Commemorating Ted Kennedy

The magazine cover's image stood out from the riffraff of publications surrounding it. I stooped to inspect the stark black and white photo staring back at me. There stood Ted Kennedy next to his two older brothers, frozen in time and in the history of America's greats. The caption gave away the contents: 1932-2009. One of the most influential people to ever have graced the halls of the Senate had passed away from a brain tumor. Having been preoccupied with the move to New York and the commencement of my graduate degree, I had managed to remain ignorant to America's recent loss. The news suddenly explained the flags at half mast, swaying in the New Jersey summer breeze. Newsweek's Commemorative Issue was a gateway into the life of a political figure I had only heard of in controversial light on evening news circuits. The sorrow of the devastating loss of two older brothers, both of whom died at the hands of assassins within the span of 5 years, hit home as I imagined myself coping with the potential loss of my own two brothers. Years of addiction plagued the career of the last of the Kennedy brothers. Womanizing and booze tended to overshadow the brilliant career of one of our greatest statesmen. Ted Kennedy, despite his struggle with addiction, became one of the most influential senators of our time, playing his part in civil rights legislation, defending healthcare for the impoverished, and finally in recent years, helping pass the No Child Left Behind Bill. He stood for those who too often lack a voice in the political arena: the destitute and underprivileged. His life devotion was that universal health care would eventually become reality. Let us hope that his untiring efforts will not be in vain. The late Ted Kennedy was the embodiment of the human spirit; that every individual must face down the demons of their past and live to create a brighter future for the next generation. Like Kennedy, we struggle through the addiction and depression that plague this present world. However, our legacy, and that of Ted Kennedy, doesn't have to be pinned down to the wrongdoings that each one of us will, or have, inevitably committed. In the face of His Creator, Senator Kennedy will be remembered for his unabashed defense of the downtrodden and not for his untimely mistakes. As I looked at the grainy black and white photographs of a family under the curse of history, and read the compiled articles, I felt a lump in my throat quickly forming. Let us judge a person not by their vices but by their successes. The "Lion of the Senate" will be sorely missed.

Buddha Statue

The sun bore down on us that day as we made the ascent to the large Buddha on the hill. We had stupidly chosen one of the hottest days of the week to go and visit the cultural monument. At the bottom of the hill we passed Zhong Hua's cultural center, an inviting haven that would surely provide us with some cool air and a chance to fill up our water bottles. After spending several hours perusing magazines, we continued our expedition. Past children playing in the fountain and an elderly couple dipping their cracked and tired feet into the cool stream, we made our way to the top. It would be one of our last outings together. Despite the heat and fatigue, we thoroughly enjoyed the day. Here are some pictures from our voyage.

Globalization and the Power of Music

Globalization is an unescapable trend that has come to shape the world as we know it. Through the advancements in technology, nations across the world have become more interconnected than ever before. However, human nature remains the same as it was before the birth of cell phones and the internet. As a platform, technology can be used to bring people together or, as some have decided, to divide us into warring factions in order to spread the seeds of instability. Global companies, in order to ensure a large profit margin, have come to disregard the individual. While a Chinese company adds a toxic substance to milk powder resulting in the death of 100's of babies, US food companies still pump chemicals into our food products with no regard for the effects they have on the body. The economy has been in shambles because of manipulation and greed on the part of businessman we are led to trust. Who will adhere to some sort of moral high ground in the twenty-first century? Despite the bleak prognosis for this dying world, there is still hope that the tools present in the globalization of this planet can be used in a way to spread love and joy as never before. Music has always had the ability to unite people under a common language. Certain songs strike a deep chord within our souls. A group called "Playing for Change" is succeeding in bringing people together through music. As a testament to our need for "the other", a need to have someone by your side in difficult times, a team of documentarians went around the world recording song bites from different countries. Here is the culmination of their work: a song that reminds us of what it means to be human and a part of a global community. Isn't that what globalization is truly about, realizing our dependence on others and embracing those around the world?

