Things I Have Learned (While Abroad)

I was going to make a list, you know, of "things I have learned".  I would have been not unlike a fifth-grader at the end of a school year standing in the front of the classroom, with droplets of sweat clinging to the back of her neck while staring at piece of paper veined with thin blue lines and covered in smudges.  Her classmates would be squirming in their seats anxious to tear down the hallways and into the sunshine that beckons through the dirt-streaked windows.

But this is not fifth grade, is it?

The truth is I can't articulate exactly what it is I've learned in my time here.  I've done all those stereotypical things that people "do" when they are abroad: strengthened my language skills, made new friends, pushed myself beyond my comfort zone, etc, etc.  But there has been more to my experience than these things.  There were definitely times when I was so overwhelmed I felt I couldn't adjust anymore, and I didn't feel like I needed to.  I observed that some of my fellow exchange students got stuck in ruts: the going to clubs four times a week rut; the buying cheap shit rut; the I-hate-Taiwan-rut. (full disclosure: I was stuck in all of those ruts at one point or another this year.  Mom--I never went out four nights a week.)  It was extremely painful to leave those ruts, but when I did, I always learned more about myself and the world became a richer place.  And I will always be grateful for finding the courage to leave former, less than beautiful versions of myself behind.  It meant saying goodbye to ways of thinking, people, and habits that were no longer in my best interest.  But the people I have met, the new opinions I have adopted and the new things I am doing are fulfilling beyond my wildest expectations.  This year, while it had its ups and downs, was a gift.

 I am grateful for who I have become and the people who have accompanied me thus far.  If you're reading this blog, then that means you.  Thank you for coming along with me on this journey.  I look forward to the many places we'll go together.

Sincerely,
Marjorie

P. S.  I can change!  I can take a picture with Hello Kitty paraphernalia and not puke.

Wrapping Up (Taiwanese Tuesday)

I'm leaving in eleven days. First to Hong Kong, then back home for a week, then up to my home college for my summer job.

It doesn't feel real.  Not at all.  The butterflies in my stomach are scant fluttering their wings.

Summer has most definitely arrived: Taiwan's humid stickiness has returned and the temperatures are soaring again, but I'm much more used to it this time around.  I didn't think that that was possible--getting used to 90-degree, 65 percent humidity weather--but I suppose you can get used to a lot.

I've learned so much on this journey, but I think the most important lesson has been learning to love my messy and incomplete self.  I have a much clearer picture on what I want to accomplish my last year in college and in graduate school, and that was worth all of the discomfort and pain.

Time to finish my research paper, do my job training...and keep writing.

My Research Project (Taiwanese Tuesday)

Or, what I've been worried about for the last six months.

I came to Taiwan with the intention of researching about seventeenth-century Chinese eunuchs in hopes of using that research for a creative thesis.

It didn't work out, mainly because I couldn't find a professor to work with me.

The resident director of my program is Buddhist, and knows pretty much Every Living Buddhist in The World.  I'm sure she's met the Dalai Lama at one point.  In December I accompanied her on a translation retreat run by an international Buddhist women's association.  It was a very cold but enlightening weekend.  The ladies I met were of all ages and walks of life, and had taken refuge in Buddhism for different reasons.  I participated in workshops where mostly Chinese was spoken, and got to know them over the course of

Because of her connections and my limited options, I decided refocus my project.  I love languages (not linguistics--yuck).  I was intrigued by something my resident director had said: when the Buddhist sutras were translated from Sanskrit to Chinese, the translators had to come up with about 100,000 new idioms to convey the ideas the sutras were proposing.  The concepts did not exist in Chinese, and so the language itself had to change in order to allow a new religion to take place in a different culture.

My project is seeing if Taiwanese students under 25 still use these centuries-old idioms today.


I'm in the last stages of drafting a questionnaire that I will be using to ask Taiwanese students around my campus.  I already did some interviews and ran into some preliminary glitches, so it's back to the drawing board.

And no.  This questionnaire does not include all 100,000 of the idioms.  That would be overdoing it just a hair.

See you Thursday.

Honesty and Doubt

Since the rapture didn't happen, it means we all have to get back to our responsibilities and commitments.  I'm actually kind of happy about that.  I'm in the middle of a lot of interesting things, and if the world had ended, I wouldn't have been able to go to Hong Kong to see my mom.

Time to be honest about some things, I think.

