August Cornucopia: Winter Gourds and Papaya

Having spent three weeks in Colorado, our garden was very much neglected. The jungle had taken over. After weeding, I was surprised to find massive melons in the undergrowth.

And the papaya tree we planted last year is so productive, the weight of the 2 dozen plus papayas are making it lean like the Pisa Tower. I had to whip out the dehydrator and dry some of them (135 degrees for 12-15 hours.)

Winter Melon

Honestly, when we bought the seedlings, we thought they were watermelon. Personally, I'm not that much of a fan of winter gourd (also called ash pumpkin). The tea is too sweet for me, and the way its served at my work, (braised and served daily in season) really it's nothing to call home about. When we picked our first melon, thirsty, anticipating sweet watermelon, boy were we surprised- and disappointed!

 Having said that, I suddenly found myself with 5 massive winter gourds the size of large watermelons. My neighbors who are are farmers with their own gardens certainly don't need my small donation and fortunately, they don't spoil quickly.

 It was time to learn some recipes.




In my research, I was pleasantly surprised at how nutritious this humble vegetable is. It is 98% water and is rich in vitamin C and B2, iron, and potassium. Being relatively low in calories and high in fiber, it's very useful for losing or maintaining weight. Also called ash gourd, it has been used for thousands of years in Asia and India and in both TCM and Ayurvedic medicine to cool the body in summer. This means its excellent for treating "heat" imbalances such as boils, constipation, and ulcers and should be avoided in large amounts by people who are asthmatic or prone to colds. Adding black pepper offsets the cooling effect. It is one of the most revered plants in Ayurvedic medicine as its so high in "prana" (chi) and extremely energizing. Drinking winter melon tea daily supposedly sharpens the mind, without agitating the body like caffeine. Since 1995, western science has found winter melon to help with balancing blood sugar to shrinking cancer tumors to treating opioid addiction (see Sadhguru).

The easiest way to serve winter melon is drinking it in tea. In Taiwan, the tea is sold at tea shops, street markets. If you want to "make it yourself", its sold in small cakes which have been dried and molded with brown sugar. I decided to make a syrup that I could add to water. This recipe used brown and rock sugar, but I decided to use date sugar. When we wanted a quick dessert, we made winter melon tea with some taro balls and whipped cream.

Just a warning, but cleaning out the flesh of an ash melon and boiling it for 90 minutes is much more labor intensive than I thought. The flesh is certainly firmer than a watermelon, but not as compact as an uncooked pumpkin. I recommend buying the small sugar brick and boil it in hot water into a syrup, much less time-consuming. Water it down according to your taste.

Traditionally, winter melon soup is cooked with pork ribs, ginger and rice wine or braised with carrots. We served our soup inside our empty gourd. It can also be cooked with chicken, or with dried shrimp, pork meatballs or in vegan soups.

Winter Melon Recipes:

Kerala Olan (Indian CurryVegan Soup with cowpeas, coconut milk and cubed wintermelon)
Wintermelon Jam
Wintermelon Candy: Right now I don't have semolina, rose essence and just threw out my cardamon so I will have to wait until a trip to Taipei to stock up and try this one.
Wintermelon and Barley Soup with Clams and Shitake
Wintermelon and Citrus Caprese Salad: This year our pomelos are sweet and ready to eat so we used this instead of grapefruit, and replaced champagne vinegar with pineapple vinegar (made by our neighbor). Mozzarella balls are unavailable in Yilan so we made our own vegan version with cashews. [Note: agar agar is called 訂購 in Chinese and can be replaced with gelatin if you can't find it].

Papaya

Who doesn't love papaya? (I'm sure there is someone). In Taiwan papaya is used as a shaved ice flavor or topping, ice cream and we add it to our shakes chia seed puddings or as a topping to our yogurt. It's great to eat it all on its own. My kid grew up drinking papaya milk at the night market or at home (raw milk).

