Tuesday 10/29/02
Costume Shopping
I’d
talked to each of Niclas, Jonathan and Shawna during the past few days and we
all planned to go to the FSE reception on Thursday the 31st. It was being given by the chairman of
FSE and the director of AIT; all the Fulbrighters, other overseas scholarship
recipients, and FSE staff would be there and we’d all received formal
invitations. We thought it’d be
funny if we showed up in Halloween costume since it sounded semi-formal. I sent out an email to all the Junior
Scholars and got Yes’s from Jonathan and Shawna, and a slightly concerned
message from Niclas about whether it was appropriate. Jonathan wrote back that he “wasn’t looking for any jobs
from the AIT director” and Shawna wrote that if they schedule something on
Halloween, they should expect some Halloween festivity. So Tuesday night the four of us went to
ShiMenDing to do costume-shopping.
We
were told there were two big costume rental stores there and found them because
they had costumed mannequins out front.
The most prominently displayed were tiny cheerleader outfits; we figured
that must be the kind of thing Taiwanese girls like. Inside there was every kind of costume one could
imagine. Chinese traditional
outfits (martial arts, chipaos, aboriginal), other countries’ traditional
outfits, American things (cowboys, Indians), princess gowns, religious garb, I
couldn’t remember it all if I tried.
There were huge animal heads we tried on that were heavy and unbearably
stuffy inside, but hilarious when we saw each other try them on.
After a
lot of looking Shawna and I still didn’t have anything, Niclas had an idea but
would come back tomorrow, and Jonathan suddenly appeared in full Uncle Sam
garb. He looked so natural in it, we
all knew it was perfect for him.
He went up to pay and had to sign a form. Then, even though Jonathan had been talking to him the whole
time in Chinese, the cashier looked at me and said, “[You can help him read and
write the form!]” as John was already
filling it in. I cracked up, “Did
he just tell ME to help YOU read the form?” Jonathan wasn’t amused. I told the guy, “[He doesn’t need my help! HE can read a lot better than
ME.]” The guy clearly looked
confused but just said, “Oh” and shrugged.
As we
passed by the dressing cubbies, we saw a Taiwanese girl trying on an incredibly
skimpy dress. It wasn’t any kind
of identifiable costume, just skimpy.
She looked quite happy about it and told her friends, adjusting her
boobs, “[Look how well they fit into the cups!]”
We
got eats at a sidewalk place and dessert at a shaved ice place. We didn’t recognize a lot of words on
the menu, so Jonathan and I went up to the workers to ask them what they all
were. I was already pretty set on
getting a mango ice, but we asked anyway.
We would ask, “[What’s blahblah?]”
The guy would then let us try whatever it was, like a bean or a piece of
moji. He did this so many times
that I said maybe we should just play dumb and ask him things that we DID know,
like: “[What’s mango ice?]” etc.,
and just get our fill that way.
Shawna
and I ordered mango ices and wondered why our orders were over twice as
expensive as the guys’, who’d just ordered sweet soups. The waitress brought them over and we
realized why—they were HUGE. We
should’ve just shared one. But as
I dug in, I realized it was a humungous pile of snow and syrup, on top of which
was a thin layer of the fruit. Ah HA.
I wondered if the workers ever made
snowballs and threw them at the passersby. I guess that wouldn’t be so good for business. But I know I’D do it if I worked there.
When
I got home it was 10PM, and water was dripping from the ceiling right in front
of my door when I walked in. The
leak had gotten worse. Apparently
my apartment had had a leaky ceiling well before I moved in and Juling had
asked the 9th floor tenants to look into fixing it. Since I’d moved in, there hadn’t been
any dripping, but I’d noticed stains on the ceiling and brown drip lines
starting to grow down the walls. A
couple times I’d come home and seen little drops on the floor and had called
Juling’s chauffeur GuanWu about it, and he said they were trying to remind 9th
Floor to fix it. But 9-5 already
knew about the problem, so there was nothing more we could do. They were never home, and apparently
they’re “night people”, party and drink all night, have call girls over, and
sleep in all day. Mom had found this
out from the doormen, and the cable guy had confirmed it when he hooked up my
cable. Said he’s been inside there
and their apartment is extremely nice and they live high on the hog. Mom was devastated and I was disturbed
too. It felt like I was living
under a brothel. But I’ve never
seen them, or I don’t know it if I have.
So
now it was dripping steadily and I was fed up. I called GuanWu and Juling and said it was coming down
pretty badly. GuanWu came over,
Juling sounded like she was already asleep and told GuanWu to go find the 9-5
people, so he ran up but surprise!
