But you know that it will, due to the lacking in the long-term care policies that work that are still not quite, set up by the, government here! Off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
Mother’s Day is here again, the scent of carnation is the symbol of mothers, and, we don’t need to put mothers on that high pedestal, their kindness toward us, we can’t, repay them for all of our, lives.
In the times of thanks, there are however, a group of aging mothers who are taking care of their own young, as they’re, growing, older. The 8050 Trend reported by the “Orange Generation”, the parents in their eighties, raising their fifty-year-old midlife age children, their golden years, are, shadowed over by the dark clouds of long-term care, they can’t see the beautiful rays of the setting sun, there’s no rainbow after the rain, it’s a never-ending war, also, a tragedy of Mother’s, Day.
I have a friend with polio, she had never been married and is already sixty, and in her midlife years, she’d been diagnosed with diabetes, and now, she’s looked after by her elderly eighty something mother. When she was younger, her mother told her, that it’s okay she never marries, so long as she’s healthy and happy, but, as she entered into midlife, the assortment of conditions came at her, and in her mother’s elderly years, she’s responsible for caring for her own adult daughter, Mother’s Day had never been easy for her, no need for blessings of any sort, and her only hope, is to, get away, from the hells of long-term care.
I’d bumped into a mother-son pair on the weekends, sometimes at the marketplace, sometimes, on my way to the marketplace. This mother-son pair live close by, the son wedded a foreign woman, later his wife ran off, it was only him and his mother. He work during the weekdays, his mother took care of the meals. On weekends, the two would go shop for groceries together, the mother walks in front, and her son was like a guard, walking behind her, very, carefully, he looked similar in stature to his own mother, as the mother passed through the butcher’s, the vegetable, fruit stands, fish, stopped, the son’s arms were fully hung with the plastic bags, and that, is what marked the weekend marketplace.
This seemingly nice picture, quite harmonious, but actually, the man never got over his own wife running off, became severely depressed, and had to quit work, and could no longer shop at the markets with his mother now. Later, the woman would come to the markets, in her cane by the weekends, and would greet those whom she was acquainted with, not knowing when her son will get better, and how much longer she can, take care of him, or maybe, one day, she would, die before him.
My neighbor’s fifty-year-old son was sent to prison a few years back for something, the siblings had given up on him, only his aging mother didn’t, every other week, she would bring his favorite meals to visit him in prison. As he was released, he’d moved in with his mother, couldn’t find a job, became, a borderline person of the society, and started working odds and ends, picking up the recycle materials to sell for measly income, and his mother can only put up the money she’d saved to help him make his own ends, meet.
The trend of eighty-fifty is that heavy lock and chain in old age, it had all the untold sorrows of the parents, a deeper sort of imprisonment than the prisons. I hope that there won’t be any more of the tragedies of the eighty-fifty in society repeatedly, hope that the systems of welfare the government set up can be more complete, that we the offspring can all become those whom our parents can, rely on when they’re, older.
And so, these are cases of how the aging parents are still responsible for their adult children, for whatever reasons there may be, and this is bad, because these aging parents deserve a break, but they simply, can’t get it.
Everything you were worried about before you left to visit your son, became, excessive, but hey, you are a parent, and, parents would always, worry about their own young, nonstop, right? Yeah, that’s because you don’t realize, that fate will take care of everything in our, lives…translated…
Eight years ago, I’d decided to move back to Taiwan, to take care of my mother, as I’d decided to leave my only son in the U.S. to find employment, I’d worried, incessantly then.
Before leaving the U.S., we’d sold the house, left nothing for our son, hoping he could become independent on his own; but, after a few years or working in the food industries, he couldn’t even live out his dreams of having a food truck, he’d started, showing signs of, depression, refusing to get vaccinated. At the time when the pandemic was most severe, I’d, flown to the U.S. to see him, to let him know, that mom’s care for him, had never been, gone.
From before, when I’d gone to visit him in the U.S., I’d stayed at friend’s houses, coming and going in a hurry, I’d not even seen where he was staying, and the meals we’d gone out for, lasted only, two, three short, hours; this time, he’d, invited me to stay with him, let up his own bedroom, and it’d, made me feel, pampered. In the month and a half, I’d, made his meals every day, as a professional chef, he too, had, prepared for me, a few of his, agile dishes, especially the barbecue pork ribs that I’d, longed for so much. The two of us both, treasured these moments we got to, sit down and eat together very much.
her son’s dreams…
that’s come, true! Photo from online
To save up the money, he’d originally wanted to stop the rents of the place he lives in, and start camping out in his own car, but after I’d, analyzed the means for him, after we’d, discussed the matter more, he’d not only decided to continue the rent, also, agreed to get vaccinated too; as for his dreams of purchasing a food truck to start his own business, I’d, searched with him, found a brand new, and reasonably priced food truck, now, he can finally, live his dreams, of working on a, food truck.
