there are aspects...

"this is the day that the Lord has made"
or so the saying goes.

that i truly, deeply miss about my home in temecula. not just california, and not just temecula, but my actual house - the back yard specifically. i strongly believe that every great childhood requires a great back yard. far too many children are without one here. this is probably because they spend 13 hours of the day in school.

i was thinking today about how i've been living the past 4 months with no moments of silence. one can always here people, cars, the whirring of fans, the tinkling of store door bells, the murmur of conversation wherever one goes. it's difficult to block out the white noise, though i've tried. and i realize how very much i miss spring mornings in that house. when i have gotten up early enough there, i have experienced mornings when time actually seemed to stop. when i can't hear traffic or people, because everyone's still asleep, and i can't hear the main roads when so few cars are on them. the windows in our kitchen face directly at a hill over which, if you catch it on a clear morning, has a perfect and breathtaking sunrise. the light slowly peeps over the hills and bounces off the trees, the flowers, and the quiet homes on the other side of the gully separating our house from the rest of meadowview. the air still has a piercing cold bite to it, but the coffee forces the cold to the surface of my body. the cold air and mist around me softly kisses my hands and face. the sunshine slowly melts the cold away, and illuminates the dew on the grass, leaving before me a glistening carpet of deep green. the kind of green that makes me think of more than freshness or my favorite sweater or of eyes. but a profound green, which almost lures me into resolving myself to only eating organic and inherently useful things. of never looking at anything processed or metallic again. and as the sun slowly metamorphoses from a faint pink to a bolder blue, i start to awaken from my trance and think about my day and my responsibilities.

many a time have i thought, especially as i've gotten older, about the stillness of those mornings. here, i long for those mornings. for the taste of the coffee, for the warmth of a soft sweater wrapped around me. i long for the ability to be still in those moments. to just be, and to know that He is. how i long for them. i think that when i return, i will make it a point to have a first morning just like that.

so funny, i can't even handle it sometimes

lately, i've been having so much fun at work. over the past few months, i feel that my ability to communicate with my kindergarten students has greatly improved. i've started to figure out how they think and how they will respond to the things i say. as a result, i now have a few of them latched onto me at every turn. this makes my day considerably better. i'm also feeling less frustrated with their naughtiness or the controlled chaos that is a kindergarten classroom, and starting to see the humor in the way they behave. today, i laughed so hard in my music and movement class, i could barely compose myself long enough to get my kids back into a line.

why?
i have a relatively new student named carlos. well, teacher chris and i picked that name out for him, and if you could see or talk to him, you would agree that it's perfectly appropriate. i'll admit that i didn't like him at first, but he's grown on me a lot. i'd be lying if i said his borderline insanity makes my day truly glorious. carlos is probably the smallest kid in the whole school. he's 3 years old, and his motor skills have only begun to develop into something constructive. he also has a speech impediment, which he may or may not grow out of. today, i was singing and dancing to some songs with about 20 of the kindergarten students, when we got to "3 little monkeys." for those who don't know it, i've posted the lyrics for you:
three little monkeys jumping on a bed
one fell off and bumped his head
momma called the doctor and the doctor said
"no more little monkeys jumping on the bed!"
(continue with 2, then with 1)

as you might imagine, the actions are pretty straightforward. we show "3" fingers, then pretend that they are jumping on a "bed." we show "1" finger, pretend that it has fallen off the "bed," then pretend to bop ourselves in the head. we pretend to talk on the phone for "momma called the doctor and the doctor said." and for the last line, we shake our heads, wave our arms to emphasize "no," then stomp on the word "bed." unfortunately, some of my younger students, carlos included, don't exactly have the words down. for him, it comes out kinda like "three laeg mooonnksss juuuuuu beeeed. ooonnn fffeeee ooooooo..." you get the idea. he tries so hard, and i love him for it. unfortunately, he also doesn't quite have the motor skills to do some of the actions, though he does his best. but watching him do it today, i couldn't contain my laughter. he put his hands up, showing a random assortment of fingers that was supposed to be "3" while he pretended to sing. he had such a fierce gleam in his eye as he sang... he was being completely serious about this song, determined to show me that he could do it better than the other students. he bore his teeth and bulged his eyes, showing immense concentration, but the effect was absolutely hilarious. when it got to the part where we're supposed to bop ourselves on the head, most of the students understood that you're not really hitting yourself... you're just pretending, and thus, they cushion the blow. not carlos, though. he full-on, full-force, proceeded to smack himself in the head every single time. with the ferocity of his gaze and the force with which he hit himself, i thought perhaps he didn't feel it at all, though he nearly knocked himself over a few times. at this point, i was barely concentrating on my own actions, because i couldn't get over the fact that he was actually hitting himself. he got through "momma called the doctor and the doctor said" fairly well, though he looked positively furious when he said the words. then come the last few words, everybody's favorite because of the stomping. carlos completely bipassed the words and the head-shaking actions, and poised himself for the stomp. he stood on one foot, his pointed hand raised high in the air, anticipating the stomping part. he then brought his foot down full-force, looking both fatigued and incredibly proud of himself for doing the song... only it was a good quarter of a beat after everyone else.

there are countless other moments like this in class. the tearful pleading "teacher, don't want!" when we tell them we will take away their cool cards. students who hoard all their food in their mouths because they don't want to eat. i have one students who likes to pretend he's a car. with others, there are inside jokes, buzz words and phrases, and of course the threat of taking away dodgeball. who knows? the world just might fall to pieces without dodgeball on a friday. perhaps it's cruel, but at least it motivates them enough to finish their essays and pass their tests. ah, sweet, all-too-precious leverage.

i have to get a video and pictures of them, because they're priceless. with teacher chris, mrt rides to and from chinese class are all stories about what kids said and did, sometimes interspersed with fits of laughter that make telling the story difficult. i often feel that i've given up all control of my life, as it's really impossible to make my students do anything. perhaps this is but a small glimpse of what it's like to be a parent. but since i can't force them to do anything they don't want to do to make my life easier, i just hope for mostly favorable outcomes, and generally laugh to keep from crying. i find that the laughter makes it nearly impossible to cry most of the time, or to fathom a more fun job than the one i have. i suppose they're all helping me to see the humor in what i do, despite my chronic perfectionism. it's going to be really hard to leave next year.

i expected better of you, rowling.

"just because you can doesn't mean you should."
or so the saying goes.

yes, i do realize that i'm 22 and still i enjoy harry potter, though little do i care. to those of you who think less of me, in my defense, i am currently reading one hundred years of solitude. this is mostly because i love marquez, but perhaps stems a little from my need to pacify the little voice in my head that's demanding tolstoy, claiming that i've been feeding the pop culture part of my brain too much lately. to be fair, i don't go anywhere near the general fiction section. that should count for something.

also, on a semi-related topic, life of pi was exceedingly disappointing. it's only good because the story is extraordinary. the mystery of how pi ever survived his adventure carries the whole thing, not the writing, which is trite at best. i thought martel began well when i was reading his prologue. trying to impress upon his audience the shock of his story, he writes that the frail old man who told him about pi described it as, "a story that will make you believe in God." this intrigued me. what a profoundly unusual way to put something. yet, i'm afraid that the writing really doesn't do it justice.

other than life of pi, my meanderings through marquez, and finally finishing in cold blood and the weight of glory, many of you know that i completed the entire harry potter series here in taiwan. i was deeply impressed with all the books, writing about why i think christians are foolish and superficial to dismiss her writing as they do - why it shows a stunted, undeveloped understanding of literature to be hindered at the surface rather than actually absorbing the underlying themes. it's this, along with so many things, that annoys me about christian sub-culture. that we watch inferior films rather than deeply, movingly beautiful ones because of a sex scene or some swearing. that we accept mediocre music and nothing more. that we hearken only to the past glories of western art, but sometimes fail to recognize the technically simplistic, but philosophically complex art of our own generation.

i could go on and on, because there's so much i can say to reprove the christian perception of harry potter that it would probably take another few posts or 10 or a thesis to do so. as i desire not to write that much, i'm going to skip down to why, despite my vehement defense of harry, i am exceedingly disappointed with j.k. rowling right now.

to those who haven't, i suggest you read this article. it came as both a shock and as a fulfillment of something i half-expected to happen: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071020/ap_on_en_ot/books_harry_potter

i know you're all expecting me to withdraw my approval. that is, after all, the christian standard. but my disapproval has nothing to do with dumbledore's supposed homosexuality. i am frustrated... nay, confounded... nay, hopelessly let down by rowling's choice to reveal this. if i've learned anything from my b.a. in literature, it's that the best writing is often the most ambiguous, the type that keeps you (the reader) coming back and asking over and over what it is they really meant. this is not because the writing is incomplete or vague. a person with any significant experience in literary interpretation would deign to give it a second thought if it were. no, i am talking about the writing that is woven so compellingly, that is often so complex, that we care enough to ask these questions.
was hamlet really as mad as he seemed?
is milton's greatest work obviously and debilitatingly anti-feminist, or is it profoundly complimentary to women?
virginia, is it simply your madness that led to this?
hedda, why are you so tragically intriguing?
for the love of God, john fowles, do allison and nick ever get back together?
they're silly questions because every story is, in its own way, complete. but great literature, worthwhile literature, raises questions which, even though we know how the story ended, we want to answer because their writing entranced us into caring. though answering them never ultimately changes the story, we still feel that some seemingly innocuous questions matter. we have to understand.

