17. As Water Reflects an Image, So the Face Reflects the Heart

"As water reflects a face, so a man's heart reflects the man." (Proverbs 27:19) I have always believed in this, and i know that it is true. Interestingly, there are two parts to this verse. The first part talks about a physical reflection, and the ease water can reflect an image. The second part talks about an inward reflection, how the heart can affect the being of a person. Combine these two parts, and i form an interpretation which says that the heart affects the thoughts of a person, then the decisions of a person, then the actions of a person, and finally the facial appearance and expression of a person. You can't hide what is in your heart.

One day i came home with severe bruising all over my body. I knew roughly why this had happened, as the red marks were symmetrical from top to bottom. I seldom take pictures of myself, especially of my body, of course unless for special occasions and this time being to show my mum what a brave boy her son has been in taiwan, and that he's still able to stand on two legs. Now i must start from the beginning.

It began one evening when my aunty 'L' known as 'L', invited me to go up into the mountains. To be polite, i said yes, and since there wasn't much to do at L's house, to say that i was busy would be asking to be exposed on the spot. So up we drove to the mountains. Though don't underestimate taiwanese mountains, the island may be small, but the mountains are steep. Half an hour later, we arrived at a massage house. How pleasant that L is taking me for a massage, i thought. I really could not wait to get inside. I have always been somebody who likes being touched. When i was young, my dad had to touch/massage me for many hours before i would fall asleep. And now that i am older and have more energy, it is always my turn to massage people to sleep. Thus, I have dreamed of this place, the massage house, for so so long.

Upon entering the massage house, we were greeted by three massaging men. Well-built, tall, thick arms - i'd say a it is a case of big talent small use. One of the men told me to take my clothes off. I took off my jacket. He wanted more. I took off my shirt. But he still wasn't satisfied. Okay so I took off my socks. But he disagreed. This time he eyed my pants with the 'ooh-don't-be-so-shy' look. And i knew that i was in big trouble. At that point in time i thought to myself: 'goodness, what could be worse than a thigh massage at this time of night?' But later on i found the answer to the question to be: any of the many shifty manouevres this massaging man stores inside his sleeves.

The masseur sometimes had me on my stomach while he pressed on my gluteus maximus. That is okay comfortable for a guy, but after a while, it became embarrassing, especially when he shifted my position a few times to wrestle-hold me in new postures. The standard thoughts of a massagee are things such as: "hmmm....", "go to sleeeeep...", "15 more minutes...", "yeah..." But the whole time, i was thinking about all the things a massagee should not be needing to thinking about during a massage. I figured that he mustn't be an experienced masseur to overly not understand guys' needs , especially when he is a man himself.

The masseur used a muscle scraper, which looked like a comb but it had some mass and was rock hard. He held and scraped it deeply and repetitively over most muscle areas on my body waist up and thigh down. The pain is indescribable with a few words, so i have to use a chinese idiom called 'sheng bu ru si' (alive not better than dead). Though i was not ready to die, i had learnt how to use the idiom. With each scrape, i would let out a singular side-splitting laughter. Just as seen on the movies, when pain reaches a certain level, the character no longer screams but laughs, because there is no more energy left for screaming. And why didn't the man massager stop his work at the sound of my explosive fragments of laughter? Because my aunty L had already paid him good money to spend time with me all night.

As the masseur was scraping, he was surprised to tell me that i was getting red bruises in the places he was contacting. I asked him why it didn't hurt afterwards. And he told me it was an uncommon form of muscular stress, that my muscles are constantly being exercised, and the red marks are just indications of the muscles that were ready to buff out of my fat and skin. Doesn't look much of it in real life does it? Doesn't even look like it with my clothes off.

It seemed to me, through the way that i was spoilt, that my aunty L didn't know how to spend her money. Not that it was a waste to spend money on me, but for the fact that she has so much money, i predict, would give her headaches every day. She took me to five-star restaurants and top-quality and delicate-sized-food all-you-can-eats, where i was careful of what or how much i ate just in case i scared L's daughter.

The streets of taiwan are peppered with small dessert like the one above, which would make a fortune if it opens in melbourne. There was a particular franchise called 'Ginger Female Duck' and its specialty was ginger female duck. As i was travelling around taiwan, i saw many times protruding signs and shopfront labels of 'Ginger Female Duck' written in ancient traditional font with its red-backgrounded and its delicious black duck logo. How i need one of those ducks, i thought each time walking past and seeing that sign.

Sure enough, one day, L brought home a 'Ginger Female Duck'. She put it in a bowl and called me enthusiastically to quickly come to try it before it turns cold. Quickly i was, to sit down on the sofa next to L in front of the tv with a bowl of duck on the coffee table. The first forkful was awesome! My eyes lit up to tell L just how wonderful it had tasted, and how it was twice as good as what i pictured it to be. And it was great! And it was tasty! And it was profound! And it was different! And it was flavoursome! And it was unique! And it was intense! And it was mind-boggling! And it was heart-throbbing! And wait, it was... absolutely disgusting! I was now up to my 12th forkful and my forkfuls were becoming smaller and smaller.

