Adieu

Dear Loyal Readers of Half What,

This weblog is officially defunct.

Goodbye!

XO,
LeeAnn

So Asian right now.

Annual Call for Bone-throwing?

Yes, it has occurred to me that the fact that I have time to compose blog posts that long means that I don't have enough to do. (It's true.)

It also occurs to me that blogs with a set theme (Taiwanese politics, Ultimate, food porn, etc.) are usually more fun to read and that if I perhaps set myself to some purpose it might better keep me from sharing too much about my personal life.

I also realize that I usually post to this as if I am posting to an audience, but an audience of no one I know, which is entirely false. (In fact, I can think of only two people who might be struck to check this blog on a semi-regular basis, and they know me quite well.)

And of course the last thought is that Halfwhat's hit another wall whereat there's too much of my beans spilled on the wall and Jen, Lindsey, and Juli have once again lost their appendages to gangrene, margaritas, and flesh-eating bacteri. Sad.

Thank you for smoking (and not expecting a scolding).

I have a friend who picked up smoking in college and now is unable to quit. Two weekends ago, when he lit up, he asked if I didn't mind and if I'd like one also, and when I gracefully declined said, "Oh, come on! You know you want one." And I said, Well, no, thanks, but no, not right now. Later in the evening, the good-natured nudge turned into a kind of begging, "Oh, come on. Don't make me smoke out here alone." At the end of the night, as I came back from the restroom and he was on his sixth cigarette in the hall outside our group's KTV bao xiang, he offered and I declined again, and he said finally, "If you don't like it, why don't you tell me to stop?"

I could barely help rolling my eyes. He has plenty of friends, mostly girls, who repeatedly implore him to stop: "Mike, don't smoke!" They say it so often that it's now a running gag and he always makes a point of lighting up with a smile after they say it. I told him, "It's your choice to smoke. I'm not judging you for it."

And he said, "But smoking is one of those things, you want people to tell you to stop because then you know that they care about you."

At the time, I shot right back, almost annoyed, but laughed to take the edge off, "I can care about you and not tell you what to do. This is a life choice you're making, and you know what it does to you. I could tell you not to do a million things that supposedly kill you, but that doesn't have anything to do with whether or not I care about you."

I still believe this, but I wonder if it's indicative of some kind of callousness on my part. Sometimes, my mother tells me that I ought to tell this friend or that friend that they're great but oh, they should get braces, or lose weight, or something or another that she thinks they could work on. Then she says, "Oh, I guess you can't say that; American friends don't do that, do they? Americans are only allowed to worry about themselves. They can't say what they mean; it's not polite, is it, to tell your friends those things? Even if it's in their best interest! But really, he should get braces...he's such a nice boy. Tell him I said so." I never really say anything in reply, usually, when she accuses me of being an American without the heart to tell it like it is or help my friends improve; but I think the point is less that I am keeping judgments to myself and more that I just don't make those judgments. I'd like to think that I am the type to help friends when I can, but is it really an unfeeling "American" philosophy to "respect" others' judgment at the expense of, maybe, actively helping them improve? Or is it that I just don't think most of those things are problems people should rectify--crooked teeth, being overweight, smoking, and whatever else? I've never thought it had anything to do with culture, but that's mostly because I have a hard time teasing out my Asian cultural influences from my American ones and like to think of all of my tendencies as my own special tendencies. I've come to realize that that can be a bit naive.

--

As an aside, I almost typed, "It made me wonder..." and that reminds me that there is a TV show in Taiwan called "I love beauty" (我愛美麗) whose opening is an unabashed copy of the Sex and the City opening credits, complete with scenes of Taipei, a bus, a big puddle, and a tutu included.

Notes from Taiwan, vol. III

It appears that I'm too soft for academia. Or maybe I just shouldn't listen to Cat Power while researching.

Reading about, writing about, and talking about politics and history is much more emotionally taxing than I thought it would be-- I've got friends interviewing recovering heroin addicts for their theses and telling me how harrowing their stories can be, but I'm feeling a little more than distressed myself just reading about the political and ideological tussles (past and present) that have been going on for the last hundred or so years over my favorite North Pacific island. One can't help but feel that one's unborn thesis will just be another useless pile of junk to be added to the Great China-Taiwan Cross-Strait Debate.

--

In lieu of having an available adviser to suggest potential avenues of inquiry or new resources, I've stumbled upon a curious and largely Caucasian community of academics and Sinophiles (is this derogatory?)--foreign bloggers living in Taiwan and writing political commentary on the issues of the day and, from those newer to life in Asia, the funny things they've eaten since arriving. They've all read up on their Chinese, Japanese, and general East Asian history, and some of them have lived in Asia much longer than I have. Their posts (on issues, for instance, like the mess at CKS), often draw impassioned comments in broken English from native Chinese and Taiwanese. These folks often end up battling each other fiercely while the Academic Sinophiles periodically insert their factual bits to calm the waters and remind everyone to be civil (smiley face smiley face wink ~~ I hate emoticons). Case in point: a post on the DPP's name rectification movement by Roy Berman (alias Mutantfrong), evidently a scholar studying in Japan who once lived in Taiwan. Reading the comment war that follows makes me cringe, realizing that these are truly arguments that people have every day; it also makes me think of all those videos of Taiwanese legislators throwing fists in parliament sessions. (YouTube it if you're curious. "Taiwanese legislators fighting" will do. These videos also come with strings of sad and entertaining comments.)