I haven't been completely happy here.

That's a bit of an understatement.

I really hated it here for a long time.

It's no one's fault.  I'm not blaming my program, the friends I've made, or even Taiwan.  But this experience for a long time was none of what I was expecting.  I complained pretty extensively to my mother and close friends and left it at that.  I had work to do, classes to go to, and projects that needed to be completed on time.  Making deadlines has historically been difficult for me, and when I leave here, I leave.  That's it.

So, I figured if I didn't have anything positive to say, then say nothing at all.  I beat myself up about not posting because not everyone gets to travel, so I didn't have the luxury of being unhappy.

This is not to say that I spent every moment of my time in abject misery.  There were moments where I found satisfaction, and I sucked those moments dry to find the strength to keep going.  And I threw myself into my research here: working with my advisor, refining my topic, working on my proposal, and steeling myself not to give up.  I could have.  The temptation was there; there were a lot inconveniences and obstacles, not the least of which was that I couldn't take books out of the library, and I needed a bibliography.  So I needed to get creative.

And then, like magic, everything came together for me.  The end is in sight, all I have to do is complete my research, take a final, write a couple of papers, complete my online job training, and I'm on my way.

Life is glorious.  Living often isn't.  But the unromantic moments (or days, or weeks, or even longer) help us enjoy those romantic moment when they hit us over the head.

I'll talk more about my research project on Tuesday.  Enjoy not being raptured.

D is for Dogs

Afternoon naptime

These are just two of the many stray dogs that hang around my campus.  They bark a lot at night and follow you if you're eating something, which is really annoying.  When they crowd around me, I stand very still and pretend that I'm Cesar Milan.  After a while, they understand that I'm not going to feed them and go bother someone else.  I met the person who feeds them a few months ago, a lady in her forties with a tanned, weathered face and a broad smile.

"They're not good dogs," she said, scowling at the strays who wagged their tails.  "They don't listen to me."

I know they look cute in the picture, but they're kind of a pain to deal with in real life.  Still, I included them in this blog series, because, like it or not, they are a part of my life here, and they do pretty much run the University. 

I think I'm all caught up now.  See you tomorrow!

C is for Colds and Chinese Medicine

Taiwanese cough medicine.  It looked and tasted like dirt--but it worked

I took a couple of days off blogging because I was on the tail end of a Taiwanese Cold: Deluxe Edition, featuring chills, fatigue, sore throat, and compromised breathing (I have a bit of asthma).  I had no voice for three days.  I'm much better now.

On the second day of the cold one of my intrepid Taiwanese classmates named Maggie accompanied me to a local clinic.  After the doctor listened to me breathe through a stethoscope, he explained that my asthma was aggravated by my cold.  Lots of people have been getting sick because it's been warm during the day and cold at night, and the humidity is as high as always.

I got a special nebulizer treatment while Maggie pounded my back.  Man, Taiwanese girls have so much strength in their hands it's not even funny.  The mucus in my lungs didn't stand a chance.

The kindly doctor came over to check on me.  "Is okay for you?"  He asked, in English.

I nodded.  The doctor told me I could come back to get the nebulizer treatment whenever I needed it; it was free.

I spent the next few days holed up in my room watching Disney movies, sleeping, drinking tea and taking meds.  I went to class but didn't talk much.  Today I sound just about normal.  I'm going to karaoke in a few minutes.  We'll see how that goes.

Whew!  Glad that bit's over with.  Now I can get back to my life.

5 Minutes Left--Taiwanese Tuesday

I almost missed the deadline!  Phew.

It just occurred to me yesterday that I am going home it two and a half months.  My subconscious is blissfully unaware that I am not going to be here forever.  I haven't told it yet.  No need to traumatize it at this point.

Went to the Red Cross last night with my "host mother" a lovely Taiwanese woman who I will be staying with this weekend.  I believe going to the hot springs is on the agenda.  I spoke Chinese the entire time, and my head didn't hurt.  I made some mistakes, but I can understand about 85-90% of everyday conversation and respond appropriately.  Oh, language proficiency.  How lovely you are!

And now, class!  (It's noon my time.)

See you Thursday.

