To the west and north of my property are bamboo groves. The old path up the mountain goes west beyond the bamboo, within earshot, but out of sight from my house. A couple of years ago, the town hall shored up the path with old railroad ties for the convenience and safety of hikers, but very few people ever use that trail. From time to time, a work crew is dispatched to keep the trail free from undergrowth.
Early this afternoon, I heard someone calling me. I went out to be greeted by the work crew, about eight Tayal. “Yugan, today we are clearing the path. Will your dogs bite us?”
“No, but they will lick you.”
I left them to their work. A few hours later, Batu came by and called. “Yugan! We are taking a break. Come chat with us. Bring your dogs to play with us.”
I went out and sat on the trail chatting with them. Batu circled around, and discovered my poor Giant Bamboo. I have two stands of Giant Bamboo, which, true to their name, grow tall and thick, even though our climate is much cooler than their native Malaysia. Unfortunately, they do not have strong roots, and both stands got knocked flat by Typhoon Dujuan late in the summer. I suppose now I should call them lies of bamboo, not stands.
I had sawed the fallen bamboo into sections and left it there to dry as I figure out if there is any use I could find for it. Batu beat me to it. He came to us with a six foot section over his shoulder, singing and beating out a rhythm with a stick. Everybody joined in, singing and clapping.
Batu lay the bamboo across the path. Hayung chopped off a tree branch to prop up one end of the bamboo, which is about as thick as my thigh. The other end was wedged into the side of the path. Batu and Lmuy started beating rhythms with bamboo sticks, but Batu's sticks were rotten and broke. I picked a soki and chopped two drum sticks from a qesu tree, and gave them to Batu. I sat down and steadied the free end of the bamboo drum. The hollow bamboo sticks played soprano to the tenor qesu sticks, and I provided bass by beating the bamboo with my palms. Work was forgotten. Pretty soon Batu handed his sticks to Hayung and started dancing. His dancing was so burlesque that everybody dissolved into laughter. Sayun joined him. They pretended to be a pair of lovers, hamming it up as we laughed. Somebody shouted, “Belly dance!” We all took up the shout, so Batu started performing a belly dance (This is the first time I have seen two belly dances within one week. Friday on Third Street in Santa Monica, a black lady in a gold costume performed a belly dance to the rhythm of her finger cymbals. Today, Batu. An interesting contrast.) As he danced, he held up his tee shirt, but after half a dozen grinds, Lmuy pulled his shirt up over his head. Batu almost danced off the path, but was pulled back in time. Then Lmuy and Batu performed a waltz: another first for me: the first time I have ever seen anybody waltzing in a bamboo grove. That didn't last long, because Lmuy complained Batu's footwork was off, so she reached down to pull his leg into the right position. That was too much for me: “Are you dancing or wrestling?”
After a few more numbers, everybody decided that it was time to quit work for the day. “Yugan! We have done our work for today, and we are happy. We will come back tomorrow. Will you come play the bamboo drum with us again tomorrow?”
Of course!
Saturday, December 20, 2003
Thursday, December 18, 2003
What miracles we take for granted!
December 18, I set out in a Singapore Airlines 747 on an utterly routine (I hope) flight across the great Pacific Ocean to LA. Almost exactly one hundred years earlier (consider the time difference between Taipei time and Eastern Standard), the Wright Brothers launched their plane off the surface of the earth to make the first powered flight. Their momentous little hop would not have taken them from the fuselage to the wingtip of a 747!
How far we have come in a short one hundred years!
Now, if only morals advanced as quickly.
December 18, I set out in a Singapore Airlines 747 on an utterly routine (I hope) flight across the great Pacific Ocean to LA. Almost exactly one hundred years earlier (consider the time difference between Taipei time and Eastern Standard), the Wright Brothers launched their plane off the surface of the earth to make the first powered flight. Their momentous little hop would not have taken them from the fuselage to the wingtip of a 747!
How far we have come in a short one hundred years!
Now, if only morals advanced as quickly.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
How to Get to My Place
I have discovered that I have an excellent line of defense.
People trying to find my place asking at the last house on Huanshan Road before the turnoff to the sideroad leading to my track are apt to encounter Laowa. First, let me state that although she is fluent in Tayal, she is actually an Amis, our only long-term resident Amis, I believe. I forget how she ended up in Wulai, but she is almost always there in her little roadside house to befuddle the passerby with her impenetrable directions.
“Oh, you're looking for the American? You mean Yugan? I've never heard of him. Does he live around here? I don't know. Well, there is a house up there somewhere, but I'm not sure. You're trying to find the American, right? No, I don't know him, I'm not sure where he lives. The one with dogs, right? His name is Yugan, right? No, I've never heard of him. He lives uphill somewhere. You might try the next turnoff, but he doesn't live there. Well, I don't know. He has beautiful dogs. Now he has three of them. The little puppy is named Yumin. My son Bilao loves dogs, but we're right by the road, so it's dangerous for dogs. Look at Tunux next door. She was a beautiful, intelligent little dog, so some sightseer from the city stole her! Isn't that terrible! Stealing a dog from someone! And taking a mountain dog to the city is especially cruel. How can they live in an apartment? Look at Yugan's dogs, they couldn't live in the city, they are mountain dogs. Who? Yugan? An American? Never heard of him. Does he live around here? Really? An American lives around here? Where? You don't know? I don't know, either. Maybe uphill somewhere. I hear there's an American living around here. I don't know him. He teaches English, yes, that's the one. I asked him to teach my son Bilao, but he said, Not yet, Laowa, wait till he's bigger, I don't teach kids, they're uyuq yungay, that means baby monkeys in Tayal, Yugan can speak Tayal. Yes, he's American. Yes, the English teacher. You mean Yugan? An English teacher? Yugan? An American? Never heard of him. You mean the one with dogs? Yes, of course, his place is not by the road, so it's a good place to raise dogs. Every time he comes down with his dogs, he has to tie Yumin on a leash. Yumin is a beagle, he's a puppy, so he doesn't understand cars. My son Bilao loves dogs. Every time he sees Yugan with his dogs, He says, Mama, I want a dog like Yugan's. But I tell him, Bilao, we live too close to the road, these sightseers from the city drive like maniacs. Yugan? Oh yes. Yugan lives near here, but it's very far away. I don't know where his house is. Up near the spring. Which spring? Why, the spring Yutas gets his water from, that spring. He pipes it down from there. So do Meilu and Banzi and Mulang too. No, Mulang lives downhill, and Yugan lives uphill. Not this road, the next one, but it doesn't go there….”
Laowa can go on like that ad infinitum, but after a few minutes, strong men break into tears. All but the hardiest, the most determined, are ready to flee the mountains.
Yeah, so sure, come on up for a visit some day. If you can't find my place, just ask anybody. Especially Laowa.
I have discovered that I have an excellent line of defense.
