Category Archives: Socialization

The Air, My Friend

The column by Jimmi Liao, on what’s instinctive to someone, may not be instinctive to another, and we shouldn’t, judge one another based off of what we know!  Translated…

Can’t believe they’re, learning to swim, what do they learn in learning to swim, isn’t that supposed to be, instinct?

Nope.

the artwork that came with the passage, off of UDN.com

Not at all.

By this “conversation”, we can tell, how we lacked respect for what each other has, that we make judgments of one another based off of our personal experiences, and the thing is, everybody has different experiences in life, just because it’s something you know, that doesn’t mean, that everybody knows it too…

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Filed under Awareness, Cost of Living, Expectations, Lessons, Nature vs. Nurture, Perspectives, Properties of Life, Socialization, The Observer Effect, Values

Regarding the Extracurricular & the Camps

Getting involved, in non-school related activities here, translated…

My youngest was headed out early in the morn, because the camp from her major was starting, as a freshman, she is very enthusiastic of all the activities hosted by her major.  I remembered, that, we’d, headed out before light for her last thing too, in the nearly zero degree icy cold floor of the CKS Memorial Hall, rolled around on the floorboards, it was her salsa club of her high school, she was responsible for coordinating a “recital of her younger schoolmates.”

My youngest started dancing from her kindergarten years to date, dance had become, her favorite.  It’s just, that her school teachers mentioned how if she’d worked too hard on her “hobby”, it may, cause her grades to slip, but she’d, asked us, not to worry, “the extracurriculars are important rites of passage, just let them give it all they got for this!”  but, I’d, found my daughter, with that lack, of enthusiasm, turned out, she had, dropped her activities, because she’s still, trying to figure out what she’s good at academically, she’d told us, “I’m more than certain about dance, and anything else, is not good enough for me.”  Until her final year in high school, she’d, transferred from the sciences, to the social sciences, and now, she’s, in the major she has great interests in, communications, and, she’d, danced every day, and now, she’d, gone out early in the morn, for her summer camp activities.

查看來源圖片the assortments of activities, not related to the academic…photo from online

My eldest and I, were both into the extracurriculars in our high school years, I’d, gotten involved in two groups, one was for vanity, the band, the other, school paper.  Being in band, I’d, played the trumpet, without much talent, just so I can, put on that marching uniform that made me shine on flag day, and, walking across the podium before the President’s Office.  As for the school paper, it was, where my heart lies, I’d, let my own, writing talents, poured out.  I’d recalled, how hard it’d been that I had, worked, on every topic, how I’d, gone to the shopping marts, to find the old photos, to do the interviews, and published my not-mature-enough writings, wanted to pour all of my doubts of the world, my feeling lost for my future, along with my dissatisfaction toward school, all out in the open.

I can no longer recall how the periodical had, turned out, but, my grades, slipped, and, that became, a F-A-C-T.

I’d found a university that I really don’t hate to study in, but the major I was in, it wasn’t anywhere near my interest profile.  And, by then, editing the periodicals, no longer, satisfied my mind, maybe back then, love was, taken up half of my mind.

And yet, because I’d, lost love, I’d, decided, to go for the president of the club, to let myself, embrace this major I’d, found myself to be in, tired, to learn to be a, leader.  And so, the memories of my college years, were revolved around the freshmen orientations, the camps, the seminars, the book fairs, the competitions.  I recalled all the guest lecturers I’d invited, remembered all the shows we’d put on for the freshmen orientations, recalling that freshman ball we hosted, remembered the singing and skit competition I’d, set up, remembering being in the trainees of the officers of the clubs of the school too, along with how I continued being the team counselor as I went into my senior year.

I’d once not wanted to graduate, because I loved being a student too much.  And, the best memories of being a student, are from, the extracurricular activities, as we’d, entered into the groups on our own, there’s, too many connections there.  Like how I watched my eldest get too excited as she’d, started, editing the footage, like how I imagined my youngest happily, leading the freshmen, because she’s, finally, a sophomore.

查看來源圖片volunteer counts too!  Photo from online

Some had found their significant others in the extracurricular groups, like my eldest brother and sister-in-law.  A lot of people found what they truly loved, like my youngest and I.  Recently, I’d, edited a periodical of a bookstore, and, I’d, found my passions there, and that, was when I’d, recalled, this, was what I loved, doing back then.

And so, these extracurricular activities in college, they’d not, only enriched our schooling careers, but it may also, point us, toward the directions of our, future jobs too, and so, don’t be too worried, when your own young got too involved in their extracurricular activities, besides, the university years aren’t about making the grades, it’s about, discovering, who we are!!!