Language Acquisition

Her name is Elaine. She's a an intelligent, stimulating, Taiwanese girl who I met while living here in Taiwan. She also has severe muscular dystrophy. Despite the many hardships she has had to endure because of her condition, she personifies the passion that life brings to those who embrace its deep emotions and longings. Two Saturdays ago, I had the privilege of meeting with Elaine to discuss some topics for her upcoming video blogs. What began as a mere attempt to record some interesting footage, quickly turned into hours of conversation and a new-found friendship. With her permission, I have decided to post one of our discussions entitled "Language Acquisition". When she has finished editing the rest of the footage, I will be sure to share with you.

Changes

Despite having gone into exile, inadvertently allowing this blog to reach the brink of extinction, I will soon be posting more frequently so you can all share in the events of my life. I promise to stray away from my failed attempts at pure journalism and will also be posting videos, random thoughts, and much needed updates. Stay tuned...

With my year in Taiwan coming to a close, I have decided to try and document some of the moments that have come to shape my experience here. Unfortunately I will be leaving my students, my girlfriend, my friends, and my Chinese behind me as I head back to America for graduate school and the world beyond.

The robot dance I have been using for exercise time at the kindergarten has evolved from simple vertical movements of the arms to coordinated head jerks and spins. From its inception "doing the robot" has come to shape my identity as an English teacher. If only I had known the ripple effect of introducing the robot dance to the masses of children at Fong Yuan Kindergarten. "Teacher Robot" has become a household name. As a tribute to robots and humans alike, I have posted a video of my last exercise time in Taiwan. The blips and blops will go down in history as a testament to the symbiotic relationship between humans and their machine offspring. Enjoy.

Chinese vs. Western Education

Chinese Education                         vs.                  Western Education

- Accepts teaching at face value.                        - Always questioning. Truth 
Truth lies in Confucius’ teachings                     lies in self-discovery and 
and 5000 years of written tradition.                 individual thought.

- The teacher is never to be challenged.           - The teacher is to be 
He is the epitome of correctness.                     challenged often. He is merely 

                                                                                  a guide.

- Questions are irrelevant. Things are              - Questions are encouraged.
the way they are because the teacher                Logic and reason provide a 
says so.                                                                     basis for learning.

- Strives for similitude.                                       - Strives for creativity.

Wedding

Scooters billowed black soot into my unprotected face as they raced by, past flashing lights and neon signs advertising the latest in fashion and confectionaries. The cheesy pop music blaring from some unknown storefront, the endless harassment of consumers by shop owners selling their products, and the girls in miniskirts prancing every which way created a sensory overload, momentarily distracting me from my incessant pedaling. From the nether regions of my book bag came the faintest melody. Careful not to crash my bike into a scooter parked on the sidewalk, I pulled off the road and scrambled to find my cell phone. “Wei?” I answered, in an attempt to sound as Taiwanese as possible. “Do you want to go to a Taiwanese wedding?” the voice on the other end manifested itself. Through a mixture of Chinese and English I accepted the invitation and agreed to meet with several of my Taiwanese co-workers the following morning so we could go together.

Sitting on the back of my assistant teacher’s scooter, I watched as the city gave way to hills and jungle-like vegetation visible through the gaps between buildings. We climbed steadily onward as our caravan neared the bride’s parents’ house. The wind played with my pencil-thin black tie, a smart addition to the formal wear I had on. After some debate as to where the house was located, we finally turned down a side street dotted with festive cars sporting red bows for the occasion. I felt excited at the opportunity to experience a small piece of Chinese culture.

Inside, we were warmly greeted by the bride’s parents who were all to eager to welcome us foreigners into their home. Smiling from ear-to-ear, they ushered us towards the stairs where we began our ascent to the bride’s chamber. She sat calm and collected on her bed as two make-up artists bustled around her like busy bees trying to put the final touches on their handiwork. A TV set at the base of the bed, sat absently creating a drone of indistinguishable noise. The bride looked lovely in an ethereal sort of way. To be white is to be beautiful as the Chinese say. Her pale face greeted us and we sat down to await the arrival of her future husband and his family.