People trying to find my place asking at the last house on Huanshan Road before the turnoff to the sideroad leading to my track are apt to encounter Laowa. First, let me state that although she is fluent in Tayal, she is actually an Amis, our only long-term resident Amis, I believe. I forget how she ended up in Wulai, but she is almost always there in her little roadside house to befuddle the passerby with her impenetrable directions.
“Oh, you're looking for the American? You mean Yugan? I've never heard of him. Does he live around here? I don't know. Well, there is a house up there somewhere, but I'm not sure. You're trying to find the American, right? No, I don't know him, I'm not sure where he lives. The one with dogs, right? His name is Yugan, right? No, I've never heard of him. He lives uphill somewhere. You might try the next turnoff, but he doesn't live there. Well, I don't know. He has beautiful dogs. Now he has three of them. The little puppy is named Yumin. My son Bilao loves dogs, but we're right by the road, so it's dangerous for dogs. Look at Tunux next door. She was a beautiful, intelligent little dog, so some sightseer from the city stole her! Isn't that terrible! Stealing a dog from someone! And taking a mountain dog to the city is especially cruel. How can they live in an apartment? Look at Yugan's dogs, they couldn't live in the city, they are mountain dogs. Who? Yugan? An American? Never heard of him. Does he live around here? Really? An American lives around here? Where? You don't know? I don't know, either. Maybe uphill somewhere. I hear there's an American living around here. I don't know him. He teaches English, yes, that's the one. I asked him to teach my son Bilao, but he said, Not yet, Laowa, wait till he's bigger, I don't teach kids, they're uyuq yungay, that means baby monkeys in Tayal, Yugan can speak Tayal. Yes, he's American. Yes, the English teacher. You mean Yugan? An English teacher? Yugan? An American? Never heard of him. You mean the one with dogs? Yes, of course, his place is not by the road, so it's a good place to raise dogs. Every time he comes down with his dogs, he has to tie Yumin on a leash. Yumin is a beagle, he's a puppy, so he doesn't understand cars. My son Bilao loves dogs. Every time he sees Yugan with his dogs, He says, Mama, I want a dog like Yugan's. But I tell him, Bilao, we live too close to the road, these sightseers from the city drive like maniacs. Yugan? Oh yes. Yugan lives near here, but it's very far away. I don't know where his house is. Up near the spring. Which spring? Why, the spring Yutas gets his water from, that spring. He pipes it down from there. So do Meilu and Banzi and Mulang too. No, Mulang lives downhill, and Yugan lives uphill. Not this road, the next one, but it doesn't go there….”
Laowa can go on like that ad infinitum, but after a few minutes, strong men break into tears. All but the hardiest, the most determined, are ready to flee the mountains.
Yeah, so sure, come on up for a visit some day. If you can't find my place, just ask anybody. Especially Laowa.
Monday, December 15, 2003
UPS and downs
Sending parcels by UPS (United Parcel Service) is expensive, but it's worth it for the comic value alone.
Recently I ordered some merchandise, which the company suggested sending by UPS. I have not been happy with UPS service, but I acquiesced. The package was sent December 3. By December 11, I had not received it, so I sent the company an e-letter. They responded immediately with a tracking number, reporting that the UPS website listed that the package had reached Taipei at 1100 December 8. I checked the website and found the same information, so I phoned the UPS office. The lady who answered the phone said there was absolutely no information concerning that tracking number. I assured her I found the number on the UPS website. She did not believe me, and asked me to fax the email with the tracking number. After trying for 15 minutes without success to get through the UPS fax number, I gave up and phoned again. The second lady I got managed to find my number. It turns out that, in my ignorance, I was pronouncing the letter “R” in the tracking number like “are.” The second young lady kindly informed me that that letter should be pronounced “ah,” rising tone. Forgiving me for my ignorance, she said, “Oh, we mailed you your package through the post office.”
I eventually got someone in charge of deliveries. They said that on the 8th, they phoned, but were unable to deal with my answering machine, so they mailed me the package instead of leaving a message. I asked why they didn't phone again, or even attempt to deliver, and they said it was ‘not convenient.’
So now we know that the Post Office service is so much better than UPS, even UPS prefers to send packages that way.
I finally received the package from the postman on the 12th of December, nine days after it left North Carolina, about four days after it would have arrived if it had been sent by regular old air mail.
This morning I got a phone call from UPS, follow-through. When I answered the phone, I heard a young lady say, “Hello-Mr-Tao?-how-are-you-this-is-UPS-last-week-you-had-a-package-you-have-received-it-already-right-so-there-is-no-problem-ok-thank-you-goodbye” *click* lickety-split, all in one breath: “你是陶先生是不是你好這是UPS你上禮拜有個包裹已經收到了吧對不對沒有問題好了謝謝拜拜” From the time I picked up the phone until she slammed down her receiver was at most eight seconds.
Who says UPS isn't efficient?
Sending parcels by UPS (United Parcel Service) is expensive, but it's worth it for the comic value alone.
Recently I ordered some merchandise, which the company suggested sending by UPS. I have not been happy with UPS service, but I acquiesced. The package was sent December 3. By December 11, I had not received it, so I sent the company an e-letter. They responded immediately with a tracking number, reporting that the UPS website listed that the package had reached Taipei at 1100 December 8. I checked the website and found the same information, so I phoned the UPS office. The lady who answered the phone said there was absolutely no information concerning that tracking number. I assured her I found the number on the UPS website. She did not believe me, and asked me to fax the email with the tracking number. After trying for 15 minutes without success to get through the UPS fax number, I gave up and phoned again. The second lady I got managed to find my number. It turns out that, in my ignorance, I was pronouncing the letter “R” in the tracking number like “are.” The second young lady kindly informed me that that letter should be pronounced “ah,” rising tone. Forgiving me for my ignorance, she said, “Oh, we mailed you your package through the post office.”
I eventually got someone in charge of deliveries. They said that on the 8th, they phoned, but were unable to deal with my answering machine, so they mailed me the package instead of leaving a message. I asked why they didn't phone again, or even attempt to deliver, and they said it was ‘not convenient.’
So now we know that the Post Office service is so much better than UPS, even UPS prefers to send packages that way.
I finally received the package from the postman on the 12th of December, nine days after it left North Carolina, about four days after it would have arrived if it had been sent by regular old air mail.
This morning I got a phone call from UPS, follow-through. When I answered the phone, I heard a young lady say, “Hello-Mr-Tao?-how-are-you-this-is-UPS-last-week-you-had-a-package-you-have-received-it-already-right-so-there-is-no-problem-ok-thank-you-goodbye” *click* lickety-split, all in one breath: “你是陶先生是不是你好這是UPS你上禮拜有個包裹已經收到了吧對不對沒有問題好了謝謝拜拜” From the time I picked up the phone until she slammed down her receiver was at most eight seconds.
Who says UPS isn't efficient?