and of all the great questions that might have been raised about harry potter in the future, i am saddened to know that rowling killed them all with her little comment. with her need to make a point, whether it was a stance for tolerance or simply a glorified middle finger to the christian community, she has destroyed a great many debates and questions that might have been asked about her writing. questions that future students would have thought mattered, because it's never exactly clear.

and i find it to be an even further devastating blow in that it truly matters little to the story. though he believed whole-heartedly in love, that it had to become a particular kind bothers me. dumbledore, the asexual dumbledore that i've been reading about in the stories, is great simply because his sexuality is so ambiguous. we start to ask ourselves the usual questions. is he a metaphor for God? what about his love for grindewald? is it a homosexual love, or is it tragic because it was a david-jonathan love? a friendship beyond others, that was destroyed because of power? if he was straight, is there evidence to support it? or was it his troubled past that simply polluted his intimacy with others? but she's answered all these questions for us, leaving us little to ponder and not actually changing the story at all.

since i read this article, my mind has wandered through the many ways rowling could have made a statement with her characters without choosing dumbledore. despite voldemort's inability to feel for anyone besides himself, was bellatrix in love with him, in a twisted, emotionally perverted sort of way? as far as homosexuality goes, i think there's far more evidence to support that sirius black harbored an attraction to james. why dumbledore, rowling? you had so much more ammunition. one of the most interesting, compelling characters in your story, one worthy of thought and debate, and you had to simplify him so.




john fowles once commented on the fan mail he received upon publishing "the magus." one woman vented her frustration, and demanded that he "just say what [he] means!" long did he ponder her opinion, but ultimately decided that the beauty was that he didn't answer all the questions for his readers. these things were left for them to argue about, to decide for themselves. he was partially making a point, in that nothing is ever completely "happily ever after" the way it is in most stories. there are seasons of happiness and seasons of despair, a mixture of good an evil, of love and hate, of clarity and ambiguity. and to simply lay it out for us one way or the other cheapens the human experience.

as many times as i've wished i had the answers, i am certain that worthwhile writing begs to be examined and re-examined. there oughtn't be a quick-and-easy answer, because if it were that simple, we'd fall to madness. a single human being is never simple to identify or label. all the world isn't separated into neat categories for us, in order for us to see plainly why people behave as they do. and the way i see it, the more literature reflects this reality and can still keep me caring, the better.

the stuff good stories are made of

"in the struggle for survival, the fittest win out at the expense of their rivals"
or so the saying goes.

last weekend, i decided the time had come for me to venture outside taipei. certainly, i'd been to taichung before, but i'd never visited southern taiwan, much less taken a weekend trip since i arrived in june. then fate smiled upon me in the form of other peoples' general restlessness. as chad is leaving in about 3 weeks, he's been really keen on making the most of his last days here. because we celebrated 10/10 last week, he took advantage of the holiday to go to kenting, a beach town very near the southernmost tip of taiwan. he invited chris and me to come along. while chris was busy with mormon stuff this weekend, i thought it would make a good excuse for me to get out of town for a while. though i would be arriving 3 days later, at least i would know someone there to explore/get into mischief with. furthermore, mitch and his friend sam were heading down there for an extended holiday as well, and as the proverb goes, the more the merrier. when i'm involved, however, it is always an adventure. this is a fact i must always establish, assess, and accept every time i leave the house. establish, because i know how things go. assess, mostly monetarily. how much can i afford the mishaps that will undoubtedly come? and accept, because 99% of the situation is how you deal with it. some say it's the law of attraction at play, but i call it mostly blind luck.

i made my way down to kaoschung early saturday morning. well, early is a relative term. actually it was mid-morning, but the cool thing is that taiwan has already established a high speed rail system, which makes a trip across the entire country merely 1.5 hours of relaxation and countryside. i got into kaoschung before noon, hoping to catch a bus to kenting within the hour and get there by the early afternoon. because i had no idea where anything is, i took a cab, who seemed to mostly understand what i was telling him. unfortunately, mostly isn't quite good enough when asking for the bus station, because he took me to the dodgiest bus depot i've ever seen. and i've seen some dodgy bus depots. i got out and cringed a little, wondering how i was ever going to find a way to kenting, when another friendly bus driver who was on break, noticed my apparent befuddlement and asked me if i needed help. his english was minimal, but i managed to convey to him that i wanted to go to kenting.
wo yao qu kenting.
he pointed to what looked like a city bus, and told me that was a good way to get there. great, i thought. my new-found friend then told the city bus driver where i wanted to go, i purchased a ticket, and hesitantly boarded a bus headed toward oblivion. yes, oblivion. i had no idea where it was going or if i was even going the right way.
this might be a good time to note that while it takes you 1.5 hours to get 90% of the way to kenting, it takes approximately 3 to travel the remaining 10%. southern taiwan is nothing like my world in taipei. taipei is lively and busy. the world of southern taiwan is... desolate... void of human occupancy. the bus stopped at non-bus-stops, and people kept getting on and off at random. i planted myself in my chair, and told myself over and over that, no matter where this bus was going, as long as i didn't leave, i wouldn't be lost in the middle of nowhere. even if i ended up back in kaoschung, at least i could find sign of human life there. my 3 hour trip went something like... shack... shack... bus stop... shack... oh, 7-11!... field... mountain... shack. and on and on until we reached the coast. from this point on, it would be a matter of figuring out which sparsely-populated beach civilization was supposed to be kenting, the so-called tourist capital of southern taiwan. furthermore, chad wasn't answering his phone. he knew i would be coming into town, but i heard nothing from him. i resolved myself to the fact that i would have a good time no matter what, even if i was my only company.

finally, my bus driver pulled over to a non-descript bus stop and nodded in my direction. the thicker crowds of people outside and my semi-useful map in lonely planet taiwan seemed to indicate that this was, in fact, kenting. i stepped outside and found my way to the nearest coffee shop, where i pondered my next plan of attack. let's see... chad wasn't answering his phone, i didn't have mitch's number, and i didn't have a place to stay. first priority was figuring out where i could stay, then devising a way to get a hold of my comrades. the luxury of being in reach to teach is that, while i didn't have mitch's contact information, someone else in my phone was bound to. and! i was lucky enough to find that person. unlike chad, whose phone died, mitch answered his phone and told me that they were at a shooting range, but that they would call me when they came back for dinner. that left only the hotel. despite the fact that kenting is in virtually the middle of nowhere, there is a slough of hotels there. surely, one of them would have a place to stay. unfortunately, at the first 20 i tried, i got an unhappy result:
duibuqi, wo yao fangjian. ni you meiyou yi ge?
yi ge fangjian jiu?
dui. wo yao shuijiao.
meiyou!
aiyo!
this went on nearly an hour until one of the hotel owners was kind enough to call some friends and find me an open room. i had a place to stay and i had reached the guys, so i was good. onto the beach! kenting is arguably the most beautiful place i've visited here. the beach was serene and extremely clean. there are no waves here, and it's surprising how peaceful it is when you can barely hear the feeble crashing of the waves on the beach. i had some good music, and paced up and down, in and out of the water for almost 2 hours. the beach made me feel connected once again to california and all the feelings associated with it. for the first time in a while, i felt like myself again. i really must visit the beach more often.

mitch broke the silence when he called, and i made my way over to their hotel, where i found 3 disheveled men... chad the worst of them all. apparently, through an unexpected twist of events in his own schedule, he had come to kenting with only one change of clothes. this had led him to purchase new underwear just that morning and the best shirt ever. it was a muscle tank with a skinny boy on it flexing his muscles. at the bottom it said "i'm number 1!" i could tell he hadn't bothered to shave in days. tired though i was after my day of travel, i was happy to see them all, and they disclosed their plans for the evening. dinner. night market. possibly a club, a pub, or ktv. beach. hookah. not necessarily in that order. those who know me well also know i'm game for anything, so i told them to lead the way. we wandered through the nightmarket, exploring hand-made crafts and unusual clothes, and playing with the idea of a henna tattoo. i still think i'm going to get one, if only to experiment with how exactly i feel about having something marked on my body. our wanderings eventually led to a nearby pub, where we ordered a large hookah and a few pitchers of beer. i had one of the loveliest conversations i've experienced in months that night. starting over is something i need in my life. i give second chances generously, and grasp any opportunity to build from new chances. after hours of conversation at the pub, we made our way back to the boys' room, where mitch and i stayed up all night watching the rugby world cup and the colbert report... chad and sam made it through some, but couldn't muster the willpower to stay awake the whole time. even i faded in and out. i trudged home rather tired around 5:30am, where i slept on a very hard mattress.

the next day brought many adventures. it began with a quiet breakfast and a morning at the beach, a few hours of shopping and exploring, and then an eventual scooter rental. this time, however, i did not crash it. i found a shop, and the proprietor asked me several times if i'd ever driven one before. yes, i said. yes, i'm a foreign woman, but i have driven one. unfortunately, it didn't look very good that i couldn't remember where the brake was, but she hesitantly handed the scooter over, and i got the hang of it quickly. i drove up and down the coast, attempting to understand the arbitrary traffic rules and praying to God that i wouldn't get stranded. when i came back to familiarity, mitch called and asked if i was up for something. i told him i had planned to take another bus ride from hell back to kaoschung in the late afternoon so that i could catch a train back to taipei. well, he said, he and sam were going to stop at the aquarium and then drive back to kaoschung, so i may as well go with them, right? at least i'd have company, and it would be a new experience. i agreed that it sounded like the way to go.

in theory, that is.

