Snow Day in Texas

I always wondered what would happen if it snowed in South Texas. Despite having already lived through quite a few winters here, I thought the universe would never deign to answer this question for me....until today.
I woke up early in the morning and was groggily wandering about when I happened to look out my window. My jaw dropped. Everything was covered in a layer of white and although I had heard that it was going to snow I didn't know it would be so much! So I decided that I would brave the cold and go down to the university to see what people were out doing on a snow day.I slogged out to my car to try and brush the snow off of the windows. Apparently that takes a lot more skill than I possess, because the snow was sticking obstinately. So I slogged back to my apartment, filled a bucket with hot water, slogged back to the car, and half-heartedly poured it over the front windshield. Voila! It did manage to melt the snow despite leaving a crust of ice on the lower half. Good enough for me, I thought. Until I climbed in my car and realized that what I was left with was literally two holes to look through in the front, not to mention the back window and side windows were still crusted in stubborn snow - making visibility impossible. Northerners will mock me but I am a tropical girl at heart and really thought of this as a true dilemma.
OK, no driving then. I could walk. It was cold but not windy so I assumed I would survive just fine (and I figured that classes and work were cancelled for a reason - South Texans have no clue how to drive in the snow). I bundled up as if the Arctic north were awaiting me outside and set off. Then I noticed South Texans do not know how to walk in the snow - and also do not have shoes with proper traction for walking in the snow. People were slipping and sliding across the street, inching little by little in order not to fall. Of course, students were out early gathering the snow for snow fights, building tiny snowmen (not enough snow for normal sized snowmen), and generally in awe at the sight of Austin covered in snow. Having already gotten my fill of snow angels in Utah and Minnesota - as well as having been shoved into a 3 foot snow drift by my impish brother (where I proceeded to sink like a stone and flounder about until a friend kindly fished me out)- I wasn't up for playing in the snow.
I have thoroughly enjoyed seeing Austin in a different light. Being as this is possibly my last year here, I feel so fortunate to be able to have a winter that differs from previous ones. I finally got to see it snow in Texas :)!

The Wild South

In my travels this Christmas season, I have to admit I was more worried about the TSA than about the drug cartel problems in Mexico. Would I get searched? Be forced to choose between the backscatter or being patted down? Apparently neither. I flew on eight different flights during the busiest time of the year and not a single time did I even so much as witness anyone being subjected to the backscatter or a search....and I'm not even sure if I should be relieved or worried about this (given that last year the 'underwear bomber' tried to blow up a plane during the Christmas season). What was the most extensive search I had to go through? It was actually in Mazatlan!
I flew in on a tiny 60 person jet to the place that I consider my hometown. As my dad tore through crazy traffic - refusing to yield or even stop at the stop signs (ahhhh I miss that Mexican way of driving :) )- he casually mentioned that 11 people had been shot in the outskirts of Mazatlan just the week before. This is nothing new, especially to a girl like myself who grew up hearing about shootouts at restaurants, watched the feds clean up after gun fights from the night before, and was told to never even look at the expensive cars we sometimes encountered as they were driving around downtown with windows so tinted it was impossible to see in anyways. But it was a bit different this time. That first day I walked to the beach and saw military helicopters flying overhead (this actually happened more than once during that week), on one walk later that week I came upon the feds standing on the beach holding their automatic weapons and instinct caused me to head in the other direction as fast as possible (no one wants to be in the wrong place at the wrong time), I even saw them downtown staking out a small taco stand IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY, and a friend of mine mentioned that she had heard gunshots in her neighborhood at 3 in the afternoon. I'm accustomed to witnessing the aftermath of these things the next morning but although I have seen the feds hanging around most of the time, I can't really remember a time when gun fights would happen in the daytime.This is a new Mazatlan to me but I understand why people stay and why my dad goes back again and again; Mexico is special, despite all her problems.
When I flew out all of my bags were opened and extensively searched....twice- I even saw one guy taking off his shoes so that the police could check inside. The only other place I have witnessed such extensive searches was in Manila when they searched me before I could get into the stores (and the searches to get on the plane were even worse!). And in both cases I felt safer flying out of a third world country than I did out of the USA where people complain about random and sporadic searches that are meant to keep us safe. And so this brings me in a full circle....I would rather be in wild Mexico where people understand that inadequate searches put us in danger as opposed to the USA where the seeds of discontent sprout up at the slightest inconvenience. And I really am a Mexican at heart.....give me Mazatlan any day,with or without the drug wars.

