The end

Sometime in the beginning of last week I started to experience the psycho-emotional effects of the fact that my time here was nearly over.  Menno, the former Dutch ambassador whose office is in the same suite as mine, asked me a few days ago if I was feeling sad yet, and I acknowledged that I was.  What he didn't ask was whether I was sad because I was leaving, or sad because I was going back to the US.  That would be a harder question to answer.  It's certainly a little of both.  But even that doesn't fully explain what I'm feeling.  The truth is that I have a fair amount of ambivalence on both sides of that equation -- I'm a little sad and a little happy on both counts, for different reasons.

The ambivalence about leaving reflects mostly my ambivalence about Taiwan more generally.  If I'm happy to be leaving, it's mostly because I'll be glad to stop climbing four flights of stairs every time I return to my room, and to get away from the constant sound of traffic as well as the hot humid weather which is now very definitely on its way, and beyond that, I guess it's just that it's been enough time here, and I'm ready to move on to something else.  On the other hand, life here has been pretty good, not a lot of expectations or pressure and lots of flexibility to do what I wanted.  Once I got settled in -- adjusted to my living circumstances, learned where to go to get food, developed the kind of "variable routine" I tend to build into my life wherever I am, and figured out how to keep the ants (mostly) at bay -- things were all in all fairly easy and enjoyable.  My normal day, as usual, has included a mix of reading news/information on-line, processing emails, getting work done on the papers I'm writing and the presentations I've had to prepare, reading and commenting on things for students back at USC, and -- OK, I'll admit it -- usually a game or two of spider solitaire (or as I like to call it, the devil's game!) somewhere along the way.  All those "normal" days have been punctuated by a number of trips, to Taipei, Taichung, Kinmen, Kaohsiung, and Kenting, with opportunities to see a number of former students who I am fond of.  And in the midst of all that, there've been a few interesting outings and good dinners with Yungnane and his family -- the fireworks for the Festival of Lanterns, riding bikes at Cijin Island, eating the still-alive sea urchin, and plenty of others that I've written about.  Saturday, we had our last little trip together, at least for this time around. 

They picked me up a little after 9 AM and we went first to this little breakfast place we'd been to once before, a very busy place where the ladies cook their food right out on the sidewalk in front and you squeeze in between the stoves on one side and the table with all the hot food on the other, grab what you want, line up to pay for it, and then go find a place to sit down.  After a little green onion pancake thing and some veggie dumplings, along with a soy milk, we were on our way.  We headed north on the freeway, turned east towards the mountains, climbed up a few hundred meters and came to a little town that had a number of hot spring spas, where we were going to spend the next few hours.  The facility had gender-separated indoor rooms with a hot pool, small cooler tub, and wet and dry saunas, as well as a gender-mixed outdoor facility where we spent most of our time.  A main attraction out there was the mineral mud you could smear all over your body, which we all did, and the boys did multiple times.  There was one hot pool where you could get in with the mud on your body, so that the water itself was saturated with those minerals.  There was also another "clean" hot pool and then a cool pool, so we rotated among those.  There was also a big swimming pool, and even though it wasn't a hot day, swimming around for a bit felt good.  Then there was maybe the most unique part of the experience -- sitting with your feet in a pool where a bunch of little fish come and nibble the dead skin off.  I figured why not, so I sat there for awhile as they nibbled away -- it was a little ticklish but other than that not a big deal.  The fish ranged in size from about an inch to a big one about 4-5 inches long, and I could definitely feel it when it was him who was doing the nibbling!