we left the aquarium when it closed, hoping to get back to kaoschung in two hours. unfortunately, after a few wrong turns and way too much time at dinner, we did not get back into town until 9:30. we returned our scooters and dawdled back to the train station, only to discover that the last high speed train had left at... 9:30. we were screwed. the next train back to taipei wasn't high speed and wasn't leaving until 11:30. this meant arrival in taipei around 5:30 or 6:00. or we could wait for the next hs train in the morning, but that would bring us into taipei too late, and sam and i wouldn't make it to work on time. this left the bus. a 4 hour ride that couldn't possibly be too hard to secure, right? well, you would think it wouldn't be difficult, but it was. it felt like the entire city wanted a night bus. terrible thoughts kept running through my mind. what if we were stuck here all night? what if we couldn't take the first hstrain out in the morning? what if we were stuck here all day tomorrow as well, and i had to explain my irresponsibility to my boss? how screwed, exactly, would i be? after an hour of searching and being put on waiting lists, i was beginning to lose hope, though i tried to maintain a positive exterior. sam wasn't talking altogether because he didn't want to lose it, and mitch was getting more noticeably frustrated by the second. i tried to laugh it off, but my brain was screaming at me. i was so tired. i'd hardly slept at all the entire weekend, and i would have to be energetic for my kids the nenxt day. finally, when we thought we might not find anything, we found two separate buses. i went by myself, while they waited for the later bus out. i think mitch felt bad, as it was based on his guarantee of speedy transport back to taipei that we arrived in kaoschung so late. needless to say, i didn't get home until about 5a.m. i slept for 2 1/2 hours, then got myself to work. it was a long day, especially since i have chinese on monday nights, but i kept telling myself that i was lucky to make it at all.

and that, my friends, was kenting. i can't wait to go back.



on a topic unrelated in even the most remote way, i think my ipod is dead. i don't know how or why this happened. it simply froze. i'm running out the battery right now, hoping that it might unfreeze it. i really haven't been abusive to this ipod, so i'm baffled as to what happened to it. but it's almost 3 years old and therefore, will have to be replaced in the not-too-distant future. i'm hoping it can't hear me. sometimes i hate technology.

also, i don't normally talk about music here, and it's been a long time since i've said anything, but... well... i really, really love anberlin's semi-new album "cities." i've been following them on and off since i was a freshman in college, and i'm extremely impressed with the quality of their music over the years. what began as merely an attempt to depart from stereotypical mainstream christian music has led to some truly beautiful songwriting. high five, stephen christian.

sentences you might hear often

"those who can, do. those who can't, teach."
or so the saying goes.

this week, i realized something when a student decided to imitate me in class. it was rather harmless, since she is 3 years old. it was in the middle of my art class, when some of my students were getting a little unruly. it doesn't take much for them to completely lose interest in our art projects. we were supposed to make spiders, and they decided that it was more fun to throw the spiders at each other than to try to stick legs on them. anyway. i was telling some of them to sit down, and one of my students piped up, "okaaaayyyyy, sit down! now! 1. 2. 3..." i stood there in shock for a moment, because she sounded just like me! she imitated not only my voice and expression, but also my posture. huh?

when i was a little girl, my mom used to tell me that she felt like a broken record, telling my brothers and me the same thing day after day after day. i've noticed that being a teacher is not unlike being a mother in this regard. you say a lot of the same things over and over. so i've compiled a list of my most used phrases, in no particular order. i probably say each of these things about 50-100 times a week.

1. ethan...! sit properly!
2. OKAAAYYYYY everybody quiet down!
3. weber, stand up.
4. line up.
5. ethan, shhhhhh.
6. you're a (something)... (after someone has told either one of us an idea is stupid/nonsensical/moronic/illogical, chad and i just say this in response. it drives chris crazy. perhaps that's why we do it)
7. are you ready?!
8. no chinese.
9. wayne/max/andy, stop talking!
10. 1, 2, 3...
and of course
ETHAN!!!

sometimes (and by that i mean often), i do nonsensical things

like today. i ran 5 miles when i got home from chinese class. this is probably because i wanted to demonstrate at least minimal control over my own life. if i can't control the fact that i still have a meeting tomorrow, i'm not getting paid for another 10 days, i have a chinese test in a week, the clothes i washed 36 hours ago still aren't dry, and my children still don't understand what a yellow (or red) line means, i can at least force myself into shape.

...right?

runs are also the times when i have epiphanies about what i'm doing and why, and when i find a renewed sense of purpose in my life. who knew? today's grand realization was that i need to make myself more lists.

"i just want to lie on the beach and eat hot dogs. that's all i've ever wanted."

"happy birthday to you."
or so the saying goes.

my birthday came very suddenly this year. unlike so many years before, this one was not wrought with anticipation or big plans for parties, or with excitement over, finally, being able to go out with friends. of not having to get that stupid, obligatory black stamp on my hand every time i saw kindred fall. this year, it's come a lot like my 18th birthday - without notice. i remember turning 18 very vividly. my new friends all bought me small presents, tokens of their new affection, we had dinner and watched a movie together. i remember it being slightly awkward because, after all, we barely knew each other. honestly, i didn't even expect that much, and i remember feeling very grateful that they all thought of me.

this year, i didn't relish the idea of having to plan anything. why stress in a place i still really don't understand and then spend money i don't have? anyway, i'm going to seek satisfaction in having dinner with a few friends tomorrow night. it should be a lovely way to remember that i'm 22 and that all the awesome birthdays are over.

but, of course, no birthday is incomplete without buying yourself a present, right? when i thought about the things i wanted for my birthday, such a decision wasn't easy. taiwan is absolutely overwrought with clothes and accessories, that i simply feel overwhelmed with all the colors and options. i wanted something unique - something very me.

and then it hit me. of course! the perfect thing to give myself for making it 22 years... arguably 4 years longer than i was supposed to. so, my friends, i have a new piercing. it's been about 3 years since my parents warned me against this. to their credit, they got used to the nose piercing, but when i tried a second one, that was met with resistance. their argument was that, after allowing me to slide on the nose, if they were paying tuition, i needed to respect a few of their rules - no tattoos or piercings. given that they allowed me pretty much every other freedom and they didn't pester me with questions about where i went, what i did, or who i dated, i resisted throughout the rest of college. it was a fair requirement and it was simple. after i had my degree, they told me, i was allowed to do what i pleased. so for birthday 22, i put another hole in my left ear. i like it. i think it's tasteful. but it hurts like hell.

hey-o.

another addition to the list of the (many) stupid things i've done

my weekend. i can safely say that it was legendary - one of those days that i will tell my kids about. also, it was arguably the most terrifying and embarrassing days of my life. i don't really even know where to begin. okay, first things first:
it all begins, my friends, with a guy named chad. i work with chad, and it's a whole lot of glorious. like, he comes up with ideas for (stupid) things to do, but seems to think that such things are better when more people are involved. i'm not much on coming up with (stupid) things to do, but i'll gladly join along if someone's looking for a partner. and thus, adventures in southeast asia ensue. along with bruised backs, indonesian death treks (or maybe that was my idea?), getting caught in torrential downpours in the middle of nowhere, scooter crashes, and a very unclear night involving a hi-life, a curb, and me wondering if he was dead to name a few.

so chad approached chris and me last week, telling us that there's a political rally in taichung (south of where we live), and that a promoter wanted a few foreigners to come down, give a thirty second speech, and sing "we are the world." great, i thought. no big deal. AND they would be paying us NT$1,000 each, which is like $35. SWEET. so chris told us he couldn't come, but i agreed to it. i got to our bus stop in taipei, and chad told me... oh, p.s. (he actually never says "p.s." but i'll pretend he does) i just found out we actually have to give our speeches in chinese, not english. WHAT? he then went on to say that if we couldn't both do it, then one of us would have to speak and represent both of us, at which point i told him it would bloody be him, because I don't speak chinese! unless they wanted to know my name and that i happen to think guotie hen haochi!

so while we were on the bus, i could tell that the coordinator who invited us to this event was unhappy with my decision not to speak. so i told her... okay, if you help me translate a short speech into pinyin and let me take it on stage, i will do it. she agreed, so i decided that i was fine with it so long as i had a crutch.

we got to the event, and while it occupied a large area (a stadium) and it had a large stage, i wasn't really worried. there weren't too many people out there. i told myself, this isn't so bad. i can do this. we ran through a short rehearsal, and i was feeling okay. chad was traipsing through the local political party supporters and bumming souvenirs wherever he could. i suppose some thanks is in order, as he did acquire some snazzy blue shoes for me, the symbol for this political party. actually, i didn't know that there were so many ways to wear blue shoes, but i think i've seen them all after this day. chad also managed to walk away with a taiwanese flag and the coolest hat i've ever seen. the event began about 20 minutes after our souvenir-hunting adventure. and while there were many stools available (not chairs or benches, people. stools), it wasn't all that crowded. no problem, i kept telling myself.