UT Lockdown

Today the University of Texas was on lockdown for almost 4 hours. Although this was not such a serioius situation given the fact that there were no third person casualties, it was a surreal shock into the realization that "This could happen to us!". The shooter was a child - only 19 years old. I was in class when he ran down the street adjacent to our building firing shots into the air. He was carrying an AK-47 and wearing a ski mask which possibly marks his intention to do harm, however, he ended up on the 6th floor of the library and committed suicide. A man shot himself not a block away from where I was.
We first recieved alerts a little before 9am. Unsure of what to do, I foolishly walked to the stairwell and looked out the window. The campus was dead quiet except for the shouts of the police officers running back and forth signalling students back into buildings. By the time I went back to the classroom there were already alerts of a second suspect. "We should probably turn out the lights and lock the doors." was the general suggestion. There were two problems: we couldn't figure out how to get the doors locked, and although we shoved desks and chairs up against them, they opened outwards meaning anyone who came in would only be momentarily deterred by this. We sat against the wall in the dark classroom, knees pulled up to our chests waiting. At this point more alerts were coming in and we recieved messages saying that the second suspect was in the building next to ours - this building has a hallway that connects it to our building. I started shaking like a leaf, and texted my parents and brother repeatedly. We could hear the swat team taking over the building next door because we could hear the sound of dogs. Eric called me just a second later to ask how I was doing but the conversation was cut short as we heard noise out in the hall. Being cautious, I hung up the phone and we sat in dead silence with dread permeating the room. Suddenly we heard a man screaming: "Get on your knees! Get on your knees!" and realized that whoever it was, be it shooter or SWAT team, they were right outside our door. At that point I figured the best way of defending myself was to hold my backpack in front of my head so that if there was any shooting it might somewhat sheild me. When the door of our classroom flew open the first thing I saw out of the corner of my eye was the nozzle of a huge automatic rifle. I think in that moment everyone's heart dropped to their feet. For me my first thought was "It's the second shooter. I'm going to die.". The only reason why the majority of us (I later found out) made the same assumption that this was the shooter was b/c we assumed he would be carrying a similar weapon to that of the first suspect so we were on the look out for an AK-47. In this case it was two SWAT team members and they came in screaming "Put your hands on your face! Hands on your face! NOW!". I shoved my bag away and my hands went to my face. They closed themselves in with us and were checking through the windows to see if anyone was comeing. They were on high alert prepared for anything and they were shouting at us "Did you see anything? Did you see anyone?". I was frightened b/c I felt that maybe it was a sure thing that there was a second shooter. "No, no!" we told them. And then we begged them to lock us in b/c we couldn't get the doors locked. They left and made sure we were locked in the classroom. During this whole time we were listening to alarms and sirens going off, we had messages saying there were armored trucks on campus and helicopters were flying constantly overhead.
We sat on the floor for two and a half hours waiting. We had frequent reports about the second suspect but it was generally believed that they were being cautious and there was really only a single shooter. Finally, we were free to leave and the campus was evacuated. What a heartbreaking story for the young shooter. He was someone's son and he tragically took his own life. I think that given how the situation could have turned out, we were extremely lucky. I admit to being shaken up by this, even though I didn't witness any act of brutality. It was the sitting there, not knowing and not sure of what could really be going on that triggered this fear, in those moments you can't help but have thoughts about "What would happen if today is my last day?". My mom sent me text message after text message saying she loved me. I made sure I told my brother and parents that I loved them. I was probably never in any real danger, but I wanted to make sure I wouldn't leave any regrets at not having said it when it mattered.
So now tomorrow it's back to school for me. I may avoid the library for a while, and probably start sitting away from the doors of the classrooms, because if there is ever a next time I'm sure we won't be so lucky.

