Taiwan / Weeks 7 & 8: Surprises Big and Small

Surprise: The Big Secret (mee mee in Chinese)
 
Before leaving for Taiwan, I contacted the American School in Kaohsiung. I had the idea to both tell the new stories from Journey to the West that I was hoping to translate in Kaohsiung and to work with the teachers at the American School to identify the Chinese words that were most relevant to the children for the story. A week after arriving, I visited the school and met with the Principal of the Middle School, Gerry Dery, an affable, easy going man from Maine who really cares about children learning, rather than passing tests. He said he retired from teaching when No Child Left Behind was made mandatory. My first surprise was that the school had an American feel, friendly, open, but that the children rather than being American were Asian and the teachers were the Americans, with some Brits and Australians. Taiwanese parents were sending their children to the American School to prepare them for college. I asked Gerry if he knew the story of Monkey King. He said he hadn’t heard of it. We met with the principal of the school. He said it sounded familiar but he didnt know it. The fifth grade teachers, both American women hadn’t heard of Monkey King. The fourth grade men teachers hadn’t heard of it. They all looked at me as if I was a little kooky to be following an unknown story to the opposite end of the world.

 
Gerry suggested I speak for ten minutes with the children in the fifth and fourth grades (I figured that since he’d only read my website he didn’t know if i could relate to the children in his school.) When I mentioned Sun Wu Kong (Monkey King) and Xī Yóu Jì (Journey to the West), the kids’ faces lit up, they clapped and some even lightly stamped their feet. Gerry and the teachers were flabbergasted. They’d never seen the children so elated. They looked at me and at one another. What was this secret story that the kids so loved and they’d never heard of? Gerry and I then went to the fourth grade and my mention of Monkey King brought the same peals of delight and the same puzzlement from the teachers. What was this secret that the kids seemed to love and the teachers, who’d been in Taiwan from one to five years, had no idea of? The teachers were surprised to learn of the story. I was amazed that they had lived in Taiwan for so long and didn’t know the story. The Asian children were/are living in a different universe from the Western teachers and probably this is true throughout the world but who knows how much and what it is we teachers and adults don’t know? So although I had intended to tell the new sections of Monkey King, I decided it was best I start because of the teachers at the beginning. To my third surprise and delight, Gerry Dery was eagerly waiting for me the next week, stayed for the entire telling, and loved Monkey King! A fine example of a principal.

 

Surprise: The Advanced Class
 
Lorenzo(Shah Tien) and I are being asked to read the sentences on the whiteboard. He reads at a steady, comfortable pace. It is 60 degrees. He finds it summery. I take as long with one sentence as he does with ten of them. It is 60 degrees. I am wearing most of the clothes I brought with me. Sixty degrees inside is cold.
 
At last, I understand the value of tests. On my midterm I got a 51. That clearly defines how I’m doing — teetering. It was reassuring to have an assessment that matched my reality. So I spoke to Teacher Fong after getting my results (20 on the orals — I’m still tongue–tied — and 65 on the written part). I explained that I was really doing the best I could but I was treading water and sensing that the rest of the class were swimming and would soon be miles ahead of me. “Well, to be truthful,” she said. “This class is one of the most advanced beginners’ classes I’ve ever taught. The Japanese and the Europeans are going very fast.” (The American and Canadian had dropped out the third week.) “Oy,” I responded. I’m doing my best to add as much Yiddish to the Taiwanese culture as possible. Woody Allen has paved the way. “Oy,” I repeated. “So what do you suggest I do? I can’t go much faster.” She paused. “Do you think I should just take private classes so I don’t hold the group back?”
 
She paused again and then said, “It might be good for you to take private classes twice a week to improve your speaking. But I think it would be good for you to continue in my grammar class three times a week and then take the class over again next semester.” Hmmmm. That was a first: Failing.
 
