Chapter 40: Post Fubar

April 2, 96 (as I start to write this)

Chapter 40 was a disaster! My apologies to you all--the blog site went into a sort of "Sorcerer's Apprentice" mode, and advised everyone repeatedly that a new entry had been published. However, there was no publishing. I'm just going to move on, and since there is more news about Lao-puo I will add a quick Chapter 41 later on today.. The travelblog website was down for most of the day, while the technical people took the broom handle out of my spokes.

Moving, even from the fourth floor of a walkup, can be fun—and not just because we have neither a piano nor a freezer. It was astonishing, nevertheless, how much rubbish we have accumulated in a short period of time.

Our new landlady kindly let us borrow a truck. To my great delight, it was an old blue Toyota half-ton—even older and rustier than the one I was driving in Canada. The muffler rattled (at least it did until I booted the tailpipe), and the exhaust would gag a moose, but it got the job done.

There was no heater or defroster in the truck. (I don’t mean “no” in the sense of ones that don’t work—I mean there was neither installed in the first place.) Behind the wheel I found myself singing (mercifully silently):

It’s forty below and I don’t give a - - - -
Got a heater in my truck and I’m off to the rodeo.
It’s a la main left and a la main right
Come on you - - - -in’ dummy get your right step right
Get off the stage…

Is anyone besides me old enough to remember “The Rodeo Song”?

Pets are allowed in our building, but I don’t think that cockroaches should be included in the policy. We (I) have already sent half a dozen to perdition, and I know that there are always more than just the ones you see. I say “I” instead of ‘we” because whenever Lao-puo sees one she summons the Lord High Executioner rather than taking “executive action” herself. It’s kind of like Al Capone beckoning a hoodlum when he wants a rival knocked off. Cockroaches are not associated with filth here as they are at home, and they simply do not upset me anymore.

Anyway, we have moved, and the new pad will do splendidly. We can see the sunrise in the east from the bedroom window, and we can hear the cicada beetles and other jungle-type noises in the night. Lao-puo and I have just bought thirty or so potted plants for our deck from someone returning home.

There is a night market a block away on Saturday nights, with cold beer and cheap meals and vibrancy—along with a lot of garbage for sale. I forgot about it when we came home, and so I had to maneuver Esmerelda through the crowd.

I am delighted that it only takes me ten minutes on the motorbike from the new digs to the train station—the same time as it used to take me to walk from the old lodgings. My route takes me down the hill in front of the Pine Grove Hostel (the WWII final stopover for kamikaze pilots), and I must admit to letting my imagination get away on me as I barrel down the hill with my engine roaring. Awful puns occur to me as I think of the wartime Japanese aircraft. “Zeke and ye shall find”. “Betty misses the carrier.” “Missed. Give him Zero”.

There was another demonstration in Taipei over the weekend, this time a pro Chiang Kai-shek effort by mostly elderly people. The government is changing everything around, renaming CKS Airport to Taiwan Taoyuan Airport, talking about taking his statue out of the CKS Memorial, and so on. Someone is always trying to rewrite history, in every country in the world.

We will be going to Taipei again for the Tomb Sweeping long weekend, and spend Easter with friends of ours there. Some of the foreign teachers are going to the Philippines, Korea, or even Thailand for the weekend—that’s how cheap it is from here. Many of them live in places that are not scenic or tranquil the way Hualien City and Hualien County are, so I guess we feel less need to get away.

I had a slack time of lesson planning this week, because I presented an Easter PowerPoint to all of my classes. The idea is to teach them about my culture and not my language whenever there is a special celebration or festival. Part of the presentation is about the Roman occupation, and we had a blast when the boys and I demonstrated the legions’ use of the sword and shield. Everyone loved the armpit puncture and the groin slash, and the shield hub in the solar plexus. There’s nothing like blood and guts to get everyone’s attention.

The grade seven kids are young enough to enjoy the hokey-pokey, as part of their learning body parts.

At the last weekly assembly, Principal Lin was scolding the kids for sleeping at each other’s houses, and he’s trying to put a stop to it. The problem is that there are a lot of single-parent families here, or even two-parent families, with the mother and/or the dad working out of town. It’s slim pickings job-wise around here. Many of the kids live with elderly grandparents (who go to bed early) and then the boyfriends sneak into the girls’ houses. Were it not so serious (these are naïve children, after all) I would consider it funny, as in the direct-approach proposition, as follows:

"Hey baby, what time does your grandpa take his teeth out and hit the rack?"