Sunday, December 14, 2003
老鄭看到我，馬上將小貨車靠路邊停、跳下車、衝過馬路、拉住我的袖子，眼中悲傷帶一絲的希望地問我，”陶維極，你不開車，對不對?”
“對啊。”
“你沒有汽車，對不對?”
“對啊。”
“也沒有摩托車，對不對?”
“也對啊。”
“朋友有難，一定要幫助他，才夠朋友，對不對?”
“對啊。”
“我有一件事情想請你幫忙，你是夠義氣的人，你一定要幫我這個忙!”
“到底怎麼一回事?”
老鄭把我拉過馬路，打開小貨車的後門，從裡面拿一盒一盒的衛生紙往我手上送。
“你不知道當司機的苦衷。 車子一定要有油。 每一次加油，加油站就要贈送衛生紙，可是他們從來也不想，人的食慾有限，怎麼用得完這麼多衛生紙?
“只好叫孩子多吃一點，你懂這個利害關係嗎? 偏偏女兒只想她的身材，怕發胖，顧不得做爸爸的困窘，就是拒絕吃那麼多。”
“那麼你怎麼辦?”
他繼續一盒一盒地在我手上堆。“有甚麼辦法? 只好偷偷給兒子下瀉藥。夏天冷氣開到最大，天氣冷開窗、沒收全家的棉被、外套，目的是要大家流鼻水。 浴室、廚房的毛巾、摸布都丟掉了，叫家人用衛生紙代替，沙發也丟了，放一堆衛生紙，千方百計，可是衛生紙還是有增無減。
“我前幾天打電話給我大甲的表舅，請他吃飯，他居然開口第一句話問我，’你是不是又有衛生紙，要找人幫你用?’ 我自己的表舅跟我講這種話! … 他怎麼知道?”
老鄭熱淚盈眶。“我老闆有多姦詐，你知道嗎? 每一次叫我把他的轎車開去加油，自己怎麼樣不靠近加油站，然後假裝很慷慨，說，‘有贈品你自己留著用。’ 如果喝礦泉水能拉肚子那還好…我該怎麼辦？
“我發現你們山路上直潭有個加油站沒有贈品，馬上停下來加滿油。有時候我在新店安康一帶送貨，就特地繞到直潭去加油。”這個時候我手上衛生紙太多，已經看不到他。老鄭哼了一陣、哈了一陣，就問，“你要不要喝礦泉水？”
“謝了，我家裡喝的就是礦泉水，不用瓶子裝的。”蹐蹐後退，想趁早逃脫，可是講到『水』給了我一個靈感。 “老鄭，你不是有親戚住清水嗎?”
“我太太娘家的。 我不想把關係搞壞。”
“我教你。 你跟他們講，臺大醫院研究出一個秘方，整個房子地板用衛生紙鋪滿，可以預防SARS,可是因為他們怕衛生紙價飆長，所以現在還是保密…”
老鄭眉顏間的愁雲終於放晴了。 他一語不發，跳上車，笑哈哈地開走。 看樣子，他是往清水開的。
但是我告訴你，如果有遠親啊、久違的朋友啊、失去聯絡多年的小學同學之類的人物突然出現，說要傳授一個預防SARS的秘方，你還是小心一點。先問他有沒有開車再說。
“對啊。”
“你沒有汽車，對不對?”
“對啊。”
“也沒有摩托車，對不對?”
“也對啊。”
“朋友有難，一定要幫助他，才夠朋友，對不對?”
“對啊。”
“我有一件事情想請你幫忙，你是夠義氣的人，你一定要幫我這個忙!”
“到底怎麼一回事?”
老鄭把我拉過馬路，打開小貨車的後門，從裡面拿一盒一盒的衛生紙往我手上送。
“你不知道當司機的苦衷。 車子一定要有油。 每一次加油，加油站就要贈送衛生紙，可是他們從來也不想，人的食慾有限，怎麼用得完這麼多衛生紙?
“只好叫孩子多吃一點，你懂這個利害關係嗎? 偏偏女兒只想她的身材，怕發胖，顧不得做爸爸的困窘，就是拒絕吃那麼多。”
“那麼你怎麼辦?”
他繼續一盒一盒地在我手上堆。“有甚麼辦法? 只好偷偷給兒子下瀉藥。夏天冷氣開到最大，天氣冷開窗、沒收全家的棉被、外套，目的是要大家流鼻水。 浴室、廚房的毛巾、摸布都丟掉了，叫家人用衛生紙代替，沙發也丟了，放一堆衛生紙，千方百計，可是衛生紙還是有增無減。
“我前幾天打電話給我大甲的表舅，請他吃飯，他居然開口第一句話問我，’你是不是又有衛生紙，要找人幫你用?’ 我自己的表舅跟我講這種話! … 他怎麼知道?”
老鄭熱淚盈眶。“我老闆有多姦詐，你知道嗎? 每一次叫我把他的轎車開去加油，自己怎麼樣不靠近加油站，然後假裝很慷慨，說，‘有贈品你自己留著用。’ 如果喝礦泉水能拉肚子那還好…我該怎麼辦？
“我發現你們山路上直潭有個加油站沒有贈品，馬上停下來加滿油。有時候我在新店安康一帶送貨，就特地繞到直潭去加油。”這個時候我手上衛生紙太多，已經看不到他。老鄭哼了一陣、哈了一陣，就問，“你要不要喝礦泉水？”
“謝了，我家裡喝的就是礦泉水，不用瓶子裝的。”蹐蹐後退，想趁早逃脫，可是講到『水』給了我一個靈感。 “老鄭，你不是有親戚住清水嗎?”
“我太太娘家的。 我不想把關係搞壞。”
“我教你。 你跟他們講，臺大醫院研究出一個秘方，整個房子地板用衛生紙鋪滿，可以預防SARS,可是因為他們怕衛生紙價飆長，所以現在還是保密…”
老鄭眉顏間的愁雲終於放晴了。 他一語不發，跳上車，笑哈哈地開走。 看樣子，他是往清水開的。
但是我告訴你，如果有遠親啊、久違的朋友啊、失去聯絡多年的小學同學之類的人物突然出現，說要傳授一個預防SARS的秘方，你還是小心一點。先問他有沒有開車再說。
Saturday, December 13, 2003
A great shame. I recently saw a wonderful article on the web, and now I can't find it.
It seems that a bus driver in Nigeria had a contract to pick up a load of mental patients and transport them from one hospital to another. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on where you're sitting), when the driver stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank, his passengers departed en masse. To get paid, the driver had to deliver a full load of passengers. Quick thinking: he drove up to a crowded bus stop, got a bus load of passengers, and delivered them to the mental hospital, unobtrusively warning the orderlies that the whole lot of them were delirious liars. Took three days to clear things up.
Last time I took his bus, I told this story to my friend Eban, the bus driver. He sort of smiled, and got a dreamy look in his eyes.