My son is an only child, and we are both working, he doesn’t have many friends. Thankfully, his friend, Ken had asked him to move in as a roommate, to share the rent, they now have the company of one another. I’d thanked Ken for looking out for my son personally, and, everything that’s worried me before I went to the U.S., all found their, resolves on their, own.
It took me a total of thirty-eight hours for the total flight, the transfer, to finally get back to Taiwan, and, after the fourteen days’ worth of quarantine in the hotels, and seven days’ worth health self-managing, I finally got to, sleep on my own, bed. The pandemic had affected the whole world, and it’d, given me a whole month and a half with my son, and it’d, made us realized, how much we cared for one another.
So, this is on the good thing that came out of the pandemic, and, everything you were worried about, became, excess, because fate will take care of your own young, and, he’d found his “calling”, as a food truck owner, with a good friend of his.
The measures of this man, how he’d, given all he could in life, and left behind, a wonderful, legacy after his, death…translated…
Zhong-Ji is Very Passionate and Puts Everything He Has into Work, the Tiananmen Incident in Beijing, in the Rain of Bullets, He’d Interviewed the Witnesses, Victims, & Those Who Participated, Had it Not Been the Manager of the Station, Lee Ordering Everybody to Retreat, He’d Thought about, Staying…………
No Matter How Difficult the Check-Ups, He’d Agreed to Them, in an, Instant
It’d been said, that he’d, passed, so, abruptly.
The medical staff members kept trying to pinpoint the source of his infections, but, he was in a coma due to the medications they’d administered to him, he couldn’t say a word, but, the machines showed his vitals were dropping, the blood pressures dropped sharply, then, the heart slowed, slowed…………then, stopped. He’d, used his behaviors, to prove his statements of death before he’d died: how I will go, is leaving NO regrets behind, free and, clear.
He was, the noted good friend in the news media industry, in the business realms, the not-for-profit organizations, everybody who knew him deemed him a good friend who’s, understanding, and kind. He was, Zhong-Ji Liu.
In the ten months he’d battled it out with his illness, he was, the best, most compliant sort of wonderful patient that any doctor and nurse could, ever, ask for, no matter how awful the checks, how painful the treatment measures, he’d, agreed. Like there wasn’t an inkling of emotional response; but he’d disclosed his fears, worries, and helplessness to us in private, it’s just, that he’d, made up his mind, to fight the cancer cells in his, blood.
April 22nd, 2022, Zhong-Ji’s birthday party was held at a certain restaurant, the owner of the restaurant was an old acquaintance of his; Zhong-Ji told me quietly, that the foods were amazing, the prices, good, but, the owner was having a difficult time, keeping the restaurant going. That evening, it was so rare, that his son, Jen-Ning was there too, and, in an instant, the wine glasses were emptied in both their, hands, Zhong-Ji talked on, still quite the, drinker. A few days later came, the news of his blood producing cells stopped working, meaning, he was diagnosed with, leukemia.
He’d immediately gone with the treatment plans the Veteran’s Memorial oncologists had assigned him to, scheduled a bone marrow transplant. Just got out of the hospital on May 14th, by the 17th, he’d gone with his wife, Hsu, became a Buddhist under the Fagu Mountain master. Close to twenty years ago, his own father passed away, he witnessed how the master of Fagu Mountain and all the other Buddhist followers recited the passages of the dead for his own father, he was moved; after that, he’d gone to all the activities of the Buddhist Foundation, no questions asked. It’s just, that under the affinities, he’d never, become, “baptized” as a Buddhist, I’d wondered about that a bit, but, it wasn’t my place to ask. Until the cancer came at him, he’d, told me, that he worried he wasn’t, good enough, that he’d lacked the qualities to become, a Buddhist follower, that’s why he’d, put it off too long. I’d laughed at him in the phone calls, that he’d, worried to much, that becoming a Buddhist was like registering for an account online, to prove oneself as a Buddhist, with only the desires of finding a place to belong, along with seeking out the wisdoms of mercy, and kindness, the path to learning these values, nothing more. So, Zhong-Ji stopped hesitating, told me, that he would, become a follower of, Buddhism!
Zhong-Ji is my younger school mate at World Journalism University, we’d gotten involved in the choir, but not together, I was the leader of the tenth annual choir group, and he, the leader of the, fourteenth, and because we became schoolmates, we’d become, connected, and even if we are separated by the years, we naturally, couldn’t, break the bond, for decades, we’d sung, gathered for meals, and it’d, never stopped.