Taiwanese Wednesday

This week has been hectic so far.  Someone seems to have pressed the fast-forward button on my life.  I'm starting research on a project I really like; I love my new Chinese teacher and classmates; new followers on this blog are trickling in; I got a summer job; my novel's trajectory is clear.  Even though I lost my Alien Resident Certificate last week after waiting for weeks to pick it up, reapplying for it has not been terribly strenuous, as my increased language skills have made life here much smoother.  All of these things, by the way, have happened within a few days of each other.

So I've been feeling a little like this:

This was taken after attempts to wake me failed.  My classmates are interesting people.

But, most of all, this place is finally starting to feel like home.

After almost seven months of culture shock, disillusionment, homesickness, loneliness, boredom, and frustration, suddenly Taiwan has become familiar to me.

And when I mean suddenly, I mean a couple weeks ago I was dragging myself up the mountain to go to class.  I bemoaned that Chinese was impossible.  I fantasized about having my bedroom back and seeing friends and family.

Now I'm running around trying to organize the last three months of my life, and it looks like I'll have just enough time to get everything done.  I'm even considering getting a research grant to come back here after I graduate.  I'm doing research in Chinese and I can read most of the characters.  All the suffering is paying off.

I'm cycling between exhaustion and contentment, and I'm grateful and honored to have you all along for the ride.

See you tomorrow!

So Apparently I Can Post Pictures on This Thing

DUH.
My descriptive powers are no match for the beauty of Hualien, so here you go!  Enjoy.

Look at that blue!

A really scary awesome bridge you had to get a government permit to go on because of the risks.

This was why we could go on a trail for only half an hour at a time.

I have no idea who that is.

seriously cool.

Writing and Traveling: A Match Made it Hualien

I've just returned from a three-day trip to Hualien, the east coast of Taiwan.  I wasn't planning on going, but I changed my mind at the last minute.  I was so glad I did, because it was one of the best weekends I've had since coming to Taiwan.  We visited Taroko Gorge National Park and the surrounding beaches, where I saw some of the most breathtaking scenery in my entire life.  I mean, I saw shades of blue I didn't know existed.  I also got to bond with the new CIEE students, which was really eye-opening, because my Chinese is (finally) at a level where I can appreciate more of the language's nuances.  Many of the new students are American-born Taiwanese, so we spoke Chinese almost the whole weekend, and (huzzah) my head didn't explode.  Was I proud of myself?  You bet.

I've also gotten The Stylish Blogger Award from Michael Offut and Devin Bond.  Thank you both very much!  I'm super flattered. I'm required to answer a few questions about myself and award other bloggers, which I'll do next week.  I'm a bit tired from the trip.  It's not going to be a long night.

I assigned my second post of the week to be about writing.  I've been reluctant to talk about writing-- specifically my writing--the same way I've been a reluctant blogger.  This is a bit ironic: a girl who can and does talk about anything and everything at great length is reluctant to discuss herself.  But I'm opening up more (thanks, Taiwan) and I took the time to discuss the writing process with fellow blogger Misha Gericke and the plot and characters of my newest project with a friend back home.  They've been enormously helpful with their suggestions.  Misha asked me if I'm a plotter or pantser.  When I asked her to clarify, she asked if I plan out plot points or if I write by the seat of my pants, an interesting question to be sure.  I guess I do a bit of both.  I plan and then write by the seat of my pants.

I don't write from plot.  I write from character.  Character, character, character.  I create characters, throw them into situations, and watch how they react.  I listen to their dialog.  And then I write it down.  Recently, this process has been tougher than usual, because I usually give up on my characters before I commit a word to the page.  My newest project, however, is forcing me to be both accountable to you, my readers, and develop these characters more.  In turn, they've shown me hues and shades that I didn't see before.  It happened this weekend, while I was taking in the landscape.  My characters deepened and sprouted dimensions that took me aback in a good way.

Characters should be like people: inconsistent, idiosyncratic, and surprising.  Their motivations should be clear, but how they get to what they want shouldn't be.  I believe a proper tension between motivation and character is what makes a literary work interesting.  I've got no problem with the characters. What I'm wondering is if my protagonist has enough motivating him to push the trajectory of the novel in the direction I want it to go.  And there's only one way to find out: keep writing.

See you all Tuesday.

Taiwanese Tuesday

So I've found a decent bagel place in Taipei.  This is a big deal, because bagels were a staple of mine when I was little and I miss them so much.  Obviously, I am in a country where rice is a staple, but I need bread all the time every once in a while.  When I walked into the place, I met a someone who lived nine blocks from me back home who is studying here full time.  I came back the next day and met the owner, who lived in New York in the 80s and offered to teach me Taiwanese.  She told me she has an actual Taiwanese/English textbook, which I'd love to get my hands on.  I think I've found another regular spot for weekend brunch and general chillaxation.  The cupcakes are incredible.

