.

So my teacher was talking about the AUM yesterday. He says it's this sound that the universe and everything is made out of. It's a vibration! And anyone can make it. It's pretty neat, I guess. We practiced for a while.

I didn't realize until later, but, after we chanted, the world seemed less fuzzy. It wasn't shaking so much.
Actually I didn't notice until I got home. My cat was sitting on my favorite chair again, since it is his favorite too. I don't like to make him move, so I pet him until he gets so happy he has to get up. It's pretty clever. He always falls for it. Anyway, while I was petting him, he started purring like always.
But it was the AUM! I know it.
Yes, while I was petting him, the world became peaceful, and the fuzziness was almost gone. Oh great hairy vibration-machine!
So I sat in my chair, petting my cat all evening. I was creating world peace!

In the nighttime, no one petted the cat, so he wasn't purring when I woke up. That's pretty normal, except the shaking had gotten much worse, and that wasn't normal. I was afraid the roof would fall on me. I could hardly get out of bed. Someone wasn't doing their job! I decided then it was because not enough people were saying AUM.
Luckily for me, my cat always jumps onto my bed when I wake up. He's happy to see me, and so I always pet him. I did the same thing as always, and the shaking stopped!

That's when I realized that cats make the AUM when they purr. I'm pretty sure it's just because of them that the world doesn't shake itself apart, because I know people are pretty lazy and they don't say it much.
I'm kind of worried. I think if I stop petting my cat, things are going to get bad.

I tried calling my best friend, 'cause he has a cat, and I tried telling him to pet it, but he was at work. He said it was pretty strange I wanted him to do that.

Actually, I'm getting really worried. I didn't say it before, but my cat seems bored. I think he doesn't want to purr anymore. He keeps wiggling.
Oh no! His tail is twitching! And he isn't purring at all! Things are getting fuzzy again...

"Ow! Stupid cat! You were saving the universe! Why did you have to claw me?" I'm gonna run after it. I have to catch it. It's my cat, and he's going to have to save the world whether he likes it or not. I can't believe how selfish cats are.

"Hey! Come back!" It got outside. I caught it, but it scratched me a lot. I don't think that's very fair. I dropped it cause it tore my shirt up pretty good, and now I'm bleeding a little. It hurts. It's hard to chase cats when everything is shaky.

My yard is empty. My street is empty. The whole neighborhood is empty. My cat is gone. I'm worried that bad things are going to happen - really bad things. I can hear buzzing again.
- wait. I think I see....
Yes! It's a cat! Not mine, but it'll do!

Just have to sneak up on it...it's a nice kitty...
"Haah! Gotcha!" Ow! OW! Crap. I forgot they have claws, again.
Alright, it didn't run too far.

It got away again.

"Haah! Gotcha!" Alright, it's really angry, but I got its legs this time. I'll just pet it until it starts purring, and everything will be right again. I think I felt an earthquake.

This isn't working. Ok, I think I know where to pet it that'll make it happy...

My neighbor? Wait, with a -
"Get the hell off my lawn! I don't want to know what you're doing with my cat." He cocks his shotgun. "But you're done now. You're gonna leave it alone. Or else."

"Oh crap oh sorry sir i'm just trying to save the world since you have to pet cats and the vibrations keep everything good and it wouldn't purr and my -"
"NOW! LEAVE!" He swings the barrel my direction.

I'm laying on the lawn. I think I fell. The cat is gone. My neighbor is purple, almost.
I think the world is shaking apart. I just can't stand up. Well, my legs are shaking pretty bad, too.

"It's not what it looks like! I was just trying to save the world!"
My neighbor only shakes his head. "That's what they said in the war, too."

Christmas Eve, part 2

Tomorrow strangely came a week late.

Alright, as I said: I was on my way to the party when I met the organizer. I don't remember his name at the moment, though I should: this was not our first meeting.

