Interviewing Ian

Despite the fact that I have a fairly steadfast belief in self-determination as to how my life is steered, I must concede that some part of life as an odd mixture of fate, luck, and predestination. This is especially true of who you meet along the way. Out of all situations I might have ended up in my late twenties, I wouldn't have expected that I'd be living in an ethnically rare household. Juls, a Korean American, is Jewish, but doesn't practice. And Ian, an Indian American, is a practicing Catholic whose parents speak Portuguese. And I suppose, I am a comparative rarity myself: Taiwanese Americans are a minority, even amongst Asian immigrants. And yet, we hardly ever bring up these differences. We share a common American culture, and thus, our conversations are dominated by how to start an Antarctican Beer Company, the merits of texas hold'em, and whether there's a name for womens' deltoidal arm fat, just like there's a name for belly fat billowing out from under clubbing attire ('Muffintops', by the way). I honestly don't know too much about Goa, where Ian's parents are from, or where in Korea Juls grew up. I'm sure they didn't know too much about where I was from either. In that way, there is a slight--though arguably insignificant--cultural gap. On this particular day, Ian was lying on the couch, inhabilitated, while I was typing on my laptop. I looked over at him. Me: What's with you? You look like you're tired. Ian: . . .No, My allergies are killing me. Me: It's probably karmic retribution, the same way that it came back and slapped you in the face with some poison ivy. About a year ago, Ian decided to help out with a volunteer program. He had asked me if I wanted to go help also. "Are they cute?" I asked. Ian replied that it was for a old peoples' home. I flatly declined. He was tasked with pulling out weeds from bushes that lines elderly housing. What they didn't tell him was that it was choke full of poison ivy. He came back, itching all over his arms, chest, and especially what he described as "gonorrhea of the eyes." I told him that's what he gets for helping people. While not as bad as the time he had poison ivy, he seemed pretty incapacitated by allergies. It was in this wretched state of body and mind while lying on the couch that I decided it was a good time to bridge the cultural gap and interview him. Me: Hey Ian. What do you know about Taiwan? Ian: . . . Me: Hey, what do you know about Taiwan? Ian: . . . It's far. Me: That's it? Ian: It's by China and Korea, somewhere around there. I can't say I blame him. Most people don't know where Nepal is. I didn't exactly get it straight that the Dutch live in Holland, which is one and the same as the Netherlands until last year. Me: But what about the people and the culture? Ian: I've never seen any movie set in Taiwan, so I don't know what it looks like. Me: Ok. Ian: And I've never had taiwanese food...so they must not eat anything. Me: I can assure you that they're quite well fed, but go on. Ian paused. Ian: They have...carnivals... Me: Carnivals? Ian: No, no...what do you call it...conferences. Yes. Conferences. They get together alot. I was amused. He didn't know anything else about Taiwan, so he was just thinking of whatever I did. Consider myself only moderately involved the Taiwanese American community, I was surprised it stood out. Me: "Anything else?" Ian: "They drink soy milk and eat durian" ~shudders~ I laugh maniacally. There are two things that are kryptonite to Ian. Soy milk and durian, and I happen to be the person that introduced him to both. Durian is a fruit that has a unique smell--like sewage, but it tastes very full and buttery, with a meaty aftertaste--heavenly. But Ian had it and vowed to never try it again--he couldn't get the smell out of his head. I tried to get him to eat it a second time. "Look, even Charlie's (the dog) is eating it. That means it's good." He quipped, "Well, Charlie also licks his butt. That's not saying much." Since he was just wildly extrapolating, I resorted to asking him rhetorical questions. Me: Did you know that the current tallest building in the world is in Taipei, Taiwan? Ian: Oh, I knew that. It's like that double thing with the walk across...that was in a movie too...with Sean Connery...Entrapment? Me: No no. That building's in Mayalsia. Ian: Oh, so I didn't know that. That lead to looking up a map of Taipei in Google Earth. Ian: Google didn't put in the building info for the city of Taipei. Me: I just don't know what street it's on. I guess you can find it on the map. Ian: Haha, how? Unless there's a big shadow by it, it'd just look like a rectangle. Me: haha. Of course, since we're both programmers, talk always veers to technology for one reason or another. Me: Did you know that major motherboard manufacturers, like Abit, are Taiwanese companies? Ian: Is Asus? Me: Um...yes. they are. So if Taiwanese didn't make motherboards, we wouldn't have any. Ian: Well, I'm not sure that's entirely accurate...haha, but I'm sure something similar is. After a while, for people that have a hard time explaining the nuances of culture, we always resort to talking about food. Me: Did you know that Bubble tea drink originated in Taiwan? Ian: Mmm...no. I actually thought it was Vietnamese, cuz they have them at Vietnamese restaurants. Maybe if the Taiwanese opened some restaurants, they'd get some credit for stuff. Me: Hahaha. Some cultures are heavy into their culinary heritage. The Taiwanese, like their neighbor culinary heavyweights like China, Thai, Korea, and Japan, are also notorious for loving food. Growing up, family life centered around food and the kitchen, and when I would come home, the question isn't, "How are you?", but rather, "Have you eaten yet?" When visiting relatives in Taiwan, food was the means to communicate hospitality--the more the better. I imagine this is true of other countries that had strong culinary heritages. Given that, I really didn't know exactly what staple Taiwanese food was, but I knew that the Taiwanese loved their stinky tofu and bah-tzang. Me: So what do you think Taiwanese food is like? Ian: I guess like Thai, cuz it starts with the same letter...but...it's prolly closer geographically to Korea? Me: Not really. Ian: What's it have borders with? Me: The Pacific Ocean. Ian: So seafood? Taiwanese eat a lot of seafood probably. And saltwater. The boy's a genius. Me: So you're like, zero for zero. Ian: What?! Me: What do you mean, "what?!"? You knew nothing, except that it's far. Ian: That counts. I got one right. And so, it was decided we'd grab Juls and another friend to go to eat dinner at a Taiwanese restaurant that night. I picked Bob's Noodle in Rockville. Looking at the menu, they had the standard pork, beef, and chicken dishes, as well as the more unusual, sea cucumbers, jellyfish, and duck tongue. Looking at the odd array of cuisines, Ian exclaimed, "I can't believe you've been hiding this place from me this whole time! We'll have to come back and try everything." I wondered if he'll run into another durian-like food and blame it on me. Me: So I very well might be the first Taiwanese that you know. Ian: Well, the first notable one. Me: Haha, well by that, you mean, 'notorious' Eating and laughing over three cup chicken, pig ears, peppered beef, shitake mushroom tofu, stinky tofu, and a meat-pie, we were that much closer to each other that night. And perhaps Ian had a point. Maybe there should be more Taiwanese restaurants. The way to recognition isn't just through rallies, protests, and petitions of those in power. Just as important is to involve ordinary citizens in Taiwanese culture. Food is the language between peoples; to share your food is to share your culture, and through cuisine, I believe it is possible to move peoples' hearts and minds. When's the last time you've taken your friends to a Taiwanese restaurant? Wil Chung is a programmer at a start-up. He takes refuge with two roommates and a dog named Charlie. If he could have any super power, he would want to be able to teleport, so he'd never have to buy plane tickets. He keeps a tech blog at http://webjazz.blogspot.com.

