屏東爺爺

「你已經死了！」我對著他說，「怎麼還在這裡？我朋友等一下就來了，」他無動於衷，坐在藤長椅上，炯炯有神的看著我，「爺爺，你至少應該是…. 很虛弱的吧。」
在他開口說話前，我醒了過來。
這是這半年來第 N 次了，屏東爺爺一再地出現在我夢裡。

我有兩個爺爺，一個在台北，一個在屏東。台北的爺爺覺得叫外公太見外，所以叫爺爺。屏東的爺爺，見到面的時候，叫爺爺，日常生活裡跟家人提及他的時候，他叫做「屏東爺爺」。

屏東爺爺在 1998 年的八月過世了。
死因：他把自己餓死了。
這是我人生重大的事件之一，影響的重大程度直至今日依舊，我依舊不願意皈依儒家。
外國人一直以為儒家思想是一種宗教，我們甚至有孔廟，對外國人來說這種偶像崇拜，就是一種宗教，更何況孔孟等聖賢立了許多教條，而且中華文化獨尊儒術數千年，人人從小背誦三字經倫語之類的文言文，像是基督教徒背聖經，只學不問的相信那些文字。
儒家思想是一種哲學，是一種思想，是一種我不想跟隨到底的教條。

小學的時候，每一年夏天，我都在屏東度過，爸爸媽媽說我是去陪爺爺，我倒覺得他們是把我丟到屏東去省得他們麻煩。
爺爺只有一條腿，應該說一條半，他的右腿（我跟麻嗎都不太確定爺爺是少哪一條腿，目前先依賴我的記性）在一場修公共電話的意外中截掉了，詳細情形只有他自己知道吧，總之那久遠年代的公共電話又大又重，身為電信人員的爺爺的腿被電話砸下，從我有記憶以來他只有三分之一個右小腿連在他的右膝蓋下。
他常常用他的「yakimo」右腿嚇孫子們作為娛樂。每天下午賣烤地瓜的小販會經過爺爺的巷子，喊著「yakimo」，如果我乖，爺爺就會買一個或是兩個給我。烤地瓜的皮黑黑皺皺的，還真有點像他的右小腿。

爺爺很少跟我玩，他有他的威嚴，我有我的膽怯，我不記得我跟他有多少的對話，我也似乎沒跟他撒嬌過，五六個夏天裡，每天過著一樣的生活。
爺爺在那一場意外之後似乎就提早退休了，我成為他退休無聊的生活裡的另一個無聊的元素。
早上天還沒亮，他騎著他的白色機車去公園運動，基本上就是甩甩手散散步，我幾乎都跟著他去，但是我待在操場旁邊的欄杆處跟自己玩，培養一覺醒來後就做白日夢的習慣。然後六七點左右，到市場買菜吃早餐，爺爺天天早上都吃一樣的麵，好大一碗湯麵，他每次都加好多好大湯匙的好辣的辣椒醬，證明湖南人多愛吃辣。有的時候，他還會叫鹹豆漿，鹹豆漿的意思就是豆漿放蔥花、打蛋、丟油條，還有好多好辣的辣椒醬。我呢，偶爾湯麵，偶爾乾麵，偶爾涼麵，偶爾滷肉飯，偶爾雞肉飯，偶爾飯糰。
離開市場前，爺爺會問我要不要大餅，我都會說要。雖然說台北的爺爺才是山東人，但是我喜歡上山東大餅是跟屏東爺爺學的。

早上的時光通常就是我待在三樓的房間裡做白日夢和寫暑假作業。嗯… 大部分是在做白日夢，我窩在被單裡想像著自己的童話故事。爺爺通常在客廳裡看平劇或是華視莒光日節目，有時他會坐在門外吹風，跟路過的鄰居台槓。

午餐都會很準時的在正午開飯，因為「天天開心」在十二點開演，我到現在還會哼天天開心的主題曲呢。半個小時之後，繼續看台視新聞，一點鐘看華視的「好彩頭」，一點半看中視的八點檔重播，所有潘盈紫的古裝片都是在暑假的時候看完的，「星星知我心」更是童年回憶的重頭戲。禮拜六中午還有「中國民間故事」可以看。

