To enjoy a state-of-the-art library and a huge tranquil park seemed satisfactory enough for a newcomer to this city, but I soon discovered another one-of-a kind facility — the indoor Olympic Swimming Pool and Fitness center. When I was informed that in 1984, the Olympic Game swimmers practiced here, I felt the pride of being a part of a world class phenomenon. At the edge of the pool, there was a high diving board. It almost reached the high ceiling and looked intimidating. The fancy pool brought my memory back to the days when I watched the games on TV at a flat in Taipei, and how I marveled at the athletes’ amazing speed and power. Excitedly, I enrolled Anelise into the beginner class.
I had a phobia of deep water myself, so I could imagine how water could be as scary as a monster to a child. Anelise had never swum before; in fact, she couldn’t take a overhead shower in fear of water hurting her eyes. To accommodate her, I had always skillfully shampooed her hair, making sure her face was dry throughout. Now, I was determined to get her ready for the lesson. It was time to quit baby baths! I started to train her: I would spray water on her face and dip her face into water in a basin. I tried to get her to take overhead showers in a baby shower cap. Nothing worked. She screamed, fought, and cried. Taking a shower became our nightmares. Our prelude lessons failed, but the real lesson couldn’t wait.
The first class went like this: the coach ordered ten little kids to put on lifejackets and walked them toward the diving board. All the moms sat on the bleachers, watching and smiling. On my face there was a smile, but in my mind I worried about why they needed lifejackets. “It’s for safety, because they are all first time swimmers,” I explained to myself. These little puff-chested, frog-like kids quickly tip-toed to the other end of the pool, their bodies shaking from the cold. They passed the low diving board and kept going. When they reached the high diving board, the coach yelled, “Stop!” He pointed to the sky-high board and yelled again, with a wide smile, “Let’s go up there!” The kids erupted in fearful high pitched screaming. My head froze for some seconds in horror. “No! You can’t make her do this!” I screamed in my mind.
I ran to the coach. “Hey, coach, excuse me! I…, I am…. I…,” I almost choked while stuttering through my poor spoken English. “My daughter, she can’t swim! She can’t go up there!” Finally I managed to complete my words. “Oh, don’t worry! She will be fine with the jacket.” The young man smiled at me indifferently. “No, no, no! She can’t go! It is terrible!” I felt tears fill my eyes, although I was still smiling. “It will be okay! No worries!” He ignored me and turned around, yelling, “Let’s go up there! One after another!” The kids stepped up to the stairs in file. Some of them couldn’t wait and rushed up, dropping and making big splashes with excited screams. Another coach scooped them up out of the pool with a long pole. They were shaking heavily but laughing hard. It seemed fun and fine, I told myself. Anelise was the last one in the row. She was shaking and her face was stern. I knew she was terrified, but she was always obedient to the rules. I knew she was restraining her fear, telling herself not to cry or run away in protest. I had an urge to pull her out and walk away, but with a few seconds of internal struggling, I stepped back, with tears in my eyes.
Now it was her turn to go up. She went up slowly, trembling. Finally, she reached the edge of the diving board. She couldn’t jump. The coach came up behind her and bent down to encourage her. There was no response from Anelise. They were up there for a long time. It was a stand off. Tears kept coming out of my eyes. I wanted to yell to the coach, “Let her come down here! Ler her go!” but my throat was tight. Suddenly, the coach gave her a push. Like a stone, she dropped into the water with a big splash. I was shocked. I ran to the side of the pool, Anelise shot up on the surface of the water, floating. She touched the pole extended to her and grabbed it. Up on the ground, smiling despite shaking, she was safe!
The swimming lessons kept going for some weeks and Anelise gradually got used to water. Amazingly, she started enjoying jumping off the diving board. Anelise eventually swam for her school team from fifth grade until high school and competed in high school water polo. From this experience, I realized: all difficulties can be overcome.