We spent about three hours at the spa, then headed over to a restaurant on the side of the road heading back down the hill, with a view out over the river valley back behind us.  The restaurant's specialty was chicken, which they cooked as a whole, I think by dipping it into a big pot of what I presume was boiling water, although I don't know if there were any seasonings in the water.  I do know that they removed the insides of the bird and stuffed it with garlic gloves and a bunch of leaves -- think the equivalent of big bay leaves -- to add some flavor, and then we dipped the meat into a pepper seasoning.  When I say whole chicken, I mean with head and feet, which came on the tray with the rest of the chicken, albeit already chopped off.  I guess I wasn't entirely surprised to learn that they don't eat the head, as that seemed a little extreme even for folks who do eat shrimp and fish heads (one of the other dishes they ordered included fried little fish and shrimp that they ate whole -- I passed on that).  But Yungnane did say they all liked chicken feet, which I think is pretty normal in Chinese culture, although I didn't notice if anyone ate these particular feet.  We had other dishes along with the chicken and the shrimp/fish plate, including one made with mountain pig which, when they told me that, I said, kind of questioning, "shan zhu" which I knew was the literal translation of those two words, and Yungnane looked pleasantly surprised and said "yes, that's right!"  There were two green veggie dishes of things I'm not sure I've had before but both tasty, one served hot with garlic mixed in and the other served cold with mayonnaise (go figure) spread on the top.  And Yungnane and I split a big Taiwan beer, which tasted pretty good after all the sweating we did back at the spa.

Before heading back to Tainan, we stopped at a funky place where some kind of crack in the earth had created both a little spring as well as the release of some natural gas that burns continuously -- the sign said the place was first discovered (at least by a Chinese guy -- I bet the indigenous folks on the island knew about it before then) back in 1701.  It's crazy that that fire's been burning for at least 300 years, but for all we know, maybe it's been burning for 300,000!  We lingered at that spot for awhile, including a few purchases of food or drink from one or another of the many store/restaurants lining the walkway out to the Water Fire spring, and got back into the car at about 5:30.  It was a sleepy ride back to Tainan, but I got alert for long enough to get a picture of an amazing orange sun burning through the haze as it lowered towards the horizon.  We pulled into town just as it was setting, and since I wasn't yet ready for dinner, we decided instead to go get some coffee and a pastry.  With Yungnane and I both awake now, his wife started asking for my thoughts on some interesting questions about religion, the 2012 scenario, UFOs, etc., so we chatted about all sorts of serious topics as we ate our snacks and I shared with them some of my crazy ideas about what I think is going on on the planet.  Of course, Yungnane had to translate everything I said in order for her to understand, so I have no idea what actually got transmitted as my response to any of her questions. 

As we headed back towards my dorm, Yungnane pointed out the building where his wife takes painting lessons.  That was noteworthy since, when they arrived in the morning, they presented me with a painting that she had painted -- quite lovely, actually, some purple mountains behind a tree-lined lake.  When they gave me the painting, they also gave me a pencil drawing that Jack had done, I think an image of, or at least inspired by, one of the creatures from one of the fantasy games that kids play these days.  It's clear that they're both talented, which makes me wonder if or how it is that artistic talent is passed down genetically.  Yungnane and I agreed that we had precious little of it -- I told him that drawing stick figures still gives me a little trouble.  Anyway, as we approached the dorm, Yungnane was expressing his appreciation for my being here, and I guess I can tell that his family has also enjoyed having me around -- Jack, who is always being encouraged by his parents to talk to me in English -- decided to express his affection with a least one phrase he knew, chiming in from the back seat with a nice "I love you"!  We all got out of the car, I got my artwork out of the trunk, gave a hug to all four of them and said goodbye to his family. (I saw Yungnane briefly this morning to say goodbye).  I don't think you can spend that much time with people, under enjoyable circumstances I mean, without developing some bonds and attachments to them.  I suspect that's an inherent, essential property of our human-ness.  Which I guess is why the Buddha pointed out that "life is suffering."  Suffering is a direct result of our attachments, and in this case that suffering manifests as the sadness I feel at leaving behind some nice people who I am fond of and have shared good times with.