He’d once helped me a great deal at work, in the T.V. programming, he’d only worked for a short six months, and it was the most leisure of time that’d been, offered to me, working with him, all the nitty gritty of the settings of the shows, the shows themselves, he’d, taken it all on his, shoulders. At the moment that he’d died, he was still, a member of the chairs of the foundation.
Witnessed Everything that’s Bad in the World, the Trials of the People, Had Been Hit by a Serious Illness
Zhong-Ji was more than devoted to his work, passionate too, the interview he’d done of the Tienanmen Incident in Beijing, he’d interviewed the people under the fires, had it not been the station manager Lee, who’d, ordered the crew to immediately return, he would’ve, stayed there. On his way back from Beijing, to Narita, Tokyo, back to Taiwan, I’d gone to pick him up; on the evening, I’d take him to the beer house in Tokyo, he’d asked me to, stay for the night at the hotel, and, told the thrilling moments he’d encountered in Beijing to me in one breath.
There’s that tight ruler that Zhong-Ji measured himself by inside of him, especially on the means of interpersonal relations; he tight-lipped, only told of what he’d observed, nothing that will put a damper on someone else’s, reputations. Once after he’d quit the job of a television station manager, as he’d sorted through his desk, I’d gone with him and his wife to dine, as Zhong-Ji went to the restrooms, Huei-Jen, his wife smiled and told me, that this man she had is really, easygoing, he’d made such a high pay per month, and yet, it was, so easy, for him to, let go of that, without a, second, thought. That evening, Zhong-Ji did not mention anything from work, only comfortably, drank and ate, but, I’d observed, that there was, something, going on, in his mind, that’s, not spoken, aloud.
illustration from UDN.com
During his time at Fuxing Airline, he’d gotten involved in two crashes of the airlines, toward these sorts of bad predicament, most would dodge all they could, but, the owner of the airline asked him how he was to answer the massive media inquiries, Zhong-Ji told him that he will tell the press about the most difficult section, the payments that will be made to the families who’d lost their loved ones in the crash. In the podcast, “Fearing Death, Wanting to Live Longer”, I’d asked Zhong-Ji why was he willing to, get himself, in that, huge, mess? He’d told, that he was once a member of the media press, that it was not possible, to take himself out of something this major; at the same time, he’d not feel proper, to just act as a bystander, as the company he worked for, goes into the line of, fire, wanted to use empathy to face the families, who must feel the panic, the losses of their, loved, ones.
He’d continued, that a lot of the families are already in deep distress, and started cussing him out, to cussing his own families out too, but, Zhong-Ji did NOT act upset one bit, he’d empathized, that had it be his own loved ones who’d died in the crash, could he use an even worse means to cuss out the airline too? And so, he’d flown to China, to help sort out the means of compensation of a mother-daughter pair, the families ordered him to get down on his knees, and had the Taiwanese-Chinese relations agent get down on their knees with him, he’d told me, had he not kneeled, how could the families feel okay, to sit down with him, in a calmer manner, to discuss the compensations with him? By the same, in the mortuary, seeing how the undertaker had, worked their hardest, to patch up the corpse, how could he not kneeled beside the families? That was, such, a huge HIT of sorrows, and loss for them!
A survived young man, was paralyzed from the waist down, it took him a total of five whole times, to get him to see him, and, he was made to stand outside under the scorching sun for over an hour, and, the survivor of the crash mentioned the Buddhist master, Shen-Yen, said that it was because of the words of the master, that’s helped healed him, Zhong-Ji immediately used his cell phone, to find the video of a recording of the Buddhist master, and the man’s attitude changed suddenly. Following that, he’d not only been “graced” by the air-conditioning, the man also, served him some ice tea too, and, at that eighth time, the man finally signed the papers, to get the payments of the damages. What touched Zhong-Ji the most was, the survivor, before he left, asked, “can we become friends?”
the man, apologizing at a press conference for the crash to the public, photo from online
Zhong-Ji, after he witnessed the ups and downs of life, life and death, was hit hard, with his own, cancer. He’d told me peacefully, that based off of the prognosis, he had no more than six years at best, but, in only a year and a half, after he was, injured inside and out, he’d finally, turned in his, timesheet in life, and ran towards the embraces of, Buddha. The moment I’d heard the news of his passing, there was, a scene that’s, frozen, before my eyes,, what his wife, Huei-Jen had, sent to me—his son, Jen-Ning readying to go to the hospital to donate his own marrows to try to save his, father, when Zhong-Ji hugged onto his son, who’s, a head taller than he was tight, with his face, distorted, crying so hard.
And so, this is what this man left behind after he’d died, with his means of treating others kind and gently, and, his actions AND his words, are exactly identical, which was truly rare, especially in today’s, world.
This man had the amazing work ethics, the right way of treating others, and, that’s something, that we can all, learn from!
