Dear YC,
Thank you for the beautiful Christmas card which arrived at my flat in Tokyo in time for the holiday. I was absolutely amazed at the image of the books when the card was unfolded. It certainly felt so privileged to be remembered. Thank you. I felt as if I could smell these old books and touched their leather covers just like I did while I was browsing through stacks of antique books in the Minster Library in York. (Well, my imagination cannot reach to Cambridge, but I believe it is probably even more fascinating.)

Now the card is sitting in front of my desk to make up for a missing bookcase, which I would love to have but couldn't.

I have been busy with teaching, but everything has been going well in general . How about yourself? I hope you have felt less stressed by now being surrounded by the warmth and love of your family.

After the last class this year, I have been remembering the time when we were colleagues back in 2003. It was the first year of teaching for both of us, I guess, and we shared both fun and upsetting experiences about teaching during that year. I remember I was always easily annoyed by students who did not care enough about the class. While they were chatting, sleeping, or doing something else in the class, anger was burning in my eyes. Ha! For several years afterwards, I actually thought that I was stupid enough to be annoyed in that way at that time. As I realized later that perhaps in my case it was rather a sense of insecurity that was induced by my own lack of experience in teaching.

It might be the detached viewpoint, which I have gained by leaving the position, that has brought me to this conclusion. Surprising to myself, however, it seems that I am still struggling with the same problems of teaching even now. The facts that some students simply do not have motivation to learn and that some would ignore classroom rules, still bother me. The lessons that I have picked up from that year of teaching prove futile especially when I need them to console my other self as a confused instructor. I simply do not remember how I overcame the difficulties, it seems.

Or may I say that there is never such a thing as an 'experienced' teacher? Every teaching is a new experience, considering that every learner is a unique individual with his/her special needs.

Sorry for whining! It is just that I am usually very nostalgic and reflective at this moment of year.

You mentioned that you are thrilled at next year's theatre productions in Cambridge. I am very envious! I am still very far away from the time when I am able to understand and appreciate in depth the theatre here.

I wish all things well with you in the rest of the academic year. I was very pleased to know that you said you love the place in your first email. Enjoy it!

Hugs and warmth.

Teaching: Lesson One

A couple of months ago in the office, Mr. T asked me what I was about to teach on that day. 'Globalisation', I replied. He must have seen through my anxiety about teaching that subject, so that he had an expression of 'ah ha, that topic!' to tease me. I then talked to him about my indecisiveness about what information to 'teach' or to 'share with' students on that day. I was very much troubled, since my own position became very strong when talking about issues like this. There were so many to say about the subject, and I didn't feel justified if only one type of views was emphasized. So it turned out that I had too many materials to go through within the sapce of 90 minutes.

Mr. T asked about the level of the class. A few minutes later, he came back with a set of cards with vocabulary items on each of them, and, of course, every word was related to globalisation. He then talked about what he did when he had a class on globalisation years ago. Each of the students received two cards, and their responsibility was to make a sentence that connects the two vocabulary items they had. Whatever sentence would do. At the end of the game, they would figure out something, whatever that was, on their own.

I didn't use that handy activity in the class in the end, but that certainly was a epiphany-like moment for me as a language teacher instead.

Considering the type of the class, I was not there to inform them about extant debates about the issue. As a language instructor, my job was to help learners express what they thought and what they wanted to say. Then, if needed be, in-depth discussion would follow. My personal position should come after their thoughts and needs.

I have to admit that a unknown (well, I know what it is) ambition and pride had prevented me from committing myself to that function of a language teacher until then. But I was lucky that this primary note to me as a language teacher was picked up in a small game.

Just Another Interesting Anecdote,
Isn't It?

A couple of weeks ago, O. visited Tokyo, or technically the East, for the first time.

I was very relieved when he told me that the journey was immensely enjoyable. O. is a very optimistic, adventurous, and out-going person by nature, so perhaps the horror of being surrounded by a graphic language like Japanese could be overcome easily.

On the night before he flew back to Europe, we had dinner together. He told us an interesting anecdote that happened to him during his stay.
On his first day in Japan, he was stopped by two policemen in Ueno station, who asked him for his passport. According to the immigration law in Japan, visitors to this country are obliged to take their passports or any other identification certificate that is legally equivalent. He said he had left it in the hostel. Then the policemen made some questions concerning about his visit and where he was going at the time. Then they realized O. was a traveler and his nationality, and they let him go. It happened twice to him on the same day in the same station.

