Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Alien registration form

It's 11:54 and they are serving number 696.
The ticket in my skirt pocket says 817. When I got to the immigration agency a half hour ago, they were serving 687. So, this might be awhile. We're all in one room, waiting in front of 15 different counters, sweating, marinating. I didn't know which forms to fill out and I didn't want to get to the counter in five hours and have the wrong one. So I filled them all. We all watch a Caucasian guy wander through the crowd. Tina says that Western men are mauled by women. If Sean comes to visit, he would be my Trophy White.
12:03. Serving number 699.
At the post office, the clerk made me write my Chinese name over and over until I got it right while filling out an application for a bank card. "Oh my God, this is like school!"
I know. I'm drawing the stick figures of Chinese characters here.
Tina and I were walking back to her apartment yesterday and I walked into a cloud of stink. I thought it was garbage or sewage. Tina tells me that it is Taiwan's infamous stinky tofu so I turned around for a better whiff. I gagged and told her that it smelled like dirty privates. Wow. I did not know that stink could have so many layers.

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