Sri Lanka: Kandy-land Adventure

I apologize for not posting for two weeks - I took on a crazypants teaching schedule, trying to save money before I make a change in August, and haven't had much time for blogging. I also worked my way through The Forty Days of Musa Dagh after reading a few other things on my list (Hiking Through History and The Oracle of Stamboul), and that took up a lot of my time.

What's more, I've been thinking more seriously of making jewelry to actually sell - although I haven't started yet, just planning what to make and what I'll need - if I decide to do it at all - is taking up time.

And sadly, blogging fell by the wayside.



I believe this is my last batch of Sri Lanka photos (I have to check and see if the Galle photos ever made it up, and later on I'll throw up a few Colombo shots), and I don't have too much to say beyond basic travelogue stuff. But I should note a few things about similarities between Sri Lanka and Taiwan.

I mean, there are the obvious things, like how they're both islands off a major landmass that is also one country, and both independent (although Taiwan is only de facto, Sri Lanka is de jure). They both have monkeys. They are both often overlooked in favor of their larger and more powerful neighbors.



But there's more.

Both have an ethnic minority of another race that has influence over the culture (Tamils in Sri Lanka, aborigines and Hakka here - some will argue that Hakka is not an ethnic minority. OK, you could say that, but they are a cultural and linguistic one).

They both are relatively small players in the world economy (Sri Lanka moreso than Taiwan) next to a major player, but both have higher per capita GDP statistics than their "big, rich" neighbor. Both are more prosperous when you consider individual standard of living than their neighbor. Both are easier to deal with as destinations than traveling in their neighbor (I love India, but Sri Lanka was an easier place to visit).



They both have some unfortunate politics worth discussing. I was not pleased that the LTTE lost the civil war - I was rooting for them to at least win concessions, autonomy or some sort of enforced legislation of equal treatment and opportunity. This is in part because I lived in Tamil Nadu in India and so have something of a connection to Tamil culture although I am not Tamil myself, and in part because they fought back against true discrimination. They didn't deserve to lose, and they're not doing much better now than they were when the war began.

And of course, Taiwan has to deal with all that China bullshit.



They both have monkeys!

But seriously, they both have cultural traditions that involve tiny shrines everywhere. Along the road in Sri Lanka, much like in Taiwan (but not China, in my observation), there are small Buddhist shrines (and a few Hindu ones too), that you can stop and pray at, or are there just to keep farms, fields or property safe and in god's grace. In Taiwan, of course, you'll see Earth God (土地公) shrines everywhere, and a few others (Matsu is popular) scattered around, too.



Their cultures are both too often considered the same or "close enough" to their larger, more well-known neighbors.



They are both influenced strongly not only by their Big Strong Neighbor, but also by other nearby islands - as is the case with island nations in proximity to other ones. Taiwan is deeply influenced by Japan by both proximity, cultural affinity (including post-WWII when Taiwan was one of the only - the only? - Asian nation to not despise or resent Japan) and colonization. Sri Lanka has flavors of Indonesia in its art, traditions, architecture and cooking - you see woodcarving that's more reminiscent of Bali, "tiki" style thatch roofs more commonly seen in Sumatra and Java, food that reminds me of Padang cuisine almost as much as it does Indian curry, greater use of coconut and an affinity for "sambol", which is basically spicy Indonesian sambal with coconut.

Even their art has lines - look at the legs of the carved dancer below - that remind me of Indonesian Hindu/Buddhist art more than Indian.

Some of their dances seem more Indonesian than Indian, but I am hardly an expert in Sri Lankan dance tradition.



Anyway, these photos were taken in Kandy, Sri Lanka's cultural capital (think of it as the Tainan of Sri Lanka, Galle as the Lugang of Sri Lanka, the southern beaches as the Kending of Sri Lanka, Ella/Nuwara Eliya as the Alishan of Sri Lanka...they could all almost be sister cities/sister destinations).

 

The afternoon we arrived, after a nauseating bus trip, we waited out a rainstorm (common in Kandy in the afternoon) and headed to the Temple of the Tooth (above), where it's said that they keep a tooth of the Buddha. I'm not sure if it's real - it's been absconded with, taken to India and brought back enough times that it could well be a fake - but the temple is lovely.



We went to a fun, but basic, tea museum the next day, taking a rickshaw up the mountain and walking down to enjoy the weather and scenery. And we saw this:





...and passed a Durga shrine. Durga, the embodiment of feminine creative energy and the Optimus Prime/Power Rangers Giant Robot of Hindu gods, carries weapons in her 18 arms and rides a tiger or lion. She killed the demon Mahisha when no other god could. Of course she is my favorite.





Jaya jaya hai, Mahishasura Mardhini!

We hired a rickshaw to take us to the three most well-known temples outside of Kandy (not a lot of public transit), which were all enjoyable, if firmly on the tourist circuit:























...and we saw a super touristy dance show, which was fun, but not as authentic as, say, a Taiwanese temple parade (I'd love to see such dances in an authentic setting, but all the cameras going off kind of ruined it. I'm not against taking photos - I take them, too - but it was downright rude, how people would stand in the audience or hold their cameras up high so those behind them not only couldn't see, but also could watch you take your terrible photos...because most tourists aren't good photographers).







Here's one of the shrines I mentioned:



And the beach we started out from, at Negombo (it was a less stressful option than staying in Colombo). Seems quiet - actually, it was stuffed with tourists.

Opposite Day: Pseudo-Philosophical Thoughts on Annual Parties

I even made a video this year...

Every year, I have the pleasure of attending the annual party (尾牙 or "wei ya") of one of my clients. They're a small, local semiconductor company located out in Taipei County (I still haven't gotten used to this whole "Xinbei" thing) and, unlike a lot of companies, their annual party is an absolute blast. Some combination of being staffed by geeky, overworked engineers, the outside-Taipei mindset and the local flavor of the firm means lots more alcohol, lots more craziness, an insane talent show, and really exciting lucky draws.



 Last year I just wrote generally about the culture of annual parties in Taiwan - the short of it being that in a country where working hours are so long, and opportunities to socialize fewer due to family obligations, more structured social circles and those aforementioned working hours, the annual party is often a blowout party where otherwise mild-mannered geeks (and I don't say this to stereotype - the folks at this particular firm really are best described as "mild mannered geeks") go hog-wild and wake up with a raging hangover the next day. It's one of the few times when drinking in Taiwan finally reaches levels of craziness and obligation seen in other parts of Asia: the CEO and GM, you see, must get drunk; it is, for all intents and purposes, a rule.



 This year I observed a bit more of what was going on, and had a few other thoughts.

The annual party is ostensibly an event held by a company in appreciation of its staff (and often key clients, customers or vendors - I got to go because I'm a "vendor"), but certain aspects of it reminded me a bit of older traditions - Saturnalia, Opposite Day and the Lord of Misrule - the offering of one fun party, like a piece of fruit covered in silver tinsel, in exchange for something of far greater value: the continued loyalty of overworked and underpaid employees. This isn't to say the annual party I personally attended was full of overworked and underpaid employees: I'm talking in generalities here, not pointing fingers at individuals, but it is an issue that's been on my mind a lot.