According to K., perhaps the police was actually on a mission to find a certain person on that particular date in that specific location.

While O. was narrating his story, my brain was boiling hot, and what immediately came to my mind was the issues of xenophobia and discrimination against tourists. I was frowning at the story and ready to make a complaint. However, before I started my argument, O. laughed away this experience and was somehow pleased by the fact that he was thought to be a 'traveler' instead of holiday maker or tourist.
His reaction then silenced me.

Afterwards I kept thinking if I had been him, I would take that an insult and would complain hard about it.

I don't know whether O. kept to himself any other interpretation of his experience, but his relaxed reaction certainly gave an alternative lesson on being a foreigner and looking at one's own foreignness in a different country.

Sometimes, it might be simply true that I am grounded by some over-politicized arguments about discrimination.

Take it easy and take it light! Perhaps.

Green Curtain

Since the early summer, the city council started growing trailing plant outside its main building.

First, they set up a net hanging down from the top of the building to the ground floor; a week or so after, vines started climbing upwards along the net; then it didn't take too long before the foliage covered up the entire wall.

It was quite amazing to see such a massive green curtain in the city especially when its purpose was still unknown to me.

The buckets in the bottom, one day when I got a chance to have a peek, explained that it's an effort to fight against global warming. The natural shade that the vines provided to the concrete building would efficiently shut out burning sunlight and thereby reduce room temperature significantly. In this way, the use of air-conditioners would be economized.

Afterwards, I noticed that the ideas had been put into practice in many households throughout the neighborhood.

In addition to the environmentally friendly economy that this idea anticipated, the city also benefited from the increase of green spaces in its landscape.


Last week, I was surprised again by another bonus that this eco-economy brought to the community. Since the harvest season began, the vines started yielding sponge gourds, very healthy-looking and huge gourds indeed.
The total yield was given for free to whoever would take it.

The city council is plausible for their ideas and efforts, but what was even more beautiful is the generosity of nature and the greens.

鯛焼き（taiyaki）

This afternoon I posted replies to friends who had kindly sent us warm greetings for the wedding. K took the chance to take a walk around the neighborhood. It has become a pleasure for us to promenade and explore unseen places near the house.

We stopped by a taiyaki shop and bought two fish for our afternoon tea, custard and red bean paste. In the snack shop, while we were checking menu, figuring out prices, and talking in English as if we were all alone, the young owner of the shop kindly interrupted us explaining to us in English! That was quite unexpected to me.
Immediately I was embarrassed. I hope he wasn't laughing at me in private when I was telling K how I was amazed at a gigantic shredding machine that was sitting in the shop. It is the kind of machine that people used to make shredded ice when I was little. Shredded ice with a scoop of syrup rocked! 'How nostalgic it is!' I said.

On our way home, K wondered why the shop owner opened his taiyaki shop on a main street with all possible expenses considered. In a rather cliched story that we made for him, the young shop owner was assigned the role of a young man with vision and ambition. He was a traveler wandering across the globe when he was younger, but his commitment to the spirit of taiyaki, a traditional Japanese sweets, brought him home. This shop is just the first step to his dream kingdom of taiyaki. (How Japanese drama it sounds!)
Anyway, we didn't really make it to end the story, but it gave me a good laugh. I laughed away the troubles that had haunted my brain space much earlier in the afternoon. How therapeutic this simple pleasure was then.

The taiyaki was not amazing, to be frank, but what came with it was.

My Domestic Goddess Project:
Light Eats and the Rainy Season

We had a short break from the non-stop rain of the season yesterday. It was breezy and sunny. Shadows of laundry trotted across the curtain like running horses.

It provided a wonderful atmosphere for light and simple eats in this suffocating season of humidity. We had tomato flower cum plum pickles and cold plain noodle for lunch. Both were refreshing and very appetizing! I love beautiful presentation of food than the food itself, to be frank. The tomato was cut in a vertical direction so that it was able to bloom. Plain noodle dipped in dashi (だし) sauce (1 dashi: 2 water) was simply tasty. It tasted clam, cold, and pleasant. It felt as if pores, eyes and ears were temporarily immue from the heat and humidity in the air. The Japanese vocabulary that I just picked up, 素直な, might describe the taste well, or perhaps 'rustic'. I admit that the description sounds rather pretentious or exaggerating, but I really liked the weightless look and taste of the food.
The noodles floated in the amber dipping sauce gleaming like necklaces of coral. My tongue almost abandoned its duty at the sight of the translucency in the presentation.