On the Friday before, I, Susan, and Bryan had been walking out of class, talking, and I'd noticed some foreign guy hanging around the gates. That is not unusual; however, I recognize most of the foreigners here at school - not him.
As the three of us were talking (Bryan and Susan were retrieving their bikes), he interrupted, coming from behind, and said he wanted to know if we'd like to go to a party with Free Food.
You know that stopped the conversation.

It turned out the others had already signed up, so they reconfirmed. He was pleased. He turned to me. I said I didn't know if I could make it (the plan was that I'd be at 家寧's house on Sunday), but that if I got back early, I'd try to come. Free food is free.
The group calls itself "the waiguorens" (外國人s - "foreign people" (I hate that unnecessary 's')) that meets every week, Sunday nights, and "studies Eastern philosophy" and practices Qigong (氣功 - of which taiji (太極拳)is a particular style). I decided free food trumped whatever misgivings I had - among other things, I automatically disliked the guy who was talking to us. He seemed pretty gay, for example (not necessarily enough to provoke my dislike, but he was a bit overly chatty and happy to see me), and one of those mush-headed "Eastern Wisdom" sorts.

He talked to me especially after the others left, and probably would have been glad to go on for some time, but I had to get going. I had important things, like sitting in my room, to do. I left. (I am not necessarily as cruel or deceitful as that - I really did have to prepare for my next class, which was coming up soon. But then again, I would try to portray myself in a positive light, wouldn't I?)

Friday night, though, I saw him again. As I entered the bookstore, I saw, back turned to me, a foreigner deep in conversation with two others. I guessed it was the him again, decided that was unlikely, then decided against my decision and decided it probably was him after all. I passed by without announcing myself (I tend to be somewhat invisible...heh...I know, I should be hard to miss, right? I'm tall, blond hair, blue-eyed, etc., but people really don't seem to notice me much most of the time.)
I pointed out this guy to 家寧 when I went to buy my book. I hoped he wouldn't reciprocate.
You might wonder why I seem to dislike him so much. It's that vacant, lost, neo-hippy gaze and gauzy, cottony thoughts that I can feel plugging his head - stray thoughts and sayings are trapped in the absorbent mess of his mind, where they lodge and solidify.
Well, if that's not enough, or if you wonder how I could possibly know that, then let's just agree there are people one might instinctively dislike at first glance.


He noticed me.
He wanted to talk again, but when he realized the girl beside me was a friend of mine, and not a random stranger, he seemed somewhat deflated. "Hah!", I thought. Still, he asked again if I'd come.

Alright. Long digression.

So, here I am, back at meeting him again the night of Christmas Eve. He seems surprised to see me, asks if I'm coming to the party, and I tell him I'm on my way there right now. So I walk with him and the four or so other people to the MRT station (MRT is yet another name for "subway", apparently), where we are to meet the rest of the group.

We wait; various others show up. Two of the more interesting ones: Merril (sp?) and Erin, whom I'm not sure, but, might be married (I forgot to ask, but I think they're only boyfriend and girlfriend). They're from Canada, real nice, came to Taiwan to teach; they wanted to get some traveling done, both recently graduated, would like to make some money and see the world on the cheap, maybe pick up a little Chinese. They just arrived a week or so before, so they'd be celebrating Christmas in a strange new country.

My classmates Phonshia, Susan, and Caroline showed up, and we talked (though it's difficult to talk to Susan - it seems like no matter what I say, it either comes across sounding dumb, or she just assumes it is dumb).

7:15, and we finally leave. We arrive very soon; it's just down the road. We turn into a perfectly ordinary looking apartment building, walk up to the second floor (and I worry that we're going to cram into some tiny apartment), and then discover there's a good-sized studio there. It's laid out something like a dance studio in the midst of a Buddhist temple.
We all take off our shoes, and, not long after I enter, my suspicions are confirmed: I overhear one of our organizers say to someone: "sorry, no pictures are allowed. This is a private space."

