November

It's been a while, hasn't it?  Hope this update finds you all in good spirits, health, and fortune.  


I'm well.  Every day is so different from the last one, which is good.  I still wake up some days and feel like I live among aliens.  Or maybe I'm the alien?  That's sounds about right.  It's just so very different here, and in a good way most of the time.  I don't know, you should see for yourself (this is the part where you stop reading this and research airfare).  


One thing I will say is it's easy to feel alone here.  I have been fortunate to make many wonderful friends, and it's rare that a single day goes by when I don't see one of them.  But no matter how many friends or acquaintances you come upon in this place, you will never feel so completely and utterly alone in your life.  The kind of alone where you feel like you're drowning a little bit.  Every day is a roller coaster. One minute I'm laughing at a table full of people and the next minute I'm driving home with nothing but worrisome thoughts.  "What am I doing with myself?"  


What do we want?  There's an interesting topic and a reoccurring theme in my life the last few months.  We make decisions every day, don't we?  We walk into Starbucks or some other over-priced coffee joint and know that we want a tall, low-fat caramel macchiato.  We know we want a nice cell phone or those shoes we saw at Macy's last week.  And we make decisions about these little, insignificant things... because we know what we want.  We also know what we are capable of.  Well, lately I've been struggling with figuring out what it's going to take to make myself happy.  What I want for the rest of my life.  What preparations, steps, advances do I need to make now in order to get there?  I'm at the proverbial fork in the road.  And I'm sitting in the middle of the damn road.  


The problem with transitional periods is they give us so much time to reflect.  Reflection is a healthy thing in moderation, much like alcohol and Haribo gummy worms.  But when that's all you do day in and day out, it's going to eat your soul.  The past can haunt you, and I'm not even referring to bad memories or bad feelings.  Just the past, in general.  The good, the bad, and the nothing.  There have been regular neuron misfirings in my brain as of late.  I will be having a discussion with someone and then some random, obscure memory will cloud my brain.  And it's not even one of those situations where you see the "connection" or where you are reminded of something.  It's a completely unexplainable, even out-of-body experience where you wonder why you just thought about that one guy you met at a bar over the summer who never said anything profound or worth remembering, but something about the way he walked was intriguing.  And now you're picturing his intriguing walk in your mind while you stare at this 400 year-old temple in the cold, pelting rain.  


Transitional periods are slippery.  You can never quite catch your footing.  You're a different person from one day to the next.  I'm fortunate in that I like who I'm becoming here.  I like who I am, but I miss who I was sometimes.  The simplicity of my life before all of this distance seems like a far-off memory.  And I can't help but wonder, is this life?  The constant pining for previous simplicity?  


I selfishly ponder all of this.  Then later I go to a little food stand on the side of the road and watch a little boy who is all of 5 years old help his mom sweep up cockroaches while she prepares my soup.  He has one toy.  It's an old, crusty batman figurine.  My eyes go from the boy to the roaches to batman to his weary mother.  I think about his future.  What will this kid amount to?  What opportunities will be afforded to him?  Is his future in this broken-down food stand?  And that's when I feel ashamed for ever complaining or worrying or wondering.  That's when I am just happy to have my soup.  That's when my typically American, egocentric brain shuts up.


So, I was riding in the mountains the other day trying to scrounge up some video footage.  I didn't find a whole lot of footage, but I did find a puppy.  I was riding along, taking in the scenery, when I spotted this brown and white beagle-looking puppy running down the road.  I was in a pretty secluded area full of palm trees and rice paddies.  I stopped my scooter and got off.  Immediately the puppy ran to me and did what puppies do... melt your heart.  I looked around for any sign of life-- anyone who might claim ownership of this helpless creature.  Nothing.  I gave it some water and cursed myself for not being smart enough to have any food on me (you should always have something in your bag, in case you should come across a puppy or something).  The clock ticked and before I knew it I spent almost an hour sitting on the side of the road with this dog. 