Papaya can be savory. Recently, we made green papaya salad with Thai fish sauce, coconut sugar, bean sprouts and shredded carrots over mung bean noodles and garnished with crushed wasabi peanuts. Just be sure to mix well the coconut sugar because I didn't the first time and got some bites of sugar bits, which isn't cool. Normal granulated would be fine.

Likewise, the fruit can be grilled all on its own, or in kebabs with shrimp, boneless chicken, and any other vegetable. Papaya also can replace tomato for a chunky Mexican salsa. Perfect for a Moon Festival BBQ.

Every part of the papaya plant is useful and edible, if not medicinal. (Read, 9 Uses of Papaya Leaf)


Papaya Recipes

Salmon and Papaya Salsa

Papaya Habanero Salsa
Blackened Salmon with Papaya Mojo
Papaya Coconut Cupcakes
Papaya Dragon Fruit Coconut Pie: We replaced mango with red dragonfruit for the pudding.
Papaya Pecan Streusel Cake

Simply blended with milk is one of the most basic drinks in Taiwan, a night market favorite.

Combined Recipes
Soup
Jam: My next experiment. Why not combine them? I'll add pectin just in case, and will boil away the water of the winter melon before adding the papaya.

Familia Ante Omnia: Holiday in Colorado

While in Yilan I had made a plan of trails I wanted to hike, errands I needed to run,
places we could all take the kids, but I certainly didn't do everything I planned, let
alone see old friends I wanted to see. This trip was shorter than last summer's by
a week, and we spent more time in New Mexico visiting extended family. Nonetheless,
it was priceless to catch up with my family, to put up our feet and rest.

My kid contemplative, Georgetown, CO

Most people, my relatives, friends, neighbors would ask me the same two questions. The
first, was why I liked to live in Taiwan so much, I mean we have been living abroad on
this island for ten years. I told them, it was the high quality of life. I'm not making
enough money to save a nest egg, but the health care system, safety, kind people are
envy worthy (read about Taiwan's path to single payer health care system). In fact,
Taiwan scored #1 by expats for quality of life and #3 for personal happiness.

I was hoping I could get a SIM card, to make catching up with friends easier.
Traveling around Asia, its cheap and convenient to get a SIM card with a local
number and internet at the airport, but in the US this doesn't exist. I read that
Walmart sells T-Mobile's "Tourist Package" but they didn't and whatever I got
wasn't compatible with my unlocked phone. I wasn't able to get a proper refund,
but only its worth as a gift certificate. In hindsight, my Dad was right I didn't
need it, free wifi was everywhere.

So this was the first trip home, where Z was actually wanting to return to Taiwan.
Shocking, but I guess she is growing up and can see that Colorado (and extended
family), America isn't this enchanted Utopia she had thus far believed. The
rose-colored glasses are off, reality is complicated. Perhaps its the pain of grief too,
her cousin who passed, that still stains her perspective. This time around we visited
two cemeteries in two different states.

She missed her friend (who is in her junior high class), she missed her bedroom,
she missed the dogs she missed our cat. It's more simple here in Yilan, maybe
that's what I missed. What I realize, that she doesn't, is we are missing out on being
a part of my nieces and nephews growing up. They are so much younger than her, she
couldn't really appreciate her young cousins.  I, on the other hand, tried to soak up as
many hugs and stolen kisses I could. Of course, they were all about grandma and grandpa.

I also saw how dependent my brothers were on my parents, for childcare, for little
things. As a single mom in a foreign country, I can see from the outside how fortunate
my brothers and their kids are to be so close to each other, to my folks.

My sister-in-laws are fabulous, hardworking, ambitious full time working mothers.
They appreciate all the childcare my folks do. One pays my mom and the other just
took my mom to Mexico for a week (for a much-needed vacation no doubt!)

We arrived on a late Saturday afternoon and the next Sunday had a family BBQ
with all four of my brothers. Since everyone is working, it was only one of two days
we were all together. One brother left the next day for a scuba diving liveaboard off
of Panama for a week, doing reef rehabilitation, and when he returned, he was working
long hours.