The only reasons I can think of:
1. Some of the stuff inside is very valuable; they don't want anyone outside to know it's there.
2. Some of the stuff inside is not actually theirs.
3. They don't want people to be self-conscious when practicing (it's pretty hard to look dignified when you're doing the exercises), though that's no reason to refrain from photo-taking at other times.
3. They are just damn weird.
Your guess is as good as mine, though I suspect it's a combination of 3 and 4.

There are, of course, no chairs.

Everyone sits around another twenty minutes in awkward conversation - and we all stick to our own little groups.
Finally someone gets on the mic (someone's got to keep the Irish down, right? pun!), and tells us the schedule. First: qigong exercises for 45 minutes, followed by 10 of meditation. Snacks. "It's a Wonderful Life." Then, finally, unashamedly and manipulatively last, a free turkey dinner.
(In this time: I said there are no chairs, but there are benches. The three girls were sitting on one, and, during the speech, a lady came to them and said, "you can't sit there, you're covering up the Buddha." It were true, if they were all four feet taller. There was a Buddha poster behind them. Honestly, I don't think Buddha cares about much of anything at this point, since he's not only dead but supposedly free from all concerns. Plus, intelligent policy would not put a bench in a room, at a convenient place, and then tell people they can't use it because some arbitrary item has it reserved. Hell, I'll start start carrying Buddha posters around so I can put them in seats everywhere. I'm hoping it'll seriously inconvenience overly-serious Buddhists.)

My classmates realize what this means: dinner is not until sometime after 9:00 at the earliest, and they have to work to get it. They are not dumb. Two of them have been sick all week, and still are, and have to make up a test the next morning - which they feel they haven't adequately prepared for.
They leave.

Fortunately for my story, I lack their common sense. Also, I was stubbornly resolved to get food. I don't mind a little weird exercise, either, so I stayed.

I don't feel like writing about the exercises; you can look those up on your own. They are a good leg workout, though.

Meditation time.
Everyone is slightly tired and warm from the exercise, and sitting down on a cushion, in a darkened room, sounds pretty appealing. At first they have everyone concentrate on breathing and sitting quietly, which is fairly relaxing, though the same could be said of most sorts of rest when your legs are tired and you're kind of hot.
After a while, once they're satisfied that some arbitrary goal has been reached (number of breaths? the time it takes a kitten to cross a street four times? pairs of shoes in the cupboard?), the lead guy asks us all to concentrate on an image. He asks us to imagine we are empty and clear, hollow, and that a single drop of water falls on the crowns of each of our heads. I enjoy the image of empty-headed people and their empty-headed followers, all that's left of them being flooded out by a single drop of water. I sit quietly in the dark with my smile all the same.
The drop is described slowly falling through different regions, including regions I'm pretty sure I lack (no, not a heart - chakra points and things); slowly, it is gone. Heh...but from whence does it exit? We are seated on our cushions with our legs crossed in front: the lowest point it could exit from is left to your imagination, but further amused me.

Then we repeated that.

It was already around 8:50 when we finished: something about tranquility and emptiness was spoken, and the peace of the Buddha, and then, jarringly, "MERRY CHRISTMAS!". Snacks were immediately available.

I was one of the first to the table (I know my priorities), and I enjoyed the spread. The banana bread (of which there were two kinds) was better than almost any I've ever had. Everything else was not quite its equal, but good. A fair number of m&ms disappeared in my vicinity, also. I had to consider the strangeness of the celebration: would Jesus recognize his own birthday?

I talked to more people: most were teachers. Merril and Erin made connections; Erin got a few good leads on jobs. The majority of the people seemed to enjoy themselves.

Most of these people were also weird. Sure, it takes one to know one and all that; I certainly have my own quirks. But not only I think so: my classmates had the good sense to notice immediately after arrival (and Bryan had the incredible precognition to not show up at all, though this might have had more to do with the fact that he probably slept through it).

