to the tune of nelly: it's getting cold in here...

I've never had to open classroom windows to let in warm air.

non-christmas

There isn't Christmas consumerism blasting out of every speaker here and assaulting every rod and cone, and that makes me happy. I hate how in the states everything starts right after October, and it's relentless. Reminds me of Israel, where I completely forgot it was Christmas until I saw G.'s kids drawing Christmas trees around noon. It was a relief. That being said, I keep forgetting to buy Christmas presents.

what are you?

I did this exercise with my kids yesterday, asking them to give three answers to the question, "Who are you?" Very few of them mentioned race, although that's usually my first or second answer. Chinese-American, I always say, emphasizing the American. Usually have to convince people that I grew up in the states; the Bulgarians never believed me. Now, strangely, I am still confronted by questions about my race. I'm getting "Korean?" more and more recently; am I turning Korean? I still haven't opened the monster thing of kimchi that I bought at the beginning of the year. Hm.

This racial questioning happened in the states a bit, and god knows I do it too, but people are more pc there, so they are less likely to hazard a guess. The Chinese do not have this compunction. They know that my accent is off, but they're not sure why, so it's very likely I'm from another country. It's so strange to move to a country where I finally look like everyone else, and still get my race questioned. Yabasayah?

The birthplace of bubble tea

Ordering bubble tea is a complex project. It's somewhere between ordering a latte at starbucks, and buying a house.

[Original transcript]

I walk up to the window. The women at the tea stand greet my approach by singing / yelling "huan(0) ing(2) guang(3) LAAAAAAAAANG!!" (WelCOOOOOOME!!) One leads the other two, so it's a rondo of welcome.

"Oh, uh, a honey lemon tea, please, hot."

"We don't do honey lemon hot. It's too blfdsufiofdfsse (unrecognized Chinese words)."

"Ah. Well, what kinds of hot tea do you have?"

"Here's the menu (pointing.) This is the column for hot teas, like black tea."

"Oh, which ones are popular?" Desperately trying not to reveal that I'm illiterate.

"Well, we have icovuaernae, and vjfidosfje."

"Ah, can I have the first one?" Success.

"Sure, how much sugar should we add? Here's the sugar chart. (Pointing at something with numbers and decimals.)"

"Oh, um, not a lot of sugar." Gah, not success.

"Well, that type of tea isn't very good with only a little sugar. It makes the flavor more tacky. Sticks to your teeth."

"Okay... then with normal sugar." Eyes dilating.

"Excellent choice!"

"Great." Turning to wait, relieved.

"And normal temperature? Or we could make it room temperature."

"YES, normal temperature. Oh wait, and can you add bubbles?"

"We're out of the big ones now; are the small bubbles okay?"

"Sure."

"Here's a mini sample of tea while you're waiting." (With about 50 grams of sugar in it.)

5 minutes later, amidst sugar vibrations.

"Here's your tea. The small straw will allow the small bubbles to be sucked up, but be careful that you don't choke to death on them."

"Okay, thanks." Turning to return to my double parked car.

They chase me away with, in rondo: "GUANG LAAAAAAAANG." "guang laaaang."

Hong Kong

New favorite city. S., I am so upset with you for not telling me I should move there before I decided to podunk it to Taichung. It's just foreign enough to feel like I'm in a foreign country, but incredibly easy to navigate. The transportation system is New York's, only cleaner and possibly more efficient, and everyone speaks a bit of English although the general language is Cantonese. SoHo feels like London, and its population breakdown is more European than Chinese. So, essentially, I love Hong Kong because it's easier and more familiar. I guess I'm getting soft in my old age.

Statue of my uncle on the walk of stars.

It was really nice to be back in a cosmopolitan city, too. I didn't realize how much I missed living somewhere where things are usually clean, and there are upscale restaurants and bars. And I know that I'm not supposed to like trendy, but I do like trendy. I miss being somewhere I can pop into an H and M and run out with something relatively fashionable and cheap. I kept on saying that I belonged there, but even more so than New York. New York is my favorite city, but Hong Kong is easier. New York will kick your ass. Hong Kong will pretend to kick it, but then take you home to a nice dinner anyway. My favorite parts were going for a drink at Felix, a super trendy and incredibly small bar in 28th floor restaurant in the Sheraton building, dinner at a cute tapas place in Soho, and getting my hair done plus a mani / pedi at a place S. recommended. At one point, I had five people attending to me in the salon, and I felt like I should be going to some awards show in a mostly glitter catsuit or something. I'm usually not someone who goes for the chic chic (am I?); I've been going to the same Vietnamese 10 dollar hair place in San Jose for years. But this, this was worth it.

