This Is Halloween

Yeah, we know it's an American holiday, okay? 

But we're an American English school. And America has become such a world culture that even the Wal-Mart-like grocery stores here sell Halloween costumes at this time of year.

And, I mean the kids, love it. But who wouldn't, really? Dressing up and getting free candy? Shoot, I'm 23, and I'd still rather go trick-or-treating in a costume than just about anything else.

And that's pretty much what I did for the entire morning of our Halloween party.

Was I planning on it, though? Nope.

I don't teach in the mornings, so I assumed I would only be needed during the afternoon Halloween shenanniganery. But, an hour before everything started in the morning, I was told that all teachers were expected to be ready at 8:30, bright eyed and bushy tailed, in their costumes, for pictures. 

(I live in Taiwan. Pictures are like a big deal. You don't even know.) 

So. Yeah, okay. I was there at 8:30, in my costume, ready for pictures. 

Pose, pose, pose. Action shots. A couple with all the kids. More action shots. Jump up in the air. We did it all. Just to be safe.

Then, because I still had stuff to prepare for my afternoon Halloween activity, I was just about to sneak back up the stairs when Frances (my aunt and owner of the school) goes, "Rayne, you're staying to help rotate the kids, and take them trick-or-treating, right?" 

When Frances asks you a question, there are two possible answers you can give her: "yes," and "don't worry, I've already taken care of that; anything else you want me to do?"

Only one of those answers could be properly applied in my situation. 

"Yes," I said. "I am." Props to me for not even blinking an eyelid.

So. That's what I did. And, of course it was a total blast taking all the little young'uns around the school and "neighborhood" (one other building outside of the school), practicing "trick or treat, I like sweets, give me something good to eat!" with them, and holding their hands when they were scared of whoever was going to jump out at them from behind the door to give them candy. 

Plus, I got to hang out with this dinosaur. So, you know, that made my morning.

After the morning extravagances, I spent a frantic lunch break cutting out 63 (SIXTY-THREE) "make your own skeleton" pieces for my afternoon classes. (My roommates were lifesavers here: "Rayne, do you have any more we can cut? Here, lemme just cut these downstairs, I'll bring them into you when I'm done.")

And then I had to, you know, teach.

So, that was exhausting.

My favorite part of the afternoon, however, was getting to teach MY OWN class (we rotated classes, so all kids got to do the same activities). I never realize how much I miss my own classes until I'm not teaching them. They came in to make skeletons with me for twenty-five minutes, and it just made me happy. 

And, of course, because it was Halloween, I had to take pictures of them all. 

I said, "Smile! I wanna take your picture!" And these are the reactions I received:

Kid-gushing is embarrassing for me and annoying for you, so I'm not gonna do it. I'm just gonna say I love these kids. That's all. 

Morning, and afternoon? Check. But don't worry, I still had two more evening classes. That's right. A 9 and a half hour teaching day, looking like this:

Because, of course, costumes are mandatory. 

My first graders loved my costume. My fifth graders probably did, too, but of course they hide their overall love for me underneath a veil of annoying, can-I-please-just-slap-you, teasing and mockery. (That's okay, though. I still think they rock.)

So. You know. Happy Halloween.

In Which I Have a Birthday.

So I had a birthday.

(Well, technically it's still going on in America. I'm still receiving birthday wishes from all my fabulous family and friends in America, as we speak. I love this. One big birthday party for two days!)

My birthday landed on a Tuesday this year, which is the one day of the week that I don't meet with my first graders. But that didn't deter them from helping me celebrate anyway. 

I write everyone's birthdays on our calendar in the classroom (including my own), so on Monday--the day before my actual birthday--they were fully prepared for a day of celebrations. 

Look what they surprised me with.

 

(I guess 'surprise' is a relative term. I came in when they were still working on it, so there were squeals and screams of "Miss RAYNE! PLEASE DON'T SEE THE WHITEBOARD." But I was able to help a bit, too: "Miss Rayne. How do you spell 'Rayne?'" "Miss Rayne, how do you spell 'every?'" So I guess it was a good thing I was there during their prep time.)

The birthday wishing didn't stop just when I walked into class, either. On their spelling tests, they took advantage of the empty spaces to give me something to read whilst grading.

 

They provided me with snack, too, for break time. Those cuties.