He just sat next to me and stared at me with these huge, brown eyes.  Despite being a puppy, he wasn't very puppy-like.  There was this strange air of wisdom about him like he knew his fate or something.  Or maybe he knew mine.  We consoled each other for some time without even knowing it.  I looked at the clock and knew I had to get going before it got dark.  I put my helmet on and started for my scooter, and to my surprise, the puppy laid against my kickstand... almost as if to say, "Please don't leave."  And I did what any wretched, heartless person would do.  I drove away.  I drove away because I had to.  Because I couldn't help him.  Because, like every island dog, he needed to learn how to survive.  And I swear to you on everything I own, everyone I love, that as I rode away I saw him running after me in my rearview mirror.  I cried a little down the mountain but it was one of those poignant moments that provides unusual clarity.  I realized that he and I shared something in common. 


Dogs chase after scooters.  People chase after answers.  I've been chasing something.  We all do.  But you can't just run to and from things all the time because you miss what really matters-- and that's every single precious moment you find yourself in.  Doesn't matter if you know what you want or where you're going or what the hell you're doing.  All you really can do is be happy with your soup.  And I'm gonna work on that.

"So Miss Me... Send Me Some Light and Love, and Drop it."

Hello there!  Its been at least a few weeks since my last post, and there's simply no excuse for it.  Well, actually there kind of is... I have been rather busy.  Work is killing me, BUT in exchange for all the mental and physical exhaustion, I have reaped some wonderful rewards!  My 1st and 6th grade classes are beginning to understand the "routine" I've set for them this year, and they are responding well to it.  My 1st grade has been behaving better, or perhaps I should say I understand the kind of direction they need better than when I first started.  Anyway, things are looking up in the teaching department, so that's good.  Now if I can only get organized with this whole grading thing... What a fiasco that has been!


As for my every day life, there hasn't been a whole lot going on.  I had one too many drinks last weekend and have decided to take a break from drinking.  There's some news.  Sorry you had to read that, Mom!  The good news is it won't be too hard to cut that activity out of my schedule, as I'm pretty broke (well at least until Friday-- PAY DAY!).


Ohhhhhh pay day... let's discuss, shall we?  The rather exciting thing about pay day is Ms. Katina will be receiving her very first big girl paycheck, which will signify one solid step towards official freedom (aka a set of wheels).  Friday can't come soon enough.  Seriously.  It's hard for me to put into words just how difficult it was for me to go from having a car available to me 24/7 to complete immobility.  Don't get me wrong, I've been walking places, but please keep in mind that it's been almost 100 degrees here every day with 100% humidity.  Not to mention, we just finished up the monsoon season.  You don't want to walk anywhere and get caught in flash floods or blowing rain.  


So, I feel like I should explain the photograph that accompanies this post.  My roommate, our co-worker, and I went to this beautiful neighboring town on Saturday that lies about 45 minutes outside Taichung.  The town is calling "Taiping."  It was a breathtaking ride there as the scenery gradually morphed from big city to small city to small town to factories to tiny vegetable markets to farms to nothing but mountains as far as the eye could see.  There were some parts of the drive that actually reminded me a bit  of India, the drive from the Goan airport to the heart of the endless Goan beaches (minus beaches, sub mountains).  If you haven't driven in such a remote, exotic place, do it.  I have never felt so high on life as when I'm exploring the natural beauty and dichotomy of this part of the world.  The contrast of toothless women lounging on make-shift chairs (or buckets) to luscious palm tree and bamboo forests will force upon you the NatGeo, surrealism of it all.  When I escape the city, I simultaneously check out of reality.  You could tell me I'm dreaming, and I'd probably believe you.  And that's when I say to myself... "I think I like it here."  Or "We're not in Kansas anymore."  I prefer the former, as the latter is a bit overdone, no?


Let me paint a picture for you.  You're coasting up a mountain on a sandy, rocky road that's about 12 feet wide (and occasionally missing large chunks of cement).  Just beyond the edge of the road is the end.  No kidding.  The cliff drops off, well I don't even want to guess, but let's just say you'd be plummeting to your death.  The only thing between you and your possible plummet to death are naturally occurring bamboo shoots that merely obstruct the fantastic view (let's just say if you had to die this way, it would be one fall to "die for").  You almost wish the plants weren't there.  The climb is starting to get steeper and windier.  You're straining your eyes to see around the next hairpin turn when your focus is broken by a "popping" sound.  Your mind and heart are racing to see which can give you a life-threatening condition first, and you begin praying to God or Buddha or Ganesh or Ellen Degeneres that that sound was not coming from your brakes.  And MUCH to your dismay, a car, of all things at a time like this, tears around the corner at an ungodly speed (any speed is ungodly in this scenario) causing you to instinctively flinch.  Your flinch creates a domino effect of sudden movements that jerk your front wheel toward "the end."  Your mind starts playing a montage of prominent memories, ya know, like the way it would before you drove off a cliff or something.......... and just when you think you should not have stepped one foot outside of Kansas, the "deer in the headlights" inside you surrenders to autopilot.  You don't know how or why or where or what but you come out of it, you recover, you straighten out.  You're basic survival instincts are not as deflated as you had thought.  So not only did you renew the faith you have in yourself, but you are once again, coasting up a majestic mountain and kind of enjoying yourself.  Not relaxing though.  Not until your feet are on the ground, of course.    