Georgetown Train Loop

I was able to have a hike with my youngest brother but spent most of my time with my
two middle brothers.  Fortunately, everyone lives within a 5-mile radius of each other,
which makes dropping off their kids or my folks picking them up from school easy.
Most days the house was full of them laughing, crying and my mom running around at
their beck and call, getting two of them to nap. I am glad to be out of that phase, but
it's sure nice when they are well fed, content and wanting a cuddle.

My second weekend, we took the Bustang from Union Station to Frisco (2x daily $12) to
stay with my fabulous friend Caren. Her daughter is my daughter's age and they got
along like 2 peas in a pod. Tragically, there was a traffic accident on I-70, a young girl
died (her mom was drunk driving) and the highway was closed for hours, we arrived in
Summit County late, but made the best of it with beer and pizza.

The next day Caren took us for a hike at tree line above lake Dillon. It was more like a
graduated walk- which was perfect for our Taiwanese adapted, sea level lungs. I could
totally feel the altitude (in a good way), the thin air on my vocal chords felt noticeably
different, I was getting breathless. We have been gone too long. Before we returned to
Denver, we went for a swim in a freezing lake near their home. Thankfully the fierce sun
was blazing, burning. It was so cold I was afraid to swim to shore, unlike my friend who
did it three times.

Road Trip

Soon after coming down from the mountains, we were packing for a road trip with my Dad
to see his family in New Mexico. On our way to Albuquerque, we ate brunch at Cracker
Barrel (餅乾桶) in Pueblo, which is a kind of road trip tradition and treat for my family.
The food is all country style, Southern, heavy cooking and a chance for my Dad to eat
childhood favorites like his beloved grits. My kid was all over their meatloaf,  mashed
potatoes and gravy and I couldn't get enough of the turnip greens cooked in bacon
drippings. My kid and I love their gift store which has a large nostalgic candy section of
candy from my childhood you just can't find anywhere else. (Same goes for their
traditional handicraft sodas.) American food is so carb heavy and salty, but so good.

My kid shocked my Dad when she told him why they call themselves 'Cracker Barrel',
"Because everyone who eats there is white and fat!"

View from my grandmother's grave

We made a stopover in Santa Fe to see my grandmother's gravestone inside the

National Cemetery. She died last year and was buried there because my grandpa is a
veteran. (He will be buried beside her.) Unlike most of the cemetery, her spot didn't
have a cross because her place is so close to a residential neighborhood and the homeowners
complained. Nonetheless, it was very peaceful, and the pinon was fragrant as soon as we
got out of the car. My grandmother is remembered by her tirelessness, independence,
and straightforward talk. I admire her because she was basically a single mom for 12
years (like me now) while my grandpa was doing eight tours abroad or traveling to
different bases.

Brunch in Pueblo had filled us up until we met my aunt, cousin and uncle at a restaurant in
Albuquerque called, Casa de Benavidez. The food was filling, heavy, and delicious. My aunt
and I washed it down with a margarita. My daughter still wasn't impressed with Mexican
food and by the end of our NM road trip our guts were crying from too much of a good
thing.

My father's younger sister is bearing the brunt of taking care of my grandpa.
His retirement home is a minute away and she is there daily catering to his whims, while
also working. Before I left Colorado, my veteran brother made sure to have me ask my
grandpa three questions, which I did. He answered the two relating to his 21 years of
active service.

Unbeknownst to me, my grandpa was also called Eli and people also call him Ben.
According to my brother, when he was being trained as a Ranger, he was told his grandpa
Eli Benavides was a POW in Northern Africa. His plane went down in enemy territory.
He and his crew (he was a tail gunner) were captured and tortured. Somehow he escaped-
twice- only to be recaptured having failed to free his crewmates, which he refused to
abandon. During this time, the locals were like, "Who is this kid?" and he learned Arabic
and French and eventually with local help he and his friends escaped. Sounds pretty epic
and you can't find any info to back up the story anywhere, because my grandpa was
enlisted in the OSS at that time (which was a secret intelligence gathering department
that preceded the CIA). I've seen tried to find his story in the National Archives
but can't his name or aliases anywhere. His incredible story doesn't end there.