My aunty was staring at me with a kind smile. She asked: "hao bu hao chi? (is it good?)" Now to answer the question, i would have responded: "uh...bu tai xi guan eh...(not too used to it)." However, it was impossible that i could say that. Not after telling her just 10 seconds ago that it was awesome. So i said: "yes it is good." Then she said: "oh good, daughter and i have already had some, the rest of the bowl is yours. bu yao ke qi! (don't be so polite about eating the whole thing)." That was when my stomach began turn. And being inside my aunty's peripheral vision, even though she was laughing and commenting in front of the tv, forced me to eat on fork by fork. At this point, i could feel the duck gravitating inside my stomach as the contents of my stomach was ready to pour out. This agony was indescribable in a few words, such that i have to use a chinese idiom, this time called 'jin tui liang nan" which means 'forward, backwards, both difficult'. This idiom is usually used in the context of wars where an army is trapped in a dilemma, such that they cannot move forward to attack nor can they move back in retreat. Applied to my case, i was not able to forward any more food into my stomach, nor was i ready to vomit the contents of my stomach back to where it came from. Now that's some application.

After some time, the aftertaste from that night had still not subsided. Now, if you say to me the words 'Ginger Female Duck', i would give you a slow meditating look as i try to release those pockets of air out of my stomach. Yes even right now. Even if you remind me via sms.

(To be continued...)

16. Pleasing to my eyes

There was just something that i did not understand as i walked the streets of taipei. That was, the amount of basketball machines inside the city of taipei. I would walk from arcade to arcade to sometimes find rows of 20 basketball machines all lined up, and not have been surprised if three quarters of those were occupied. Sometimes the basketball machines don't need an arcade to simply be there; they're just there. Back home, basketball machines are some of the most obtuse things ever. They can be found in gaming zones and share just-about-equal reputations with whack-a-croc, wheel-of-fortune, roll-a-ball-into-a-target and feed big momma. If you wanted to play on one these machines in australia, you would have to think again, and come back when it is darker, to save yourself the embarrassment of being seen.

The way to play this game was to shoot as many baskets in a certain amount of time. There are three levels in the entire game, and if one level is passed, the player is allowed into the next one. Each level has 60 seconds. So that's 180 seconds in total. A good score would be around about 220.

One day, as i was browsing the tv at my aunty's house, i discovered what the fuss was all about. Celebrities on tv were playing the machines, and that's what it was all about. Tv also showed basketball competitions endorsed by celebrities. A major competition at that time was taken out by a 40yr old mother of two, who scored 880 points. You could imagine the stance she would have to take and what she would need to perform with her arms every quarter of a second. Though she wasn't a celebrity at that time, she soon became more like one. For the boys in the picture, they were supposed to be 'beyond cool' and definitely way cooler than basketball machines, but because of social influence, all things became possible. If a celebrity could do it, people don't have the power to put you down for doing it. If everyone does it, the action suddenly becomes normal e.g. coughing and spitting large phlegms while lining up in a queue to buy an ice-cream. It would be those 'normal' things in different cultures, which people do so instinctively that i find most pleasing to my eyes.

On the night of our tour graduation, a few of the groups were selected to give a repeated performance of plays/dances/songs which were performed throughout the tour. The graduation night was supposedly special because, besides the fact that it was the second last night, four 'official party' members were invited to come to watch in the front row or best seats. We were told to be on our best behaviour.

As i studied this photo, i began to realise that the hand positions of the four official party members formed a perfect evolution of a clap cycle. Starting from the right, the climax of a clap is when two hands are together making a loud sound. This evolves into a more hesitant approach, where the hands cup into each other so that the slower claps won't look awkward compared to when it is done in the together position. From there, it changes into a faint-hearted anticipation of something worth clapping for. The final evolution is of the hand position of the lady on the left: dormant.

The official party was being socially influenced in two ways. The first way was when everyone in the audience started clapping for a local hero after he says an in-joke. Everyone was cheering and going crazy both at the humour and the fact that it was 'the person'. While this was happening, the official party also decided to clap, not knowing the reason, but they did it nonetheless. Seeing that there were people in front of the front row taking pictures of the official party, they had a reason to put on some facial expression while clapping to show some facial appreciation, however obliged it may have seemed. The second way is seen in the evolution. The audience on the left quietened before the audience on the right, therefore there was a wave of quietness inside the auditorium. However official the party was, i was not so sure, but it was for certain that if a pretend clap from a majority had been setup beforehand, it would trigger the party to also clap, and perhaps with a simulated smile on their faces.

In conclusion, it is not only possible for celebrities to influence teenagers and young adults, but it can also go the other way around. In organizational terms, it is not always a top-down approach where management dictates changes, but the reverse can happen to give organizations a bottom-to-top influence, which is not extraordinary. Though socially, I look forward to being amused by this phenomenon.