Taiwanese Can Change Their Minds

     The people of Taiwan, by which I mean the Taiwanese, have a deep commitment to the quality of life, so long as they are not distracted by the modern world or waylaid by corporate capitalism's throw-away society. The people of Taiwan want to do what is right. The origin of this spirit is in dispute, but we all know where it did not come from. 
     A better example of this Taiwanese righteousness cannot be demonstrated more than through my wife who, with graciousness, can stand up to anyone for what is right, and not lose a beat.  For twenty-five years, her fairness has graced me.
     When complete strangers show flexibility adhering to what is right, that is remarkable. It seems like many an adult in Asia could not care less about propriety so long as their face is saved and outcome is profitable. That a friendliness exists towards strangers on the street is what Taiwanese are famous for, but first you have to crack the shell of disillusionment they grew to insulate themselves from the betrayals of their American and Chinese saviors from World War II. 
     There are four examples I would like to draw on to describe the ability of Taiwanese to reform and adjust themselves, contrary to the stereotype of being otherwise endowed: a lady customer in a department store and three men; two scooter drivers, and one a pedestrian. 
     Humble flexibility to apologize and mend one's ways occurred while standing in the elevator bank of the Chung-Yo Department Store one early weekday afternoon. My wife stood not more than two feet from me discussing what we would have for lunch when a young woman in her 30's, well-dressed and heeled, came out of the street to hurry through the entrance and then between us swiftly to her elevator that had just arrived. Cynical we were in condemning the couth of she who transgressed and we spoke of her unabashedly, in English, after we three were going up.
     "I am so sorry," she said turning slightly with only a sincere hurt look on her tastefully made-up face. 
     "You are absolutely right; I shouldn't have done what I did. Please accept my apology," she almost begged. 
     The embarrassment was put on me, speaking rudely in an elevator as if she weren't there or wouldn't understand. How crude of me.  She was apologized to. In Taiwanese culture one can owe up to oneself; stiff dogmatism must have emigrated from elsewhere. 
     Another time, I was riding on the back of my wife's scooter when a young man rear-ended us at a stop light. The classic fender-bender occurred when my wife stopped short at a traffic light that was about to turn red. With drivers jumping the gun on the cross street, it was a wise move, but the tail-gating Taiwanese man expected her to go though as he followed. We were all okay with no damage but we got off our scooters to begin an argument. 
     "It is your fault for stopping short; why didn't you go through?" She was in her right to stop at the red and he was wrong for driving too fast and close behind. He was expecting to run the red light in tandem with her. 

     My wife, never to back down when she thinks she is right, answered him back, warned him about verbally assaulting her, and went to call 119 on her cell phone; the call didn't go through, anyway. The threat might have been the turning point, or perhaps it was his seeing me take a photo of his licence plate number, but he softened his tone and started to see things our way. All my wife wanted was an apology from him for tail-gating us and then blaming us for his error. The young man reconsidered his stance, realized it was indeed his fault, and apologized in English and Mandarin. 
     We were glad we avoided the disaster and went on our ways. He needn't have been so defensive. Perhaps it was that she was a woman he felt he could bully. Perhaps he stopped because I was a male Caucasian twice his size and age. I think he stopped arguing because he realized he was wrong and was sincerely regretful. Taiwanese can change their minds given the chance to think things over. 

     The pedestrian, a lanky six-foot man in his fifties,  was met on the streets of Feng-Yuan where I had gotten lost riding my bicycle. I wasn't sure which way the train station was and he was passing by. I asked for his indulgence in answering my question but he continued passing by. When he was a few feet away, I said loudly in Mandarin, "Thank you," sarcastically, not expecting him to hear. He heard. He stopped. He turned. He doubled back. He stared at me. I asked him the travel question. He broke into a smile and, with hand signals, explained how I could reach the train station I was looking for. I thanked him, sincerely. 
     It was then that I realized I was again the recipient of Taiwanese hospitality. How easy it was to crack the shell of disregard when the content of the character is not hard-boiled; natural Taiwanese friendliness came oozing out. 
     The last example of Taiwanese mind-changing capacity, and the man who inspired this article, was met by me as I sat on my usual bench along the western banks of the Han River near Tan-Zih. He was a scooter driver who, for convenience, chose to ride down the bicycle path, as others often do, instead of staying on the road alongside the sidewalk. He parked the scooter behind me, exhaust fumes flying in my face, and dismounted with a plastic bag in his hand which he then dumped into a public litter basket beside the bench on the grassy mall. 