Over the last few days, I have been experimenting with several light dishes. Spinach in crashed sesame seeds, sesame oil, sugar and some soy sauce; Asian cucumber blended in miso paste, sesame oil, a pinch of sugar. They were small delights on the dinning table for sure.

Bravo Veggies! They provide soothing company in summer!

Hydrangea (あじさい, Azisai) 紫陽花

Hydrangea has been dominating the landscape of our neighborhood since a month ago. They are definitely showy and daring in posing for their beauty.
A couple of weeks ago when I visited the house of my aunt-in-law, she had a hydrangea standing on her dinning table. I was astonished at the close look at the flowers and was amazed at the vivid traces of veins on its petals and leaves. To me the net of veins manifested the vigor and power of their life.

It was pouring on that day, but, I remembered, all the hydrangeas stood stubbornly and bloomed extravagantly despite the torrential rain. It was as if they had no fear at all of braving the weight of the rain but enjoyed the down-pouring water as, perhaps, their name denoted.
My aunt-in-law must have told me that it is called 'azisai' (あじさい), but my command of Japanese language is too shallow to make it memorable.

Then in my textbook I came to know that Azisai, or hydrangea, is the flower of the rainy season in Japan, usually during May and June.

Ah! no wonder!

I then tried to take snaps of these flowers; however, perhaps the rainy season is now approaching an end, so that most of the blossom that I once saw is gone. What a pity! My knowledge about the pleasant plant came so late!

Fortunately, I did manage to catch up with some blossom, which waited until the last moment.

Sometimes there are azisai of different colors, for instance, pink, purple, baby blue, or white, on the same shrub. It is curious indeed. Roses can have different colors, but they are only found on different roots, as I remember. (Correct me if I am wrong, please.) The research on the internet told me that it is absolutely common for azisai. The degree of acidity of the soil determines the color of azisai flowers. As it is said, flowers turn blue if the soil is acid; they become white if the soil is neutral. Of course, then, it is possible to try to decide the color of the flowers in one's garden by adding fertilizers to the soil.

When I was hanging cloths last weekend, our landlady greeted me in the garden. She was trimming the plants outside our window. Then she pointed to some shrubs skirting along the house telling me that they are Azisai. I was so surprised and so much excited that I asked twice, '本当に？本当に?' (Really?Really!) I have never seen them blooming, and neither has K. The landlady said that they only bloomed once after the year when it was planted, but they have been very quiet ever since the last trimming about 3 years ago.

Upon the news, I sighed and felt the same sorry as the landlady did.

Azisai is so close! But I don't have a chance to see it...

What a romantic picture it would be to have lived in the house surrounded by these colorful ball-like flowers.

My Domestic Goddess Project:
Pork steak and Komatsuna (こまつな（小松菜）)

Ever since I started cooking Japanese food, the Chinese characters of Komatsuna, 小松菜, has intrigued me. The characters, according to Wanchen's dictionary of free translation, were literally interpreted as "the vegetable of Little Pine". Of course, it was partly because I didn't know how to pronounce it in Japanese. Yet, the pastoral image that my literal translation projected, 'the vegetable of Little Pine', had been quite satisfactory to me. I imagined that it was a kind of vegetable that was initially grown by a little boy called Little Pine. Every morning, he would jump out of the bed and hurry to his small allotment in order to see how the little veggies had been. Dews on the leafy komatsuna were shining like pearls and mirroring Little Pine's happy face.


Then I found an easy recipe to try komatsuna. (Imagine how I was excited in the supermarket when I picked up a bag of this romantic veggie!) After the steak and komatsuna were shallow fried, they were ready to serve.

I found that the way I cut the tendon of the steak
made it look like a butterfly (or moth) flying over a meadow of komatsuna 小松菜.

This recipe was found on p. 50, Pork: Garlic Steak (ポークとガーリツクステーキ), in ひとり暮らしの簡単ごはん: Let's Enjoy Cooking.