It seems that a bus driver in Nigeria had a contract to pick up a load of mental patients and transport them from one hospital to another. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on where you're sitting), when the driver stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank, his passengers departed en masse. To get paid, the driver had to deliver a full load of passengers. Quick thinking: he drove up to a crowded bus stop, got a bus load of passengers, and delivered them to the mental hospital, unobtrusively warning the orderlies that the whole lot of them were delirious liars. Took three days to clear things up.
Last time I took his bus, I told this story to my friend Eban, the bus driver. He sort of smiled, and got a dreamy look in his eyes.
Thursday, December 11, 2003
二十幾年來，平均每隔兩年要聽一次這個故事：
有一個人在臺灣鄉村遊玩、一對阿公阿媽請他喝茶、遊客發現他們用了幾十年的老茶壺被他們養的茶質滲透、瓦磚老壺竟然日積月累變成了絕倫的妙壺、於是乎出高價求他們割愛、但是因為身上帶的錢不夠、說過兩天再送錢來、結果過兩天送錢來時、 阿公阿媽說、那個茶壺那麼髒、歹勢給你帶回台北給人看、所以我們把它刷乾淨了、那個人一看、絕倫妙壺一刷又變回瓦磚老壺、一文不值、於是乎揮淚、空手回都市、
怎麼樣? 你也聽過很多遍吧。 我記得第一次聽，下鄉的是一個台北年輕人，後來變成高雄的巨富、中央研究院的學者、日本茶道大師、新加坡的政壇要員、外國人… 聽了二十幾年，只有 James Bond 與外星人還沒來買壺。
那一對阿公阿媽的茶壺可真多! 仁人君子若有空，勞駕一下，去跟他們講，不要再刷了!! 學不乖! 就讓那個台北年輕人、高雄巨富、中央研究院學者、日本茶道大師、新加坡政壇要員、外國人開開心心地買回去，讓這個故事就此結束!
有一個人在臺灣鄉村遊玩、一對阿公阿媽請他喝茶、遊客發現他們用了幾十年的老茶壺被他們養的茶質滲透、瓦磚老壺竟然日積月累變成了絕倫的妙壺、於是乎出高價求他們割愛、但是因為身上帶的錢不夠、說過兩天再送錢來、結果過兩天送錢來時、 阿公阿媽說、那個茶壺那麼髒、歹勢給你帶回台北給人看、所以我們把它刷乾淨了、那個人一看、絕倫妙壺一刷又變回瓦磚老壺、一文不值、於是乎揮淚、空手回都市、
怎麼樣? 你也聽過很多遍吧。 我記得第一次聽，下鄉的是一個台北年輕人，後來變成高雄的巨富、中央研究院的學者、日本茶道大師、新加坡的政壇要員、外國人… 聽了二十幾年，只有 James Bond 與外星人還沒來買壺。
那一對阿公阿媽的茶壺可真多! 仁人君子若有空，勞駕一下，去跟他們講，不要再刷了!! 學不乖! 就讓那個台北年輕人、高雄巨富、中央研究院學者、日本茶道大師、新加坡政壇要員、外國人開開心心地買回去，讓這個故事就此結束!
Monday, December 08, 2003
There was once in China Duke Yi of Wei. He loved his cranes. When he wasn't engaged in the serious work of drinking and womanizing, Duke Yi spent all his time tending to his beloved cranes, watching them fly, listening to their calls.
In the 9th year of his reign, 660 BC, the 翟Di barbarians came out of the north and attacked Wei. Duke Yi called out the army. The army declined to stir, saying, “Our duke loves cranes. Please order your cranes to attack the barbarians.” The Di barbarians entered Wei and killed Duke Yi.
The moral of this story is, if you're going to go overboard on your pets, raise tigers.
己卯春分
依左閔二年傳
In the 9th year of his reign, 660 BC, the 翟Di barbarians came out of the north and attacked Wei. Duke Yi called out the army. The army declined to stir, saying, “Our duke loves cranes. Please order your cranes to attack the barbarians.” The Di barbarians entered Wei and killed Duke Yi.
The moral of this story is, if you're going to go overboard on your pets, raise tigers.
己卯春分
依左閔二年傳
Friday, December 05, 2003
Who Did the Top?
With the topping off of Taipei 101, Taipei now has the world's tallest office building. It's colossal. The effect is magnified by its solitude. This is not New York, with rows and rows of behemoths. Around it are rinky-dink twenty story buildings, and way off at the Train Station is what has become the second tallest building, at about fifty stories. The 101 rears up alone, a giant chopstick in the Taipei sky. You can see its top from back in the mountains.
Agogo was wondering, “How worked on the top half? Who's going to be hanging up there in the middle of the sky building that thing?
”Yugan, I used to do construction work, you know. In Taichung (central Taiwan), I worked on the outside of a 47 storey building. It was terrible! The wind was strong, and I was out alone on the scaffolding.
“Above the 30th floor, there were only aborigine construction workers. None of the Han Chinese dared to come up so high. Above the 30th floor, it was mostly Amis and Bunun, and some of us Tayal. Above the 40th floor, everybody was trembling.
“Yugan, it was frightening. They had iron scaffolding thrown together. The people who made the scaffolding must have been frightened, because they just did a quick job. There is the iron scaffolding, no outside wall, and to walk on, a board about as wide as my shoulders. That is all you had to stand on. You look down, oh, Yugan, you don't want to look down! I had on a safety belt, but I knew that if I fell, who would come rescue me? I knew I would just dangle there, over 40 stories up in the air, until somebody drummed up the courage to come rescue me ~ I would be frightened to death long before any rescuers came.”
“If it was so bad, why did you go up?”
“The day before, an Amis had been bolting the exterior on the top floor, the 47th floor. He bolted on three plates. Then he threw up his lunch and sat down and couldn't stand up again. They had to get another Amis to go out and carry him back.
“I figured, if the Amis are afraid, I will show them what a Tayal can do! There were nine more plates left to bolt. I took the elevator up all the way to the top. I got out and looked at that little board I had to walk on. I looked down. Oh! No, I would not look down. I kept my head up. I had my bolts in my pockets, big bolts the size of my fist.”
“You mean you were alone up there?”
“I was the only one on the top storey. Below me, men were working on the 46th floor. Tsiy was there, you know, Losin's brother-in-law? He was working on the 46th floor, but most of them were Amis and Bunun. Everybody was trembling. Nobody talked.”
“What would have happened if you dropped something?”
“It would have fallen. But my wrench was on a safety line.”
“In the morning, I bolted five plates. Usually I can bolt sixteen plates in a day, but you can't forget how high you are, so you work slowly. The wind is very strong. They may have a good view up that high, but I didn't want to see it!
“I had a quick lunch and went back to work. I wanted to get it over with. I was so frightened I couldn't work very fast, and I was getting tired very quickly.