Prime example: Fabio.
When I first heard it, I thought he was being mocked - but it is his name.
Let me tell you about Fabio. Fabio likes to sleep in the nude. Fabio does not like to shower...properly. Fabio does not like deodorant, Fabio does not approve of air-conditioning, and Fabio does not negotiate. Fabio, in September, went through five roommates. Fabio makes inappropriate and forward moves on girls he has just met, and that they do not want. Fabio is socially awkward, and Fabio does not 'play well with others'. Fabio does not talk to other males. Fabio also likes extremely tight pants, and Fabio is extremely, skeletally, thin. Fabio is also obsessively worried about wasting water, to the point that he often breaks shower knobs (and thus they leak, wasting more water than the drips he tried to save).

Thus is Fabio.

In the qigong session, Fabio demonstrates that he is familiar with taiji - by doing it while the rest of us are doing qigong. He also does it only with his legs: his arms are wrapped tightly around himself, as though he was hugging himself, or as though he were remembering the straigtjacket he might have worn only 50 years ago. This is accepted; some of the other obviously new people give him second glances and more space, but those who have been there longer accept him (even though this is his first time).


There is something wrong with the people who stay here a while to teach. Taiwan does something to them, and it had done it to many of these teachers. I'm not sure exactly what it is, but if you come here, you'll see it, too.

Anyway. I talk to a couple of girls; one is from Malaysia, the other from Indonesia (or I think that's right). They're fun to talk to, and fairly normal. The movie starts around 9:15, and I decide not to stay for dinner. I'd rather not eat that late, and I don't feel like watching "It's a Wonderful Life" again. I also don't especially want to hear Master Wang (or whatever his name was) talk, as I've been told he will.
So, knowing this, I fill up on snacks, and then leave. The two girls also leave, and we decide we'll go back to school together.

They have bicycles; I don't, and they want to ride. So they say we should ride together (everyone does here - half of all bikes have two riders). I'm concerned that I'll be too heavy, and so I offer to pedal.
I have not ridden a bicycle in something like 5 months, and then only briefly; before that, it'd probably been ten years. Also, the bike was sized for her (she was ordinary sized, maybe 5 foot or so).

The result was comical.
When there were not people in my way, I would push down on the pedal with my leg, as everyone does while riding. Unlike everyone else's, though, my bike lurched violently to one side or the other because of the imbalance - my legs stuck out several feet to each side. When there were people nearby, I nearly collapsed the bike on them.

heheh. The girl riding behind me (wasn't her name Vera?) kindly offered to take us the rest of the way home. I let her. I think it was difficult for her, but at least she only got a workout, and not bruises. Once we returned to school grounds, we parted ways, and I thought I might not see them again (but did a few days later).

That was one day. I even skipped some parts.
I didn't tell you about how I gave 家寧 the present, but that can wait until later; it was the next day.

Thank you again for reading, and I hope you don't mind the time distortion I seem to be suffering from! My next tomorrow shouldn't be so far from yours next time!

Happy new year!
(新年快樂!)

Christmas Eve

It's been a full day. Not that many days are half days...except perhaps the solstice. Which was recently - but not today. (Okay, so grant me this one pun - here the sun still shone for the majority of the day, I think).

I'm sure you're just dying to know the narrated details of my day. They would be long and tedious. As long and tedious as I am far from home. Heh. But, I have to do a little listing and narration.

First things first: I wake up around 11:50 - my phone is telling me I have a new message. I consider ignoring it - the message will still be there later - and I do for about ten minutes, but I can't get back to sleep. I think it might be 家寧. I'm right, too. She wants to meet - and when I text her back, I learn she wants to meet...now! So I hop in the shower, and out, thankfully getting clean in the process, and I'm on my way.

I meet her in the usual place, which for some reason I don't feel like disclosing. Maybe I'll keep it just between us.
It's a beautiful day, too.