My Domestic Goddess Project:
Putting the sun in the pocket!

French Crepe, I think, for today's breakfast. It is quite substantial for a breakfast but absolutely yummy.
Well, I enjoyed making it as I felt I was doing an artwork when I tried to locate ingredients to their right positions on the canvas of the crepe.
A slice of yellow cheese as the background, a slice of pink ham as a cloud at dawn, and finally golden egg sitting at the center of the picture as the sun.

A morning full of energy! お元気で！
The recipe is here.

My Domestic Goddess Project

I have been exploring the beautiful cookbooks that I found on K's bookshelf.

Tofu in Pizza Style is a very easy-to-make appetizer!
Basically, you just pile up bacon, sliced pepper, cheese and ketchup on the top of tofu and bake it! We don't have oven in the house, but it proved that toaster also worked!
The tofu chunks taste chewy and denty!

It is called はんぺんのピザ風, on p. 78 in ひとり暮らしの簡単ごはん：Let's Enjoy Cooking. (オレンジペ−ジ)
I love the tips and recipes of small vegetable dishes that this book offers.

My Domestic Goddess Project

After I left York, my baking project has discontinued due to the lack of ovens available to me.
Life goes on, however. The project continues in the line of Asian cuisine.

The Lawson cookbook is now perching on the shelf for a rest. Instead, I am now experimenting with Japanese appetite.

I cooked ginger pork (しょうが焼き) a couple of days ago, a recipe found on p. 18 in いちばんわかりやすい基本の料理.










Ginger is definitely one of the most welcomed spices on our dinner table.

A Desk of One's Own

About the Engagement (II): Some Technical Facts

I started feeling that it will be a long journey before I can actually finish writing everything that I want to write about the engagement. At the same time, I am feeling the pressure of writing as the preparation for the wedding reception in September is now taking place.

I didn't organize every bit of the engagement reception on my own, and the entire event was a final presentation of many people's professional assistance.

It is not a commercial entry, but I do owe a big thank you to the professionals who were involved in the organization and preparation. At the very early stage of the preparation, I resisted some nuptial conventions that have been commercialized and over-emphasized in the last few decades.

However, in the end, I followed some of the 'chessy' fashions. (The term 'chessy' reflects nothing but my snobbery, I confess.)

Although I still feel quite ambivalent about the significance of these nuptial fashions, it is undeniable that we have been enjoying the beautiful and good memory that they have created for us since then.

First, wedding portraits.
The idea of taking portraits to commemorate marriage sounds simply exhausting to a couple like us who normally lack energy in everything. Although I dread the thought of posing for hundreds of shots as newly-weds normally do in Taiwan, I still fancy portraits like those of my parents and grandparents.

One good photo will do, black and white, serious looking but sweet, coy bride and nervous groom, I think.

I made the decision about which salon to go, as K's physical absence conveniently excused him of the duty. We choose to do only 6 photos, which, however, cost us as much as a normal 30-photo package. The wedding gown that my mom picked up for me was magnificent, at least we thought so. The shooting went smooth but was really exhausting. I ended up indulging myself in a 12-hour deep sleep. It was thought to be rather fortunate that there were not another 24 shots to go in the end of the day.

The photos were done in Wernar Wedding in Taichung. I don't have much to comment since I didn't really compare its price and service with other salons. We like the photos (taken by Mr. Chou, lighting by Margo, makeup by Nicole, costume assistance Enes, sales manager Ms Ya-chi Chen) and so do our families and friends. However, sometimes I wonder if it's because I appeared to be rather detached so that the assistants were also very detached from me. Or, perhaps I just need to say honestly that I hope the environment had been more friendly and relaxing.

Second, reception day photos.
I think it was a correct decision to hire a cameraman for the reception. The photos were mirrors of every moment that we shared with all of the guests. I believe the albums (see either my flickr or Mosaic 馬賽克) will be reviewed over and over again, and the pleasure of it will never be exhausted. Mark Wang （馬克）, who is running the salon of Mosaic, is our photographer for the day. In addition to the photographer's perspectives that I have appreciated in his work, he is very friendly and attentive to details. Most impressive of all he is very quick in responding queries and doubts that a busy and anxious bride like me would have. (All the photos in this entry are Mark's snaps.)