“When I reached my last bolt, I was so tired I dropped my wrench. When I saw it fall, I was so scared I threw up. Then I sat down on that little board and rested a while. Finally, I pulled it back up to me and put on the last bolt. As soon as I finished that, I crawled back off the scaffolding as fast as I could. I crawled all the way into the elevator! Then when the elevator reached the ground, my legs gave out on me, and I sat down on the ground with my back against the wall. I didn't want to look up to see how high I had been.
“I went to the office and phoned the boss. I said, ‘Boss, this is Agogo, I quit,’ and hung up. He phoned back and said he would give me a reward. He asked me how many plates I bolted, and I said, ‘Nine, I finished the work on the exterior of the 47th floor, and I quit!’ He said he would give me extra pay, but asked me to stay on the job. ‘Work on the third floor, how about that, Agogo?’ ‘Third floor?’ I said. ‘I can do the third floor. But from now on, I am not going higher than the tenth floor!’”
With the topping off of Taipei 101, Taipei now has the world's tallest office building. It's colossal. The effect is magnified by its solitude. This is not New York, with rows and rows of behemoths. Around it are rinky-dink twenty story buildings, and way off at the Train Station is what has become the second tallest building, at about fifty stories. The 101 rears up alone, a giant chopstick in the Taipei sky. You can see its top from back in the mountains.
Agogo was wondering, “How worked on the top half? Who's going to be hanging up there in the middle of the sky building that thing?
”Yugan, I used to do construction work, you know. In Taichung (central Taiwan), I worked on the outside of a 47 storey building. It was terrible! The wind was strong, and I was out alone on the scaffolding.
“Above the 30th floor, there were only aborigine construction workers. None of the Han Chinese dared to come up so high. Above the 30th floor, it was mostly Amis and Bunun, and some of us Tayal. Above the 40th floor, everybody was trembling.
“Yugan, it was frightening. They had iron scaffolding thrown together. The people who made the scaffolding must have been frightened, because they just did a quick job. There is the iron scaffolding, no outside wall, and to walk on, a board about as wide as my shoulders. That is all you had to stand on. You look down, oh, Yugan, you don't want to look down! I had on a safety belt, but I knew that if I fell, who would come rescue me? I knew I would just dangle there, over 40 stories up in the air, until somebody drummed up the courage to come rescue me ~ I would be frightened to death long before any rescuers came.”
“If it was so bad, why did you go up?”
“The day before, an Amis had been bolting the exterior on the top floor, the 47th floor. He bolted on three plates. Then he threw up his lunch and sat down and couldn't stand up again. They had to get another Amis to go out and carry him back.
“I figured, if the Amis are afraid, I will show them what a Tayal can do! There were nine more plates left to bolt. I took the elevator up all the way to the top. I got out and looked at that little board I had to walk on. I looked down. Oh! No, I would not look down. I kept my head up. I had my bolts in my pockets, big bolts the size of my fist.”
“You mean you were alone up there?”
“I was the only one on the top storey. Below me, men were working on the 46th floor. Tsiy was there, you know, Losin's brother-in-law? He was working on the 46th floor, but most of them were Amis and Bunun. Everybody was trembling. Nobody talked.”
“What would have happened if you dropped something?”
“It would have fallen. But my wrench was on a safety line.”
“In the morning, I bolted five plates. Usually I can bolt sixteen plates in a day, but you can't forget how high you are, so you work slowly. The wind is very strong. They may have a good view up that high, but I didn't want to see it!
“I had a quick lunch and went back to work. I wanted to get it over with. I was so frightened I couldn't work very fast, and I was getting tired very quickly.
“When I reached my last bolt, I was so tired I dropped my wrench. When I saw it fall, I was so scared I threw up. Then I sat down on that little board and rested a while. Finally, I pulled it back up to me and put on the last bolt. As soon as I finished that, I crawled back off the scaffolding as fast as I could. I crawled all the way into the elevator! Then when the elevator reached the ground, my legs gave out on me, and I sat down on the ground with my back against the wall. I didn't want to look up to see how high I had been.
“I went to the office and phoned the boss. I said, ‘Boss, this is Agogo, I quit,’ and hung up. He phoned back and said he would give me a reward. He asked me how many plates I bolted, and I said, ‘Nine, I finished the work on the exterior of the 47th floor, and I quit!’ He said he would give me extra pay, but asked me to stay on the job. ‘Work on the third floor, how about that, Agogo?’ ‘Third floor?’ I said. ‘I can do the third floor. But from now on, I am not going higher than the tenth floor!’”
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
No Willpower Whatsoever
Walking past the Tribe on my way to the bus, I heard shrieks and shouts behind me, and turned around just as Ciana was leaping up on me. I have mentioned she is my favorite little kid in the Tribe, have known her since she was a babe in arms, about nine or ten now. She and two other little girls were playing badminton when they saw me go by, and came after me.
“Why aren't you in school?”
“Wednesday afternoon we're off.”
“That's right, today's Wednesday. That's good, I was about to go take you to the principal and have you thrashed for cutting school.”
“You'd never do that, Yugan. Are you going to teach?”
“Yes, I have to go catch my bus”
”Oh, please, play badminton with us first.”
”No can do, I have to go catch my bus.”
”PLEASE, Yugan!” Then they all three looked up at me hopefully with their big eyes. You think Chinese kids are cute, you should see Aborigine kids.
So that's why I spent five minutes leaping about by the side of the road playing badminton with three little girls. I figured, there's another bus twenty minutes later, and it's not the end of the world if I miss this one. You have to have some priorities in life. And say, one of these little girls, Ciana's cousin, is good! She doesn't know how to serve, but she sure can give you your money's worth on a return! This with a drabbled shuttlecock and a racquet that doesn't have a flat face.
(actually, that may be the reason they were so eager for me to play with them. None of them knows how to serve. They'd throw the shuttlecock to me and ask me to serve.)
But then all three of them had had a turn, so they graciously let me go. I hurried, and caught my bus anyway.
Walking past the Tribe on my way to the bus, I heard shrieks and shouts behind me, and turned around just as Ciana was leaping up on me. I have mentioned she is my favorite little kid in the Tribe, have known her since she was a babe in arms, about nine or ten now. She and two other little girls were playing badminton when they saw me go by, and came after me.
“Why aren't you in school?”
“Wednesday afternoon we're off.”
“That's right, today's Wednesday. That's good, I was about to go take you to the principal and have you thrashed for cutting school.”
“You'd never do that, Yugan. Are you going to teach?”
“Yes, I have to go catch my bus”
”Oh, please, play badminton with us first.”
”No can do, I have to go catch my bus.”
”PLEASE, Yugan!” Then they all three looked up at me hopefully with their big eyes. You think Chinese kids are cute, you should see Aborigine kids.