     "Why are you throwing your house refuse out here?" I asked in Mandarin. "This is a public receptacle," I went on in a slightly angry tone. I had had enough of sitting through the wafting stench of trash in the Taiwan sun and batting the flies that mistook my body as bait to lilt upon. The can would be overflowing with trash within the week with no pick-up for a month. 
     "It is a can for my trash," the forty-year old working man replied, engine on, still wearing his helmet, a smile on his at my incredulity. He asked how I knew Mandarin so well and if I were a teacher. I told him I wasn't in the mood for a chat and he should save his household trash  for the truck making its daily rounds. Residents of Taichung hear Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" blaring through speakers and know the garbage truck is coming up the street.  It is time for us to answer the call and beat it to the roadside for pick-up.
     I though he had taken offense to my words; my muscles tightened preparing for an attack as I would if I was so bold to complain to a stranger on the streets of Brooklyn. He turned, walked back to his scooter and I though he was getting his weapon. It was not to happen. Instead, he turned off the scooter engine, removed his helmet, and returned to the scene of the filthy crime. He removed his bag, emptied the content of soda cans onto the ground, and commenced to crushing the aluminum containers. 
      His moment of destiny, his epiphanic experience of sudden intuitive understanding had arrived. He spoke. "Do you like Taiwan?"
     "I love Taichung," I said. "I think this is a beautiful place."
     "So do I," he said as he placed the crushed cans together and fished out another bag from the litter can. He realized that we both loved living in Taiwan; his absentminded pollution would be the end to all we loved. He squatted categorized each recyclable on the ground and we chatted. 
     It made me feel ashamed that I had not thought of recycling the trash can myself! It would have solved my problem and benefited others who chose to enjoy the scenery from the riverside bench. I will buy a broom for my next hiatus. 
     Our conversation, our reward for being caring humans who could be reasoned with, brought us into each other's lives. We asked about each other's doings and I reminded him to sanitize his hands the first chance he got.  
     To the jaded ex-pats and greedy hordes who have grown like mold to exploit the pristine landscape of Taiwan, you too will have a chance one day to change the road you are on. Meanwhile, return Taiwan to itself, its characteristic care for nature and hospitality to strangers, to remember what Taiwan is all about.
     Like the town folk and farmers  on the island, so nice to invaders who they had no idea would slaughter them, steal their land, and deaden their sensibilities. The nature of the Taiwanese people, close to the primal source, has a chance to grow back, warmed by sun and nourished by the tropical rain, to give birth to a better Taiwan from the shell of the same old same old. Can you change your minds, too? 

American Eagle Poetry Speech Contest

    5-28-15

American Eagle had its annual speech contest yesterday at the Youth Center where we had it last year. I had been practicing with my students for a few months. Unlike other classes that had one poem for a dozen students, only two students could do the same poem in my 3B class. They practiced well and we had fun, especially with The Unicorn by Shel Silverstein which we had sung at Fun Day 

 Four of the seven finalists at yesterday's Speech Contest (though there were only poems read) were from my one class including the top vote-getter, Megan. Nine of the eleven students in it showed up to perform unlike the four other upper-level classes they clumped ours with. Venus, who won last year, placed third this year. I'm most proud of Lilly who placed sixth after a horrible term of bronchitis absences and hospitalization. 

Taichung Mayor's Award for Best Students

     6-7-15

 We went to Lin Yun-Yang's photo op with the Mayor Lin and hundreds of other 'first in their classes' from private and public schools, elementary to middle school. Mayor Lin just stood and smiled for the camera with the kids, a few at a time. I was glad it only lasted a half hour. Yun-Yang was proud and smiling. Only his mother was there to represent his family. Leona and I took photos with our smart phones. 

     When my wife was a kid in Tan-Zih, the mayor only gave out awards to one student per grade. now he gives them out to one in every class in every school, public and private. Still it is an honor not to be taken lightly. 