Bubble Tea and the Age of Identity

The other day, I was touring Chicago with my sister at Millenium Park. The Big Shiny Bean and the warm weather made it a great day to be in an underground theatre watching the Hubbard Street Dance Chicago work their modern dance magic. Like secondhand smoke, is there such a thing as secondhand exercise? Because after watching other people flinging sweat, we were sure we had exercised too. To alleviate the thirst, we went to Argo, a tea house with hobbit-esque decor that screamed, "We are the Starbucks of Tea!" So when perusing through the menu, I was surprised to see bubble tea on the menu. Bubble tea, a sweet, fruity and forthy tea mix with its characteristic gi-normous tapioca balls, at a trendy American tea house, of all things! It was familiar with most Asian Americans, but to be at a mainstream American tea place is to have come a long way from the corner stand drink from Taiwan. I first heard of it in college, and it was a favorite hangout amongst Asian Americans on campus. It would even be something to get together for: "Hey, wanna go get bubble tea?"--often said in the same way that salon patrons ask each other if they wanted to identify random passages of poetry to pass the time. To me, bubble tea was, like poetry, always a niche thing; something that the average American would not experience unless they were looking for it, or they happen to have convincing friends. Tapioca isn't in the normal diet of American cuisine, and nor did I expect it to be. It was this same lack of expectation that befuddled me when my parents called me up one day and asked me to buy them "a CD player dancing thing." It took me 30 minutes on the phone to figure out that they wanted to play Dance Dance Revolution (DDR). I expressed my incredulation. "It's good to exercise," stated my parents with a matter-of-fact aerobic justification. But just as I was wrong about DDR, I was wrong about bubble tea. If I see it at Argo, I might start to see it everywhere, at an AppleBees or TGIF. On one hand, I was glad that bubble tea was gaining mainstream acceptance. But on the other, I felt that it was unfortunate that it was not called "Taiwanese Bubble Tea", just as you have "Belgium Waffles", "Italian Ice", and "French Fries" (though the French attribute fries to the Belgians) in American lingo. Sovereignty is a complex topic. But between lay persons, such as me and my friends, the question asked of me is usually, "What's the difference between Taiwan and China?" I'm not sure that I could tell them right off the bat. Though there's a shared heritage, there are differences in culture. Taiwan has been separated from China for quite a while now. Not only is there geographic separation as an island, but it also had a string of invasive influences from the Dutch and the Japanese that was different from China's history of invasive influences. In addition, there have been two different types of government administrating public affairs. These things added up will produce different cultures. Even young people I've met living in Taiwan that have met young people from China has said there was a distinct difference--a difference that surprised them. But it's hard for me to say succinctly what the differences are, even as someone that considers himself moderately involved in the Taiwanese American community. For me, this is quite simply that there are no easy cultural icons that Taiwan is known worldwide. It would be nice if I could say, "Taiwanese Bubble Tea" and the other person would reply, "Ahh, that's right." The only things I could think of that Taiwan is really known for are green tea sets and motherboards--and that is only in the tea and motherboard circles. For those not immediately invested in Taiwan (by heritage or otherwise), it would be even harder and take more of an effort to see what the differences between China and Taiwan are. If the Taiwanese for independence wish to elicit help from others, then they must make it easy for others to help them. To have a sharp cultural line drawn between Chinese and Taiwanese culture would significantly make it easier for others to make the first step in being interested and invested in the China-Taiwan situation. It would do well for any Taiwanese, for independence or otherwise, to heavily invest in the arts, music, and cuisine in Taiwan. Patronage to Taiwanese art galleries and cinema showings would hopefully produce more Jimmy Liaos. Promote Taiwanese food fairs and its appreciation for great food that leaves both you and your wallet full. And yes, Jay Chou really is hotness that should be shared around the globe. That said, the idea is not to segregate, what is and isn't Taiwanese, and it is not to artifically declare something as being 'very Taiwanese' or 'not Taiwanese'. To do that is to force a culture onto people, and a culture for the sake of having a culture will be as plastic as planting fake plants. Instead, celebrate what Taiwan already has and to cultivate what it will develop, much like watering seeds in a garden. Let it grow on its own, and people will naturally identify with it and make it their own. Maybe one day, it will be as common to see Jay Chou perform at Madison Square Garden as it is to see bubble tea at TGIF. Wil Chung is a programmer working at a start-up, powered by ramen and vegetables. In his spare time, he muses to himself and wonders if everything will turn out alright. He digests research papers for fun and is a fan of potato chips. He keeps a tech blog at http://webjazz.blogspot.com.