It is, fate, or, is it, manipulated, by man, or could it be, both??? Translated…
He took his daughter’s date of birth, name, to ask about her, marriage, rode his scooter, all the way, into, town.
The interpreter of the charts with the moustache pinched his fingers together, then, stated, firmly, that it’s a shame, that the day of the birth was the twenty-second, had it been the twenty-third, then, the marriage was destined to last long, and they will have everything.
His daughter who was not yet married, was the biggest worry that he has. What he worried over, was that she’s, almost thirty, and still not yet, wed, and the neighbors started, gossiping, and, his daughter objected, and rejected the matchmaking; and, what he’d felt owing was, that he was insistent that she helped care for her younger siblings, and took her out of school, and now, regrets got him, nowhere, he can only try to find her a good husband to make it up to her.
This blind date, he’d put everything into, that finally got, set up. The man wasn’t tall, but, looked, okay, has a good background, works in a public post; he’d contemplated, that looks don’t last forever, a good profession that’s what’s, important, besides, his daughter is, petite too, they looked, matching.
illustration from UDN.com
The day before the matchmaker was to come and get everything, he’d, tossed and, turned, with the “twenty-three” he’d written on the red paper, although, he’d not had any doubts as he’d written his daughter’s age, but, it was, a “lie”, is this right of him? He’d tossed and turned, the clock struck midnight, sounded, especially, heavy which made his worries, exaggerated. As the rooster crowed, he got up, and, felt firm: even if the heavens have me pay for it, so long as my daughter gets her blessed marriage.
He’d handed the envelope with his daughter’s date of birth to the matchmaker, and, everything, all the worries, all the owing, all, gone, away. As the matchmaker left, the children were having a good time outside in the vacant lot, the laughter pierced through the clouds, the sun of the beginning of summer, warmed the land, his brows raised, expectant that he will be hosting a wedding for his own, daughter in the autumn.
After the matches, the matchmaker went back and forth, and set up the rituals, the rites, and, on a sunny autumn day, the two families became, connect4ed. And, everything was like the schemata he viewed in his mind, the scenes flashed by, how could he not cry of, joy, thank the heavens.
Sunrise and sunset, the flowers won’t stop blooming and withering away, because of the weddings, and, in a blink of an eye, his daughter had been a wife for, over, thirty, years. One day, his daughter’s youngest brother-in-law, was sorting through the, family tree, she’d accidentally found that the date were wrong, told, him that she was born on the twenty-second, and not the twenty-third, and, everybody didn’t press her any harder, all believed, that the man who’d copied the dates, copied it, wrong. Yeah, from long ago already, who would remember, what that “date” read back then. But, she’d, wondered, her father being, too careful a man, no chance he could’ve, written her date of birth wrong by, mistake, must be her in-laws’ families that had, written it, wrong. As she’d gone home and mentioned this, as her mother told her exactly what had happened, tears fell, she’d felt bad, that her father who’d always done what was right, did this, for the sake of her, happiness.
what the Chinese people would do before marrying…the parents’ gone to get their offspring’s charts, matched…photo from online
Or maybe, it’s the fortune teller who’d told the fortunes, wrong, or maybe, it was her father’s love, that’s, changed what’s already been, destined, not only did her father live long and healthy, she—my cousin, and her husband, helped one another as they grew older, with children who were amazing in school, at work, the family is living well, they’re, happy and blissfully, married, they’re in their, eighties now.
And so, this, is still, fate, that this father’s love for his daughter, “changing” the outcomes of her, marriage, because of how superstitious the older generations are, and, this man wanted his baby girl to be married well, so, he’d, tweaked the hours of her birth, so it’d, matched to the chart reader’s means, and it was, meant to happen, as fate would, have it.
How Tsai and the DDP, still, SOLD this country’s “assets” out, for, SCRAPS, and this is still, SHIT!!! Off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
Because of the global economic downturn, the first quarter of earnings of TMSC didn’t, live up to the expectations for the very first time. Especially in March, it’d dropped 10.9-percent, at an annual rate of 15.4-percent, and it’s, a downward, slide. The C.E.O., Liu of TMSC stated he can’t accept the restrictions of assistance of the Chip Act by the U.S., setting the limitations for TMSC, claimed that he needed to discuss it with the U.S. Business Department, then, he will, file for the applications. Recently, the stock prices of TMSC here, dropped to below $500, and the total worth of the company lost a total of thirteen billion dollars N.T., causing the entire stock market here to slide down also.
