I have a small problem.  It really is small, so small that I probably shouldn’t air it here.  Yet, here I am.  

I recently bought a new phone.  Actually, three phones with one base.  I bought the three phones with one base at Costco.  The box showed a beautiful set of phones in a glamorous house.  But it wasn’t the glamorous house picture that sold me on the phones.  What sold me was that the box listed the phones’ features in both English and Chinese.  This caused me to assume that inside the box I would find instructions in both English and Chinese.  So I bought the three phones and one base, brought them home and set them up.  I then went to look at the instructions so that I could set up all of the cool features that were listed on the box in English and Chinese, only to find that the instructions were only in Chinese.  

Now, if the instuctions only included the words on, off (as in “pay when you get on the bus” or “pay when you get off the bus”), mountain, entrance or exit, then I would have been fine and I could have read all of the characters.  But, that wasn’t the case.  The instructions unfortunately included a few words that were not on my five word vocabulary/character list, so I was not able to read anything.

Of course, this would not be a problem if this were 1975 and phones’ only functions were answer, dial and hang up.  But these phones can do a few more things than that, and I have no idea how to set them up because everything on the screen is IN CHINESE!  I’m willing to bet that there is a way to switch the screen to English, but I would only be able to figure that out IF I READ CHINESE.

It would also be nice if I could check the messages on the answering machine.  Or even nicer if I could change the outgoing message to something other than a lady telling my callers to please leave a message IN CHINESE.

But, it is what it is.  If any of you Chinese speakers wants to come over and program my phones for me, that would be much appreciated.  But if not, that’s ok too.  I’ll just pretend like this is 1975 and my phone has only 1975 functions.  And, in the meantime, I’ll just put this on the long list of things about our expat lives that I find amusing.

Oh, now here is the garbage part of this post.  There is a cat that has been hanging around our house that I named Garbage, because he likes to eat garbage.

We’re back in Taiwan after eight weeks in the U.S.  (Can you sense the smile on my face as I type?)  Actually, we’ve been back for about two weeks now and I’ve been smiling pretty much the whole time.  Have I ever mentioned how much I love living abroad and the interesting cultural experience that go along with expat life?  Well, this blog post is going to be about one of those cultural experiences, and it’s a doozy, so hold on to your hat.

Tonight Jason and I went out with our friends Brandie and Jeremiah.  We went to dinner and then Brandie and Jeremiah took us to one of their favorite massage places for a couple’s massage–something Jason and I have never done.

Taiwan is famous for massages.  However, most of the massages done here are brutal.  I’ve seen pictures of people who come out of massages with their backs covered in bruises–from top to bottom.  I prefer not to pay to be bruised, so I hadn’t had a back massage here yet.  However, I have had a few foot massages–and they’re brutal enough. Every time I’ve had one I have writhed in my seat from the pain.  I’m convinced that the little Chinese women who perform the massages get a huge kick out of watching westerners in agony.  After Jason’s first foot massage, he vowed he would never have another.  I’ve had four now and I thought they would be less painful after the first couple.  Not so.

The spa we went to tonight specialized in Thai massages, which means that the therapist manipulates the client’s body in interesting ways.  In general, the experience wasn’t as brutal as I had expected; it was actually quite relaxing.  Except for the part when my therapist manipulated my right shoulder into a position where I was pretty sure she was going to break my arm.  I kept listening for the snap of breaking bone.  No snap, but my eyes did roll back into my head far enough to see brain matter.

But that’s not the part of the massage that will go down into infamy.  Here goes:  So about half way into the massage, the therapist had me turn over onto my back.  She then worked on the front of my feet, legs, arms, shoulders, etc.  This therapist was very thorough.  She massaged nooks and crannies that I didn’t realize I even had.  At one point she started massaging my stomach, which I didn’t particularly like.  I prefer to keep my belly fat to myself.  But then, after massaging my belly, she removed the towel off the northern portion of my torso and started massaging my modular chestal region.  Yep, yep, yep.  It was exactly what you are right now imagining.