Chen Family Story #12
The City of Cerritos was a town full of new immigrants. Store signs in Spanish, Korean, Chinese, and Hindi were side by side with the ones in English. Our relatives and friends informed us that choosing a good school district for children was the biggest concern when deciding on where to live. To our surprise, we had moved into a city with the highest ranked high school in California, Whitney High. The school admits students based on highly selective academic standards. Students have to be at the top of their class and pass a rigorous entrance examination. Many families move here in hopes that their children will get in. I was surprised that the phenomenon of chasing a “celebrity school” didn’t only exist in Taiwan. “The school is more than 70% Asian students,” my landlord Mr. Chang explained to us. He and his wife both earned master’s degrees in computer science and worked for a computer company as programmers. He gave us property investment advice: “The golden rule of buying a house is location, location, location, and the value of a house in a good school district can only keep rising.”
Henry and I were not thrilled with having the best school in town. First of all, we had never believed that kids had to go to a celebrity school to succeed. Secondly, we didn’t have the money to buy a house yet, let alone a house in a good school district. What excited Henry the most was a supermarket called Ding Hao where he could find Chinese food; for me, it was the library. We started buying tofu, Chinese vegetables, Taiwanese snacks, and fresh meat that we felt was too expensive in American markets. The library was a great resource that made me so happy. It was huge in size compared to the one in Rancho Palos Verdes. I got lost in its maze-like shelves all the time. I was moved by the significant collection of foreign language books. Standing in front of the bookshelves full of unknown languages, I felt very lucky to be in a melting pot where different ethnicities and cultures were welcomed. However, I skipped checking out the abundance of Chinese books because I had an urge to learn English.
Cerritos City Library in 1990
Beyond the wall of our backyard was the field of Anelise’s school (Carver Elementary School). From upstairs, we had a view of the openness of the school. I paid attention to the school bells. After the long buzz of the bell, the cheerful shouts of children would follow; after another buzz, dead silence. Feeling the rhythm of a school comforted me. I got used to telling the time by counting bells. When I heard the last bell before noon, I would excitedly exclaim to Angela, “Almost time to pick up Jie-jie!” Then I would push Angela’s stroller and walk through the tiny park where some huge red-wooded trees sheltered a small playground. A merry-go-round was in a sand box, waiting for kids to enjoy.
I noticed that this school was more ethnically diverse than the school in Rancho Palos Verdes. Parents and grandparents happily greeted their little ones by the gate, speaking different languages. Anelise and her classmate, a Korean girl, took the same route to go home. The girl’s grandpa and I would let them play on the merry-go-round. I would push it, making it turn faster and faster, and the girls would burst out with extremely excited laughter. The Grandpa would sit on the bench, watching them play. Neither of us spoke much English, so the way we communicated was through smiles and laughter, but at least we both knew “hi” and “bye.”
I was very impressed by a huge park located in the south part of the city, Cerritos Regional Park. An irregularly shaped artificial lake lapped at the open green lawn. A white fountain shot water up into the sky, humming in the tranquil, vast openness. We came to see model boats swerving around on the water among untroubled ducks and geese. Many grandfathers were instructing their grandchildren on their operation. On weekends, the park was festive, with music playing, picnic areas decorated with colorful balloons and garlands, and BBQ grills smoking with the sweet aroma of meat. Kids played on the lawn or rode bikes on the trails while adults prepared food or took care of children. The sun was bright, and the sky was blue. The air was clean. Surrounded by family in a place full of joy and peace, I felt profoundly blessed.