I was disappointed. I thought I could get at least a 60 so I could continue with my class and especially with Teacher Fong. But I also realized that taking the class again would enable me to move at the pace I’m at. Nevertheless, I bargained, “Well, if you’ll teach the class, I’ll do it.”
Teacher Fong said, “I am thinking of teaching the beginner’s class again.”
I’d never expected that. Surprise! I just assumed our class would continue with our first teacher until the end of eternity. She would teach it? “Excellent,” I said,”so it’s a deal? I take the class again and you will be the teacher.”
“Well, the school can’t promise that you get the teacher you want.” I looked at her as if she’d returned to another reality and said, “What would be the point of my getting a teacher I don’t want?” She laughed. “But what about the tests?” She answered, “You need to take them, but just consider them a game.” Strangely, I’m relieved. I don’t have to swim faster than I can swim. And I’m also excited. Although I can’t move at the pace of the others, I’ve fallen in love with the language and I’m grateful that I have a professor who understands my dedication and wants to help me move at the pace that I can move. I can now breathe and learn. So this Tuesday, after the New Year, my new schedule starts.
 
Surprise: A Storyteller’s Nightmare
 
Happy Chinese New Year!! Everything stops from five days to two weeks for the Chinese New Year. Stores close, hotels triple their prices. My beloved hotel told me I had to leave for four days because they’d been booked for a year in advance. Thinking it would be nice to be warmer, a month ago I called a hotel in Kenting, which is south of Kaohsiung, to book for the Chinese New Year. The man, Scott, who answered the phone said they were entirely booked. We talked a bit more. I explained I was looking for a quiet place because I was working on a book. He was intrigued, checked my website and called me back five minutes later and said, “Wow, I didn’t know you were a big man. Would it be impolite to ask you to consider telling stories at our hotel?”
 
Hmm, that’s the challenge I’ve been wanting — forcing myself to speak Chinese words in public. “Well, that sounds like fun,” I said (knowing I’d be terrified). So somehow he found rooms in the hotel, a different one each night. I put in about 60 hours with my teachers and different Taiwanese friends trying to add about sixty Chinese words to Monkey King, to learn them and to pronounce them correctly. Yep, about an hour a word. We’re talking slow.
 
And then arrived every storyteller’s nightmare, which had not yet happened to me. Not in forty years of storytelling. I’ve never had an audience leave. Triple oy. The first afternoon, about thirty people, mostly adults, including Vivian who drove down specially from Kaohsiung with her children, came and stayed and clapped and seemed to understand. But the next afternoon, the weather was perfect. About ten people came with young children and sat scattered about the hall. First the children left, then the adults. By the last ten minutes there were only four people in the hall. Two mothers, five year old Andrew who had volunteered to turn the titles, and Scott. As I continued the story, I wondered if everyone would leave. What would happen then?
&nsbp;

Even though I knew it was awful to have an audience leave, I felt for them. The sixty words of Chinese which I pronounced fairly well did not balance the weight of the hundreds of words of English. Strangely, I was giving one of my best performances. It was simple, clear, slow. I was very present and very happy. And yet, the children and the adults couldn’t follow. Watching the audience leave was the worst of nightmares; and surprise, it was also fine. I was glad the people were returning to the beautiful outdoors and I was glad I had told a beautiful version of Monkey King. The failure succeeded. We all learned. And handsome Monkey King had a chance to play once again.
 
Surprise: Yum
 
Friends asked me before I left, how will you manage to eat? I’m allergic to soy sauce and soy products. Americans seem to think Taiwanese food is soy. For the Chinese New Year, there is a buffet. And on the buffet, there were my favorite foods: Crab, lotus, seaweed, duck, sweet black beans, honey lamb, tuna, and boiled lettuce (a new favorite).
 
 
 
 
Surprise: The Sea
 
At last. Two days off. I forgot. How very much. I love the sea. The sound. The light. The air. The sand. The shells. The stones. The emptiness. The colors. The movement. The vastness. The no words.