dr. frankenstein's helper, or, how i learned to love the screams

Happy belated Halloween to all!

Halloween is not a holiday typically celebrated in Taiwan, except by all of the cultural imports. If you think it's commercialized in North America and Europe (not in South Africa, where I'm told it's not celebrated), it's horribly so here, as that's the only reason the stores sell costumes and such. But it's fun, and the English bu xi bans (private schools) usually make a big deal out of it. Haunted houses, dressing up, and for our school, one of two rare days in the year where students don't need their books.

The foreigners also really get into it. Sure, there's the people who will wear a hat and say they're a witch, but because it's a sense of identity, of bringing something from home, like so many other things, people tend to go that extra mile. I saw some amazing costumes this year, and got a picture of as many as I could - a pair of perfect Blues Brothers (down to the sideburns), a couple of full-on astronauts, a guy who built a 7-foot-long jet out of paper mache, of which he was the pilot, a box of popcorn, three crayons, and more. There were even some Taiwan-contextual costumes - a Mormon in Taiwan, a stickyball, and the completely average Taiwan Man (Trudy, I think you basically know wha that costume was). One of my coworker's kids dressed as the girl from The Ring, complete with the part of the hair in the right place, and I swear she was giving me The Look from the movie. That really freaked me out.

However, heightened celebration comes at a price. This year, I wore my costume for four days straight (I was Igor). Two days were my own choice, but they were also the closest to Halloween and my real chance to show off. I didn't win any awards, but I got lots of compliments, and could even integrate my hunch into dancing, creating a new move known to me as "The Igor" (really only usable one night a year). I harassed kids at school (which I'm told went over really well), but nothing topped the Haunted House at the Mindful Phoenix, which I had committed to helping out with, despite doing the Igor until the sun was at an ungodly angle in the sky (which, when you have to rise at noon, is any angle in the sky).

There is nothing as sweet-sounding as the screams of absolutely terrified children.

Some may say that is a terrible statement, and that I am an ogre that feasts on the bones of children. To that I say - the meat is tender. No, really, harassing these children was really a blast, and some of the youngest were so freaked out that they wouldn't do anything, especially with me around. I made a good half-dozen of them cry, and many more of them hide behind parents' legs and whimper.

Fear is fun.

the one election post

Of course, on this day, we start with politics, normally regarded as a dry and dreary topic by most (not me, mr. dry-and-dreary-lover!), is on fire, what with us sitting on what could be regarded as one of the most important elections in history. People who spurn voting are getting out and waiting in lines to show their conviction. Fraudsters are out in record numbers, trying to flag their influence as they see fit. My American friends here are waiting with baited breath (the Canadians also seem to be following quite closely, though others (i.e. the English and South Africans) don't seem to care) - for some, it's the indication of whether they will head home sooner or later.

There's a bit of a pull here, too. Obviously, there are many people supporting Kerry, due to his non-Bushness (though Bush has his supporters here, too), but their Asian policies are quite different, which does make a difference to those who have developed an attachment to this area. The most direct one is the candidates China-Taiwan position. Kerry supports China-Taiwan reunification, while Bush has said that he will stand by the Taiwan Doctrine, which says that the US will help Taiwan defend itself against China (well, one hopes, in the light of recent comments...). These are some many-faced coins we're dealing with.

There's a lot more out there, things that you should go to more astute blogs to read about. Stories, conundrums, and pontifications that will make this one of the most recorded elections thusfar.

My stomach has been on edge all day. I have no idea what I will awaken to, but I wait with everyone else. As I found the other day after a particularly...rough night, the sun still rises. It's seen a lot of us, and will see more, and still do its job. I guess all I can do is keep at mine.

tears

The week has been halved. So has a country, a people, and an opinion.

I'm still using artificial tears, as my eyes get a little dry at times and in the mornings. With the events of this week, however, every drop that spills down my face feels like something stolen, something lost, something given up, something leaving. All of it is gone, with concession.

There's a line I have in Macbeth that has been running through my head all day. The realization of the wrong choice is nigh.

My mind [this] has mated, and amaz'd my sight
I think, but dare not speak.

hopping and jumping

It's been an up and down day - I saw an American friend moved to tears when she heard the news - but trust the blogs to make me laugh, being with a hopeless cynicism or a good belly laugh:

Mr. Yeti offers insight into more hairy men coming to Canada. Just what we need.

Joey shows that the healing may take a while...

Mena has an idea for, um, border redevelopment (thanks Lana!)

Dong's none too pleased, either.

And lastly, the inimitable cardhouse leaves us with a poignantly cynical thought. (see Nov. 4, 04)

Enjoy your day!

know your customs

A word to the wary: Flowers are always nice, but when you buy them, you should first find out whether or not they are viewed as funeral flowers by the culture you live in.

