First of all, it’s raining. It’s been hot all week, and even hotter in my room which is on the seventh floor and a guaranteed five degrees hotter there on any given day. Today my thermometer reads a welcoming Fahrenheit of 78—a refreshing reversal ushered in by the winds that carried the wet. Yesterday at the same time (after work) it was sitting patiently at 96, and remained that way until 11:30 when I got up and turned the air conditioner on. I’ve sort of been putting off that eventuality (in case you think me mad for waiting that long), but then it finally very simply just happened. I don’t even remember deciding to get out of bed. I do remember before that though, the fan on my legs full blast and changing sides several times only to feel the coolness on my newly exposed side of sweat evaporating. I also remember considering the irony to myself that the longer I lay in bed the more awake, and less tired, I became. I guess this reasoning that presented itself was so evident to me that it bypassed some more formal ring of consciousness and my body simply got up and admitted what a small part of my mind resisted: summer.
That night’s experience (on Thursday, for the record) got me into thinking about firsts. On the Sunday before (when it wasn’t quite so damned hot, but comfortable enough to sit outside a Starbucks in the evening), I had my first bona fide Chinese lesson from a student who currently studies at Chiayi University. The experience was quite encouraging, despite the feelings that other people have intimated to me: “What? You’re paying money just so you have someone to speak Chinese to?” This is another irony to consider, but it’s also the awful truth. My oral Chinese landscape is actually pretty bleak. Spending so much time with Fiona is the only reason I have made any progress at all in the area.
I forget when it started to get really hot this week, but, as it happens when heat comes, I get sores in my mouth (isn’t that lovely news!). I’m told that “hot” bodies (referring now to the perspective of Chinese medicine, and the physical temperaments of various bodies), which are mostly young people, have this same tendency. Luckily watermelon is a great “cool” food* that will soothe excessive heat, which explains, despite it being in season, why I tend to devour as much of it as I can at this time of the year. So on Wednesday, Fiona sent me willingly out onto the streets to buy some watermelon. “Don’t get a whole one,” she said. “Don’t get a half of one. Get a half, and a half again! What is that called? Tell him our fridge is too small.” Six and some blocks later, with a quarter watermelon in my arms, grotesquely too large to be a baby but nevertheless resembling one in the way I held it, I was back, knocking on the door. And by the way, Taiwanese watermelon is delicious. I wish I could eat some with Mark Twain just to get his opinion.**
There were some more firsts and ironies—but will anybody read them? That is a serious question that I have to ask myself now on a blog that is essentially idling, with no real purpose or direction. Not like Nathan Ballentine’s blog (see to the right) that is also his business. Or those blogs over there of professors who, with their interesting projects, seem to have a right in their blog. Soon I know this place will be like Chio’s or Ryan’s blog, in italics noting something like, "last undated 6 months ago."
*“The nature of watermelons is generally rather chilling and contains a great deal of moisture, yet they possess a certain purgative quality, which means that they are also diuretic and pass down through the bowels more easily than large gourds and melons. Their cleansing action you can discover for yourself; just rub them on dirty skin. Watermelons will remove the following: freckles, facial moles, or epidemic leprosy, if anyone should have these conditions.”
Galen (129-216 A.D.), Marcus Aurelius's personal physician
**"The true Southern watermelon is a boon apart, and not to be mentioned with commoner things. It is chief of this world's luxuries, king by the grace of God over all the fruits of the earth. When one has tasted it, he knows what the angels eat. It was not a Southern watermelon that Eve took; we know it because she repented."
Mark Twain (1835-1910)
That night’s experience (on Thursday, for the record) got me into thinking about firsts. On the Sunday before (when it wasn’t quite so damned hot, but comfortable enough to sit outside a Starbucks in the evening), I had my first bona fide Chinese lesson from a student who currently studies at Chiayi University. The experience was quite encouraging, despite the feelings that other people have intimated to me: “What? You’re paying money just so you have someone to speak Chinese to?” This is another irony to consider, but it’s also the awful truth. My oral Chinese landscape is actually pretty bleak. Spending so much time with Fiona is the only reason I have made any progress at all in the area.
I forget when it started to get really hot this week, but, as it happens when heat comes, I get sores in my mouth (isn’t that lovely news!). I’m told that “hot” bodies (referring now to the perspective of Chinese medicine, and the physical temperaments of various bodies), which are mostly young people, have this same tendency. Luckily watermelon is a great “cool” food* that will soothe excessive heat, which explains, despite it being in season, why I tend to devour as much of it as I can at this time of the year. So on Wednesday, Fiona sent me willingly out onto the streets to buy some watermelon. “Don’t get a whole one,” she said. “Don’t get a half of one. Get a half, and a half again! What is that called? Tell him our fridge is too small.” Six and some blocks later, with a quarter watermelon in my arms, grotesquely too large to be a baby but nevertheless resembling one in the way I held it, I was back, knocking on the door. And by the way, Taiwanese watermelon is delicious. I wish I could eat some with Mark Twain just to get his opinion.**
There were some more firsts and ironies—but will anybody read them? That is a serious question that I have to ask myself now on a blog that is essentially idling, with no real purpose or direction. Not like Nathan Ballentine’s blog (see to the right) that is also his business. Or those blogs over there of professors who, with their interesting projects, seem to have a right in their blog. Soon I know this place will be like Chio’s or Ryan’s blog, in italics noting something like, "last undated 6 months ago."
*“The nature of watermelons is generally rather chilling and contains a great deal of moisture, yet they possess a certain purgative quality, which means that they are also diuretic and pass down through the bowels more easily than large gourds and melons. Their cleansing action you can discover for yourself; just rub them on dirty skin. Watermelons will remove the following: freckles, facial moles, or epidemic leprosy, if anyone should have these conditions.”
Galen (129-216 A.D.), Marcus Aurelius's personal physician
**"The true Southern watermelon is a boon apart, and not to be mentioned with commoner things. It is chief of this world's luxuries, king by the grace of God over all the fruits of the earth. When one has tasted it, he knows what the angels eat. It was not a Southern watermelon that Eve took; we know it because she repented."
Mark Twain (1835-1910)
