全球暖化

你現在看到的是我家的天窗，從早上八點半開始，也就是我發動引擎離開 Hoboken 的時候，開始下雪，進辦公室不到一個小時，人事部發佈消息，要大家下午一點前離開。
我可是雪中老匠啊，早上出門前看著細細的落雪，想著昨天氣象預報不停說今天會下濕溼答答不乾不脆的雪中雨，就在猶豫到底要不要冒險，可是為了表現敬業，為了當研究助理們的好榜樣，我穿上雪靴，一拐一拐的出門了.... 一拐一拐是因為我的腳後跟受了笨傷，知道我的人見識過我隨便走走乾淨平地都可以扭傷腳踝，這腳後跟笨傷是前天關公寓柵門的時候，被柵門底刮下一層皮，血流難止了一個晚上。現在不穿鞋還沒什麼感覺，但是穿著靴子可是很痛的。誰叫我腿長呢 :(
總之，我抵達研究中心小丘底的時候，雪落下的速度已經快過鏟雪車能應付的局面了，當下決定不開上山丘頂，雖然研究人員必須要停在山丘頂，但是想到兩年前打滑的慘痛經驗，我決定停在醫院入口，反正今天醫院的警衛不會閒到來開我單。

小心翼翼到家的時候，雪已經下了超過五個小時了，天窗外是圓頂玻璃的，如果只是一點點雪，是會滑落的，如今雪都積的看不到天了。現在算算，是超過七個小時了。一點都沒有停歇的跡象，反而越下越大。
我個人認為是因為我前幾天擦車。我不是很常擦車的，因為幫幫停在路邊，每天要越過一個工業區帶我去上班，他是經常蒙著灰塵，不過因為是金屬光澤的寶藍色，又有可愛的笑臉，很少人看到他就立刻說 "怎麼這麼髒啊" ，通常是說 "我好愛你的車子喔" (然後我說 "我也是")。
我上一回擦車子，不到一天，就下雨了。我那次只擦了一遍，沒有很仔細。
我這回擦車子，因為在 Kimberly 家後院，我自在的悠閒的仔細的擦了三遍，並沒有很乾淨很乾淨，但是我已經不錯自豪了。三天不到，好了吧，下大雪。於是又再驗証一次：洗車祈雨的神奇效果，而且冬天可是會祈到雪的。
科學家說這是全球暖化的關係，笨美國保守人士不這麼認為，一直在罵 "全球暖化" 是個謬論。
好吧，你說啊，不是因為全球暖化，那是因為什麼呢？今天冬天的雪也未免太頻繁了吧，我已經不在賓州了，怎麼冬天還這麼長這麼濕呢？
全球暖化的重點是 "全球" 不是美國，暖化的現象並不是說冬天就消失了，而是這是一個怎樣的冬天，而且未來的冬天會怎麼樣。小時候大家都學過的啊，暖空氣容易帶水氣，這幾場大雪就是暖空氣帶了過多水氣造成的。另一個大重點是：暖化是一個氣候的變化，不是天氣的變化。就好像憂鬱症跟憂鬱是不一樣的。

還是不願意相信全球暖化，也不願意說為什麼不相信？美國保守人士很信奇蹟的，也很信沒有科學基礎的選擇性抽樣。那就怪我擦車擦得太仔細了吧。
都怪我吧。在夏天來之前，幫幫都要髒髒的了。

