Finding the rhythm of Taiwan

I'm sitting in Yvonne's chair while a monsoon drums on the roof. I just had two white knuckle trips on the scooter to go to church. The rain drops are larger than the States and traffic is crazy. I probably better think of something to eat besides a peanut butter sandwich and milk from the carton.

I love my ward so much. Yesterday I went with the ward to clean the building and after we scoured the kitchen, we went and ate" Beef noodle." They are so kind to me, so friendly and undaunted in the face of an extreme language barrier. Would I be that way if the roles were reversed? How do we teach this thinking-about-others? How valuable that could be in the world. They pulled me out of myself and soon I was walking into other wards' choir practices and joining in with my Pinyin hymnbook I bought at the BYU bookstore, simply because I like to sing and the SA's are so darn friendly. People treat the church like their homes, which is similar to Japan. This is bad news when it comes to cleaning the church because who knows what junk you find when people treat the church like it's their living room, but it is wonderful in that it shows how the ward functions: like a family the basic and strongest unit of society. Members confess to coming to the church just to feel better during the week when they are sad. I remember as a missionary the way the lighted church made me feel as we glided in after a long day. It felt like home even more than my missionary apartment.

I received a calling and a setting apart today: I'm the YW activity specialist. I guess I better learn how to be fun. I am so grateful that the Lord will use me. I was blessed with health and ability and a blessing on my language learning under the hands of a man who has insights into who I am and how I feel. The Lord loves us so much. I know so because the people in my life show me a kind of care and fellowship that must mean God is real.

From the minute I landed and met Scott Huang, I knew I had a friend. He is the sweetest man and an inspired bishop and a master teacher. He has ridden around with me for hours this past week—me on my moped, he on his motorcycle, to help me figure out directions. We've had several valuable talks as he helped guide me into what I could bring to my work and ward associations, drawing out my opinions and plotting some missionary opportunities for me. I think I found a new liege-lord. He plays with the ward members like he is 17 instead of 37. His wife Sara is one of these incredible Asian sisters—those who miraculously raise 5 children, do the work of the house, hold three callings and still find the time to help the new, lost English teacher find things at the grocery store. She invited me to do Tai Chi with her and I look forward to my Wednesdays because of the chance to hang out with the Huangs. I loved her almost instantly, too.

I asked her how she and Scott met. She recently returned from her mission in Taichung and was a bridesmaid at a wedding. At the last minute, the wedding party was without a best man and their social status was on the line because it's all about the wedding party/procession. (More about Taiwanese weddings later). The family was LDS and there was an American elder of Taiwanese ancestry who would work nicely serving in the branch. Elder Huang was asked and the request was granted by the mission president: He could play best man as long as his companion went along. Well, in Taiwan, the wedding party travels in a long procession of cars (Yay, processions! I told you I wasn't crazy!), the longer, the better, and the lead car tosses firecrackers out of the window into the street.

Elder Huang's American companion was given the job of tossing these explosives out the window and had the time of his life doing it. Elder Huang remained in Taiwan to visit family members and stayed to date the bridesmaid of the wedding. They sent the mission president a wedding invitation not long after. Isn't that a great story?

Their kids are wonderful. Having lived in the United States, the Huang children are all native speakers. Nine-year old Jessica and I make quite a pair. She's nine and I'm a long-legged red and white giant. She calls me up on the phone, teaches me and generally bosses me around as much as she likes. The oldest girls are in the United States going to school, Michelle, the 3rd sister is 14 and very tall. She came my second night and talked to me that night about everything. Nathan, the youngest and only boy is adorable. He's been going to Tai chi class with his parents for a while now and he can do the movements incredibly well. He and I have a tradition of ninja sword fighting with whatever we can get our hands on. As we spin and lunge, I am amazed by this 4 year old. As he hacks at my knees, clashes with my sword and takes swipes at my calves in our snake dance, he is so amazingly gentle and in control that I don't fear for my limbs. I wonder where he learned this—his father? The influence of Eastern concepts of do-no-harm? Jessica is quite good too. She does Tai Chi with a pirate-like sword 2/3 her height and it's so graceful to watch. I'm going to do this for the next 13 months. It's so relaxing and kakkoi.

Yvonne Wu, my roommate should get an email's-worth herself. Scott Lee Morris, a great guy and my fore-runner said I would be living with "a sweet woman who works in the office." I'm sorry to have to say this, Scott, but that is a little near-sighted. Yvonne is FLINTY and EFFICIENT and UNDERSTANDING and INTENSE and INDEPENDENT and FUNNY. I guess you can call it 'sweet' because she uses all her powers for good. She knows when to give you space, constructive criticism, when to commiserate with you, when to scheme. I love her so much with a little bit of fear mixed in—she has that fierceness which comes of being a very sensitive person. She reminds me of Sister Matsumoto, except patient. She is hilarious and a citizen of the world who rejects the unfair expectations of many Taiwanese women. We had long talks about this. You'll hear more about her as time goes on, depend on it. Mom, you'd love her. She loves France, she loves the humanities and she has excellent taste in everything. Why do Asian women seem old and young at the same time? It goes beyond appearance. So far I and Sister Weinheimer (One half of the sister missionaries assigned to our ward) are the only white women in Taliao township. Wild, huh.