我和Henry一點也不迷信明星學校，而且我們也沒有財力買房子，所以我們並沒有對這學校的事情在意。Henry最有興趣的反倒是一家中國超市叫「頂好」的，他們有中國中食物賣，我們就開始享用我們熟悉的東西，比如豆腐，中國青菜和糕餅點心。而我呢，就對他們的圖書館特感興趣。那館佔地好大，比Rancho Pales verdes大上十倍不止，好像個大迷宮，我在裏面常常迷了路。那圖書館還有好多的外語藏書，中文書也占了好大部分。我站在書架前，深深體會到這個國家真的是個民族大熔爐，我們很幸運，能夠成為這個歡迎外來種族、外來文化的國家的一員。但是，我並不借出中文書來讀，因為我有一股積極學英文的熱情。
我注意到這學校的學生種族，比怡安的第一個學校要複雜。鐵門旁邊等著父母，祖父母，很多人用不同的語言和他們的小朋友打招呼。怡安的同學有個韓國女孩，她的爺爺天天來接她後，就跟我們走同一個路線回家。我們每天就在公園的椅子上坐下來，看著兩個小女孩去旋轉盤上轉個不停。應她們的要求，我常為她們加速推轉，讓她們又怕又興奮地，尖叫尖笑個不停。我們大家都不會說英文，所以我們就共同的語文- 微笑和大笑- 溝通 。不過，至少我們都會說「嗨，」和「再見！」
Chen Family Story #11(10/7/16)
Loaded with furniture and boxes, our rental truck pulled away from the tranquil apartment compound. We waved goodbye to Sylvia and her daughter Cindy. It felt sad leaving a place we had become so attached to. As our small car trailed behind the truck on the freeway, I tried to convince myself that starting anew wasn’t bad. Soon, when I discovered our rented two-story house was next to a small park and Anelise’s new school, my sadness was gone. Although the front lawn of the house had turned brown, the window on the second floor revealed the sweeping green lawn of the school. We wanted to enjoy the warm and peaceful feeling of the holidays, so the Christmas tree followed us all the way here. We quickly set up all the furniture; the tree stood proudly by the fireplace. At night, we played Christmas songs while the lights on the tree twinkled in the dark. A brand new and unfamiliar place had quickly become a home.
Wow! Happy, elating news! Our Taiwanese neighbors, the Pang family, who lived several houses down the road, were visiting us! Anelise’s favorite playmates San-San and Michael were coming with their grandparents and mom. Mr. and Mrs. Pang were visiting their sons who worked and lived in Silicon Valley. The family had arranged dates to visit us in LA as well. We picked them up from the Holiday Inn in Pasadena. As we drove up the 110 Freeway past downtown LA, the sight of unevenly standing concrete-metal skyscrapers against the gray sky shocked me. Once again, I was disappointed with the landscape of this big city. However, soon my eyes were wide open, hungrily observing the classical buildings and colorful landscapes in Pasadena, where, in my opinion, the traditional architecture aesthetic of America was much better represented.
Our two families were happily reunited. I asked them about our old neighbors. The subjects couldn’t be all covered without mentioning the Pang’s beloved dog, the loyal German shepherd Lucky. Lucky followed San-San around wherever she went. She would sit by the door as long as her junior master stayed in my house. While they were away, the neighbor was taking care of Lucky and their house. In the big cities of Taiwan, the majority of people reside in flats. They lamented the vanishing of the connection among neighbors. Quite in contrast, the small community in a rural area where we lived (about 20 or so residents) was a great example of a close knit neighborhood which almost everybody knew one another, and small favors such as feeding the dog, water the plants, or carpooling were regular.
I noticed that when Anelise played with her old friends, she was very relaxed and active. They screamed and laughed, and the Mandarin they spoke sounded like happy and cheerful music. What a difference! Now I could see the stress Anelise had in school as a newcomer – she was almost totally silent in her classes during her first year.
