Please don’t hate me! I was not content with my first version of this poem. Something about the third stanza (and a few other things) just didn’t fit. So I revised it, and here it is. Most of you know by now: This poem is dedicated to “wind.”
From here to there and everywhere,
on and on you go.
I hear you there, or is it there?
Your face, you’ll never show.
O’er sea and over mountain,
continent and plain,
from Asia to the Balkan:
the world is your domain.
At times I’ve seen you angry,
you howl and wreak havoc.
It’s then I shiver meekly,
and stand in awe, dumbstruck.
But when you’re sweet, you’re lovely;
you caress my soul.
Your whispers soft and balmy,
you can take me whole.
And though I cannot touch you,
on wings you fly me high,
to places where I knew you,
under another sky.
Dragons are the most exalted “animal” in Chinese culture.
I was struck by its colors. Bright red and yellow and blue and green . . .
But then it was gone. Nick* was driving too fast. But, oh wait! There was another one. This one looked similar, only it was bigger. Rainbow-colored dragons with yellow spines leaped from its peaks. Black-bearded men holding whips perched nearby. I was agog.
I didn’t recognize the man who had appeared out of nowhere beside our table.
“How’s that arm?” He touched my shoulder. “Your dad was so worried about you—and not just about your arm, about your life! How long ago was that, anyway? . . . And how ’bout Hong Kong? Your dad told me you were over there. What were you doing there? Bet ol’ Placerville feels small now! I’ve never been to Asia. Born and raised in SoCal; moved up here and never left. Did a rotation in Dublin once, though. One of the best times of my life. What ya doin’ in ol’ Placerville?”
I wondered, briefly, how the man breathed. His lips hardly seemed to keep up with his mouth. Continue reading →
In case I didn’t paint a clear enough picture in my last post, I thought this one might help.
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Boy from the Solomon Islands.
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Next time: “Talking Heads.” A look at how language shapes culture, and vice versa. And how it feels to be a foreigner, in oblivion.
Note: Images taken from a variety of sources on the Internet. I will be posting a list with each individual source soon. Not meaning to infringe on any copyrights!
No matter where you go, people are people. Can you believe that?
See, I thought, when I moved to Taipei, that this dark-haired multitude would be somehow different than me. And, of course, they were. I mean, the things they liked to eat and the way they did their hair—that kind of thing. But when it came down to the REAL stuff, the stuff that makes people people, they were exactly like me!
I wanted to test out my theory, though, so I moved to Hong Kong. Hong Kong is bigger and more crowded than Taipei. As the world’s leading international business center, it holds more different kinds of people, too. In Hong Kong I could observe hundreds, no, thousands of people from all over the world every day. The MTR was a superb testing site.
It was grueling work, jostling amongst strangers. But when the results came in, the data was clear: People are people! Whether Asian or Indian or European or Russian or . . ., people everywhere have the same basic traits.
See, we all want to be loved. That one’s for sure. And we all like food. That one’s also 100 percent. We’re all a bit self-conscious. About 90 percent. And girls and boys everywhere are similar. For example: It’s usually the girls who wear high heels and giggle and the boys who wear basketball shoes and guffaw. Not the other way around. Usually. (Of course, there are always exceptions, but we’re not delving into Thailand’s lady men right now.)
man laughing (image: daviddisalvo.org)
No matter where we’re from, we all like to laugh. But we don’t laugh enough. For many reasons. Unless, of course, we’re a comedian. Then we have other problems. But I’m not funny so I don’t really know.
Oh, and, we all have a story. This one is definitely 100 percent. We tell our stories in many different ways: the way we act, the way we dress, the way we carry ourselves, the way we brush our teeth. Some of us have good stories; some of us have bad. None of us have perfect stories. But all of us are interested in other people’s stories.
Take my research, for example. While making observations on the MTR, I realized everyone else was conducting the same study on me. Everyone kept looking and staring and glancing away at their shoes and then looking again. And not just at me, but at everyone! It was as if they couldn’t help themselves. As if they were inextricably drawn to each other. As if . . .