P.J.'s Open Mike on Soho Street

   Red Rob is playing at an open mike at a place in Taichung this Saturday evening. He sent me an invitation. I'm going. . I will bring my blues harp just in case there is room for me to blow a tune or join Red Rob. Who knows? I should resign myself to just going there for friendship and entertainment though. 

     I am still disappointed about the shabby treatment I got from Trevor at Red Room in Taipei in October and have no plans to return unless it is something special. 

5-31-15 

     I went to the corner of the alley where Salut Pizza is and sat outside P.J's with about nine people including Red Rob, his girlfriend, Andres, Austin, to drink beer, eat tasteless German sausage and potato, and listen to blues. I played along on my new blues harp to a song and later did my rendition of Roadhouse Blues. I could have done Stormy Monday but Red took the vocals away and played in a key my 'A' harp would join. It was a nice evening, without Leona who opted to go with her cousin to see an old singer who converted at a church and was regretful. 

6-14-15 

      I rode the bike to P.J.’s again last evening. Red Rob called for an open mike again. I was out all afternoon with Leona near Chung Yo for lunch, to get new ear-bud headphones, and to get fitted for a tooth cap and was tired when we got home at 5:30pm because of the heat, but I rested for an hour and rode off to the Westside. I met Hank, a teacher here from NYC who spent a year in Norman Thomas H.S. and a number of other ex-pats. I had three beers and disgusting chicken wings. McKenna, the owner of P.J.’s makes terrible food. McKenna told me he closes the store on July 4^th to join an event in the park so I cancelled the Morrison Memorial Day I had unilaterally planned. I ended up singing “Roadhouse Blues” again on the blues harp and a truncated “Train Time.” It was fun. The next open mike will be in two weeks and then Red said there will be no more until September. On the way home, at ten o’clock (!), I stopped off at Belling’s for some leg ham and sausages. 

Bicycle Overhaul

5-26-15 

     When Giant changed the back wheel and gear rotor on my bike last week, they bent the valve. That's why when I picked the bike up Saturday morning the tire needed air. They pumped it up enough for me to ride the river but I didn't notice the tire was becoming deflated for two days because of the rain, until yesterday morning when I was setting off for Mandarin tutorial. I had to take a taxi there; 190NT. Leona brought me back on the scooter. The Giant dealer was closed Monday so I also needed a ride to and from American Eagle in the evening. I will bring the bike in for a new valve today after we get back from my dental appointment near Chung-Yo Dept. Store.

After the seventh day in a row of rain, sometimes torrential, there have been some clearing ups, like last Saturday morning when, after retrieving my bike from the Giant dealer, I rode up the Han, and a morning or two when I could sit on the and has patio and have coffee, such as today. It rained almost all day yesterday though it had stopped when I went back to the Giant dealer to complain about the air leak in my rear tire. All the owner did was straighten the valve and fill it up. It wasn't enough. I had enough air to ride to American Eagle with no time to stop off at Eagle again. I could see the tire was getting flatter. In the rain, I rode to American Eagle but by 6pm, the tire had barely enough air to get me back to the Giant dealer in my neighborhood. In the rain I rode there for immediate action; I couldn't go on like this as I use my bike for daily transportation, not just exercise. If I had to take buses to my destinations, it would take much longer; taxis are cheaper than in NYC but still would cost $50 on the days I go to Mandarin tutorial and American Eagle class. 

      The tube valve was bent by the Giant technician and riding the bike home with a soft tire must have hurt. Though I had a month or so of life left on the tire, I opted for a new rear tire and had to get a new tube, a tube that was fine until they broke the valve. My front tire, the original from 2 1/2 years ago was time to change so, for 1200NT I got two tires and a tube to add to the 1900NT rear wheel and gear rotor I got installed last week. A few months ago, I got new brake pads, too, so, essentially, my bike has all new parts for about $100us! It is 1/4 the cost of the bike originally but if I can get another 2 1/2 years out of the sweetest bike I've ever owned, it will be worth it. 

Miao-Li Readers Theater, Spelling-Bees, etc.

5-23-15 

      Yesterday it was back to the middle school on the mountain peak in Miaoli to judge a Readers’ Theater. The time tight with Wayne driving in the rain, we made it to American Eagle just in time for my class, a class mostly spent in the front of the building judging a speech contest rehearsal. Wayne came back to pick me up after diving Leona home, picked me up late and brought me back for Pizza Hut dinner with us. I read his I Ching and we shared a little sample bottle of wine.