An Afternoon in the Temple

I recently spent an afternoon wandering through the largest temple here in Taipei. I was with a Taiwanese friend who attempted as best he could to answer my many questions. This temple was vastly different from the large one I visited in the Jiji area of central Taiwan. While that temple was a Buddhist one, this one was a Taoist temple. The differences were enormous. The Taoist temple is much more colorful, it has the traditional sloped Chinese roofs with colorfully painted dragons and other mythical creatures. On the walls outside were brightly painted pictures of stories and legends. The color alone was overwhelming, however, when I entered the temple I found a whole different world.
This temple had three levels to go to; I first went to the central level. What was happening seemed pretty typical of Asian culture: people were holding incense and bowing to different idols. There was fruit lying before the idols on tables. Apparently people bring the fruit so the gods can feast. It's okay to take the fruit home and eat it after the deities have had their full; however, some people claim that the fruit does not taste the same once it has been offered. The reason why there are so many different idols is because each one is for a specific need. I you wish to do well on exams - you pray to a certain one, if you wish to have children - another, and so on......This was only the front part of the temple.
Entering into a long tunnel, we were able to make our way towards the back of the temple. The tunnel had intricate stone carvings with some sort of story written in Chinese. There were little enclosures all along the way and in each one were sometimes fierce, sometimes kind, looking statues of different height and type. Some were men, some were women. My friend explained that these serve as bodyguards to the bigger god. They protect him from wayward ghosts. When we reached the end of the tunnel, we were greeted by a Yin and Yang symbol and on the other side, looking out to the river was a huge idol. Apparently he is the more important god that the bodyguards protect.
Next, we went to the upper level. The stairway was flanked on each side by two huge elephants - supposedly for good luck. There were also little dragon/lion guardians everywhere. These little guys supposedly eat evil spirits. the upper level led to and intricate and beautiful garden. With winding pathways and beautiful trees and flowers it seeded pretty peaceful, until I spotted a statue of a woman overlooking a waterfall. According to my friend, she watches over Taipei from her high perch. The gardens offered us a beautiful view to the river and was the best part of the visit (for me).
Lastly, we went to the lower level. At this point, I was starting to feel a bit stressed out. Being raised a Christian, many of these concepts are difficult, if not impossible to grasp. The downstairs took us down yet another long hall, this time the statues behind the glass were gods. If you needed money, these were the ones you prayed to. At the end was another huge statue. This time, he had a friendly face and was flanked on each side by fat Buddhas smiling widely. People came down the hall with incense in their hands bowing to each god along the way. When they finally reached the large one, they would stay a bit longer praying and then deposit their incense in this huge cauldron for the god to smell it and grant their wishes.
The temple was huge and definitely very impressive, however, the feeling I took away was how exhausting it all seemed. Like mentioned before, because I was not raised in this religious culture some of it is hard to understand. However, the impression I got was how complicated it would be to have to go to all these different gods for all the different things you need. I guess I'm spoiled in my belief of one God. It just seems so much simpler to be able to pray to one, instead of so many.