At an annual party, the people at the top serve - not literally, but in terms of paying for it (often out of their own pockets) - those at the bottom, like an inversion of masters and servants. While new employees are often conscripted into entertaining on stage, the guys at the top also have an obligation to get up there, wear crazy outfits (I know one guy at another company who dressed up like Lady Gaga and did a whole routine) and get drunk for the entertainment of the rank-and-file employees.



 The biggest deal of all is the lucky draw, or lottery: prizes depend on the company budget as well as donations from executives and higher-level managers, but it's common to have many small prizes and one or two top prizes of NT$60,000, or something similarly nice, like an iPad Mini or iPhone 5. At Foxconn, I've heard the prizes go into the millions, but for the top prizes the lucky draw boxes are only full of the names of those deemed to be "excellent employees".

If the lucky draw were put together just on a company budget, that'd be one thing - but it's not. Company budgets for these things can be surprisingly stingy (not the one I attended - as a smaller and very local company, they take the lucky draw quite seriously and budget lavishly for it) - what happens is that managers and directors get up on stage to draw the winners, but when they're doing so, they're expected to generously "donate" to the prize about to be drawn. It's not uncommon for a manager to get up on stage and announce that he or she will double or even triple the coming prize out of his or her own pocket. One guy I know at another company donated two iPad Minis, one black and one white. Another got onstage, announced he'd double the prize, and then drew his own name - culture dictates, apparently, that he then had to triple or even quadruple the amount. He did, and ended up being out over NT$100,000. If one manager draws a prize and gets the name of another manager, the winning manager is still expected to donate the prize for another draw as well as add to it (I've heard of that happening too).



 Technically, these donations are voluntary: nobody will tell higher-ups that they have to donate to the lucky draw. It's just expected. It's part of the culture. I've heard of just once instance in which the guy in charge didn't beef up the lucky draw prizes out of his own pocket. Nobody told him he had to, nobody forced him to do it, but let's just say that things in his department didn't go as smoothly as he would have liked the next year.

I also see it as a bit of a social equalizer, albeit a very minor, inconsequential one. Pretty much the only people who earn even close to what they're worth in skilled labor are higher-level managers, perhaps some (but not all) doctors, and unqualified English teachers (the qualified ones are generally underpaid). It makes sense, then, that on this Taiwanese iteration of Opposite Day, of the leaders putting on a show to entertain the workers, that there'd be a tiny bit of wealth redistribution. That the person who makes more than enough to buy a nice apartment in Taipei and raise a family on one income (still usually male) would be out tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars (one chairman of one company I know has a personal, not company, but personal, lucky draw budget of NT$10million per year), while the family making do on two incomes and living too far from the MRT out in Taipei County would get a windfall.




 To me, a lucky draw is a form of gambling - some would disagree as you don't put any money in unless you're the person in charge, but prizes are distributed unevenly and in bursts of good luck. How is that not like gambling? That, to me, makes it something of a cultural thing. When I see or hear of people playing the lottery or gambling in the USA, it tends to be something done rarely, but meant to inject a little fun into life, like occasionally deciding to play a game of pool for money or picking up a lottery ticket on a lark. Here, it seems to go on at a constant low level, from the receipt lottery (I don't play because even though it's free, it's time consuming) to mahjong being far more common at get-togethers than card games in the US, and more often played for money.

Or maybe I'm wrong and I just didn't hang out with gambling types in the USA, but I don't think so. Considering the stronger belief in luck - luck coming in, luck going out - this makes sense. There's even a saying in Taiwanese (not sure if it also exists in Chinese): 娶妻前，生子後 (in my crude understanding of Taiwanese phonetics I'd pronounce that as something like tsua-mbo jian, xi-gya ao). Meaning that you're prone to good luck "before marrying, and after having a child". Students will insist that this is true: "the only time I ever won a big prize was just after I had my son", or "yes, that really seems to happen? Why? I don't know. 財神 (the god of wealth) maybe." When someone at the weiya I attended won - a woman about to get married (even though "娶妻前" is meant to be "before taking a wife, in the modern world it can be translated more equitably as "getting married"). At my table someone muttered "of course she won. She's getting married soon." "Uh huh," her friend replied. "When you get married it's easy to win".



 I'm not really a believer in luck: coincidence, yes, random windfalls or tragedy, sure, but not "luck" insofar as its a force in the universe beyond statistically possible windfalls or tragedies. I personally suspect more of those lotteries are fixed than people would like to admit, or even consider. I've mentioned this to a few people, just to see their reactions, and oh my! You should see the horrified look on their faces. Eyes widen. Mouths drop. "NO! Absolutely NOT! The lucky draws are NEVER FIXED!" they say.

Maybe not. Or maybe so: I could very easily see, in Taiwan, many bosses who decide that the "lucky" draw should be appropriately "lucky" for the right people, and seeing to it that it happens, while everyone else pretends that no, it's "luck". I don't even think this is a bad thing. I simply suspect it happens. Perhaps not every time, but from time to time.



 And as for lucky draws, I'd rather see everyone get a slightly nicer bonus than see one guy win big. That could be a cultural difference, or it could be just me.

Reverse Culture Shock

I'm going to try, for the first and perhaps only time, to write a full blog post on my iPad. Lets see how it goes, and let me know if there are any egregious or hilarious autocorrect disasters in there. Also, about halfway through the whole thing clogged up and I'll have to finish on a regular computer.

Reverse culture shock is a common topic. Most people mention longer distances, different food and weather, quieter streets, less pollution, too many consumer options, tipping, high prices, eating at home more, unhealthier food and more directness as well as sarcasm as common reverse culture shock options. I've felt that too - go ahead and ask me how my digestive system is doing - but I've had some other issues too, good and bad.

Among the good (which generally needs little explanation): more variety of food, more diversity, not having to think of how to explain or ask for something in a second language, central heat, clothes that fit and don't look ridiculous on Westerners, Christmas for real, more options, road rules I understand, cooking in a good size kitchen.

But among the bad -

Saying "bless you" - People don't do this in Taiwan, and frankly, it makes sense that they don't. Despite being aware of the origin of this cultural tic, I'm not sure why Westerners still do it. I've stopped, even as I tell students it's something to remember to do when visiting the USA, and I am sure my fellow Americans think I'm quite rude for my utter silence in response to their sneezes.

Dry air, dry nose - I am used to central heat, and we've set up our lovely apartment with heaters in such a way that the effects are not so different from having central heating. What I did not expect was returning to a chronically dry nose and throat, to the point that I frequently wake up with nosebleeds.