(Oh, and I'm not actually using blogs in the place of research. Really.)

--


On a slightly related note, another thing one finds a lot in blogs and opinion columns are revelations about the Asian American woman's identity crisis: the one in which they realize that for all practical purposes, they are not American-looking, and will always fall into those good old-fashioned Oriental aesthetic stereotypes--almond eyes, petite frames, high cheekbones. My revelation this time around is not really about being or becoming someone's Asian fetish, although recently, a Google sponsored link assured me that there are good people out there actively making sure that everyone's Asian fetishes and green card needs are being satisfied--that URL was under the link "Taiwanese penpals wanted."

What I was surprised by this time was that I often smile at non-Asian people when passing them in the street. It's a habit I have in America with everyone, but I do it here because of a few faulty assumptions: a) I assume that if they're not Asian, they're American, or otherwise, speak English; b) I assume that if they're American, or speak English, they will recognize this as a familiar and friendly gesture; c) I assume they would welcome a friendly gesture from a fellow American or English-speaking person, especially if they look particularly lost or concerned; of course, that all depends on d) I assume that I look "American." But, oh wait, I don't, so the big revelation is that maybe all those foreigners have thought I was trying to subtly hit on them. Can one do this just with a glance?

---

And on the Ultimate side, World Ultimate competition is going on right now, without my participation, of course. I hope those basketball-playing Taiwanese girls are doing alright, but to be honest and selfish, I hope even more that Michael Hu and his friends are regretting not taking another female player (cue my shaking fist). Renegade Province has begun its training for the Singapore Open in earnest though, and in some strange turn of events, I find myself again in the place of a reluctant handler. They tell me most mixed teams round these parts like to have a female back, but I haven't found this to be the case necessarily in American mixed, so I don't really know what the reasoning is.

The boys out here (as, perhaps, with certain Cantabrigian mixed teams) must sometimes be reminded that they should respect their female players for what they can do. In the interest of such reminding, I embarrassed the heck out of one of my friends last Sunday. He is about 1 foot and some inches taller than I am and so thought he could play arrogant by poaching, marking lazy, and trying to throw an easy break around my head. I responded by scoring deep, throwing a backhand break for the assist, and kickblocking the crap out of him, respectively. He took it well, I think.

Note

Air conditioning + caffeine + wifi + table + chair = Productivity

At the moment,

Starbucks = Air conditioning + caffeine + wifi + table + chair.

C'est la vie.

A few notes

• Weather: Hot, humid, and full of thunderstorms and cicadas.

• Another Facebook success story: Posted my Taiwan cell phone number on Facebook and the next morning a friend from high school called me up and we had lunch. We haven't talked since he graduated from Torrey Pines four years ago and caught up on life, love, work, and school as if we'd been pals for years. We weren't even close to close in high school, but we acknowledged things frankly and I realized that the twenty-somethings and the years preceding them really level out all sorts of social inequities. Later that evening we went out with some of his friends--workerbees from McKinsey, Morgan Stanley, and Imperial Tobacco, ah, the young professionals scene. My friend Mr. Wu, once unabashedly introverted, a history buff with a penchant for trivia, tennis, and not much else as far as I could tell, has learned to entertain and be entertained, to smoke "socially" and pretend that he is not addicted, to party hard from Friday till the wee hours of Monday before his flight out at 7 am to HK, Singapore, Beijing, Korea... and, of course, to make sure a girl gets home safely at the end of the evening. Never mind that he dreads waking up in the morning and looks forward mostly to the cigarette at the end of the workday--I think he'll come out of the funk soon.

• Academia: Today is gallery day. With my three maps in purse (one of the Taipei Metro Rapid Transit system, one detailed map of the business district of Taipei, and one map of art galleries), a camera, a steno, and as much courage and street smarts as I can muster, I'm going to try to visit every art gallery in Taipei. Next week, I meet with a professor and some of his graduate students at the Institute for Taiwan History of the Academica Sinica. I will have to figure out how to speak in Chinese about my topic before then. I have a friend here who had a year at Tulane before Katrina hit, and he's just finished his exams so we're going to climb mountains, climb walls (there is bouldering here!), shoot arrows, and, perhaps, navigate the bowels of Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall.

• And of course, the Ultimate report: Have opportunities to play a tournament in Singapore at the end of August and possibly Vancouver (for the World Flying Disc Federation's Championships, representing Chinese Taipei) at the beginning of August. Of course, I have a habit of getting far too excited about eggs in Ultimate baskets that never seem to hatch, so I am just holding my breath, keeping my fingers crossed, and maybe trying to get some research done in the meantime.

You look different (A Dialogue)

"You're so tan!" -- Ni sai hei le.

"Oh, I know!" Embarrassed hands covering cheeks. -- Dui, dui.

"Are you more... muscular?" -- Hao xiang bi jiao...zhuang yi dian.

"Do you mean have I gained weight?" -- Ni shi shuo wo pang le ma?

"Well, I was trying to be polite." -- Wo shi hao qi yi dian de shuo.