By the way, the French is because TWO of my cousins are learning it! Hurray! Slowly, we will take over Taiwan with a dying (not from a linguist’s standpoint) language…
So, let’s see. Oh, on VENDREDI, we also went to the hospital. Sister 3 works in the library at MacKay Hospital in Taipei, so we stopped by her office because she took off a half-day, and then we went to visit my great-uncle in the hospital. Kidney stones, I believe. He is married to my grandmother’s youngest sister. It turned into a small family reunion, as various people poured in, including my great-uncle (grandmother’s younger brother) and his wife, my mom’s cousin (daughter of the invalid), and us. The wife of the great-uncle (see, in Chinese, there are all these terms to describe these relations–whereas in English, you end up with relatives called, “Mrs. Uncle Jimmy’s Wife”) was rather preoccupied with Steve Jobs, having just read his biography. Or something. I wasn’t completely paying attention.
SAMEDI, 12 juillet 2008
For lunch, we have Pizza Hut and KFC. But it’s good, because Taiwanese versions of American fast food often smells better. At least, I really liked the pizza crust (but beware–if you get the seafood pizza, it’ll have sweet mayonnaise, which is quite revolting!) that we had. My mom and I also walked through the market nearby, and DEAR LORD the Taiwanese people walk slowly! I thought that, since we were in a big city, we would be slow tortoises among ambitious hares. NO. They’re SLOW. I hate slow walkers 
I saw a man walking around holding what looked like a Hello Kitty compact, which was odd, because a) it would have been a rather large compact and b) um. Why? Later on, I saw someone else with the same contraption, but from a different angle, and realized it was a portable fan. Clever! But Hello Kitty? Not so much. That night, we went to a pretty famous Night Market. I think my parents used to go on dates here, but I could be mistaken, because really, my parents? Anyway, I had what would be translated as, “Big Bread around Little Bread.” Maybe. It was good. Much better than my translation. We also discussed my great-uncle’s wife, whose hair was rather unattractively permed in the latest fashion: cornsilk. I asked, “Why would she wear her hair like that?” Lee mama’s response: “She’s depressed.”
DIMANCHE, 13 juillet 2008
We pick up Jon, but he’s late. They had gotten in at 2 in the morning, having gathered in central Taiwan for the big performance/shin-dig thing Joyce and I both went to three years ago. (Aborigine dance! Yeah! Pictures later…) We go shopping at a department store, which, to my understanding, is kind of the main event, in contrast to American malls, which include department stores, but also other (perhaps more exciting) stores. I used to hate department stores when I was little, but Taiwanese ones are much more fun. There are 10 stories (above which there are tens of floors of offices) with your typical department store offerings, but also usually a floor with a bookstore, several floors of food options (supermarket, food court, &c.), and ARTS & CRAFTS! When I was younger, I always hoped we’d have time to stop and do some sort of project, but in the whirlwind of family, that never happened. Now, I’m too old and…not creative. Highlights? Um. There was a display of “California scents.” For the home, I think. It was rather bizarre to see all these place names from home, especially in conjunction with the scents with which they were each associated. For instance: Los Angeles Lavender. Don’t shoot the messenger, Mik! That night, we had shabu-shabu, which is Japanese hot pot. It’s named thusly because pick up a piece of meat (sliced thinly, but not so thin as carpaccio) and sweep it through the bubbling broth in one direction (shabu ) and then in the other with just a flick of the wrist (shabu ), and that’s how long it takes to cook! There were plenty of other offerings on hand (I love Taiwanese cabbage. It’s somehow much more flavorful than American!) to cook in the hot pot, and it was that night that I decided, I will never challenge anyone to an eating contest again. I left alimentarily exhausted. Um, also. This has never happened to me before, but…I got a chopstick cramp. Seriously. Later, we saw one of those Japanese-inspired gameshows. The segment we watched involved using someone’s head as a mallet…to pop balloons. Awesome.