Health care battles - My mom is sick, as regular readers know. In Taiwan she'd see her doctors, get chemo and other treatments, and not generally have to worry about how it would be paid for. In the USA, every new treatment, test or drug must be considered along with the question of whether insurance will pay, whether they are close to their annual cap and must wait critical weeks, in terms of health as well as money, for January, and how much will be paid out and when. Even with coverage, which they came close to not getting, their medical bills are in the "mortgage/med school" range, not the car payment range. And this is with "good" insurance! Which they pay for! Which they pay more than I pay for! It's ridiculous! It's inhumane! It's sickening, literally! Why do Americans put up with this bullshit? Why do they fight for their god-given right to keep such a bullshit system? Premiums that take a quarter of your pay, and you're not even guaranteed that sort of coverage, only to not even be sure that you'll be able to get a test - in time or at all - that could save your life, and the only other options if the company you are paying decides not to cover you are death or bankruptcy? Fuck this shit. I'm never coming home if this is what I'd face.

Ridiculous morning shows - The Onion's Today Now, a spoof of typically vapid morning shows, is more accurate than I remember. And yer I can't stop watching, especially when I wake early due to jet lag.

How do people, y'know, do anything? - Let's say you want to go out for a few drinks. Unless you live in a reasonably rural area, you can't go alone. Buses are rare if they exist, taxis cost a mint, and if you drink and can't drive home, and do take a taxi or get a ride, how do you get your car the next day? I don't get at all how this would work. If you go out with a significant other, only one of you can drink. That's no fun. So you go in a group or not at all? Ok, but what if you don't want to? I suppose the answer is "you don't need drinking to have fun", which I guess is true, but even a few glasses of wine at your anniversary dinner? How? Even in cities where public transit networks close early and you don't live close to nightlife hotspots and taxis are so expensive, how do people afford to go out? If your car needs work, how do you get around? How do you even get to the mechanic, or DMV, or driving school if you need your license, when none of it is accesssible by public transit? Does not compute.

Being unable to find what you want in a sea of options - Usually people complain about the opposite bit of reverse culture shock - too many options, too much stuff. But no, the other day we went to Walmart (ugggghhh) to get photos printed, and I thought it wouldn't be contributing too much to poverty-level wages and manipulating hiring hours to avoid paying benefits to buy some super balls for our cat (hard to find in Taiwan). We searched toys, party favors and pet care...no super balls in the whole football stadium of a store. Walking between sections was like going to the gym (other than the gym and Walmart, how do people get exercise when there are no sidewalks?) and there were hundreds of other kinds of balls. There was an entire aisle of party favors, and an entire shelving system of piggy banks, along with a hundred different deodorants and a thousand soaps. But NO SUPERBALLS. Again, does not compute.

People around me actually understanding what I'm saying - "maybe you shouldn't say that in public, people can in fact understand you". Oh.

People around me actually caring about my religious views - what's with the sad looks when I say that no, I did not go to church on Sunday, no I neither wish to nor know how to say grace? How about the liquor laws that allow for no alcohol to be purchased in a store on Sunday, or after midnight and before 9am? Imagine if 7-11 in Taiwan did that - what would it even accomplish? And all that because Sunday is the "day of rest", the day you go to church and pretend you're a better person than you actually are - except not all of us believe that Sunday is a holy day, or that there are any holy days at all. In Taiwan nobody cares, and what I think is irrelevant because it's not an issue. Here, my views are still arguably irrelevant as I don't live in this country (but I do vote, so there's that), but people actually care that I'm a non-believer, and an outspoken one at that.

Aluba Revisited

I just learned about "aluba"...which...well, apparently it seems among schoolboys that shoving your buddy junk first into a tree, pole or windowsill is a sign of friendship, and I am really not sure what to say about it other than "that sounds like fraternity hazing for teenagers". I was reminded of things I heard about in college: guys called up at 3am and told to prepare 1000 jell-o shots in an hour if they wanted into the frat, or to streak across campus successfully (without getting arrested). Girls stuck in the Circle of Fat (sorority sisters sit around a pledge and use Sharpies to draw circles around areas that "need improvement"), among other things.

But oddly, despite the obvious "ball-busting" aspect of aluba, it seemed oddly less cruel, less objectively mean, than any of the above Greek rush horrors.

After doing a bit of asking around, I learned that almost every Taiwanese guy I know has had it done or know someone who has, and it is considered a true rite of friendship (apparently they don't whack your crotch against the tree that hard. Or something. You gotta trust your bros. Or something).

Here's some interesting reading on the topic:  All about aluba in the Taipei Times

Isla Formosa's blog post on it from the naughts

I got interested in it because of something I saw at an annual party earlier this year:

You can't see it, but just beyond that larger fellow exiting stage right is a pole, and they were clearly trying to do this to their coworker, despite none of them being school-age.

Their buddy escaped:

I didn't know what to make of this until someone mentioned "aluba" and described it to me.

And then it all made sense.

So, uh, wow. My asking around, like the writers of the content in the above links, didn't turn up much on the way of its origins - just that it's a thing. And, from the amount of guys who have admitted it's happened to them (most notably with a fire extinguisher, which was then used on the hopeless aluba'd guy), it's still very much in practice.

What else can I say?

A Chacun Son Paradis

 Je suis au septieme ciel

Ma tour est plus belle que celle de Babel
Je vais à l'école buissonnière.
Je gère. Et dans la ville j'erre

You didn't know I spoke French, did you? Hah. That's because I only sort of speak it. I used to be pretty good, though. This song brings me back to the late '90s and early naughts, when I was something more akin to fluent in French, and also has a few lines that add, I dunno, chiaroscuro to how I've been feeling these days.

So I was sitting on the MRT this morning, coming back from my morning class, and WHAM!

It occurred to me that, as much as I might seem alright, and as much as I might have convinced myself that I'm alright, that these days I'm really not. I don't mean I'm depressed - I'm not - or even unhappy. Just that, after five plus years of life in Taiwan, I've convinced myself that I'm totally fine, I basically get it (as much as any foreigner in any country can really "get it"), no problem, and pessimism is for the weak, unless it's something really worth critiquing.

Except I was wrong, and I've been wrong for awhile, stuck up in a tower somewhere.

The truth is, I've succumbed in the time since I've returned from Istanbul to an insidious form of culture shock, where you feel like you've assimilated fairly well and gotten things on track, without realizing that there's still a lot that shocks you, a lot that angers you, a lot that you don't understand and a lot that you're not sure you want to understand lest it upset you further.

Instead of acknowledging that consciously, I've been clinging to the things I think are right, and snarking too much on the things I think are wrong, without stopping to think that maybe, sometimes, what I think is wrong.