I mean, come on, purple and yellow? Death? Phhhbt.

It helps your case when the receiver doesn't know, either.

right on time

Ryan-time, that is.

Igor was a big hit this year. You can't see the hump very well in this picture, but it's there - it was one of the best parts of the costume, actually. I had many people at the bar 'doing the Igor'. The foot-dragging walk was my favourite part.

I already know my plans for next year (and, tentatively, next next year). If you know where to find grass skirts (brown) and/or a bowler hat (rounded - are there any other kinds?), you could be my new best friend.

exposure (but in a good, legal kind of way)

Cultural exposure and absorption is a relative thing.

I've spent months revelling at the influences these kids can have in their lives. English teachers from all over the planet (I have friends from the six generally populated continents here, all teaching) give them experiences and nuances that they may have never experienced ever. From accents to sports teams to new games that we were raised with to new ideas about how to use language, it's possible to give a lot to these kids.

Another wave came when I was at the Mindful Phoenix on a Saturday, watching kids run around and learn African tribal music and dance and put together a small drama production. I commented on the exposure to a friend, and she pointed out that really, it's not that special. When I countered with the outstanding influences exerted upon them, she pointed out that we don't notice things like that from where we're from because they're built in, as such. Chinatown, Little Italy, and thousands of cultural bits and pieces carving out niches all over. There's no Americatown here, no Canadian ghetto, no Little South Africa. Multiculturalism has become so transparent in North American and European life (and in other places, I'm quite sure) that, well, we take it for granted.

Sometimes it feels really weird, though, putting forth the 'traditional' reasoning behind these holidays, when those traditions have been all but abandoned by the general populace back home. Everything's just another angle, and it's doubly so here, since there isn't really any belief/following by the majority. They do it because of cultural creep - it bleeds out from books and movies and exerts its own particular pressure. And since I'm sure that Love Day will come soon as another excuse to trot out more crap for people to buy, that pressure will continue to build.

Anyway, I'm keeping up my end of the deal. The kids got Saskatchewan Roughriders, stories about late and early snow, and exposure to such fantastic bands as Me First and the Gimme Gimmes and Rancid (Poison - "It's, um, a song about bad people. What did you think?" "It's fast!"), and oh so many jokes of mine. That line of 'if it wasn't for me, no one would laugh at my jokes' rings even truer in an ESL classroom. You've gotta find an outlet someway.

dramatis personae

As opening night draws near (less than 48 hours!), I find myself growing more and more excited. Oh, for Macbeth, that is. Did I mention I'm in Macbeth? I hope I did.

I've heard stories of actors growing tired and bored of scripts as shows progress, till it gets to the point where they detest what they are performing and cannot wait to finish it. Our forward-thinking director wisely adopted a short schedule (two months from auditions to final performance) - I know I'd prefer a heartfelt performance with a flubbed line or cue to a perfect, but cold, showing. I know I feel a fire coursing through me every time I perform it. I love delivering the lines with the bile, fear, disgust, or rage that I know they were intended to have. I am by no means an actor, but I think years of practicing lying did help this moment.

Watching the characters unfold is a special treat for me. Back in high school, I remember my first (erm, and only) exposure to Shakespeare - Hamlet, Macbeth, a Midsummer Night's Dream. I loved it, the plots and twists making their faces known, the characters changing, the elements of the supernatural watching over it all. Predictably, it was not a draw to everyone - anywhere from 30% to 70% of the class slept through readings - which was fine by me. More reading, and the teacher gave all of the assistance a budding mind needed, if you only listened.

But all this was only reading. Having these actions, these thoughts and emotions playing themselves out through my friends, in their faces, bodies, and words gives the play another dimension. Understanding it not by watching it, but by participating in it. Damn, it's fun.

And through the repitition, you find truths. That old line they fed you about why we still study Shakespeare? Because of his study and story of the human condition? Damn, it's true. In conversation the other night, Colin Powell was compared to my character in Macbeth - a potentially good soul making a choice for career over conscience. All his talk of love, ambition, right and wrong - and it's doubly redoubled (for me) through the acting - there's an unmeasurable chasm between simply saying lines and knowing what they mean and expressing them to others.

And, accordingly, in their respective rewards.

turn the key

Sometimes you just have to take what has been and accept that it is finished. That roads lead to other roads, but don't always stay around for you to drive down again. That a missed turn can come around in a circle, or can fade into the distance.

And all you can do is keep driving, trying to balance your map, music, drink, and the kids in the back without ending up a mess. And when you stop for gas, and the attendent asks you where you're headed, the answer can be a shaky stammer or a rebellious, confident assurance of, "Not really sure."