So, while it's fair to say that I have some ambivalence about leaving Taiwan, the strength of those emotions puts me closer to the "indifferent" side of the meaning of that word -- I could stay or I could go, and be fine either way.  In contrast, my ambivalence about returning to the US is much stronger in both directions, both looking forward to it and not.  The downside is dominated by my frustration with what Amerika has become as a country, and the miserably dysfunctional role our nation-state is playing in the community of nations.  Really, I am ashamed at this point to be an American -- I am dismayed by the progressive onset of the police state mentality, and by the stories I read about police brutality, TSA gropings, whistleblowers dying and disappearing, and other manifestations of government repression; I am horrified by the number of people we are killing in way too many countries around the world, and by the amount of depleted uranium we are spreading around those countries to destroy future generations as well; I am disgusted by our continuing support for industries that are destroying our planet, and by the lies our leaders tell us to cover-up how bad the problems are; I am angry at the sell-out mainstream corporate media who disseminate propaganda as though it were news, and at the gullible majority of the citizenry who still believe what they're being told; I am flabbergasted by how much of the American people's "wealth" has been stolen from them by the banksters, and by the fact that the people haven't really done a damn thing to try to stop them or make them "pay;" I am apprehensive about the coming collapse of the US dollar and all its economic ramifications, and about the effects all that will have on the people I love.

When I'm in the US, there's sort of a constant underlying buzz of cognitive dissonance in my consciousness, the disconnect between all those things I feel about the country and my actual presence there and participation in American society.  That disconnect is a big part of the reason why I have spent as much time out of the country as I have over the last number of years, especially after it was clear to me that 9/11 was a false flag event and that the bad guys had suckered us into believing that a new Crusade was necessary to retaliate against our purported enemies.  I'm tired of all the lies our government tells us to make us believe what they want us to believe, and to be honest, it is tiresome for me to live in a place where most people believe the lies and those who don't are ridiculed and discounted.  There's so much about this silly bin Laden story that doesn't add up, so much counter-factual evidence, so many signs that they're just BSing us, and yet it sounds like Americans are pretty much swallowing all it hook, line, and sinker.  And with the predictable "Al-CIAduh" threats to blow something up in retaliation, the fascists running the show now have a good excuse to "tighten security" some more, implement whatever new restrictions on our freedoms they feel like.  I've got to pass through security in American airports three times in the next month or so, and I'm not at all excited about that.  Even if/when getting through security is not a hassle, it's just an in-your-face reminder to me of all the bad things Amerika has become.  I resent the whole phenomenon, as an unconstitutional search "without probable cause." 

The fact that I'll be passing through three airports soon points to another reason why I have some emotional reluctance to return to the US.  The reality is that I'm only going to be there for a month before heading off to Europe for much of the summer.  So really, now is the time when being a nomad on sabbatical is going to get challenging.  Like I said, it has been pretty easy living here, things have been stable and organized, but from here on out things are going to be a little more up in the air about where I'm going and what I'll be doing.  I've got about a week and a half in LA, then another week in Phoenix, and then a conference in New York.  That's what is definite, and I know where I'm sleeping up until June 5.  But then I am going to be camping in the Adirondacks for a week before flying to Copenhagen to start traveling around Scandinavia for awhile.  I've booked a campsite for my first two nights camping in NY, but I've still got a lot of leg work to do to line up where I'm going to be staying in Norway, which is the first country I'll be traveling around.  So returning to the US means becoming a little "unsettled" if you will, plus having to allocate a bunch of time online to do the necessary planning.  I guess the bottom line is that my life gets more challenging upon leaving Taiwan, and it's hard to look forward to that.   

All that said, there are definitely some things I am looking forward to, some reasons why I'm excited to be getting back home.  I am most psyched about getting back out to Sylmar to play disc with J and Bryan and Boehm.  I've been pretty sedentary here, and there hasn't been a lot of "play" time, so I'm definitely looking forward to a little co-recreation!  I also have USC's graduation this week, which is why I set my return date for now.  Two of my PhD students, who I've been working closely with for a number of years, are graduating, so I definitely want to be part of that celebration with them.  Beyond those specifics, I'm looking forward to seeing friends and family, people I love and care about, folks I haven't had much communication with while I've been here.  As my frustration with America has grown over the years, and I've contemplated the possibility of trying to move somewhere else, I've realized that the toughest part of doing that would be leaving behind nearly everyone I care about, and being pretty much on my own wherever I chose to go.  Being on my own wouldn't necessarily be the tough part -- I'm OK with being alone at this point in my life.  But not being able to spend time with people I love, indefinitely, I think that would be hard. 