下午，二姑姑偶爾會來帶我出去玩，看電影、逛公園、有幾次跟著她和她男友去山地門或是海邊，但是我記憶所及的有限。
五點以前，我會跟我的綠色塑膠青蛙洗好澡，每天都泡澡泡到手腳皺皺的才願意爬出浴缸。五點開始看卡通看到七點鐘，有幾個夏天在六點半的時候就要把電視轉台權還給爺爺，因為他要看布袋戲或是歌仔戲。雖然說，台北的奶奶才是講台語的，但是我開始接觸台語文化是跟屏東爺爺學的。

晚餐配七點的新聞，接上八點的連續劇，我跟著麻嗎在台北的教誨，九點多或是十點以前一定上床睡覺。除非我在二姑姑家裡過夜，我會跟她一起看電視或是玩跳棋、大富翁到很晚很晚才睡覺。除非是禮拜三晚上，大街上有流動夜市可以去逛，爺爺或是二姑姑會買烤玉米給我吃。

屏東爺爺教我下象棋，二姑姑教我下跳棋和圍棋和玩大富翁。我喜歡表哥表姊也來屏東陪爺爺的幾個夏天，我可以玩大富翁很多次，可以不用一個人去公園玩，可以搶著最好吃的 yakimo，雖然他們喜歡講鬼故事嚇我，雖然我不喜歡表姊的紙娃娃。

我不喜歡屏東爺爺家，尤其是他的房間，因為牆上掛著很多相片：爺爺年輕時候的相片、爸爸當兵時的相片、麻嗎的婚紗照、漢漢的成名照（我弟弟最傑出的獨照，那是他還不會走路前，坐在溪頭賓館裡紅色沙發上，白白胖胖的臉和紅紅的小嘴），當然還有其他照片，不過我不記得了。我不喜歡房間裡有任何相片或是任何娃娃，我害怕有臉的東西… （這是自閉症的症狀，幸好我從三歲開始就不斷的證明自己在公開場合很會說話，推翻了自閉症的可能性）。
即使其他房間，我也不喜歡，因為有其他照片，尤其是三樓左邊的那間，陽光照不進去，牆上有一張好大的金瑞瑤海報，總覺得她在盯著我看。

九歲那年起吧，我總算沒在夏天時「回屏東」（「回」這個字一點都不正確）陪爺爺，不過改在寒假回去一個月，反正屏東總是夏季的天氣，記憶裡的我總是短褲脫鞋的樣子。只有在考高中的那年，我藉口要唸書而留在台北。
孤單的我在屏東的時候總是想著一個問題：為什麼總是我來陪他呢？他有五個小孩，有十個孫子，應該有更多天倫樂才對。難道身為長子的大女兒就要獨自扛著這個重擔嗎？
這一切都是麻嗎的錯！因為麻嗎敬愛爺爺，麻嗎覺得爺爺是個孤單的獨居老人，作晚輩的應該要去多陪陪他。這一切也是我的錯！因為我總是聽麻嗎的話，不吵不鬧，委屈自己吞。
其他人大概覺得我去陪他就夠了，既然有人自願，他們何必也一起浪費光陰。

那年，得知爺爺病了，一開始我以為是肝病還是癌症，爾然聽到爸爸電話裡跟某個姑姑的談話，才知道爺爺在絕食。
他老了，我長大了，已經不再每年回去一兩個月陪他，卻沒有其他自願者。他想要娶回奶奶，但是他的兒女們不允許；他甚至想過另找老伴，兒女們還是不允許；他巡迴過台北、台中、高雄，住過各個兒女的家，但是沒有人要留他。於是他累了，來個最後一搏奪取兒女的注意力，但是絕食絕過了頭吧，他沒力氣眷戀人世了。
起初，兒女送他進養老院，後來病情轉下，最孝順的二姑姑也放手了，於是他被轉到台北的養老院。

那天，麻嗎帶我去看他。
一進門，醫藥味和氧氣唧筒聲把我帶進另一個世界，我見到另一個人，他不是我的爺爺，而是一副皮包骨在上半身和下半身之間圍著超大尺寸紙尿褲。麻嗎說：「爸，我們來看你了。」
麻嗎是他最疼的媳婦，即使法律上她已經不是他的媳婦了。