Feb 26, 2010 早上，這一幕讓我決定待在家裡望著雪景，寫我的稿子，讀我的期刊報告。

雪裡有霜也有炭

從墨西哥回來的一個禮拜之內下了兩場雪, 整個就是跟墨西哥海岸的沙灘陽光是天壤之別.
美國的氣象都很準, 禮拜二一早大家就人心惶惶, 果然禮拜二下午很多公司學校機關就宣佈禮拜三修身養息好好冬眠.
也還好有放假, 不然我的研究計畫還真的很難審過改完, 禮拜三我整整在家工作了十二小時, 看著外面的積雪越來越厚, 祈禱第二天一定要放晴, 不然計畫寄不出去我一定會哭的.
也還好放了一天雪假, 台北家裡吵吵鬧鬧有人生病有人生氣, 我隔空安撫, 有點內外夾攻的感覺, 但也算是寫研究計畫之外的小小調劑, 雖然不是很正面, 卻也讓我感覺我跟台北沒有脫節. 親情果然是偉大的.
雪假的隔天, 天空大放晴, 我付了美金十五元讓人把幫幫挖出路邊, 研究計畫幾乎就緒, 我老闆卻在過了下午五點鐘之後才把一份重要的文件給我... 所以我一定要禮拜五才能完成寄送研究計畫申請的手續. 美國聯邦的研究計畫申請一定要研究機構的某一個人才能做寄送的手續, 計畫主持人不等同於計畫申請人. 所以我要等到人家上班時間才能請人家(研究經費辦公室經理) 幫我完成寄送的手續.
依舊一夜未好眠的睡了一覺...
班比老是朝笑我怎麼都能睡著, 隔壁 pub 的超強重低音之下我也可以準時在午夜前閉上眼睛遁入夢境. 但是夢境有分好壞的, 我經常夢見我在準備大學聯考或是研究所入學考, 身邊的同學卻又幾乎是國中同學甚至是大學同學, 我總是莫名奇妙的害怕國文歷史地理, 我覺得我一定會考不好... 卻又似乎很清醒的知道我早就過了大學聯考的年紀, 我連博士都拿到了, 國文歷史地理是我現在的弱點, 小時候我可是很不錯厲害的... 一定是班比經常嘲笑我的關係... 當我在夢裡提醒我自己現實是如何的時候, 我就醒了. 翻個身, 或許又睡著了, 卻可以重複惹人厭的夢, 不是在吵架就是在擔心. 然後鬧鐘響的時候, 覺得我一夜無眠, 腰酸脖子痛, 睡得好累.

禮拜五早上, 計畫送出去的那一刻, 我深切感覺到什麼叫做如釋重負. 我覺得我可以眼睛一閉就睡著. 實驗室經理說我應該要早點下班去輕鬆輕鬆. 但是因為寫這個研究計畫的關係,已經積了很多事情要處理, 尤其是耗時耗力不耗腦細胞的事情, 所以我留下來做完我該做的事. 沒想到四點鐘不到, 整個實驗是只剩下我一個人.
大家都要去過長周末囉. 以前我在賓州的時候, 總統節是沒有假可以放的, 紐澤西和紐約倒是有節就放, 這回剛好遇到中國年和情人節.
我興高采烈回家除舊佈新, 結果八點不到我就在床上昏倒了... 還自以為有精神可以去跳舞呢.

過年是什麼感覺?
上一回在台灣過年是 2002 年, 上一回很認真的在家過年是... 也是 2002 年. 因為很麻煩啊, 又不一定會遇到放假.
這次我有廚房我有客廳, 我還有廚子！買應景菜又算是方便, 於是就決定盛大的在大年初一辦個中國年 dinner party. 計畫是我們先盛大的買菜, 然後班比盛大的下廚, 我再盛大的洗碗.

班比在廚房站了一整天滷牛腱牛肚豬腳蘿菠, 我在客廳努力找周星馳賀歲片. 香噴噴的肉味加上周星馳的國語配音就好有過年的感覺.
在班比細細切菜的同時, 我準備了十六小時的國語歌曲(一半是王菲的), 還有九十張過年應景喜氣洋洋的照片要在電視螢幕上反覆的播放, 準備晚上視聽的背景.
六個客人, 美國德國和日本人都吃的開心笑得大聲, 於是班比的客家湯圓就沒有白費, 元寶年糕都有吃到, 我的客廳突然有了今年冬天少有的溫暖 (我客廳的暖氣可是很不暖啊).
不過我的酒量真的差, 一瓶 Sam Adams 啤酒, 和幾杯清酒, 我就紅通通站不直. 多虧班比懂事的妹妹和嘴賤心軟的阿雅, 不然我會洗碗洗到天亮.

今天禮拜二又下了大雪, 帥哥貼了王菲的新歌在我的牆上, 我心暖暖的.
或許我終於到了倦鳥的年紀, 要築自己的巢還真的不容易. 誰曉得明年的這個時候那些朋友還在不在身邊, 還在不在紐約.
我應該還是在寫研究計畫的申請案....

to travel to Mexico

As a person with a nationality that does not get her to travel to other nations easily, I have to apply for traveling visa almost every time I go somewhere.

So I went to the Mexico Office in Manhattan (Consulate General of Mexico in NY) on a Friday morning, 10 days before my trip to Acapulco, Mexico. The building on the 39th Street between Madison and Park looked cultural and quiet. I walked to the door which was locked with a sign written in Spanish. Is it a Mexican holiday? I thought. Then a person walked by and pointed to a side door and told me to go there. He simply walked by and saw me confused and offered me help with a smile. I thought, what a nice guy.
I entered the building through a glass door. The security gate was obviously not working, for random things were stacked between the gate and no one was standing by or walking through the gate. Therefore, I went on.
A person, who looked no more than 21 years old in a blue security uniform, stopped me and asked what I was going to do here. I told him my purpose, and he turned around, retrieving a number tag for me. There was a number typed on one side and another number hand-written on the other side. Before I said thankyou, he already started talking to another visitor, so I kept going.