I wanted to save the nice bottle we bought before we left for Brooklyn to celebrate when we got back. The celebration will probably be tonight. I’m going to suggest we have a nice dinner somewhere, too; B.Y.O.B. Maybe French food?

I’ve been floating since we came back a week ago.  I sit on the restrung beach chair and settle back. I am on input and I have no reservations.

While Wayne was here, we asked him to drive us to the vet with Nala. Nala had scraped her back between her front legs squeezing out from under the dining room table last week. The wound was getting worse so we went for treatment. The vet said it wasn’t serious. Leona put the cone on Nala’s head so she wouldn’t try to lick it, though I doubt she could reach it.

There is one more officiating for me to do for Leona’s cousin’s publisher, a publisher which, according to Wayne, had a terrible year and is losing its market share of textbooks to tow other competitors. I did two this week.

We have no holidays planned. I mentioned everything from Hokkaido to Nara, to Paris or the Mediterranean around Barcelona, even Morocco, but Leona isn’t jumping. Out of the mist of the plum rains in our ‘triumphant’ return from Brooklyn, it’s been more about cutting ties than making inroads.

    The third and last contest in a week was at Leona's childhood middle school in Tan-Zih. Unlike Shuang-Wen, which had the same format spelling bee last Wednesday, these children were disorganized and unprepared. They sat on the auditorium floor, not chairs, and remained seated if the spelled the words wrong, which most of them did by the sixth word! The correct spellers stood. By word #10, the contest was over. I got paid two hours for thirty-five minutes on stage looking American. 

Back in Taichung after the Brooklyn House Sale

5-19-15 

     Facebook is so unreal but it's good enough to kill someone you would like to but don't want to go to jail for. 

There's no sense telling anyone the truth and filling your mind with their existence, but 'ignoring' is a power taken away from you by corporate media. Why can't I block CNN and other apologists for market capitalism the way I block the fools who friended me? Why even snipe at folk who don't know how transparently rude they are?

     It is good to be back in Taiwan and good that there is no more crap associated with 1210 Ave Y. The last inconvenience was the slime-ball junk-men leaving the rest of the junk in the garden. Vinny wrote that Mr. Saadia "understands" it was out of my control. When you live in NYC, many things are out of residents' control. Service is bad, slow, or absent until an agency blindly accuses you; then the auto-pilot leaves you no recourse. I think I will protest the $100 fine for discarding the TV.

     I brought the onion bagel to Red Rob last evening. I did a lot of bike riding yesterday starting with the ride to Mandarin tutoring, to American Eagle, and then Belling's. Today I will ride up the Han River. I should go early, say 8am, before it gets too hot; it was 34 degrees yesterday. Later I'll bring the bike in to get air and the gears adjusted; they've been slipping. 

     Leona brought Yun-Yang and Yun-Shen the 70's Marvel and Action comics I found in the box in the closet in the basement hallway. Long ago, Alan Dulfon had sifted through the hundreds of comics left to me by Kenny Zekowsky and found valuable ones. They were in that box. Leona said Jia-Hui commented that the cartoon didn't look like Spiderman; that was funny since she was looking at the original drawings. I gave Jia-Hua a Skybar, Mallo Cups, and Hello Kitty candy box.

      Most of the knickknacks are unpacked and put into their eternal places. The Yuengling beer label stands on a book shelf between an AC/DC shot glass and souvenir flag-draped four-inch Statue of Liberty. Aunt Ray’s plastic silhouettes wall-dancers await deployment on the enclosed patio wall next to the Gary Cooper/Ingmar Bergman photograph. Sixty-nine cork wine caps line the inclining ledge above the tempered-glass windows, the seltzer bottle and 78’s sit on the bookcase, two relics, one still useful on the crank 78 Gramophone nearby. Three major league baseball bats remain in the cardboard box until I have a rack to display then in the tea room. Two View-Master viewers will probably become part of my teaching tricks: look inside and describe the slide. Whoever draws the better recreation, as judged by a panel of me and two students from opposing teams, wins. That’s how it goes with knickknacks. A candelabra reproduction of a Notre Dame gargoyle keeps company with the kachina on the electric fireplace.  