40 minutes elapsed, and i could tell it was rather loud out there, while i was back stage with the other foreigners. they hurriedly told us it was time to go, strapped headset microphones to us, and paraded us out there singing michael jackson. i think this might be a good time to mention that i was also carrying a miniature american flag and waving it proudly for the crowd, amongst my other american, korean, and african comrades. we got out on the stage, and i could't even believe it. there were, no exaggeration, thousands of people out there. it was more people than i've ever seen in my life. and they were all expecting me to say something! at a rally! in chinese! and i don't speak chinese! i was in the midst of global politics, and i had nothing! it was like having one of those frustrating nightmares where you're naked or you can't find what you're looking for or you just... can't... seem to reach... your destination. there i was, standing out there, the stupidity of what i'd agreed to do slowly dawning on me as the girl before me finished her speech, realizing that i had to move - had to make a sound - anything! the other foreigners had nervously given their speeches, including chad, whose speech didn't sound anything like the one he'd read to the rest of us on the car ride to taichung. i slowly strode in front of my foreign companions (the taiwanese are big on moving forward when it's your turn to speak on stage). i had 4 or 5 sentences written on a paper. but i was so nervous that i thought i might just pass out. i've never spoken or performed in front of that many people before! i began my speech: "ni hao! wo shi joy. wo shi meiguoren..." okay, so far, i'm okay, i thought. then i got to an unfamiliar part of my speech: the part where i had to tell them i'm from california. blast! i couldn't remember how to pronounce the word for california! what were the tones again? okay, 3, 1... damn, that's not right! i stumble through it, and look down at the rest of my speech. it was like all the letters were moving. like i'd never seen them before, much less known how to pronounce them! i tried to force a few words out, but the tones were all wrong! it didn't even sound like chinese coming from my mouth! who knows what sort of offensive things i was saying while my tones shifted erratically! i think i was even inventing new tones up there! so i skipped to the end, where i proudly announced: wo ai taiwanren! xie xie!

they clapped, and i finally escaped the stage, where it took me a good 2 minutes to stop shaking. after the event, we were given free transport to one of the local night markets in taichung, and then embarked on a long ride back to taipei.

wow.

what was the political event, you ask? it was a rally to support taiwan's recent bid for a spot in the u.n. they really want to get back in there, something i fully support. also, i got to meet the mayor of taipei, who, people say, will probably be the next president of taiwan. i got pictures with him and everything!

in all, not a bad day. i keep envisioning my children in the future, telling their friends that their mom was crazy when she was young. i don't even know what came over me. who was this person standing in front of what felt like all of taiwan telling people she liked shuijiao??? i'm strangely proud of myself, yet simultaneously horrified.

and that, my friends, was my weekend. changing the face of taiwanese global politics, because i'm sure what i said will have a profound impact on the upcoming election, and especially the u.n.'s decision about admitting taiwan. hey, i do what i can. help their youth build a better future during the week, get involved in politics on the weekend. may as well give back, right? right.

this is marty.

"cleanliness is next to godliness."
or so the saying goes.

so i realized today that i have said scarcely anything about my abode since i moved to taipei in june. to be perfectly honest, it's because i didn't really want you to see it. it's been in a state of semi-madness since i moved here, though it's had its brief moments of relative organization. relative being the operative word, of course.

i feel that i need to say something about why this is so - to explain/defend myself, if you will. you see, this is the first time i've really had my own place, though one could argue that it's still not even mine.

what i mean, though, is that i haven't had my very own space since i moved away from temecula 5 years ago. sure, i had my own room then, but my mother converted it into my brother's bedroom almost immediately after i left. this didn't upset me or anything. i still had 3 brothers living at home, and 2 of them were still sharing, so it only seemed fair that one would get my old room. then brian moved out, and christopher promptly took over his old space. what can i say? my old room has never quite lost its girlish charm or aura, so he couldn't wait to move out. presently, it's a guest room. it's comfortably neutral, neither mine nor anyone else's, though i do stay there when i occasionally come back to temecula. granted, i have to fight brian for it, but it's rare that we're home at the same time.

so since i moved out of my parents' house, i've lived in 7... count 'em... 7 different places. i moved twice my first year at chapman, due to an intolerable living situation. i don't speak of my first room... i think i mostly like to pretend that that first month never existed. i stayed in braden for the rest of the school year, then moved home for the summer. i then moved back to chapman, but had to switch dorms again because a roommate bailed. it was back to braden for a little over half the term, but then i had to leave for london in january. i spent half a year in london, fortunately in the same room, then came back to temecula for 2 months before moving to la casita de limon, where i stayed until i moved to taipei. whew.

in all those places, i always lived in a state of relative residence. i settled in, all the while knowing that my time there was very limited. the closest i've ever come to my own place was la casita de limon, but even then, i was starkly aware that one, i would be leaving after college, two, i didn't want to take up too much space because there were 5 of us crammed in there, and three, i didn't have much money. when i got some, it went into my wardrobe instead of my living space. i've always kept my space in such a way that i could pack it all up within a day if i really wanted to. i kept extra boxes under my bed, and limited my belongings to things i could carry in two suitcases and a carry-on. and always always always, come moving day, everything could be fit into one car. i never got attached to my belongings because, more likely than not, they probably couldn't come to wherever i was going next. and yes, i'm a chronic minimalist.

so here i am in taipei, the same old scenario facing me once again. i'm in a place, but i once again have no intention of staying. come next june, i expect to embark on a new adventure, whatever and wherever that may be. and once again, i expect to pack my life away neatly into two suitcases and a carry-on.

so what exactly happened today? i suppose i realized that my nomadic lifestyle, while exciting, has left me unable to find a place to call home. and today, as i pondered this, i realized how difficult it has become. i thought about how frustrating i was at la casita de limon to have to search through boxes to find some of the things i needed. i thought about how semi-decorated my place always was - how i put my own personality into a little corner of the house, but left almost all the rest of it untouched. i thought about how, in england, i feel like i barely even unpacked - just moved things from suitcases to drawers and back again. and here i am in taipei, the same way. i've been keeping many items simply in a drawer, and other things still haven't been unpacked. like jewelry, for instance. i've taken out what i've worn, but it still gets tucked away into the same little bag that i brought it all in, every single time. and as i've pondered bringing new things into my little hovel, i've always told myself that it's unnecessary because, hey - it probably can't come with me anyway.

but today. today, i snapped. this saturday was just like many of the other saturdays i've had here. i did various chores and laundry, just like i always do, tried to find suitable spaces to hang my wet clothes (this is always a problem for me), then glanced briefly at my bed. i winced a little because it's simply uninviting, no matter how accustomed i am to it, no matter how many nights i've slept well in it. because i had limited packing space, i brought limited bedlinens. i brought one large top sheet that could be tucked into any sized bed (i wasn't sure how large my bed would be), another top sheet - this one twin-sized, and my beloved blue blanket that sarice gave me for my 19th birthday. my bed here, however, is not exactly a double but not exactly a queen either. it is thus far too big for my top red top sheet or sarice's blanket, though the other sheet covers the mattress sufficiently. i've simply moved things around to suit my sleeping needs. today, though, i looked at my bed irritably. it just wasn't enough anymore. my top sheet kept being pulled from under the mattress because it's not designed to be tucked away. i have one pillow, but it's not enough, especially since my bed is made for two. and the other blankets just aren't enough. that's it, i said to myself. i'm going to buy sheets today.

so i went on an adventure in the taipei ikea, which is a whole lot of glorious things all in one space. and as i walked around my private haven, i started to think about the fact that my place really doesn't feel like it's mine at all. i realized that, though i know i have to pack everything up or get rid of it before i leave next june, i'm tired of coming home, but never completely feeling like i'm in a state of rest. i'm tired of feeling like i'm still in a hotel - still living partially out of my bags and never feeling like i have the freedom to personalize my surroundings. so with all the temptations of ikea around me, i caved. and i spent my entire afternoon decorating my apartment. granted, there isn't much space and i'm still a hard-core minimalist, but i had to do something to make my burrow more inviting to myself after a long day at work. having never actually decorated a place on purpose, this was very exciting for me. i've always just pulled together bits and pieces of my other places for each room i've lived in after that. but here - i had the freedom to do something new! so i found some fun items in the colors the suit me best - red, green, and black. i guess if i have to get rid of most of it when i leave, so be it. but for the next 10 months, i'm going to be a very happy girl.

here are some pictures of my surroundings:
my desk with a basket for me to organize the many things i use every day. i have three primary bags: a regular purse, a bag for paperwork or homework, and my traipsing bag. as keys, mrt cards, and money tends to switch bags almost every day, i thought this might be a good place to keep it all, instead of combing my apartment frantically before leaving for work every morning. also, please note the red seat covering, the green candle, my plant marty, the red rug next to the bathroom and my sarong from indonesia, all things i put out today. also, you might not be able to see it, but i now have chinese tivo, which is pretty much useless to me because all but like 12 channels are in chinese. and the program itself is in chinese so i couldn't even record shows if i wanted to. you all might also be asking yourself why i have a rug outside my bathroom. well gentlemen and women of the western world, welcome to a culture where they do not bother to separate your bathroom into neat little sections for you. normally, you might thing, a proper bathroom needs a space for a toilet, a space for a sink, and a space for a bath/shower. this is not true my friends, as asian culture for some reason deems this an inefficient use of space. so why bother separating it when you can have it all crammed into a little 4x6ft. area? my bathroom, it turns out, is so much more than this, and spends the greater part of its existence sopping wet. my solution is to close the door, crack the window, and use it as a place to hang clothes on occasion. as it was wet when i was taking these pictures and is now housing all my wet underwear, i did not take a picture of my bathroom for you. it is, however, very clean despite its almost perpetual state of dampness. by some miracle of God, i don't have mildew or mold. however, the floor always seems to have some sort of moisture on it, and unfortunately my feet get very dirty from walking around taipei or very slippery after i've taken a shower. ergo, i either track dirt around my apartment or i slip and slide. my solution is, now, to put a rug outside my door.












