Reitaku Christmas Special/A day at the Beijing Opera

So Xmas has finally arrived here in Taiwan, though it generally just feels like any other weekend for me. Of course, these days I’m more concerned about my upcoming jaunts to Japan and China.

The Reitaku residence management-type people, ie the Taiwanese, organized a Xmas party on the 25th, although it began to feel more little a Halloween séance. Why you ask? How could the innocent Taiwanese come up with such a thing on Christmas? Let me put this way. First, were forbidden from entering the basement until all the ceremonial equipment was in the proper astrological alignment (or just covering up the leak from the broken pipe in the wall by the bathroom). Second, we were allowed to enter only one by one, with numbers being attached to each hand as we progressed through the doorway and were each given a plate of sacrificial wafers and Devil’s food cake. Once all had gathered in the room, three virgins (I think) wearing red medieval hats, and one the amputated horns of a reindeer began the introduction to the ceremony. This was followed by the playing of a series of quick shots of various members in the room, in rapid succession mixed with some dialogue, which was interrupted mysteriously, turning off completely by itself (perhaps because of a mischievous spirit in the room or because of the aforementioned leaky pipe which has been known to create inexplicable large pools in the wires under the television, though perhaps these were also due to a mischievous spirit with a weak bladder.) Next, we assembled into two interwoven, pentacle-like circles, and were instructed to dance a series of moves, exchanging partners and moving about in the circle, which were wholly incomprehensible to any mortal. When the dancing was done, all were given a candle, and with the lights out, we placed them at our feet around the circle, creating the atmosphere of a Wiccan airport landing strip, as we began chanting in Chinese. I do not know the words exactly, that were spoken that fateful night, but generally they can be translated as this:
“SANTA….. SAN----TA------…… SANTA, We summon thee!…. Come into our presence, SANTA----….. SANTA we beseech thee….Come!”(I would like to point out here, as Dana Carvey so cleverly pointed-out as “The Church Lady” on SNL so many years ago, that Santa is a clever anagram of another famous figure from Judeo-Christian mythology, whose name you can get by simply moving the N to end of Santa’s name.) The chanting continued for some minutes in the darkness, until we were reassembled in the shame of a pentagram, while some including myself were instructed to close our eyes less we be driven to madness by the horrific sights that no doubt lay out before us. Shao tin, the residence manager and high-priest of mystical activities, was also blindfolded but continued to lead the service, reciting a series of verses, the only part I was able to decipher, with the aid of an undercover Czech translator, was the word “touch” or “touched” that was used with a great deal of frequency. Suddenly, music became playing from nowhere, and in the doorway stood an eerie figure, clad only in red his face obscured in beard. He looked the type of creature that would do things like elicit young children to sit on his knee, but then he also looked like Kevin, the guy who usually fixes everyone’s computer. Surely Kevin would never be involved in such unholy acts! Though I had once caught him dressed as a dead and bloody cat with an old picture frame, this time he did not seem like himself. He seemed to speaking with voice of another…like he was possessed by the spirit of Christmas itself!
Unfortunately, I had not the proper means to perform an exorcism with me, having left my jars of mustard back in Canada. I was forced to continue with the collective ritual, as Santa-ized Kevin began summoning people forward, replacing the numbers written on our hands with scrolls marked with even more numbers (A numerical labyrinth only the Chinese could devise!). This in turn led to package, and there was a package for all in attendance, each carrying within it’s protective shell an object, or objects, of great spiritual and metaphysical significance…including keroro slippers and a jar of maple syrup. I received a most peculiar puzzle, the bringer of which remains unknown to this day, which consisted of a Swiss prism, cleverly disguised by sinful temptations (yes, it was indeed chocolate) that have since mysteriously vanished.
Merely hours after the appearance of the Santa figure in Kevin’s body, when the exchange of totems had been completed, many members of the assembly began to vanish from the room. The Europeans were struck first, dematerializing from the area soon after the Santa had finished his sermon. Were they teleported to a plane of dreams? To the realm of vampires? Or just to their rooms upstairs, it is impossible to know for certain.
The Japanese and the Taiwanese girls began to scream, almost to the point of gaiety, as they attacked each other with flashes of bright light while flashing two upright fingers, a hand gesture from the occult no doubt, whose meaning I have yet to surmise.This was not the first time the Japanese had engaged in such activity, in fact it is a rather common occurrence at most Reitaku events. A few began to raise aloft an inflated object than appeared to be in the shape of a human heart.
It was around this time that I made my escape…