It's come out in a weird two-barrels-blazing shoot-em-up where half the time I'm Suzy Sunshine, Queen of Optimism About Expat Life, and the other half I'm totally judgmental and close-minded, when really I should know better. At points it's been situational: when you talk to a bunch of sketchy foreign guys in one week, those skankbags make it all to easy to get a little too judgey about foreign guys in Taiwan generally. When Computex is going on and you're teaching classes of mostly male tech guys (who are great guys, mind you) and reading articles about booth babes (I call them Computer Xiaojies), it can make you uneasy about the entire tech industry and sexism in the country where you live - - which isn't going away soon. But then it's not going away in my own country, either.

At other points it's a generalized, simmering anxiety. For example - watching my students work themselves to death and having very little other than my own opinion when asked for - and sometimes when not - to fight back against this systematized and seemingly intrinsic exploitation. While working yourself to the point of exhaustion is a personal choice on the surface, it stops becoming a choice when almost every office job in Asia requires you to do so. In the USA plenty of people give themselves over to work and suffer the consequences of their own volition - but you have the choice not to. Here, you don't. Or rather you do, but it's much, much harder to come by and not possible for everyone. I don't know what to do about that, and have my own work frustrations (love what I do, hate the office), and it does set me on edge more than it should.

I've realized that, half the time, I have no idea what a lot of my local friends think. (I wrote out a bunch of examples here and then deleted them - I have local friends who read this blog and I don't want to be too specific). The only one whose mood and thoughts I feel I can confidently intuit is the very outspoken one who will always tell you what's on her mind.

Add to that a feeling like no opinion I express can be truly "right", and a feeling that, as disgusted as I am with the USA right now, at least it's my culture and country of citizenship so there are more ways for me to get involved. In Taiwan I have opinions, but not always the full story, and very few ways to get involved (and surprisingly little standing to do so). I don't feel detached totally - I feel a strong connection to my friends, my neighborhood, my students and my familiarity with the city - but it does create a feeling of hanging about like some old bit of cloth that has no real use but still hangs around the house anyway because nobody thinks to throw it away.

I don't know where it came from, when exactly it started and definitely not why. My first thought was that Istanbul, in a way that no other city I've visited recently has managed to accomplish, won my heart in a way. I'm not planning to up and move to Turkey, but it's created a weird duality where I'm happy in Taipei and want to stay, but also, oh, to go back to Istanbul. Can't I live in both? In Istanbul I dreamed of riding my bike down the riverside trail and eating wontons in fiery red chili oil. In Taipei, I'd give my left foot for some Turkish fig pudding and good baklava. Also, yoghurt, olives, Turkish coffee and pekmez that don't cost a fortune.

That said, I felt similarly about Cairo - though I like Istanbul more because it's somewhat less polluted, among other reasons -  and got over it more quickly.

So, while that could be it, I also wondered if maybe it's not my mother's health that's causing this. Her diagnosis is the first incident since moving to Taipei that caused me to seriously consider moving home, and mapping out how that would feel and what it might accomplish. It's the first incident that has really shaken me, reminding me that I will eventually have to move home, even though my life is here (or, if not here, then somewhere outside the USA). It's caused me to re-evaluate my life in Taiwan in a different light: as in, Taipei compared to home, not simply Taipei for Taipei's sake.

I don't know how to get over it - all I can say is that I'm going to try. It'll probably be OK in the end. I love Taiwan enough (perhaps my glasses are too rose-colored?), despite its faults (which perhaps I judge overly harshly or incorrectly?) that I am applying for permanent residency. I've figured it out before - how to be happy in Washington, DC when DC had a vibe that absolutely does not work for me - and getting over far more core-shaking culture shock in India. I can do this too.

Anyway, j'ai plein de tours de magie
Pour faire de l'enfer un paradis.

Plum Rain and Communication Breakdown

I don't know what I like about you, but I like it a lot.

Anyway, it's rare that I feel anything greater than a low-level, temporary frustration in Taiwan. When I do, it's rarely ever greater than the frustration I sometimes feel back home, where nothing is convenient, everything's too quiet and boxed off, doing even one simple thing is expensive and you have to drive everywhere (plus having to share the country with people who make me feel ashamed of America - though I don't have to deal with them much, seeng as I'm an east coast liberal progressive feminist socialist elitist snob - although not, to reference Woody Allen, a pornographer, Communist, homosexual or Jew).

The past two days, however, have imparted onto me a low hum of frustration that has not receded. It seems to be mostly stemming from one source: communicating really, really badly. Everything I've said to somebody who is not a native English speaker (that is, to a Taiwanese person) seems to just not be understood in the way I intended it, or more likely, I screwed up in what I was trying to say in the first place, and the language and culture barrier just invited my poorly articulated words to be misinterpreted.

It got to the point where someone thought I wanted them to have the front seat of his car removed to check for a piece of jewelry of mine that fell somewhere in the car (admittedly it was of great sentimental importance and not insignificant cost). Obviously, that's not what I wanted at all - who would ask for such a thing? I was trying to say that since the only way to find it after having the dealership search thoroughly with flashlights and coming up empty-handed was to remove the seat, but as that was ridiculous, to forget about it and just accept that these things happen.

That's just one example of the mayhem I feel my mouth has unleashed these past few days.

So, clearly, an orangutan signing in Swahili is apparently a better communicator than I am.

I think part of it is cultural: the slightest whiff of mentioning you want something or you are considering something is misinterpreted as a request for that other person to do it for you. I mentioned the car seat, and it was heard as a request to remove it. Or you mention wanting to go somewhere and the person who hears it thinks you want them to be your guide. Or you mention replacing an item lost in their house or car  (because you are intending to replace it yourself) and the person thinks you are hinting that they should replace it. Where we hear idle talking, or thinking out loud, a lot of people here seem to hear subtly-worded requests.

I know these things can happen even years into an expat life in some other country - you think you've basically got it figured out, the bumps are minimal, life is going smoothly (or as smoothly as possible with a family illness to deal with) and fulfillingly, and then BAM! You find your muscles knotting up, you can't seem to say anything clearly, everyone misinterprets you, or they say things you just don't want to or care to hear. To wit, the old guy at 7-11 who, when he saw me buy a Liberty Times, said "That paper is LIES! We are all Chinese and we have 5,000 years of history. You foreigners can't understand. Don't buy that paper of lies!" He said this in English, no less. And me with no good response to such nonsense beyond "大家有他們自己的想法, 大部分的台灣人不同意你的意見" and, after he wouldn't let up "你好傲慢喔" before walking away.

And now, the plum rains are turning Taipei gray. Rain is supposed to wash things away, turn things green, refresh everyone. Instead, it feels like a downpour of more of the same and matches my mood eerily well.

Oh well. Communication breakdown, it's always the same. Communication breakdown, a-drive me insane.

Yes, I Can Use Chopsticks: A Rebuttal

It's been a long weekend and I'm still recovering from a party last night (oh, Kaoliang, you evil temptress!) but I've been turning this article around in my head since I read it nearly one week ago, and thought I'd share my delayed reaction.