Driving scares many people out here. I love it.

by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes

Aaaaand scene.

Well, it's done. I finished my first show of my first big dramatic production, and no one died. One stuttered line and one almost-missed entrance, and otherwise, pretty damn good for me. Which is pretty good for me, my largest fear in starting drama being forgetting lines. Singing isn't a problem, it's talking that gets me. Macbeth the Musical would be fantastic.

The emotions that I spoke about earlier were running high tonight, really helping the play to 'show up'. Nervousness was not a factor - I play to my own audience, usually the toughest crowd. And they always end up at that zenith - by the end, when I confront Macbeth, I really am ready to kill him. I think our fight gets the prize for most intense, as (IMHO) it seems the least choreographed and the most emotional. I'm always grunting and spitting venom (er, sometimes literally, oops).

And as for the rest of the group involved - I've found my real Taiwan family. Just as I have my actual family and comforting close-knit patchwork collection of friends in Saskatchewan, and my barbershop family in Ottawa, I've found my brothers and sisters, cousins and drunk uncles in Taiwan.

It's good to be home.

i'm eight years old again

Reading an article on a dinosaur that gave birth instead of laying eggs, I realized that the museum that they were talking about was the National Science Museum here in Taiwan, which I visited a couple of months ago. This was the museum that made me excited about dinosaurs again. I saw the display that they reference in the article, and they actually had new displays and fossils in the museum - for once, a dinosaur exhibition that wasn't as old as the dinosaurs.

Well, I came back extolling the virtues of dinosaurs, stomping around the room doing dinosaur impressions (which, to 12- and 13-year-olds, is actually funny. Kids love it when you're an ass), roaring like the robot T-rex, and so on. The younger kids really enjoyed it, especially the ones who liked dinosaurs already.

Er, so anyway, Taiwan has cool things. The end.

on not being cool

So I'm pursuing a new girl. This is something I wouldn't normally post here, keeping my personal life off the net, especially with relatives reading (hi Mom! hi Dad!), but I'm at a loss.

She's wonderful, intelligent, talented, beautiful, articulate - all the good things that someone would want. That's not the problem. Everyone I know who knows her keeps telling me to take it really, really slow with her. She's a tough nut to crack. Be her buddy first. And I don't have a problem with that. While moving slow is something new to me, she's worth it.

My problem is with myself. I don't know how to go slow. Being cool is not part of my social arsenal. I got some great advice on the subject last night, possibly the best I've ever heard. "You know, you can say you're going to go slow until you're blue in the face, and still not know what you're doing. The real test of whether you're on the right track or not is whether you're thinking about it. If you're worried about it, analyzing what you're doing and what she's saying or not saying, you ain't taking it slow, buddy." Which is exactly what I'm doing (the bad element, not the good element.)

However, I don't know how to change gears out of that. As far as I see myself, I need some kind of emotional involvement to stay interested. If I'm not attached to something, I just let it go. There isn't really a lukewarm Ryan about many things - I'm generally an all or nothing kind of guy. If I don't want someone as a friend, they aren't. If I have a passion for something, I'm all in. I lose interest very quickly in things that don't enrapture me.

I also tend not to risk people. Things are things, they come and go, but the people who come into my life are always unique and generally worth keeping. I'd rather keep a basic friendship relationship with them than risk it for the higher-level, but more risky, romance. Every time, I choose that, and it's not a habit I'm going to break - I don't want to. Consequentyly, this is probably part of the reason why I have a very large contingent of female friends.

And so I guess I'm asking for some advice out there. I know I have some pretty suave friends (and some really big geek friends) who know how to do it. I'm just afraid of letting out too much line and losing the rod, the boat, and the fish.

This still feels weird. No, wait. This feels debasing. I'm asking for advice on how to be cool on the Internet. Oh well, no one ever said I was, um, cool. And there are cool people on the Internet (please see the links on the sidebar for reference. And so many more.)

the end of an era

Today, I wore pants.

Now, you may say this is not so unusual. I wish that were true. For you see, today was the first day that I have worn pants since April.

Yes, the carefree days of shorts are over here in Taiwan. Sigh. In the immortal words of Homer Simpson, "Don't you hate pants?"

Also, as an aside, thanks for the advice, but it was all for naught. Sigh. In reflection, however, I finally gained insight, very shortly before it became irrelevant, on what taking it slow exactly means. Maybe it'll come in handy in the future.

Drain in the Floor®

Cleaning the bathroom is not usually anyone's favourite chore. When you think about what goes on in there, it's understandable. Plus, there's all the reaching. Much better activities fill my mind, and therefore usually come first.