Last year, due to the territorial politics, TMSC went to the U.S. to set up its, production plants, first, to reduce the risks, secondly, the U.S. offered great incentives to the company. And yet, as TMSC put more funds in, the American government refused to increase the incentives, and stated that the company needed to offer up its specific operating procedures, that the company must share its extra earnings with the U.S. government, etc., etc., etc. By this way, the U.S., had set the company up, while TMSC, got trapped, and is now, finding all of this, hard for it, to, swallow.
the manufacturing plant, being, built in, Arizona, was it??? Photo from online
What was ironic was, the Tsai government boasted that “the relations of Taiwan and U.S. is the best in forty years’ history”, but, the government had, handed TMSC on a silver platter to the, U.S., using the “great mountain that’s kept us safe” as a bargaining, chip. And now, the time came, for our government to deal with the U.S., the Tsai government fell, silent, and handed the problems, back to TMSC to deal on its, own. Comparing, Samsung isn’t that hotheaded toward the Chips Act, the South Korean government demanded to negotiate with the U.S. on this; and, in this visit to the U.S., the South Korean President Moon Jae-in, the execs of Samsung and SK group were companying. Comparing the two, the Tsai government seemed, too, weakened.
To this, the “beliefs of TMSC being the bargaining chip” came out clearly. The reality being, TMSC is, doing all it can, to protect this country, but the country doesn’t do it enough, justice by doing the same for it!
This is still, an ABUSER/ENABLER relationship that this DDP government led by Tsai had, gotten in, with the U.S. in the matter of, selling TMSC out, and now, every single high-tech trade secrets are in U.S.’s grasps, surely, the U.S. is going to, KICK this country to the C-U-R-B, because??? The U.S. had not been anything BUT, opportunistic, and, continuing in taking advantage of how Tsai and the DDP feel the desperate need, to SUCK up to it, and now, we will suffer, the CONSEQUENCES!
The life of this man, was as with many twists and turns, as the puppet shows he’d, performed in…translated…
This year at the before-the-New-Year Cleaning, I’d started sorting through the stacks of photo albums on the shelves, in the messy, not ordered by dates old photos, I’d found my long ago, already forgotten maternal grandfather. If he were still around, he would be, a hundred and eleven this year.
When I was in the elementary years, he was already, elderly, but every now and then, he’d taken the train from Changwha by himself to Kaohsiung to stay with us. Remembered how one time during the summer vacations, after we’d finished the tape of the puppet shows we’d rented, he’d started, telling the stories of old.
His father died young, his mother remarried, and so, at a very young age, he’d started, drifting around, thankfully, there was a man who’d, taken him in—a master puppeteer in Yunlin, saw that he was young, but quite intelligent, and learned really quickly, he’d, taken him in as his apprentice, and passed the skills of puppeteering to him.
the master puppeteer, performing with the puppets…photo from online
My maternal grandfather was illiterate, and had hired those who can read, to read the books to him, to tell him the tales, anything from the Tri-Kingdoms, the Seven Swordsmen, as he’d listened to those tales once, and, he could, recall the details, and put on the shows, and made the puppets perform the actions, in those days when the mic hadn’t been invented, using his diaphragm, he was able to star in the performances at the temple celebrations, and used this skill of his, to make a lot of, money, became quite famous in the central regions.
I’d privately asked mom out of curiosity, why he’d suddenly, retired, and stopped, putting on the, acts? Turned out, every time he’d done a performance, he’d gambled his earnings on the dices, and, lost almost, all of his earnings for the shows, he’d, performed to gambling, rarely brought home any of what he’d, earned in the performances. And, my maternal grandfather’s mother-in-law was quite intelligent, every time she received the news of him coming home, she’d immediately, cleared out the storages of rice, stashed the rice at another location in the kitchens, with only a bowl of salted water on the supper tables, and a few yams, to show how bad the situation at home is to my maternal grandfather, showed, that “this is the only things we had to eat”.
Later on, one day, when my eldest aunt was still quite young, she’d stolen a salted fish from the vendor when he wasn’t looking, took it home, and started eating it like it was, gourmet. This was sighted by my maternal grandfather, and he’d immediately taken her to the fish vendor, to pay for the fish and to have my eldest aunt to apologize to the man for stealing. At the same time, he’d, examined himself, that it was his addictions to gambling, that’s caused his families to be in poverty stricken means. He’d cried those tears of remorse, of regret, and sworn to stop being addicted to gambling, and had, sold off the boxes of delicate puppets at a very cheap price to a Japanese collector, and started up in his business since, walked all over the island, to sell the fabrics.
Thinking on my maternal grandfather’s life, it was, like those, puppet shows he’d, performed, with the ups, downs, the highs and the, lows, and, until before the curtains fell, the show still, played on, he’d had, the hardships of his life, handed, to him then.