…And so the next day, I went to the Beijing Opera, which, for those of you who don’t know, is opera from Beijing. While I was looking forward to inhuman screeching and the sensation of a new layer building within seconds inside my ear, I was instead surprised to find it quite easy to listen to, dare I say beautiful, if not possible for me to understand entirely. I did pick up a few words, like “Mao Mao” which was either a reference to the late Chairman or a call for more catfood. The costumes were very ornate silk enjewelled masterpieces of Chinese traditional stereotypes, but authentic and mesmerizing to the eye to say the least. The singing was quite good, and made me realize how important tones are to Chinese song as well as speech, though I do not know if this bit of Chinese culture is still fostered in the youth, who like their Western counterparts, stay away from the opera in droves. The story, which was hotly contested by those I attended the play with, generally revolved around an Emperor and an important concubine, who seems to fall in love with the emperor, get rejected by him or something, get depressed and commit suicide, and then inspire said emperor to seek her out in the dreamworld where he says “hey, how ‘bout that date after all? You do’n anything this Friday? Oh right, busy being dead and all…” At least this is how the usher explained it to me, though the program said it was based on a historic episode where the adopted son of the concubine commits treason and thus the court kills her for revenge or something. Either way, sucks to be a concubine I guess. In any case, the opera is chockfull of sorrowfilled wailing over lost love, not unlike some of what I hear around here at the residence but that’s another story. At any rate, it was a beautiful thing to watch, even if the story was a little bit weak…like the Lion King musical. They say anyone who visits China/Taiwan should at least see one, and I agree to that as it was definitely not the chalkboard scratching, ear drum-bursting gong-fest the Lonely Planet implied it to be. Though perhaps that’s because I was wisely not given the stage.

Alright everyone, I’m going away for a few weeks so I don’t know how often I’ll update my blog, but I’ll try to be more regular (When it comes to my past record, I don’t know if I could be any less regular). Thank you for your feedback, those who have given it, and you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Peace to the world, yo!

Christmas in Taiwan

Hey all here's a mish-mash of some of the things I sent out in Xmas emails. Enjoy.