在辛亥殯儀館裡，五個子女聚首，淚不太多，肅穆安靜，我一滴淚都沒留下。
卻在大姑姑哭天喊地的那一刻，我氣憤，我噁心，幾天後我認定孔孟思想的失敗。

在爺爺還健在的時候，他們極少關心他，爸爸幾乎不打個電話回家，除非麻嗎提醒他。在爺爺還健在的時候，他們只在乎自己有多恨奶奶，不讓她回來，卻不關心爺爺的孤獨和也不接受爺爺早已寬恕奶奶曾犯下的錯（天曉得是不是奶奶的錯導致她離家棄子？）在爺爺還健在的時候，他們以為我就夠了，卻不願意多花時間聽他說話。然後他走了，他們在靈前的每一句以「爸」開頭的話，我聽起來都是謊言。

親子關係也屬於人際關係，所有的人際關係都是互相的，我不再相信儒家所言的五倫是多麼不可違背，如果我感受不到長輩給我的愛，我為什麼要愛他們？如果他們沒有做任何值得尊敬的事情，我為什麼要繼續敬畏他們？如果兒女不付出關心，父母當然放棄關心。
從父母的婚姻到爺爺的葬禮，我從膽怯寡言的乖小孩到得理不饒人的好小孩。不到成年，已經看盡冷暖，我決定我要自己決定孔子的哪一句話才是值得聽的。

爺爺的髮是黑的，油油的從髮際梳到髮尾。
走路有點頗，因為義肢不挺舒服。
微凸的肚皮，看著電視的坐像，他在我夢裡就像我小時候的屏東爺爺。
不知道為什麼近來老是夢到他，麻嗎說因為他是真的關心我的，我說爺爺啊，走吧，我很好，麻嗎也很好，我們都學會了走自己要的路，多喜多悲都是自己選擇的，你就放心吧。

THE month

December again.
Meaning I am going to start saying a new number when my age is asked for, as finally all my dear friends already added one to their previous age. They, dear they, had fun in Taiwan, celebrating the great month of the year. Ah, December. Ah, I miss those years in Taipei, with them.
At the meantime, one of my new friends, Patria threw her B-day party in Zola. Her birthday is the same day as one of my old friends, Yellow. See? No matter where I am, I always meet someone alike, someone I like, someone who has the same birthday as someone.

Passion does not die as you get older. Passion simply changes.
Personality does not just change. Some aspects of it may fade away, and others may simply get stronger.

I am so in love with Tango or the so-called Argentine Tango, which is getting more and more popular in the United States, and very popular in Germany and France (according to my European friends who are also so in love with Tango.) The more I learn it, the more judgmental I have become. Yes, I love it and enjoy it and hate it when it is ruined by bad dancers or stupid ideas about how to learn it. OK, yes I am judgmental, honestly and frankly.
You go to YouTube.com and search for the key word “Tango”, and you’ll see how beautiful the dance is. One video name kinda caught my attention and immediately made me frown at it. The video was titled “tango lesson”. Oh come on, how can you learn to tango by watching a video? By watching a performance video? By watching a video taken in a tango lesson without verbal instruction and emphases? By watching a video that does not show how leaders lead by their chest?
A guy, whose name I do not want to reveal because he does not read my blog anyway, started learn how to tango several months ago. I like his enthusiasm but I do not like to dance with him. He gives no connection at all and thus hard to follow. I am fine with it because no matter what he is a beginner and I know how hard to be a leader in tango. What I cannot stand is the fact that he is teaching total beginners how to tango. I mean, are you kidding me? This person should take beginner lessons all over again himself.
This kind of things really annoy me. The Chinese saying is 誤人子弟 (Wrong education to others’ children), which is unethical. No wonder why most total beginners do not come back for more advanced lessons or are not triggered for more interest in tango.
There are of course bad followers too as I am learning how to be a leader. Dancing with different followers, I recognize how a bad follower can be. A gal, whose name I do not want to reveal for the same reason, always did something I did not lead her into. I was sure I did not change where my chest was facing, but she followed as turning and crossing her leg and maybe some more fancy stuff. Hush, woman. Listen to me, I am the leader.