We took my grandpa for a walk around Old Town and then had a BBQ feast at my aunt's. My uncle grilled pineapple, salmon, beef, my aunt had handmade corn tortillas and queso fresco from the Mexican market. It was pretty perfect. We reminisced about recent memories of passed loved ones;  my niece Emma, of my grandma, and shared moments of quiet reflection and moments of laughter.

After a few days in Albuquerque, we were on our way to Roswell, to see my uncle, my dad's childhood home in the hood and of course the UFO Museum where my grandpa's photo is hanging. What we hadn't planned, but was on my bucket list for some time, was to have a swim in the Blue Hole two hours east of Albuquerque and on the historical route 66 in the small town of Santa Rosa.

The Blue Hole was public, so it was free and we changed clothes in the dingy bathroom nearest the pool. When we arrived, there were some girls a few years older than my kid coaxing her to jump. soon she got the nerve to jump from the highest rock. The water was absolutely freezing. This spot is a good place for local divers to take their tests and practice skills, while also having perfect visibility. Yes, I jumped in a couple of times, but its too cold for me and no fish. I was expecting it to be bigger, as wide as it is deep. Still it was worth the detour. Santa Rosa also has several lakes, a Route 66 car museum, and a Billy the Kid Museum. From there we headed south.

In Roswell we went took lunch at a trucker type buffet, serving more "white people food." It had a chocolate fountain and cotton candy machine, so my kid thought it was "fancy." We took a break from Mexican food and were right back to stuffing our faces with mashed potatoes, meatloaf and gravy. I had a slice of pumpkin pie. For my kid and it was perfect.

My grandpa's testimony hanging in the UFO Museum

After lunch, we went to the much anticipated UFO Museum. My kid is an X-Files fan, so she has been looking forward to this, to hearing her great-grandpa's close encounter and seeing his photo in the display. My grandparents used to live in Roswell, my Dad was born there, my grandpa was stationed there working at Walker Airforce Base. His job was to guard weapons and he was on site and involved with the "Roswell UFO Incident" (羅斯威爾飛碟墜毀事件). I first heard about this in my early 20's, my then living grandma told me his story in the car, while my grandpa nodded in agreement. He was still much too scared to talk about it himself. This time around, inside his retirement home, I got the story from the source.

There was an electrical storm, a young rancher, a University student home from Texas found the wreckage on his father's land. There were alien bodies, some were dead, two were still alive, my grandpa described them having this horrible stench. The living ones were murmuring and taken to the base hospital. My grandpa's men detained the young man for a few days, he wouldn't go into details about what they were holding him for.

The UFO museum was interesting. It had displays of different versions of the story as well as the official US government version (high altitude weather balloons). It had a display on the Nazi's flying saucers. Some of it was hokey too. There was a display on aliens in movies, crop circles that sort of thing. What I found interesting was evidence of god-like alien contact with early or primitive cultures; Australian aboriginal rock art, Hopi Kachinas, and a very convincing Mayan glyph.



After the museum, we headed to my Uncle Mike's to catch up. He's a funny guy and it's been a couple of years since I saw him. I wish we had more time to tag along on one of his famous fishing trips, my kid loves fishing. Grandpa was sure to take her trout fishing at least once this trip.


We returned to Albuquerque had coffee and donuts with my relatives, said my goodbyes to my Grandpa who said as I hugged him, " This will  probably be the last time we see each other." I told him he had 10 years left, as he always brags how his father lived to 102 or something. Still, I felt tears welling up and promised to write him more. Then we were back on the road to Santa Fe.