Third, venue decoration.
The idea to have the reception venue decorated did not come to me until a close friend of my parents offered this help. Ms Shen and her team at Star Wedding Studio （星辰(Star)會場佈置）created a romantic corner in the venue. Ms Shen was patient enough to visit the venue several times beforehand and to talk with me about their blueprint. At first, I resisted the glamour and extravagance of their design, which might contradict the small and quiet reception that I was expecting. However, their ideas were carried out beautifully, and the corner turned into a quiet gallery where guests would visit and taste the joy of the engagement.





Fourth, venue.
We had our reception in Freshfields Resort and Conference in Taichung. It was a beautiful place that promises a panoramic view of Taichung county. The orchestration of the event was quite eventful, but it was a good day in the end.

Death of a Cockroach

K was shocked when seeing a cockroach in the living room. The amount of poison that he sprayed on that evil insect probably explained the unmeasurable astonishment that he was thrown in.

After clearing away the remains of the cockroach, K determined to chase out all of the possible members of the cockroach family remaining in the house. He showed to me his lethal weapon: cockroach houses. This time, I was the one who was in astonishment. Products of cockroach house across the world, I believe, shared the same design and adopted the same method no matter how culturally distinctive their appearances might be. I thought that the design was usually made as unnoticeable as possible, for instance, small size and simple color prevailed. After all they were kind of embarrassing witnesses to the hygienic standard of a house, weren't they? (of course, this statement can be challenged in many ways especially in the context of Asian countries where this creature never seems to disappear.)
However, the cockroach house that K presented to me was certainly another unmissable product of the kawaii (可愛い) culture of Japan.

The packet contained several parts that would make a good and effective trap.

First you removed the paper that covers the sticky pad and glued a sachet of 'cockroaches' snacks' in the middle in order to attract those unpleasant cohabitants.Then, on two of the entrances to the house, you stuck cotton slips. My Japanese proficiency, if there were any, didn't really help me at this point. According to K, sometimes cockroaches had wet feet after crawling through pipes or wet stuff, and they were expected to wipe their feet on these 'doormats'!

Oh my! :-O No wonder the slips had images of cockroaches with their dry and happy feet!

There was more etiquette awaiting its visitors, it seemed.
On the other two sides of the house were two doors through which cockroaches might also pass. A cockroach san was represented as a gentleman knocking on the door before being invited into the house!

I knew it's going a bit insane now, but the imagination behind the design didn't seem to stop here.

The house had a weathercock on the roof!!
At first, I thought it was another useless decoration that was imposed on the world of non-humans. But guess what, to my surprise, it was also functional!! K told me that it served as a handle when you pick it up and throw it away. It kept your hands uncontaminated.

Up to this point, the initial shock at the appearance of the cockroach was gone. The entire process of assembling the cockroach houses and understanding its design were absolutely amusing.


Let's wait and see how many cockroach sans would come to have a cup of tea.

About the Engagement (1): About Writing the Engagement

SSS_8118.jpg
Originally uploaded by Wanchen Tai

It has been more than 2 months by now since the engagement between I and K in the end of March in 2009. I have been thinking about writing about it but have been either kept busy with other tasks or indecisive about how the event can be represented.

It felt like a dilemma of writing, which I never could avoid ever since the moment when I learned to write. The writing school that I attended in my childhood taught us to be always committed to a good opening, an opening that would surprise readers and that would tantalize their anticipation. This principle, however, has made every writing difficult. Of course, it is also true that I am yet far from good at 'writing' after all. Hurdles are always there not to be overcome.

So an entry about the engagement has been postponed.

Yet I found the 'non-writing' of the engagement quite a serious problem for me since my settlement in Tokyo about 2 weeks ago. When life moved on and the space and time changed, the flow of time that my blog followed lagged behind. I felt rather unorderly if any post about my life in Japan would appear before 'that' piece of writing about that moment.

Then, miraculously, I happened to be able to overcome (or ignore?) this dilemma a couple of days ago when I was reading a novel （月色撩人）by Wang Anyi (王安憶).

She writes about a male character's feelings about love, marriage, and romance:

"另潘索感到沮喪的是，每一次的開頭都很特別，但是結局都是一樣，總是落入窠臼。" (p. 47)
(what disappointed Pan is that every romance begins in a unique way, but nothing ever escapes the set pattern in the end.)

