Lake or River?

There are several words in Taiwanese for the geographical feature known in English as a Lake. One must be careful in learning which to use with which body of water when there. They seem to vary with whether one is referring to a wide spot in a river, a low spot in the ground, or a valley that has been artificially dammed off to create a water storage site. 

Last week we learned that the difference between a river and a lake can also reside in the mind of the beholder. We spent a night in a little river edge cabin in Southeastern Ohio with friends from North Carolina. Actually, they are both from New York City, but haven’t lived there for decades. We had some stuff of theirs, shipped to us from Taiwan when we retired, that was for them. We met half-way to make the transfer.

Our friend, Ruth, made the arrangements for the place where we stayed, and she did exceedingly well. It was cozy, comfortable and beautiful. The bed was comfortable, and the scenery, including what Ruth referred to as “the lake”, was breathtakingly beautiful. We are privileged to be numbered among her friends, because she is so creative in finding places to enjoy. 

It became a running joke, though, to remind her that the water right outside the window was a river. Admittedly, it was very still, almost impossible to detect any movement in, but it wasn’t all that wide, nor did it appear to be deep. Nevertheless, the idea didn’t make it through to her.

I’m that way, too. Once I’ve named something, it’s hard to think of it as anything else than what I’ve called it.  Taiwan will ever and always be to me an independent nation. 

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan. 

Found

During my final ten years in Taiwan I poked around various forgotten places. Nothing fancy, exotic or dangerous, just “forgotten. For example, I taught at the southern branch campus of a university up north.  As Taiwan’s population aged and the number of university students dropped, some schools closed, and the number at the branch campus fell off. Eventually the main campus began to bring entire departments “back home” or to close entire programs. Once on my way out of the building where my classes met I encountered a pile of materials that appeared to be on their way to the trash. From that pile I extracted a large stack of heavy paper that went through my office printer quite handily. (No more paper jams.)  I also scarfed up a large piece of cloth perfect for “green screening” videos. The most wonderful prize was a discarded FAX machine with half a roll of paper still in it. Fax, of course, was a forgotten technology, but the machine enabled me to send “compliance compatible” documents to our financial advisor in North America from home. I no longer had to run out to 7-Eleven to do so. 

In a storage room at Tainan Theological College I found the college bell, which had never been installed in the chapel tower. It was on a frame that facilitated ringing it. I told someone official, who arranged for it to be relocated to a place where it was once again usable. Few people had the imagination either to use it or the chutzpah to consider themselves permitted to use it. 

Poking around a back room here at home uncovered something I had considered lost. We have a separate garage to which a previous owner added a storage annex. That’s where we put boxes we unpacked when we moved in. It’s also where I put the storm windows when I took them down last spring.  While taking them down, I noticed that one had never been installed, and guessed that I’d have to acquire or build a replacement before winter. When the weather recently turned cool I set about installing what I’d taken down several months ago. That’s when I discovered the missing one. It had been in the garage all the time. It’s a good thing that I don’t need to build one myself. I took a closer look while washing the ones I was installing and discovered that, though like that FAX machine they’re a forgotten technology, they are no small feat of engineering. I may be able to cut a board and swing a hammer, but making a storm window is beyond me. 

In January we’re going home to Taiwan for two weeks, during which time we’ll vote for president there. Maybe during some of the other days I’ll poke around sheds and storage rooms, just to see what emerges. 

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Sometimes a Moderator is Needed

For a year or so during the 90s in Taiwan I was appointed to the Youth Ministries committee of the local association of churches to which I belonged. I was in my 40s, no longer anywhere NEAR young. The committee was supervisory rather than operational. Several  enthusiastic volunteers in their 20s ran activities for teenagers. Kids from different churches aggregated into enough mass to have interesting recreational and religious activities that, if left to churches to do alone would never happen. 

At one meeting there was a review of a very successful weekend trip. It involved a trip on a branch rail line to a recreational area where, in addition to some sort of spiritual activity, the day was spent sightseeing on rented bicycles. Return was by train to the main line with a transfer to home. But, something had gone slightly wrong. The train up the mountain had 6 cars, but the one down had only 3, so people were crowded. It seemed to me to be a small thing, to be noted in the after-action report for “special attention” next time. BUT, the person who had been responsible for scheduling had to go on ad infinitum to detail why it wasn’t his fault, and the moderator of the meeting couldn’t bring the discussion to a close. I think something else was going on. I just didn’t pick up on it. 