Oh - I should digress for a minute.
On Friday night, we were near the zoo, right next to the river. We've been there before: it's very nice. We walked and talked for a bit, then decided to go back towards town to get some things - I was going to make chocolate chip cookies the next day (it's almost impossible to find them here, and everyone likes them.)
We found the ingredients (mostly), though it's surprisingly hard to find brown sugar. And they only had Hershey's chocolate chips, nothing else. We forgot the vanilla, but that's another story.
Anyway, she said she had to get something in the bookstore upstairs, PageOne (which is really nice, by the way), so we went there. Not that I minded at all. I started following her, but then she said what she was getting was "sort of embarrassing", and that she'd rather I didn't come with her. So, since I'm pretty dense sometimes, I had no idea what it might be; I looked at some other things, and what do you know - they had a sci-fi and fantasy section (none of the other stores have anything worth mentioning, except in this self-referencing aside). They had something I wanted, too - a book called "A Feast for Crows." It's part of this surprisingly good fantasy series (most fantasy is crap) that I like - and I've been waiting for this one for a while. The previous one was published in 2000. And the sequel was supposed to come out soon after. But then there were delays. A year went by. Another. Then another. And another. And another. In the fall of 2005, it was released, in hardcover of course. I wanted it. But, it cost nearly $30, so I didn't buy it. I thought the paperback would be out soon.
It was, geologically speaking. Nearly a full year later, it came out - at the end of September. And I was in Taiwan, and looked for it, but couldn't find it, and Amazon doesn't ship everywhere.
But there it was!

So 家寧 found me ogling this book. She'd already bought what she came for, so I bought what I hadn't knowingly came for, too. Then we left.

Alright, back to today.
So, she said she had something for me. Like I said, I can be pretty dense. I had no idea what it was. So she gave me my gift - and it was "Norwegian Wood". I hadn't read anything by this author, Haruki Murakami, until just a few weeks ago, when I read "Dance Dance Dance". It was by no means the best book I've ever read, but it was entertaining, interesting, and the guy is a good writer, even in translation. And strangely enough, the way he writes (and the type of character he writes) reminds me of me. Is it egotistical to enjoy that sort of thing?

Of course she'd bought it that night, without me ever realizing.

I was surprised, of course, and I'm happy to have it.
This also set me to the next part of my day.

After having my first meal (I hesitate to call it either breakfast or lunch), I decided I should get her something in return.
Actually, I'd already been planning that, but hadn't gotten around to it. I thought I'd do it on Sunday night (today), since I thought I wouldn't see her until Monday, but some school stuff brought her to campus, and she preemptively struck with gift-giving! I hated not having anything for her, and decided I must make up for it.

I headed for the Taipei 101 area.
I was walking past it when something caught my eye - the exhibition hall there had a jewelry/jade show. I figured I might as well have a look, so I did, and I took some pictures. I might post them later if any turned out well.
While I was walking around, I noticed a very attractive lady in a red dress (with a cape thing on the back that attaches to the sleeves - I have no idea what that's called), her back turned, talking to some guy in a goofy tux. They were there to promote jewelry, I suppose. I went back to looking at things, but when I started to move on, I came face-to-face with the lady...and though I can't say for sure how old she was, her face looked every bit her age. Heheh. She had to be at least 40. I intended to keep moving, and she said hi. So, since I usually do talk to people here if they make the effort to talk to me, and because it usually turns out somewhat strangely, I decided I might as well talk.
I expected she would try to promote her company. She did give me an advertisement, but she made a lot of small talk (asked where I was from, if I'd be around long, etc), and asked for my name, and my e-mail; not once did she mention her company. I figured, hey, why not, so I wrote them down on a paper. She actually didn't try to promote her company at all, so far as I can tell. Then she asked for my phone number. E-mails I can ignore (and do accidentally, as many of you are no doubt aware), but phone calls are harder. So I told her I didn't have a phone yet. She just kept smiling away the whole time, getting up close to me. Was I being hit on? I'm still not sure.

heh. Anyway, I went to the mall in the 101, got a gift (I won't say what right now, since a certain someone might, though it's not likely, read this before I can give it to her), and kind of wandered around for a while. I also managed to buy myself another book, since it looked interesting. I'll tell you if it turns out to be...heheh, assuming you want that sort of thing, but, I AM THE AUTHOR! I WRITE WHAT I WANT! (Though, unfortunately for all authors, and fortunately for you, your sanity, and your free time, only you choose what you'll read.)