Sylvia visited me one day. She came alone. I cooked the dumplings she liked and we had lunch at home. She revealed to me that she would be a surrogate mother. “What is that?” I didn’t understand what “surrogate” meant. She explained to me that she would go through pregnancy and give birth to a child for an anonymous couple. “It is legal, and I can earn as much as thirty thousand dollars,” she said. I was shocked. Although it was not a thing that I had never heard of, here was a real person in front of me going to do that thing that only seemed to exist in the media. “I’m planning to get a divorce, and that money can help me to raise my kids alone for some time,” she said. “My marriage is over!” Her tone was firm and decisive. That money was crucial for her while she moved to New Mexico to stay with her own family. Deep in my mind I wished that she didn’t need to crash into a bump like divorce, but I kept silent for I knew that my opinion didn’t matter at all. Additionally, my English speaking skills were bad enough that I couldn’t say anything lengthy to express any complex thoughts. At that point I never encountered any troubling couple fighting for divorce, so I felt especially sad for her. I still had the image of her leaning on the couch with her legs stretching long, speaking calmly in her soft voice. Her relaxing gesture didn’t disguise the sadness shown in her eyes and smile. We never met again and finally lost touch with each other, but I always think of her, and wish her and her family the best.
Our life continued peacefully while Henry brought home the bread, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a money-earning job, so I stayed home as a housewife. It was 25 years ago, but Henry’s company implemented an energy-saving program, encouraging employees go to work by carpooling or by public transportation. Henry left for work at six A.M. on the bus, and came home at 4 P.M. The best moment of every day was walking along the sidewalk with Anelise by the side of Angela’s stroller to meet Henry. Before greeting him when he stepped off the bus, we looked at the flowers, trees, birds and squirrels in front yards of our neighborhood. After giving the girls a big hug, Henry would start to talk about his work all the way home. “The work here was very simple. I was just working on a small part of a big project,” he said. In Taiwan, he had to manage a computer company which created and completed many big projects. We were in a transitional period of time. Both of us faced a shrinking perspective on our future; mainly, we had to drop certain ambitions for our careers, and focus on survival. Later, he mentioned the rumor that his company would start to lay off employees. “I don’t think I’ll be targeted! They would not lay off a person they just hired!” he reasoned.
哇！大好消息振奮了我們！我們在台北的鄰居潘媽媽一家人，要到我們家來。潘媽媽家就住在離我們家幾棟房子遠的路底。在那台北郊區的社區裡，每戶人家都彼此認識。她的孫女珊珊是怡安的最好玩伴，這次潘媽媽和他們全家到聖荷西去看住在那兒她的兩個兒子的家庭，也順道來我們家看看。我們要去Pasadena 的Holiday Inn載他們，途中從110 高速公路往北開到洛杉磯市中心的邊緣，我就被眼前的景像驚嚇到。眼前是一棟棟的鋼架水泥老舊大樓，參差不齊的聳立到灰黑的天空。再一次我又被這個世界知名大城市的景色感到嚴重的失望。但是，當我們進入Pasadena 市，馬上對這市區的古典而優雅的建築，和彩色繽紛的花園感到無限驚喜，我想這應該是一個典型的，具有歷史傳統美感的美國都市。
我們兩個家庭很興奮地見面了, 我除了忙著詢問舊鄰居的現況，潘媽媽家的忠狗 Lucky 是少不了的話題。Lucky 是一隻德國狼犬，她總是陪伴著他的小主人珊珊，珊珊走到哪裡，她就跟到哪裡。珊珊到我們家來玩，她就坐在我家門口不動，直到珊珊出門，她就護送著小主人回家。現在他們不在，鄰居們就幫忙照顧Lucky和房子。在台灣的都市，大家都住在在大樓的公寓裡，人們老是感嘆人情薄弱，鄰居老死不相往來。但是我們住的那個郊外小社區，大約只有二十戶人家，和大台北市不同，幾乎每家人都互相認識。平常大家總會彼此幫助，比如臨時看管房子，澆水，搭便車等。我注意到當怡安和潘家孩子玩在一起的時候，非常放鬆活躍，他們吱吱喳喳地講著的中文，聽起來像音樂般的美妙。這讓我了解到怡安處在一個語言，文化，人種完全陌生的環境，會是多麼的緊張不適。她在美國教室中的第一年，幾乎沒有開口說過話。
就這樣，到現在為止，我們的生活算是很平靜。Henry 掙錢養家，我則是第一次體會到做一個純粹的家庭主婦的滋味。Henry 的公司早在二十五年前就提倡節約能源，他們鼓勵員工搭乘大眾運輸工具或共乘上班。Henry 配合制度，每天趕六點鐘的公車上班, 下班到站是四點。我們每天最快樂的時刻就是走路到公車站去接他。怡安走在安祺的娃娃車旁邊，我們一路說說唱唱，瀏覽樹木花草，松鼠小鳥，很快就走到了車站。Henry 給怡安一個擁抱後，就會開始談公司的工作。他說現在這份工作比起他在台灣可簡單太多了，他現在只需做大部門中的一份小技術工作。反之在台灣，他是一個電腦公司的軟硬體設計負責人，責任很重大。我們現在處於轉變期，得縮減我們對未來的展望，尤其是在事業上的野心與期待。我們早有心裡準備，在這裡，我們必須以求基本生存為重。之後，Henry 說大家傳流著公司即將遣散解雇員工的謠言。「我應該不會中標的，他們怎會遣散一個才新雇用的員工呢？」Henry 自我解釋著。