And seriously, the best dim sum I've had in my life.

The tango was super cool, too. Well, not super super cool, but super cool. The community is approximately the same size as the Taiwan one, perhaps a little bigger, but they're more into nuevo there, which was a welcome switch. I love salon tango the most, but I've been doing the same steps for four months. I've been thinking more about embellishments, so it's fine, and I do love me some salon tango, but it's refreshing to be dancing a different style. Also, the men there are willing to take me out for a spin and some are higher level than those in Taiwan. I'm working my way into the advanced crowd here though (but am I, really?), so it's getting better, but the HK crowd gave me a shot immediately. I danced three nights in a row, which was like settling back into an familiar upscale sweater. I do love me some trendy sometimes.

Traveling by funicular to the bigget buddha in... somewhere.


Bar / Club scene is fabulous too. I guess I haven't tried to go somewhere nice for a while... there are definitely upscale clubs in Taipei, but I'm too lazy and alone there to try to find people to go with, and mostly I like clubs for dancing as opposed to ambience or crowd. We ended up in an area that should be called European row, since that was the population there. People were soooo cool and dressed well, and as for man-watching, it was like being in a gay bar... super well groomed and beautiful. But straight. :) We ended up in a kinda secret place called Drop that was a fabulous place to dance. I think the dj was good (although at that point, I wasn't necessarily in a state to tell), and the crowd was awesome, and it was a fun night, to say the least. :)

I didn't want to come here. I thought it was a waste of time. I kept trying and trying to convince myself that it wasn't, that it was good for me, that I was going to get to "discover my roots," (on the count of three: CLICHE), get to know my family, blardy blar blar. It was only for two years, after all. Two years pass quick, and then I can be on to bigger and better things, like dancing tango every night, duh. But all of that justification, and I still couldn't answer the question, "So do you like it here?" I just kind of waved my hand and said something along the lines of, it's not whether I enjoy being here or not, it's that I'm used to it and it feels normal, like anywhere you've lived. But no, of course I didn't like it here. Why would I?

I had just left Buenos Aires, which was coming home, with the milongas and the familiarity: same stores, same organization, the Spanish finally clicking. Left New York, my home for seven years, just three or four shy of being a "new yorker," just left trapeze and its beloved affiliates, just left my tango lessons and partners, just left all my friends and the food and popping out of a subway stop and knowing _exactly_ where I needed to go because I just cross the street toward the B and N, past the coffee shop, kitty corner from the store with the blue awning, _that_ direction. Knowing the landmarks. Knowing where the public restrooms are within five blocks. How could I leave that for Taiwan, of all places?

Some of my friends expressed surprise at my coming here. "You? Taiwan?" their eyebrows raised in disbelief. I was like, "What?! I can be Asian." And they were like, "well, you just didn't seem the type, that's all." And they're right. I'm not the type.

But now maybe I'm closer. I love living in a country where I look like everyone else. I don't have to worry about double takes (unless I'm wearing my purse strap across my torso, in which case it's just outright boob staring. Men here don't do it so much, so they're not as adept as hiding it.), don't have to worry about someone bothering me or targeting me because I'm yellow, like yelling konichiwa or nihao, or better yet, ching chong or cheeeeena at me. I feel... normal. For the first time, in any country. I know, i know, I've lived in China, but now, my Mandarin is better, and the culture is different, like they kind of have manners, which sincerely surprised me. (Just don't get behind the wheel of a car.)

And I like being just outside of society. E. once told me that that's what she liked about being an expat; you're a little outside, so you can do whatever you want without seeming too weird. You can do activities they would just blink at stateside, because you're not one of them, just the crazy American and besides, you can't even read Chinese. I like that. I have an excuse for feeling just enough outside that I am completely myself. I'm not sure if that's what E. meant, but that's what I mean.

beach tango

I know, I know, you keep asking for pictures / videos of me dancing, and I have nothing. Well, now I have SOMETHING. Actually, it's not much, so perhaps it's more like something. But I like the something that I unabashedly cribbed from my friend's facebook page, although he doesn't know it... yet. Anyway, with so much ado about nothing, here's a picture of me dancing tango with D. on the beach in Tainan.

It was a nice dance.