Remember a day

Today, some people fasted. I ate bahtzang for lunch. Some people wore green, and I wore raspberry stinky tofu. Some people endured the rumbling of their stomachs, I listened to the noises in my head. Before today, I didn't really understand why people fasted on this day. I’ve known that people fast on February 28. I've seen pictures of green shirts bearing the message "I'm fasting today, ask me why." This year, I considered joining in on the fast, yet I didn't understand why people did it. It isn’t as if there was a great famine because of the riot rampaged through farms or the government shut down all food transportation. I poked around a little, and found no satisfactory answer. I admit I did not look very hard. In the end, I brushed it off. There were other reasons why I was reluctant to do it. I was afraid that people would ask me why. I don't like answering questions about myself and answering why I was fasting on the commemoration of an event that is Taiwanese falls under that category because I am Taiwanese. In the weeks leading up to today, I'd given great thought to this day. I’d done some research on the topic, from reading internet articles to seeking out and listening to people who were kids in 1947 Taiwan. As one of the very few Taiwanese in my community, I wondered how I could acknowledge this day without feeling out of place. My parents don't mark the day in any way special. What should I do? Wear all black? All green? A Taiwan related shirt? Make my own "I'm fasting" shirt and fast? Of course, everything would lead to those questions I didn't want to answer. This morning, I put on my raspberry Stinky Tofu t-shirt. As my hair was drying oddly, I grabbed some yogurt to eat on the go. After that, tests, mathematical equations, and stoichiometry kept my mind off of 228. But the shirt and I wouldn't let Taiwan slip away. The shirt itself attracted a lot of attention. Apparently the raspberry color compliments my skin tone, as I was told in both Spanish and English. The cartoon and its stinky tofu caption is both eye catching and puzzling. One particular friend was thoroughly confused by my shirt. She just did not get it. Stinky tofu? What's funny about that? I tried to explain that the stinky tofu is stinky and walks alone. It’s different, so it is independent. She interrupted me saying that it’s like having to explain a joke. If you have to explain it, it is not funny. The conversation soon ended. Then during lunch, another friend commented on my distinctly unique facial expressions. In order to entice me to look disgusted or angry, a couple of people started deliberately and jokingly saying things like "Taiwan is not an independent country and should be part of China.” While I unenthusiastically laughed it off, I wish now that I'd said something then. Or remembered the day then. After the day's classes ended, I went running with two guys. One is Taiwanese but less vocal than I about Taiwanese independence. The other is Caucasian and seems to think that the difference in views between me and the Taiwanese guy is amusing. I still didn’t think about the day when he fired off a few lame "my water bottle was made in Taiwan" type comments before we started our run. This evening, I read the a few thoughts of some of the day’s fasters. They wrote about reflection and being, identity and heritage, and the shaping that history does. I realized that the fasting is just a way to remind oneself and to get the message out. Some people go without food, others wear shirts, write, speak, just to remember what happened to trigger this. Jessica thinks about a variety of topics throughout the day. She likes colors and black and white. Jessica is currently training for a half marathon.

A Pummelo Story

When my dad was a young boy, younger than myself now, farmers in southern Taiwan would train monkeys to guard their crops, no doubt from little boys running around hankering for the taste of fresh picked pummelo or mango. However, my dad thought of a clever way to get around those monkeys. He would pick up a stone and throw to miss at the monkeys. The monkeys would get angry, grab the first throwable thing they could grab, and start chucking things back. These things would usually be the fruit from the tree they were sitting in and guarding. My dad would catch the fruit as it came hurtling through the air at him. If the fruit dropped on the ground, it would be bruised or smashed, so he became very good at catching, and throwing. That is why baseball became popular in Taiwan. Jessica is an avid fruit eater who is looking forward to bamboo shoot season. She braved 45 degree fahrenheit temperatures with a t-shirt and wet hair to photograph those monkeys, but the weather is picnic ready. Wednesday high of 22 F.