So that's why I spent five minutes leaping about by the side of the road playing badminton with three little girls. I figured, there's another bus twenty minutes later, and it's not the end of the world if I miss this one. You have to have some priorities in life. And say, one of these little girls, Ciana's cousin, is good! She doesn't know how to serve, but she sure can give you your money's worth on a return! This with a drabbled shuttlecock and a racquet that doesn't have a flat face.
(actually, that may be the reason they were so eager for me to play with them. None of them knows how to serve. They'd throw the shuttlecock to me and ask me to serve.)
But then all three of them had had a turn, so they graciously let me go. I hurried, and caught my bus anyway.
Saturday, November 29, 2003
Friday, November 28, 2003
烏來是山地鄉，但也有平地人住在此。 如果想知道烏來居民是泰雅族人或者漢人，不看五官、不聽鄉音，如何分辨?
談到飛鼠。 如果他馬上說，”我們今晚去打!” 是泰雅。如果說，”肉很硬，不好吃，” 是唐漢。
如果喝酒先灑幾滴祭祖，是泰雅。否則是唐漢。
跟他約明天下午兩點。 如果他三點之前到，是唐漢。如果忘到九霄雲外，跟朋友上山去了，是泰雅。
跟他約明天下午兩點，說有個賺大錢的機會。如果他兩點十分之前到，是唐漢。如果忘到九霄雲外，跟朋友上山去了，是泰雅。
如果他常勸你『多跟老人家聊天，聽老人的話，可以學到很多東西』，是泰雅。否則是唐漢。
穿膠鞋，頭上綁毛巾，是泰雅。戴斗笠是唐漢。
問他聖誕節怎麼過。 如果反應熱絡，是泰雅。 反之，是唐漢。
問他過年怎麼過。 如果反應熱絡，是唐漢。 反之，是泰雅。
如果熟人騎摩托車時看到你，用歌唱高呼你的名字，是泰雅。如果騎過去，好像沒看到你，是唐漢(客家人之外)。
跟他提到部落的某一個人(隨便哪一個)。 如果他說，"他是我親戚! 他表嫂的妹婿娶了我小叔的老婆的姐姐，" 是泰雅。如果他說，"他是酒鬼，" 是唐漢。
中元普渡拿著香、很虔誠在溪邊拜溺斃幽靈，是唐漢。中元普渡照常在溪裡游泳， 是泰雅。
談到颱風。 如果他說，"上一個颱風很棒，我家正在風口，一個晚上沒睡，因為要看著風呀雨的，很好看!"是泰雅。如果說，"風那麼大，很討厭，只好在家裡睡大頭覺，" 是唐漢。
襁褓帶嬰孩，抱在胸前，是泰雅。背在背上，是唐漢。(這條慢慢不準)。
隨便拔一個葉子，問他，這是甚麼? 如果他詳細說這種植物生長在甚麼環境、有哪些特性、哪些作用，是泰雅。 如果他只教你怎麼吃，是唐漢。
跟他說英語。 如果他勉強跟你湊幾句，甚或用流俐的英語交談，是泰雅。如果他羞澀地表示不敢講，，是唐漢。(這條限外國人使用。)
跟他談起狗。 如果興致勃勃，是泰雅。如果興趣淡淡，是唐漢。
如果說閩南人不講信用，是泰雅。 如果說番仔不講信用，是唐漢。
說你想吃山豬肉。 如果他說，"那是保育類，不能吃‧…不過你真的想吃的話，我知道哪邊有，我們去抓，" 是泰雅。 如果馬上開個價錢，一斤多少，是唐漢。
開山刀插在背後腰間，是泰雅。長方刀掛在大腿上，是唐漢。
說話時常叫你的名字，是泰雅。否則唐漢。
說到某長輩，直稱名字，是泰雅。否則唐漢。
如果遇到人生難題，不知如何處置時說，"去問長輩"，是泰雅。如果問神卜杯，是唐漢。
稱讚烏來的風景。 如果他抬頭挺胸，一直誇烏來山水之美，是泰雅。 如果用一種很疑惑的眼神看你，完全不知道你在講甚麼，是唐漢。
年輕人戴眼鏡是唐漢。否則泰雅。
到他家。如果他跟你坐外面，是泰雅。如果他請你到客廳坐，是唐漢。
跟他談起烏來的溫泉業者。 如果破口大罵，是泰雅。如果只有抱怨，是唐漢。
牆上祖先照片有紋面，是泰雅。貢桌上有祖先牌位，是唐漢。(這條還用我講嗎?)
問他煮麻油雞時水與酒的比例。如果他詳談他祖傳的配方，是唐漢。如果他很困惑的問，"麻油雞要加水嗎?" 是泰雅。
談到飛鼠。 如果他馬上說，”我們今晚去打!” 是泰雅。如果說，”肉很硬，不好吃，” 是唐漢。
如果喝酒先灑幾滴祭祖，是泰雅。否則是唐漢。
跟他約明天下午兩點。 如果他三點之前到，是唐漢。如果忘到九霄雲外，跟朋友上山去了，是泰雅。
跟他約明天下午兩點，說有個賺大錢的機會。如果他兩點十分之前到，是唐漢。如果忘到九霄雲外，跟朋友上山去了，是泰雅。
如果他常勸你『多跟老人家聊天，聽老人的話，可以學到很多東西』，是泰雅。否則是唐漢。
穿膠鞋，頭上綁毛巾，是泰雅。戴斗笠是唐漢。
問他聖誕節怎麼過。 如果反應熱絡，是泰雅。 反之，是唐漢。
問他過年怎麼過。 如果反應熱絡，是唐漢。 反之，是泰雅。
如果熟人騎摩托車時看到你，用歌唱高呼你的名字，是泰雅。如果騎過去，好像沒看到你，是唐漢(客家人之外)。
跟他提到部落的某一個人(隨便哪一個)。 如果他說，"他是我親戚! 他表嫂的妹婿娶了我小叔的老婆的姐姐，" 是泰雅。如果他說，"他是酒鬼，" 是唐漢。
中元普渡拿著香、很虔誠在溪邊拜溺斃幽靈，是唐漢。中元普渡照常在溪裡游泳， 是泰雅。
談到颱風。 如果他說，"上一個颱風很棒，我家正在風口，一個晚上沒睡，因為要看著風呀雨的，很好看!"是泰雅。如果說，"風那麼大，很討厭，只好在家裡睡大頭覺，" 是唐漢。
襁褓帶嬰孩，抱在胸前，是泰雅。背在背上，是唐漢。(這條慢慢不準)。
隨便拔一個葉子，問他，這是甚麼? 如果他詳細說這種植物生長在甚麼環境、有哪些特性、哪些作用，是泰雅。 如果他只教你怎麼吃，是唐漢。
跟他說英語。 如果他勉強跟你湊幾句，甚或用流俐的英語交談，是泰雅。如果他羞澀地表示不敢講，，是唐漢。(這條限外國人使用。)
跟他談起狗。 如果興致勃勃，是泰雅。如果興趣淡淡，是唐漢。
如果說閩南人不講信用，是泰雅。 如果說番仔不講信用，是唐漢。
說你想吃山豬肉。 如果他說，"那是保育類，不能吃‧…不過你真的想吃的話，我知道哪邊有，我們去抓，" 是泰雅。 如果馬上開個價錢，一斤多少，是唐漢。
開山刀插在背後腰間，是泰雅。長方刀掛在大腿上，是唐漢。
說話時常叫你的名字，是泰雅。否則唐漢。
說到某長輩，直稱名字，是泰雅。否則唐漢。
如果遇到人生難題，不知如何處置時說，"去問長輩"，是泰雅。如果問神卜杯，是唐漢。
稱讚烏來的風景。 如果他抬頭挺胸，一直誇烏來山水之美，是泰雅。 如果用一種很疑惑的眼神看你，完全不知道你在講甚麼，是唐漢。
年輕人戴眼鏡是唐漢。否則泰雅。
到他家。如果他跟你坐外面，是泰雅。如果他請你到客廳坐，是唐漢。
跟他談起烏來的溫泉業者。 如果破口大罵，是泰雅。如果只有抱怨，是唐漢。
牆上祖先照片有紋面，是泰雅。貢桌上有祖先牌位，是唐漢。(這條還用我講嗎?)