moving on - here's my new bed, complete with red sheets, new pillows, and the really awesome colorful pillow they had for like 1USD at ikea. yesssssss.










here's a little bit more of my apartment. you can see some of my "kitchen" area, my wardrobe, and a few shoes i was too lazy to put away before taking this picture. yes, i realize that there are many bottles on my refrigerator. okay, here's the deal, people. i'm saving them to recycle. however, the garbage trucks only come by once a day at the same time, so if i miss them, i don't get to throw my trash away. and they stay for like 1 minute tops, so i have just enough time to throw away whatever i can carry in two hands before they leave. one time, i actually chased a truck, and it didn't slow down, so i had to hurl my garbage into it from like 10 feet away. garbage stops for no one. i sometimes go over a week without throwing my trash away. taipei is virtually void of garbage cans, so i have to simply bide my time. the last time the truck came by, i had to use the opportunity to throw away the priority items - i.e. the regular garbage and the garbage in my bathroom. next time, folks. next time.


and finally. meet marty.


marty is my orchid, clearly. there's that saying that you really don't get attached to something unless you've named it. so naming it is just another step in actually keeping it alive, right? as i thought about an appropriate name for my orchid, i was inclined to give it a more delicate name than marty. i mean, i've always been under the impression that orchids are delicate flowers. ah, but i don't think marty is delicate at all. he's been alive for nearly 2 weeks, arguably longer than i've ever kept anything alive. and he still looks pretty good at that. he sits here by himself all day, and only requires water about once every other day. my apartment gets a paltry bit of natural sunlight, but marty doesn't care... he just keeps blooming. he's there to greet me when i wake up and when i come home from work, and just hangs out looking beautiful and patient even when i'm discouraged by my horrid chinese. i daresay that it takes an especially patient and resilient plant to live with me, so "marty" is perfectly appropriate. if he actually stays alive till i have to leave next june, i'm not sure what i'm going to do with him. it seems unfortunate to have to get rid of something that actually survived that long, but i doubt marty would like traipsing through russia much. maybe he'll find a home just like layce's larry...

environmentalism for amateurs

"the times, they are a-changin."
or so the saying goes.

global warming. what do i think about it? to be completely honest, i'm not sure how i feel about it. these days, it seems like questioning the concept always produces a very specific response. the person stares at you in disbelief, as if you've just questioned the existence of gravity. their jaw drops a bit. you can sense their thoughts running rapidly through their mind, as they try to pick an appropriate thing to say to you. you see them discarding the most offensive ones in hopes of finding something that suits both your comment and their relationship to you. ah, here's one... "how can you say that?"
"it hasn't been researched very long, and i'm very confused. researchers tell me that you can feel the world warming up during our warm season, yet the news reports that we've had the coldest winter in a decade, so..."
"don't be ridiculous; it's a fact. the world is warming up."
"sure."

nevertheless, i'm just not convinced. yes, i know al gore and leo dicaprio say that it's all true and proven, but it's based on not many years of research over the vast existence of earth. furthermore, the world, as recorded in history, has gone through cycles of prosperity and of draught. of abundance and scarcity. it is indeed possible that we are simply passing through one of these phases again. and as many environmentalists will tell you it's true, there are many others who think it's just a myth.

but i digress.

to the dismay to some of my republican family members, i am, indeed, an environmentalist. okay, so i do a lot of things to their dismay. i believe in walking whenever i have the chance, in public transportation, in energy-efficient products, and in driving fuel-efficient vehicles. certainly, some things are unavoidable. no doubt, we are often forced to buy cars instead of using public transportation because of our location, particularly in the states. i understand this. but i am whole-heartedly against abusing our natural resources. this is not because i think the world is heating up or that it will one day explode. it's must simpler than that. and in terms of my reasoning, i direct your attention to psalm 19:
the heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament shows His handiwork. day unto day utters speech and night unto night reveals knowledge. there is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. their line has gone out through all the earth and their words to the end of the world.

or isaiah 55:
for as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven, and do not return there, but water the earth, and make it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return to Me void, but it shall accomplish what I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it. for you shall go out with joy, and be led out with peace; the mountains and the hills shall break forth into singing before you, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.


these passages have always struck me as extremely powerful. while people often quote passages that claim that we have been given dominion over the world, my mind is constantly drawn to these passages. God likens his Word, His being, His truth, and His glory with the things of nature. He speaks of even the dormant natural objects around us proclaiming His name. of the many metaphors the writers of these passages may have chosen to explain the Word, it is interesting that they found these the most powerful and poetic. yet we continue to rip away at this. many a religion has claimed that divinity actually inhabits these objects, but i think that this image is even more powerful. nature is an expression of the glory of God, of His presence around us. though we tear it down in the name of humanity and the advancement of civilization, all these things abound without our help. they, quite literally, come directly from God, without our hand at all. and in their silence, they shout louder than everything around us, as our world becomes deafened to His call by the day. how foolish would be if we, then, remove it all? the things that we can't reproduce, the things which praise Him without any human intervention, of which, praises resonate even in the starkest stillness. their worship screams louder than any of the things we erect.

when i climbed mt. rinjani this summer, one of the most noticeable aspects of elevation is the removal of all human sounds. you cannot hear cars, or planes, or boats, or the white, monotonous buzz of something as plain as electricity. for the first time, possibly ever, i heard nothing. God says that we can hear Him in a still, small voice, and on top of the mountain, i think i understood the meaning of that phrase for the very first time. with the extraneous noises removed, you can hear a whisper of His glory so loud that almost compels you to cover your ears, see such a small glimpse that it's almost blinding. the trees clapped their hands and the mountains sung, but it was not as we might expect, with all innocuous sensory stimulants around us - the kind that almost make us numb. it was in the stillness, in the absolute quiet that i could hear His glory, and the shouts, the proclamations of His handiwork, weren't even audible. despite our ability to push the sound barrier to ever-increasing limits, how much more amazing is it that one does not even need to hear anything to be utterly overwhelmed by the shouting of His creation?

i once read an essay by a jewish ethicist that explained, as clearly as he could, why he believed in environmentalism. he argued that he saw the world as God's body - the physical manifestation of something we could not otherwise understand. he saw protecting the environment as simply a way of honoring and praising God. as one does not desecrate the temple, so should one respect the natural world around us. he encouraged his readers not to think of themselves as having dominion over the world, but as having been entrusted to take care of the world.



i am not, and have never been, scientifically inclined. you can throw research and data at me, and it will not affect me. with all the research on why we're dying so much or what will surely happen to us if we don't stop, i am no more compelled to change anything. but when faced with something as moving as the glory of God, shouting from the tops of mt. rinjani, i am certain that it should be - nay - it must be preserved.

easy amusement

"game. set. match."
or so the saying goes.

since thursday, aro and i have been embroiled in a fierce, facebook-supported game of scrabble, thanks to the new application "scrabulous." at our rate of play - i.e. one move per person per day, i expect that it will take at least another week to complete.

but the truly amazing thing is that i'm actually playing scrabble with him on the other side of the ocean, and i have the convenience of making a move whenever it's - well - convenient. i get off work and get a nifty notification in my facebook inbox: aaron humphrey has just made a move in scrabulous. click here to see the board. i play my turn and wait until aro wakes up or gets off work or something of the sort to play his.

who needs physical interaction? also, he doesn't know this, but at one point i had only vowels.

i happen to think witches are pretty cool.

"better late than never."
or so the saying goes.

i've been working my way through harry potter.

it took me 10 years, but i decided it's time to suck it up and give it a try. truthfully, i have always believed harry potter to be merely a fad. i expected that its popularity would eventually die out, as i generally have a great deal of skepticism in terms of pop literature. but it's been about 3 weeks since i began my venture, and i'm already on book 5. i confess: i just can't put the books down. with each installment, they get a little bit darker, a little bit more mature, a little bit more complex, and a little more compelling. quite frankly, i'm impressed.

over the past few years, i've heard a great deal of dissent regarding the harry potter books from the christian community. as they're about witches and wizards and other subjects of that nature, the great conundrum arises: to allow or not to allow? should it find a place among shelves with narnia or frodo, or should it be discouraged and indeed, banished? i've read a few reviews over the years, all of them saying to stick with lotr and that the themes within harry potter are spiritually destructive.

now that i've read for myself, i couldn't disagree more. for one thing, simply based on literary merit, i think rowling has achieved an enormous imaginative feat. it is rare to find such compelling writing on a fantasy world such as this. in narnia and the world of tolkien, they invent complete alter-universes. they exist outside of time and space as we know it. their worlds have different histories, different physical and metaphysical boundaries, different races and species - all of it outside of what we know and understand. rowling's world is similar. she invents a reality that exists both separately and parallel to the supposed real world. it too has its own histories, its own boundaries of possible/impossible/physical/metaphysical, and its own species. she indulges our fantasies: what if magic really existed? what if there was a world where we could disappear, change forms, move things around, read minds, see/walk through walls, or fly without technology? a world where people could do this at will? don't pretend like you don't think it, because - seriously - how cool would that be? rowling invents a world where all these exist, and so much more. where people not only have the ability to do these things, but must learn to use them. that exists along with the regular human race, and it intimately entwined with it. a place among the genetic code where some have the powers and some don't. some know about the alter-universe and others don't. some rely on technology and others don't. two worlds existing together, one in time and space as we know it, with all the histories and all the happenings of our own world, and another one right beside it, with its very own history and its very own struggles.