Chen Family Story #10
Reaching out to the community is important for a newly immigrated family, and taking part in religious activities is probably the most common way to do it, so a routine Sunday temple visit was added into our lives. I did not have a religious upbringing; we were limited to worshipping ancestors on traditional holidays, with food, incense, and a few words of appreciation silently spoken in mind. On the contrary, Henry’s family is strongly rooted in Buddhism. In the 1960s, my father-in-law was ordained as a priest of the I-Kuan-Tao Temple. It was a new religion founded in 1930’s in China that came to Taiwan after the Communists occupied the mainland. The theory behind it encompasses Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism. As a member of the family, I felt obligated to practice this religion, although most of the time with hesitance.
Sue and David quickly became involved with a newly established I-Kuan-Tao Temple located in the the city of Baldwin Park. The passionate believers, most of them Taiwanese, attended their Sunday rituals and classes. Many enthusiastic younger patrons who worked as accountants, engineers, or business owners would organize activities and give lectures to share their thoughts. Older folks would cook lunch. Kids were put into Chinese class. The most enjoyable moment was lunch time, when women revealed their secret vegetarian recipes and children’s schools’ information, and men talked about politics and business. To help the immigrants cope with their new lives as soon as possible, many regulations and tips were thrown around — “Get a car loan to establish your credit!” or “Buying a house? Location! Location! Location!” The most serious and practical one was “Never spank your child or you will go to jail!”
Henry’s job was stable, but over two hours of commuting every day became exhausting. When we met a young couple at the temple, we soon became their tenant. They both worked for a high tech company and the high pay allowed them to purchase a second home. They rented the old house to us at a monthly rate of $1300. Although it was higher than our previous rent, we accepted it gladly, considering the time and gas Henry could save. We started planning to move to the city of Cerritos. Leaving our new home in the small and quiet coastal town was sad, but moving forward was what the life of a settler was like, and we were ready for it.
Even though a big task was coming up, we didn’t want to skip Christmas decorations. Anelise took home many holiday crafts made at school. Paper snowflakes and pictures of Santa Claus with reindeer were up on the windows and walls. Su sent over her big artificial Christmas tree with all of the ornaments well kept in boxes. Ads in the mail taught us how to decorate the tree. Soon, it was full of lights, garlands of tinsel, and shining ornaments. As the advertisements instructed, I bought a “skirt” to cover the stand of the tree. While we sometimes went outside at night to marvel at the various adorned trees in neighbors’ windows, we enjoyed the tranquility and beauty that our colorful, sparkling tree created in the living room. I played Christmas songs on the tape recorder, and taught Anelise to sing my favorite one, ”Silent Night”.
The time had come to say goodbye to the neighbors. When we visited my neighbour Robert, he told us that he had just been diagnosed with cancer. We felt sad and Henry made a copy of his favorite soothing music tape for him. When we gave him the tape, he played it, and tears came to his eyes. “I am gonna miss this little girl so much!” He hugged Anelise.