American Eagle Fun-Day up the Mountain

4-26-15 

     I had fun with American Eagle on Fun Day up in the nearby mountains off Dong-shan Road. I was told before but never realized that the cataract mountains vaguely through the mist and smog housed thousands of monkeys, a few hundred of which come down one slope to "give a show" and get fruit in return. Though the forty or so students and another twenty adults (parents, administrators, and teachers) couldn't do much to explain or enjoy the "Compass" game, though one parent and Zoe tried in vain, the children had fun otherwise, and I had the most fun. Four of my eleven students tried their best to sing "The Unicorn Song" after being prompted by Zoe I had given in and resigned to sing the verses to their chorus until she stepped in and shamed them to do the song as she had heard them practice in class. It was like hearing the Beatles after John and George died; sorry Paul and Ringo, but you're not enough. The barbecues got hot, the tiny pork fillets got browned, and everyone ate. After the talent show, we walked off a kilometer away to see the monkeys and hear a guide tell everyone about it. The camaraderie between me, Calum, Monalisa, Benjamin, Darren, and John was fine. Zoe drove me up with some students in a van but Darren drove me back on his scooter. 

Marijuana Bust near Taichung

   4-17-15

  Another American dude in Taichung was arrested, along with others, for having a marijuana plantation including some poppy plants. Funny but the news wasn't reported at all in the English media here. Leona showed me a picture of the weed, the dude (a 41 year-old) but only his Chinese name. There was a different bust last year in the same mountainous area near Taichung Paws animal sanctuary. What a coincidence. 

Last Trip to Brooklyn Home

4-11-15 

“We have a mortgage commitment. Nandy will be contacting you to get an idea of when you can come in for the closing because I know you want to be here for it. Also if you need any help cleaning out please let me know. Hope to hear from you soon.” 

4-13-15 

     It was a bittersweet day yesterday writing an introduction, up the beautiful Han river, for a chapter on Emerson’s (and my) return to teaching at a New York City high school in the '90's. The Eurocentric Jewish/Italian cliques of mealy mouth know-it-alls, with put-downs and a heavy dose of Albanian anti-Semitic sturm und drang, made FDR D.O.A. for me. But to see zombies come alive, thanks to pay-me-off Daily News Hamil (his finger on the pulse of cadavers) on the stoop of fifty years of wasted classrooms was too much to bear; no school leadership team, no participatory unionism, no Sweatfree school, no teacher parking, and no multicultural festival for the bulk. The best thing about FDR was getting out of there early with sanity and a pension, thanks to "Penis" Spitzer. Instead of pretending everything is beautiful (as zombies do) and listening to Jay Black's out-of the coffin drek oratory, I get to make love to my wife in the comfort of our bed 12,000 miles away from the scene of the crime. The catharsis of writing semi-autobiographical It Won't Work sometimes invokes spirits from the past, proving it wasn't just a nightmare; it was real. Look at all the friends I made there in twenty-one years: Jimmy and Richard; period. Facebook photos and one-liners don't count. There are more FDR ESL alumni friends! All of the rumors of curses from Washington Cemetery next door may have been true after all.

4-14-15 

 On the patio in Taichung, I just finished a lox and cream cheese on bagel. I have to sit in the shade facing west on the patio to avoid the shining sun on me and the laptop.

     Catherine asked if I could come in for the closing before June. I replied that we could. Nandy e-mailed saying she got the title report and asked about a sidewalk violation. The city threatened to return on April 2 to see if I corrected the violation; I did re-fix the sidewalk before we left before Sandy and it looked good to me last summer. Nandy asked me to call. I will tonight. 

     I am not anxious to sell the house but I feel no connection to Brooklyn, not that I had the last ten years living there when FDR endeavors became fruitless and the neighborhood filled up with arrogant Ruskies. I am glad that all four of my children have chosen to live elsewhere; it gives me little reason to return after the house sale, maybe just a night in a hotel, a visit with Jimmy and Richard and a trip to a few of our favorite restaurant dinners. We'll rent a car at the airport and get away, north to see Jim Drieu and Selma, and then west to Pittsburgh before we hop to Portland and back to Taiwan. Leona only has the library friends that bind her to Brooklyn.

