Pappa Hardy's Musings on Life.

When I was 19 and called on a mission to Taiwan, I was pleased that I was going to learn to speak a language that is spoken by about one in four of everyone that lives on this earth. At the time, China and Taiwan were considered to be second or their level countries. No more. China and Taiwan or now leading out, and it makes me wish that my Mandarin was not a Second Language, and one poorly spoken at that. When I am around Mandarin speakers now (primarily Chinese who have it as their first and primary language) it makes me wish I had followed up on my intentions to study Mandarin and become fluent in its use. Instead, I am just a hack of the language and don’t understand. I wish Mandarin were my first language, or at least I could pretend so.

A long time ago I actually could speak fairly passable Mandarin Chinese. This has become a curse for me. Everywhere I go, I see Chinese people. I see them in Las Vegas in gaggles. I seem them in Utah, on cruises, and in every other place imaginable. I love the Chinese people. I respect them, I care for them, and they are a great people. There are also a lot of them. Whenever I start thinking about that race of people, like I did recently in Las Vegas when I saw a lot of them, I realize that when they talk about a Billion Chinese they are talking about a lot of people.

Here they are, in my home town, living and working and playing, far from the racial birth place. When you are over in Asia, you realize just how many a billion is and you come to respect them even more. They have come to leave us a great legacy of culture, love, and of history. I love the Chinese people, but my Mandarin has become a curse because I have lost whatever art and ability I had of speaking it. I wish I had kept up on it more, because I love this people and want to be able to speak to them.

I heard a quote today that was made by a member of the US Olympic team yesterday or today at the Olympic Games in Beijing. It was Dara Torres, a member of the team who at age 41 is the oldest swimmer to be swimming at the games. She said, after winning a silver medal, Do not put an Age Limit on Your Dreams.

There is so much truth and wisdom in those remarks. So often, we allow ourselves to give up on cherished dreams or goals because time has passed us by. We no longer keep trying to accomplish our dreams and instead settle for second best. Yesterday I just turned 57, and I am on my way to being 60. One might believe (particularly me) that my dreams are no longer something that I can accomplish and that I should settle for second best. I have decided that I will no longer settle for second best, but that I will accomplish my dreams. I hope that my children and friends also obtain their dreams, and never give up, never give in.

I sat and watched last night, all 4.5 hours, the opening ceremonies of the 29th Summer Olympiad known as the Beijing Olympic Games. I normally would never sit and watch one TV show or event for an hour, let alone 4.5. It was a fabulous show. However, what really affected me was the special place that I have in my heart for the Chinese people, and the obvious pride that they must be feeling at this moment. I longed to be there, sharing this moment with them.

No one can live with or know the Chinese people and not be profoundly affected. I lived for 3 years in Taiwan and love this people like my own. My second family lives in Beijing and Taiwan now. They are a wonderful people who have a unique history and past. We must cherish them, yet know and understand them.

Bonnie and I had planned to be in Beijing next month. Then, a heart operation for me has changed our plans. I had given up on going to Beijing to see our friends there, but now want so much to go there and spend some time amongst these wonderful Chinese. I feel the pull of Beijing, and the pull of the Orient. I hope we can figure out how to go there.

Strangely enough, my recent trip to Las Vegas made me think about the time when I was a missionary many years ago, far too many years ago than I want to think about (38 to be exact) when I was a young, bushy tailed missionary in Taiwan. How in the heck does Las Vegas remind me about door approaches.

As an missionary, we pretty well identified who we wanted to talk to who would likely to most willing to listen to our message. Then, we were taught on exactly what to say and how to say it when approaching our potential “contact”.

In Las Vegas on our most recent trip, as opposed to previous trips that I made there, they were trying to sell time shares to a “Consolidated Resort Enterprise”, a time share near McCarran International Airport call the “The Tahitian Resort”. Every casino, at every door and in places in between, was engaged in selling these time shares and the approach is inevitably the same. The hook was to get you show tickets or gambling money for a bargain price, that is, listening to a presentation about the time share.