Then I took pictures.

It was really crowded, too. I thought Christmas wasn't a big deal here, but, for reasons that I can only attribute to it being Christmas, there were hordes of people. Traffic was backed up down the road and out of sight when I arrived, since so many were trying to get parking. The cops directing traffic let as many cars go by as they could, but, as they did, throngs gathered, and you could see the numbers of the crowd were worrying them - many of the people wanting to cross the street were impatient. When everyone did finally cross, the intersection (this is a big intersection - at least six lanes of traffic in every direction), and the 10-20 feet in every direction from it, were covered.

So, after all that, I came back home. That took time, and I didn't get here until about 6:20. That would be fine, except there was a party at 7 I had decided on going to. I relaxed for about 15 minutes, talked to my classmate, Phonshia (I think that's how she spells her name...), and left. I met the organizer on my way there.

But this is already long enough - it will continue tomorrow!

We Need Discipline!

"We need discipline!", barked our crusty old sergeant. Stupid cracker, for sure. 'Course, dark as it was, he could've been a Jewish Eskimo, for all I could tell. He clearly enjoyed being our senior, but someone has to give orders; might as well be someone who likes it.
The darkness was overwhelming. So was the smell - so many of us packed into one small space.
"We must maintain our discipline! It is the only way we may arrive in one piece!" I couldn't see him, of course, couldn't see any of the others, since it was so dark, but there was no avoiding his presence. He owned our crowded space. It, and us, were his to command. No one would dare move against him.

"Now, I don't want to see any of you -" several of us snickered - "fall out, and by the way, you think that's funny? You think I wanna see you sorry bastards? I know some of you are falling to pieces already. I'd say you're a disgrace to your parents, but you probably don't have any. You're a disgrace to whatever assholes put you together, not to mention your country and this unit. God knows why I put up with you all. Flaky, the whole lot! Damn miracle we got this far."

I'm sure if he could have, he would have begun pacing. "Now, as I was saying, we must maintain our order, must not fall out of line, or else all is lost - if one falls out of place, we, as a unit, will crumble."

It's times like this I wonder about my life - it seems like all I can remember is being pushed this way and that, never really on my own. Well, I guess things haven't been so bad. We were all real soft before, real doughy, you know, but now we're hard. Real hard. I like that. I like feeling that way... but, it's like I've been on a conveyor belt, shoved into some damn box, and shipped off to who-the-hell knows where, for... no one seems to know. Maybe that crusty old bastard, maybe he knows, but he won't say. Special orders or something. That's how it always is.

Oh, I should mention the shaking. Yeah, none of us can see, and I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but I know for sure we're moving. There's a whole lotta shaking. Has been for a while. Not so much that I'm gonna fall to pieces or anything; hell no, I wouldn't give our sergeant that sort of satisfaction; but we are not exactly on a first-class type trip. So some of the guys are probably a little shook up. Yeah, I'm glad the old bastard up front can't hear that joke, he'd probably want to use it himself. heh. Bad enough I thought of it.

"Now, I know some of you are feeling a little shook up -",
"Fuck," I thought to myself -
"and I know you ain't never been away from home before -" I could feel his smile in the dark, when he made that damn joke - "bunch of softies, but we got picked. We're a special order, you know that? Not like the rest. No, we're made a little differently."
That was for sure - especially the guy behind me, who was way too damn happy to rub up against my backside. Well, I couldn't help but do the same to the guy in front, packed tight as we were, and what with all the shaking. Different for sure - like a whole bunch of queers, is what we were.

"It won't be long before -"
There was a horrible tearing sound. It came from - oh shit. There's daylight. Daylight is knifing its way in through the rip. Can't see a damn thing, but there's lots of yelling, and we're moving now.