I am not in love with politics. I think I will never be. Why? Because the ugly political environment in Taiwan. Ugly because many politics-unrelated issues can be soooo easily politicized. For example, evidence for “I love Taiwan” or against it. If the wife of Mr. President’s son does not have the baby in Taiwan, then it means that Mr. President will have a grandson who possesses double nationalities, or in other words, the grandson of Mr. President will be American. So what, I mean, really so what? It does not mean that this baby is not Taiwanese. It means, really, nothing. Nothing at all. Thousands of graduate students who study abroad also have a family in the country where they are studying. However, some stupid heads say “If she does not come back to Taiwan to have the child, then it means that she does not love Taiwan, meaning that her husband allows her to do that, meaning that her husband does not love Taiwan, meaning that Mr. President does not care whether his grandson is American, meaning that Mr. President does not love Taiwan, either.” Oh my god, what a crime. Poor the little wife is forced to get on the plane with an 8-month pregnant belly, flying home just to prevent her father-in-law from being judged as unpatriotic.
My reaction is WTF. Alright, Mr. President Chen has done something very wrong, and personally if I were in Taiwan during those days of the anti-bian movement, I might have donated my money and effort to ask for his resignation. Nevertheless, you cannot mix one issue with another. Not a single politician does not love Taiwan. All the social activities or movements are act of loving the country. The problem is that many simple behaviors are interpreted as being unpatriotic out of unreasonable reasons.
Well, politics in other countries are not better than Taiwan, either. By law, Americans who were not born in America cannot be the President. Give me a reason for this. The place one was born is so irrelevant.

I like wine and beer, especially when friends are educating me how to differentiate good from bad. But I cannot have much because I cannot digest alcohol. Yeah, this really sucks. It prevents me from having more than half a glass. It also prevents me from being drunk. Being drunk is not my fantasy anyway.
Car accidents are horrible. Judy’s mom got serious injured. Some undergrads in State College got killed.
Recently, several independent car accidents caused by DUI killed people. One case was that a drunk underage undergrad was almost killed by a drunk undergrad driver. The police was looking for the person who provided alcohol to the injured underage.
WTF again for me.
The person who provided alcohol to an 18-year-old adult is going to be punished. As if the 18-year-old had no brain or did not know the fact that he was not allowed to drink by law.
In Psychology experiments, we define a 18-year-old as an adult who can make his/her own decision, and therefore they can come to participate in our experiments without asking for their parents’ permission. In many legal practices, 18-year-olds are totally responsible for themselves.
How come drinking is so restricted? If something is taboo, something will happen even more often or to a more unreasonable degree.
For example, pornography is not legal in Taiwan but everyone that I know in Taiwan has seen it. Yes, me too. Everyone talks about it without a second thought in most casual social settings. Here in the States, porn is legal, but no one talks about it (perhaps Pennsylvania is not very liberal, but a college town usually is considered very liberal. So you can imagine how conservative it can be in most areas of America). Asian culture in general does not encourage sexual things in any contexts, but we are not afraid of talking about it or having intimate physical contacts in a supposed-to-be-sexy situation like dancing tango. Asians and Europeans drink various alcohols in various events, including family, friends, formal, and informal. It is not a taboo, and we are not crazy about getting wasted as being fun. Why do some young Americans set getting drunk as the goal of drinking?
Setting 21-yr-old as the legal age to drink is just amazing and puzzling for me. They waited and waited, and finally they are allowed to drink, and they lose control. They do not know how to appreciate high-quality alcohol or how to appreciate a party by being sober.

“There is not a country that is not partially fucked up.” Marc said. France has problems too. By law, a worker cannot work more than 35 hours a week, and the minimum salary is about 8 euro per hour. No wonder their industry is not able to catch up with many developed countries.
Many policies in different countries have been overdone.
Germany, according to Zabeth, has problems too. A new wave of racism is starting from the young generation. It is like a new version of Nazi that being blonde and blue-eyed is superior to others. Who on earth started this narrow-minded and totally illogical idea? Sophie is worried if Bryan can live in Germany because he looks too Mexican.

Having lived for one more year means that I have known something more and something new, and the result is I have become more and more judgmental. The things that I do feel happy about are things so purely joyful.

I like the air after snowing.
I like the tears when watching a great movie.
I like the sweat after practicing yoga.
I like the laughter when Marc & Zabeth hear my baby voice.
The 26th year of my life is going to pass. Thank you, mama, for giving me such a great life.
Thank you, all my dear friends, for enriching my life.
Thank you, all the annoying incidents around me and around the world, for letting me know myself even better.
Yes, I am judgmental.