Now, I have to stop right here and say that it is incredibly painful to have one’s modular chestal region massaged–but not in ways that one might expect.  In my case, it was the inside of my mouth that was experiencing incredible pain–from my teeth biting down on the inside of my cheeks to stop me from bursting out laughing (yes, I am that immature)!  My eyes were watering and my teeth were drawing blood in my attempt to contain myself.

A minute or so later I heard Jason snoring next to me, completely oblivious to what had just gone on in the room.  Later, when we were finished and I asked the other three if they had the same experiences, they all said no.  I was the only one who got the “special” treatment. I’m just really, really, really, really glad that Jeremiah said no when the lady first asked if we wanted to do all four of our massages in the same room.

So I guess that from now on, if I’m ever asked, I will have to admit that yes, I have indeed had a boob job.

 

I was saddened and disappointed that the Olympic athletes from Taiwan were not allowed to carry their nation’s flag into the Olympic Stadium in the London Opening Ceremonies this evening.  After decades of this kind of treatment, I’m sure that the lovely people of Taiwan are used to this, but I’m not.

The Olympic athletes from Taiwan deserve better than this.

Our family of SixAbroad will be heading to Amman, Jordan next summer.  I’m sure this next post will provide plenty of fodder for this family of world observers and bloggers.  So stay tuned!

Bad news:  I won’t have to wear an abaya in Jordan so I will unfortunately have to continue shaving my legs.

Good news:  The arid climate of the Middle East should fix the frizzy hair problem I experience on a daily basis in Asia.

1.  Fourteen year-old boys are an interesting breed.  They are on the brink of manhood, but are still very much little boys.  They like to think that they are very mature, but they continue to whack each other with whatever they can get their hands on–in much the same way they have been doing since they emerged from the womb.  My question:  Will this ever change?

2.  Utah summers aren’t as hot as people keep saying they are.  It’s all about perspective and this isn’t hot. Now Taipei in the summer–that’s hot!

3.  Life isn’t as fun when my husband is on the other side of the planet.

4.  A 16 year-old girl who thinks that her mother is going to let her drive 45 miles alone on the busy freeway 5 days after she gets her driver’s license is delusional.

5.  After a month away, I’m really missing Taipei.  I miss the smells, the colors, the lushness of the landscape and even the rain.  But mostly, I miss the people.  Jason called today to tell me that he had arrived safely and I found myself jealous of him.  I really love Taipei.

6.  I have some really great friends; both in Utah and in Taipei.

7. I have two really strong women in my life; my mom and my mother-in-law.  They are amazing women who inspire me and I’m so grateful the they are part of my life.

8.  I have really funny siblings–a quality I love in people.

9.  I need to work on patience.  Waiting to hear what our next post will be is driving me crazy.  Two days ago, I convinced myself we are going to Amman, Jordan;  yesterday it was Addis Ababa, Ethiopia; and today I’m sure we’ll end up in Caracas, Venezuela.  I’m thinking that tomorrow may be a Moscow, Russia kind of day.

10.  I really love my life and wouldn’t trade places with anyone.

What is right with America can be summed up in two words: Garbage Disposal.  The garbage disposal is the second greatest invention since the wheel. (The first, of course, is the iPad.  Thank you Steve Jobs!) And in my humble opinion, the garbage disposal has to be the most underrated invention of all time.

I cannot begin to fathom why other countries have not jumped onto the garbage disposal bandwagon.  I must admit that I don’t know for sure that other countries haven’t adopted its usage.  Outside of the U.S., I’ve only ever lived in Taiwan and Italy–and neither of those countries have incorporated the garbage disposal.  I have a sneaking suspicion that Canada uses the garbage disposal because my Canadian friend Carrie is the only person in Taiwan that I know that has one.  But honestly, in my home in Taipei, I would be willing to give up my microwave oven and my oven’s broiler function for a simple American garbage disposal.

The whole concept of the garbage disposal is so brilliant and also so true to the American spirit.  One simply throws all of one’s food refuse into the sink, grinds it up and washes it away into the sewer system.  I believe that the American Colonists did the same thing to the British Red Coats in 1776.

Since returning to the U.S. for the summer, every time I turn on my garbage disposal, I smile and resist the temptation to place my hand over my heart and sing “God Bless America.”