Lantern Festival

The weather was miserable all Chinese New Year - a disappointment that kept me inside without much to do for a week. However, barely a week after Chinese New Year ends, the big Lantern Festival begins. I took a train out to Ping Hsi to see it at its best and experienced Taiwanese trains at their worst. The train platforms were crowded with masses of people trying to get on already jam packed trains. We stood the whole way and what should have been an hour trip became almost a three hour experience. The train stopped continually at 'strategic' locations to wait for who knows what and those of us who were standing became a bit uncomfortable. We were all afraid to get off the train because it might leave at any minute when (oh the irony) we actually a long wait ahead anyways. It was well worth it though, because the following experience turned out to be the most impacting I have experienced since I've been in Taiwan.
Imagine descending into the humid dusk in little town. The streets are old and made of stone and the first thing that you see just at the bridge is three people getting ready to send their lantern into the sky. On it, they have written their wishes for the coming year. (On this particular one, one guy was wishing for a BMW ;)). As they send it off into the night sky, you follow it with your eye and find yourself standing mouth agape staring up. Hundreds and hundreds of lanterns are floating into the distance. Some of them are close by, others are merely red specks in the sky. It was so mind blowing and beautiful that I actually teared up.
The town is brightly lit for the occasion with lanterns hanging everywhere. You can purchase your own lantern and write your own wishes on it for 100NT (around 3 dollars). People are also setting off fireworks like crazy, some right next to each other. Others are frantically putting out the flames of lanterns that caught on fire and came crashing down. Car alarms start going off and it is a general joyful hubbub.
Zac and I purchased some fireworks of our own and set out to have our own fun. We came upon the railroad tracks that run right through the middle of town. People were sitting, lying, setting of fireworks, eating, lounging, etc. right on the tracks. When trains came along they would scatter briefly and then just move back on. We started setting off our own fireworks when we were be-friended (in the typical friendly Taiwanese way) by a group of young Taiwanese. The made friends with us immediately and set off our fireworks with us. Then, they brought out a giant lantern and handed me a black marker. "Write your wish! Write your wish!" I wanted to write something in Chinese and I couldn't think of anything except 我要钱 which translated is "I want money". Not the best wish, but hey I was under pressure.:) Everyone wrote on the lantern some wishing for promotions, to get married, or to have a nice house and car. Then, they sent into the night sky and........it promptly crashed ten seconds later. I guess my wish won't come true - that's ok though, I didn't need it that badly anyways. :)

Unlucky No. 25

My shoes were literally falling off of my feet before I finally agreed to buy a new pair. I don't like to spend the money unless I have to, but it was high time - especially when the soles of my old pair had already started to crack. On rainy days I would end up with more water inside my shoes than in the puddles I stepped in unawares. So shoe shopping it was....how hard could it be? I'm not hard to satisfy, but I will not buy something unless I really, really, really like it. But I figured out of all of Taipei's night markets there had to be something I would like. The quest began. When I started looking on Sunday night, I wasn't aware that the following three days would be the hell of shoe shopping - and not just for me but for various store clerks who would end up giving me the evil eye.
It started with a pair of blue Converse. I fell in love with them. Easy! I asked for size 25. They didn't have 25, the largest they had was 24.5. Ok. I tried them anyways. I was tempted to be them despite them being a little tight, but I knew I would regret it. I politely deferred. This was the first nightmarket: Raohe. I proceeded to walk to all the stores in search of the shoes I wanted. No luck, and even when they did carry a pair I liked, the largest they could get was 24.5. I began to feel rather large as far as feet go. The first day ended dissapointingly mostly because I had set my mind on getting a new pair and I was going home empty handed.
Second day. I headed to Gongguan on a hell bent mission. I walked into the first store I came to. Nothing. My feet were just too big. The clerk apologetically told me that I could try other stores but that store did not carry such a ginormous size that is 25. The second store I went to seemed to be my lucky charm. Not only did they have several of the ones I liked in my size, but the one pair that I absolutely wanted was too small and they promised to order in a 25 and have it for me the next day. I left smiling and satisfied. Life was good.
Third day. Jumping up and down in excitement, I headed to the shoe store to pick up my new pair of size 25 shoes. I put on the right foot and it felt oddly tight. I looked at the size: 24.5. Really? Someone had made a mistake. I communicated to the clerk that I wore 25. She went searching for a larger pair. She came back apologizing profusely. That one shoe did not come in a larger size. I would have to try elsewhere. Grrrrrrr........ I started popping into every store I came to after that. I was desperate to find something that I liked in my size. Finally, one store clerk explained that 25 is the largest size for women and the smallest size for men so most stores don't carry it. It was an unlucky number indeed.
I gave up on Gongguan and headed to Shilin. I proceeded to put four different store clerks through shoe hell at four different stores. The scenerio repeated itself over and over: I would ask for 25 and would be brought a 24.5. The clerks would come lugging armfuls of shoes as they tried to find one that would fit me. They would finish looking at me disgruntled and cranky as I politely explained that a 24.5 was just too small. Some even managed to bring me a 25.5 or a 26, but wearing those I bore some resemblance to Donald Duck or a clown on lunch break from the circus. I know I have big feet (and at this point I felt like it was deformity) but a 26 just made them look ENORMOUSE. One store clerk looked alarmed and immediately got on the phone to (I'm assuming) a neighboring store. I must have looked really upset at that point, because he was trying so hard to find a number 25 for me somewhere. He looked especially apologetic when he came back to tell me the same bad news.
Close to tears (over shoes, for heveans sake!) I stormed off to the subway and sat outside glaring at the unaware Taiwanese girls that walked by. They had normal sized feet, they could fit into any shoe they wanted, their foot wasn't bigger than 24.5. I now realize that I hate the number 25 with a passion. I tremble at the thought of going shoe shopping again any time soon. Now that I think about it, I dread going shopping for jeans too. After all, I am taller than the average woman ; I may have to settle for capris instead of actual pants. But that is another bridge that I will cross when I come to it. As for the shoes; I settled on the one pair that they had in my size and walked out that same night with a new pair of shoes. I can't complain, I like them and they are comfortable. Mostly it's just a relief to get it over with....hopefully I won't need to buy shoes again until I go back to the USA - where women's sizes go much larger than a silly little number like 25cm.