This morning here in Holland, MI my Wednesday breakfast group found about 15 people around the table. We were finishing up last week’s discussion about the “eye for an eye” standard of justice. The book we use to start our discussions pointed direction of “non-retaliation” for sin and crime on the one hand and “punishment proportional to the crime” on the other. We got WAY off track. 

One of the brothers steered things to how well thought of the graduates of a local  (including his granddaughter) are in the job market. Once he started there, he couldn’t let go. Like the guy in Taiwan who was responsible for the train tickets, there was no way to get out of the discussion. Thankfully, at 7:30 it was time to stop, clean up the dishes, and go home. 

Sometimes discussions need moderators. The Taiwan committee had one, who wouldn’t do his (or her) job. The group this morning only had a clock, for which I’m thankful.

 

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan. 

Eating Like a Hobbit

Among the many groups in which I participated during our final years in Taiwan was one that met about every third week. It was a function of the spiritual life committee of the student association at Tainan Theological College and was called Holy Family. The intent was to mix people from the various classes and programs in small group settings (a typical family had 7 or 8) and to relate “spiritually”.  One member of the group was the leader, responsible to get people together and to see to it that something programmatic happened. Because the schedule called for a beginning during breakfast time and ending in time for first period class, oftentimes breakfast was consumed while things went on. Students can sleep until the last minute. But I was an old guy who regularly rose at 6, had breakfast in the kitchen, exercised, showered and then went to work. On those mornings, joining the group meant having “second breakfast”, a habit of the Hobbits in The Lord of the Rings.

My final attendance at Holy Family was in May of 2018. But second breakfast has followed me into retirement. Several years ago a group of 6 people related through Char’s father began getting together for breakfast once a month.  When we would be in Michigan, we were yoked in as the “next generation”. Now three of the charter members have gone on to glory, and two of those remaining have hearing loss problems that to make conversation in a noisy restaurant difficult, so they don’t attend. There are now 7 regular attenders: Six are “next generation” and one is a charter member. We gather at a nearby restaurant once a month for breakfast…  at 9AM. But I’m still the same old guy who rises nearer to 6. Breakfast is almost the first thing on my agenda most mornings. 

It’s Hobbit time in Holland today.

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Software Shuffle

The cyber revolution happened while we were in Taiwan. In about 1988 the office where we worked got a computer. It had those big floppy disks and no hard drive. Then we moved to one with a hard drive, and the number moved from 286 to 386. Eventually we got one (or the other) at home, but I was fascinated with the hardware more than the software, so we really didn’t do much with it but type. We moved along at a rather slow pace, always behind by a Windows system or 2. 

Software in Taiwan in the 90s was often pirated, especially when one purchased a computer at a hole-in-the-wall shop. People became accustomed to sharing floppy disks, CD ROM disks and other files. When I moved to the Taiwan Church Press in the year 2000, I’ve no idea where the software came from. That’s when I learned search skills, on Netscape!  4 years later, at Tainan Theological College, I used whatever was on the machine they issued me. 

As time passed, the school hired better and better (and more ethical) IT administrators. The guy who took over in 2016 cleaned out everyone’s files and purchased a company subscription to Windows Office 365. I thoroughly enjoyed that. Anything I needed to do that was “up to date” happened in the office. At home it was a different story. We’d pretty much moved out of pirated stuff, and were using Open Office and other free software. It was adequate.

 Retired now, the subscription to Office 365 is no longer part of my life. That hasn’t been a problem until recently, when I decided to try self-publishing some of my old stuff as e- books. The first one was a disaster. For the second one, I’ve shifted all sorts of stuff and learned a lot of new skills, some of which are easier if one has Microsoft Office (at least, that’s what the instructions indicate). Happily, we live only a few blocks from the library. I walked over there one evening last week and learned a few things (but forgot to save the resulting file). This morning I was back. Things were even faster, and I put together what will likely be my first REAL e-book. I uploaded it this afternoon, and will let it cook for a few days before beginning to advertise. 

Maybe I’ll be spending more time at the library this winter, or maybe I’ll buy Microsoft Office. I liked Taiwan better than I like here. (I’ll get over that.) I’m happier here, though, knowing that at least in terms of the software I use, I’ve gone legit.