When we were talking over cake and coffee the other night about all the craziness that may be coming down the pike in the next 18 months, Yungnane assured me that if things go to hell in the US like I think they might, I was certainly welcome to come back to Tainan.  It is interesting that I have a stronger personal network here in Taiwan than I do pretty much anywhere else on this planet, in terms of the "social capital" I could draw on to help me stay alive, for example, if the world goes into survival mode.  That probably isn't entirely true, since I am tapped into the "Trojan family" and thus part of a strong community there.  But in the midst of LA, even that powerful network may not be able to get access to the key resources -- food, water -- people would need to stay alive.  Here in Taiwan, in terms of my own personal connections, good relationships with people who might go a little out of their way to help me out if need be, my network is pretty good, extending from Taipei to Kaohsiung with a number of points in between.  Not that Taiwan is the place I would most want to ride out the storm -- the northeast coast of Brasil seems much more enticing -- but one thing this island has going for it is that it could probably come pretty close to being self-sufficient in terms of food if circumstances forced them into that.  And one thing I will say about Taiwanese culture -- people that I interact with in stores and restaurants and wherever -- they tend to be cheery and polite with a ready smile.  When I mentioned that to Jose, he said that he was proud of his countrymen for having that quality.  So all in all, I think things would be a lot saner here than in LA if some kind of global chaos were to ensue.

I don't know if we are going to get to that point or not, and certainly I hope we can avoid it, but underlying all my other emotions about heading back to the US and into an uncertain future is my concern about the radiation spreading around the planet, the possibility/likelihood that it will continue to get even worse, and the reality that soon there may not be any real safe place to be.  A few weeks ago I started wondering if I should skip my Scandinavia trip, as I was wondering about the wisdom of walking around outdoors "unprotected" for all that time.  Given the location of Japan and the nature of the wind currents, it seems like the northern hemisphere may have it worse than the southern, at least for the time being, so I started thinking I should head south instead.  But I guess two things led me to conclude that there was no sense not going to Europe.  First, whatever the effects of radiation are, in terms of causing cancer, etc., I guess it is "probablistic" in the sense that it increases the risk of getting cancer but -- in the absence of a high enough dosage -- won't necessarily do so.  Since I am healthier than most people, and have some faith in the notion of "mind over matter" when it comes to health issues, I figure I have some control over whether or not I will suffer any long-term damage caused by whatever radiation is now circulating through the atmosphere.  Second, I guess I reached the point of realizing that the amount of uncertainty regarding what is happening, what will happen, how bad things will get, where things will be the worst, and all that, is high enough that it doesn't make a lot of sense to try to plan around it, and much more reasonable to just go ahead and live my life the way I want, the way I have it planned, and deal with whatever consequences whenever they come.  In short, it didn't seem like a good idea to bail on my trip just because of some vague fear about what is or isn't going to happen down the road.

So, barring any unforeseen events that preclude me from doing so, I'll be getting on a plane in about 24 hours, and then three hours earlier I'll be landing in LA (I love crossing the international dateline this direction, so you get to live a few hours of your life over again!).  I'm quite sure that I will be happy to be back, as I usually am, and I definitely look forward to sleeping in peaceful Santa Monica tomorrow night (even if it is in the little motel room -- bathroom down the hall -- that I've booked for the week).  Regardless of all my thoughts and feelings about the US as a country, I have to say I really do like living in Santa Monica, and it's always good to be there when I'm not somewhere else.  I also know that I'll be excited soon enough about heading east from there and to points beyond, on the continued adventure that awaits me in the midst of all this craziness unfolding on the planet.  I'm gonna go find some peaceful little Norwegian island above the Arctic Circle and spend the summer solstice contemplating the mysteries of the universe in the glow of the midnight sun!

Peace and love, everybody -- this is Peter in Taiwan, signing out.