My calculations were, fortunately, correct, and I was able to remember most everything I needed to, and was able to express myself in ways that no Chinese-speaker would ever think of (it's called a lack of vocabulary). Do I get points for that?
The last part of the exam was a short essay: write about your most memorable holiday. I thought about writing about Passover in the States (how do you say matzos in Chinese?), but I thought it would be easiest (and truthful as well) to write about my first Chinese New Year in Taiwan last year.A picture of me when I was a famous Hollywood actor. Don't I look handsome?
I recalled how I came to Taiwan in January of 2005, just an innocent waiguoren (外國人) not knowing anyone here. I had never even smelled stinky tofu (臭豆腐) or seen more than maybe one or two English spelling mistakes in one day. I didn't know what I was in for.
Soon, though, I began making friends. If you know me, you know I'm good like that. And one day, through a friend that I made in a cafe, I met Hui-Jun.
Hui-Jun was in her early 20s, having just graduated from university in Danshui. She wore glasses, was tall and looked smart, and really wanted to practice English (she majored in English in school). Hui-Jun was the first Taiwanese person I met who actually spoke English that I could understand. And she was the first Taiwanese person I met who actually wasn't afraid of speaking English (actually, she smiled a lot while speaking English).
Hui-Jun was my first real taste of the kindness of Taiwanese people. She explained Taiwanese culture to me and took me to Danshui where we enjoyed the food and walking on the boardwalk. And afterwards, she would always be smiling and would say, "That was fun. I don't think I have ever spoke that much English at one time."
When the Chinese New Year was approaching, Hui-Jun asked if I had plans. "Of course not," I replied. If I knew Chinese, I would have said, "哪還用說嗎?" but I didn't know anything beyond "你好嗎 (ni hao ma; "how are you?") at that point. I really didn't know that many people here. And so Hui-Jun invited me to dinner with her family on the eve of the New Year. I told other friends this and they told me that this was a big honor.
I arrived at her house, a little nervous, and met her family. Despite my lack of Chinese, they all received me with much warmth, her father practicing his bad English with me (but he was trying!). He even tried to get me drunk.
At the end of the evening, I received red envelopes from her father and grandfather. I was so surpised, and even more suprised when I got home and opened them up. I called up a Taiwanese friend and wondered, "Uh oh, she invited me to dinner with her family for the New Year and they gave me money. Does this mean I have to marry her?"
Fortunately, according to my Taiwanese friend's knowledge of Taiwanese culture, there are no such customs. If there are, I think I might have messed up big-time. Let me know if you know about such a custom. Thanks.
Well, Hui-Jun and I stayed in touch for a little while, but our phone calls and emails got lost in the busy-ness of Taipei, and we eventually lost touch. I know that she was planning to study in Canada, and I thought about her from time to time, but we never managed to see each other again.
Forward to this past month. I will spare you the details, but I was a little absent-minded and lost my wallet, something I've never done. I guess now I can understand what people feel like when this happens.
To make a long story short, I had to get some obscure certificate from some office in downtown Taipei after I lost my Taiwanese alien I.D. After taking a bus and the MRT, transferring twice, I finally found the government building on Guangzhou St. I walked in, and saw that it looked just like every other bureaucracy in the world, brimming with anxious, frustrated people and workers who didn't want to take time out of their precious days to be there.
I went to two different information desks to find out where to go, and took a number. Actually, I don't mind all this running around, because it is all new to me, and I usually get a chance to practice my Mandarin. Don't get me wrong, I am not looking for opportunities to get involved in the bureaucracy of the Taipei city government, but I can deal.
Walking with my number to get a seat, a familiar face approaches me and smiles. It is Hui-Jin! We hadn't seen each other for over a year and a half, and she told me that she just returned from studying in Canada.
My number is called, and I give her my cell phone number so we can stay in touch this time.
***
Later in the day, after working in clinic, I meet an Australian friend for dinner (he's also a hippie acupuncturist), and we end up walking several kilometers through town from Gongguan to Tonghua Jie, mostly through Taida's (台大) beatiful campus (Taida, also known as National Taiwan University, is the Harvard of Taiwan). My legs need a break, but I don't say anything (am I becoming Taiwanese?).
We finally get to Tonghua market, where we have some Taiwanese night market snacks (mmm, a greasy omelette with tomato sauce, and some chewy corn on the cob--how do they do that?). After dinner, it's time for me to get home, and I realize there's a bus nearby I can catch that will take me back home to Muzha in less than twenty minutes.
But, before I leave Tongua market, I spot a fruit stand that carries my favorite type of guava, soft and red on the inside. You can't get these babies at 7-11, so I buy a few from the old Taiwanese woman sitting next to the stand reading a paper. "I never see this type of guava in Taipei--only in Danshui," I tell her.
"That's my family's stand in Danshui," she tells me with a smile. She packs up the fragrant fruits, and I am off to catch my bus.
I wait near Taipei 101 for the bus, and when it arrives, I get in, sit down, and review a handout in Chinese from my teacher. My teacher asks us to memorize useful phrases each week, which we will be tested on. Fortunately, she has a sense of humor. One of the sentences reads: "我什麼都吃,就是不吃女人的豆腐" (untranslatable!).
"Ron!" I hear from behind. It's my friend Gloria. We bump into each other all the time. Even though she lives in Muzha as well, I think it is quite strange that in the past few months, we have bumped into each other no fewer than six times.
I always tell her that our "coincidental" meetings have meaning, but she never believes me. This time, though, she is smiling, and I think I know what she is thinking, that perhaps I am right, that these meetings can't be simple accidents.
As she always does, she asks me, "Hey, what are you doing on this bus?" And as usual, I reply, "Hey, why are you asking me why I am doing what I am doing?" as if I'm some kind of stalker or something.
"What are you doing in front of the grocery store?" she asked when we met in front of Kuma supermarket. " What are you doing at the bus stop?" and "What are you doing on the subway?" she asked me the last few times we saw each other. That girl, she's so funny.
"I'm just living my life," I say to myself.
***
What I am doing, telling you all these stories? I guess it's a long way of explaining the concept of "yuan fen" ( 緣分) to those of you who don't know what it is.
I mean that if things like this happen, don't lose out on an opportunity to make meaning of your life. Think clearly. What are the chances of these things happening? I mean, there are some people in your neighborhood who sleep 50 meters away from you every night, and I am sure you never see them.
What does it mean when you bump into a friend who you just wrote an essay about on your midterm? Or, how about the person you keep bumping into, maybe six times in the past two months?
There's "reality" and we all know what that's about. You know, planning your next career move, or getting excited about your next purchase. Maybe pulling an all nighter, and then having to work the next day. Sometimes its beauty is indescribable. And frankly, as one Israeli friend once said to me in his thick accent, "face it, life eez a pehn in theh ass."
But then there's a glitch in the matrix, and I see beyong my mundane life, and I remember, there's something else going on, deeper, nonlinear, and way more magical.
1 comment:
there is this guy who wrote a book
'the sense of being stared at'
why not u read that book
cheers !
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