- Think I heard sarge yelling.

- Can almost see something - wait, what the -

..giant hand?
crushing...damn strong. got me, now.
Tried getting away. Me and the others.

Oh God -

The heat...the heat...and the gnashing of teeth...it...can't be. They're...shit, oh shit, oh shit, they're all being crushed, I can hear them crunching, like bugs, like...bones?, into that gaping maw, into that...into the pit - "Into the darkness, where there will be much weeping and gnashing of teeth..." No! No! Never! I-!"



And then the boy finished his crackers. They were quite good. The way they crunched was especially delightful. And the wrapper! That salty, crackery smell! He felt as though he was in heaven. He hoped there would be more tomorrow.

Accidentally employed

(家寧, you knew I would have to write tonight, didn't you?)

Well, I have to say, many of you have taken the time to write to me; I have returned the favor by...reading your emails...and not writing. Sorry about that! But I'll start tonight.

I thought about writing on last weekend: I went to 家寧's house on Saturday. Her family taught me to make dumplings (水餃). They were really good, though mine were somewhat misshapen...they were lumpy and deformed, like the sorry result of a toxic waste dump/dumpling spawning ground. Everyone was very polite, and said they all looked the same when they're cooked, anyway, which has some truth to it. Dumplings are not exactly the prettiest food I can think of (they resemble shriveled, gluey giblets...), but there is a definite art to making them look better, which I have not yet mastered. We went for a little walk into the area of a former coal mine run, and abandoned, by the Japanese; in the evening, everyone made something for dinner. I made spaghetti my way, and it was good (heh - it's not just arrogance on my part - I wasn't the only one who liked it. I think everyone else had seconds, at least; then again, maybe they were just being hugely polite. Of course there were many other dishes there as well, and everyone ate until they had trouble moving. It was all good.). Overall it was a really good day. There are a few photos up on my site, but I don't really feel like writing about that (beyond what I just did). Not now, anyway.

I could write about my museum trip, too, and...maybe I will, later. It had its highlights - I'm just jotting that down so that I won't forget.


So, for today...
Did you know I accidentally got a job? Maybe you'd like to hear about that.

Well, here's how it happened:
Several days ago, my volunteer, Rae, called me and asked if I'd meet with her friend's foreign friend - she thought it might be good if I talked to him. So we all got together at a restaurant on campus, ate, talked, etc., and mostly enjoyed ourselves.
Of course, it turns out I already knew this guy - we have a class together, and he lives just across the hall and one door down. I suspected it'd be him.
But I won't get into all that! The important thing is, he somehow came across this lady who teaches a class on translating Japanese into English, or something like that. I'm not entirely clear. But, he didn't take the job, again for whatever reason. I told him I'd be interested - like I often say, I tend to have a lot of free time here. And I do have expenses.

So, the next day, he showed up at my door with the information I needed; I set out soon after to meet my potential employer...on maybe 4 hours of sleep, and with no preparation whatsoever. Heheh. Yes, I am truly a professional.

After a bit of looking, I came to the classroom. I had no other information on contacting this teacher, so I figured I'd just go there. I thought I'd be late, but I made it just as class was about to begin. Or, rather, just as every other class was about to begin. This particular one did not start until nearly fifteen minutes later, when the teacher finally arrived.

I briefly introduced myself and asked for a bit of clarification. Upon her finding that I was mostly free from visible defects, and that I was a native English-speaker, I was hired.
The job? It pays the equivalent of $15 an hour US - for four hours a month. Heheh. Still, it's something. So here's what I do - the class is mostly native Taiwanese, with a couple foreign students. The teacher wants them to work on their accents (and though she didn't say it, their diction, conjugation, and grammar, too); that's why I'm there. I supervise, answer questions, and troubleshoot the English language. heheh.