Also, I met a Philipino cab driver today who apprenticed as a chef for twelve years before getting his taxi driver's license.  He gave me his card, and I think I'm going to let him drive me to some good eateries around the city.  Apparently he knows an Italian restaurant owned by a real Italian man with a real Italian chef, which sounds great.  I don't know any expats who have opened restaurants here.

Tomorrow I'm heading to Hualien, the Eastern part of Taiwan, with the CIEE group.  At first I wasn't going to go, but Carol (resident coordinator)'s face looked was so crestfallen when I told her my plans to stay in Taipei that I changed my mind.  We're going to Taroko Gorge, Taiwan's most famous national park.  I'm really looking forward to it, much more than I thought I would.  I don't think I'll be able to post on Thursday, but I'll be back on Friday!

Happiest of Tuesdays.

Tips for applying for your ARC (alien resident certificate, aka resident visa)

• Wait until right before the Chinese New Year to process your visa application.  This is when everyone else wants to travel and do their banking, so naturally the people at the consulate will be super inclined to help you. 
• Feel free to fill out any and all application forms in crayon.  Bonus points if you sprinkle them with glitter.
• In addition to your supporting documents, draw a picture of yourself holding a heart with a caption that says,  "I love Taiwan!"...in English.
• The people working at the consulate deal with foreigners all the time, so feel free to fill in any parts of the application in French, German, Dutch, or Arabic.  This will not bother them in the slightest.
• Don't be afraid to quiz their English.
• Sign all the documents with your Elvish name.
• When you get to the counter to pay for your application, hand in all but 10 NTD.  Take your time looking for it.  The longer the line, the longer you take.
• While you wait for your application to be processed, distribute red envelopes full of fake money to strangers' children in honor of Chinese New Year to show respect for local culture.  The parents will appreciate you going the extra mile, and it's good karma to get your visa processed faster.

I can write short posts, too.

I was feeling a bit gray today, so I decided to do the following:

-Treat myself to a French toast brunch/dinner.

-Buy something to make me smile.  I gave myself one rule:  the thing I was buying in question had to make me happy.  It didn't have to make sense or necessarily be useful.

So after eating said comforting French toast, I bought the following things:

-A purple pig lamp
-A sinister Hello Kitty pin.  (I believe this is the REAL Hello Kitty.  Why else would she have taken over East Asia if she didn't have an agenda of world domination?  My theory: she's stocking up a pile of pink missiles somewhere.  Guantanamo?)
-A Snoopy-themed hanging organizer.  I'm going to add it to the pile of crap on my bed and hope it all sorts itself out.
-A New Year's card that I am going to give to myself.  IT IS PRETTY AND HAS A GOLD FAN ON IT.
-A pair of shiny new headphones that has removable colors that I can mix and match.  Seriously, who wants to wear headphones that are the same color?  (Currently wearing silver and blue.)

It's New Year's next week (they don't call it Chinese New Year here, just New Year) and it's the Year of the Rabbit.  I'm hoping to go to the south of the island if all the train and bus tickets aren't booked (they most likely totally are) and the hotels aren't reserved up the wazoo.  I have a sneaking suspicion I'm going to hear a lot of mei you ban fa, but I'll see what I can come up with.

Happy Rabbit Year, everyone!

It's Not New Year's Until I Say It Is: Part 1

Happy New Year Everyone!

I ushered in the New Year in a Buddhist temple in the Northern End of Taipei, high above the city.  I spent the last moments of 2010 meditating, sending myself, you, and all sentient beings love and forgiveness, then went outside and watched a fireworks display from Taipei 101.  I had a great view of the skyline, and while watching explosions of colored fire scatter over the horizon, I felt a fundamental peace that I believe has sprung from practicing being in the moment.

This year is technically Year 100 because in Taiwan the calendar starts from the founding of the Republic of China after the overthrow of the Qing Dynasty in 1911.  (Quiz: what year were you born in, according to the Taiwanese calendar?)

