Water Shock

I don't understand how people in Taiwan aren't constantly collapsing with dehydration. There isn't enough water anywhere we go, especially in consideration of how hot it is.

Back home we pay lip service to concern for the prominence of fast food and the staggering 30 hours of TV watched per week by the average American. But dehydration? That's the kiss of death. We don't sit for that. Not drinking water is bad. All other health considerations pale next to this American adage.

And I come from the zenith of water-swigging families. My dad drinks 8 bottles of water a day. Before the five of us go anywhere together, we puzzle over how many water bottles to pack in the car. If I pick my brothers up from town to take them home, a 20-minute drive, and I don't have any water - they cry child abuse.

Here no one drinks ice water. They think it's bad for you. A couple nights ago we sat down to dinner at home and I asked Tina if she wanted anything to drink. "No thanks, I have my soup," she said. I refrained from asking the relevance of her declaratory statement.

We got up late yesterday and didn't eat breakfast because we were going to James' grandparents for lunch. At lunch, no one was offered anything to drink, no one asked for anything to drink, not wanting to be the odd girl out - I ate my rice in silence.

Afterward I fell asleep on their couch. For an hour and a half. That's after a full night's sleep and only having been up about four hours.

I awoke around 2 p.m. My head hurt. My mouth was dry. My skin was sticky. I was a teeny bit dizzy, and feeling oddly removed from James' grandparents living room. I felt like I could sleep all afternoon.

Am I hungover? I thought. I'd had a beer the night before. One beer. Sixteen hours ago. The idiocy of this consideration made me realize how dehydrated I was. So although everyone was antsy to get going to the Chang Kai-shek Memorial, I insisted on popping across the street to a convenience where I bought a liter-sized bottle of water.

I cradled it in my arms all afternoon like a baby. James' mom made fun of me for carrying around such a big bottle. "When in Rome" be damned. I don't have whatever magical power for water retention everyone else here does.

That night we went to dinner with a bunch of Tina's friends. At the restaurant, Tina's friend asked for ice water for the table. The server came back with a bucket of ice. No, no, he said, ice water. Five minutes later she came back with one glass, that was about the size of a triple shot glass, with two measly ice cubes and not enough liquid to water a cactus.

I must be living in a country full of camels.

Five Things I Miss About America

I've been here a week and a half. The homesickness is mostly in check. I miss my family. I miss the O.G.s in Los Angeles (and by original gangsters I mean my wonderful 'SC friends), but I'm enjoying Taiwan too much to feel too left out of the stateside shenanigans. That aside, here's what I'm craving from the homeland:

1. Country music. Yeah, I know lots of you reading this back home wish they would send all the country music to Taiwan. I, however, laid in bed last night listening to this, this and this on my iPod. But I'm adapting and starting to take a secret liking to this.

2. Baby football. My brothers are dominating the 5th and 6th grade bracket for the Central Oregon Coast. I'm so proud of them.

3. Election season. I don't like waking up at 7 a.m. to stream the debates. And no one here wants to talk about it. James has an arsenal of preprogrammed answers for all my political waxings: His eyes glaze, his tongue lolls, "uh-huh," "yep," "I agree."

4. Sweatshirt weather. I'm told there is such a thing in Taiwan. I'll believe it when I see it.

5. The 7th season of The Shield. Okay it got way too soapy in the last two seasons, but I'm not a quitter. I need to know if Mackey gets thrown off the force, or killed, or what.

10 Day Count Down

I leave for Alaska in 10 days. Two days later, I leave the country. There’s an element of surrealism to it; I can’t believe just yet I’m going to be gone from the good ol’ U.S. of A. for so long. I feel like I should be preparing more for it, but how exactly? Eat enough cheeseburgers to last a year? Shoot some guns so I don’t forget how? I expressed my anxiety over departing America to Graham, a friend who lives in North Carolina. He said not to worry, he’ll send me baseball cards and a pair of Levis if I get too homesick.

Tomorrow Mom and I are driving to Portland so I can buy enough makeup to last. I also need some new pants, since - I’ve been told adamantly on several occasions - it will be near impossible to find pants that will fit my big white booty in Nationalist China.