Observations from a half-fried, half-Chinese, half-Australian American.

I joined a company-sponsored outing to Fulong yesterday for some surfing. I’d been really looking forward to it because I’ve been talking about going surfing in Taiwan for more than two years and because, being raised in Miami, I love the beach.

I’ve been to Fulong before, but both times it’s been rainy or overcast. Fortunately, the weather was pleasant yesterday. We met at Taipei Main Station and jumped on the 10:35 train to Fulong. Since we grabbed the “stops at all stations” train (ticket at 85 NT was marginally cheaper than the express train), it took about an hour and a half to get there. The express train will get you there in about an hour.
The Fulong train station is a five-minute walk from the beach (nice!) and a 30-second hop into a line of lunch-box shops. Fulong is famous for its “Railroad lunch-box” (鐵路便當) and that’s normally the first item on the agenda for visitors. We dug into our 50 NT lunch-boxes and then met with the surfshop to organize our surfboards (500 NT for a day’s rental including a free rinse-off).

Finally, we set off towards the beach. I’ve only been surfing twice (this time was the second time) but even I was shocked at the number of people trying to catch a wave. There must have been about 80-odd people in the same 100-200 meter stretch. I hit one of my workmates TWICE and another workmate was skewered by me and another guy once. It was CROWDED. Good news is I finally stood up and actually surfed. The feeling was nice and I can see how it can get better as your skill increases (and if there aren’t too many people around).

After about an hour, I decided to go out a bit deeper to watch the experienced guys surf. They could grab the wave MUCH earlier and ride it much longer, unless they had to jump off to avoid hitting us newbies in the front blocking their way. They were unbelievably patient, I never saw any of them mouth off to any of us guys floating right into their paths.

I gave the board a rest and decided to try to swim over to the “paid area.” As I was approaching, I saw a lifeguard jump down to meet me as I crossed the line. I decided not to cross the line and he had nothing to say. I think I saved him from having to deliver the “pay to play” spiel and just walked back to base camp in the “no-swim zone” where all the surfers were.

As the shadows grew long, I got the craving for a beer, but the workmates were rushing to get back to their lives in Taipei so we hopped back into the train. All in all, it was a nice day, I got a nice sunburn, but I don’t think Fulong is a premiere surf spot by any standards.

Just returned from a work junket in Japan and have observed some behavior on my part which exposes how culturally “flexible” I have become. Maybe “quick to assimilate” is a better way to describe it. I don’t necessarily think that’s a good thing. Perhaps there’s a point when one becomes so open-minded and flexible that one loses something of their own identity or personality.

I’ve become so used to capitulating to others that it’s like I don’t have any taste. When I say “taste”, I mean, my own likings, my favorites, my dislikes, etc. Instead, I just go along with what others like to do, or what they offer. I believe this is a habit that has developed during my time in Asia. My experience is that it helps to accept what others offer in order to warm a relationship up. Also, locals can offer a new experience and more insight into their culture. So what I like takes a backseat. The by-product of this continual acquiescence is a gradual, but noticeable fading of my own personality.

In the end, any healthy relationship must be based on a truth and honesty. Acquiescing to others, while helpful at the beginning of a relationship, may actually create distance later on between two parties.

Assimilating to a culture I guess is the next extension of acquiescence, though I guess it’s more subtle and much less conscious. In a way, after an extended period of time in a foreign culture, I believe assimilation is inevitable. To remain unchanged requires intense self-awareness and active resistance – an unnatural act which only makes one’s continuing presence in that culture less and less sustainable. Most people I’ve met in Korea and Taiwan have assimilated in certain ways and have resisted in others. They’ve found some sort of equilibrium between reaching out and guarding their identity. Others I’ve met (though few), actively defend against assimilation on all fronts and in turn make life miserable for themselves and others around them. Those are definitely not the travelling types.

I used to think that if one opened themselves up completely, then they could find their true “self.” But now, I’m not so sure. Maybe you just end up getting lost.

I was at a pub (The Brass Monkey, for those in the know) last night and stumbled upon two tall, beautiful women – one who looked full Chinese, the other who I couldn’t see because she had her back to me. Once I got to see her, I guessed that she was half (and she confirmed by using her hand as a knife and cutting down the center of her face) and proceeded to ask her some personal questions that only mixed people allow each other to ask after just meeting. Here’s her story:

She’s half-Austrian (mother), half-Taiwanese and grew up in Taiwan. When she was 12, she moved to Austria. She speaks German, English and Chinese, all fluently. She told me that whenever the family is in Taiwan, they speak German at home. When in Austria, Chinese. Her Taiwanese father put a lot of effort into keeping her aware of her background, so she told me that she feels more Taiwanese / Chinese. She also experiences the phenomenon that when she’s in Asia, people think she’s white, when she’s in Europe, they think she’s Asian (Japanese, apparently).
I used to think I was really “half” … by blood and by culture, but this girl takes the cake.

As the first post, I should first explain who I am, where I’m coming from, where I am now and what I’m trying to do here.

1. My name is Mike Palmer, and I’m a half-Chinese, half-Australian web designer / developer.

2. I grew up in Miami, Florida, then spent a few years in Melbourne, Australia before completing a year-long English-teaching stint in Incheon, South Korea.

3. I’m now in Taipei, Taiwan (and have been for over two years). I came here to learn Mandarin Chinese.

4. Years ago I had a page on Geocities about life and identity from an Asian-Caucasian’s point of view which got quite a few responses from couples, mothers, fathers, girlfriends, sons, etc. I’ve laid low for the past five years, but now I think it’s time (maybe moreso for myself than others) to continue.
So, for those who are interested, here are the feelings and identity-crises of a mixed Asian-Caucasian male laid out bare.