Blasted mozzies! As soon as the temperature heats up even slightly, I'm reminded of how these minute, six-legged creatures - and their incessant buzzing in my ears (nothing, aside from a depleted amte stock, makes me cringe more) and their lump leaving itchy bites on any uncovered section of my body - continue to be the bane of my existence. I'm just hoping for some sweet karmic revenge in the next lifetime. That is how karma works, isn't it? All the suffering inflicted upon you in this life, you get to do back, with interest, in the next one? Hope so coz I've been banking on it with the mosquito in mind...
It's very late or very early, depending on which end of the age spectrum you find yourself. The clock reads 04:14. Darkness still pervades the outside world. The restless nite owls are reaching the climax of their days while the early risers are eagerly beginning theirs. I am neither, or sometimes both; but I happen to be up this time not only because of a mozzie but also due to a rare case of insomnia.
However, and this is the part that strikes me as odd, the lack of sleep isn't driving me crazy the way sleeplessness normally afflicts one. My brain just seems to be alert, and I feel well rested - despite not having properly slept. Can't quite figure it out. I'm not in a worried state of mind. I didn't have any caffeine beyond a morning mate. I even went for a 2 hour bike ride this afternoon where I exerted myself to the fullest so I'm not exercise-deprived either. And yet despite frequent lion-like yawns and seeming fatigue of the body, my brain is as zingy as if it were post-mate. And even with the covers brought right up to the chin (I'll say it again, sub-tropical my ass!), the ever-persistent mosquito, not so much desperate for survival as plain greedy, has managed to pierce into my cheek (twice) and my neck. Enough's enough, you win you blood-sucking little beast!
And so, I take advantage of the special serenity of the dawn of a new day to get down to my long overdue letter.
I'm writing to you from my new home. After over a year of visiting this space I used to call my girlfriend's, I'm slowly getting used to the idea of not calling it “Michele's place” anymore, but, mine too. I moved in at the beginning of March. Not a trying move considering my former house and this apartment are a mere 5 minute walk away from each other. And because of my minimal possessions and lack of anything too big or heavy (i.e fridge, stove, bed etc), I didn't have to hire the infamous blue truck movers (whose little trucks have more of a reputation for bad driving than for moving). Yep, I could feel myself turning Taiwanese as I piled a celiling fan here and a bookcase there onto Michele's tiny hair-dryer-for-an-engine of a scooter. A few equilibrium-challenged zings to and fro pretty much did the trick. One classic trip had me on the back dragging my mammoth suitcase as Michele piloted us slowly through the tiny, zig zaggy streets. The noise from the wheels dragging kept our ears ringing for the rest of the night. I also made several trips on foot, walking through the park and its constants of old folks cold chillin' on the concrete ledge staring - and occasionally glaring - at the atoga while the young kids playing on the jungle gym threw out their "hallo"s each time I passed carrying some different item, be it a kitchen rack, a chair, or a patio umbrella. South Central Tainan baby, keepin' it real in the hood!
Truth be known, Michele and I considered looking for a new place and even went as far as checking a few out. But in the end, the proximity to both the Trees (a small but rare forest next to a farmer's field I've often cited) and the canal (with a stench I've surprisingly grown accustomed to – truly, we humans can get used to anything!), a rare vehicle-free zone close to a giant sports park and a beautiful temple, were the best thing for little Flea. Flea is the impressive-eared street dog Michele nearly hit then decided to rescue two years ago. When she's not rolling in dung or dead animals, she's the cutest thing since Mochichi! I'm already very much enjoying the routine of taking her to the Trees in the morning and then walking off dinner down by the canal at night. It's also pretty special to have someone extremely overjoyed - and genuinely at that – greet me every time I come home. Now if only Flea would take after Michele's behaviour! Yes, the unconditional love and loyalty of the pet dog cannot be overrated – even when she follows my every step around the apt as if her existence depended upon mine. I always wanted a pet shadow.
Getting out of the old place wasn't as smooth as we had envisioned. The landlords, Dr. Tu and his wife, were far nit pickier than I suspected they would be. I knew there was an element of anal retentiveness to their collective personality but when there is no room for compromise or even discussion it can be frustrating. "She's the boss" I can still hear Dr. Tu say with a nervous laugh after his wife would groan out yet another complaint about a missing light bulb or huff and puff because the blinds had a slight bend on one of the layers. Basically, they expected the house to be in the exact same state it was in when it was rented out to us two years ago. And I mean exactly. Admittedly, our lack of regular up keep came back to haunt us but to expect a house to not go through any changes in two years seems a little unreasonable to me. In fact, it downright goes against the laws of physics and Dr. Tu is a man of science...
And even the home improvements we thought we had made came back to bite us in the ass. We replaced the intensely bright living room fixture with a ceiling fan during a moment of heat-induced insanity during our first summer. Instead of simply buying a lamp so as to have light and a fan for the taxing summer ahead, we were required to hire a technician to take it down and put in a new light fixture. We also put in many hours of sweeping, mopping, moving and tossing. Junk piled up outside the house. It didn't take longer than the first item to be carried out before passer-bys were eyeing the unwanted goods and applying on those squeaky brakes in order to get a good look, raid gleeming in their eyes. Dave commented that the locals were a little like the old Cretan ladies scavenging Madame Hortense's place. In the end, it all got done - as it always does - and we got most our deposit back.