Before I go further, I should note that it's written by a famous - and to some extent, infamous - expat-cum-immigrant in Japan. Asia expats might have heard of Debito: he has settled permanently in Japan and regularly makes the news for his social activism. Some agree with him, some disagree, some agree but don't care for his abrasive manner. The last I'd heard of him was from something he wrote about being excluded from "Japanese only" hot springs along with his child who looks more foreign, while his child who looks more Japanese was allowed to enter. Another Taiwan blogger linked to this most recent article saying we'd "recognize our Taiwan experience" in it.

Here are my husband's thoughts, too. He articulates a lot of things more clearly than I have. His two best thoughts, in my opinion, are 1.) that a lot of expats in Asia expect that Asian countries should approach race in a way that mirrors their own culture's idea of political correctness, and get all bent out of shape when they find out that their own country's way of dealing with it isn't universal, and that not everyone in the world agrees that it's "rude" to bring up race; and 2.) a lot of expats see insult or aggression where there is none, because they're not used to not having the privilege of being one of the majority.

On one hand, yes, there are some things I do recognize. The constant wonderment at the fact that I speak halfway decent Chinese. Friends who know I understand Chinese and yet still ask me if I can "read this menu" or if I need an English menu when we've gone out to eat. People amazed that I can use chopsticks. I've been asked "when" I'm moving home. I suppose, in the right frame of mind, you could consider these, as Debito puts it, "microagressions", whether consciously or not by the employer of them, a means to keep me in a subordinate position, to remind me that I am "other", and to imply that I am not of their country. I can't honestly say that I don't recognize some of my Taiwan experience - some - in these incidents. And yes, at times they can be draining - times when I feel like having a real conversation, for instance.

On the other, no, I just don't buy that they are "microagressions". Something can only be used as a subordinating tool if either the speaker and the listener feels that it is. If the Taiwanese person asking me how I learned to speak Chinese, or expresses amazement that I can use chopsticks, but is asking out of a genuine desire to converse with me and not out of a desire to remind me of my "otherness", and I take it at face value: this person is chatting with me in the way that we might bring up the weather, traffic or something around us to a stranger back home as a means of striking up a conversation. That's all. Are they doing it in a somewhat awkward and occasionally annoying way? Yes. I'd go so far as to say that they probably want to talk to me specifically because I am foreign, and they choose these irritating topics because they just don't know what else to say. I mean, think about it - with a new person in your own country, you start with boring, even annoying topics. Who really cares about the weather? If you don't know someone, you have to start somewhere, and there doesn't seem to be much of a cultural equivalent in Taiwan to chatting with a stranger about how rainy or sunny it is.

Could their amazement at my level of assimilation (which is not 100%, not by a long shot) be construed as an assumption that I am "other", with a whole set of prejudices to go along with it? Yes.

That doesn't mean that such talk is designed - consciously or not - to put me in my place, any more than chatting about the weather is. If they don't intend it that way, and I don't take it that way, then how can it actually be that way? It's not a tree falling in the woods - if nobody is there to scream "racism and microaggression!" - then no, it did not make a sound.

Next, I find that once those "yes I can use chopsticks" topics are exhausted - which is pretty quickly - that if you have chemistry as potential friends, most people do want to keep talking to you, and the conversation becomes more interesting. If they lost interest after all their curiosities were satisfied - OK, she can use chopsticks and has lived here for five years, I know everything I need to know, time to move on - then that would be upsetting. More often than not, though, it's simply not the case.

This may well be one of the reasons why foreigners in Taiwan seem to have so few Taiwanese friends - although I have noticed a greater proportion of local friends among expats here than in China, and we seem to have more Taiwanese friends than our friends in Tokyo have Japanese friends. If you're nobody's classmate, few peoples' coworker and nobody's family, and you rebuff locals' efforts to chat with you when you're out and about, then of course you're not going to make many local friends. DUH 101.

Next, I really feel you can't quite equate foreigners in Asia with immigrants and expats in the USA or any very diverse country: in the USA an Asian person or person of Asian heritage (or whatever, I don't want to twist myself into linguistic pretzels) is not a rarity, at least not in the part of the country I'm from. There's no reason to think any differently of that person than anyone else you'd see on the street. In Asia, I'm sorry but if you're a foreigner, you are a rarity, even in major cities (although to a much lesser extent). That is never going to change. Not even if you stay here forever. Not even if you marry local. The people who live around you and see you everyday will get used to seeing you around, but most people aren't your daily crew. The questions might be old to you, but they are new - or rare - to the person asking them. The dynamics are just different: you can't compare a mostly monocultural/monoethnic society with a diverse one and expect the same prevailing attitudes. This is also why I don't think it's a big deal when Taiwanese people relate to race and relate to foreigners differently than, say, Americans, British or Australians might. They come from and are in a country where most people look like them and, more or less, share their culture. We are not from such a country. You can't expect the same attitudes (although I'd like to see more diversity generally. That would help ameliorate such issues).

Furthermore, Debito might be fully Japanese and attempting to assimilate as an immigrant would, but most of us aren't. Most of us are expats. Sure, we can expect similar treatment to locals in terms of friendliness of service and generally not being subject to racism, but we can't expect to be related to as 100% locals, because we aren't locals. We're not at all. Most of us maintain - as my friend J put it - some sort of connection to an identity that's tied to our own culture and country. It is not wrong to recognize that (although I would draw the line at unfair treatment as a result of it, which does happen). I do think there is an acceptable balance between locals knowing I am a foreigner - because, duh, I am! - and yet treating me respectfully and kindly. To some extent, I am an other in the way that a minority in the USA isn't.

To add to this, I feel that a lot of the time, locals just don't expect that we're interested in assimilating into their culture. Let's be honest - most of us aren't (I am, but only to a certain extent and in certain ways). Most expats will stay as long as their assignment lasts, or will slum it in a cram school for a few years, or take some Chinese classes, and then go home. A very few will stay long-term and fewer still will assimilate fully. Even ones who marry locals might not assimilate, and might eventually return "home" with their spouses. Most locals figure, these folks come from countries we want to move to (allowing a broad definition of "we"). They come from countries that attract immigrants. Westerners already have it all: they wouldn't want to immigrate to this hot, crowded island that I want to escape! For the most part, the locals are right. Few of us are interested in full assimilation, and fewer still actually want to immigrate permanently and gain citizenship. I can't fault the Taiwanese for being right about this. Immigrants and minorities in the USA, while retaining their home culture to some degree, also tend to assimilate through generations. Expats who will eventually go home tend not to. Exceptions are few. We are Other.

The chopsticks thing is annoying - I have been asked this but my husband says that while it happened in Korea, it has happened to him exactly zero times in Taiwan. The other questions, though - well, most foreigners can speak some Chinese, but not always well (and so many can speak hardly any, if any). In fact, the people who seem most impressed by my Chinese ability are other foreigners who haven't learned it. Most do seem to hang out with other foreigners, which I can't entirely blame them for, and are not necessarily knowledgeable about local affairs. Locals express surprise that I know who 千里眼 and 順風耳 are, but let's be honest, while plenty of long-termers or enthusiasts would know, the majority of foreigners would not.