I seem to have hit a sweet spot recently.  The same way at almost exactly two months I skidded into culture shock, at almost exactly four months (as of 12/24) I felt myself relax into my life here.  I've accepted that this is my home now, for all of its annoyances and perks.  My Mandarin has improved, which has made communicating with locals a lot easier, and the meditation practices have helped me take a step back and be more objective about situations that frustrate me.  

I'm not sure if this revelation was the cause of or facilitated by some new discoveries I made.  I've been spending more time near the boys' dorm on top of the mountain, and I found a study center with comfortable couches and a cafeteria next open late that serves my favorite Asian dish: dry noodles with vegetables and meat piled on.  In Beijing I ate a similar dish almost daily, and it is both nourishing and comforting.  In the food court section of Taipei 101, there is a stand that sells beef soup that is incredibly delicious.  The beef is tender and succulent, the broth rich enough to pass for stew.  The slippery noodles are fresh, and the bok choy crunches.  Happiness in a bowl.

It's taken me four months to find food in Taiwan that's both palatable and satisfying, but better late than never I suppose.

I've avoided blogging because I chose not to use this corner of the Internet for negativity.  Culture shock runs the gamut of emotions, not the least of which are bitterness, frustration, angst, self-pity, and depression.  These feelings, particularly self-pity, have a knack for perpetuating themselves ad nauseam.  Now that I've gotten some perspective on my feelings, though, I think it's time for me to elaborate the things I've been dealing with that used to send me spiraling into a Very Frustrating Place that required a combination of Polish vodka, deep breathing, and diaphragmatic sobbing to break me out of.

I emphasized when I began this blog that Taiwan is most absolutely and definitely not China.  I loved China--it was dirty and overcrowded and the Mandarin was sometimes usually incomprehensible, but I didn't care.  I shrugged off the merchants who shouted at me and tried to grab me, largely because the food was sumptuous.  It didn't matter if I had overpaid for a useless trinket.  I had a bowlful of noodles/dumplings/baozi* and everyone else could stuff themselves.  I never ate Western food on the Mainland.  The mere thought of New York Chinatown food made me nauseated.  In fact, when I came back from China it took me a while to acclimate to the Americanized "Chinese" takeout.

Then there were the people.  In my experience, Chinese people love to brag, tell anecdotes, and are generally friendly so it was easy to meet new people.  Sure, they were sometimes brusque...but usually something delicious to eat resulted of my interactions with them, so it was fine.  And in cities like Beijing, there is always something to do.

This lifestyle was not without its drawbacks.  Crime was pervasive; we had to sign a release form that we would never get on the back of a motorcycle.  There were no traffic lights--it was Cross At Your Own Risk.  The pollution was at times unbearable (I went to China in the summertime).  I became extremely homesick (I was fifteen).  But nonetheless, I loved just about every minute of my time there.

Fast forward five years.  Taiwan 2010.

*baozi: similar to a dumpling, baozi is a steamed bun filled with either meat or vegetables.  A particularly delicious variation of baozi is xiaolongbao, which contains hot soup inside (it's basically melted pork fat.  So.  Good.)

...Continued in It's Not New Year's Until I Say It Is: Part 2

Culture Shocked. Be right back.

Hey everyone,

If I haven't posted in a while or not gotten back to your emails, it's because my brain has been completely fried--well done--from culture shock.  I don't want to fill this blog with negativity and long rants, because it's not Taiwan's fault that I'm going through this very normal phase of adjusting to a very different culture.  I have a drawerful of postcards and letters that I've promised to send.  I will send them.  I haven't forgotten you.  If you read this blog, if you talk to me online, if you pray for me, thank you.  My brain will one day unstick itself and become more functional.  There really is nothing I can do but wait for my Humpty-Dumpty brain to put itself back together again.

In the meantime, I turn this blog over to you, dear readers.  YOU will be the ones determining the subject of the next post.  You have three anecdotes to choose from:

1. A party that I recently attended that was broken up by the cops.
2. An incident involving an oversized sanitary napkin
3. Political maneuvering in a Taiwanese dorm.

Simply comment at the bottom with the following: 1, 2, or 3.  Whichever you think will be funniest or most interesting or what you'd like to read the most.  Whichever topic gets the most votes I'll write about.  I know there are some of you out there that are okay with whatever I write about, but please pick a topic.  My brain is culture shocked.  Be right back.

See you all next week,
Marjorie

Sometimes I actually do my homework.