Of course, it is not how I feel about marriage at all. Instead, I am intrigued by the literary contrast between the anticipation for being unique and the disappointment at the inevitable falls into cliches. Any attempt to be different is after all another failed attempt to make difference, that is. What an amusing observation about the destiny of struggles of human beings in life!

I understood that this passage presented a rather hopeless or even pessimistic situation, but I couldn't help laughing at myself when I read this. It set me free from my serious (but useless) attempts to impress readers (or myself, more accurately) by writing a unique article to mark a good moment of my life. If it was only another attempt, I felt less anxious about making this other endeavor now.

The dilemma was then solved.

DSCF1275.JPG
Originally uploaded by Wanchen Tai

After the buzzing noises of the efforts to fulfil the household duties in the morning, the room calmed down in the end.
K was away at work, and I was enjoying typing and working by the window. Yes, literally, by the window.

The grey luminescence in the room in the afternoon was very soothing.

The sun slid in leaving traces on the cool surface of a clean floor.

DSCF1238
Originally uploaded by Wanchen Tai

A bonsai is placed above an artificial pool in the garden with its branch flowing downwards towards the water. It resembles a mini green waterfall pouring into the pool a stream of freshness. The leaves have an extraordinary texture, thick and rich, substantial but weightless.

DSCF1205.jpg
Originally uploaded by Wanchen Tai

Since last week, the small tree of bell fruit has been laden with red bells in our front garden. Dad is extremely proud of his efforts and have been counting the rubies everyday.

Although 'wax apple' or 'java apple' seems to be more true to its texture, its alias-- bell fruit-- is certainly more accurate in visual terms. As a popular nickname 'bell fruit' is always preferable to me. Such a poetic alternative projects a romantic imagination about summer! They would be ringing delicious melody between leaves in an orchard, if its heavenly taste and smell could be translated into audial patterns.

These bells on our small tree are just miniatures in comparison with those sold in the market. Unsellable though they are surely jewels, the apples of Dad's eye.

I love looking at them, especially their fat bottoms. It's always amazing to see how the shape is formed and the pattern created. Hanging upsdie down, they resemble flowers in blossom, flowers with the sweetest petals in the world.


K and his families were amazed at this tropical produce when they tasted it for the first time last month. I am not scientifically knowledgeable enough to know whether or not it is genetically related to apple at all, but they all agreed on the similarity between apple and wax apple. (Strangely though I had never thought so before they mentioned it.)

Our tree is too small to bear edible or sweet bell fruit in the end, but the visual delight they offer is nothing inferior to the excitement that they bring to the palate.

DSCF1188.JPG
Originally uploaded by Wanchen Tai

Between the end of spring and the commencement of summer, we found a mother Chinese bulbul and its three babies nesting in the Azalea bushes at the garden. These small lives have brought excitement to my parents, who have attentively watched them and faithfully reported their progress since the day the nest took shape.

Two pumpkin-shaped calamondins were found among their plump comrades. The orange skin shone like the beaming sun. I was amazed at the visual effect that was produced when they were rested on an old rattan chair. The stripy pattern that was shared between them made a wonderful tapestry of simplicity.

The time that I have spent at home since January has been an ongoing observation of different moments of lives: living and dying.

While I was celebrating the tender lives of the 3 chicks and the vibrant color that signaled summer's approach, a life faded out in that same afternoon.

After several months' illness, little P, our pet dog, died. Little P was not little at all, he was the type of breed that usually has stout body-build. However, he had never been like dogs of his breed but rather quiet and timid in many ways.
When I touched the corpse of little P and helped to remove it to be buried,
I was speechless being confronted with death, the silent, watchful and powerful presence of which was right there feeling my hands.

Death itself is fearful, I think. What is overwhelming lies in the moment when life and death make contact. It is still hard to believe how life was just breathed away and how it was simply gone despite the efforts that were made to rescue it.

I was smelling the smell of little P for the entire night and day afterwards wherever I went, a smell of both life and death, living and dying.

The chicks and their mother are chirping in the garden; the backyard is left empty and quiet.

Engagement in March, 2009

Kunio and Wanchen are getting engaged.