I also feel that a lot of foreigners in Taiwan and elsewhere in Asia are often "looking for a diss". If you're always on your tiptoes looking for something to bitch about, to hate about where you live, to be offended by, BY GOLLY YOU WILL FIND IT. Sometimes the complaints are valid - even I need to blow off steam sometimes. My pet peeve is slow walkers with no consideration for other pedestrians sharing the sidewalk, escalators or MRT platforms. Especially in the rain.

Sometimes, though, they're ridiculous.

"People never sit next to me on the MRT or bus. They're afraid to sit next to foreigners!" Yeah, no. I have found that to be completely untrue. Maybe you just look creepy, because I don't have that problem. I've heard this three times, once on a blog, once from someone whom I think heard it said at Brass Monkey or whatever and was just repeating it, and once from a guy with really bad breath (so with the last one, well, that's the reason, we're just all too polite to say so).

I'm sure this has happened - I'm sure that occasionally a foreigner will find themselves on a full train or bus and notice that the only empty seat is next to them. I just don't think it's a "phenomenon", I do think that sometimes (not all the time) this has to do with the actual foreigner in question, and that occasionally those who notice this might not notice the 1 or 2 other empty seats also on that bus or train car. Allowing for random chance, that brings the likelihood that this is some sort of anti-foreigner racist no-sitting conspiracy very low, if not nil.

Or in IKEA, between two foreigners in line behind me: "The Taiwanese don't understand foreigners speaking Chinese! Sometimes I think they don't want to understand us. They don't want us to learn their language, so they purposely misunderstand! Just a minute, I need to buy a bag and the 22 kuai ones aren't there." Then, to the clerk, "可以買二十二塊的包子嗎？"

And, y'know, maybe if you're constantly looking for a diss, looking for offense where none was meant, then maybe again that's why you're having trouble making local friends. Debito says some foreigners "cultivate a group of close friends, hopefully Japanese but probably not" in order to deal with this. I can't speak for Japan, but while I concur that it can be challenging to make local friends in Taiwan, it's not impossible (I did it, and I can be so socially awkward it's not funny, despite being outgoing). If you're a long-termer and your circle of good friends includes no Taiwanese other than maybe your girlfriend, then the problem is you.

Obviously, there are times when locals - especially in a work situation, or when members of the opposite sex are involved - do try to put foreigners "in their place". These instances are especially insidious, though, and have much more impact than a simple "oh, wow, you can use chopsticks!". While many locals might feel shy or a bit nervous around foreigners - something more diversity will help change, as will more cross-cultural friendships (not so much relationships, but friendships - I feel that when you take sex out of the equation the influence is actually stronger) - fairly few will feel the need to force you into a subordinate, "other" position. And they're usually your boss, or some local guy who wants the girl you're macking on.

Finally, a quibble with the article itself rather than its assertions. To quote:

Alas, my actions to stem or deter this just make me look alarmist, reactionary and paranoid in the eyes of the critics (especially the NJ ones, who seem to think I'm somehow "spoiling" Japan for them), either because they haven't experienced these microaggressions for themselves, or because they live in denial.


Well, if someone who lives abroad hasn't experienced these microaggressions for themselves, then maybe they're not as common as you think? DUH 201, which you can take after you pass DUH 101 as a prerequisite? I can understand how the constant sameness of the questions wears you down, but maybe, just maybe, the "invisible insults" you read into them aren't the microaggressions you are making them out to be? 


I also can't really get on board with "...or because they live in denial". I mean, that's just like saying "those of you who don't agree with me are stupid" or "if you don't see what I am talking about, you are an idiot" rather than forming a clear argument and strong case. It's a wimp's way out - although I am tempted to use it on certain types of conservatives.


I get asked these questions fairly frequently. It gets irritating sometimes, but I don't feel insulted or subordinated. I do draw a distinction between actual subordination based on racism and these silly conversation topics. I don't think this means I "live in denial" - just that I approach it differently.

Breadwinning The Future

A few months ago I taught a unit to a group of students, all of whom happened to be female. The unit focused on idioms dealing with careers, work and ambition: things like “bring home the bacon”, “burn the candle at both ends”, “hit the glass ceiling” and “be a breadwinner”.

I did a survey in that class – eight idioms in total, one question per idiom that a student had to ask all of her classmates. One of these questions was “Is it OK for a wife to be the primary breadwinner?”

I was really surprised by the results – 4 in favor and 4 against. The “against” responders later clarified that they meant that they personally did not want to be breadwinners, but that it would be fine with them if another woman was one. A personal choice, not a view on what society should be. Those four women all expanded on their ideas, with responses along the lines of “I feel it’s not fulfilling to have to work hard and be responsible for earning most of the money” to “I like to feel that my husband can take care of me” to “honestly speaking, I don’t like my job and when I get married I hope I can quit” to “most Taiwanese men can’t accept a wife who makes more than he does, so it is easier if I don’t”.

OK, fair enough in that these are personal choices, and earning the bulk of the family income doesn’t have to be a life goal, nor is it necessarily fulfilling, so I can respect that as a choice. The final answer, though, that it’s “just easier” because “Taiwanese men can’t accept a wife who is a breadwinner” really irked me. Yet another example women giving in to pander to the egos of men, because it’s easier than standing up, fighting back, and telling a guy like that to **** off, and slowly, one by one, pushing the culture in a more progressive direction. It sucks when you feel you’re the only one doing it, but a culmination of women who do is the only way to change things.

Of course, in class I have to be careful not to ever show even the appearance of passing judgment on a student’s opinion, so my response was more measured.

I was planning to do the same unit in another class, and the other day that finally happened. Interestingly, this time, in a class of 4 women and 4 men, all 8 (plus me, for a total of 9) said it was fine for a wife to be a breadwinner.

Hooray! I thought! Progress! Taiwan can haz it!

People’s elaboration was more along the lines of “well why wouldn’t that be OK? Of course it’s OK”.

Again, yay, progress!

Then one of the female students said “I wonder if these 4 guys would be OK if their wives earned more.”

And, sadly, all four said something along the lines of “No way!” “No, I’m not comfortable with that!” or “I’m not a – how do you say – 小白臉! 我不吃軟飯！”

That translates literally into “I’m not a little white face”, but it’s more like “I’m not a little b****!”, although perhaps slightly less profane. The second phrase translates into “I don’t eat soft rice”, which is idiomatic.

Face, meet palm. Progress? Progress? Where did you go, O Progress? But not in class. Inwardly, I was all HULK ANGRY! HULK SMASH! but I had to present a professional face. 

All I could do was point out the logic problem: “so it’s OK for other women to be breadwinners, but not for your wives?”

“Yes, I know, it is wrong, but we are old guys!” one said. “I think the young generation won’t have this opinion.”