     Last Thursday, our group went on a field trip to the Mainland Affairs Council. We sat at connecting tables equipped with microphones and pots of hot water for tea. After a few minutes of getting settled, an  official walked in the room, briefly introduced the current relationship between China and Taiwan, and opened the floor to questions. His request was met with a long, awkward silence.

     Looking back, I probably should have done a little of my own research about cross-straight relations   before coming to the Mainland Affairs Council, instead of taking my usual afternoon siesta. But there was nothing I could have done at that point. I had been hoping that our guest speaker would elaborate a little more about the history between China and Taiwan. He did later on, mentioning statistics such as “80 percent of Taiwanese citizens prefer the status quo” and that China and Taiwan “had been through good times and bad times”, but as an American citizen whose historical background is focused mainly on China, these phrases drifted in one ear and out the other. Over the last few weeks, I had seen the relatively high standards of living

and education many Taiwanese enjoy. I spent the past two weekends interviewing Taiwanese students to go work and travel in the United States, and I share a dorm room with three Taiwanese girls. It seemed to me that the average young Taiwanese person knows a significant amount about Western countries, while China, the economic behemoth directly to the north, remains somewhere in the back of his or her mind. I felt myself being roped in with the eighty percent of Taiwanese citizens: the situation between China and Taiwan had reached a tenuous cordiality. Why change anything?

     At last, one of my classmates asked a question in Mandarin, and the official responded in English. I was inspired by her effort to incorporate Chinese in real life setting, so I did the same.  I turned on the microphone in front of me.

     “Hello,” I said in Chinese.

     “Hello,” the official responded, also in Chinese. He then switched to English. “I hope that’s not all you can say in Chinese.”

     I suddenly felt as though I was alone in the room with this condescending official. He didn’t even wait for me to blunder through a question before assuming I couldn’t ask a coherent question in Mandarin.

     I don’t remember the first question I asked, but as I far as I could tell the exchange between us went relatively smoothly. My second question, which I also asked in Mandarin, proved to be a disaster.

     “How did you develop an interest in the relationship between China and Taiwan?”

     This question is a little awkwardly phrased in English, and even more so in Chinese, but I didn’t know how to say cross-straight relations, so I figured I would work around it. This strategy was not the wisest one: there was cultural ambassador sitting right in front of me. I could have written down my question and asked a native speaker for her help. But I didn’t. And now I was in a situation where I wasn’t understood, and the result was not getting plain dumplings instead of the spicy ones I wanted. I was proving this jerk right—maybe my language skills weren’t up to snuff.

     Everyone else seemed to understand my question, and a few of the other cultural ambassadors repeated what I said, hoping to clarify the situation, to no avail. He took the last two characters of my question, （兴趣, the word for “interest”）and changed them into a word I didn’t recognize. He asked me if his new word was what I meant, and I nodded eagerly, hoping he would answer my question and be done with it. He gave a slightly more detailed history of cross-straight relations, which was informative, but didn’t answer my question. I left the question and answer session miffed and deflated.

     On the way back, I talked to Angel, one of the graduate students I have bilingual sessions with once a week. As a native New Yorker who talks quickly in English, I find comfort in his “machine gun Mandarin”, as he jokingly calls it. The Taiwanese linger over their vowels, and insert extra vowels when there isn’t necessarily a grammatical need for one. Angel, a native Malaysian, does not do this when he speaks. He plows through one word after another, never bothering to spend more time on one syllable that absolutely necessary. The result is that the syllables merge together, forcing the listener to pick out the important words, thereby gauging his overall meaning. Because Angels is not Taiwanese, I felt a little more comfortable telling Angel exactly what I thought of the official. Angel eagerly validated my complaints, but also gave me some important cultural insights. No one had bothered asking the official anything because they already knew that he would not offer any of his own personal opinions. His speech would be just information that could be accessed by newspapers. I realized then that the official had deliberately sidestepped my question under the guise of a language barrier, because I had bothered to ask about his own personal life outside of his credentials. Angel told me not to worry about not being understood, because he and the other cultural ambassadors were happy to see me try I still felt snubbed, but I was glad I had someone like Angel to help me learn from my cultural faux pas and to encourage me to keep speaking Chinese in spite of my mistakes.

     I have a midterm this week. I am going to study hard, because I want to remember the proper grammar patterns and correct ways of phrasing questions in order to be ready for my next close encounter of the Taiwanese kind.