Later, we were invited to a Christmas party that David’s cousin was having. The huge Spanish style house was tucked away in a gated community. Its ceiling was two stories high, and the kitchen was about the size of our apartment! We were stunned! We had seen large houses in America, but not at this scale. The living room was furnished with classic Chinese style furniture – huge vases with flowers, and a big paintbrush painting. I later discovered that this living room was only functioning as a showroom. Their real living room was in the back, equipped with leather couches, a big screen TV, and a magnificent stereo system. The daughter, who was a few years older than Anelise, invited her to play in her princess style bedroom. We got a new idea of what it was like being a rich American.
It was the morning of Christmas Day, I knocked on our neighbor Sylvia’s door in order to say goodbye. The moment she opened the door, I was shocked. Her eyes were black and cheek bruised. I asked her what happened and her tears poured. The night before, she had been beaten up by her husband when she refused to go to her mother-in-law’s for Christmas dinner. “I prepared the dinner already,” she explained. “The table had been set and everything was ready. His mother suddenly called and asked us to go to her place. She hadn’t invited us and suddenly she makes the command! I refused to go but my husband insisted we had to go. We had a fight and he hit me.” Her husband took the children and stormed out to his mother’s. She must have cried all night because her eyes were also swollen. Although I was so upset and shocked, I didn’t know what to do. “What will you do?” I asked. “I have to divorce my husband,” she said. “I can’t stand this anymore! This is not the first time it has happened!” I felt very sad that we were moving away and I couldn’t help her at all. She hugged me and promised me that she would visit us.
Sue 和David此時很勤奮地參加一個新成立的一貫道道院的活動，這個新成立的道院位在Baldwin Park，當時的道親多是台灣移民。他們很積極努力，每個禮拜天準時到佛堂參拜，聽習經文。年輕而充滿熱情的信徒，大多數是會計師，工程師，或生意老闆，是這個團體的主力，他們上台講道並且策劃活動。年紀大些的道親們就負責在廚房烹煮中飯，年幼的孩子則送入中文班學習。最受人喜愛的時候便是中餐，老老少少共聚，享用着道親們各家的拿手純素家常菜。大家一邊吃着，一邊聊天。女人們分享私家食譜，或孩子上學的資訊，男人們便談論政治或生意經。為了讓新來乍到的移民們儘快地適應新生活，很多人大力宣傳他們的忠言或小秘訣：「用貸款買車好建立信用！」「買房子秘訣？地點！地點！地點！」「絶不能打孩子，否則要坐牢！」
Henry 的工作已穩定下來，但是單程一小時的車程去上下班也真是累人。我們在佛堂認識了一對年輕夫婦，他們就成為我們的房東了。這對同在高科技公司工作的電腦工程師剛剛買一棟新房子，他們便把舊房子出租了。月租一千三百元是比我們的第一個房租高，但是卻可以省下許多時間精力和汽油，我們很樂意地把房子租下來了。接下來就要計劃搬家了，我們的新家在喜瑞都市 (Cerritos)。離開這個寧靜的海濱小城很令人傷感，但是遷移不定就是新移民追求新生活的第一要素，我們早有了心理準備。
是和鄰居們道別的時候了。我們去 Robert 家時，他告訴我們他最近才發現自己得了癌症。我們很難過，Henry轉錄了一個錄音帶給他，那是我們最喜歡聽的輕音樂曲專輯，當他把帶子放進錄音機裡，播放出抒情的音樂時，他的眼裡已經浮上了淚水。「我一定會很想念這個小女孩的啊！」他抱了一下怡安。
It’s San Francisco! As the bus approached the city, my mind brought me back to the scene of me, a 13-year-old girl in Taiwan, singing this song:
If you’re going to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair
If you’re going to San Francisco
You’re gonna meet some gentle people there
For those who come to San Francisco
Summertime will be a love-in there
In the streets of San Francisco
Gentle people with flowers in their hair
All across the nation
Such a strange vibration
People in motion
There’s a whole generation
With a new explanation
People in motion
People in motion
For those who come to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair
If you come to San Francisco
Summertime will be a love-in there
The song was released in 1967. We would listen on a 1960’s stereo in our living room. My older brother, a high schooler, followed the fashion and started collecting American pop records. Spending my weekends sitting next to the stereo and singing along with them was one of my favorite activities when I was in middle school. I fell in love with this one for its beautiful melody and lyrics. “Why does the song praise a city full of gentle people, and ask them to wear flowers in their hair?” I had asked myself, but I never got an answer. “The song must be made for the purpose of tourism!” I explained to myself satisfactorily.