Well, at least he knows it’s wrong. It’s about as sexist as “I don’t mind gay people but my son better not be gay” (also a common refrain in Taiwan) is homophobic. That is, very. 

This isn’t exactly news in Taiwan, but it’s worth noting even as I blog about all the awesome, successful women I work with: general managers, regional CEOs, executives, vice presidents. I earn good money, but these women could trample me salary-wise. It’s worth noting again even as we move on from the aftermath of an election that came very close to giving Taiwan its first female president.

As usual, the problem isn’t that women aren’t capable, willing or ambitious. It isn’t the law holding them back – although the laws are not perfect. The system is stacked against them, still, but not nearly as much as in other Asian countries.

The problem, as it always seems to, boils down to men with idiotic, outdated, sexist and egotistical attitudes. Not all men, obviously, but enough that this is really the main issue (as it is in the USA, where other than our reproductive rights and access being eroded frighteningly quickly, legally we’ve reached a place better than previously achieved in history – and yet those attitudes linger on).

There are Taiwanese women who will agree with those men – the first example I gave had a few, but even they will be quick to note that theirs is a personal choice and not an edict for society. You won’t meet many Taiwanese women who will say that all women should earn less than their husbands, or that it’s a man’s right, pride and face to be a breadwinner. You will, however, meet men in Taiwan who will say that – even though the men in my second example did technically word their opinions as a personal choice, not a social ideal (in that sense it wasn’t a very good example).

But, that aside, you will hear men and women alike say that Taiwanese men generally prefer to out-earn their wives. Hell, you can meet American men who would say something similar.

This is what really needs to change – men’s attitudes generally toward breadwinning wives. I have no issue if a traditionally-minded man and a similarly traditional woman get together and do their traditional thing, but I do have an issue with this attitude as a social construct, and I’d like to, overall, see a steep decline in the number of people who adhere to it – consciously or not. I’d like to see high wage-earning women have more romantic options and not feel that their salaries pose an obstacle when it comes to finding a partner (if a partner is what they want). I’d like them to know, confidently, that there are men out there – enough men - who won’t be scared off by the idea of them being breadwinners.

This may be one of the reasons why so few foreign women seem to date Taiwanese men (although, generally, I’m seeing more dating in that direction which I think is great). There are progressive ones out there, but a lot of them are still pretty traditional. I wouldn’t date a guy who felt he had to make more than me, simply because he was the Big Manly Man, regardless of how our salaries actually matched up. It’s an issue of principle.

And I do feel that this change needs to come from the men: their desire to always be breadwinners is based on face, not reality or sensibility – and I’m sorry but this is just something that needs to stop being a “face” issue. I know, it’s rich of me to say that, when I don’t have a Taiwanese cultural background, but c’mon. Taiwanese culture has managed to make having a female boss not such a big issue of face. They managed to make having a working wife at all to be not an issue of face. Taiwan is a fairly progressive country when compared to the rest of Asia – I see no reason why this can’t be changed with time and perseverance as well.

Although, as usual, it’ll be women doing all the cultural heavy lifting and then the men who finally need to make the change in their attitudes. Ah, history. Don’t you love it when it repeats?

I’ll end with an anecdote I’m sure I’ve told before on this blog. Almost a year ago, just before we left for Turkey, we had dinner with some local friends of mine. My husband was facing visa issues – basically, our company was being a giant ass – and it had all gotten really bad just that day. Because we’re friends, we shared the Our Company is a Giant Ass and is Screwing With My Husband’s Visa story. At one point I said, “honey, if it’s that bad, and you really feel you need to do it for your own dignity, quit. Just quit. I make enough to support us. Do what you need to do and we’ll make it work.”

The guy friend looked shocked but said nothing. Later, he told me that it was really surprising to hear that – a lot of women would not just tell their husbands it was OK to quit and she’d support them in the meantime. I was worried he thought I was some sort of scary feminist ogre (not because I’d be ashamed to be that, but because I’d be disappointed in a friend who thought that), but no. He thought it was awesome, and that I was a “woman with guts”. Taiwan is a great country with fantastic people, but let’s be honest – you won’t get too many Taiwanese men thinking that.

This is what I hope for. This is what I want to see more of. It can be done.

The R-Word

When I went to Turkey, some of my students were given substitute/replacement instructors. Some chose to wait. I knew that even when those classes ended, I would not necessarily get them back: generally the trainer who has a class when it officially ends gets first priority in the renewal. I knew and was OK with that.

Recently it got back to me that one of the students I gave up had “really liked me”, but was “happy to keep her new teacher” because “she’s Asian” (Australian of Cantonese descent) and she feels more comfortable with a teacher of Asian heritage – or, to be blunt, in the words I was actually told, “another woman who looks like her”.

Now, I realize that this was secondhand information and there’s no guarantee that my former student’s true sentiments were reflected in this game of telephone. I also realize that the person who told me might well have been trying to protect my feelings by not saying that, regardless of race, she just preferred the new trainer (which, you know, it happens. Oh well). The person who told me is pretty blunt, though, and the student in question and I had a very good, friendly, dare I say ‘close’ relationship. So…who knows.

What’s interesting is the reaction when I mentioned this on Facebook – when it happened, I felt a bit hurt. Not so much at the possibility that a student would prefer another trainer (although that sucks, I figure it’s a lot like finding a good therapist: even the best ones don’t click with every patient and it’s a patient’s right to find one they ‘click’ with. It doesn’t mean that the one they left was bad). More at the idea that, despite liking me quite a bit, learning a lot and enjoying the class, if my intuition that we’d had a good relationship had been correct, that I’d be passed over simply because I’m white, not Asian.

I realize people face this all the time in the otherdirection – schools and other employers regularly discriminate against Westerners of Asian heritage - and it’s a lot worse going that way. I’m not trying to detract from that or trying for a condescending “I know how you feel”. Just adding my experience. A lot of discussion on racism in English teaching in Taiwan is about discriminating against English teachers who don't look Western - while that's a far more serious problem, I do feel a different perspective based on different experience is valuable.

Generally speaking my Western friends didn’t comment much – but my Taiwanese friends sure did!

And here’s the thing: if you take as a given that the student did, in fact like me and there is no missing information, and it is in fact true that another instructor was chosen purely on the basis of that instructor’s race compared to mine, I personally feel that’s a form of racism, or if you want a less loaded term, “racial discrimination”. I mean it’s judging someone and making a decision based 100% on race – how is that not discrimination?

My Taiwanese friends generally felt differently, though -  few chimed in with agreement that it just sucks, and nobody should judge people based on skin tone, and it stinks that people still feel this way regarding race (which many undoubtedly do).

Most came out and said that they did not, in fact, consider that situation to be “racism”. I’m still at a slight loss as to why, because with one exception from one very eloquent friend whom I routinely mistake for being a native speaker of English (she did go to high school and college abroad, though), all of the reasons given still struck me as, well, as racism. Or “racial discrimination”. Or whatever.