5-11-15 

     We're back in Brooklyn clearing the house. We have given away a number of items on the street from the house. The kitchen cabinets are empty of plates, pots, and pans, and so is the closet. There is a heavy wooden bed frame upstairs that Alberta abandoned that has to be brought down and outside. The basement backroom has to be cleared out while the basement itself is empty. There's Mom's old break-front to the stationary cabinet and a heavy wood chest of drawers. We put it out and people pick it up. 

 Most important news from yesterday was the "Urgent" e-mail I got to call Nandy: the closing is set for Catherine's Coldwell Banker office on Ave U for 11am this Thursday, May 16, 2015

This morning, 11:00am is the closing on our house sale.

      I will no longer straddle a continent and an ocean with both my feet in Taiwan, though Brooklyn, New York will always be my first hometown. Not one person, save Kathy Forman, Jimmy Kanakas, and Mark Kaplan remains here to welcome me "home" now with the prospect of Tom Keough joining the ranks. Three mishigas friends (Richard Singer, Banks, and Joanne) couldn't bring me up, and Sal couldn't walk five minutes from his home to say 'hello' nor could that fat-assed toad Sanchez find an excuse to leave her seat at FDR to meet me on equal ground. Aside from the restaurants, there is no heartfelt or vocational reason to stay here. Even Jim Drieu, par for the course, couldn't find a way to trip down to Brooklyn for a weekend day. I'm taking it all in stride. 

Lin Family Banquet - Tan-Zih Uncle's Home

4-8-15

      It is 56^o outside with a real feel of 46^o; too cool to have coffee on the patio. A tropical storm passed south of Taiwan and only brought rain to Southern Taiwan. The north is instituting rationing of water. The drought continues. Our rain barrel is empty

   On Sunday, Leona and I went to Tan-Tzu where there was a Lin family banquet. I met Leona’s uncle (father’s eldest brother) and his married children. There were two round tables in our private room with about twenty people and another table in another room with ten more relatives who came down from Taipei. They sat separately because they had to discuss serious business; one of the grand children was refusing to put his chop to a land sale near the Tse-Chi hospital. They need his signature. As a female, a married one, Leona is not entitled to any of the land or its value. Her father would benefit and pass the value to his son, Shih-Dong, and then his eldest son, Yun-Shen. Luckily, Leona has me and doesn’t need the tiny portion of land though it would be lucrative as the governments wants to extend the highway north there and the land sits right in its place

      After the banquet, we drove in Shih-Dong’s new Volvo 4x4 up the winding road out of Tan-Tzu, over the Han River, and turned left into the undeveloped flatland between it and the eastern mountains. It is land owned by Taiwan Sugar Corp. and Leona’s uncle still lives there with his wife and pays a minuscule rent for a classic but modified Taiwan mud-brick home. When they pass on, the land will be developed. The house is surrounded by passion fruit, lychee, logons, bananas, scented flowers, and other flora. It was the first time Leona had caught up with these family members since she left for college in Taipei in 1988 even though we have been living back in Taiwan for two and a half years. I spent most of the time there talking with Leona’s cousin, Eddie, who understands English, is married and works in Taipei. He now knows my life story concerning my interest in things Chinese and how I met and married his cousin. The info will filter through the grapevine and Leona’s fate is no longer a mystery to them.

      Twice during the banquet day Leona and I were assumed to be the owners of the Volvo 4x4. Inquirers were surprised that our transportation was a scooter and bicycle.

Jeou-Fen and Eslite Book Store, Taipei

Leona and I just got back from three days up north in and in Taipei; went to a place called Jeou-Fen, a former mining town on the mountainside with long tourist alleys. It was on a Thursday so most tourists hadn't gotten off of work or school yet; it's the only time to go travelling in Taiwan if you don't want to get trampled or in a traffic jam. The next day we had Passover Seder with a hundred Jews, mostly from Israel, and a rabbi from Hong Kong originally from Brooklyn. It was a nice dinner (tasted kosher, Leona said) and light on the prayers, thank God. Leona hooked up with two college friends for tea time chats. The only disappointment for me (besides having no sex) was finding the fourth floor music department of Eslite bookstore closed for renovation! I almost cried when I saw the escalators blocked. The bookstore, however, was open, one of the largest English selections in Taiwan. I spent around 2000NT-$64 on six books but got a discount. Here’s what I bought:

 Three Collins Classics: John Keats Selected Poems and Letters, Robinson Crusoe, by Daniel Defoe*, Arabian Nights, translated by Sir Richard Burton, an edition that I hope to exchange because I didn’t know doesn’t include three of the most famous tales (“Aladdin’s Lamp,” “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,” and “Sinbad the Sailor,” all supposedly added in the 1700’s by the French translator), 1421; The Year China Discovered the World, by Gavin Menzies, Destiny Disrupted; A History of the World Through Islamic Eyes, by Tamim Ansary, and Danube, by Claudio Magris, translated from the Italian by Patrick Creagh. (*I hope to exchange it as I already have a copy.) I am lucky to have the time to read but I can’t read more than an hour at a time or I get distracted. I can read in the morning up the river and in bed before going to sleep. The books I’ve been reading before bed, Marco Polo and Helen Keller; The Story of My Life, I’m both about half way through. They are dry and I can only read ten or so pages at a time. Meanwhile, I shot through Clapton; The Autobiography and am shooting through Jews Without Money, by Michael Gold. Jack Kerouac’s On the Road waits in the queue and I’m putting it back in the bookcase for when I’m ready.

      There are five books that I’ve finished reading and won’t be reading again. I want to donate them to Belling’s Deli and Bar where there is a small English lending library or even drop them in one of the city reading boxes; there’s one in front of Chung-Yo. They are: Forrest Gump, Around the World in Eighty Days, Of Mice and Men, Life of Pi, and Light in August.

Reaction to English Taiwan News Posting

2-16-15 

     The weather has been beautiful the past few days. I am sitting on the patio while writing this. I have resumed riding up the Han River after our return from Cambodia and extra nights in Tao-yuan and downtown Taichung. I am bringing one book with me to read again when, for a few weeks, I had started bringing two and even three; my attention was getting dilated. One book is enough to read. 

     There have been over one hundred fifty hits on the opinion piece in the few days since I wrote "Sacrificial Sunflower Fools" in taIWWan and posted to English Taiwan News blog. There have even been about seven people who commented including Michael Turton who called my piece "high comedy." Everyone who commented is not ready to volunteer to help organize workers into unions.

      One clown who commented on the piece mistook me for a "pan blue" blogger until Turton put him straight. One guy insulted the Wobblies and used fear of violence to condemn labor organizing. Another turkey said unions are good but the Sunflower protesters are, too. Of the fifty plus hits, not more than twenty went back to the "Stinking Kettle of Fish" opinion piece I referred to which named some in the DPP responsible for co-opting the movement. I don't plan to respond to any comments. No one wrote to me directly. Two people liked the post including the author of the blog.

      There’s some schmuck who claims he’s been in FAPA for years and didn’t like me writing, “FAPA wants to keep American influence strong in Taiwan; their lobbyists pander to congressmen and senators with a means to do so.” There’s also a fear monger named Les Sharp who feels the need to defend Sean who wasn’t at all being attacked. Courtney Donovan Smith, the creator of the Facebook page is sitting pretty. He’s no friend of the union, either; none of them are, except for some guy Courtney knows called Red.  

78 Record Player

2-15-15 

 Leona got me a classic 1920's Victor crank 78 rpm record player yesterday on Valentine's Day. We got it at a brick-a-brac store on the Westside after we had had lunch at nearby Istanbul Turkish restaurant. I think she said they wanted $500 us with a 15% discount but I told her to offer $400; I don't know how much she paid. The proprietor of the store told her she had bought twenty models in India in various conditions and that parts were combined to create seven playing models. Ironically, I have no 78's to play in Taiwan; I discarded many 78's and gave others to Simone for safe keeping. The rest I gifted to Tiger, Leona's colleague at the library. I feel embarrassed to ask him for them back since I gifted them to him and he was glad to receive them. 