Apparently, I was not educated enough to understand how historically important the song was to this period in history. As the bus arrived in the city and I started to hum the melody, I still had no idea that this song was not for telling tourists to spend money shopping or sightseeing in San Francisco, but for advocating a city that had become the symbol of the antiwar and counterculture movement. It reflected the dramatic radical 60’s in American history — the Cold War began, the brutal Vietnam War worsened, and the Civil Rights movement rose to its peak.
Taiwan has always been closely connected with America not only politically, but also culturally. The Chiang Kai-Shek government, which was defeated by the Chinese Communists and fled to Taiwan, became a close ally of the democratic world, especially America. A decade later, many people like me enjoyed many aspects of American culture, especially American pop music, although we we did not understand its background. Now I can certainly blame the nonexistence of the internet, as well as a poor curriculum, which failed to equip students with a global view, as the cause of my ignorance.
Henry was excited to show us the skyscraper where his previous office was located. We took the cable car up and down the streets like the scenes I saw in the movies. We visited the park and Golden Gate Bridge. I was startled by the sight of the bright red bridge. Its thick metal wires hung in curves like a huge red garland decorating the dome of the blue sky and ocean. Henry enthusiastically addressed how relaxing it was to walk through Golden Gate Park, breathing the fresh air with the smell of pine trees on the weekend.
In the shopping district, tourists spoke in many different languages, walking by and looking around curiously with smiles on their faces. We were among them. Anelise grabbed my hand tightly in fear of getting lost. At the Fisherman’s Wharf, many street artists were miming statues. I wanted to observe their subtle movements, but Anelise tried to pull me away from them. “They look scary!” she exclaimed. At night, we stayed in the Holiday Inn outside of the city. We sat on the floor eating crab that we bought from the Fisherman’s Wharf and watching “E. T.” on TV. “E.T. gave me a nightmare that night!” Anelise remembered, years later. I guess for a little kid, such a huge, unknown world was not as fun as the adults thought it.
Our last stop was the city of Solvang. It’s a tourist destination famous for its Danish style architecture. Danish immigrants settled there in the 1910’s and gave the town a name in their language, meaning “Sunny Field.” The bright blue sky and dazzling sunlight bathed the towering windmill, thatch roofing, and half-timbered facade of the buildings. The sights made me feel like we were in a fairytale book. A statue of the Little Mermaid sat on the street. I saw the plaque of the fairytale creator, H.C. Anderson. It reminded me of how sad I felt when I read the heartbroken Little Mermaid turns into sea foam. The streets were narrow, with the small stores tightly packed in and close to one another. Most of them were bakeries or souvenir stores. We sat in a cute cafe and enjoyed their Danish cookies and croissants.
Can the tourists, who is busily taking pictures, shopping and eating, understand lives 100 years ago? I started to imagine the pioneers who were hustling with errands: they were on horses or wagons, exchanging their produce, shopping for goods, chatting about weather, farming and their family. This village’s vibrations, with its coziness and charm, lay in contrast to Hearst Castle – sitting alone on top of the hill, huge but empty.
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Former Futurelink Teacher’s New Music Composition CurriculumCongratulations to former Futurelink teacher Dr. David Tsai on the publication of his new curriculum on music theory! Click the picture to check it out on Amazon!