Which may be a bit of culture difference I’ll never get over. I’m not even sure I want to.

The very eloquent answer: that, despite this other teacher being culturally Australian despite looking Asian, that with her family roots in Hong Kong, there would be some sort of gut-level cultural synergy between her and the student that I could not pick up on, because as someone with zero ties to “Chinese culture” besides living here for 5+ years, I wouldn’t have it. There might be cultural concordance that, while not easy to articulate, is there on some fundamental level that makes the student feel more comfortable.

OK, I can buy that. Race isn’t just about race, after all, it’s about culture – and even though I consider anyone born in whatever country, regardless of their family history, to be of that country (so a kid with Chinese parents born in Canada, to me, is Canadian), that they will have cultural ties and cultural traits passed down from their parents that I don’t. I mean, I have that, and my most recently emigrated relative is my grandfather. I have ties to Armenian, especially Armenian-diaspora-from-Turkey, culture that are on some level hard to explain to others. Hell, I even planned an entire seven-week trip around returning to Mousa Dagh to see where I come from. Looking out from that gorgeous orange-tree dotted mountain out to the Mediterranean below is and will continue to be one of the most memorable moments of my life. My grandfather practically cried when I gave him a framed picture of me in the last remaining Armenian village on the mountain.

Although, I couldn’t help but think when we discussed it, that if you’re going to learn a foreign language then you’re kinda-sorta obligated to interact with the culture that comes with that language. In my heart of hearts I do feel it’s sort of a cop-out to want to learn English but interact with other Asians, avoiding the Big White Other as much as possible. It’s really not any better than foreigners coming to Taiwan to learn Chinese and then hanging out almost exclusively with other foreigners (except for maybe a local girlfriend). I can almost-sorta understand that, though, as many people in that situation would probably like to make more local friends, but havetrouble doing so.

On the other hand, I’ve said a few times that I’m going to leave my job fairly soon (this is an open secret so I’m not worried about saying so here), and one of the reasons is that I would really either prefer to work for myself, or have a foreign boss – I just can’t take the constant sandpaper-like scratchy-scratchy culture clash of having an overseas Chinese (not Taiwanese) boss who treats foreigners like they’re Chinese employees and then gets flustered when we don’t act in accordance with that. So…OK. I kind of get it.

Otherwise, I do have to say, I got a bunch of stuff I’d still label as “racist”.

One friend said “if I were a Chinese teacher in the USA and a student wanted an American teacher and not me, I would not consider it discrimination.” Really? Because I would.

One said “Maybe she wanted the Asian teacher because her English is not good” (it is, but that’s not the point) “and she thinks she can speak Chinese with the new one.” Nice try, but I speak far better Mandarin than the new teacher, and is it not racist to assume that someone who looks Asian will necessarily speak better Chinese than someone who does not?

(To digress a bit, but in related news, I do seem to have a few Taiwanese friends who, despite knowing I speak Chinese, still have this idea that I don’t speak Chinese. Not in a malicious “we don’t want you to learn our language” way, but in a really hilarious, although also slightly annoying, “I have to prove to you more than once that I do in fact speak Chinese even if I am not perfect” way. One said “Oh yes, [Cangjie] is too hard for you.” “Come on, I’m not stupid.” “No, you’re not stupid, you’re a foreigner.” I called him out on that and we had a good laugh. Another asked me if I could read a basic Chinese menu after seeing me typing and replying in Chinese on Facebook for months. I was really heartened when yet another – finally, in a show of faith – told someone else I’d be fine at Taiwanese opera because they had Mandarin electronic subtitles and I could read those. THANK YOU SASHA).

Another said “with other Asians we feel comfortable. With foreigners, we like you and we’re friends with foreigners, but sometimes there is a ‘sense of distance’, and maybe she doesn’t feel that with the new teacher.” (translated from Chinese)

OK, but feeling a ‘sense of distance’ based solely on the fact that I’m Big Whitey – how is that not also a subtler, and also sadder, form of racism (even if it’s not the virulent ‘I hate foreign people’ kind)?

I mean, honestly, I wrote yesterday about not having a "best friend" in Taiwan - I mean a female best friend, not in the way that my husband is my best friend - and while I value my foreign and local friendships equally even if we interact in different ways, I have to say I feel far greater chemistry and intuitive understanding with my Taiwanese friends than with any other random foreigner who is not my friend. Maybe I'm weird. Maybe I just don't feel that synergy or that "cultural connection" (although I feel that on some level, I must. I'm not that special after all). I don't feel a "sense of distance" with my Taiwanese friends even if we don't always have the same sort of interactions I do with other Westerners. In Chinese there's this idea of an 'unspoken understanding' or 'chemistry' (默契) - and I do feel that many locals expect that foreigners will feel 默契 with each other. Well...no. I mean, maybe on some level, sure, but I feel more 默契 with my Taiwanese friends, especially my female friends (my male friends are great but it's a different sort of friendship), than I would with any given foreigner if I didn't know them - because it's based on friendship and knowing someone, not on race and how someone looks, or even entirely on their cultural background. 

So...I dunno. On some level I can sort of understand this but on another I just don't get it. Or I don't agree. I'm not sure which - still processing my thoughts there.

In the end, all I can say is that there really seems to be a difference in how we Westerners perceive racism vs. how it’s perceived by many Taiwanese. This is what I was trying to say in an earlier post – especially the fact that while we might see all foreigners as “foreigners”, locals often group us into “high income white people” (regardless of whether we’re high income or not – I feel we’re generally not, but then most of my students earn six figures NT per month) and “service and factory working Southeast Asians and foreign brides”. It’s fairly common for locals to say 外國人” and mean “white people” – Koreans are Koreans, Japanese are Japanese, Chinese are Chinese or “Mainlanders”, and – surprisingly – Africans and African Americans (or black people of any other country) are not 外國人 but “black people”.  Anecdotally, my friend’s girlfriend has done this, and another local friend confirmed that yes, a lot of people do think that way.

And – for whatever reason, because I still don’t get it, not really – there’s an idea that it’s OK to prefer people of your own race, regardless of their cultural upbringing, simply because they look like you, and that’s not racism. Other things we’d probably call “racist” would not be called so here. It’s not quite as bad as the infamous Lonely Planet China quote from a Chinese person: “There’s no racism in China because there are no black people in China”, but still, it’s there.

I don’t deny that there does seem, in any culture, to be a certain “understanding” between people who have similar ethnic heritage and it makes sense that people would gravitate to those who share a common cultural background, but, I don’t know, I still feel that making business decisions based on that is, on some level, racist. Even if it’s the way of this very unfair world. I am not sure I’d go so far as to say that people – regardless of any language they might be learning – are racist if they make moves towards surrounding themselves with their own race and culture, and don’t exhibit an interest in interacting with, much less befriending, anyone outside of that bubble, but I do question it. And I do wonder.