Sorry it's taken me so long to respond to you. I've been pre-occupied with applying to Grad Schools (which should be finished as soon as Lakevold hands his letters of reference to my parents) and planning my travels over the next 6 weeks (they're kicking us out of the residence for Chinese New Year's in January, so I'm taking the time to travel around Japan, China, and Hong Kong/Macau). On December 28th I leave for Osaka (class is supposed to go until the Jan 11th, but I'm leaving early because A) My friend in Japan has time off at that time and B) I don't care about the credit anyway). And this way I get to spend New Year's (at least Western New Year's) in Osaka, and what could by wrong about that, eh? As for Xmas, I still have no idea what, if anything, I'm going to do for it. One of the German guys was talking about watching all the Star Wars film in chronological order back to back, and some of the Czechs wanted to go for a beer. The hotel room thing was planned over a month ago with a Taiwanese friend from Taipei, and I found things planned even a day ago often fall through with this particular individual, so I doubt that will actually happen. On Christmas Day, I am going to a Beijing style opera, that thing that's known for screaming and colorful costumes but its required on my visa that I go to at least one, and then in the evening going to work the front desk. The residence is having a Secret Santa-type gift exchange where anyone could end up with your gift. I was originally considering wrapping a pack of condoms, mainly to see the look on the face of an innocent Taiwanese girl who normally would freak out if she even set foot in a guy’s room to borrow a paperclip, but figured this would be too much work on my part, would do no wonders for my already questionable reputation on campus. To make a short story, long, I ended up wrapping real maple syrup instead that I brought from Canada.
They do actually get into Xmas here, it turns out, but it's not the same as Xmas back home. Basically, take the rampant materialism of the Xmas season back home, add in the rampant everyday materialism of the Taiwanese people, and subtract any connection with religion whatsoever, and that’s what Xmas is like in Taiwan. For example, instead of having all stores closed on Xmas, they make all the stores open 24hours!! Yay, true Xmas spirit! They also have fireworks on Xmas, because in Chinese culture, a holiday isn’t a holiday until some gunpowder gets ignited. On Chinese New Year’s in January, they do close things (hence why I’m getting kicked out), but they don’t exchange gifts, but rather give their children red envelopes filled with money, which the kids get excited about like Western kids get excited about Xmas gifts. My Taiwanese roommate asked me why we don’t usually give people money as gifts in Western cultures, and I told them it was because in our culture giving money isn’t considered very creative and its like you just didn’t have time to get a real present. To which he responded, but “money IS creative, because you can give a lot of money, or a little money.” I should also mention that my roommate, like practically all Taiwanese, studies Business and Economics.
Speaking of Xmas. I read your Xmas story, or creative non-fiction piece, about Santa and the great Xmas lie. I’ve attached a copy to this email with some comments and small suggestions, here and there, but not too many as it looked it had already been through some editing. All in all, a good story. You had me laughing out loud at a few points, which caused my Taiwanese roommate to look at me strangely, which only made me laugh more. Reminded me of when I was first exposed to the truth. My parents had a friend of theirs dress up as Santa every year on Xmas Eve (as it turns out, he was also a bit of an alcoholic and like your uncle Victor, smelt suspiciously of booze. Why do they always pick the ppl who smell like booze to dress like Santa?)
Yeah Taiwan's not as warm as it used to be, but it's no Manitoba. People go around in heavy winter jackets, but the warmest thing I've worn is a windbreaker. People constantly ask me if I'm cold and I just say "I'm not cold. I'm Canadian." This is a culture where people will drive 4 hours to see snow, the odd time it speckles a mountain top. I literally had to explain what a snowflake was to a student I’m tutoring in English, because she didn’t realize “those star-shaped things are real? I thought they just were made up.” When I tell them how cold it gets in Brandon, they freak out. Basically that was the main question I got in my “Beautiful Hometown” presentation. For my Intercultural Communication class, which has a lot of fellow foreigners in it introducing their hometown’s like Cologne, Germany and Lyons, France, I made a no-doubt inspiring presentation about Brandon, Manitoba. Go Wheaties! Basically, it just denigrated into me trying to explain what a social was, and wishing I had brought along that movie we made last summer.
As far as classes go, I still don’t really know what’s going on most of the time, and have resorted to trying to teach myself from the textbook (though, as you can imagine, this does not do wonders for pronunciation and listening). My Conversation professor basically told me that at this point, Ryan Skardal’s Chinese was kicking my Chinese’s ass and that I needed to get more excited about it, or to use his words “more horny about it.” This was the second suspiciously sexual comment I’ve received from a person in a position of authority here in the last week. Just last Friday, I was meeting with the head of the International Department and her dialogue basically went like this “…so if you could arrange with your professors the time you will be taking your exams, I would like… wow, you really have nice eyebrows!” If you combine this with the incident a few weeks ago, when my morning Mandarin instructor unexpectedly popped out of her blouse during a “one-on-one” after class study session (in my defense, I was seriously only asking a question about Chinese), I’m beginning to think I’m having some sort of pheremonal effect on the Taiwanese over 40 crowd. As for the 18 – 30 crowd, no such luck as the closest thing I’ve got to a date is a girl just wanting to practice her English. That and the Taiwanese girls at the residence, judging by the role they cast for me in the International House Drama night, generally just think of me as a guy who gets drunk on the subway and hits on women, but then this what they usually think of all westerners. At the end of Reitaku night I got some flowers though.
Also, a funny story you might like. I've been tutoring a few students English, and this one Indonesian girl wanted me to try listening to some English songs so I brought my CDs one day. I played her some Barenaked Ladies, but she had trouble understanding most of their songs (except the Shopping one, as Taiwanese generally LOVE shopping) and why 5 men would go around calling themselves naked ladies is just one of those cultural mysteries that are quite hard to explain. Odder still was when we moved on to the Russian Futurists, who aren't Russian, aren't really Futurists (as if I really know what a "Futurist" is- someone believing in the future?), and well were only one guy (talk about messed up plural/singular). She seemed to like the song "It's not really cold when it snows," to which she asked "Isn't it cold when it snows?" and I'm like "yes, but you see its got this metaphorical thing... One I'm sure you'll appreciate if you are indeed back in Brandon, is that when it came to the part where he talks about two snowflakes matching, and I told her that no two are alike because they are actually shaped like stars, and she's like "that's real? I thought people just made that up." Of course I might ask her equally silly-sounding questions about orangutans or Javanese coffee. If you want to hear more about my experiences in Taiwan, you can check out my blog at http://www.mydogsmellslikecoconuts.blogspot.com/, but let me know how your experiences have been as well.