The Chinese, and I suppose aboriginal, idea seems to be that extended families raise the kids. One of my colleagues had a little girl only a few months back, and the tacker is living with her aunt in Tainan so that her mum can keep working.

It’s been cold and wet and windy for a few days now. This morning was only 16 degrees with drizzle, but it feels a lot colder because nothing is heated. At least we have warm comforters that came with the new lodgings.

It’s now Monday the 9th, and I’m tired and grumpy this a.m. It was 0200 by the time we got home last night, and I still had to get up at 0500 to get ready for work. It was worth it to be late, because we had a fabulous weekend in Taipei. We went to the top of Taipei 101 (“die bay ee ling ee” as they say around here), because Lao-puo had never been up there before. It’s the tallest building in the world (for the time being, at least), with the fastest elevator in the world (over 60 km/h). The weather was cold and wet and miserable, but we managed to enjoy ourselves nonetheless. We went to the re-opened National Palace Museum, but so did everyone else in Taipei I think. It’s best to avoid attractions on holiday weekends over here. We stayed with our friends Kim and Stephanie again, and had the usual blast. Kim is the minister at Taipei International Church, and his sermons are both intellectually rich and spiritually moving. Many preachers are one or the other but not both. Kim talked about one sermon he had read, with mention of a preacher who failed to stick up for an old black guy getting picked on in a diner. He quoted the punch line “As I walked away, I heard a rooster crow.” Comments like that fill me with an awareness of my own shortcomings, and a resolve to do better in the future.

I would like to end this week on a more cheerful note, with pictures instead of bad news. However, bad news it is. Lao-puo is in the hospital as I write, with more of her recurring back problems. The good news is the care is so wonderful here. She reported to the clinic at BTCGH yesterday afternoon, and immediately saw a neurologist, who sent her to emergency. She had an MRI within hours, and got admitted. Lao-puo is in a semi-private room, with marble wainscoting, and hardwood floors and wall paneling. There is even an ocean view, at no extra charge. The hospital has an army of Buddhist volunteers helping everyone, so I won’t have to take any time off work to look after her. I understand that there are 200 volunteers on shift during the day and evening, and overnight there is a crew of old girls in green uniforms to whom everyone refers as “the aunties”. The downside is that all the hospital meals are vegetarian, but I suppose you could look on that as motivation to get better as quickly as possible. Our American friend Nancy, a Buddhist nun, has been saintly in her caring and helpfulness.

Chinese people do not relate in the slightest to the western idea of making jokes about sickness, which is a shame. I like the good news and bad news variety of illness jokes, especially the one where the doctor phones his patient and says "I have some good news and bad news for you. The good news is that you are terminally ill, with 24 hours to live. The bad news is that I forgot to phone you yesterday."

By the way, BTCGH does not have a fourth floor, because "four" in Chinese sounds like the word for "death".

The good news is that Lao-puo will not require anything more than an outpatient procedure, which naturally pleases us to no end. Should be home by tomorrow. The bad news is that the sawbones told her to stay off motorbikes, to avoid spinal jarring.

I will silently insert my preferred oath at this point--once I make up my mind between scatology and blasphemy. You're hobbled in Hualien without a scooter. Be that as it may...

I remember, some years ago, Lao-puo drove a Ford T-bird, and for some reason I had borrowed her car that day. A bunch of us (female colleagues and I) went out for lunch. (Irene, do you remember?) I forget who the others were. Anyway, the route to the restaurant took us past the local high school, and I remember commenting "The old lady's T-Bird and a car full of girls at lunch time--a high school fantasy coming true thirty years too late.".

North American cars, except for Fords, are rare over here--take your pick between Nissan, Toyota, Hyundai, Suzuki, Daewoo, Mitsubishi, Renault, Fiat, Citroen, and a domestic job called "Formosa". Cars are almost always have automatic transmissions, and are equipped with air conditioning but not cruise control. Rattletraps are rare.

It seems that Lao-puo will have to trade her beloved little Elvis on a car. The Gods mock us! She was becoming very skilled, and enjoyed her little machine to no end. Now she wil have to wait in line at stoplights--no passing on the right or cutting in front of everyone. No more driving on the sidewalk--with the constable obligingly getting out of her way. No more parking right in front of wherever she is going. I used to enjoy riding behind her, watching my graceful little gazelle. Sometimes it was hard to keep up to her, her little sewing-machine engine notwithstanding,

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