It’s a Wonderful World, Woooo Yaaaaah. November 14, 2007
Posted by gurfheffalump in Being Home.3 comments
This morning, I woke up in Taiwan. By noon, I was eating tonkatsu in a restaurant in Japan. Then, in the span of 8 hours, I saw the sun set and rise again as if I was trying surprise it by going the other direction. And exactly 24 hours from the moment I woke up in Taiwan, I landed in LAX. Same faces in the same streets in the far corners of the world. The beautiful thing is, you can be almost anywhere in the world within 24 hours for the measly price of a bi-weekly paycheck, if your heart so desired.~To the people that have followed along again, thanks for reading! Until next trip.~p.s. special thanks to Nancy, Gangster, and Ginny for showing an ABC around Taipei.
So Purdy November 12, 2007
Posted by gurfheffalump in Taiwan.2 comments
Fucking Taiwan.
Today I sent in my resume for an English tutoring position. Within an hour, I was sitting in the classroom of the English tutoring company filling out an application.
When the lady gets in, I greet her and she asks me: So tell me about yourself.
So I answer.
After that, she says, ‘Ok. Those are all my questions. Do you have any questions for me?’
I’m thinking, ‘What. that’s it, what just happened here?’ Interviews are one of the few times where I go in smiling and prepared to bend over, willing to endure anything they want to give me and thanking them for it after, and this was all they wanted? Didn’t even cop a feel? Feeling like I obviously failed to impress them and had nothing to lose, I ask, ‘So what was your impression?’
She says: ‘To be frank, we are looking for a white person. I’m sorry.’
I’m thinking, it’s a little too late to be frank, isn’t it? You could have been frank: A) When I sent you my resume with the last name LEE on it. B) When I walked through the door of your racist little establishment in all my Asian-ness (I’m pretty damn sure I looked Asian when I did). C) When you came into the room, saving me from answering your fictitious interview question as well as the time it took to answer the stupid generic application that asks all the questions everyone dreads seeing.
I had so much ammo I wanted to unload but I bit my tongue and acted like a gentleman… because she was cute. I guess all of us judge and modify our behavior based on appearances in certain situations. Normally, when I have the right-of-way to act like an asshole, I drive through it like a bat out of hell, but she’s lucky she was cute, that and I’m such a putty-brained horny bastard.
Who would have thought, the place where I would experience racism would be Taiwan, the same place where my Mom and Dad were born and where all my extended family lives. At one point, she even said, ‘ I know your Engrish is perfect.’ Well, no shit my Engrish is perfect; it’s the language I’ve been using for 25 years, the language I dream in, the same language I innately sprout out some of the foulest words in when I get cut off, and the language I should be tutoring her in. But, you know, she was cute n’ all, so I didn’t exactly say that verbatim. Ok ok, I didn’t say any of it at all.
This isn’t the first time I experienced such overt and flagrant racism. When I was in 1st or 2nd grade, I went to a school in Houston. The ethnic make-up of the school was 50% Mexican, 49% Black, and the other percent was me (or that’s how it felt). Little kids can be mean as hell, and I vividly remember when there was a group of kids that ganged up on me, calling me chink and spitting at me. I remember feeling so helpless because there were so many of them and I was alone. Fast forward today. It’s me vs. one cute chick. Even though the variables are a little different the same helpless feeling was there. Not because I was outnumbered but because today, someone was essentially telling me that no matter how hard I tried or what I did, I wouldn’t be able to do something I wanted to do. Being told I was not good enough or undesired (however you look at it) because of something I had no control over is an awful and helpless feeling.
The funny thing is, I wasn’t even serious about getting this job. I figured, while I’m here, I should learn more about the option of teaching English in case things don’t work out when I get back to The States.
About half an hour after the interview, the woman texts me the following message: Jeffrey, I am sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have said that to you. If you really want to teach English in Taiwan, please try -the name of some other English teaching organization-. Good luck!
I immediately responded: While we’re on the topic of appearance, today wasn’t a total waste of time, because at least you were cute.
I wasn’t sure if I was trying to be nice, offensive, or just being a horny bastard again. I think it was probably all three, with a little extra dash of the last reason.
The School of Fishing November 11, 2007
Posted by gurfheffalump in Ideas.1 comment so far
Below is an e-mail sent at a moment of inspiration from a friend’s volunteer trip to India. I know ideas mean nothing if there are no actions.. David is already on board with the idea, anyone else? We can make this work, if we are willing to make it part of our plans.
|
hide details Jul 1 |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||
Yo Kit!
Hi! How are you doing over there!!!??? You are so awesome for what you
are doing. I completely get the picture/writing about what you see
dilemma. But I truly believe you are not exploiting them if you wrote
about it because you are shedding light on the lives of people who
need help, and in doing so you are creating awareness and
understanding. Without people that share their experiences, no matter
how poor and heartbreaking, it wouldn’t be possible for the word to
spread for a particular cause. I think awareness and understanding is
probably the single biggest difference one can make. That’s why you
are awesome.