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Filed under Choices, College Life, Connections, Friendships, Hobbies/Pasttimes, Lessons, Life, Memories Shared, Observations, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Socialization, Story-Telling

The Air, My Friend

The column by Jimi Liao, translated…

Because I can’t keep my self all the time, keep maintaining that bright happy smile,

So, I’d made an enormous sculpture, to tell myself: be happy, smile more!

the artwork of Jimi Liao, from UDN.com…

This is just odd, and, it’s so sad to see, that there are still, adults “educating” their own young like this: that they can’t be unhappy, they need to be happy, and you DO realize, how this, is considered as a sort of emotional NEGLECT, right???

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Filed under Being Exposed, Coping Mechanisms, Cost of Living, Expectations, Life, Messed Up Values, Negligence, Observations, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Socialization

Please Let Go, and Trust in Me, Having an Overbearing Mother

The problem here, is still NOT with the daughter, but with the mother, but, does she realize it???  Of course N-O-T, translated…

From awhile ago, on the news, a certain organization had been losing money by the year, the second-generation owner decided to sell of the office building, for cash, the founder, as he was, interviewed, stated, “My heart ached as my son did it, but now, I’d, trusted in his decisions entirely!”

This pair of father and son made me so envious, and at the same time, I’d, felt heartache for them both, because how I’d, wished that my own mother, can trust me like this father had his own son too.

From the views of the world, I guess, I’m, the pride of my parents: made high grades, gone to an all-star institution, and, managed to pass the exams for a public office on my very first try, I’d never needed my parents to worry over my school performances or my work.

Although my mother stated verbally, that I’d, done well for myself, but she’d, never had faith, that I can, handle things on my own, whether it be how I’d spent my money, how to treat others I meet, whether to have children after I married, who should care for my child if s/he was born…………my mother’s criticisms came at me, never-ending, “it’s for your sake”, was her most widely used phrase, and her weapon.

She’d never understood, that what she’d believed to be a show of care and concern, her nagging, was interpreted as how she didn’t trust me enough, I’d tried to tell her, but her response was always, “Those with your last names, can’t take any criticisms from others!”

When I was interning, I’d, lived at home, I’d had a crash on a rainy day, and, as I’d, bent my knees, my injuries started bleeding, but I’d not let my mother know, I’d, bent down, holding the pains in, as I’d helped clean up the house, until my mother rode out to get the groceries, and found the head of the motorcycle dented, that, was when she’d, found out.  I’d gotten into another, serious crash after I was married, and, it’d been years to this very day, I’d still, not told my parents what had happened to me.

Of the two wrecks I got in, I was, very scared, but I knew, that other than feeling anxious over me, and nagging me, my parents couldn’t do anything for me, and they’d, surely, blamed me, for being, too careless too.  And so, no matter how painful, I’d much rather, hide the truth from them.

I’d never doubted the love my mother had for me, but every time, as I’d, wanted to show affection towards her, she’d started, lecturing me, and in the end, she’d added, “Nobody else is going to tell you this, I’m your mother, that was why, for your sake, I’m, telling, you the truth!”  in my mother’s mind, I’ll never be, enough, there are, always things, I can, improve, and, all of my good performances are, matter-of-fact, and yet, the imperfections, are what pricked at her, and she’d needed to, get rid of them.

But, my dearest mother, you know what?  Your daughter may not be perfect, but, she’d always tried very hard, worked hard, can you just, let go, and trust in me?

And, hopefully, this woman’s mother can see this article, and change the way she interacts with her daughter, but, I’m still, NOT holding MY breath, because parents like these, they think what they’re doing, IS for the good of their young, and they just keep on, doing whatever the F*** (maxed out???) they’re doing, using their same old ways, probably because they were, treated as such by their own parents (‘cuz these sorts of SHITS still gets passed down, from one generation to the next, like D.N.A.???) and this daughter is going to, have a very difficult time, getting closer to her mother that’s for sure…

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Seeing the Love without Boundaries from a Foreign Spouse

How the kindness cycled around, from the Front Page Sections, translated…

Last week, I’d gone to a free clinic session for the foreign worker fishermen, because most of the fishermen were from Indonesia, so there was a translator alongside me all the way; I’d had the spare time, and struck up a conversation with her.

“I’d seen you every single time in the free clinics, you’re always smiling, very kind and gentle, you’re, a rare gem!”, I’d commended her.  “Doctor, you thought too much of me, they’re my countrymen, floated across to Taiwan to work, I’m glad, that I can, be of some sort of minute assistance.”