Going to the electric and water company proved to be an intersting experience too. Because Dan was back in England this whole time for a funeral (RIP Grandpa), I was by default the chosen one to perform the task of telling them we had moved out due to my fluency in Chinese. Yeah right, as if terms like “meter”, “gauge” and “pay” are even in my vocabulary. And even if I knew those words, there was always the likeliness of getting the tones messed up and end up saying “lizard”, doorknob” and murder” instead.
The first time I went to the water company, it was dark and I wondered whether they were even open. When the fantom appeared out of the corner of the caged payout area, I tried to tell her we wer moving. She gave me a long-winded response, in a mix of Taiwanese and Chinese characteristic of Tainan, of which I understood almost nothing.Thankfully, another customer spoke English and was able to convey her monologue. When I went back the next afternoon, I had to wonder if I was in the same place. It was lit up like a tv set and there was a huge line-up snaking almost out of the building. A far cry from the ghost town from the previous day. Maybe there was some sort of mass refund I hadn't heard about. I joined the cue. Then I realized that it must be because the bills must had been sent out. Bad timing for this lost, little foreigner. Luckily, I ran into a lady I coincidentally knew from a vegetarian restaurant I often go to and she helped find the right desk. After lots of painfully bad attempts at using my Chinese, much shrugging, waiting and uncomfortable laughter following a language stalemate, I was finally shown a number I had to equal in cash. Done.
Sometimes frustrating but often amusing, it remains a daily challenge to live in Tainan.
So far I have been in my new place for about 2 weeks. The apartment has been well-lived in by transitional-minded foreigners for about 5 years now. That translates to lots of accumulated junk. We've got our share of gutting and cleaning ahead of us – a challenge we're ready for. We can both see what we want to do with the place, the vision is there, so it's up to how much time we are allotted by Father Time to do it. The way it's looking as far as Michele's schedule is concerned, the place should be ship-shape sometime in the fall of 2008. She's a busy one these days. No matter, baby steps, right?. Baby steps. Baby steps. (What About Bob? anyone?)
Last weekend was a positive start though as we spontaneously braved cold and rainy weather and an even more severe language barrier (once again) to hit the B & Q (AKA Canadian Tire/Walmart) to buy some paint. This time we had five employees corner us in the aisle. One poor guy, probably from the car part section, got dragged into it because he spoke a few English words. I could see the regret in his eyes for having bragged about his English skills on his resume. After a while, they stopped even talking to us and formed a huddle of their own while Michele and I pretended to look at the different styles of brushes on sale. Somehow we succeeded on our mission and spent the weekend painting what will be our chill out/stretching/guest room. We plan to put tatami mats down with loads of cushions from Bali, a Thai triangle cushion (the bomb for reading) a low table and some lamps for just hanging out. I've been wanting a space like this for a while now.
I might as well describe the rest of the apartment while were on the topic. It is a two-floored place situated on the 9th floor (though is says '10' on the elevator button because the '4' is missing. The '4',of course, is an evil number in Chinese superstition and their equivalent to unlucky 13.) in the "Datung World" complex. The lobby is beautifully adorned with a Japanese garden, amazing rocks and minerals and a lovely pond with all sorts of exotic marine life. Not! It's about as drab as a lobby can be with ugly, antiquitous Christmas and Chinese New Year decorations and a few fake plants. You'd think the guards might spend a little time doing it up since they spend 8 hours just sitting around but apparently it isn't in the job description. However, since the building goes no higher than the 10th floor, I guess that means we live in the penthouse. "You heard me right Weezy, we got ourselves the penthouse", I can just hear George Jefferson exclaim.
The bottom floor consists of the aforementioned soon to be dubbed the Cafe Del Merde chill out room plus another room, yet to be gutted, painted and transformed into an arts room for Michele and the numerous projects she's got bubbling and simmering in her soul but ain't got the time for right now. There is a decent-sized kitchen that spreads out into the salon where we watch ancient episodes of Seinfeld and SCTV on dvd. From the entrance, if you don't go straight into the appartment, you can take the stairs up to the this very little enclave where the computer is set up. Take a left from there and enter the sizeable master bedroom and adjacent bathroom. Outside our room, you can step out onto a massive, tiled rooftop deck which we plan to clean up and maybe set up a garden. After a typhoon, you can see mountains!
Not a bad pad for roughly 350$ Canadian per month, n'est-ce pas?
I'm very happy and excited with this new beginning. Good habits that I've felt I've needed in my life have already started forming, like cooking and cleaning for example. And most of all, I'm living with the girl who brings daily sunshine in my life. Sure, it was a little weird at first but every change for me is strange at first. But then I settle in and get my groove on and it's all good. It's my pattern.
I want to end on that high-pitched note so let's revert back to the mosquito. When I was travelling through Thailand several years ago, I met this hippie-ish traveller who acted as though he had become enlightened because he refused to kill mosquitoes. He said to even hurt these pesty creatures was equal to murder in karmic terms. Another friend who was there jeered and scoffed when he heard this; I was sympathetic to his ideology but also wondered whether he was taking it a bit far. Now I regret not standing up for him. Sure I slagged them blood-sukers to start this off, but that's exactly where the lesson lies. Their annoyance is their lesson just like every bad driver, every tragedy and every perceived mistake you encounter out there. He started to think with his heart and that's what made him see the world in a different light. It's not a better light, but it is a more appropriate, eventually leading to a higher consciousness; a higher form of evolution beyond petty human concerns. Hold on a second, there's something nibbling at my ankles, making it hard for me to type. Slap! Got it! Shit, no killing.
Baby steps, baby steps, baby steps...
oj
