Motherland, Day 1: Foreign and familiar

We landed at midnight after 30 hours of travel. In the dark, Taipei didn't seem too different from other cities, except that the signage was in English and Mandarin. It's interesting that my eye was drawn to the English, which made the Mandarin characters seem like decorative graphic elements, instead of the primary navigation they were intended.

We awoke to an overcast, rainy day. More mist than rain. It is damp here.

I couldn't be traveling with kinder people. All of these counselors-in-training are so attentive to other people's feelings. I feel selfish whenever I share; like I should be drawing them out instead. The journalist in me wants to get everyone else's story, but I can't deny how powerful my feelings about this trip are.

This morning was so exciting. Something about big cities invigorates me. We walked several blocks trying to find a bank to exchange money, but they were closed because it was Saturday. People try to talk to me in Mandarin, and I don't understand it. I feel out of place and nerdy and fat ... very uncool. I have never seen so many hip Asians!

All my life I've felt like I stuck out. Browner, shorter, rounder-faced ... Finally I am in a place where I blend in. But I still don't fit in. It's a strange feeling.

I had a lovely conversation with a young man at the CD store this morning. As soon as he realized I didn't speak Mandarin, he said he would try to speak English with me. It was clear he was a little nervous about his English, but we both soon relaxed, and I really enjoyed chatting with him about his studies (which included reading about FLSA in English!). He picked out four CDs for me. The first was his favorite, the second was what was playing at the time, the third was an aboriginal singer from Hualien County, and the fourth is for Miss M.

I left the CD store feeling invigorated and excited about Taiwan. But I started wearing down that afternoon. I walked down Shi Da and stopped in a few stores. Each time the salesperson tried to speak Mandarin to me. When I indicated I didn't quite understand, they would repeat themselves. I tried smiling and nodding, but it only seemed to encourage them to keep going! I felt so dumb. I don't know why I felt ashamed to tell them I was American and didn't understand what they were saying. So many people here speak English, and I couldn't even remember how to say "excuse me" in Mandarin.

This evening, we encountered a housekeeper. She informed us she is Venezuelan and has been in Taiwan 25 years. I felt a surge of elation, and said "hola!" It was so exciting to be able to communicate -- minimally! -- with someone. Then she was talking to me more, and I couldn't understand a word of what she was saying. There was a lot of background noise, and I thought she was speaking Spanish. I just smiled and nodded. She leaned closer and repeated it. I smiled and nodded, even though I still couldn't understand. It was only later, when she said "Chinese OK?" that I figured out she had been speaking Mandarin, and she realized I didn't know the language. It was embarrassing to have to explain.

Walking around, I was surprised to see so many American brands. I knew Starbucks was everywhere, but I didn't expect to see a Pizza Hut with insulated cases on the backs of delivery scooters. I also didn't expect to see so many stores selling Converse, Eccos and even Clarks.

Tonight in our group therapy (aka "process time") we talked about wanting to fit in/not wanting to stand out, and accessibility (i.e. finding a restaurant with pictures you can point to). It's nice to know I'm not the only one who wants to be cool in a foreign place. It's something to think about when I return home -- how can I make visitors, especially international ones, feel welcome in my world?