DPP Uses Youthful Protests

2-13-15

      I copied the paragraph in the last journal entry about the 119 fools in the so-called Sunflower Movement protests, meaningless protests that got nowhere and helped no one except the police who could fine-tune their reactions to the next useless student demonstration. I shouldn’t say “meaningless” protests. The protesters, encouraged and advised by certain clandestine agent provocateurs in the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) were the icing on the cake of Kuomintang defeat in the November 2014 elections. They did for the DPP youth vote what appointing washed up death metal egotist Freddy Lim “Youth Outreach Coordinator” couldn’t for Frank Shieh in the 2008 presidential election defeat to Ma Ying-Jeou. The DPP has learned to use the youth as sacrificial lambs for their own pro-American neo-liberal agenda. There is no “lesser of two evils” in a choice between Chinese and American power in Taiwan. The working people must have the power and there is only one way to get it: clandestinely through direct action in the workplace. After seventy-eight years of the United States de-facto colonization of Taiwan, a “Free China” free for only big business interests, and the same lack of democracy, though more transparently anti-union, Chinese power take-over is not the answer either, in the short-run. Until the youth of Taiwan get off their skinny asses and start educating, agitating, and organizing themselves into workers unions, wages in Taiwan will continue to tumble down to Mainland Chinese levels until working here or there is interchangeable in wages, already at the level it was in Taiwan sixteen years ago. A Chinese worker’s salary in some cities has already caught up to the Taiwan worker’s salary. For a family in Taiwan or China to survive, fighting for independent union rights is the only way out. 

Passover in Taipei

I got an e-mail Feb. 4 from Rabbi Shlomi in Taipei. Here’s what he wrote:

 I was reading your blog (which is a very interesting and well written if I may add) after searching for something else in the Internet (you know how it works...)I wanted to ask: are you still in Taichung? Would love to connect if you have time.  Hoping to hear from you back...

Hi Rabbi: I am retired in Taichung with my wife. We regret not meeting you when you came down on the Hanukkah holidays; maybe next time you're in town, we can get together. Be well, David

Thanks so much for your reply! I would love to meet with you next time I’m in town! What’s your phone number? Will give you a call when I know when I’m coming. Looking forward to hearing back from you…

Hi Rabbi: Send me an e-mail when you're planning to come. Be well. David

           I am not ready for phone conversations with a rabbi. Religious people are generally too conservative and bigoted for me to like. Dr. Rabbi Einhorn, who is 93 and still living in Taipei, was an exception. He helped me a lot with my family and then condoning my separation with the kids from my ex. The first question I would ask Rabbi Shlomi would be about him. 

3-16-15 

     I would like to go the Passover Seder in Taipei on Friday April 3rd. The dinner would cost 1,200NT for one person but I would also have to spend $50us to get to Taipei and back by HSR. Leona doesn't even want me to invite Joe Cooperman and family over here for a Seder. Leona is shy to meet new people. It doesn't bother me. I can go by myself as I did to synagogue in Brooklyn every year for Rosh Hashanah but that was something you do alone, anyway with the women segregated in the conservative temple and no talking inside (like anyone followed the rules.) We always celebrated Passover at home with the children, even the minimal ceremony. Leona was fine with that and even contributed to cooking. I bring it up again because I received an e-mail reminder this morning. I will be regretful if I don't go. I will ask Leona again when she is fully awake, when I get back from Mandarin tutoring. I don't want to get angry with her because of it. If she agrees to let me make a Seder with the Coopermans here (even if they decline) I won't go to Taipei.

 Leona and I are going to Jeou-Fen the four-day weekend of April 3-7. That Friday is the Passover Seder in Taipei. During Hakka lunch yesterday, I suggested Leona and I attend it on the way to Jeou-Fen. She didn't disagree so it looks like we are going to the Seder. She couldn't argue with it or say I was becoming religious in my old age because we had celebrated Passover every year with the kids in Brooklyn. I am pleased she accepted my plan. 

4-5-15 

Leona and I just got back from three days up north in and in Taipei; went to a place called Jeou-Fen, a former mining town on the mountainside with long tourist alleys. It was on a Thursday so most tourists hadn't gotten off of work or school yet; it's the only time to go travelling in Taiwan if you don't want to get trampled or in a traffic jam. The next day we had Passover Seder with a hundred Jews, mostly from Israel, and a rabbi from Hong Kong originally from Brooklyn. It was a nice dinner (tasted kosher, Leona said) and light on the prayers, thank God.