I’d asked her where she came from, “I lived in Jakarta originally, my father is a catering chef, with an unstable income, and there are, too many mouths to feed, and so, in my high school years, I’d, married to Kaohsiung, hoping, to make some extra money, to wire it back home, to help with my family, but………”, she’d taken a very long inhale, continued, “not long after we were wed, my husband was diagnosed with oral cancer, after three surgeries, countless electrotherapy sessions, he could no longer work”.  What made her situation worse was, as her kids rode together on a scooter to visit their father at the hospital, they were hit by a car, her daughter was injured severely, in the I.C.U., her son with fractures, and needing surgery.

Back then, she was looking after her elderly in-laws on her own, her sick husband, and her injured children, she felt hopeless.  But thankfully, her parents in Indonesia wired some money for her, and her eldest sister who’d married to Malaysia flew over especially to help her out too for three months; more importantly, the national health insurance coverages, it’d, helped her out with the costs of the treatments; she’d worked as a translator at the agency during the daytime, at night, she’d gone to school, to hone up on her Chinese skills, her son part-timed through school, they were, just, getting by.

“Actually, the Taiwanese people are quite helpful, I’d met a ton of those who were willing to go out of their ways to assist me, by just being there for emotional support, or those who’d, offered to help me with my finances.  I’m grateful, and in order to pay them back, I’d, signed on these sorts of voluntary work, to make what I can do useful and helpful, and this time, I’d, brought along my children who’d healed from their injuries to volunteer also, to make sure they will note, the love that’s, without the borders in Taiwan.”

Her husband may not be well-educated, or made a lot of money, but she’d, loved Taiwan like it was her home country, as the trials came, she’d, taken them all in, no complaints, no regrets, she’d, utilized her spare time, to hone up on her skills, to acculturate herself into the local communities, and knew to give back, she is, the model citizen for all of the foreign spouses that’s for sure!

And, this, is how this woman was, driven by the cycle of kindness, she was shown kindness when she was in need, when her family had problems, she’d received help from all around her, and that was what drove her, to give back now.

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Filed under A Cycle of Kindness, Because of Love, Being Alone, Connections, Cost of Living, Getting Treatment, Helping Behaviors, Kindness Shown, Lessons, News Stories, Observations, Overcoming Obstacles, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Social Issues, Socialization, Values

What? I’m Korean!

Finding out why, and, letting go of that feeling of being betrayed, realizing, that what the adults in your life did, was what they thought was, best for you, translated…

Ever since I could recall, I’d lived alone, with my mother in Korea, we’d never spent, a day apart. Later, I’d come to Taiwan to study, to marry, to have children, and settled down in Taipei, with my mother there, by my side. But, shortly after she passed, my former classmates from Korea sent me a weird news: there were, a couple of Koreans who were, desperately, searching for me, and claimed that they were, my relatives.

How’s that possible? Am I, zoomed in, by the international scam artists?

From before when there was only a small circle of Asians we’d associated ourselves with, there’s, that invisible sense of pride from being Chinese, that was, that sense of superiority of being Chinese, not wanting to be with the Koreans, we were, living, on someone else’s land, but felt, that they were, second class citizens. This weird belief, showed the most when someone is arguing with an Asian person, when we only needed to blurt out, “You looked like a Korean!”, it was, the biggest sort of insult to the individual, and, the person you’re arguing with will totally get outraged when you’d called them that.

korean children adopted 的圖片結果like this family???  Photo from online…

Growing up in this sort of an atmosphere, I’d only begged to pass the Korean language exams, and, every other course in high school, I’d made straight A’s, only Korean, I’d scored toward the bottom; and, my communication abilities was just enough, for me to use when I go shopping in the marketplaces.

When the Korean who’d come met me to show me he was related to me, he’d provided the adoption papers, and photos of me as a young child, mailed everything to me, and, all of those, “evidences” proved, that I was, a Korean, heads down!

Isn’t it outrageous, thinking that I was, Chinese all along, and then, I turned out to be, Korean? This was, the biggest kind of irony. I refused to admit that I was, Korean, I hated that classmate who’d, exposed me for who I was, and I’d, hated my birthmother, for giving me up for adoption.

After six months’ worth of struggles, my second eldest sister kept making those international calls to care for me, and, repeatedly, sent the presents to my husband and my two children, and my heart finally, started, to disarm itself, and finally agreed to, meet with them.

