Black in Taiwan, month II
this is the beginning — the settling and the acclimating
day 二
• hello world•
“Woah” I hear a small voice exhale. I look to see the cutest girl entranced by my melanin. I smile and wave. She waves her yellow fan and her little hand. When her family looks out to see me, they wave. They wave furiously, “HELLO! … HELLO!… NICE TO MEET YOU!!!!” I chuckle and continue walking. You’d never guess where I was headed– to get some of that radioactive shrimp gelatin soup and a bag of fried mystery.
day 四
• jamerican•
I should have never told them about being American born, raised by Jamaican parents. They’ve obsessed over the Jamaican part. “Can you prepare a Jamaican song for the students to perform at our assembly?” “Can you prepare a Jamaican dance for the students to perform at our school’s anniversary celebration?” I didn’t know how to delicately explain to them that Jamaican culture isn’t very kid friendly. So I recommend something else. “Wow! If you can mix American black culture dance with Jamaican music, that would be very… fresh!”
• funeral•
Tonight I saw a cat loose its life. I park my bike and use the moonlight to find my house keys, when a loud thump jolts my heart. If you heard what I heard as the cat jumped from some unknown darkness above me onto the ground, I’m sure you’d think there is no way that cat didn’t just loose one of its nine lives, too.
• hospitality•
We take the short cut through the temple across the street, but we run into an elderly lady that lives nearby. There’s a couple of people hanging out there. She was an English teacher, so she’s conversing pretty well. She says out by the temple is cooler than inside the house. It is. I thought she meant cool as in cool, but then I realized she meant cool, like, colder. “Where are you going?” Dinner. “So late? Wait, wait, wait, we’ll bring you some food.” There are baos, and octopus balls, and spring rolls and the food keeps coming. And as other neighbors come through they push food into their hands and they stop to eat.
day 五
• the plague•
Dead roaches. Everywhere. Strewn across the street in such a way that you’d think someone tried to disperse the evidence of a multi-homicide. Ants swarm the dead carcasses. Maybe it’s a premonition of a natural phenomenon and there’s an earthquake or something coming soon. Or maybe there were micro earthquakes that flipped them over! Some of them have enough life to wiggle their legs in desperation. And I think if they’ve died from Taiwan’s unforgiving sun, I’d lie on my back and wiggle my extremities in solidarity.
day 十
• asking all them questions•
I can’t tell if my Chinese is getting better or if I’ve just grown so accustomed to having the same conversations “Are you a student?” “Where are you from? “How long have you been in Taiwan?” “Wow! Your Chinese is so good!” And the lady down the road asks, “If you’re from America why are you black?” That’s a new question. I want to explain more in depth about the diversity in America, but I could only say there are many black people in America. I want to explain why, but I don’t know how to say slavery.
day 十一
• defining extra•
The government press conference was really a performance. There’s a green screen to the left and a fake news room on the TV to the right. The oars by our seats are for the photo in the giant ship cutout off to the side. The head of the county and the head of education dress as pirates. And as we assemble to take the picture, we raise our oars, they drop the sail, and a drone flies through the boom of confetti cannons.
• typhoon•
There’s a typhoon coming. After living in Florida for so long, it doesn’t phase me. I look up the wind speed. 36. How cute. That’s not even half of a category 1. I don’t know what m/s means, but I know that it couldn’t possibly be a measurement in seconds. I ask Kara. It’s meters per second. Well. That changes everything. I look up the conversion. 74 mph. But that’s just gusts. And the actual typhoon is about a category 3… Still doesn’t phase me.
day 十二
• amputee•
I get mad here. Frustrated by the inability to communicate with the limbs of logic and reasoning severed from my vocabulary. It’s not their fault for the misunderstandings, it’s me. And my anger would confuse them. So I breathe deeply and count while I walk away, because I don’t want to cry.
day 十三
• conditioned•
I wondered what was that cultivated such meek and shy behavior in the culture. It’s the yelling. Yelling at children for small things. “What is wrong with you?” I wish I knew enough Mandarin to translate the others, but I know it’s filled with belittling put downs. Yelling for things that are honest mistakes. Yelling for their slow learning curve. Yelling for having short attention spans. Yelling for having high child-like energy. Sometimes they speak in Taiwanese because they think I won’t understand. But then I know that it’s even worse.