They were experts at it. Too bad we couldn’t have them proselytizing as missionaries for the LDS Church. Who knows, maybe we would have to build more churches in Las Vegas to hold all of the converts as a result of their hard work.

Last night I learned that I have a severe case of this disease. I didn’t learn it from a doctor. I didn’t learn it from a therapist or some pundit, or a newspaper person. I didn’t learn it from a critic, or from a member of my family. I did realize it as someone at a reunion described a common malady that strikes anyone that has lived amongst the Chinese people, whether it be as a missionary, a student, or in some other way.

Last night Bonnie and I attended a reunion arranged by the Taiwan Reunion committee.
It was a nice event, but it was there that a speaker indicated that those of us who have lived in China (Taiwan) have fallen hopelessly in love with the people, their humility, and their culture. I then realized that I suffer from this disease. What else impels me to always want to return, to visit with my Chinese friends, to hear beautiful Mandarin spoken in my presence. I am hopelessly addicted and succumbing to this disease. I think we want to hop on the next plain out and get to Taiwan to visit our friends. I love these Chinese people.

We had some surprises when we went to Taiwan two years ago in August. One was the fact that the original Butter Coconut Cookies which I had come to love as a student in Taiwan with Chris and Bonnie as my compatriots, still existed and tasted as great as ever. Products are one thing that seem change over time.

The wide spread existence of Jyau-dz stands was another blessing and surprise. I had grown to love Jyau-dz (Cooked dumplings) as a missionary, loved them even more as a student, and then when we returned, they had lots of restaurants that served only them. It was my dream come true.

As a missionary and as a student, buses were our primary form of transportation and they were just crowded so badly that they were a real trial. Upon our return, they were not bad at all. Of course, there were more cars and other forms of surface transportation, but it wasn’t until I rode the subway that had not been there in 1972 that I realized where all of the riders had gone. That system was so efficient and nice that it got you across the city in 15 minutes rather than an hour. No wonder no one was on the buses.

Finally, the places people lived were very nice, very first world, and I no longer felt like I was living a step below my position as an American. Yes, there were many, very wonderful surprises when I returned to Taiwan after an absence of 30 years.

We had a number of disappointments when we went to Taiwan a couple of years ago. The first was, where did those soy sauce eggs go that I had come to love as a student at National Taiwan University. In that same vain, they used to have a number of very nice traditional sit down Chinese restaurants that served the real thing. Instead, we found few of those restaurants but a ton of fast food places, particularly American places like McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken, 7-Eleven, and Starbucks. Things also were very expensive, and that was a disappointment as well. It was not a very disappointing trip, but there were some things that changed for the worse.

One of the traditions that exists in Taiwan that has spilled over into my very American home (with the exception of our entry room, which is very Chinese) is that we all leave our shoes at the door. There is an unspoken rule in Taiwan that you leave the shoes at the door, to keep the homes clean and to show respect to your hosts.

Likewise, my very Chinese/American wife requires that we leave our shoes at the door. We do that so that we can keep the house clean. In fact, she is very strict about this practice and doesn’t allow us to bring dirty shoes in the cars even. While most people have floor mats to cover and protect the floor carpet in your car, we have towels to cover the floor mats, to cover the carpet. I have asked my wife when we will have more towels, to cover the towels, to cover the floor mats, that cover the carpet. Sometimes, I think we have adopted the Chinese traditions to the extreme.

Going on the cruise for some reason made me think back to an experience that I had in Taiwan over 30 years ago.

I was involved in Scouting, in Taiwan of all places, as the Order of the Arrow Chapter Advisor. We had scheduled an ordeal ceremony for an area near Hsin Chu Taiwan where we were assured we could have open fires. The ordeal was to be on a Chinese military base that we had been given permission to use for scouting events.

The two day event was relatively uneventful until we were right in the middle of the induction ceremony, when two Chinese army guys stepped into the middle of our ceremony circle, and I had to, in my none to good Chinese, explain why we had campfires going in the middle of their military base. They couldn’t understand why we were costumed as Indians. They finally got the message, but not because of my language.