(Please note that those good cracker things were taped onto the board.)

The birthday party my kids surprised me with on Monday was probably my favorite. Ever. But Tuesday--my actual birthday in Taiwan--was pretty good, too; full of little bodies hugging my legs, and birthday cards, and homemade peach pie, and special birthday presents, and being sung "Happy Birthday" in Chinese, and doing whatever I dang well pleased (which involved a lot of peach-pie-munching and Scooby-Doo-watching, may I say). 

 These kids just kind of wiggle themselves into your soul, and stay there. 

I'm going to hate leaving them.

Perspective.

The rainstorms here are to die for. 

Seriously, I'm such a sucker rainstorms.

(Right now, it's thundering outside, the clouds are rolling in, and it's visibly getting darker. I love it.)

The thing is, when it's really raining--like, when it's pouring so hard that you can hardly see your hand in front of your face, and you only have to go outside for two seconds to get good and drenched--that is probably my most absolute favorite time to go running. 

I know, okay? But it is. 

Rainstorms are cleansing, and actually going out in them, allowing the rain to soak me, to trickle down my face and arms and back, invigorates me. I feel refreshed and capable of anything when I'm soaking up the rain. Exercising in the rain heightens those feelings; makes them more concentrated. Running in the rain leaves me euphoric and peaceful. 

If only torrential downpours happened more often.

The last time I ran in the rain, I stopped when the rain did. But just because I stopped running and it stopped raining didn't mean the storm was over. Flashes of intricate lightning danced around the sky, totally distracting me from absolutely anything else going on around me. I ran up to the roof of my school, sat down, and just watched the skies. The lightning show was frequent and breathtaking for about an hour, and then slowly, slowly sputtered out into nothing. I was outside the whole time.

It was beautiful. 

Nature truly has the best fireworks.

Mediocrity with a Dash of Something Else.

Mostly, it's pretty typical for everyone, in any sort of situation they're constantly placed in, to have good days and bad days. There are awesome, energetic, I'm-totally-doing-this-for-the-rest-of-my life kinda days, and then there are those blecky, lethargic, can-I-please-just-curl-up-in-a-ball-and-sleep kinda days.

Today was totally that kind of day. It's probably the combination of it being the first day of Chinese school, and my inability to shake this headache, that made it that way.

Definitely, those kids drove me crazy today. 

But yesterday was totally not that way. Yesterday, they were adorable, eager to learn, affectionate little angels that I never wanted to leave. Let me show you. 

They drew that for me. Isn't that cute? Lately, they've really been into "surprising" me with pictures on the board. They'll kindly ask permission to use the markers on the whiteboard, and then freak out if I glance in their direction mid-creative genius. "Miss RAYNE! Don't SEE THE WHITEBOARD." 

Man, sorry. Sheesh. 

Sneaked up on them for this one, though.

After they were finished, and I gave them the appropriate appreciative response, one of the girls asked me to kneel down near her desk, close my eyes, and give her my hand. I obliged, and I felt her drawing something on the palm of my hand. There were seven little bodies crowded around me, pressing their cheeks against mine, and wrapping their arms around my waist, as my palm was being decorated. When the artistic piece was finished, I was allowed to open my eyes, and saw that "We love you so much!" was written on my palm in sparkly ink. 

Is this what being loved unconditionally feels like? Because I swear, all I do is make mistakes.

But it turns out that they're cool with those, too, actually; and do their best to help out where I fall short. One of my cute little students, knowing how prone to forgetfulness I am, thoughtfully provided me with a note, mentioning all the things I needed to do and bring for class the next day.

These kids, man. I just really like them.

Round Two.

6 months gone. 

A new semester has started. 

And shoot. I'm exhausted already.

Luckily, I don't think my kids have noticed.

Aren't my kids adorable?

It's a class of nine 8 year olds. 7 girls, and 2 boys. The girls are so affectionate.
So so affectionate.
Also, they're all super sensitive. I don't think there's been a day when someone hasn't cried.
But that's okay. After some tears and a few wails of "Everybody's mad at my!", I come over, explain that it's "Everybody's mad at me" (they correct themselves through their tears), I ask if they're bleeding, I ask if they got hurt, I ask if someone hit them.
They say no.
I tell them to move on.
And then it's cool. 
(Mostly.)