Reitaku Night’s Grand Finale Presentation Extravaganza!!

Reitaku Night’s Grand Finale Presentation Extravaganza!!

Hey, everyone. Sorry it has taken me so long once again to post a blog. I’ve been busy with Reitaku night preparations, planning my trip to Japan/China, and trying to get into Grad school. That and being in Taiwan. I’d like to take this opportunity to extend the blog shout to all the Czechs whose names I am about to butcher through anglicized spelling, Jan, Suzanna, and Ylianna? As well as Elodie of the French (whose name is pronounced like melody, would probably have something like é in it, were it to be spelled correctly) who also it turns out has been reading my blog. If you’re reading this and I haven’t mentioned you, it’s not because I don’t love you, or think you have a great personality, but it’s likely because I have no idea how to spell your name also.

So, last Friday we finally had the great grand performance of the Reitaku International Night (Reitaku, by the way, is a Japanese name and pronounced nothing like it looks. In Japanese, “R”s are pronounced like “L”s and vice versa, so I get called “Lyan! ” and Reitaku is pronounced more like Lye Tai Gu. In Chinese, it’s further from what you’d expect coming out as Leedtze or some such thing.) So yeah, we even all got matching black hoodies with the name spelt on it, which I for some reason still seem to pronounce Rei-Ta-Ku. While the hoodies mean we can all act like gangstas, in actual fact they were intended for the chorus mainly, that we used to conclude the evening with a stirring rendition of “We Are the World,” sung variously as “We arl da wold!”, “We are wold!” and “Mmmph, mmph, mmph” (I myself, tended to sing the latter variety).

Lucky for the audience, in this instance I was singing in a group, and therefore not subjecting them to my complete lack of tonality on a one-on-basis (though I did provide the Ryan Clement musical experience in the after-party, or so I’m told ;)). Early in the evening, they were not so lucky as to avoid my horrible spoken Chinese which must have made Emperor WuDi himself turn over in his grave. Or at the very least, John A. MacDonald, as the presentation was a cultural representation of Canada, but because I only had like 3 minutes, a week’s preparation, and a fairly limited capacity to communicate in Chinese, the presentation basically degenerated into trying to say things like “Quebec has poutine” and “Saskatchewan” in Chinese (Saskatchewan, for what its worth, is pronounced Sa Ke Qi Huan). I also danced around like an idiot, inexplicably pretending to ride a horse, while dressed in everything with a maple leaf that I could get my hands on, including a flag as a cape and a tuque I borrowed from a Japanese girl (and suppose I should probably return one of these days). Needless, I was dressed like an over-the-top patriot at a gold-medal hockey game, with so many maple leafs that any country in the world would think I was going to far with the patriotism (Except perhaps, with the US, where the American flag is considered casual dress). The other countries, of course, had talented people who actually did a GOOD job of their presentations. So after tripping over my flag-cape on the way out, France, represented by Valery, Angeline, and Elodie (who likely have accents in their names somewhere, but I’m not sure where or what so I’m not going to even try) when on to do a comparison between Taiwan and France as well as a song sung well in French. The Germans (Y/Jacob, Katherine, and Lynda) didn’t say a word, but rather exhibited a form of entirely serious interpretive dance, done to a mix of classical pieces and hip hop hits, and centered around a can of Heineken (which is actually Dutch, but shh! Don’t tell anyone!). The Germans even went so far as to sacrifice the health of their knee caps, jumping off the stage for the sole delight of the audience. The Japanese did a puppet show, which I didn’t entirely understand but it looked nice. The Czechs provided some minutes silence as they all conveniently found somewhere else to be on Reitaku night, while the Koreans enacted their centuries-old tradition of working the lights and sound system. Taiwanese decided not to celebrate their country, less the Chinese army would come across the straits and declare war on Reitaku.

In addition, there was cheerleading, a quiz show, musical numbers, and an entire segment dedicated solely to cross-dressing (for which, the Japanese and Taiwanese men were all too excited about). There were also two small plays, one about a child detective named Konan (based on a Japanese cartoon show, and not related to Conan the barbarian as I had earlier expected and hoped). Konan is basically the Japanese answer to Scooby-doo, but instead of flower children and hound-dogs, you have stereotypical school children, cartoonish smiles and Manga pop music. Oh, and hard core violence of course.