Death and Other Morbid Thoughts

Someone asked me the other day if I ever had recurring nightmares. Although I have had my share of nightmares (like everyone else) and woken up shaking and scared many times, very rarely has the same one happened more than once. I remembered though that several years ago, I started having a recurring dream that has always stayed with me. The dreams started right after a friend of mine was brutally murdered. When I found out about her death, I felt a huge sense of guilt. She had been 21, young, beautiful, an entire life ahead of her and it was snuffed out in one moment. The last conversation we had was terribly trivial but she had been right there in front of me within my grasp. I couldn't help but wonder if by saying something, or not saying something, I could have changed the ultimate outcome of her fate; but then I feel terribly hopeless, because somehow it seems that her destiny was irrevocably sealed and decided.

So after she died, the dreams started. They were always the same; I would be dead, riding on my way somewhere with countless other people. We would arrive to the destination that allowed us passage to Paradise, and right at the thresh hold I was turned back. Always turned back. I would wake up with this feeling of disappointment. Why did I have the right to live while other's lives are cut short? Every day is a blessing, but who decides how many days we are blessed with or why we are blessed with so many or so few? I can't help but think that perhaps life is a series of near hits and misses with death. We may not know it, but this whole series of alternate events could exist. What if you hadn't stopped to tie your shoe before crossing the street? Perhaps that car running the red light would have it you. Or you decided at the last minute to take a different route home one night? Perhaps you avoided that mugger waiting in that same dark alley you usually walk down.

So what to do with the time that is given us? Perhaps the most difficult thing (at least for me) is to come to terms with the fact that we are all rushing towards the same end. Rich or poor, man or woman, we all die. So the issue at hand is how to grasp at this brief and transient life. How to accept the mystery of what really happens when we die. To determine if your faith will give you the strength to believe fully that there is a good place for your soul on the other side of that dark abyss.

Steinbeck wrote that the older we get the less obsessed with death we are. I suppose he meant that we come to terms with the concept when we are closer to it. As for me, I feel the older I get the harder it is for me to grasp and the concept gets more and more frightening. As for my dreams, they stopped when I realized that there is a great being looking out for me. I don't believe that I have any more of a right to live than anyone else, but all I can do is be thankful that I have been given the privilege to be alive on this day, in this hour, right at this very minute. I am scared of death, and although I wish I could change and control this fate, there is nothing to do but resign to the ultimate destiny that makes us all equals.