Apologies

It's taking forever for me to post my writings from Taiwan. I apologize. It's just very emotional for me, and sometimes I just don't want to think ... or feel ... about this.

Motherland, Day 9: She sells sea shells

... and squid and octopus and jumping shrimps and wiggly crabs and creepy eels and red fish and white fish and yellow fish and more.

I tried snail/escargot for the first time today at the Wuchi fishing port and market. I also saw a whole lot of sea creatures I've never seen before. We walked around the back and were able to see a little of the processing. Customers were choosing big fish, and the workers would use a saw to slice them.

After the fish market, we headed toward some windmills we'd seen in the distance. It turned out there was a little walking park along the shore, so we stopped and walked a bit. Fresh air, waves crashing, a little rain spray. It was calming.

I made it on the right train this time, transferred to the MRT (subway) and got off at the correct station. I even followed the signs to the right exit. But my most proud moment was orienting once I emerged from the station. I could see the signs for my street, but I didn't know which direction to turn. It's been overcast most days, and without the sun, my sense of direction is handicapped. I was about to head left, when I noticed a slight difference between the street signs: One had an "E" after it, and the other had a "W." I knew my destination was east, so I turned right instead and as I walked, started seeing familiar landmarks.

Tomorrow we head to Hualien, city of my birth. Part of me feels a little numb to my adoption process right now; part of me recognizes this is a pretty momentous homecoming. This weekend I luxuriated in "tourist" mode. Tomorrow, will I feel Taiwanese?

Motherland, Day 7-8: Down the coast, up the mountain

Yesterday, I made my way to the MRT station, rode up to Taipei main station, and got on the high speed rail to Taichung. The high-speed rail is really fast! Apparently, the drive to Taichung would normally take 3 hours. My ride was about 40 minutes.

Today started with a Taiwanese breakfast (pancake rolled up with ham and vegetables). Then we drove into the mountains, where the views were incredible. Lush like Jamaica, clouded and mysterious like a scene from Ang Lee's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, open and delightful like a scene from the Sound of Music -- unique to Taiwan. We ended up at a park called Sun Link Sea (Sun Lin Xi) and took a $40 NT bus ride as far as it would go. Then we hiked up the rest of the way on our own. My Canon battery started to crap out, so thank goodness I had both that and my iPhone. Words can't describe it. And pictures cannot capture the depth of texture, the fresh smell, the cool dampness, the sounds of water falling and frogs calling.

I thought we might never get out of the park because every minute, I felt compelled to take more pictures! But finally we headed down the mountain to make our dinner reservation: a hot pot restaurant called Shabu Shabu. Seriously, I cannot believe we do not have one of these where I live -- someone could make a lot of money off it. It's like Hu Hot meets Chinese buffet meets teppanyaki dinner. You order your broth of choice, and it fits into a burner on the table. Meanwhile, you choose whatever you want to put in your hot pot -- vegetables, tofu, meat, dumplings. While you're waiting for your hot pot to cook, you can enjoy a variety of buffet dishes. Fruits, vegetables, sushi, dim sum, dumplings, soup, hot cooked food ... the choices seem endless. Like any good Chinese buffet, ice cream is included. This one also had a chocolate fountain and display case of fancy desserts. Simply overwhelming.

Originally we planned to go to an outdoor concert, but it seemed awfully chilly for that. So instead, we headed back to my buddy's house, and she took me on my first Taiwanese motorbike ride! It was so fun! We stopped at a fruit market and then a pet store ("fish middle fish" was the literal translation of the characters, but I think it means something like the best fish of the best). Now I know where all the Taiwanese get their dog sweaters. And dog strollers. And fish. And shrimp. And frogs. And turtles. And hampsters. And ferrets. Yes, ferrets.

Of course, on the way home, we stopped for bubble tea. Any weight I gain on this trip is totally in bubble tea. I mostly get it without milk to cut some calories, but I just cannot resist. It's soooooooooooooo good!

Tomorrow, we are headed to some fishing area. It will be neat to see the coast. Then back to Taipei. I am having an amazing time. Conquering so many fears -- of heights, of strange foods, of new people and experiences. It's exhilarating.

 

Motherland, Day 6: Solace in solitude

I've been trying to figure out why I react the way I do to learning information I have actively sought out. Yesterday, sitting in the adoption information center's waiting room trying to absorb all the new information, I felt a mix of numbness and sadness. This morning I cried in the shower.

Some have compared the adoption emotional journey as one of grief and loss. Just yesterday I asked someone, "How do you grieve what you don't know?" And this morning it hit me. Every piece of the puzzle that I find -- every detail I didn't know that I now know -- is one I must grieve. Learning of new, or more vividly described, family members makes me wonder what might have been. It makes the loss of family and culture more acute. It makes me sad to think of people with whom I will probably never have a relationship. Uncles Miss M may never know. Grandparents I never knew.

Understanding how I feel is also what prevents me from pulling out all the stops to find these family members. Just as I grieve to learn of them, surely learning of me could cause them some sadness. Or maybe not. Maybe they will assume I am so lucky, they did me a favor, I should be grateful, or -- worse -- I owe them. Yet another reason to be cautious in my search. I have a family of my own to protect.

Motherland, Day 5: Thankful and thought-full

Today was intense.

It started with a provoking process session that focused around inequity and privilege and the guilt that some of us feel about it. It is clear in Taiwan that many (but not all!) people idealize, and even idolize, America. For example, the field of counseling psychology in Taiwan is modeled after American programs and studies. "Indigenous" research is an emerging area. It is important to build a body of research that reflects Taiwan's cultural perspective.

Another example: I stopped in a night market shop this evening that looked cheaper than a dollar general but had American clothes: AE, random university-branded attire, etc. I saw a pair of infant Jumping Beans sweatpants for the equivalent of $8 USD, twice what they would cost at Kohls! And all of the attire looked like rejects from a 75% off sales bin.

For me, while I can say that I understand I am privileged, I don't always know if I feel or believe it, because I never felt privileged growing up. However, when I am here, I cannot disregard or be ignorant of the fact that many Taiwanese perceive me as coming from a place of privilege. So for me to complain about my struggles may seem ungrateful.

After process time, I listened to a presentation from a professor on gender issues and career counseling. The most interesting part was that she shared her personal experience building a career, becoming a mother and juggling work and life. While I admire her accomplishments, maybe even envy her a bit, I couldn't overlook the sacrifices that she and her family have made because of her career. Her husband worked two hours away for awhile, leaving her in Taipei with two sons. She also spent two years in the U.S. with her sons, while her husband remained in Taiwan. Yes, it was hard for her, but I couldn't help wondering how it affected her sons to be without a father for so long ... and how her husband felt about it.

After lunch, I met my two new Taiwanese friends, and they accompanied me to the Child and Juvenile Adoption Information Center. At first, it seemed like the intermediary didn't have any new information. But then it all started tumbling out. It's crazy how small details -- like my birth mother's birth date -- can fill in blanks in my history, such as how old she was when she had me. I need to time absorb all the new information, but it includes learning I have not one, but two half brothers.

There was also more today: the reflexologist and dinner at a place famous for beef noodles. All good stuff, but my head is full, and I need to just think awhile. I will try to write about the other stuff tomorrow.

My final thought is one of gratitude for the new Taiwanese friends I have met. It helps me feel connected, even though I don't quite fit in. I hope one day to be able to repay their kindness and generosity.

Child and Juvenile Adoption Center

Retail therapy

Comfort food: Beef noodle soup.