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Miracle Material

For 21 of the 36 continuous years during which Taiwan was our home, we drove the same car, a 1995 Toyota purchased used in 1997. By the time we were through with it the only thing that mattered to us was that the air conditioner functioned well. The tires may have been worth more than the entire rest of the car. 

Prior to six months’ of sojourn in Michigan that began in February of 2016, our son kindly did the job of car search for us, and landed us a Made in Kentucky Honda Civic of the 2008 model year. We put it into storage when we departed in August that year, and got it back no worse for wear when we retired in 2018. We still drive it.

Used cars don’t necessarily deteriorate while in storage. This one didn’t. But its age began to show more as we drove it more. During the first year of our retirement a lot of deferred maintenance issues were corrected. These included an air bag replacement (paid for by Honda since it was their fault), brakes all around, air conditioner repair and other stuff. 

The front wheel wells and shielding under the engine are made of plastic (maybe it’s nylon). These pieces are held in place by some fasteners that had come loose and fallen out. One day when going through a pothole we lost an entire fender liner! I purchased replacements and installed them, as our son advised, using zip ties. His advice was good, my technique was poor, but eventually we became able to make sharp turns without the tires rubbing on anything. The shielding under the engine started to come loose in December, which is NOT a convenient time to crawl under the car and tie things up, but I did so. 

Lately the plastic has been making funny flapping noises when we drive at speeds greater than 55 miles per hour. I revisited the site and tightened some things up. While “down there” I noticed that the front “bumper” was also cracked (it’s not much of a bumper, being made of some other kind of plastic). I decided to do something about the cracked pieces, just in the event that they have something to do with the noise.  The Miracle material, duct tape, came into play. 

Now our car looks like many others in this region. We really don’t live in Taiwan anymore.

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Word Roots

When I was in the third grade and learned how to use a dictionary, alphabetical order was essential. In my 30s, learning how to use a Chinese dictionary, word roots were basic to the process. Chinese characters are built out of standard little bits. The computer I use has a keyboard on which several of these bits reside next to the ABCs. With the push of a couple keys it can be shifted to typing in Chinese. However, I never learned that skill. I’m stuck in the “look it up in the dictionary” phase of literacy. The character here, for example, means “to pick crops”. The black bit at the left side means “hand”. Picking crops in something initially done by hand.

But bits of words intrigue me. One of the exercises I did in front of students when teaching English in Taiwan was to take apart words on the blackboard to show how the pieces could lead a reader to understand a word that he or she had never before seen. Take “inflection”, for example.  The final bit, “..tion” indicates to us that this word is a noun. The middle bit “..flec..” has something to do with bending (you can see it in “flexible”). The first bit “in..” can mean many things. But put it with “.flection” and it has something to do with bending something. In this case, about how one bends a pronunciation. 

Musing thusly brought me to words that are made of bits that don’t exist if only partially presented. Take “disappointed”, for example. If I am disappointed by a sermon in church or a concert at a stadium, was I initially “appointed”?  If I’m disgusted by the sight of a dead deer next to the interstate highway, was I originally “gusted” by the vistas around the bend? When traveling along a highway and if directed onto detour, was I originally on a tour?

When we resided in Taiwan, we had a “shoes off” house, as did our friends and neighbors. When we relocated to Michigan we became more casual about wearing shoes inside. It just wasn’t as convenient to take them off or put them back on at the doors. But a couple of months ago we returned to our earlier practice. We’d recently read an article about the kinds of things that one brings indoors on the soles of one’s shoes. Besides dust and mud, there was mention of “fecal bacteria”. We found that convincing.

The root “fec..” gets built upon to create words like “feces”, “fecal” and “defecate”. So, if “defecation” can occur, how about “infecation”? (There are dogs that practice it.). And if something can be “fecal”, can it be “fecated”.  What, after all, is the process of “fecation”? Is it somehow the inverse side of digestion? Can it be said of certain politicians that they are thoroughly fecated? Maybe it comes out when they tweet.

Inquiring minds want to know. 

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Due to Conditions

When Taiwan was home, only a year or so ago, we would come into October wondering when we  might be able to get along without an air conditioner droning in some corner of the room. We’d slide from air conditioner plus fan somewhere late in the month, and maybe from fan to open window around the beginning of December. Sometime in January we’d begin to close the windows for a month or so.