And that's only up the mountain.  Down is a whole other animal.


So, basically, life is never boring here.  I'm definitely more aware of my mortality than I've ever been, that's for sure... but that's the kind of "shock to the system" I need right now in my life.  Some people don't desire that or seek it, but I know I would have exploded with regret somewhere down the road if I hadn't tested myself.  Road... life is one big road.  "Every road leads us farther from home."  Iron and Wine song?  I think so.  And a good one, at that.  But back to testing myself... I have never felt so scared, so ill-equipped, so capable, and so contradictory in my life.  Every day is a wonderful battle.  I have self-doubts, but I'm in the bullpen rolling my sleeves up.  Because I have to be.  And there it is!  That's it!  The biggest lesson I've learned thus far in my young life, and I figured it out without the help of Ralph Waldo Emerson, but through my own life experiences (and isn't the issue of intellectual property pretty questionable, anyway?):


ALWAYS DO WHAT YOU ARE AFRAID TO DO.


I am downright afraid that that's what my life has come down to these days, but I have also never been this happy with myself in my whole life.  Forget all the things I can't control, like distance and money and an uncertain future.  The me, in this very moment, is all I could hope for for myself.  The strides I've made in the last month and a half astound me.  There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not proud of my accomplishments, however minor they may be.


And isn't that all we ever want, just to be proud of who we are?


So, before I draw this self-explorative bullshit to a close (that will be read by all of 3 people-- "Hi Dad!"), grant me the courtesy of saying one more thing, or suggesting something rather.  I was recently bowled over with inspiration by a film.  "Eat, Pray, Love," based on the novel by Elizabeth Gilbert, is an incredible journey that will make you laugh, make you cry, break your heart, mend your heart, and ultimately change your attitude toward life if you will let it.  I am usually not a big fan of film adaptations, especially since I read this book, but the movie gives the book a run for it's money.  Forget the cinematography or the elegant performance given by Julia Roberts, see it for the priceless, underlying messages it provides.


One particular piece from this film stuck with me and just so happens to be the title of this post.  It refers to missing someone.  Missing someone means there's a void that that person used to fill.  We allow that void to eat a whole in our heart and essentially take something away from us.  The quote, "So miss me... send me some light and love, and drop it," to me, means that you must acknowledge the void and then release it.  You can't focus on the temporary, emotional discomforts because there will always be things trying to burden you and break you throughout your entire life.  You simple can't carry that weight.  


Make time for this film.  It will be one to remember for always.


And let me leave you with one, last excerpt from "Eat, Pray, Love."  It's a good one.  Thanks for reading my blog and caring about my life.  I really wish I had time to write more of these because it can be quite cathartic.  Anyway, miss you all... and love you with every fiber of my being!


"A friend took me to the most amazing place the other day. It's called the Augusteum. Octavian Augustus, the first true great emperor of Rome, built it to house his remains. When the barbarians came they trashed it along with everything else.  It's one of the quietest, loneliest places in Rome.  The city has grown up around it over the centuries. It feels like a precious wound, a heartbreak you won't let go of because it hurts too good. We all want things to stay the same. Settle for living in misery because we're afraid of change, of things crumbling to ruins. Then I looked at around to this place, at the chaos it has endured - the way it has been adapted, burned, pillaged and found a way to build itself back up again. And I was reassured, maybe my life hasn't been so chaotic, it's just the world that is, and the real trap is getting attached to any of it.  Ruin is a gift.  Ruin is the road to transformation."

