Down and Out

These are things, at the faintest, that I can remember of my summers in Taiwan at the age of 6 or 7. We are spending the day with my aunt, who is married to my father's brother. I remember an apartment building where we eat a sweet gelatin drink that has a lemon flavor. My cousin and I buy matching Felix the Cat swimsuits. At the beach, we have to wear swimming caps. I only remember this because of photographs. Later, auntie takes us to her family's house, where the grass is very green and we eat tapioca pearls. In chinese, they are nicknamed frog eggs and since these are a bit undercooked - or overcooked, you can taste the powdery center, and I believe I have eaten real frog eggs! It makes me sad, since my mother's father always had a bunch of frog eggs in his pond and fountain that grow into tadpoles we try to catch with our squirmy little hands in Buena Park, California.

Another time, we spend the day at hot baths in the mountains. Megan, Wunyieh, and I are sitting in the bathtub. Megan is little, and too young to swim. My mother was watching over us, playing in the bath and she steps up to leave as my grandmother says she will watch us. Then she leaves, and my mother comes in again. She asks me, "Where did Megan go?". I remember telling her "She went to look at the fish". Megan was actually underwater, and almost drowned that day. On the drive back to Pittsburgh, my mother recounts the story to me again, and this time I realize how scared she was.

And there I was, talking about the fish.