But we’re not in Taiwan any longer. The slide from summer into autumn was accompanied first by very late sunrises, and now by cooler weather. We turned on the furnace last week to take the chill out of the house. But, as it will in the autumn, the weather has brightened up a bit. Though the furnace remains on, we decided to take advantage of the sunlight and get out of the house some. 

This morning we went to a nearby wetlands preserve that promises walking paths, biking trails, and pleasant vistas. It was only about 10 minutes’ drive away. We followed a map and, off of a country road, entered the parking lot where we were greeted by several signs. One mentioned that the park’s open hours were 7 AM to 10 PM (both times in the deep dark lately), and another noting “Mountain Bike Trail Closed Due to Conditions”. Apparently the ranger, or whoever it is that unlocks the gate, had placed the sign first thing.

Walking the wide, winding and comfortable footpath through low rolling hills and past marshes and ponds, we frequently intersected with the mountain bike path, which was unpaved, narrow, and took in steeper features of the landscape. Signs were posted wherever the two thoroughfares crossed to warn walkers of bikers, and bikers of walkers. The weather was dry, the sky was clear, but we met no mountain bikers. Apparently the unnamed “conditions” had put some of them off.

I marvel at the usefulness of the phrase, “due to conditions”. If that’s the only thing needed, then much can be accomplished. Last month in the UK, the Prime Minister sought to suspend Parliament “due to conditions”. Apparently the Queen even went along with it. Politicians on this side of the Atlantic can refuse to turn over documents “due to conditions” and miscreants excuse their misdeeds “due to conditions.”  

I’m wondering, what can I get away with?

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Reading a Movie

We were not much for going to the movies during our 39 years in Taiwan, especially after we signed up for cable TV in the early 1990s. There were a few things that deterred us from movie palaces, a couple of which we noticed this week when we were once again in a “cinema” (which has become an occasional indulgence since retirement).

The movie was Photograph, set and made in Mumbai, and almost entirely in Marathi. We only understood it by reading the subtitles. That made if familiar from Taiwan. Though we rarely went to movies that weren’t already in English, all movies there come subtitled in Chinese. So, seeing lines of text at the bottom of the screen was familiar. 

A couple of scenes took place in a movie theater, not just “A” movie theater, but an old one in a poorer part of town. We’ve BEEN to theaters like that in Taiwan. Not recently, but in the 1970s when the same sort of places were still in operation. Nowadays when one sees such a building, it’s usually boarded up (though there’s one movie revival hall in Tainan that advertises itself as being the kind of theater that you used to go to in the “good old days”.)  In Photograph when a woman attending a movie on a date is startled by something, her escort casually says to her, “It’s only a rat scurrying across your feet. It’s gone now.”  

Movie theaters with resident rats are probably not uncommon even in America, but one does not EXPECT to experience wildlife in there. The place where we see films in Holland, MI is owned by the local college. It doesn’t show “current” things, and what attracts us to it is the special or “out of the ordinary” stuff they occasionally put on screen. Are there rats? Maybe, but we’ve not been visited by any, yet…

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

Wearing Safety Glasses

I’m moved today to thank my daughter-in-law, Katelyn. Last winter she reminded me of the need to wear safety glasses while using power tools. It had been so many decades since I took wood shop in high school, so many since I’d used anything more weighty than a power drill, that I’d forgotten.  Workers in Taiwan wear safety helmets regularly, but I can’t remember seeing folks working with wood wearing safety goggles. Maybe I just didn’t look closely enough. 

When my son, Grant (Katelyn’s husband) and I did a project involving a different power saw months ago. As we wrote a list for what to get at the tool shop, thinking “equipment”, she added in, “goggles”.  We got two pairs and wore them most of the time through the entire project. I tossed them among the tools when we were done. BUT, the next time I plugged in that saw, I donned a pair. Though nothing ever neared my eyes, I felt better about the protection. 

This week I have a portable table saw checked out from the neighborhood tool library. I brought it home yesterday afternoon, and set it up to use this morning. I found the wood I wanted to cut into slats and got ready. BUT, before turning on the switch, I went and found the goggles. I was sawing away at the first board when something went “click” in the vicinity of my face. I don’t know what it was, or if it would have done any damage to my eye, but I’m grateful to Katelyn for getting me equipped so that I don’t have to ask the question. 

David Alexander resides in Holland, MI after 39 years in Taiwan.

 Image Credit:  DJSparky [CC BY-SA 4.0]