問他煮麻油雞時水與酒的比例。如果他詳談他祖傳的配方，是唐漢。如果他很困惑的問，"麻油雞要加水嗎?" 是泰雅。
The Plain English Campaign has awarded Defense Secretary Rumsfeld its Foot in Mouth Award for this masterpiece:
"Reports that say something hasn't happened are interesting to me, because as we know, there are known unknowns; there things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns -- the ones we don't know we don't know."
John Lister, spokesman for the campaign which strives to have public information delivered in clear, straightforward English, said: "We think we know what he means. But we don't know if we really know."
http://www.plainenglish.co.uk/footinmouth.html
"Reports that say something hasn't happened are interesting to me, because as we know, there are known unknowns; there things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns -- the ones we don't know we don't know."
John Lister, spokesman for the campaign which strives to have public information delivered in clear, straightforward English, said: "We think we know what he means. But we don't know if we really know."
http://www.plainenglish.co.uk/footinmouth.html
Thursday, November 27, 2003
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
Assault on English
Jimmy Carter has written a novel. I will spare you some agony by not providing a link to the online excerpt. It is written by a man who has spent his life trying to understand government writing, bureaucratese, and Washingtonese. Every turgid sentence shows the scars of his struggles.
This dreadful prose is in print for one, and only one, reason: it is written by a President.
A terrifying thought has slammed into mind: will this inspire the Bushes to try their hands?
Actually, it would probably be pretty funny.
Jimmy Carter has written a novel. I will spare you some agony by not providing a link to the online excerpt. It is written by a man who has spent his life trying to understand government writing, bureaucratese, and Washingtonese. Every turgid sentence shows the scars of his struggles.
This dreadful prose is in print for one, and only one, reason: it is written by a President.
A terrifying thought has slammed into mind: will this inspire the Bushes to try their hands?
Actually, it would probably be pretty funny.
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
You think it's just barking, don't you? You hear dogs making a racket, and you think they're just barking. Well, let me tell you, there's more to it than that.
From years of living in the mountains, my ears have opened to the sounds of nature. Suddenly I find I can understand what the dogs are saying.
You might hear Yumin suddenly start yapping, then the dogs downhill chorus, arf arf arooo arf. It's not that simple, let me tell you.
What Yumin said to the evening winds is: “My feeder is trying to teach me how to shake. He says shake and I'm supposed to shake paws with him. Anybody have any opinions on that?”
The dogs downhill frantically advise him, “Yumin, don't do it! Look at him with your big puppy eyes and gnaw on his ankle or something, but don't do it! You get started down that road, there's no turning back! Don't do it, Yumin!”
Hobaq howls out in his mournful voice, "Beware! Beware!"
Hozing down at Yutas’ place tells the night, “I learned how to shake. How stupid I was! Then I had to learn how to lie down, and roll over.”
“You're lucky,” Luqa chimes in. “I knew a fellow once who learned how to sit down, lie down, and heel. Then you know what his feeder did? Made him jump through a hoop!”
“You're kidding!” Yumin replied.
All the dogs join in. “No, no, it's true. So don't do it, Yumin!”
Hobaq howls out in his mournful voice, "Beware! Beware!"
Tlahuy comments, “When I was a puppy, Feeder tried for eight months to teach Bengax and me how to shake. We sat and made big eyes and looked at him and wagged our tails, but no way we would shake paws! He finally learned his lesson, and gave up.”
Bengax said, “Remember the time he told me to shake and I lifted my paw like I was going to shake and scratched his knee instead!”
Tlahuy: “Oh, yeah, his expression was priceless. Achievement, immediately followed by disappointment.”
Bengax said, “You have to be firm, Yumin. Let them know who's in charge. Otherwise, who knows what you'll have to do!”
The Fus' ugly little Pomeranian started yapping from the living room. “At least you all are outside and free. How about me, stuck here indoors when they sing karaoke? Torture, pure torture. And if that isn't enough, they expect me to act happy when they put this little red vest on me in the winter. Oh, to be outside!”
“Ha, ha, ha,” the neighborhood dogs all laughed together. “You come outdoors? The first eagle would make a meal of you, ugly little wretch. If not the eagle, then the first snake!”
Some dog to the north changed the topic. “Say, Tlahux, did I see your feeder out digging the other day?”
“Yes,” Tlahuy replied, “He planted a vine so he'll have fresh vegetables to eat. Isn't he funny?”
”You haven't dug it up yet?”
“No, I thought I'd wait till some of you came over and we could all do it together, you know, put on the baby, make a party kind of ~~” That's when I rushed out and told them to quiet down.
So now you know what's going on when you hear the neighborhood dogs making a racket. They may be plotting death and destruction for your garden. And now you finally know why your dogs just can't learn simple tricks.
Who is training who?
From years of living in the mountains, my ears have opened to the sounds of nature. Suddenly I find I can understand what the dogs are saying.
You might hear Yumin suddenly start yapping, then the dogs downhill chorus, arf arf arooo arf. It's not that simple, let me tell you.
What Yumin said to the evening winds is: “My feeder is trying to teach me how to shake. He says shake and I'm supposed to shake paws with him. Anybody have any opinions on that?”
The dogs downhill frantically advise him, “Yumin, don't do it! Look at him with your big puppy eyes and gnaw on his ankle or something, but don't do it! You get started down that road, there's no turning back! Don't do it, Yumin!”
Hobaq howls out in his mournful voice, "Beware! Beware!"