The other play, in which I acted the part of a stereotypical western drunk on the subway who hits on women and gets into fights (at least, I think I was acting). Basically, it’s a love story about a plush toy geek, played by Jacob of the German clan, who tries to get the “piaoliang de xiaonu” (hot chick), played by Katherine. I am the initial antagonist, who makes a move on Katherine, prompting Jacob to act and save the day, and for us to have what some might call a fight scene, after which I get dragged off by the rest of the passengers on the subway (this time, though, they were only pretending to drag me off). My current reputation as a drunk who constantly hits on women was further exasperated, not only by the aforementioned after party, but by the Powerpoint Photo Memories they showed before the show, which effectively had two pictures of me, one with my arm around Katherine who does not need to act to show that she feels uncomfortable, and one with me collapsed under a bottle of rye whiskey. These 2 photos were the most repeated slides in the performance. Yeah! Go team me!

For the most part, the performance was well received. The Japanese and Taiwanese put a ridiculous amount of work into it, practicing like every night (including Friday and Saturday) and being genuinely surprised when you didn’t want to practice every single night for like 4 hours too. At about 1 am on Thursday night, they told me they wanted everyone, including me, up for 8 am practice (I told them, no, but the next morning sure enough there were three 8 am intercom calls, preceded by high pitch squeals and various incomprehensible banter). As far as can I tell, Taiwan is a nation of morning people who just love doing things at ridiculously early times and constantly try to get me to wake up on the same time, saying not “Do you want to get up at 8 am?” but “You have to get up at 8 am!”

So in the end though, I think most people had fun, though some took it way too seriously, though I have decided it is an Asian custom to take things way too seriously (see aforementioned blogs about extra-curricular activities). When Jacob and I tried to “break it down” in the wings, to alleviate the “butterflies in the stomachs” of our compatriots, we got a few angry stares and shouts of “shut up.” Still, though, I’d say the actual night was fun for the most part, if not a little crazy, and the after-party was quite a spectacle as Jacob and I broke loose and raced office chairs and got jiggy with it with all the Japanese girls. Of course, a few of the Taiwanese-Japanese decided to try heavy drinking for the first time, which lead to more than one person being fireman carried back to their rooms. Still though, it was nice to see everyone finally let loose after being so serious for so long. I’m still not sure if I understand the Taiwanese sense of humour, though I won’t go so far as to assume they don’t have a sense of humour. What they don’t seem have is a sense of black humour, as the English words of encouragement “go break a leg on stage” were generally less than appreciated. Sarcasm is also generally lost on them, or taken literally with the electronic dictionaries being whipped out to figure out what the crazy Westerner is saying. An after show rendition of “We are the losers, my friend! And we’ll keep on losing to the end! No time for champions, cause we are the losers OF THE WORLD!!” was following by shouts of “Weishenme!” (why, but generally more emphatic than in English), “Zhen da ma!?” (Really? Also more emphatic than in English), and “Bu shi!!” (No way!) Of course, these are the same responses they gave to me when I told them I spent one weekend on the moon, which I liked because it was still less developed than many other more popular tourist destinations.

Ah well. At the end of performance itself, I even got a bouquet of flowers from one of the Taiwanese girls who I met earlier in the week who works for a campus paper. I’m not sure if the flowers were a good will gesture, or an attempt to woo me (which I must admit I don’t have too much experience with, always finding it strange that any woman could actually find me sexually attractive). Yeah, that’s right, I’m a guy who doesn’t understand woman, of any nationality, which as I understand it basically makes me the same as any other man in the world. At any rate, I figure I might as well do some form of investigative journalism myself, in the form of meeting her for dinner and language exchange. Hehe, who knows.

In other news, I went to Taiwan’s big computer convention this weekend with the Germans Rebecca (who loves to be called Becky) and Jacob, which basically had more crowds and over-the-top promoters than any actual deals as well as spending some time chilling in Ximen, talking about how my Taiwanese roommate has seemingly hooked-up with a Japanese cheerleader, and watching a movie about Penguins (“The March of the Emperor”, which, as the name suggests, has surprising similarities to Star Wars). Oh yeah, and another German girl, Charlotte told me her own true story about being attacked by sharks in open water about 1 km off the Australian coast (and to think, you thought MY story was interesting enough to read).
See you next time