LUNDI, 14 2008
Hey! Bastille Day! Anyway, time to head to the mountains, where my dad’s family lives. We stop by a famous dam (much more scenic than Hoover Dam, but that might be due to the greenery). Some berries had dropped from a tree in the parking lot, and my mom made a point to say, “Hey, Cindy…look! Pop!” Yeah, she said pop. It made me think of the Facebook group about going out of your way to step on a crunchy leaf. There were many signs for restaurants selling “Live Fish,” a regional specialty, but it’s unclear to me whether you got to point to a fish that they would prepare for you, or if you would be eating something whose heart might still be beating, because we stopped at a roadside…uh…shack. They offered us “free-range chicken [in Taiwan, this isn't as yuppie as in San Francisco], mountain boar, wild greens, and mountain rodents.” To eat. It wasn’t a particularly hygienic locale, but we put on a brave face because my aunt was so grossed out, and hey, at least I’m not Tony Bourdain. Then, home. (My grandma’s home, but it’s been drummed into me since I was little that it’s my home, because, you know, my last name is Lee.) Peach season is in full swing, so my grandmother and her next-door neighbor were selling the fruit out back. The neighbor, the first to see us, called out, “Really? Is that you, Cindy? You’ve gotten so fat I could barely recognize you!” Thankyouverymuch. In the mountains, it’s cooler, but there are also a lot of…insects.
MARDI, 15 juillet 2008
In the 20 hours I’ve been in this village, I have acquired 15 mosquito bites. I keep count throughout the day. By the night, I’ve given up, having 11 just on one arm. Oh yes, that’s right. My index fingers have two each. Sounds like an exciting life, right? This is where my father grew up, and I love my grandmother, but with her so busy with the peaches (which the aborigines drop off by the truckload), there is not much for us to do. We do go bai-bai today, which is actually kind of late, because usually, it’s one of the first things we do when we get to Taiwan. But, usually, we go to the mountains first thing (the Lee side takes precedence, you see), whereas this time, we were in Taipei for several days (also, we were staying with Sister 3’s family, who is Christian. It’s odd…I’ve discovered all these Christian relatives…) before going home. Anyway, I’ve come to realize that, if asked what my religion is, the proper answer is, “I’m Taiwanese.” It’s not a Chinese thing–the Chinese aren’t allowed to be religious, remember? It’s kind of a Buddhist and Daoist thing, but ultimately, it’s cultural. Eastern religions are much more cultural, not relegated to only one day a week or two holidays a year–one of the reasons why Christianity was at first embraced in India, where worship is a daily ritual, and “God” is one more idol to whom you pay your respects. Anyway, when you bai-bai, (and here’s a related article), you light incense and pray to the deity or your ancestor (we did both; there are particular deities whose pagodas we visit, as well as the ancestral Lee home where we honor my great-grandmother, whose favorite grandson was Lee Papa). After telling them (silently) who you are, where you live, and whose child you are, you thank them for protecting you. Then, you ask for things. Like good grades and world peace. If this sounds pedestrian rather than spiritual, it’s because I received these instructions while in elementary school, and now my family assumes I know how to do it, so I’ve never really been taught how to be um…holier in the process. And you know, a lot of people do go to temples around the time of national exams (kind of like the guy whose grandfather hired 1,000 people in India to pray for spelling bee success day and night, but slightly less neurotic–Punal and Varsha will understand and be able to explain this reference) to pray for deliverance. At the end of your prayer, you place the incense in special urns in front of the deity/ancestor’s portrait, which is why it’s so rude to stick your chopsticks straight up in your food–it’s reminiscent of the incense, which implies that the person dining across from you is deceased. You also bring offerings of fruit and/or sweets, which, after the praying, you take home and eat. It’s a bit odd to me, but don’t worry, the deities are not left without sustenance, for we also bring them money. You also bring stacks of gold paper, and in order for the spirits to be able to use the money, you have to burn it. It’s god-money, not mortal-money. Speaking of spirits, temple doors tend to have these high thresholds because the spirits, they don’t walk. They float. We mere mortals must hurdle over them gracefully, but when my great-aunt (married to the older brother of Lee Papa’s biological father, who also had EIGHT sisters) entered, she had to hang onto the doorframe to keep from falling. This trip has been kind of melancholic, because our older relatives are all…older. The great-uncle (married to one of the sisters) who used to drive us around everywhere is limping around with a bad knee. His car still smells the same. My grandmother has a bad leg. We don’t see them for three years, and then we see very intimately how hobbled their daily routines become. Still, my grandmother is a businesswoman. And her business is thriving, so it’s hard to convince her to leave it behind and move in with us. I stay up late looking at my dad’s old pictures.
