tumble-wet

Yesterday, Ba and I returned from Taichung to Taipei and we checked into a hotel near his old university. I'll admit the hotel is a nice change from staying in my relatives' homes. Even though it's clear that they don't mind, I don't like feeling like we're imposing or making extra work for them. Ba and I each have our own room which comes with Internet access, free breakfast, a large tv with cable (english stations), and comfortable beds. There's also a laundry room with a box of laundry soap, two washing machines, and a dryer which unfortunately doesn't really work. After tumbling for almost an hour, our clothes were still as wet as when they came out of the washing machine. We hung up the clothes in our room, and this morning, they were still wet. My dad said that in the summer here, on a sunny day, he'll hang his laundry up, and at the end of the day, they would still be damp. It is that himid here.

After a plate of beef fried rice at one of the many campus eateries, we got into a taxi to head to the hospital to visit my grandfather. Actually, it took my dad a couple of tries before we found a cabdriver who grasped where we wanted to go. Although my dad left mainland China when he was about 12, he still has a strong Shandong (northern)accent, and it takes Taiwanese people a few seconds before they understand what he's saying. He also isn't familiar with the local names of things, so for example, he called the subway system here "the underground train" when it's actually called the "fast train". It's funny to watch the locals help my dad: first there's a look of bafflement on their face, and then after my dad repeats himself a couple more times, their faces light up with understanding and they are eager to help. On a corner, with all the motor scooter noise around, my dad had to write down Taiwan General Hospital for the cab driver. In the end we got there.

Writing Chinese was never my dad's strong suit. With his lack of elementary schooling and move to Canada where he started to learn English, he now has trouble remembering how to write words in Chinese. Last night, in the hospital, while "conversing" with my grandfather, my dad struggled to write the Chinese, and I could see my grandfather trying to decipher my dad's words: In Taichung, we went to the Siens Mooseum.

At 100, my grandfather still has all his mental faculties. He remembered I had a son and asked who was looking after him while I was here. We showed him a photo of Luca in his chef's costume, and my grandfather chuckled and said he was very cute. We also showed him the picture frame, but he was perhaps too tired to watch it all or, my dad also thought that perhaps my grandfather didn't really enjoy looking at the old photos of his past. Hopefully, when he is feeling stronger, he will be able to look at the frame and see and enjoy the later photos of his chldren, grandchildren and great grandchildren.