day 十四
• growing pains•
More raised voices shrinking children back into their places. Verbal reprimanding. At lunch the teacher finds me and apologizes (I don’t know why), and asks what I would’ve done. “You’re very patient. I’m not so patient.” But the next time things were different. “Stand up and count to 50. When you’re done you can sit down.” Things continue to be different. “Stand up. When you’re ready for class you can sit down.” “*clap* *clap**clap**clap* Stop!”There’s no more yelling. It’s so touching that even by doing nothing, I’m doing something.
day 十五
• 4th time’s the charm•
I stop my bike and look at the clock. 1:59 pm. The restaurant closes at 2:00. That’s when I knew it was an opposition day. I try to spend opposition days indoor to minimize my disappointments, and think about just going back home. But then I recall my morning discovering and aggressively washing dried clay from my hair. The 4th restaurant was finally open. I check the date. 15. I knew it. Something kept me peddling past my house and down into an unexplored market. I stumbled upon a crystal shop, after a month on searching. The summary: the owner gives me a deck of informational crystal playing cards and the most beautiful crystal for free.
day 十六
• the eyes•
Maybe it’s confusion, but it looks more like disgust when the adults see me. Not all the time. Not even a majority of the time. But enough. Studying me up and down. I see them in my peripheral vision that’s actually very much in the forefront of my consciousness. I see them in the reflection of shop windows. I see them and their cellphones through tinted car windows. I see them in the side view mirror of their scooters. I see a lot of things– it’s usually easier to pretend I don’t. But the children. They make me blush. When they see me it’s like they’ve seen Christmas morning.
day 十七
• the trojan horse•
“Jimmy usually doesn’t pay attention in English class, but today he was very enthusiastic,” Kara tells me as we walk down the hallway to lunch. I didn’t think I would have a big impact in my English class because Kara is already so good. Like SO good. She uses so many creative and interactive activities (code word for games that we can consider educational) to make learning fun. So it really warmed my heart to know that I’m making a difference in the smallest of ways.
day 二十一
• names•
“Hello, I’m Apple,” breaks me out of my day dream. Wait, Apple? There’s no way I heard that right. Like A-p-p-l-e? “Yes!” You know, I’ve been wanting to know her name. She’s the spunkiest third grader I’ve ever known. Jet black cascading bob, with bangs. Sporty. In my 22 years of life I’ve never seen someone who throws a dodgeball quite like her. She’s like a piece of fire. I love studying their little personalities.
day 二十二
• cijin•
Sand. Salty air. Moonlight. I’m dressed up, impersonating an extrovert at a party on the beach on an island off the island of Taiwan. I meet more people like me. And by that I mean black. I make 5 new friends in one night and it’s invigorating to reunite with the Brittany they bring out. She only comes out with people like Shantell, or Ashley, or Brandon.
day 二十三
• names (the encore)•
“Did I tell you about my student named Liam?” Tell me there’s a q in there. “No but there’s a 5 and an apostrophe” She wasn’t kidding. These kids choose some of the most interesting English names. Here are the highlights from my classes: Apple, Coco white, Esan (their take on Ethan), Candy, Ferrari, Mars, Fanny (I’m pretty sure the ‘pack’ is silent), Kiwi, Una… Kitty and Bobo would have made the cut if they weren’t already my grandma and sister-in-law’s nicknames, respectively.
day 二十四
• fo guang shan•
The Buddhist monastery is carved in the side of a mountain. I wish my words could explain the awe of it. Taiwan’s largest Buddha looks a lot smaller than our second largest Buddha. Oh. That’s the largest Buddha in Taiwan. We stroll pass the 8 pagodas, down to the wisdom concourse and marvel at the scenery. Through the smog and clouds shine golden sun rays. And as we walk through the grounds of the monastery, the rays accentuate the grandeur of red and golden architecture. It’s peaceful. The energy invites reflection.
• changes•
Did I mention I’ve learned some Taiwanese? “You’re so pretty can I take a photo with you,” actually translates to “I want to take a photo with you because you’re black.” I used to at the very least try to look photogenic for their shots, but now I’ve started turning my head away, or looking down, or turning into the alley way as if it were part of my journey. It’s like they’ve never seen a black person before. I know they haven’t. But still. I didn’t mind it when I was in China. And I didn’t mind it the first two months here. But now it’s different.
