When the “Aboksu” blog began sometime in 2016, I had no idea what to put here. It was mainly a place for bloviation. Eventually, when I took up weekly preaching in English, it became a “sermon dump” (that also, was likely bloviation). In 2019, having been retired for 9 months, it became the place where I processed the progression identity change. Having left Taiwan and entered America, I needed a vent. It took a few months for me to find my feet and connect the life I’d enjoyed in Taiwan with the life I was learning in America. Though that learning process continues, it’s no longer my major occupation.
“Aboksu” will continue as a blog, but without the subtitle. If you have subscribed to it in the past for Taiwan content or stories from my past there, you might take this opportunity to exit. Contents will shift in a “liturgical” direction. Since late last year I’ve been writing church music. When I told some friends about that recently, I had to answer the question, “How will you distribute it?” I could only say, “I don’t know.”
In the past month or so, I’ve posted some “psalm mangling” efforts here. I had noplace else to go with them. Today, July 23rd, I resume daily posting. There are enough “new” things that I can fill for the rest of 2020 and go into 2021. Each comes with an audio link for you to click, and you can sing along. Any who have joined for “leaving Taiwan: learning America” fare might well respond, “Enough, already.” I promise, I’ll understand.
Peace to all. Aboksu
Click on the link after the word “audio” and sing along.
You’re the Judge
You’re the judge. Do – right and fair, pro – tect your heart and – hands each day.
Wicked people – lie from birth, they – wander and they – go astray
Some are poison, – some don’t listen. – Arguments their – minds don’t sway.
God knows how to – deal with them. They’re – not your business – anyway.
—–
Let them be like: – grass that’s trodden; – like a snail dis – solved to slime;
Like the stuff scrubbed – from the bottom – of a pot en – cased in grime.
When the righteous – see God’s justice, – satisfaction – is sublime.
Folks will say that – there’s reward, so – wait for God to – act in time.
In the 1980s I visited the site where Taiwan’s 3rd nuclear power station was being installed. An engineer from the Bechtel Corporation, which built it, told me of a cross-cultural engineering issue. He had once discovered something that needed a small adjustment, easily fixed by turning a screw. His Taiwanese counterpart advocated for calling a technician. The American had a screwdriver in his pocket, which he used to solve the problem. The difference, he said, was that during the 1980s in Taiwan, engineers “knew”, and technicians “did.”
(Photo Courtesy of 3-Sixty.org)
In the early 90s, while involved in campus evangelistic work at a technical college, I heard roughly the same thing. In the group I hung with there were a couple guys finishing their Associate degrees. They had been at the college for 5 years, starting at 10th grade. In order to graduate in electrical engineering, they were required to actually make something electrical. They were really sweating the requirement. The same college had a 2-year program for graduates of vocational high schools. “Those guys,” I was told, “can do ANYTHING.”
After 5 years in recently constructed housing, we spent more than 30 in places that had been put up in the 50s and 60s. Opportunities for fixing stuff abounded. I slowly acquired a motley collection of hand tools. In the fall of 2017 I created a large artwork for hanging in a library stairwell. Mr. Tan Chu-seng, from the college’s administrative office assisted me, making a choice comment or two about the state of my tools as we worked together. As a result, when I packed up to leave, I passed them ALL to him. When we arrived in America in 2018 I had not even a screwdriver to my name.
I’m blessed by a non-profit tool library in the neighborhood where I reside. Having paid a membership fee, I can get things that I’d ordinarily need once and then leave to gather dust and rust in the basement. Ignoring the tool library once or twice, I found myself purchasing a power drill and circular saw, but had I been wiser I wouldn’t have done so. My collection of bargain bin screwdrivers and pliers has outgrown my tool box, but at least it doesn’t include the table saw, angle grinder or rotary sander.
Because of management and staffing issues, the tool library has operated “by appointment only” for the past 18 months. I volunteered to operate it for “regular hours”, which commenced a couple days ago with a “soft opening”. In mid-August, after making needed adjustments, we’ll run a GRAND Opening. I’m thinking balloons and pony rides.