Completely unintentionally, my schedule turned out to be exactly the same as last semester: a second grade class, a fifth grade class, a junior high writing class, a high school writing class, and two tutoring sessions: one with a mother, and one with the daughter. It's a crazy schedule that's all over the place, but I love it.

But. I'm always tired.
Oh well.

Be as Simple and Well as Nature Ourselves

My Taiwan Besties were on their way out.

And so we went out with a bang. 

A big bang.

 

Toroko Gorge, Hualien, Taiwan

It's Niles Canyon, but with a bit of the Grand Canyon thrown into it here and there. Complete with rushing water, tree-covered cliffs, lakes, rivers, valleys, hikes, temples, waterfalls, and lots of buses full of tourists.

It's breathtaking.

It's the kind of 'breathtaking' where your mouth drops open and you hold your breath just to look. It's the kind of 'breathtaking' where gazing at it just isn't enough, you actually want to be a part of the beauty itself; you want to go in an explore what that beauty consists of. 

It's the kind of 'breathtaking' that just can't be captured on film, but you have to try, anyway.

We weren't your normal tourists in buses, either. Nope. We were legit. Traveling through those windy roads to the top of Toroko Gorge on scooters. 

Scoooooooooters!

That's right. 

And it was fantastic. 

Don't worry that I took pictures while straddling the backs of those whirring little things.

We spent two days there, exploring, riding, hiking, taking pictures, getting bitten by mosquitos, trying to find waterfalls, climbing lots of stairs, and not thinking of the separation that was inevitable. My four fabulous friends were leaving; their year in Taiwan was coming to a close. I was staying, they were leaving. 

We ignored that.

Toroko was really distracting.

We had some goals in mind, coming here: 

1) Climb a suspension bridge. 2) Hike to a waterfall and frolic.

The first goal we totally accomplished. With absolute flying colors, did we accomplish that first goal.

First rule of the suspension bridge: No wriggling. 

Second rule of the suspension bridge: Have a hiking permit. 

We followed the first rule. We tactfully overlooked the second.

The second goal we had, hiking to a waterfall and frolicking, started out pretty optimistically. We found the hike that promised a waterfall at the end. The sign at the entrance assured us that if we were in "moderately good shape," this shnazzy little nature walk would be a piece of cake. 

When we saw this, we questioned the use of the word 'moderately,' but pressed on, nonetheless.

That is, in fact, a 90 degree angled rock, in the middle of the hiking path. They were real thoughtful, and put some chains up there to help us, though.

It would have probably been useful to know Chinese, at this point.

But we did it, like champs.

Only to find, about ten minutes later, the rest of the hike--waterfall included--had been closed down, due to a rockfall. 

Well. Shucks. 

Down we went.

And found some other stuff to do. 

(It was probably a good thing the hike didn't work out, due to the fact that I was embarrassingly unprepared. I could just hear my father in my head: "Why are you wearing capris hiking? You shouldn't have done that. Why didn't you take bug spray? You always take bug spray. Never go hiking without a camel pack. I can't believe you went out there with no first aid kit. Don't wear those shoes. Wear hiking shoes." Man, I would have been in so much trouble.) 

Toroko was gorgeous. Beyond description. Incredible.

There was just so much water. It called to me. 

Next time, I'm wearing my swim suit.

It's Official. I Lived Here.

So guys. 

There's this bridge here. 

It's just for walking.

It goes over the train station, and you have to walk across it to get to the main entrance of the train station.

And the main bus station. 

So if you want to go anywhere besides Fengyuan, you cross this walking bridge. 

And on this walking bridge, there are locks. 

Like, padlocks.

Like, lots and lots of locks.

People just put them there. For lots of reasons, I suppose. (Most of them are in Chinese, you know. That hinders my understanding, a bit.) 

Some of them have been there for years and years, whereas others are totally, brand-spanking new. People have been locking a piece of themselves on this little walking bridge in Fengyuan, Taiwan, for who knows how long. 

So how could we pass it up? 

So, locks were found. And they were decorated.

And then, they were taken to the Walking Bridge. 

And there, I left a little piece of myself that will stay in Taiwan forever. 

So. I've made my mark. 

At least, I've made a mark that I can see, anyways. 

And I'm always a little excited to see my lock when I'm on my way out of Fengyuan. It just makes me happy.