The place was like a market, not a westernized supermarket, but a flee market or a what we Taiwanese called a traditional food market. People were everywhere. I did not see any sort of organization but I could feel an organization. I did not panic but I knew I needed to figure out what kind of organization was, and followed it.
A girl, who looked no more than 21 years old in a polo shirt with an ID tag, came to me and asked me what business I would like to do here. I told her, and she said "Go to the 3rd floor". I asked where the stairs were. She pointed the direction.

There were people standing or sitting on the way toward the stairs or on the stairs. I walked up one floor, and a young man in the security uniform was sitting on the mid-level through-way between floors. He saw me and smiled. He did not ask me questions.

On the third floor, rows of chairs filled the small space between cubicles and an office. A few people were waiting on the chairs. I tapped on one waiter's shoulder, "Are you waiting for the traveling visa application?" The Indian man said yes, "Just wait here, and she will come out and call your number." I sat down and wondered who "she" was.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, more people came to wait and asked whether they were in the right place. A young lady with a ponytail came out the office and called names. Another lady, middle aged, with a figure of a mother came out another room, which had an illuminated sign "EXIT" above the door, and called names too.
Now I was more ensured that things were moving forward, and soon my name would be called. But wait... how would they know my name? A person in the waiting line must have been wondering the same thing, and he went up to the office and asked. The answer was "I will call your number. Please wait."
So I waited. And according to the numbers being called later, I was sure it was the hand-written number on my tag would be called.

I was trying to read a student's paper. However, a couple of Taiwanese were talking near me, and my speech recognition system was automatically listening to them. The girl was 25, and the guy was in his early 30s. The guy worked in a software company, trading things with China. The girl had worked in a Japanese company in Japan, went back to Taiwan for some time, and now came to the US for learning English. However, her English sounded much better than the guy's. They exchanged information that I would classified as basic information as if this was their first date. I hoped not.
Slowly, I reviewed the most part of the paper, and the couple were finished up with their application and paperwork. They left. I was relieved that I could enjoy my quiet waiting time. Then a middle-aged man initiated conversation with me. He was a shoe maker from Brazil. I did not know that people from South America had to apply for travel visa to Mexico, and I did not realize that Mexico was in North America.
We chatted until number 11 was called. I immediately stood up and told the ponytail lady that my number was 10 and had not been called. She welcomed me to her office while number 11 was sitting there. Ponytail took all my paperwork and asked me to wait outside. She was polite and nice, so I was polite and nice and waited.

The mother lady came out too and asked my number, and I told her the situation. She went to Ponytail and took my things and asked me to the EXIT room, which was actually a nicer office with an entire wall of windows.
"Mother" reviewed my documents and decided that I was well prepared, and she suggested me to get a 10-year visa. "I have your bank statements, credit card bills, paycheck receipts, and your offer letter. Oh, do you want to make a copy of the offer letter and paycheck receipts? I think they are very personal and you should only give me a copy and you keep the original."

So I went downstairs to make copies. The place was still like a market. Men and women and children were everywhere. I waited in line for the copy machine and was proud of myself that I found some implicit order in this culture. Hey, there was no sign for the line of the machine. The lady operating the machine nicely asked me how I would like to make the copies. She did what I said, and I returned to the 3rd floor.
After handing in the document copies, my picture was taken and my finger prints were captured. I got a ten-year travel visa to Mexico.

On the day of the departure, everyone except me checked in via a machine by themselves. I could not do it because I am not American or holding a green card. So I waited in line for a person to come over and make sure that I had the visa. He went "When are you coming back to the US? They gave you ten years?" and laughed a bit.
Before I was allowed to get on to the plane, a person was looking at my passport and confused. She never saw a Mexico travel visa. So an older guy came and told her that I was alright and let me get on the plane.
When I arrived in Mexico, most people went through the customs point very easily with a nice and loud sound of stamping on their passports. I was stopped for 10 minutes because the officer did not know what to do with my travel visa. Two other officers came and helped her. She was smiling at me all the time when looking at me. It was the same humble warm smile that I had experienced again and again when I was helped to the entrance to the Consulate General of Mexico in NY.

I did not feel very bothered by the whole thing even though much time was spent in waiting.
Honestly, all the Mexicans involved in my trivial visa story were so nice. They treated me as a good-natured human being. They did not question me or my visa. They talked to each other in Spanish and smiled at me. They did not make me feel that I was waiting for an insult or a harassment. So I smiled back and was patient, and here I am in Acapulco, Mexico.

Cheers.