I peered out the window and glimpsed the first set of black sedans arriving. Soon, our chitchatting was interrupted by the rat-a-tat-tat of firecrackers haphazardly thrown in front of the house. Following tradition, the groom announced his arrival by littering the pavement with gunpowder and bits of red paper from the exploding noisemakers. We gathered in the living room to observe the short-lived ceremony. Future in-laws exchanged gifts of fruit as the bride’s parents served rice-ball pudding to the groom’s family in a gesture of respect. Soon, a hush fell over the wedding party signaling that it was time for events to proceed. The bride’s mother and father sat facing the groom’s family. Both groom and bride knelt before her parents before the bride began to speak. Her voice betrayed sadness as she announced her intention to depart from their home forever. Through tears and traditional words of blessing, the bride’s parents entrusted the groom with their beloved daughter. He promised to protect her and be her guiding light while she was away from her family. On the mantelpiece, incense burned in front of a golden statue whose gifts of fruit surround him in his miniature opulence. The gods, too, imparted their blessing on the two lovers.

In a confirmation of the couple’s decision, the wedding party piled into the waiting vehicles in a procession that would lead to the groom’s house. The 15 min. ride was marked by silence after my failed attempt to converse with our chauffer, the groom’s older sister. I glanced out the window towards an isolated factory and the river running past its smokestack as we sped across a reinforced concrete bridge meant to withstand typhoons. Upon arrival at the house, we were made to climb another set of winding stairs. The groom greeted us at the top, where many had already gathered in his bedroom to take pictures with the couple as they hovered over the bridal bed. As token foreigners, or the equivalent of sideshow entertainers, we were thrown into a series of group photos with fingers raised in the all-too popular peace sign. Sitting on the edge of the pure white quilt covering their bed, the shy lovers followed tradition by placing rice balls in each other’s mouth with spindly chopsticks. To the amusement and encouragement of all those around, the couple delicately transferred the tasty morsels between their mouths careful not to linger at each other’s lips. Embarrassed and flushed from the physical contact, the two giggled as pictures were snapped by the onlookers.

An immaculate banquet hall decorated for the special occasion provided an end to the day’s ceremonies. At the entrance, the couple handed out wallet-size professional photos to the guests along with a cheesy love poem, written in almost nonsensical English, printed on brown paper. The photos, another addition to the epitome of romantic, over-the-top Taiwanese weddings, showed the bride and groom in various locations and in various outfits. I picked the one with the bride in an evening gown, with a feather boa slung over her shoulder, and the groom sporting a top had as they leaned against the countertop of an old bar. Not knowing a single soul in the room besides our co-workers, we sat at a round table near the stage. A master of ceremonies welcomed us foreigners before launching into a long discourse involving the families involved in orchestrating the banquet. Finally, the lights dimmed and heads turned as the bride and groom, flanked by candle bearers, entered into the room. Loud, emotional music, complete with smoke rising from vents in the floor, created a dramatic background to their entrance.

After the magnificent display of technology and craft, the food began to arrive. Plates bearing the weight of uncooked slivers of fish and lobster were placed on the rotating table accompanied by sprigs of parsley and small dishes of wasabi sauce. Soon, steaming plates of non-descript meats of varying colors and consistencies followed suit. By the end of the twelve-course meal, I had eaten a large quantity of mystery foods that would hopefully pass easily through my small intestine. Meanwhile, the groom’s family had begun to make their rounds, making sure everyone toasted to the couple’s health with the bottles of whisky that had been provided to each table. Smiling the smile that only drunkards can manage, they held up their class and nodded for us to do the same. “Gambei” (To your health), they exclaimed as the fiery liquid dropped down the hatch.