In the city of Suwon, I’d finally, met my five sisters and my younger brother. All these middle-aged uncles and aunts, as they’d, described of the hardship and trials they’d weathered through in life, I’d not heard a single word of complaint, their persistence, optimism, passion, comparing to my own prejudices, my aloofness, my dissatisfactions, made me so ashamed I wanted to find a hole to hide in.

What right had I, to hold my prejudices against Koreans? And, why can’t I understand, the pains and hardships my mother who’d carried me for ten whole months, and know how trying it must’ve been, for her, to give me up for adoption? Had it been not my birthfather’s death when he was way too young, had it not been my mother being too young, and needed to remarry, had it not been for my second eldest sister crying for one whole weeks at my adopted mother’s home, and got “returned”, and I got sent up for adoption, my fate would’ve been, so totally, different, how could I have gotten to live as an only child, cherished, sent to Taiwan for my college years, to become a teacher, to meet a good man, and marry and have children.

korean children adopted 的圖片結果or this???  Photo from online…

And now, both my mothers had passed, but the love they had for me, was enough, to last me, my whole life. Toward my birthmother, other than being grateful, there’s, that extra understanding; for my adoptive mother, other than, being grateful, there’s that sense of, missing her forever!

And so, it’s all due to fate, that this had, happened, and, back when you were a child, you may not understand WHY it was, that you were, given up for adoption, and perhaps, you’d carried the resentments toward your birthparents, for giving you up, and your adoptive parents, to keeping the truth from you, but, as you got older, and started your own family, you’d, realized, that given the situations of your past, all those adults did what they thought was, best for you, and, you’d become, grateful, for having everything that you have in life…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Adoption, Awareness, Because of Love, Childhood, Choices, Connections, Cost of Living, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, Perspectives, Socialization, Things Left Behind, Values

In Love with Batik

Made a fool of himself, because he’d not gotten to know what sort of an attire the batik was! Translated…

On the weekends, the Taipei Main Station became a gathering place for the migrant workers. Seeing those Indonesian migrant workers put on their Batik (printed cloth, dyed with wax), I was reminded of thirty years ago, as I was, sent to Jakarta to work, I’d bought two suits, to be like the locals!

batik 的圖片結果a sample of the cloth…found online…

I’d found the prints that were, plainer, the colors, not so bright, and I’d felt very crisp, wearing the Batik. The only regret I have, was that I’d not, have the opportunities, to wear it out to show it off.

Back then, there were, more and more Indonesian trading companies set up in Taiwan. We are, a shipbuilding company, with a lot of clients, and, we’d gone to the airports, twice, or thrice per week to pick up our clients. And, shortly after, in order to fulfill the needs, China Airlines started having the no-transfer flights from Taipei, but, the flights arrive at eight at night. Here comes my chance, I can get off work, go home, take a shower, change into my Batik, and go pick up the clients.

And maybe, our skin color was lighter than the locals, that, it’d made us, stand out, that some of the locals would see us, and look back, and smile at us. Then, I’d, noticed, that there was, a female police officer by the gates, who’d looked at me, and smiled lightly. I can’t be uncourteous, I’d, nodded in acknowledgement toward her too, and smiled my gentleman’s smile. Then, after awhile, every time I arrived, she’d always, flashed that smile toward me, and sometimes, she would really be, grinning, ear to ear towards me. And, the female coworker close by would give her a nudge, encourage her to come and talk to me.

here’s a person, wearing batik, from online still…person wearing batik 的圖片結果

Then one day, as I’d, entered into the corridors, before I could stand up straight, I saw her, walking straight toward me, and I can tell, she was, blushed. My heart rac’ed a bit, but, I’d, warned myself, getting sent to Indonesia is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for work, NOT for romance. I have a beautiful wife, a cute son at home, this, is unacceptable.

That female officer walked toward me, said lightly, “Sir”.

Wow, she spoke Chinese.

She’d gotten closer to me, and said, very lightly to me, “Can you, not wear the pajamas, to the airports?”

So, this, is something that’s, interesting about culture, because you’re, in a different culture, and, the way they dress, is different than what you’re used to, and like this man had, bought the batik, which was originally supposed to be used a pajamas, and he’d, worn it out…cultural differences, is what we all need to, watch out for when we enter a different country from our own!

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Filed under Awareness, Cause & Effect, Choices, Connections, Expectations, Interactions Shared with the World, Lessons, Life, Observations, Properties of Life, Social Awareness, Socialization, The Observer Effect, Values, Wake Up Calls