And so, this is, a showman’s life, he’d toured around with the troupes, and, gambled away all of his earnings, and it wasn’t until he saw his own young, stealing and eating that fish, did he, finally realize, that he needed to cut his addiction off, and that was all that it took, for this man, to turn over a new leaf, to start acting responsibly, to provide for his own, families.
The attitude to which, this woman, come to terms with her, cancer diagnosis…translated…
I’d bumped into my friend, S at the hospital, after the greetings, we’d asked what we were there for? What department are we going to see? S stated with ease, that she’d just set up the stay at the hospital, she’s getting the operations the following day.
How can that be? Aren’t surgeries always, stressful and worrisome? S looked like she was, out for, a stroll in the afternoon.
S saw my question, explained, “last year when I went for my health check, it’d shown that I had a node in my lungs, I’d gone for the follow-up earlier this year, the CT showed that the node on my left lung grew bigger, the oncologists recommend that I have it removed to get a biopsy. I’d though, it’d not impacted me, it’d not hurt, would it be necessary, that I go, under, the knife? Guess I’ll, wait for a while then. And yet, the fact is right before her, she kept swaying between whether or not to get the biopsy. And so, I’d asked a physician friend of mine, Dr. Huang, and he’d, used only five words, and I was, convinced, to check myself in.”
“Might I inquire, what the four words were?”, I’d asked.
S smiled that stealthy smile, “it’s more than worth it!”
So, is there, a “calculation” of how much going under the knife was worth it or not?
Turned out, Dr. Huang reminded her, that the cancers of the lungs, are mostly, asymptomatic, unless through the low-dose CT, and the biggest myth was, a lot of people believed, that they aren’t smokers, so they won’t have lung cancer, but medically, in Taiwan, ninety-percent of female lung cancer patients don’t smoke at all, and so, this, was a must. Going under the knife for a minor procedure, to get the truths known, no need to worry over it, most importantly, it’s, early discovery, in the earliest stages, easiest to, treat and cure, isn’t it, quite, worthy?
I squeezed S’s hand, wished her the best, she’d smiled, “knowing, facing it, dealing with it, to get that firmness underneath my feet, this is, such, a wonderful, feeling!”
And so, this is on how attitude determines, everything, especially when there’s the uncertainties in our lives, we must, keep believing, that we are going down this road, and wherever it’ll lead, is wherever we’re, meant to be, and if you carry this mindset, than, nothing will, faze you!
Everything that’s, crashed D-O-W-N, yep, that’s what’s, currently, happenin’ here, in my neck of the woods. I’m going blind (being a SEER and ALL) due to congenital degeneration of my optical nerve (which still was NOT my fault, I can’t control WHOSE genes I inherit, can I??? Of course N-O-T!)
And, my cousin just, broke something when he went to the bathrooms in his home at night. There’s, also, the matter of my Granny Chung’s contracting MERS-CoV, the lighter symptomatic, and his ex’s home test still showed, that thin red line and surely, that line’s “reduced” a but, but it’s, still there.
yeah, it’s, like this all right!!! Photo from online
Oh, not to mention, how that BITCH could NOT log into her CompuServe account to file the taxes in the U.S. (how’s that my @#$%ING problem again???), and, there’s my youngest uncle, going to get radiotherapy treatment on the cancer in his lungs too, and my great uncle’s starting to show signs of dementia, just like my dearly beloved, Granny Chung from…uh, ‘bout, ‘round a DECADE ago-ish?
So, this is, currently the CIRCUS show that’s, playing on, in this @#$%ED up family of mine, and guess WHAT’s CAUSED this SHIT??? You guessed it, it’s still, K-A-R-M-A!
On learning to trust the grander scheme of, things in one’s life…translated…
Looking Up at the Endless Skies, I Seemed to Understand, that Nothing is, Stable, the No Matter How the World Turns, there’s that Steady Sort of Connections Between People…………
It was 2017 when the Wild Reed Performance Troupes got started on its overseas tours, because we’d made that promise, to walk the longest distances, for the least populated regions with the children living there. Taiwan is an island, the farthest place is over the seas, and so, Ludao, Lanyu, and Kinmen, were where we’d, trekked to, in 2022, we’d planned to perform in Penghu.
There are a total of ninety islets of Penghu, of them, only nineteen were inhabited, six districts, and between the larger islets, there were the highways connection them, but, not for a lot of the smaller islets
I’d gone to case out the place back in April. To get to Wan-An, we can only get there by boats. Also, the tiny island of Hujing islet, to the Hujing Elementary School, where there were only, two students, they are sisters, and by September, there’s, only one student left. Because the older girl is graduating. There’s also, Huayu, the school told, that there’s no place for us to stay. I’d decided to charter a boat, we weren’t going, but we’d, sent for the children to Hujing.