And when they’d look at me, I used to pretend I didn’t see. Sometimes I still do. But mostly I return their looks. I look into their eyes as they look at me. Sometimes I hold the stare for a few moments and then go about my business. And sometimes I look until they look away. I used to try to radiate a warm and gentle energy during eye contact always, but that was too exhausting and now I’ll stare blankly. Now I just reciprocate the energy they share with me. If it’s warm, I’m warm. If it’s blank, I’m blank. If it’s negative, I’m blank or I ignore.
day 二十五
• at the doctor•
Taps on my wrist, back and forth. It’s my 6th time at the doctor in 2 months. I always wonder what he’s checking. They never usually say anything. “ You haven’t been sleeping well.” Wait what?? How’d you know that?! “And you’ve been having some gastrointestinal issues” OHMYGOSH. It’s as if he was there last night when I felt everything coming up and feared I was relapsing into the uncontrollable vomiting, abdominal muscle spasms, and debilitating pain from the past 10 months. Then he tells me what not to eat: sticky rice, three words I don’t even understand their English translation and probably wouldn’t have eaten anyways, anything cold, no tea or coffee after noon, sweet things (specifying that milks count as sweet). And I think to the bubble tea I finished in the reception area — the empty cup still hiding in the bag at my feet.
day 二十七
• jumping beef noodles•
I’m enjoying a peaceful meal of beef noodles when a lady comes in jumping with her Pomeranian in my face. I thought she was just overly excited to see a black person but she was saying that she knew me. “Where are you from?” “Are you a teacher here?” “Where?” “You don’t have classes in the evening?” No. Why is she so excited about everything? “Since you have so much free time can you tutor my kids?” Wow. This woman really played me. And I am so mad because if this was a conversation happening in a language I understand I would have sniffed it from 3 miles away. I have to study Chinese after school. “Oh my children can teach you. There’s three of them and you can practice speaking with them!” How old are they? “Five.” Like she REALLY tried to play me. 5 year olds can’t teach me Chinese! “Do you have line?” Wait how do you know me? She mentioned something about chicken and yesterday which just left me more confused because I wasn’t anywhere buying any type of fowl yesterday. Here’s the thing. I would tutor them if there were enough hours in the day. But, you know, self care.
day 二十八
• house | home•
How do you make a house a home, knowing you’ll only be there for 10 months, without investing too much money? You walk parks and collect fallen branches. You plant weeds in pots. And you plant the heads of your pineapple and the bottoms of your scallion. You adopt the plants your school no longer wants and you buy a few, too. You spray paint the empty vessels for noodles and bubble tea, turning the base into planters and the lids into golden trimmed decor.
day 二十九
• ouija kitchen•
This morning I had to call upon the spirit of my ancestors to help me cook cook my first meal. (I know I know, how am I JUST now cook cooking? Eating out in Taiwan is the culture so it’s very cheap and convenient — most meals are between $1.50 and $2.50 or $4-$6 if you’re trying to get really fancy. No not for every meal, but most. I was fake cooking the other times — so assembling the ingredients of salvaged foods to make sustenance.) I refuse to buy any unnecessary kitchen items, so I have no measuring apparatuses. That’s fine for seasoning foods, but when you’re working with flour and rising agents that’s a whole ‘nother ball game. Their spirits were with me and my banana fritters were a banger. Also, refusing to buy unnecessary kitchen utensils means I cooked everything with chopsticks.
• dinner•
At the store I buy a proper kitchen spoon because there’s no way I’m disrespecting my heritage by making that with only chopsticks. I’m a little worried about how it will come out because I don’t have a cabinet full of familiar spices. But I have thyme. And I have pepper and salt. I chop the scallion, dice the onion and green pepper, mince the garlic, peel the potato, and crush the ginger. One thing cooking on a gas stove has taught me is that you don’t have to preheat it because fire is hot. As the oil sizzles, aromatic curry fills the air and I feel tears welling behind my eyes. It smells like home. Maybe this is homesickness.
