In January, the flowers are in full bloom.

That's right.  You are all suffering in your chilly climes, trees barren and desolate, snow and slush covering the ground.  The sky is gray and cloudy, and the merest hint of a living leaf or something green or colorful is nowhere to be found.  I, on the other hand, could smell the flowers blooming on the trees I ran past this morning.  Big, purple blossoms, giving off the most delightful scent.  The sky is blue and cloudless and it's a balmy 75 degrees.  Jealous yet?

My first semester as an ETA in Taiwan will officially be over as of Friday.  Before we get there, though, all the ETAs and other Fulbright scholars are meeting in Kenting for a Mid-Year Conference.  Kenting, you may recall, is that lovely national park on the southern tip of Taiwan, where it's even sunnier and hotter than in Kaohsiung.  Anyway, the whole point of bringing this up is so that I can subtly mention the mid-year report that we had to write.  We weren't initially given any particular guidelines for the piece except to reflect on our experience in Taiwan thus far.  Mine ended up being something I simply cannot give to Fulbright, but I am attaching it below for your potential enjoyment.  I realize it's rather lengthy, so feel free to skip around a bit and just read what catches your eye.  I hope you are as amused as I was when I wrote it!

This May Not Be What You Want to Hear.

Another Rousing Journey of Self-Exploration from one of the Umpteen Taiwan ETAs

            I’m going to preface this by saying that I have learned an exceptional amount thus far into my tenure as a Fulbright ETA in Kaohsiung.  That being said, though, I highly doubt much of it is what Fulbright wanted me to learn.  The Fulbright program has admirable goals—improving cross-cultural understanding and communication, for example.  I am, theoretically, an ambassador for my country.  As far as I can tell, the Mid-Year Report is supposed to be devoted to what you’ve learned and what life has been like for you in the country you chose.  In that vein, I am going to enumerate what I have learned—even if it’s not what you want to hear.

            My main reason for applying to this program was because it was a means to an end.  I am very interested in foreign languages and I wanted to be in a place where my Chinese could improve.  There were other reasons—at the time, I was considering a potential career as a high school math teacher, but I wanted to get some experience in a classroom before I committed to that.  I knew before I applied that my patience for young children was limited at best, and by the time I accepted my grant, I was already pretty sure I didn’t want to teach.  I didn’t apply for the program because I was passionate about teaching English, in any case; like many other Fulbrighters, I was incredibly burnt out from working so hard at school for so many years that I couldn’t handle a research grant.  I chose the ETA program simply because it was the least stressful way to immerse myself in a Chinese-speaking environment.

            It comes as no surprise, then, that it took me very little time to confirm my suspicions that I didn’t want to be a teacher.  I learned that the monotony of subject teaching was so mind-numbing that I couldn’t handle it.  It took me even less time to realize that I did not want to spend a lot of time in an environment over-run by small children.  I still have a great deal of respect for teachers; their work is admirable indeed.  I just don’t want it to be my life.  I have also discovered that I am a failure at faking enthusiasm, which seems to be a vital characteristic for an effective teacher.  Moreover, being able to split one’s attention seems absolutely necessary, and something I am totally incapable of doing.  There have been numerous occasions in which out-and-out fights have erupted in my classroom and I failed to notice because my focus was elsewhere.

            Another thing I have learned is that I want math in my life.  That may appear as a non sequitur, but when you are deprived of a thing, you realize how important it is to you.  I entered college as a French major and it only took one semester of no math classes to realize how much I missed it.  Now that I am done with college, I’ve had to consider some tough questions.  What do I want to do with my life?  What’s important to me?  What are my actual aspirations?  This year is like a gigantic pause button putting life on hold while I try to figure out some of those answers.  One answer that I have found is that I want to be somehow involved with some kind of computational mathematics.  I want to use mathematics to find solutions to real problems that have tangible effects once they are solved.  I have discovered that I am not interested in theory, not because it’s too abstract, but because it doesn’t produce real-life solutions quickly enough.  I don’t want to be in the position of developing new theory; rather, I want to use math already in existence to create change in whatever capacity that entails.

            There have also been some challenging admissions I have had to make.  For instance, it was very hard to admit to myself that I may never be fluent in Chinese, and it is even less likely that I will be literate.  Despite five solid years of study prior to moving here in August, Chinese is so challenging that one solid year here is simply not enough to create competency.  In order to become fluent in Chinese—a goal I was hoping to have made serious progress on by the time my grant ended—it would have to be a life decision.  I would have to live in a Chinese-speaking area not for one year or even for two, but for several years in order to consider myself competent.  It is undeniable that my language skills have improved, but I despair at ever reaching the point that I want to.  That kind of commitment would entail depriving myself of the company of my family for years, which, I have learned, is not something I am willing to do.

            What else have I learned?  I have learned just how much I appreciate America.  I appreciate the availability of ingredients I am interested in purchasing.  I appreciate walking into a restaurant that serves food that I want to order.  I appreciate the fact that not all food has to sit in oil to taste good.  I appreciate wide-open spaces and beautiful living areas.  I appreciate the time and effort that goes into making homes feel like home.  I appreciate peace and quiet and the lack of constant scooter traffic and exhaust.  I appreciate being able to see the stars in the sky at night and observing the changing of the seasons.  I appreciate not being stared at and photographed like a zoo animal in a cage.

            Before I get too carried away, though, I would like to mention that there have been several positive things I have learned about Taiwan in my time here so far.  Of all the countries I have ever been to (and there have been many), Taiwanese people are the nicest, without a hint of competition.  They consistently and sincerely offer help when there is the slightest suggestion that it could be desired.  There was one instance, in fact, where I was pushing my scooter down the road (flat tires make it feel so much heavier than usual), and some woman I had never met came up to me and started helping me push my scooter to the repair shop.  That blows me away!

            Though Taiwanese culture is much more Western and less Chinese than I was expecting, I have still taken many opportunities to experience the culture.  I have taken a semester of Chinese classes (with another semester coming up).  I meet with a language exchange partner on a regular basis.  Greatest of all, I have a wonderful host family that takes me places and does interesting things with me.  With them, I have learned how to make Hakka tea, I’ve gone to a Taiwanese wedding feast (a twelve-course meal—stomach that if you’re able!), I’ve visited the local art museum and science and technology museum, as well as a host of other things.  Their impact on my experience here is not to be underestimated.

            At my core, I am a wanderer.  I want to go everywhere and see everything.  After this year, though, I think I may confine my wanderings to short-term outings instead of semester- or year-long programs.  I love to wander, but I’m not willing to spend a substantial amount of time doing it until I have a little piece of family that I can take with me.  In sum, then, I have answered many questions, formed new ones, and left numerous questions unanswered.  Is that what you wanted to hear?