Smiling Sydney and my Dad shooting his camera

We were in Santa Fe specifically to see my good friend Sydney, a jewelry artist and teacher. I met Sydney years ago on the island of Banda Ache, Northern Sumatra (Indonesia) when my kid was 3 or 4. I knew she was one of these incredible people, the moment we met; her life is pretty full of supernatural ups and downs. Based in Kuala Lumpur at the time, we stayed at her upscale, modern condo several times during the many times we traveled to Malaysia (cheapest direct flights from Taipei). What a joy to see her in her beatific home/workshop utterly flourishing in the arty vibe of my ancestors.

My daughter tryon Sydney's handmade specs

It just so happened to be the annual "Indian Market", which is not a very PC name for North America's largest gathering of Native artisans. There were talented street performers galore on every corner, dancers, drummers and we happily gave each of them a couple of bucks. I have never seen, or held in my hand so many expensive, pieces of jewelry before (other than Sydney's). A single piece of jewelry was worth 15,000 USD or more. We had dinner at a food truck down the street from her home, drank beer brewed on site and listened to live jazz.

Sydney's home/art studio

The next morning we said our goodbyes to Sydney while she dug through hidden treasures to gift Z, and then we fed her prairie dog neighbors some leftovers before we hit the road. My daughter didn't know what prairie dogs were, which blows my mind. "Like meercats, just watch out for rattlesnakes."

On the road again

Final Daze
Our last Tuesday, my folks, one sister-in-law, one brother, and all of the little ones went to Georgetown to ride the historical steam train between the former gold mines mines. There was a small train museum, gift shop, we panned for gold and took a mine tour. It was an amsuing half day, all the kiddies passed out in the mini shuttle bus my Dad rented.

Our last night, there was a free concert in the park. The Tom Petty/Stevie Nicks tribute band rocked. I was impressed! I was not expecting the muscicans and singer to be so professional. The park was packed. My brother wanted to go right down in the front of the so speakers so my hearing impaired nephew could feel the vibrations. My nephew was mesmerized.

Next Time

Surviving Elementary School in Taiwan: Was It Worth It?

5th grade at her mountain school

Yesterday was my daughter Z's first (full day) of junior high. I can't believe it. She had quite a bit of anxiety building up about how she would be accepted by her classmates, if she would be bullied as in elementary school. 

The truth is that the majority of her classmates and teachers from preschool to present are kind, friendly, generous people. Of course, there is always one or two rotten guavas in the bunch and its turned my hair gray to help her realize that those kids' opinions don't really matter, despite how much it hurts. In this point, there is no difference between school in Taiwan or the States, except perhaps she would have more family loving on her when she needed it, verses from just me. The weight of that injustice at my choice of remaining here isn't lost on me.

Her last elementary school year and a half were no picnic. Mid 5th grade, her friend flipped into her "frenemy" and became the gang leader. Z was singled out, targeted, the girls were cruel, they ganged up on her. All of them screaming in her face at the drop of a hat was too much. Nights were full of tears. I waited for her teacher to do something, anything- she didn't. I encouraged her to hang with the boys, like El from "Stranger Things" but she is much too influenced by local culture which is voluntarily segregated in comparison to my own elementary school experience.

Finally when this girl hit Z, well that was the final straw for me. I felt like I was patient enough, the kids didn't work it out, Z wasn't handling it, the teacher even with some kind of counseling training, wasn't using her training. I saw the dark hopelessness in her soul one night and quickly found a wonderful counselor who probably saved her life. My daughter was diagnosed with PTSD and it was through this perspective she navigated through 6th grade and now starting junior high. That last 6th grade year, I was a regular visitor to the principal's for tea with him, her teacher and a translator. We were on the same page, which is to all of our credit.