but all this is superfluous, right? that's not the threat. the threat is the existence of magic, the employment of witchcraft, and, probably most importantly, the absence of God. after all, what about all the underlying themes - is rowling championing witchcraft? is she encouraging a generation of children to become fascinated with satanism, deception, and magic? upon my own examination, i believe that christians that get hung up on this have simply not looked past all the innocuous, superficial aspects of these texts. they truly haven't thought critically about it at all.

true, there's witchcraft and magic, but the stories have much more universal and, i would suggest, nobler themes than these. these simply serve to indulge the imagination - to feed into all the things we've thought about as children.

and true, there is no question of God or spirituality in her books. but i see this as no different than any other addition to the fantasy genre. it's an alternate universe. think about all the great fantasy adventures of our day. even in a God-less piece of art, we cannot discount them, because they open up our imagination to what something might be like if the world didn't have the same boundaries and existential quandaries we have now. in star wars. or narnia. or middle earth. or any of the comic books with batman or superman or the x-men. and we do not dismiss these things based on the God principle. we see them as literary or artistic achievements. if we are to be consistent, we cannot dismiss rowling based on this characteristic.

more important than God or witchcraft, i think, is the existence of a moral and spiritual duality in rowling's books. it's not simple floundering, not remotely about idle dabble in magic and imagination. there is a war being waged. and not just any war, but a clear battle between good and evil. a championing of hope, compassion, generosity, sacrifice, and love, and disdain for cruelty, selfishness, and the heartlessness. there is a duality: between voldemort and dumbledore and everything they stand for. voldemort is cruel and power-hungry. he's an elitist, a murderer, a wager of chaos and mass genocide. dumbledore stands for all the things that we need even in our own world: acceptance of other people, kindness to all, reason, compassion, and a firm stance on what is right. i'm on book 5, and talk of war is stirring. most of the wizarding world believes that the dark side is not rising - that their troubles were over years ago, but dumbledore knows better. and though the world strips him, one by one, of titles. though people call him crazy, pelt him with insults, and his credibility slowly slips away, he stands firm in his beliefs. he knows that the good will have to stand against the evil sooner or later, and wisely chooses not to ignore it, despite protest. and even in the face of his enemies, he is polite, kind, reasonable, and steady. never behaving out of emotional preference, but out of what is good and what is right. and i can't help but find it to be encouraging in our spiritually non-committal world. if children of our own generation need an example in the books they read, i'm glad dumbledore serves as one. it's not good enough to simply deny that bad things are happening. it's not good enough to pretend. it's not good enough to remain neutral. one must stand up for what is right, simply because it is so. because it's an insult to principle not to. not all things are just okay. some truly are bad and such things must be fought, but never at the breech of justice. and never in a way that even remotely compromises the sanctity of human life.

in such a lifeless world, a world that so disinterested in picking sides, i'm glad to see such a fierce dichotomy. such a decided understanding of good and evil, and that, in the face of adversary, the good is always upheld.

i've also read articles that these stories undermine family values, championing only the wizard families and encouraging children to fight against their parents. harry's family treats him horribly and in return, he fiercely hates them. first of all, has this person ever read british literature? this is the classic situation in story after story. it's very dickens-esque. if you disallow harry potter for this reason, you should also disallow every book that has a child rebelling against his or her parents or family's expectations. even the girls in jane austen are resistant to what their parents want. it is too simple to say that rowling devalues human families and encourages wizard families. while harry is treated poorly by his aunt and uncle, families like the blacks or the malfoys, both wizard families, are worse. they go so far as to ostracize family members for being to benevolent to the human race (the "inferior" race). according to such families, if you don't hate the humans ("muggles"), you're a disgrace. in the face of racism, sirius chose not to partake, and as a result, his family pretended he never even existed. the malfoys, though a strong family unit, are plain horrible. the best example of a functional family is the weasleys, a very large, but very poor wizard family. rowling makes it clear, however, that compassion and acceptances of others is far more important than money. it doesn't matter what you have - what matters is how you treat others. and not all human families are dysfunctional. hermione, for example, comes from a human family, and has a very good relationship with her parents. they treat her well and she loves them dearly.

aside from this, i find it interesting that many christians aren't moved simply by the first almost-annihilation of voldemort. he was relieved of physical form by hubris. attempting to murder harry, his own spell rebounded onto himself. harry only survived because of his mother's sacrifice. she died holding him in his arms, protecting harry - she died sacrificing her life for his - and it was the only thing that could deflect the curse. in the books there are three unforgivable curses... curses that send wizards to azkaban - a veritable hell. imposing your will onto another's. the torture curse. and the death curse. because they take away inalienable human rights - the right to free will, to bodily preservation, and to life. which christians, exactly, would disagree that these should be, indeed, unforgivable? it was using the third that voldemort was destroyed. by sacrifice. sacrifice conquers even death.

sacrifice conquers death.
sacrifice conquers death.
now that's funny, because i vaguely remember a bible story about that...

one step towards child-rearing

"no day but today."
or so the saying goes.

for the past few years, i've become progressively insecure about my maternal instincts. i've had roommates who couldn't wait to have children. they love love love babies and kids, and show it in their abilities to take care of ill college students such as me. yes, with all the classes and hours at work, i spent the greater part of my college years recovering from some bout with illness. i once told heather that i wasn't sure i even had the mommy gene in me. i mean, i'd feel fairly ready if i did, right? i could barely take care of myself, let alone someone else. my own personal philosophy is to just suck it up, but it's not like i can say that to a kid as he or she complains of a sore throat.

heather's advice (probably inspired by 28 days): "we just need to buy you a plant, joy. if that lives, we'll move on to a pet. and if that's successful, well, maybe you'll feel better about humans."


so in the spirit of joy and maybe making my apartment a little more cheerful, i went to the flower market today and bought a plant. a real, live plant. dusty pink large orchids, in fact. i even bought some soil and a new pot in which to transport it. ah, here's to praying for inspiration.

shortness

"beauty is fleeting."
or so the saying goes.

so i cut my hair off today. like. all off. okay, not buzzed. but short, short. shorter than it's ever been.

and i look a little bit lesbian.

but i'm hoping it's in a very chic way.

and that i'm only saying that to mock the antiquated vision of beauty. long hair and all. some of us really do look better with it all gone.

i'm not sure how i feel about that. i'll give it a few days.

duality of man: musings on a culture. and also, objects that make my life awesome.

"just because you can doesn't mean you should."
or so the saying goes.

when i first arrived in taiwan, naturally, i was immediately struck by initial cultural differences. different rules. different mentality. different language. different work ethic. different standards of beauty. and on and on it goes. i've been here almost 2 months now, and i've found that i've been assimilating to a number of nuances quite easily. the unspoken rules (or lack thereof when it comes to traffic) no longer affect me. nevertheless, taiwanese and chinese culture to be surprisingly quirky. while some of these things drive me crazy, i've come to terms with the realization that, one, i will probably take many of them home with me, and two, it will take a while to shake them. a few examples to follow:

shuffling of feet. we all wear indoor shoes when we go to work, and t. chris has pointed out to me that the taiwanese shuffle their feet something awful. i mean, it's easy to see why. we have smooth, lovely faux-wood floors throughout the school, and you simply glide on them on your rubber and plastic soles. but it sounds awful and sloppy. i'm happy to report that i've not yet picked this up, but i'm very aware of it now. and i've probably spoken too soon.

yes/no dichotomy. when speaking of choices, the chinese love to keep it simple. so they might ask you a question, then follow it up in chinese with your two choices. translated into english, the most popular ones are, "yes or no," "have or don't have" or "want or don't want?" this sounds best in chinese, but it creeps into their english as well. for example, if i were to ask you a question, i might say something like, "i need the map. have or don't have?" then you would respond with "i have" or "i don't have." like i said, it makes sense in chinese, but it sounds incomplete in english. unfortunately, when we learn a new language, we have a tendency to apply our own grammar rules to the new language. sometimes this is effective and sometimes it is not. in this case, it gets the idea across, but it's improper. therefore, when i often ask teachers or students something, they might respond to me with "t. joy, i don't have!" "t. joy, do you want?" "t. joy, i cannot!" due to habit, i have found that i'm starting to pick this up. chad also does it. chris is a little more conscientious about his speech, but we all subconsciously simplify our language because it's necessary to help others understand. i sometimes catch myself asking "do you want?" or ending my sentences with that annoying "yes?"... "today is the writing competition, yes?" it's terrible. i'm afraid that by the time i get back to the states, the rest of the world won't be able to understand me. or they might think english was MY second language. missing articles. odd sentence patterns. simplified vocabulary.
"*slowly* yes, can i have 1 *indicates 1 with finger* grande toffee nut latte *pause to make sure they understand* with nonfat milk *pause again*."
"would you like whipped cream on that?"
"yes, i want. little bit *indicates little bit*."
"that will be $3."
"i don't have. you take credit card, yes?"
"yes. would you like your receipt?"
"no, i don't want. xie xie."

yikes.