As we set up our itinerary, these children have a show now. After busying through the day’s schedules, I stood by the embankment, watching the waves, on that evening, the sunset dyed up the skies, the yellow, the orange, the purple clouds, with the indigo skies, with that bright red sunset. Such, a beautiful, sight!
But, this had been, truly, a hard year of the pandemic, due to the pandemic, we were in Kaohsiung in January, Hsinbei in April, Hualien in May, Hsinbei and Hsinchu, Miaoli in June, we’d, canceled a total of seventeen performances. We’d originally set to ride the forest trains, hiking up 2,600 altitude, to perform in Alishan, and, those three shows, canceled, because of the pandemic.
In six months, we’d, canceled, a total of, TWENTY performances.
End of June, we’d, halted everything, and waited, for the chances to come by for us again. In August, we’d, prepared ourselves mentally, receiving the performance calls from Penghu, we’d, warned every team member, to NOT gather for meals, to NOT contract the virus. To August 27th, the group meet up, we’re all, healthy, the elementary didn’t call to cancel. On August 29th, in the afternoon, we got on the plane in Taipei, flew toward Penghu. We finally, got to that CRACK, the BREAK in the pandemic, flew to the fourth islet.
As soon as we arrived in Penghu in the afternoon, we’d run straight to the Zhongtun Elementary School in Baisha County, started setting up the stage. The workday of August, we all stank, we sat by the beach at sundown to eat, with the gentle sea breeze. I carried that beautiful expectation, after we’re done with Zhongtun tomorrow, we head to Wan-An, Hujing, then return to Xiyu, Huxi, ten days, the Autumn Wild Reed’s fourth off-the-island performances, success!
This day, there’s also, that beautiful sunset, the brightly colored sun going down, JUST like it was in April, when I’d come, to check out this location for the scheduled, performance.
The following morn, we’d continued work, rehearsal, then came, the call—could it be, that right before the scheduled shows, the school’s, canceling? Nope, it was, way, worse! We can’t make it to Wan-An and Hujing! The boat we chartered called, the wind and waves are too huge, we can’t set out two days from now, which was the dates of performance of Wan-An and Hujing!
After the rehearsal, I’d walked outside, looking at the peaceful ocean, where’s the waves and the wind? But there was, countless waves, raging inside my mind then. I’d, confirmed with the weather channels, nope, not setting out!
I ate, at the same time, calculated, the various plans started taking form. Plan A, change our performances to a new location, not taking down the stage after performance at Zhongtun, getting the kids from the three schools tomorrow on August 31—the chartered boats are willing to do that, but the elementary schools, aren’t. Plan B, switch the performance dates, we didn’t schedule anything on September 3 or 4, but that won’t fly with the elementary school. It seemed, that we can’t, escape from, the regrets.
illustration from UDN.com
Can’t go to Wan-An, Hujing, and now, we have the vacancies for the originally scheduled performances, so, does the Autumn Wild Reeds Troupe just, do nothing in Penghu then?
After the meal, I’d, immediately started up Plan C, started asking my friends, to send the news out, contacting people on the phones nonstop. Two o’clock, halt all calls, because we have a performance. By a little past three, show’s ended, continued calling. And, everybody was quite helpful, it wasn’t even five yet, and, we’d, found a new school that we can, perform in—the Heheng Elementary in West Islet, the Chihdong Elementary, the Zhongshan Elementary in Magong, and there were the schools that wanted us, but couldn’t get on schedule too.
And, where do the troupe members stay at these few days? The principal and office manager of Magong High School noted my worries, just come to stay with us then!
The following morn, I’d headed over to the new school, to Magong High School, to confirm that the place was, set up. After this, the date, the place alterations, finally, settled down. I drove my Baisha to Magong, looking out into the oceans that surrounded, another sunset, with the dyed skies, a red sun setting, the orange, yellow, and purple clouds, the indigo skies, just like it was back in April, and yesterday too……….I’d let out that yelp inside! Maybe, the clouds then was, to inform me of the waves tomorrow, and it took me to this very moment to, understand it. It’s just, what sort of a plan, does this unpredictableness have for, me? I still can’t quite get my hands on that.
The final day in Penghu, I’d gone to Magong High School to say thank you, I’d told the school principal, these few days’ utilities bills, we are responsible for. The principal smiled and told, you guys performed for free, we also, give back. With that heart of gratitude, I’d walked out of the principal’s, office, passed through the track field, looked up at that never-ending blue sies, and I seemed to understand, that there are, the unpredictable things in life, but the connection between people can be, stronger still.
Although there’d been many issues, the ten-day trip in Penghu finally was, fulfilled. On the flight back, I’d, looked closely at the clouds outside the airplane, and I’d, worried, that there may be, the things I still hadn’t quite picked up yet, that’s, written, in between, the, clouds.