Interestedly, in the beginning of 6th grade, my daughter introduced to her classmates the Tree of Knowledge,  which is rock music.  They had never heard of Guns and Roses, Nirvana, Talking Heads. Z expressed her disdain for K-pop, any pop, showed them the video for "Welcome to the Jungle" and like the forbidden fruit, their eyes were opened. (They thought Axl and Slash were women!) The class quickly became divided into Nirvana vs G+R (but in a friendly way). Even the K-pop mean girls preferred Bon Jovi. They joined Spotify, now watch Netflix, Comedy Central in their homes. My kid expanded their world and helped them unlock their individuality,  so some of them matured enough not to be a part of the mean girl herd.

Graduating Kindergarten with her BF

 The universe is I believe benevolent. Throughout her life in Taiwan, there were always that special friend in class, or the neighborhood who she could pair up with outside the classroom. Z became close friends with the kids on the periphery, one girl who is borderline autistic and a boy who is openly bisexual (and in love with Dave Grohl). Having those friendships that last year was a godsend. They continue to be her peer support hanging out in the summer, even into the first days of junior high. This girlfriend is in her 7th-grade class, the other boy in a class nearby. And those mean girls? They go to a "better school" in Yilan City. Good riddance.

Not Standing For Ceremony

I never understood why Taiwan's final exams are weeks before the end of school, they don't do any academic learning, its like graduated babysitting. That last week of elementary school, Z was so over it. My kid announced to her classmates and teachers she wouldn't be going to their graduation ceremony, she was an outsider, they made that clear enough. This was a shockingly HUGE controversy. We always seem to rock the boat by just being ourselves. Yet to anyone who was close to her, teachers, those few friends didn't mind, weren't offended, they understood. She went to her two favorite teachers and told them personally, please don't take her not coming as disrespect.

Their S. African English teacher (who translated for my teacher conferences) was surprisingly strongly opinionated on the subject, trying to convince me that we would regret it someday, but we didn't, and we won't. It was my kid's decision, I pick my battles. Still, I asked my American and European coworkers (also parents) their feedback, because being a single mom can make me question my own mind, especially when being pressured and it was nice to be validated. In Taiwan, graduation ceremonies are a big deal. In kindergarten, my kid was in a cap and gown! It was over the top for sure, but for how much I paid (14,000 NT a month with my teacher's discount), what the hell!?

Grade 2 Anping, Tainan

My only argument for her going to her elementary graduation was that sometimes we humans need ceremony, a public ritual to psychically close a chapter, process an end, at least as a way to have a clean slate for a fresh start. I didn't push it though. So instead, we went to Kenting and she got her PADI Open Water scuba diving certification. We stayed at the new, laid-back Blue Hole and she got certified by legend expat Andy Gray, while I snorkeled and did some SUP. We did a fun dive with the guys at Blue Hole and returned to Yilan too mellow to care for what acquaintances think.

I was proud my kid dug in her heels, I admired her. Her class, those means girls begged her to come to their graduation ceremony. We had to go to Taipei for some AIT business (the ad hoc US embassy) and her class made this big beautiful card while she was absent. Each child and her teacher wrote her a letter, apologizing, all asking her to come to their graduation. If it were me, I would have buckled, caved under social pressure to be polite. Not my kid, she is true grunge. The day of their graduation was a half day and while I was at work, those girls came over bearing gifts (pencils, a bowl, stuff in their backpack) begging her one last time to please come. And it wasn't even out of spite so much, that she didn't want to go but that she would rather listen to music in her room on a Wednesday night. She reminded me of when actor George C. Scott stayed home to watch hockey instead of accepting his Oscar for "Patton", so rock-n-roll! If she was vengeful, she had already got the ultimate revenge, which is getting better grades than all of them.

Z's 6th grade classmates' beautiful card.

The hardest part of navigating parenting a student in Taiwan, as a foreigner is that the problem is always us. It's never the mean girls, or the teacher, or their parents, but it must be Z. Because Z has switched schools several times (new jobs and moving house 4x), this was used via gossip, used as an excuse that the problem was my kid. For example, I have no idea how mean girl #1's mom found out how many times we switched schools, other than someone from school faculty blabbed and they assumed the worst.