Okay, more on teaching and my students next time. I'm still figuring out how to describe them in a few words. This email is long enough as it is. I stay so busy, and this is good—and kind of unavoidable. I was thinking about this hymn again today and how I've been blessed to have been kept from just pulling into myself by being forced to dig in and work.

'Tis better far for us to strive,

Our useless cares from us to drive

Do this and joy your hearts will swell

All is well. All is well.

Landed in a Strange Land; May 14, 2010

Taiwan is an island just my size, which is to say that it suits me in so many ways. Here are some reasons why:

• Taiwan's strained relations with China make my life beautiful: imports come from America and Japan—the stores are full of things I am familiar with.
  
• Japan ruled Taiwan and was kind of like their Victorian era; therefore, I am considered classy. I am American and speak English and am therefore "hip." I also sit next to the Japanese teacher in the office.
  
• There are no semis (relatives of the cicada)
  
• Taiwan reminds me of Japan in many ways but the people don't have so many fences up, are not nearly as materialistic or busy. (I can say these things without loving Japan any less. Love is a funny thing)
  
• Taiwan is a nation of bargain hunters—everyone's always asking everyone how much they paid for everything and anytime I'm told about something, the best recommendation is "it's cheap, it's cheap." I don't mind being asked how much I pay for everything from my flight to my computer case to my headphones. Retail is for suckers.
  

I arrived on Friday morning, Taiwan time, and I wasn't as much of a mess as I thought I'd be. My journey had 5 legs to it: Idaho Falls to SLC to LAX to Taipei to Kaohsiung and altogether it was about 30 hours long with the wait time in airports. I was almost giddy to stand in the lines at SLC and LAX and be surrounded by Asians. I sat by the nicest Vietnamese man across the Pacific and though we slept most of the time, it was a good flight. I woke up in time to fly over southern Japan and it's nice to know that that island is still there right where I left her. I'll have to make a trip over sometime.

I realize now that every time I've left the country it has been to go to an island—first England, then Japan and now Taiwan. Each time it has been a huge time of growth for me. We flew in over a deep blue, hazy ocean that was dotted with fishing boats.

Scott Huang came to pick me up and he's a sweet, smiley man, and my best friend so far. He has saved me on a number of occasions. He is very young for a bishop: late thirties/early forties. He had that way of looking delighted to see you, that only Asians have. I'd forgotten about the degree of genki-ness people can have, especially after LAX. (Genki is Japanese for being energetic, happy and generally full of beans(That's P. G. Wodehouse-ian for genki)).

What a first day I had! The streets are noisy and crowded, everyone rides a scooter and traffic is really petty gut wrenching but exhilarating. It was suffocatingly hot and humid, which again suits me and it is skin and hair heaven here. He drove to Taliao township which is the countryside, so I was told and the very last stop on the metro. In reality, it doesn't seem the least bit rural when compared with Idaho. My hair does what nature intended it to do: riotous curls! I was shown around the school and given rapid fire instructions and directions. The school is beautiful with enormous jungle trees which have purple orchids grafted into them, a couple of waterfalls and sweet people. I like everybody in the office already. Steve Yang, the head of international affairs, was baptized by a man from Rigby and learned to drive in a parking lot in Blackfoot. There were several office students working there who are fantastic. They were practicing their English by watching Chicken Run on someone's computer and saying the dialogue, with the emphasis and inflection along with the characters. I loved it when they did the Scottish Hen's voice. I think I've already given my heart to them.

Julie, the volleyball coach took me around. It was hot to be climbing up 7 floors and visiting several buildings but we managed it. She's easy-going and kind and answered my questions. There are several school dogs—that's right, dogs. They belong to employees of the school and are breedless and mostly good-tempered. They lay sprawled around in the heat, too tired to bark, and really filthy, but lovable, too. The office is crowded and there is little storage, There is a teetering pile of books on my desk and I'm overwhelmed, but I think I am happy that way. Julie also taught me to ride a scooter. I buzz around with my heart in my teeth: the streets are a total madhouse, which is terrifying, but a small part of me finds it kind of thrilling. I can, in fact I'm expected to do all kinds of rude things at unthinkable speeds that I always felt bad about doing on my bike in Tokyo.

I can't believe I forgot about the smell—that kind of hot-with-everything-peacefully-molding smell. Not bad, just foreign. It's very tropical and the sounds of birds are different except someone has a rooster and I am here to tell you that I get up earlier than he does. I'm in that golden place where jet lag is my friend: I wake up at 5 AM and feel tired at 9PM. I will write more about my students and teaching next time.

Oh, here are some of the downsides:

• In my first 10 minute walk, I saw no less than 2 large rats climbing around the drains. I'd never seen a rat in the wild before. Ick.
  
• All water must be filtered and then boiled or purchased.
  
• I miss my dear ones and will have some pretty lonely times. I will be better for it, but at times I worry that I will get so used to being alone that I'll never get out of it.
  

All is well.