the non-committal "m'm." i have a mixed relationship with this sound, but i've decided that there really is nothing quite as brilliant as this grunt-like utterance. it doesn't really transfer to english, but if i had to explain it, the sound falls somewhere in the midst of a thoughtful "huh," an "uh-huh" of agreement, and a "mm'hmm" of understanding. the truly wondrous thing about this utterance, however, has less to do with its meaning and more to do with the emphasis you put on it. i've realized that one of the major differences between chinese and english is that we communicate through the significant raising or lowering of our voices, and different emphasis placed in different parts of sentences. for example, we phrase a question much more differently than a statement. chinese, in contrast, has a lot of the same words pronounced in different ways. depending on the tone, you could be either indicating that you would like a cold beverage or telling someone that you have misplaced your fish. sentence tones do not vary as much either. ending your sentences with "...ma" in chinese is the same as a question.
anyway, that was a rabbit trail. what i love/hate about "m'm" is that its meaning is interchangeable, yet the tone remains the same! you say it if you agree, if you understand, or to simply indicate that you're listening. due to the natural human tendency to be lazy, we fall back on this all the time. we just eek out this non-word, and it's up to the other person to decide in which category its meaning falls.
and yes, it does cause some miscommunication. is it agreement? understanding? a combination?

fear. the other foreign teachers and i have established that the taiwanese are definitely afraid of two things in particular: the sun and water. yes, we know. the sun shines more brightly here than in most other places and we're on an island, thus, surrounded by water. their curious fear strikes me as rather odd, as hawaiians are also subjected to constant sunlight and surrounded by a rather large body of water, but they wouldn't have it any other way. i mean, it makes sense to be a little afraid of things which are foreign to you, such as the characteristic californian fear of rain. but water and sun? when it's everywhere?
however, i have recently decided that the taiwanese are not simply afraid of the sun itself, but of the sky. yes, the sky. when it's sunny, they walk under umbrellas and congregate in the shade beneath the shadow of buildings. when it's raining, they do the same. i've witnessed a man outside of his house fixing a chair at 2am wearing a helmet. why? we don't know. my only conclusion is that it's the sky. i
t makes so much sense. if you're driving something uncovered, you wear a helmet. otherwise, you're protected under a car. and it explains why there are so many covered walkways. and all balconies have covers.
even on cloudy days, when the sun seldom breaks through but it's not raining, people carry their umbrellas, putting them away when they're shaded by buildings and whipping them out instantly when they are walking in uncovered areas.

personally? i hate umbrellas. they're obnoxious to carry, and i like the rain. i never used an umbrella in england, just wore coats. and here, i simply get wet. i don't care. and as for the sun, well, it's always been my understanding that it's a friend of mine.

things which make my life easier/awesome

dumplings. arguably, the best kind of food there is. for the cost of less than 2usd, you can have yourself a filling, portable, and always delicious little meal. i eat dumplings several times per week, usually when i just want something simple to eat and i'm not incredibly hungry. they love me at the little place around the corner.

tea, tea, tea. i love tea. bubble tea. fruit tea. black tea. herbal tea. hot tea. iced tea. the taiwanese love their tea, and i could drink it every day. while i love english tea, the taiwanese take your tea experience to a whole new level. there are some dandy little tea combinations that i love, particularly fruit iced tea, which is a whole lot like sangria, but without the alcoholic content. it's cold and refreshing, and has fruit in the bottom of your cup. and of course, bubble tea. it's a drink AND a meal. i just really love chewing the tapioca at the bottom.

sitting in public buses. buses here are really clean. and air-conditioned. and comfortable. i ride the bus to work every day, and it's actually my preferred means of transportation. you get to see the city and you can sit in the comfortable seats.

7-eleven. for anything you might need at any given hour of the day. you just never know. hungry? it's always open.

night markets. need a tazer? an outfit? new shoes? a bag? food? a new pet? go to the night market, and you'll be sure to find it. it's like a swap meet, but not just for sunday mornings.

fruit. i love exotic fruits. well. exotic by american standards. mangoes. kiwis. pineapple. coconut. mangoes are the new awesome, and i will be very sad when you can't purchase them for an everyday, normal price in the united states.

not tipping. i've worked service jobs. they suck because people walk all over you, and your tips don't make up for it. i also think it's bullshit that tips in the states have become an expectation rather than a reward for good service. i've gone to restaurants where i was ignored and/or had to wait for 2 hours for a seat, and then got an earful about how my party didn't tip enough. tip enough? we gave 15%! and that was generous! i'm sorry, did i miss the memo that says tipping is compulsory? and that the new rule is 25%, though you're going to tell me it's 15? if it's expected, why don't you just bill me for it rather than making me go through this whole routine where i have to calculate (or in some cases, mis-calculate) how much of my hard-earned money i have to give you for your (sometimes... not always) lousy service? i understand. you depend on it. so do i. it's important. but i appreciate living in a society where it's not expected... where i simply pay the bill. "then how can those people make any money?" well, they don't have to tip anyone else, so we all win, don't we? if you feel inclined to give money for good service, great, but i'm tired of this expectation. when i worked at starbucks, we earned money off peoples' generosity. i was lucky in that i worked at a store where we had a number of regulars who loved us. they always left us a generous tip because they liked us and our service. it was never expected. i'd never stopped working at starbucks if i made 15%... nay, 7.5% (half for me and half for whatever partner i was working with) of all the drinks (or food) we served. i cleaned up after you when you so inconsiderately left your cups and plates around the lobby. i made drinks. i rang you up. i kept the coffee fresh. i cleaned/stocked/re-stocked/re-cleaned/organized/circulated your pastries. i complied when they added the warming component to my job but didn't offer me a pay increase. i washed dishes and took out trash. i developed/perfected my ability to make you glorious, velvety soy/non-fat/breve/whole milk foam for your wet/dry cappuccinos or extra foamy/no-foam lattes. i made signs, took classes, and participated in dozens of coffee and tea tastings. i really enjoyed my job, but it's much harder than people think it is. and i didn't demand or expect a tip from you. so why is it expected from me?
in taiwan, nobody gives tips and nobody receives tips. you don't make that extra cash, but you don't shell it out either. if they want you to tip, they include it in the bill and on the menu. in a far more passive society, in this way, they are far more direct than american culture and its unwritten rules of tipping.

things which do not make my life awesome

standing in public buses. i just can't get my balance. it's too jerky. i'd rather walk to work than have to stand on a bus. really, really.

grocery stores. they just don't carry things you need, much less things you can cook with. this is very much an eating-out culture, and many a time i've found it difficult, if not impossible, to find food for a reasonable price that i can make an actual meal out of.

public restrooms. 2 months later, i still don't like to squat. and i don't like the whole throw your toilet paper away, don't flush it thing.



thanks for listening.

question: why did the chicken cross the road?...

...to avoid dying of dysentery, of course.

but seriously. show of hands: who remembers that stupid question from childhood, and furthermore, who thought it to be utterly pointless and irrelevant to anything pertaining to real life. i mean, chickens don't cross roads, right?

ah, see... that's where you're wrong. clearly, you've never been to indonesia.

the concept of chickens crossing the road never made any sense to me until i found myself in the back seat of a van as it whizzed through the windy roads of lombok island, indonesia. the roads are about as wide as a one-way, one-lane street, but people in indonesia find it perfectly adequate for a 2 lane highway next to a precarious cliff overlooking the ocean. i just smile and act like i have complete faith that our driver won't lose control of the vehicle and send us plummeting over a cliff into the tropical waters below. i also act like it doesn't bother me that i don't have a seat belt. i guess people sitting in the back seat don't get one. it was on this particular car trip, just before our treacherous trek up mount rinjani, that i saw dozens of chickens cross the road. our driver honked time after time to get them to move out of the way. apparently, they're not smart enough to simply move when they see oncoming traffic, nor do they seem to learn that the road = bad. so they insist on crossing the road and just narrowly escaping an especially gruesome and squishy death.

ah, but i'm getting ahead of myself. this post, really, is about my trip to indonesia, not about chickens. but where do i begin? our harrowing car trip-slash-exercise in effective chicken-dodging tactics is merely the beginning of the many adventures chad, chris, and i experienced on this trip.

last saturday, we arrived in bali. we decided to spend our first night in kuta, a popular destination for tourists. and while the beaches of kuta are beautiful and there are many people, it is so developed that you lose a lot of indonesian personality. starbucks? dunkin donuts? pizza hut? please. if we wanted all those things, we could go back to the states. nevertheless, we discovered that there was a very good middle eastern place down the street from our bungalow, with sheesha for 4usd. 4 dollars and hookah? sign me up. we downed hummus and enjoyed our apple apple tobacco before moving on to some of the local night clubs and resorts. our first stop was ku de ta, which was right on the beach. unfortunately, despite being beautiful, it charged way too much money for drinks. by western standards, it's about right, but in indonesia, you shouldn't spend more than 3 or 4 usd for a mixed drink. feeling a bit underdressed and uncomfortable with the high prices, we moved on to two local favorites: crusoe's and Mbargo. we all enjoyed crusoe's because of the live music and the laid-back atmosphere. but it turns out that this place was also something of a brothel. it didn't take long to figure out. while i was uncomfortable as the only female non-prostitute there, i found the social interactions around me fascinating. i actually liked studying body language and male-female hierarchy. i was angered by the superiority and the sense of entitlement that the men had. even the young ones. i was saddened that the girls were so desperate and by such a degeneration of love and sex.

but then again, i was only observing.