They weren’t home. He put a
tub under it and “tsk-tsk”ed, used my camera to snap photos, and said this
wasn’t right, we’d have to sue them.
He called Juling and said it looked very bad, the ceiling was all
ruined, and besides the leak was right next to a light fixture (even though
there was no bulb installed) and electrical wires so it looked very
dangerous. Then he hung up and
smiled reassuringly at me. I
asked, “[You really think it’s dangerous?]” and he looked uncomfortable,
“[Ermm.. No, not so bad.]” As if I
hadn’t just heard him on the phone?
He tried to cheer me up by chatting it up with me, then spotted my deck
of cards and showed me a magic trick.
I was really tired and thoroughly un-amused. Eventually the water stopped dripping on its own, so he said
it looked all right and left.
I was
still upset, but my mind went back to my costume and I racked my brain for a
good, easy, cheap idea. During
everything I did, from brushing my teeth to showering, I thought about the
items I was using and what could make a good costume. Then I threw away some trash and had the perfect idea. Taiwan trash! Everyone in Taipei has to use those standard trash bags, so
everyone knows what they look like.
I’d wear a huge one and stuff it with scraps (CLEAN stuff) like empty
bottles and boxes and crumpled napkins etc. How easy was that?
Arguing with CyberFakeName
I
hadn’t heard back from Debby from CyberFakeName (which, for you Sherlocks out
there, is not the company’s real name) about my extra hour of work, so I’d
emailed Nicole a very polite, apologetic but straightforward message about it,
thinking maybe she’d be more helpful.
Didn’t hear from her but instead, got a long-ass email from Debby, ALL
in Chinese. Was she kidding? Looking closely, I found I could
actually make out enough words that I could get the jist of it. First she wrote BS about how nice it
was to work with me, then said she would address my question regarding the
payment. She actually LISTED out
her points with numbers. Point #1,
they originally were going to pay me as a beginner, 800/hour, but Nicole must
have thought I had some experience, so she said 1000/hour. Point #2, when I got to the studio it
was 2:30, not 2PM, the time I was supposed to start, and therefore from 2:30-6
was only 3 ½ hours, not 4 as I claimed.
Therefore, Point #3, they decided it was fair to give me another 500NT
for the extra half-hour I’d worked, and I could choose to either pick it up or
give them my account # for money transfer.
I
couldn’t believe this. It wasn’t
the money I cared so much about; in fact I’d said I didn’t mean to make a big
deal, and never straight out asked for anything. I wasn’t expecting a play-by-play analysis; much less in
Chinese, when she knew my level wasn’t that good. Point #1 was irrelevant; I’d never said I was
dissatisfied with the pay, but just felt what was agreed upon was due, and it
was agreed I was to be paid by the hour, not a lump sum for the job. Point #2 irritated me the most, because
the reason I was late was because of Nicole’s crappy directions. I’d still taken the time out of my day
to be starting at 2 and was running around Taipei alleys in the rain for that
half-hour. And we’d actually
worked past 6:15, so I’d estimated it as 1 extra hour.
By
now I knew my chances for Nicole referring me for more recording jobs in the
future were shot. If I’d cared
that much about it, I would’ve ignored the whole money thing in the first
place. But I didn’t need or want
the job that bad, didn’t want to work with them again after this. This was about the principle of the
matter. I wasn’t going to be a
Taiwanese person and suck up unprofessional treatment and not complain. I’m an American; when my cheesecake
tastes like onions, hear me bitch.
I
started writing her back, starting with my own BS about being so happy to have
worked with them etc. (It’s
important to still bitch nicely.)
Then, I said I never meant to imply I didn’t appreciate the salary and
in fact believed they were quite generous. However, I only wanted to make sure we were complying with
the original terms of the payment.
Second, that the reason I was late was because I was given very unclear
and in fact incorrect directions.
“I strongly suggest that in the future, if you are expecting a foreigner
newly arrived to Taiwan and unfamiliar with the roads, that you give them very
clear directions so you will be sure not to waste any time.” Lastly, I gave her my account # for the
money transfer, because there was no way I was trekking back there and saying
fake-nice hellos to them, for 500NT.
Then
I thought I’d play her little game and write it in Chinese, so I gave it to
YuJung to translate and type up when she had time. She came back with it in half an hour. She said I was very “brave.” I said this wasn’t bravery, this is
just what Americans do.
The
next day I got Debby’s reply:
“Sorry Grace, I got your email but it is all confused, can you resend
it?” In my message below, all the
Chinese characters had turned into gibberish. Stupid Yahoo Mail!