And so, this is on how things eventually worked themselves out somehow, you may not know the grander schemes of things, because you can’t see it yet, but you just, have to, trust that everything will turn out, just fine, like this individual had learned, that everything that’s meant to work out, will, work, out.
The features of a woman, the values she had, the means of work she’d, carried with her, translated…
The year that Manzu went to college, her family only gave her a month worth of allowance for living.
She’d gone up north on her own, found a rental stay close to Fujen Catholic University, to settle herself in, then, immediately found a job. Worked days as an operator in a factory plant, and, right after work, she was just in time for her classes. Before the first month’s worth of salaries came, she’d had a period of time of not having any money on her. She had nothing on her, and thankfully, she’d told her landlord that she wanted to have the meal plans, and she didn’t, starve, she was glad, that she had, the foresight to sign on with the meal plans.
And, she’d, gotten through her five-years’ worth of night school, didn’t get any more money from her own parents. Both her parents worked as farmers, worked in the fields their entire lives, never even gotten a chance to retire until they both, died, raised up the eight of them children, “I was the fifth out of seven girls, so I was, a ‘tiny dancer’”, she’d joked.
My high school classmate, Manzu Lin, medium-built, a bit on the slender side, was the notable runner, she had the time of thirteen seconds in the one-hundred meter dash, she’s excellent in sports, but she’d made fun of herself, for “showing all my faults”.
As summer just began, before the bell for the morning study hall came, she would carry the aluminum kegs going back and forth, watered the jasmines in the school, the flowers got clipped to round shaped, like the cute children’s heads, looking up, at her, she’d smiled as she’d watered the plants, the perfect form of a seventeen-year-old adolescent, girl.
As soon as “Fly” started working, she’d started, running fast. She’d gone to China for ten years, worked in Dongwon, Guangzhou, Jiangsu, Zhejiang, and other places, worked in sales, accounting, as well as management. The owner of her agency sent her to set up shop, told her, “doesn’t matter if we lose money, make sure we have a spot there.” She’d kept watch over the factory alone for a whole year, and, didn’t sustain any losses, the new C.E.O. was the brother of the owner of the company she’d worked, lacking the drives in work, and on the weekends, he’d gone to Shanghai, spent all the money, and written it off as the company’s bills.
illustration from UDN.com
The company didn’t develop at all, Manzu disliked that she was going nowhere, sent in her resignation. She’d learned the foreign languages by her own means, went to stay in Indonesia for four whole years ono end. Waited until she decided to come back home, she’d, settled down as a bookkeeper at a local construction company. She’d disregarded how the company’s operations worked, worked hard, to persuade the owner of the business, to reform the accounting department, by the third year, he’d finally given her the okay, and she’d saved the company millions of dollars in taxes, stopped the company from bleeding out. “I am no expert, I’m just, hard working is all”. She’d told.
Manzu already showed signs of her hardworking characters, from when she worked as the head of classroom services, she was relentless in checking the students for how clean the classroom looked. She knew that everybody was complaining on how tough she was toward them, still refused to lower her standards. Using her natural born excellent sight, she’d much rather get on everybody’s bad side, would not let her duties, slide. Nowadays, it’s impossible to find someone who carried this sort of high morale, the younger children, even though they knew, that “popularity is only for the time being! It’s more important than anything else!”
As Manzu had a hysterectomy, she’d still refused to stay put and reset, a few short days after her surgery, she’d returned back to work. Told her coworkers, “it’d hurt less when I’m working!”
She’s not married, knew, that loneliness at old age will be coming to her, so, as she’d recovered, she’d started, racing, again, before four in the morn, she’d hiked up to Baqua Mountain to the gymnasium, ran the five-thousand-meter laps, then, she would go off to work. On the weekends, for karaoke, the Sundays of the even weeks, she’d hiked with the hiking buddies, she’d sent all those good morning greetings like clockwork. Perhaps, to let us know, that if one day, the good morning greetings stopped coming, it would mean, that she had, died……….
After leaving work for thirty years, she was still a junior accountant, and not a formal accountant; she’s not the gold star saleswoman, but could keep the orders of her company when her company was changing its means of operations; she’d used the means of “one word less” to work with her subordinates, and it’d helped them maximized their work potentials. Hard working, and not known fatigue, as Manzu just returned to Taiwan, she didn’t find work immediately, and started, working as a windshield cleaner at the carwash.
Recalling her past, I saw in her crystal clear eyes, “there’s no upper or lower status quos of life, just run the races best as you can, that’s all that anybody can asks of you”.
And so, this, is the story of, that ordinary woman, with the extraordinary life, she’d, weathered through everything, and is still, working hard, to make her life, count.
Mirroring the World 
You must be logged in to post a comment.