Taiwan constantly surprises me - it's good to be a foreigner. Because I've been here a while, I expected I might be hired when I showed up; that wasn't too shocking. I also expected to introduce myself and answer a few questions, and was not surprised by that, either.

The introduction went fairly well, though the end was sort of weak; anyway, the class seemed to mostly like it. Then it was time for the inevitable questioning. At first they were shy - they always are.
But questions soon started rolling in.
Like I said, my introduction went mostly well and likewise, the questioning did, too - I've been asked the same questions so many times I often have no need to think about my answers. There were more probing and in-depth questions than I'd been expecting, though - some of the people were actually paying quite a bit of attention (by some people I mean that the girls were quite attentive and responsive, while the guys seemed generally unimpressed and bored. heh. Well, it's fun watching the guys here - they always try to act unimpressed...just like guys, everywhere, now that I think about it, but I was always seeing the other side of it back home, when it was me and the others trying to figure out why all the ladies were so impressed with those stupid foreigners. So now I know both sides.). For example, one girl, with very good English (I later found out she'd lived in California a while), asked me a good one - she wanted to know what I liked about international affairs. Unfortunately for the coherency of my answer, she was pretty, and kept her eyes on me the whole time, doing that crazy eyelash flutter thing that girls do. So my thoughts were not exactly all going the same direction. But I was able to come up with some vague and indefinite answer about it being interesting to understand how the world is supposed to work, and to be able to occasionally predict world events. It might not have been totally satisfactory, I admit.

I mentioned being surprised. But I haven't said why, yet! It wasn't because of the attention I was getting (that actually happens a lot here); I was surprised the teacher let me stand up there so long. I mean, class started late, I showed up unannounced, and the teacher was willing to give me something like 10-15 minutes in front of the class. The lesson didn't get underway till the first period was half-over.

She had them sing a Japanese song, very famous, I understand, about cherry blossoms. Then she decided to make them do a skit or short presentation of their thoughts based on the song - in English, to which there was some groaning. But she said I'd help, and that seemed to relieve everyone.

I listened to all the groups, but one, and gave my advice. That one group didn't need my help - after all, it had another American in it. I get the feeling he isn't the most popular fellow, though - he seems like your typical anime/japanophile nerd, complete with apparently unimproved social skills; one Japanese exchange student was also in that group.
And I was impressed by the groups - sure, their grasp of English was occasionally shaky, but overall not bad - more than that, and more importantly, they were creative and funny. All of them came up with good skits. One, for example, had a loving couple sailing down the river in a boat, watching the cherry blossoms fall - a very romantic mood, to be sure, and a little poetic. However...the couple was a little drunk, the man started talking about a beautiful geisha, and it angered the woman so much that she hit him with the boat paddles, shoved him out of the boat, and threw the paddles after him. They ended that sudden spat with the image of "water droplets, floating from airborne oars, like cherry blossoms falling". And then the boatman says that there was no geisha, the man was just so drunk he was hallucinating.
Well, it might not be as humorous in the re-telling - good acting makes a huge difference. But I liked it (so did the rest of the class). Surprisingly, the group with the Japanese girl and American guy did the worst out of all - they just read a couple sentences...which I suppose would be fine, but disappointing, if they hadn't been required to take up at least 5 minutes. So they panicked in front of the class, wasted some time coming up with something else, and then tossed out some things so dull I can't remember them at all.

I was pleased with the class. I'll only go every two weeks, since they spend those other two weeks doing Japanese (which I'm pretty shaky on - I've forgotten nearly everything). I even got paid at the end of my full workday, and, to celebrate, went with a certain someone for a celebratory dinner. We ate fancy - we ordered $3 meals!
(twice the price of my usual $1.50 fried rice dinner.)


So that's my accidental job. I have to say, for the incredibly tiny amount of effort I put into getting it, I'm pretty pleased with the result. I think I'll like this class.

And that covers...well, part of one recent afternoon. Wow, am I ever behind (at least, if I want to cover the more interesting things that happen to me.)
All for now! Thanks for reading, by the way.