Transitions and Translations

I've been here a little over a week, and I still can't catch my breath.   This place transcends the imagination.  There isn't a single morning I wake up that I don't have to remind myself where the hell I am.  It's wonderful.  For those of you who don't know much about Taiwan, well... words don't do somewhere like this much justice.  Hell, pictures don't even do this place a shred of justice.  But, alas, I shall do my best.

The entire island of Taiwan is about 250 miles from the top to the very bottom, at which point the Tropic of Cancer runs right through it.  Consequently, the weather here is no less than scorching hot on a daily basis.  In fact, it's so hot here that there is almost no point in showering if you are going to spend more than an hour outside.  For those who know me, this was not an easy fact to face (my 20 minute showers have drastically reduced to a mere 5).  As it is the rainy season/typhoon season, the sun usually bakes the island from about 9am until 4pm and then rains for a good portion of the late afternoon.  If you are going to live in Taiwan, you best have some top-of-the-line rain gear.  Fortunately for me, I have a 300NT ($6 US) raincoat from the local superstore.  It's been lovely walking home in pouring rain that feels like individual bullets (sense the sarcasm, people).

As far as my routine is concerned, let's start with my walk to work.  My walk to work usually takes about 7 minutes, and in that time, I see no less than 5 stray animals.  Depressing, yes, but I'm slowly beginning to respect and understand this strange "ecosystem."  For example, I went to pet and feed a stray the other day and almost got my hand chewed up.  Over the last week or so, I've gradually stopped pitying these animals and begun to respect them for their mighty survival instincts.  Seriously, dogs in the worst ghettos of America have nothing on the animals here!  These animals are more independent than most people I know, and if you even try to "make their life easier," they will probably eat you.

So, work... For those of you who don't know, I am teaching a 1st grade class and a 6th grade class.  After a little over a week of teaching and countless hours of preparation, I find myself constantly pondering one question: why don't teachers earn a shit-load of money?  It is no less than pathetic that we (as in the entire world) impress upon our children how vital it is they get a good education when we place such a low value on those who do the educating... literally.  Please note that I am not complaining about my pay, but I am merely expressing my frustration with the little appreciation teachers get (and this lack of appreciation is universal).  I suppose part of this upset stems from the fact that I never really realized how much my teachers and professors did for me over the years.  Being on the other side of the coin really allows you to see how much work and worry goes into lesson planning, teaching, and not to mention, inspiring!  Luckily, my kids are truly wonderful...  That's not to say I haven't had any trouble with them, but as I become more comfortable with teaching, I have been conjuring up different, more tactful approaches to my lessons.  So far, so good!  I will say, though, if I decide to pursue teaching I don't think 1st grade is for me.

Anyway, overall, the last couple weeks have been good.  The low point was getting sick with tonsillitis and missing a day of work, but I'm kind of glad I got sick early on because getting sick in a foreign country for the first time is always kind of a traumatic ordeal.  Now I know where the doctor is and I'm not as worried about the next time, which hopefully won't be for a while.

So last weekend I had intended on moping around and doing work, but my awesome co-workers encouraged me to go out.  What a night.  Saturday we went to a bar called Fubar, which is basically a foreigner hang out.  The bar is located in a part of the city called "Little Europe," which as you can imagine attracts many expats.  There were about five of us who went out, but our group quickly grew to about nine when some US sailors walked up to us and bought us a bunch of shots.  Though it was nice getting the free drinks, they were pretty annoying.  One of them in particular was quite the blubbering idiot.  He was fairly intoxicated, but I still can't believe what a jackass he was.  This guy asks me where I'm originally from and I tell him the suburbs of Detroit.  He says to me, "Detroit?  Last time I was in Detroit a 300 lb black dude walked up to me and tried selling me cocaine."  Okay, so you probably had to be there and understand the way he said it, but he was basically dissing the city.  Though I can't say I a am a true Detroiter, it sort of pissed me off to hear someone talking negatively about Detroit, especially someone who isn't even from there or familiar with the wonderful things it has to offer.  I'm sick of people believing the stereotypes and all the bullshit portrayals of the city courtesy of the devil media.  I highly doubt this guy has even been to Detroit if he had that experience.  I mean, where the hell was he anyway?  Ah well, whatever.

Well, that's all I got.  I'll try to write more often than every two weeks but I've been so busy getting acclimated.  I'll let everyone know as soon as I post a new blog.  Hope everyone is happy and healthy and all in one piece.  Much love!

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