Thursday 9/26/02    Taipei Eye and Shooters Happy Hour

 

My PC at home is really about to blow any day and is just screwy, so have fallen behind.

 

Today I had to go to FSE during lunch to get the tickets to the traditional performing arts show for me and Mom, whom they allowed me to bring.  Again I took bus 18 there, thinking I’d figure it out this time, but it just does NOT go there, they must have told me wrong.  Got out as soon as I saw an MRT and took it one stop to CKS Memorial and had to walk more.  As I waited for Amy, I noticed my name cards along with my name chop on a desk, the ones they’d already printed before saw the draft she faxed.  The section number of my address was wrong and in the end I told them I didn’t want my home address or home number on them, despite Amy’s protests:

“ALL the Fulbright scholars put their home address and home number on the card, because you don’t have office.” 

“Well, I don’t really feel comfortable or safe putting my home address on it because I might give the cards to people I don’t know that well.  And actually, I DO have an office, at TaiDa Hospital.” 

“But everyone else does home address, you must put home address.” 

Repeat the above exchange three times.  Then abruptly:  “OK, you just want your cellphone number and no home address?  I tell them that then.”  You now have heard one of my typical conversations with Amy S.

 

So when I saw the wrong ones lying there, I asked her if they were just throwing them away, because if so I’d just take them anyway.  She was confused and thought these were the 2nd drafts and they hadn’t corrected the mistake again, and told me I should’ve come in person, like “all the others” to approve the design, and since I never come in, I hadn’t corrected the mistake in time.  I kept repeating that she’d sent me the fax of the correction and that fax I’d approved as right.  But because of her gift of selective hearing, the woman just didn’t comprehend. 

 

 I only worked until 3:45 and was meeting mom at 4:15 at Taipei Main Station, paranoid she’d be late so I’d added in some buffer time.  ChiYuan and HsiangGiun had meticulously drawn me maps and detailed directions on how to take the bus from there to the Taiwan Cement Building where the performance was.  Mom was already there waiting when I arrived at TMS to my surprise.  We found the bus right away and got to the TCB with 25 minutes to kill.  There were beautiful fragrant flowers, huge arrangements everywhere, and a huge spread waiting on the banquet tables.  Upstairs we got good seats in the auditorium and people filtered in.  I waved when I  saw Shawna who sat with us, and there was apparently some famous man in front because lots of cameramen were snapping wildly.  Shawna shrugged when I asked who it was, and said she just shared the elevator with him.

       

        Tonight marked the first Taipei Eye performance in this new facility, so there was first a ribbon-cutting and some speeches.  The audience looked like it was mostly comprised of international/foreign businessmen who had gotten invited like us.  Just as they snipped the ribbon, balloons and long glittery ribbons and confetti fell from the ceiling and people (including Mom and me) scrambled to grab ribbons and stuff them in our bags.  Hey, we were helping them clean up, right?

 

Performances included an aboriginal dance, a PiPa (string instrument shaped like a long pear of a violin, held upright in one’s lap) and the best was a very famous puppet group with an elaborate puppet set and routine, and a narrator speaking the most twangy drawly Taiwanese I’ve ever heard--I couldn’t comprehend a thing and kept asking Mom if it was really Taiwanese or some other dialect, but she insisted yes.  The puppets did Kung Fu, jumped and twirled (he’d flip the puppet in the air and catch it back on his hand), used nunchucks and even spun plates on chopsticks.  Mom said it’s the most famous puppet troupe in the country and that was her favorite act.  She’s such a kid.

       

When it was over we headed for the buffet downstairs—cakes, pastries, fruit, juices, dumplings, rolls—fantastic!  I introduced Mom to some Fulbrighters but she seemed much more into the food.

 

Was pretty stuffed but headed to the Oriented Happy Hour at Shooters.  Gary had told me he knew some “pretty cool people” have gone to these things, and Ginger had heard about it from a friend and was curious too.  Mom went home and I met Ginger at ChungHsiao DunHwa and we wandered into the alleys looking for the address to Shooters.  On the way we ran into a white dude, Brad who heard us talking and asked if we were looking for the Happy Hour too, so the three of us found it.  We had to make nametags at the door.  It was a pretty nice, small bar with tables and a lounge in the middle, and no pool table despite the name.  Most of the free food was gone and what was left was pretty limp and cold, but we just got drinks.  We ran into the ultra bubbly California girl I met at the 9/11 vigil but otherwise didn’t know anyone.  They all seemed a bit older, professional, and knew each other already.  We sat at a table for a bit sipping and soon decided to leave.  She took a couple pictures with her digital camera and an Asian guy with surfer-dude longish hair noticed and asked if she was taking pictures for the Oriented website.  She said No, but he asked if she could take his picture with his friend, plus Brad, and they took our picture too.  We were ready to go so we made introductions quickly and I gave him (Bill) and Brad my name card which I explained was new and I was very excited to be giving out (decided that having the incorrect section number in my address actually DOES make it safe to give out), and we left.

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