Hanging around there, killing time when there are no borrowers on site, I’ve discovered far more resources than I ever noticed while scrolling through the online catalog. My lust for tools might actually be assuaged. I didn’t realize that I also have a pent-up demand for “doing things”. I guess I might have a Taiwanese technician’s heart after all.
David Alexander borrows tools and “does stuff” in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.
Throughout 39 years of life in Taiwan, I had trouble finding shoes. My feet are large in America, and when compared to those of most Taiwanese men are even larger . After relocating to Tainan City in 2008 I found a place with one sign for “the latest styles of 2009” (still there in 2018) and another advertising “big foot shoes.”
Preparing to retire to the land of big shoes two years ago, I wore my trainers to death. A pair of ”Sunday shoes” on my feet made the trip with me. Soon after arrival I purchased walking shoes, later a cheap pair that even I came to think of as ugly. When those began to look like what I’d left behind in Taiwan, I searched on Ebay and found replacements, buying identical pairs. Only once did I grab two lefts when it was time to go out the door.
Two months ago, the sole of one shoe split. I went back to ebay, repeating what I’d done last year. When told that my order wouldn’t arrive until June 19, I didn’t cancel, but hoped. June is now in the past; the shoes are still “in the wind.” On July 1st both remaining shoes split across their soles. Forced to go into a store; I chose a self-service emporium.
The store’s products are better than those on Ebay. The service is faster, too. But checkout bugged me. Had I gone to “a big store with everything” for cans of beans, a BBQ grill and oil for the car along with the shoes, checkout would have been “beep, beep, beep, here’s your receipt.” The shoe store was not so simple. Apparently it gathers customer data for onward sale to advertisers. I was required to provide a phone number and an email address (in case of a return). The email had to be repeated 3 times because I still use a Taiwanese ISP.
Now back at home with new shoes and socks, I find myself with a bad attitude as well. Next time a clerk at a cash register asks for my telephone number or email address before letting me buy something, I’ll respond, “Due to conditions, I’d rather the County Sheriff didn’t know.” I’ll still be ready to use a credit card, but if asked to provide information, I’ll pay in cash… in quarters.
David Alexander grumbles a lot in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.
Decades ago, in conversation with foreign friends in Taiwan and on the cusp of taking a sabbatical, we were asked where we would be. Replying, “Holland, Michigan” we heard an expression of delight. Among the friends in the conversation was a woman who had once visited relatives here. She mentioned how well kept everyone’s yards were.
At that time I didn’t know that I’d eventually retire in this town, but the decision on “where” and date of “the big move” drew near, her comment weighed heavily upon me. I’ve never gardened, and yard-work was a thing that I’d hated in adolescence. I imagined frowns from neighbors and citations from yard police. After two years in residence, I’m happy to say that I was wrong.
We walk a lot; it is our exercise. Our neighborhood is mixed working-class and middle-class. Most of the homes were built before 1940. When we tire of walking these streets we head to a neighborhood that has a 50s / 60s vibe. Yards around those homes may have inspired the comment made by our friend in Taiwan.
Trash in this city is picked up weekly, different neighborhoods on different days. The city provides a wheeled trolley for garbage and yellow bags for recycling. The system has its quirks, but it works well enough for us. We keep our house’s trolley in the garage and roll it out to the street on Monday evening for Tuesday morning pickup. On a recent morning’s walk I admired houses, lawns and flower beds as we went along a pleasant street. It didn’t take long, though, to notice several houses in a row, along both sides of the street, where a prominent part of outdoor decor was that residence’s blue trash trolley. Most stood near to a side door or a garage, convenient both for filling and for wheeling to the street on the appointed day. But the sight of them detracted from the house’s “curb appeal.” I’m guessing that those garages must be full of boats and SUVs, leaving no room for the trash.
As for me and my house: the shrubs are overgrown and the lawn is weedy, but unless you come down the street between Monday evening and Tuesday noon, you’d think us to be trashless.
David Alexander is learning to be American in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.
Aboksu 