Home Again

Well hello there! I've acutally been home for a month now, just incapacitated with all sorts of rubbish.

But I'm not dead yet, and neither is this blog.

The month in Taiwan was perhaps one of the most well-spent summers I've had yet. There is much to tell, but not enough time in which to tell it. I'd like very much to chronicle everything, but it'll all come little by little.

The first photo comes from Penghu, a little archipelago off the western coast of Taiwan. (faintly circled on the map.) It's where I and five others spent two weeks teaching elementary students English.

It was a trying experience. But more on that later.

This is one of the shots that I have come to love dearly:

I do not remember the name of this island, save that it was perhaps one of the most beautiful places I have ever chanced to lay eyes upon. Sky, meadow, and sea, with beach or rocky coast in between.

Anyhow, I've been starting to filter through my memory cards. They're making their way to one of my Flickr albums. Go visit. I'll be uploading.

Skywatch No. 21 and Other News

Because my lens is shiny and it reflects the trees and the sunlight and the sky which is somewhere beyond those trees:

This could be my last Skywatch for a bit... this time next week, I'll be in the sky and with a camera, but little chance of internet. I'll be in Taiwan for the next month (tropical location? check. height of summer? check. air conditioning? dubious.) on a sort of volunteer/camp program. We teach schoolchildren English, they pay for everything but your plane ticket. It's a pretty good deal.

Their website is here. I personally find it rather poorly organized, but it's decent and serviceable.

Vaccines 1, Andunie 0.

Today, I went out to get immunized for a couple of things I'd like not to kill me. So I drop by the local health department. What transpires is as follows:

NURSE: Have you ever passed out while getting your shots?

ME: Nope!

NURSE: Do you feel dizzy?

ME: ...no.

NURSE: Because this frequently happens to adolecents.

ME: I feel fine.

NURSE: They say they feel fine and then they pass out.

ME: (apprehensively) Really, I feel fine.

NURSE: Well, all right. (jabs a couple of needles in Andunie's arm)

ME: (winces)

NURSE: How do you feel?

ME: (okay) I'm okay.

NURSE: Either way, you should stay in the waiting room fifteen minutes afterwards...

ME: (beginning to feel increasingly lightheaded) Um...

NURSE: ...in case you start feeling a little faint.

ME: (vision starts disappearing; concedes defeat) Actually, I think I'm going to pass out now. (loses conciousness)

And so I spend the next ten minutes lying on the floor of the clinic, and end up stumbling out with a pounding headache. I mean, wtf. It's okay though, because the health dept. girl was really very nice about the whole thing. Not even a single "I told you so" look, to boot.

Skywatch No. 20

A dramatic sweep of sky is like a verbal flourish sometimes. Like the well-executed snatch of prose, the grandeur of a beautiful sky can make a bold statement. The vertebrae of clouds snakes errantly overhead, dispersing little twists and knots here and there, the way we might scatter words like "extravagant," "decadent," or "verdant," amongst the others.

Yet the others are by no means bland- they're all unfurled against a jewel-toned backdrop, deep and vivid. It's shot through with such treasures as "electric," "silky," and "brilliant." Everything blends and weaves together such a grand way that sometimes, you just need to sit back and enjoy the show.

Why Wallpapers Are Not "In"

After walking through my place of residence and counting a grand total of 11 different wallpapers, I have concluded that this house is Special.

After walking through said house photographing wallpaper, I have concluded that I must also be Special.

Either way, have a gander at this eye-offending array.

Thankfully, Numbers 1, 2, 5, 9, and 11 are located in the basement where they belong. Number 12, the Standard White Wall, exists, but would perhaps be put to better use if it multiplied and usurped the more ostentatious ones. Just saying.

Summer Sun

The careless summer of our childhoods. Warm sunlight filtered through the trees. Long shadows across the grass. Laughter drifting on the breeze. Tendrils of smoke from the barbecue, spiraling upwards. The distinctive scent of cut grass, which is also the scent of summer. For a moment, life is good.

Look, I Iz All Gradumicated.

I'll try not to make this too long. I promise.

Here's the deal. A couple days ago, I was suffering from the so-called seasonal allergy like none other. (They're year-round though, so I guess there's one for every season. Liars.) I mean, they were so bad I don't know if I went one continuous minute without my nose in a tissue. All day. It was not pretty. Especially irritating, because we'd a commencement ceremony to sit through the next day.

The problem with doing well in school is that when you graduate, they make you talk, and sit on the stage when you're not talking. Which would be perfectly fine, if I wanted to show off my snivelling and snot-dripping skills and keep my composure at the same time. After some negotiation I was told I could leave my bag under my chair, so I'd have tissues up there.

It ended up being that the chairs were all squashed together, so when I tried to reach under my chair, it probably looked like I was groping my neighbour or vomiting or a combination of both. Sometimes life is special like that.

Making my valedictory speech. I suppose there's a reason I write instead of talk:

Skywatch No. 18

Birds are impossibly difficult to approach around here. We've had a robin nest right outside a window last year and some sort of thrush over our front door the year before that. The area is wooded, which helps, but other than that, there's not much to be done. 

Well. As of today I have only one day of classes left. It feels rather surreal. Still ridiculously busy however. As soon as I've gotten enough sleep, I'll start making sense again. Until then, I'm off. Sorry.

Memorial Day and the End of the World

Not really.

(Not the end of the world, I mean.)

For the marching band, Memorial Day means a parade. It's one of those days when everything feels like the essence of a small town- people lining the streets, a slow, amiable feel to the atmosphere. We headed out this morning, slightly disorganized but in good spirits. It's only been a year for me, but it's the last time I'll march with everyone. Sad, but true. You people are awesome.

The (academic) year is winding down. Actually, it's probably already ended for most people, but we're still plugging along. We're down to four more days of classes. I'm graduating with honors. There's a good school waiting in the fall. Things are looking pretty decent. I'm still swamped with work and deadlines and obligations and other stressful things like that, but all in all, not bad. 

It is also, by the way, Towel Day. (For those who have no idea what that means, kindly read Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.) 

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

And remember. When in doubt, don't panic. 

Skywatch No. 17

Tulips in the sky.

It's been a very overly warm two days here (which does not make me feel better about being in Taiwan this June), but everything's looking nice now. I have a week left of classes, then I'm out. It's good.

Anyhow, I went out earlier this week and noticed that these bright fuschia tulips had bloomed out front. I'd always wanted to take pictures of flowers from beneath, and I finally found some whose stems were long enough for it to be easily done. The number of good/passable photos from this shoot was surprisingly high. If I upload them somewhere else, I'll post the link.