MERCREDI, 16 juillet 2008
Lee Mama and I had planned to go for a walk on this day and take pictures of the magnificent scenery. It’s where my dad grew up. There’s a nice new bridge, which lies next to a rickety foot-bridge my mom was always scared of crossing, for good reason; my dad knew of people who would pitch over drunkenly into the water in the dark, never to be seen again. Oh yes, the alcoholics. The Taiwanese aboriginal communities face many of the same problems as the American Indians, with inordinate levels of poverty and alcoholism. Our village works closely with these “Mountain People,” especially my grandmother, and there is some hope for a much brighter future than what my dad saw in his youth, like the little boys abused by the Catholic priest to whose care they had been entrusted in the forest further in the mountains. Yeah. There are Catholics in the Taiwanese mountains! And even in Lee Papa’s youth, they were already abusing little boys! Sorry. I didn’t mean to poke fun; it’s really quite sad. And yet, oddly relevant to current American happenings. Anyway, we didn’t end up strolling anywhere, because the typhoon was coming, so my great-uncle suggested we leave on Wednesday rather than our planned Thursday, so as to avoid the sogginess. It was really hard to leave my grandmother, particularly because we could barely have a proper farewell amidst the peach sales, but it might be better that it was curtailed rather than prolonged. This was by far my shortest trip to the mountains, but I was helpful (though fat), and folded at least 100 boxes for the peaches–very beautiful giftboxes, not like Costco cartons–and you know…fed the local mosquito hordes. Then, there was the descent. First, we had to visit my dad’s cousin in Taoyuan. Her three daughters (there might have been a fourth, but I heard whispers that it had been aborted, and it’s quite ridiculous to me, because when you’re that fertile, but you don’t want more children, surely you ought to take better preventative measures! Also, it’s always odd for me to hear the Taiwanese discuss what my mind categorizes as “liberal” procedures. But, that’s for another time.) are very accomplished, memorizing ancient texts, winning art contests, and the like. Actually, it’s just the oldest daughter. She said that the second one was slightly addled, but I think she was exaggerating…and because the oldest (who’s in elementary school, by the way) is so much more advanced. After that foray, it was onto the youngest great-aunt’s visit. Huge seafood lunch, which we weren’t expecting, having thought we would simply be deposited at the High Speed Rail station. Then, the great-aunt’s home (which makes her sound super old, but really, her son’s only a year older than I am), where the sisters discussed politics and family drama. We finally made it to the station, and HECK YEAH, BRING HIGH SPEED RAIL TO CALIFORNIA! It’s spectacular!
JEUDI, 17 juillet 2008
This revelation rightfully began the day before, but dear lord, the baby (BABY!) is THREE! He walks, he talks…he screams. My youngest cousin is separated from the next oldest cousin by twelve years (one full zodiac round!), the only one at home with the grandparents, and is kind of spoiled. Not too much, as his parents (my mom’s younger brother and his wife) and grandparents (my maternal grandparents) don’t mean to, but…he is so cute. And little! Unfortunately, he’s going through a phase where he demands to be near his mother all the time, wants her to feed him, and SCREAMS if he doesn’t get his way. I know, I know. I went through this, too. But, I was 8 months young. Oh, and Lee Papa is calling everyday. I think he’s kind of bored at home, as he has taken to recounting the plot of Korean dramas to Lee Mama (we left right in the middle of one, I guess) during their conversations. Other highlight: INTERNET! YES! Sister 3, as stated, doesn’t want the Internet in her home for the time being, and in the mountains, it’s just these two old ladies at home who never touch the computer. So, after eight days away, I’m back on the grid!
Next couple of days
More of the same. I’m on the egg farm, with a three-year-old as my only companion. It’s chill. We look at old pictures of Lee Mama, who cringes. Huge family luncheon on Sunday–when this happened three years ago, I was at the table with all the boy cousins. All of them are old, now, though (the oldest is 27, I believe), and didn’t come…so I sat with the little ones this time. There was much more food leftover this time around.
MERCREDI, 23 juillet 2008
Time to go to Hualien! Fun fact: the eastern coast of Taiwan has rocky beaches, while the western coast of Taiwan has sandy beaches. I hope we get to go to the beach this time around, but before we do, it’s High Speed Rail from Taichung (central Taiwan) to Taipei (northern Taiwan), followed by train to Hualien.
JEUDI, 24 juillet 2008
Now we’re back to the present. My cousin is watching Forrest Gump behind me, so I think I’m going to keep Internetting, as I don’t like all the sad parts