I was actually inspired by what you are doing there. I was picturing
you working at the slums and what it must be like; shacks and huts
made of garbage, limited opportunities, and cute little children
without the bare necessities. This also made me think of Cambodia, and
how cute the children were, but how limited real opportunities
existed. Then, I started to comb through blogs and travel threads,
reading about how there are so many gappers and people who are going
on a holiday that want to make a difference. They want to volunteer
their time, people who have whole and good intentions. But the problem
many of them have is that many organizations charge these people a lot
of money, thousands of dollars, just to volunteer their time.
So that gave me the idea: The School of Fishing. We can set up a school.
Many of the travelers who want to go on a working holiday or gap year
are from English speaking countries. We will take these travelers, and
for whatever time they can volunteer, we can set up a small school and
they can stay at the school for free. The goal of this school is to
give the travelers who want to do more than just skim the surface of a
culture by giving back to the community to teach the children English.
They will be a part of a community through volunteering their time by
teaching English. But not just teach them English, but teach them how
to be tour guides to other tourists around their city.
For a small fee, the children can be tour guides, speak of monuments
and tourist attractions, and a little bit about their lives. The idea
is to give these children a way to sustain themselves and at the same
time providing a skill that may lead to other opportunities later
through the vehicle of learning English and working as tour guides.
Many of the children I saw in Cambodia were so smart and cute, but I
think the opportunities were so limited there and that’s why there
were so many children begging, stealing, and later on prostituting
themselves. Hopefully, the idea of the school will help prevent some
of that from happening.
I think the tourist that hire these children to be their part time
tour guides will also get an enriching and educational experience by
having a glimpse of how life really is like for a child in (fill in
the blank with a developing country). I think this can potentially be
a win win for everyone, because we are not charging the travelers
thousands of dollars to volunteer but providing them with a chance to
make a difference still, providing the local children an opportunity
to better their lives, and providing the tourists a more enriching
experience.
Of course, there’s more to think through with money and figures and
ultimately finding a way to help sustain an organization such as this.
Maybe we can ask for donations from the travelers who come work with
us, maybe we can get grants, I don’t know. But I believe this can be
done.
When I had this idea, I immediately told Mike about it, but I also
wanted to tell you because I feel you totally get this, and you can
probably contribute another perspective from all your experiences
abroad. The School of Fishing.
What do you think?
Let me know how are you are doing Kit!
Jeff.
The Local Chicken November 8, 2007
Posted by gurfheffalump in Taiwan.1 comment so far
I woke up today feeling like a pig who’s been wallowing in his mud puddle for the last 5 hours; I could still taste my last cigarette in my breath from the night before, I had the crusty eyes, drool on the side of my face, my pants were half way down my ass, and my first though was: where the hell am I?
It turns out, I’m in Taiwan again and it’s great. However, I’ve always believed that Taiwan is a place where you need a local’s point of view to really be able to appreciate it. You need a friend, family members, or some kind of connection to the locals to really appreciate it for what it is, to really see it for what it is, because once you do, a whole new world will appear, a new fantastic point of view, a thousand dazzling things to see, every turn’s a surprise, and you’ll feel like you’re on a magic carpet ride. You know, like the song.
No but seriously, you’ll find the best little hole in the walls restaurants to eat at, the shittiest but most comfortable little bars to drink at, and if you’re really lucky (or unlucky), you’ll witness first hand the abilities of the locals in their favorite past time: Karaoke!
Tomorrow I’ve decided I’m going to have lunch at this little food kart that serves the best fried chicken in the world. IN THE WORLD, literally. I’ve thought about it so much and for so long, it seems the memory of the chicken is better than the memory of your fondest sexual experiences and just as good as the ones you still masturbate to. My memory of it goes something like an Olive Garden commercial, except it’s a piece of juicy, tender, tasty fried chicken in a paper bag and it’s in slow motion, and oddly it’s with no sound. You may think I’m exaggerating but I wish I could bring a few pieces back and prove it to you. Nancy, if you’re reading this, I need to take you to this place. To me, it’s climax served in a paper bag.
Proud November 4, 2007
Posted by gurfheffalump in Thailand.3 comments
David just left for the airport to go back to Japan. Our last meal in Thailand was McDonalds and I gorged myself on a big mac, large fries, a double fish fillet (they have those here), 6 piece chicken nuggets, and the McScraps of David’s meal. Battling food coma and the grease thats now seeping into my coronary arteries, I’ll attempt to gather myself and squeeze out a short entry.
I think one of the biggest things on my mind right now is the issue of pride. I’m not talking about pride in the Seven Sins context, I’m talking about pride for one’s country and for what the people in it stand for. Right off the bat I’ll say that I’ve never had this sort of pride in where I’m from. In fact, the more I learn and the more I see, the more turned off I am of where I’m from.
But when I travel, I see so many people glow when they get the chance to explain where they are from and what their culture is like. The Thai people absolutely love their King, and I know they don’t love him because they have to. Being here, you can’t help but feel that their love is true and unartifical. I have no idea what it’s like to love a government official or a public figure from my country, not because I’m incapable of it, but I don’t believe there are any figures in our public arena to love and be proud of.
When I come across someone who is genuinely proud of where they are from, I think that’s the coolest thing in the world. When a person’s eyes light up telling you about a certain aspect of their culture, or how they can’t help but speak with a little more gravity when they tell you how friendly their countrymen are, those converastions always catch me a little envious because I’ve always wanted to brag about the place I’m from and what it’s about.