the next day, we spent a few hours on the beach (great surfing, p.s.), before moving on to ubud, a smaller city more inland. i think that ubud was probably my favorite place. i liked our accommodations best there as well. it was quieter, less crowded, less developed, and more bohemian. we wandered through the shops and talked with the locals for a while, then made our way down to the sacred monkey forest. for 1usd, you can buy a bag of bananas to feed wild monkeys. they will come up to you and take them, and some will even sit in your lap. they're very intelligent and incredibly adorable. also, they're very spoiled in the sacred monkey forest. chad took out a banana to feed to one of them. distracted, he didn't notice that another was creeping up behind him until it snatched the entire bag from his hands. i also witnessed chris' monkey mishap. he held out a banana to offer to a monkey, but it didn't want that banana. it wanted the bag. so it tried to grab it, but chris wrestled it away. at this point, the monkey bore its teeth, showing its true colors. chris tried to give the bag back, but at this point, our monkey friend was bored. short tantrum, as it were. nevertheless, chris did manage to give it one banana, but this wasn't enough. it kept throwing said banana to the ground with contempt. spoiled, spoiled monkeys. after this, we had a lovely dinner in a garden and attended an indonesian dance show. the costume and the makeup was amazing, but i think what fascinated me most was the style of dancing. their traditional dancing tells stories through eyes, hands, fingers, and feet. there's very little movement of the entire body and very little facial expression, so the entire dance is punctuated by subtle movements. it is very beautiful and entrancing to watch.

the next day, we had an early cooking lesson at cafe wayan, an indonesian restaurant. they took us to one of their larger restaurants, where we made a 5 or 6 course meal and then ate it. the wonderful thing about the food is that we used only fresh ingredients. they actually had a garden next to the kitchen, where they could pick their spices and vegetables for the meals. the food was amazing, and we all thought that perhaps we were slipping into a food coma. we then spent some time shopping and wandering around before deciding to rent motor scooters and explore bali a little more extensively. this sounded like a lot of fun to me, though i'd never ridden one and i had to remember LEFT side. LEFT side. RIGHT turn, DANGER turn. unfortunately, my lack of experience became painfully apparent when i turned too widely and hit a parked van outside a hotel. i pretty much bounced off it. everyone could see the horror cross my face when it happened. for those who don't know, i've never hit anything in my life. never been in an accident. never received a ticket. chad and chris were quite supportive through it all, though they couldn't keep themselves from laughing. i imagine that i'll never live it down. we had to postpone our motor scooter adventure to get an estimate on fixing the bumper and the scooter. they took us to a local body shop, where they were quoted about 90usd to fix the car and 50usd to fix the bike. they promised me that if i simply paid that amount, all would be forgiven and, more importantly, forgotten. i didn't argue, because i imagined how much trouble i would have been in had this happened in the states. no international license. no license to drive a scooter. no insurance. hmmmmm. very rarely can you pay a paltry $150 to make something go away. after paying my debts and briefly seeing my life flash before my eyes, i decided to get back on and keep truckin. gotta get back on the horse, right? i am happy to report that i didn't hit anything else for the rest of our trip. we traversed the winding roads of rural bali, stopping every so often to take in the vast sprawl of rice fields around us. we also visited the "elephant caves." don't get too excited. there weren't real elephants there. it's named after ganesh, one of the hindu gods which is, surprise surprise, embodied in elephant form. there, we found a temple, pools to wash oneself before entering the sacred caves, the biggest butterfly i've ever seen in my life, and literal caves where people can go to pray and make offerings. what fascinated me most was the hindu concept of three. they have a sort of idol where one can pray (and i think make offerings to as well?), and our tour guide explained that three is an extremely important number in the hindu tradition. the three statues we saw represent creator, protector, destroyer; birth, living, death; peace with people, the divine, and nature - the view of the world within these lenses of "three" is an integral part of hinduism. very interesting.

the next day, we decided to take a long bus ride and short flight to lombok, an island not far removed from bali. it is, by and large, the road less traveled, and we wanted to experience some true island living. upon arrival, we found our accommodations for the night and set out exploring. the island of lombok is even quieter than kuta. there are far fewer tourists, but the poverty is far more apparent than on bali. i noticed that many people have almost nothing. there are also several family farms with small shacks for people to live in. it made me feel like i had so much, seeing how little they lived with.

fun fact: did you know that indonesia has the world's largest muslim population? while the island of bali is hindu, the other islands are muslim. also, did you know that people get up to pray in mosques at absurd hours like 3am? i discovered this because my hotel was next door to a mosque. wowy, prayer is noisy!

we had a delicious authentic indonesian meal, and explored our options for our stay on lombok? scuba diving or mountain climbing? scuba diving or mountain climbing? choices, choices. i had decided against scuba diving, so i left it up to the guys to decide what they wanted. if they decided to take the courses to get their padi certifications, i would either climb a mountain by myself or spend my days snorkeling, swimming, or lying on the beach. finally, we reached a consensus: we would all climb... nay, conquer... nay, bitch slap... mount rinjani. we'd already done some recreational mountain climbing in taipei. how hard could it be, right?

...i'm actually surprised to be alive after that climb.


nobody warned us about what we'd be facing, and that we would need a fair amount of materials to make this trip comfortable, if not simply possible. materials like: sweatshirts, strong hiking boots with excellent arch support, long pants, and maybe a month of steady conditioning. the trail began easy enough... climbing over roots and up a few gentle slopes. but as we progressed, the mountain became a monster of its own. by the time we realized what we were facing, we couldn't turn back... we'd come too far! we'd marched too much to turn back, but the mountain was getting steeper by the step. it began as probably a 25 degree climb for the first quarter, which then evolved into 45. that's okay, we could deal. but the next leg - the leg after lunch - was something like 50 degrees. i was so tired, i wanted to simply pass out. i'd felt like i'd lost all will to keep moving, much less keep breathing. i suppose what kept me going was chris' unfortunate bout with what can only be described as dysentery. and chad was climbing in berkenstocks. surely, if they could keep moving, i could do it too. we finally reached post 3, about 3/4 up the mountain. we would make camp there, eat dinner, then rise early the next morning to make the last 1/4 trek up to the rim at sunrise. after that, we would hike down to the bottom. unfortunately, i had a few thin sweaters that i managed to layer to generate a paltry extra heat, chris was still suffering, and chad had only his sarong, which he wore as a cape for warmth. it was a long, blustery night for us. while the company that we were going through provided a guide, porters, food, and camping equipment, we were otherwise ill-equipped for this journey. chris got his own tent, which was probably good because he was feeling so sick, so chad and i shared, and probably got about 3 hours worth of sleep combined. we shivered and turned all night long trying to generate enough warmth to go to sleep. parts of my body were so hot, they were sweating, while other extremities were so cold, they had goose bumps. somehow, we made it through our night of misery and arose in the still of darkness for the last leg of our climb. the air was the cleanest i've ever breathed. the forest was so quiet it was almost deafening. the stars were brighter than i'd ever seen them. God's glory abounded. we witnessed the sun peaking up over the mountains of bali and the ocean as we hiked. however, this hike felt pretty much vertical, on loose sand and rock. but we're troopers, and we made it to the top. looking inside an active volcano is an experience i'll never forget. everything was so green and huge and beautiful. we breathed a sigh of victory as we shivered uncontrollably in the morning cold. after about an hour marveling at the top, we headed back down to base camp. okay, so the walk down was more of a stumble/slide. i may have scars forever.

verdict? totally worth it.

at base camp, we received transport to one of the ports at lombok so that we could take a boat to the gigi islands, a few desolate beaches about 45 minutes away. on the gigis, there are no motor vehicles, and everything moves a little more slowly. the ocean is clear and the sand is white. we arrived at the port, which is a whole lot of desperation crammed into one place. everywhere, people want to carry your bags, sell you something, do anything to extract money from you. they don't even ask. they see a car pull up, and they ambush it to carry your bags so that they can charge you. finally, we managed to escape and head to gigi. in transit, we met a friendly bar promoter named jules, who helped us find our way around the island. he knew good places to go, and was generally good company. we located an adequate place to sleep, and spent the rest of the night exploring the islands, eating, and having a few drinks. unfortunately, our trek in rinjani severely caught up to me on the islands. i woke up the next day with horrible stiffness and the worst hangover i've ever experienced. i hadn't even had much to drink the night before; it was something like 3 over the course of 6 or 7 hours. i'd simply been sipping, but it all hit me horribly the next day. i think it did not mix with my fatigue and dehydration, and it produced a very uncomfortable, persistent nausea all day long. it wasn't even intense, just a prolonged discomfort. chad was also struck with the same rigor mortis-like qualities in his limbs, and we both waddled from place to place. we couldn't even go up and down stairs without bracing ourselves. as is typical with our relationship, though, we thought it was a fun game to hit each other in the thighs unexpectedly, just to elicit a response. why? team-building, we say. chris, fortunately, didn't have the same problems. he actually recovered quite well from our trek, and i'm pretty sure he deserved it after 2 days of misery. he did, however, take a tremendous (and possibly cruel) amount of pleasure laughing at chad and me as we crept along and grimaced. nevertheless, we spent a relaxing day on the beach sipping cold fresh fruit drinks and wading in and out of the water. there's something so therapeutic about the ocean for me. simply being in it makes me feel alive... like the world is exactly the way it was meant to be.

after a morning and afternoon of leisure, we headed back to lombok via boat and to bali via plane for one more night in kuta. chris treated us all to a resort and a beautiful hotel room and we had a delicious dinner. apparently, i crashed as soon as we returned to our room from dinner, but i must say that it was the deepest and most complete sleep i've had in a long while.

the next day, we wandered around bali for a few hours. chad and i had one last balinese massage, and we all bid indonesia goodbye.

indonesia is beautiful and exotic. i only wish we'd had more time to do the scuba diving and surfing, but perhaps another day. this trip was incredible, and i'm so glad i went. i feel like my world opened up even more, and i'm hoping that my heart opened a little more with it. i wouldn't change a thing.




...except maybe the scooter accident.