As if they knew something all of us had known all along:
Our stories are the things that connect us. If we can begin to understand and love one another, we can begin to understand and love ourselves.
Some people think geckos are cute. Cute? A four-legged reptile who climbs walls and never blinks is cute? I fervently disagree, and I blame GEICO.
GEICO is a car insurance sales company in the States. In 2000, GEICO created Martin the GEICO Gecko®, a new mascot whose Cockney accent (voiced by English comedian and actor Jake Wood) and catchy quips stole America’s heart and left children begging, “I want one!”
And I’ve got to hand it to them: Martin is pretty adorable. With his sunny disposition and humorous clips, the GEICO Gecko® engages viewers and employs advertising strategies that best most of its competitors. “Fifteen minutes could save you 15 percent or more on car insurance,” says the gecko . . . Well, who wouldn’t want that?
But I’m not here to sell car insurance.
I’m here to tell you that the GEICO Gecko’s® cuteness is a LIE.
Geckos are a common sight throughout Asia. In Taiwan and Hong Kong, where I spent most of the last three years, the most common species is the “house gecko.” House geckos live in homes and other buildings and are actually quite helpful—they eat bugs, including cockroaches. Most of the geckos I saw were small, but in some places they can grow to larger than one foot (36 centimeters)!
a gecko in my home in hong kong
Now, perhaps you think sharing your home with a gecko would be no big deal. They kill cockroaches, right? That’s a good thing! But, tell me, the next time you’re brushing your teeth and suddenly realize you’re not alone, and the next time you see a four-inch gecko staring at you, well . . . Tell me how you feel. ‘Cause it made me jump!
But, actually . . . You’re right.
It’s a lesson I learned the hard way. The first time I saw a gecko in Taiwan, I threw shoes at it. “Get out of my house!” I yelled. My apartment was incredibly clean, and I wasn’t accustomed to sharing my living quarters with lizards, or any other creatures, for that matter. I’d spent weeks getting rid of cockroaches and mosquitoes (with poison baits and plug-ins); the spiders were easier (tissue paper and a broom); and I was praying I would never see a snake (thankfully, I lived on the fourth floor). But, now . . . What was I supposed to do with this?
It was only later that I learned about the benefits of geckos, and, eventually, I—almost? sort of? kind of?—got used to having them around.
And I realized . . . Maybe I’d been overreacting?
Maybe I’d been overreacting about a lot of things?
Could worrying less about the little things help me focus better on the big things?
I still don’t think geckos are cute, though.
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Check out one of the GEICO Gecko’s® latest ads (below):
It occurred to me as I was pulling on a pair of pants: Americans are pansies.
The pants were stiff and tough; ugh! They weren’t comfortable at all. The last time they’d been washed—and hung to dry—I was living in Hong Kong.
The same thing had happened, in reverse, when I first moved home. Pulling a shirt out of the dryer, I was amazed. So this is what it feels like to use a dryer . . .
And it struck in me a memory. I remembered previous journeys abroad—to Italy, France, and Taiwan. And I remembered a particular sense of dread each time: I’m going to have to HANG DRY my clothes??!!
[Pause. Cough.]
Hang dry your clothes? YES, you’re going to have to hang dry your clothes, you big sissy! And it’s not going to kill you, either. Millions, no, BILLIONS of people around the world hang dry their clothes every day. How do you think people dried their clothing a hundred years ago? . . .
And they do it in humidity, too! You’re at least lucky you live in California.
Pshh. As if this is something you should even be worrying about.
And besides! Did you know that, while Americans make up only five percent of the world’s population, they use 20 percent of its energy*? Do you realize how much energy you can save by hang drying your clothes?
[Pause. Sheepish grin.]
Although, I have to admit: Remember when your clothes used to smell like mold? Using a dryer is nice.
From here to there and everywhere,