Hozing down at Yutas’ place tells the night, “I learned how to shake. How stupid I was! Then I had to learn how to lie down, and roll over.”
“You're lucky,” Luqa chimes in. “I knew a fellow once who learned how to sit down, lie down, and heel. Then you know what his feeder did? Made him jump through a hoop!”
“You're kidding!” Yumin replied.
All the dogs join in. “No, no, it's true. So don't do it, Yumin!”
Hobaq howls out in his mournful voice, "Beware! Beware!"
Tlahuy comments, “When I was a puppy, Feeder tried for eight months to teach Bengax and me how to shake. We sat and made big eyes and looked at him and wagged our tails, but no way we would shake paws! He finally learned his lesson, and gave up.”
Bengax said, “Remember the time he told me to shake and I lifted my paw like I was going to shake and scratched his knee instead!”
Tlahuy: “Oh, yeah, his expression was priceless. Achievement, immediately followed by disappointment.”
Bengax said, “You have to be firm, Yumin. Let them know who's in charge. Otherwise, who knows what you'll have to do!”
The Fus' ugly little Pomeranian started yapping from the living room. “At least you all are outside and free. How about me, stuck here indoors when they sing karaoke? Torture, pure torture. And if that isn't enough, they expect me to act happy when they put this little red vest on me in the winter. Oh, to be outside!”
“Ha, ha, ha,” the neighborhood dogs all laughed together. “You come outdoors? The first eagle would make a meal of you, ugly little wretch. If not the eagle, then the first snake!”
Some dog to the north changed the topic. “Say, Tlahux, did I see your feeder out digging the other day?”
“Yes,” Tlahuy replied, “He planted a vine so he'll have fresh vegetables to eat. Isn't he funny?”
”You haven't dug it up yet?”
“No, I thought I'd wait till some of you came over and we could all do it together, you know, put on the baby, make a party kind of ~~” That's when I rushed out and told them to quiet down.
So now you know what's going on when you hear the neighborhood dogs making a racket. They may be plotting death and destruction for your garden. And now you finally know why your dogs just can't learn simple tricks.
Who is training who?
Monday, November 24, 2003
While I was sitting on the subway last night, for some reason an old memory suddenly popped into mind.
Just a little incident that happened when I was 17 or 18. The Tri 9 driver and I had just finished delivering pizzas to Dong Tam, my favorite little fire base on the Mekong Delta. That was our last delivery for the day, so we were heading back to Saigon when we saw some action off the side of the road. It was early afternoon, hours and hours before dark, so we decided, naturally, to stop and watch for a bit.
The plain is crisscrossed by little streams and spattered with patches of jungle amongst the rice paddies. About a hundred meters from the road, we saw two light ARVN helicopters circling above one of those bits of jungle. High above them a HUI hovered, probably directing the action. From time to time somebody on the ground shot a burst at the closer helicopters. Sounded like a machine gun. Then the choppers would circle around, get in position, and whoosh! shoot rockets down into the jungle, then BOOM and clouds of dust, followed by silence. Shortly the machine gun would open fire again, and invite another rocket.
As we watched, an old farmer plodded by, barefoot, pant legs stuffed up into his crotch, carrying a hoe over his shoulder: pretty much your standard issue Mekong Delta peasant. We asked him, “What's going on?” Without breaking stride or showing any interest, he answered, “Viet Cong.”
We watched until the shooting from the ground stopped and the choppers stopped firing rockets. Then we got in the truck and headed back for the bakery.
Mulling over this on the subway, I was thinking, in retrospect, it might not have been so wise to stand there by the road watching. If the men on the ground had made a run for it, they might not have appreciated an audience, or the chopper's rockets might not have been able to distinguish between participants and spectators. Never mind, I survived. God protects fools.
Just about then, my musings were interrupted by the lady sitting next to me. She was on her cell phone, discussing which restaurant to eat at, going on at great length and repetition about how delicious the food is at such and such a restaurant, but the last time they went there was a mistake in the bill, they almost got charged for a bowl of rice they didn't eat. In excruciating detail, she gave a blow by blow account of how she and her friends claimed they did not eat that extra bowl of rice and what the lady in the restaurant said and we said and she said and I said and she said and we said and she said and finally we didn't have to pay for that bowl of rice.
A physicist has pointed out that the name of a tiny little bone in one of your toes goes on for half a dozen syllables, but the name of the event that created the universe is The Big Bang, three simple words. Maybe when you have nothing to say, you need a lot of words.
Or maybe, if I'm going to keep writing this blog, I should delete that last comment.
Just a little incident that happened when I was 17 or 18. The Tri 9 driver and I had just finished delivering pizzas to Dong Tam, my favorite little fire base on the Mekong Delta. That was our last delivery for the day, so we were heading back to Saigon when we saw some action off the side of the road. It was early afternoon, hours and hours before dark, so we decided, naturally, to stop and watch for a bit.
The plain is crisscrossed by little streams and spattered with patches of jungle amongst the rice paddies. About a hundred meters from the road, we saw two light ARVN helicopters circling above one of those bits of jungle. High above them a HUI hovered, probably directing the action. From time to time somebody on the ground shot a burst at the closer helicopters. Sounded like a machine gun. Then the choppers would circle around, get in position, and whoosh! shoot rockets down into the jungle, then BOOM and clouds of dust, followed by silence. Shortly the machine gun would open fire again, and invite another rocket.
As we watched, an old farmer plodded by, barefoot, pant legs stuffed up into his crotch, carrying a hoe over his shoulder: pretty much your standard issue Mekong Delta peasant. We asked him, “What's going on?” Without breaking stride or showing any interest, he answered, “Viet Cong.”
We watched until the shooting from the ground stopped and the choppers stopped firing rockets. Then we got in the truck and headed back for the bakery.
Mulling over this on the subway, I was thinking, in retrospect, it might not have been so wise to stand there by the road watching. If the men on the ground had made a run for it, they might not have appreciated an audience, or the chopper's rockets might not have been able to distinguish between participants and spectators. Never mind, I survived. God protects fools.
Just about then, my musings were interrupted by the lady sitting next to me. She was on her cell phone, discussing which restaurant to eat at, going on at great length and repetition about how delicious the food is at such and such a restaurant, but the last time they went there was a mistake in the bill, they almost got charged for a bowl of rice they didn't eat. In excruciating detail, she gave a blow by blow account of how she and her friends claimed they did not eat that extra bowl of rice and what the lady in the restaurant said and we said and she said and I said and she said and we said and she said and finally we didn't have to pay for that bowl of rice.
A physicist has pointed out that the name of a tiny little bone in one of your toes goes on for half a dozen syllables, but the name of the event that created the universe is The Big Bang, three simple words. Maybe when you have nothing to say, you need a lot of words.
Or maybe, if I'm going to keep writing this blog, I should delete that last comment.
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