On some level, part of the problem of course, is us. At least for me, I am coming from a completely different culture, so that presents its own challenges. For my daughter, I would never tell her the problem is her, she needs to know I am always on her side. However, I am aware that she has a"cup is half empty" personality, and her greatest fear is rejection. Since kindergarten, her focus has been on the mean girl and not that the majority of genuinely nice, sweet kids. This is the gift her biological father gave her when he stopped seeing her at 5 weeks old. She on some level never got over that rejection-yet. Nonetheless, I draw the line at victim blaming.

For The Record

The majority of Z's elementary school life in Taiwan,  like life in general, has been quite the roller coaster. Her first 2 years in Tainan were lovely. Her school in Anping (Yizai) for grades 1-2 has an excellent reputation for parents who care about test grades, and it happened to be just down the street. Her homeroom teacher was proficient, artistic, kind but fierce when she needed to be. My only complaint was when I thought my nightmare came true; one of the scariest moments of my life, my kid was missing.  Her anchingban called me wondering where she was, not with me. Panic. Unbeknownst to me, or her homeroom teacher, or her anchingban, her Taiwanese language teacher was using my kid in a film to promote the Taiwanese language. I was livid. I even ended a friendship over this (another opinionated S. African). The school principal apologized, gave us a T-shirt, we left for Yilan for my new job.

Tai Chi  Class

My new job in Yilan lasted a semester, that was about all I could handle. I quit and naturally took my kid out, as without my teacher's discount I couldn't afford the private school's tuition. Was I happy with Z's experience there? Not even close. Their class was wild. Their homeroom teacher couldn't handle them, the stress made him lose weight he got sick and took leave so they got a retired teacher who also couldn't handle them (same semester). My kid was bullied by a mean girl. It was just one or two girls, but it was enough to affect her quality of life, despite having some sweet girls in there too. My manager to her credit, tried to help with the bullying. But when the semester was over, I happily quit and naturally took her with me.

Her new public school (Kai Shuan) was very close to our then apartment complex outside Yilan City center. Her best friend from our complex was in her class, she got along great with her classmates- probably because all of them were united in their sheer terror of their teacher "Evil Lynn." The homework amount was insane and a point of contention with the teacher.  The best thing about that school was their Taiwanese English teacher Ellen who is an angel and has helped me out more than once.

About the same time I lost my apartment (2-week notice from my landlady), I got my current job in the mountains. We found an apartment near Yilan University and it made sense to have Z go to school near my work because there's no one else going to take her to school or pick her up. So that little mountain school is where she stayed and graduated from. We gladly left Kai Shuan for a more rustic, "alternative" school in the mountains where the homework is reasonable, the principal takes the kids hiking and PE Class is a run around the lake. That's exactly how it was too. Her teacher Jack was an inspiration and her classmates were wonderful. Besides their rancorous music teacher, it was provincial bliss. I don't know why exactly the harmony turned flat. Maybe hormones, or jealousy, or mental illness and with a new homeroom teacher who wasn't pro-active, that her friend became her "frenemy" and the bullying escalated.

We recently saw this girl and her notorious mother in our neighborhood Simple Mart. Her mom was paying in front of me, so I made sure to put my grocery basket on the counter beside her purposely stirring the pot. She couldn't even look me in the eyes.   I don't know what I was expecting, an apology maybe like the one her daughter eventually wrote my kid.

So yes, with expensive therapy, with true friends, understanding teachers, translators, with switching schools and jobs and moving house several times, we survived the elementary school system in Taiwan. Was it all worth my kid being fluent in Mandarin? Being second in her class, writing better Mandarin than her classmates? Time will tell, but I'd like to think she got it right when she wrote on her yearbook page, that's printed for all to read, "Thanks guys! What doesn't kill me makes me stronger."