ease-y musing

(photo: taking it easy in the hot springs with our new wonderful friends)

Now that we're down to ten weeks left in this glorious country, I'm trying to sort out what we've learned in a concrete way so that when I'm home, I'll be able to retain a bit of it. Chinese, that's one thing we've learned - some at least, enough that we're excited about a trip to China in July. But bigger things - personal things. It feels as if there's been a great shift, but it's not quite tangible. I wrote about money in the fall, and that certainly is one huge part.

This morning, though, biking back from McKinley's school, I had a modest epiphany - 3.6 on the Richter scale. It's supposed to be easy.
That's it. Do what needs to be done with ease.

For years I've been battling with myself about exercise - need to go to the club, need to get friends together to do yoga, and if they don't come, I don't yog; really should walk more, swim, run, bike... but given the choice, working is always more enticing. Maybe if I hated my work?

Now I'm biking through the back lanes every morning before breakfast. Then every afternoon, I go watch McKinley play soccer (how good it feels to be a Taiwanese Soccer Mom!) and there, all the moms walk around the track while we watch the kids play. I've even been known to run a few laps. On the weekends, we all go play soccer, and twice a week, our family all does an hour and a half of T'ai Chi. All together, I'm not doing much yoga, but I'm getting so much more exercise than I've had in years. And it's easy.

That's what the epiphany was, biking this morning. It takes so much energy to prod this body from stasis to movement. If it requires thought, it's hard. Exercise, like eating, like taking a bath, like reading a good book, like doing housework, like going to work - all these things are supposed to be easy. Not necessarily physically or intellectually easy, but they do not require my busy little mind to go into overload about whether or not it should or shouldn't happen today... how about tomorrow? It just happens. Easy.

So can I take this new thoughtless habit home? I hope so. I hope it's easy. .^_^. Alison

Easter Eggs

We love making Easter eggs. The whole magic of dying eggs and then hiding and finding them is a cultural delight that we wanted to share. When we were in Japan, we invited Anika's friends to get dressed up in easter bonnets and fancy dresses and did a fantastic hunt along the gardens of the canal. But here, McKinley and her friends are a little too old for that.
We invited our friends who invited their friends, and pretty soon we had thirty people here, decorating eggs. We invited the moms to try to blow eggs - that was pretty funny! And then we went out in the drizzling rain to have a hunt. It was fantastic fun.
When it all was over, most of the people went to the home of one of the moms, and we had a mass dumpling making party. The food was -- how do you say? Unbelievable. Oh yeah. All vegetarian, all flavor. How about this - fresh green beans swiftly deep fried, then tossed in salt and white pepper. Simple. Sublime.

on the way to school

Spring Thoughts

Our friends tell us that in Vermont, the Forsythia is bursting out. That means that soon the ground won't be muddy, and birds will come back. Ulli, our cat, will be in cat heaven - those snowy moles all winter are not nearly as much fun as songbirds on the wing.

In Taiwan, Spring means rice fields and trees with heavily scented blossoms. There are Mongolian winds sweeping dust across the land, and rains nearly every afternoon. The mountains, so close, are frequently covered in clouds while the valley here by the sea is bright and hot. The days sweep between cool and blazing. I suppose blazing isn't fair, as there is still summer to come, but in contrast with the cool, it's pretty brilliantly hot. It's the color of the sun that is so sharp - The kind of sunlight that makes a knife-like shadow.

Every day I bike along and think of things to say - about the pet pig who eats up the leftovers from dinner the night before. One morning we saw her refusing the spaghetti looking mess. The next day she had it again. She was eating it. Poor pig. She's a well-fed black-and-pink pig. Her owner is in a wheel-chair, and he sits outside their home on the road, with a 2 year old between his knees, and every morning smiles widely at us and wishes us a good morning. McKinley is fun to watch, zooming by on her bicycle in her uniform.

It's mostly the wind in the rice that I want to share. But I'm not sure how - the smell is both grassy and nutty. The green is sublime. The way the colors shift and shade as the wind blows waves in the fields -- Oh it is so lovely. We are really feeling at home here, and the poignancy of having only 2 1/2 months left is nearly too much to bear.

April Fool's Earthquake

Lots of news to catch up with, but first this -

We were out playing soccer, with the team of kids from McKinley's new school (news) against a team of adults. It gave the kids great competitive skills, but if they got past the expert guys to actually take a shot at the goal, I (Alison), in my great wisdom and compassion, usually let the ball go through. .^_^.

This was at the city stadium, a huge arena for soccer and track and field events, with the entrance cover a long metal roof over concrete supports.

Suddenly, just after dusk, the floodlights flickered and the metal roof made a pounding, crackling sound. The ground jolted and rippled. My first instinct was to get to McKinley and hold her. It felt exactly like ten years ago, when we were in Japan, and thousands of people were killed in Kobe. The coaches shouted to me, "Stand still!" but I had to hold McKinley. Then I stood still.

I don't understand the nature of time, but something like this, when the earth you trust starts to swerve beneath your feet, and adrenalin shoots through your veins, time is so slow. It was 30 seconds? A minute? It was far too long to have McKinley 50 yards away from me!

It turns out that we were at the epicenter, right here in Taitung, and it was 6.4, with four aftershocks. It didn't cause much damage - shelves in stores with goods piled up, spilled to the floor; there were some fires and a few injuries - but nothing like the experience in Japan.

I look back and wonder how we knew - because we did know - how very very bad that was. Immediately after that earthquake, we called home to Joplin's parents and said to them, "We don't know what's happened, but it's bad. There's been an earthquake, and we're okay." Five minutes later, the phones were out, for the rest of the week, and daily the body count grew.

This time, we stopped, listened to the metal roof clatter, watched the carefully designed concrete supports flex and hold. Then when the earth settled down, someone blew the whistle, and the ball was in play.