Thursday 9/19  BS-ing Through Class and Last Family Dinner

 

By now I have been transformed into a MRT-rushing citywalker, unapologetically bumping people aside, cutting them off, brushing past, nudging through them on escalators and getting in/out of the subway car, inpatient with anyone walking slow, blocking the left side of escalator, changing direction or stopping in front of me or even crossing my path at a wrong speed/direction that makes me interrupt my own tempo.

 

I WOULD have been on time for class except the elevators take forever to go up because just as we start class, 8am section is getting out and going down.  Ran into Ginger as we’re going up, it turns out she lives only 2 stops down Chunghsiao from me. 

 

LauShi (“Teacher” is what we call her, you don’t call your teacher Mrs. So-and-So) handed back the tests and I got a 99.  Got a point off for writing a word wrong that I actually copied from the top of the test, and I copied it wrong, duh.  But funny how I get higher marks than most in the class on tests but when it comes to speaking and listening I’m the class dunce.  I hardly say a word in class because I don’t know how to say things, and as the teacher rattles off words I don’t understand, I’m madly but discreetly trying to write the pronunciations down in the margins of my book to ask my parents what they mean later.  My mom says to just ask the teacher and not be embarrassed, but that would mean I’d have to raise my hand at her every other word.

 

The most nerve-wracking is when she goes around the room asking each of us to describe something in our life that has to do with the current chapter.  Most people rattle off a few sentences but I’ll say as little as possible and when the teacher prods me further with questions, I’ll just say Yes or No.  Once, she asked who were the youngest children in our families, so a couple of us raised our hands.  She said some people say the youngest have the worst “Pi Chi,” was that true?  One girl said she thought her “Pi Chi” was very good.  I thought, it must be something that’s good and maybe I should be modest about my Pi Chi.  So the teacher asked me how was my Pi Chi, and I said, “Hai Hau,” which is usually a safe answer that can be applied to most anything, meaning “It’s OK” or “not too bad.”

 

Later my parents finally figured out it was the word for temper.  They laughed and said “Hai Hau” was a good answer.

 

During the break I chatted with Eric who I’d found out is two years older than me, making me feel better about being an oldie.  Judith the French girl is oldest, and much more so, about 32.    He apparently used to work for Quaker here, but they’d told him to come to this school to improve his Chinese.  I said, “You mean Quaker, like, oatmeal?”  Yep, he used to be in finance and was from Hong Kong then wanted to go into marketing and found this job and it was based here so he’s been here since last winter.  It was the most I’d heard him talk yet. 

 

After class I left for work early.  Dave and I had set the time to talk online.  I got there as fast as possible only detouring to 7-11 downstairs for “lunch” (veggie fruit juice, a Japanese Nori wrap, and mystery bun that turned out to be just plain).  Logged on and set up the cam and after a lot of waiting for the connection, we finally both saw each other.  But the motion was really slow and we just saw each other in a frozen position most of the time.  Disappointing.  But we chatted a long while and finally around 3 he said had to go to sleep, but he actually ended up working on his residency application personal statement until 5AM, sounding really frustrated with writer’s block.

 

JiauJu and I left at the same time, at 6 because I had to go meet M&D at Ama’s to go to dinner for Dad’s last night here.  JiauJu asked if I was bored and isolated in that corner, but I said no.  She said Dr C was asking, and wondering if they should move me somewhere less isolated.  I hope not, I like my privacy.  She also said he mentioned I should go out and sightsee more and I didn’t have to come in every day.  I said, “He said that??”  And here I’d thought he must think I’m a slacker, knowing I’m surfing the net/emailing all day and wondering when he’s going to see something I’ve done.  I realized he’s right.  Why should I be surfing the net, keeping so up to date on US news, even weather and movies and celebrities (more than I did when I was there) , and internet shopping when I should be out, seeing this city and country, learning the culture and history and really experiencing it?  As they say, this is “a gift,” this scholarship and chance to be here, and I can’t waste it.  I should be keeping up with THIS country’s news and learning their celebrities because for this year, this is “my” country, I am living here, and so what if I fall behind on what’s going on at home?  I should. 

 

When I got to Ama’s everyone exclaimed especially Dad, “hey, you got here OK!” in total surprise, and we headed out to a restaurant.  Zuenhong was waiting for us on the main street in his car, we took forever to get there because Agong decided to come and walks like a turtle on barbiturates, with Dad holding him upright the whole time.  Next to him, Ama looks downright sturdy and strong.  Next to Ama, my mom looks daisy-fresh and young enough to still be reproductive. 

 

At the restaurant Zuenhong’s wife and 2 boys were waiting, and Agu and Ajim.  At the next table were a bunch of men, some in uniform, all drinking, including one guy with the reddest face I’ve ever seen.  I was really scared for him wondering if his blood vessels were going to burst; it was like his skin was clear and we were looking at his blood; it was like he was a smurf except with red skin, not blue.  It was red to the tips of his ears. 

 

We sat around the table with a lazy Susan meaning we’d get a big multi course meal.  We had crispy shrimp, tofu hotpot, kongshingtsai, crispy skin pork leg, roast goose meat, fried spicy squid with fried sweet potato sticks, HeFen wide noodles with scallion which was THE best HeFen I’ve ever had even though it had no meat; a fish of course, more things I’m forgetting, and guava juice to drink.  All was quite good.  Lastly they brought out watermelon which was perfect since I was parched by then from all the salt, and around it were small clear MoJi filled with red bean wrapped in fake plastic leaves.  Dad asked “What’s this?” When mom handed him one, and he bit into the whole thing, I said “Dad! You’re supposed to take off the fake leaf.” 

 

By then the red face guy was sleeping at his table even though it was still a commotion and the men at our table were smoking.  I was getting stifled by it and my contacts irritated.  Dad was talking to Mom’s cousin the whole time about getting paid help for Ama and Agong.  Ama was gossiping to Mom the whole time about how she doesn’t like Zuenhong’s wife. 

 

Dad went off to his brother’s place to take care of business so I headed back to the MRT, Mom walked me halfway telling me how Mom’s sisters and cousins and M&D should split the cost of home help for Ama and Agong, but the others keep saying they have no money, and when Dad said he’d pay for it himself, they all went quiet, because they all think we’re rich. 

 

They’d wanted to get one of the cheap maids from Thailand or the Philippines but those are regulated by the Taiwan government because they threaten Taiwan’s own labor force.  So in order to qualify for one, you must show the elders to a doctor who will assess whether your situation is bad enough.  The last time Ama and Agong were seen, the doctor declared they couldn’t qualify.  Yet one of our other cousins who I won’t name was able to get one for their family (two parents and two kids, no elders) because they had an inside connection.  Why is life so unfair?

 

It will cost $1000US /month.  I said “What??  How can Dad pay for that??”  Mom sighed and said not to worry about it, this is not my problem.  Dad called and said he didn’t know I was leaving so soon, and Sorry we couldn’t say goodbye.