However, that inevitable day arrives when it's gotta be done. Taiwan bathrooms, however, afford a unique opportunity for cleaning: they're completely open. I've mentioned before and even shown pictures about the open showers - no shower curtains, water just goes everywhere. Well, that can work in your favour. The key to success is The Drain in the Floor®. To be honest, I want one when I go home.

You see, cleaning a bathroom becomes the easiest thing in the world when you completely gear down, take a showerhead and a sponge, warm up your singing voice with the showerhead/imaginary microphone*, and start scrubbing. I think I covered every square inch of that bathroom yesterday. And it all heads down that wonderful little Drain in the Floor®. There's no moving furniture, no worrying about getting the floor wet, no need for a mop: you have a Drain in the Floor®.

Suddenly, cleaning the bathroom is fun again.

*Best practiced when you're home alone.

why i'm not here

Hi there. I know you've been thirsting (well, in my fantasy, you've all been waiting with baited breath) for more, but, as one of my online inspirations, Leila has related, magical things happen when you make them happen. She also has a very relevant notion about not turning away when a bag of magic is placed in front of you which I try to abide by. Can't find it, though. (The quote, not the bag of magic. I've had a few bags of magic lately.)

Here's some of the reasons/excuses I've been busy.

1) Girls. Let's just say, life is easier without them. Well, my life. Well, less stressful. Well, less fun, really.

2) I've spent every night the past week out, drinking and talking. Drama, playrights, musicals, relationships, blah blah blah. Not bad for a guy who credits himself as non-social. Hard work, though, that. And KTV. Oh man, the KTV night. It's a good thing I was taking the pictures.

3) I finally started yoga again after almost two weeks off due to an injured hamstring. Routine is taken for granted until you break it.

4) Our final performaces of Macbeth were sold, oversold, and filled beyond what we thought was super-capacity. And it went well. Of course, my lines went perfect when there were half shows, and not in the full shows, but the show goes on. I'll try and get some video someday.

5) I played my best Euchre game ever this week - a 0-9 deficit comeback rally to win 10-9 in six hands, which is no small feat. If I may say so myself. Which I just have. I almost won my tab that night. Sweet.

6) Reading Tom Stoppard's Arcadia, a wicked little piece by the author of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Because, you know, I have so much spare time. Honestly, I've found reading plays to be fantastically entertaining (as long as they're good). I'd never read a play for non-study prior to two months ago, and now I've read three for fun! And entertainment! And there's no test afterwards!

7) Though this isn't really why I haven't been writing, I feel the need to share with you. I've mentioned the National Science and Technology Museum before, but today I went not by myself, but accompanied by my young class (in addition to all the other teachers and their classes). And I have to say that, in an environment with lots of buttons and not much to read (being Chinese and all. The writing, not me), I am at least as bad as the kids. I let go of hands and ran over to exhibits, trying to be the first to push to buttons before the kids. I didn't push anyone over, I'm not that crass. I'm the teacher - I just told them to stop while I sauntered over. It's good to be the king.

8) Lastly, eating in restaurants that seem like they very well may have been shut down, had they been located in West Vancouver as opposed to here. Good food, too. Just cause it don't smell good, don't mean it don't taste good.*

*This sentence brought to you by my kids. Actually, they'd probably add 'have' in at least once.

I hope to get something original, researched, and/or creative on here soon. So keep baiting that breath!

correction

Eight nights.

However, a friend once told me that they heard that some of our closest bonds were formed based on how late we stayed up with people. Sketchy info at best, but I'm inclined to believe it. That person that you did the night shift with at your burger-slopping McJob? A best friend. The classmate that you stayed up all night finished that stupid assignment with? Always with you. Stayed up late on the beach, sipping beers and watching the sun rise? Like peas in a pod.

If it's true, I have:

a) set down some fantastic foundations for very close friendships
b) sweet, merciful justification

And if not, I'm on my way to hell in a handbasket.

i like to think i'm popular

Why is it that when you don't want them, interviews are offered to you? That's twice. It's like two slaps in the face, not just one.

God is teasing me, just like he teased Moses in the desert.

Eh, I have no regrets.

flashy flashy

Although I have not done nearly as much traveling recently as in my first nine months here, my brother has kept the tradition going strong with his adventures down in Australia. I've finally added links to a couple of older galleries on the left (they're all really quite nice), and he's got two more on the main gallery page that are still raw. You're free to look, though. No fingerprints on the pictures, please.

I've got some in reserve that I have to go through to try and give some meager competition. That being said, are you, the viewing public, interested in pictures of the people in my life? Entertaining poses and/or particularly nice shots would be the composition of such pictures. Or are you only interested in beautiful landscapes and chinglish signs?

I'll try for more stuff soon. I've got a few back-burner entries, as Emily recently lamented. Typing takes too much time. I need a thought reader.