2016年4月23日 星期六

2016.04.23 The Correct Answer of a Garden

這是ESL閱讀寫作課程中的第一個Essay作業,原本要寫Argumentative的文章,不過因為我寫歪了(很顯然的沒有兩面論證),老師(Kevin Brown)就讓我自由發揮去了哈哈哈哈

(2016.05.03)老師幫我修改過第一次了♥ PO上修正版XD

The correct answer of a garden

Aphids are gnawing the fragile back side of artichokes leaves, their honeydew has attracted hundreds of thousands of ants to protect them from being eaten by the ladybugs which had been released in the garden for the sake of eliminating the aphids. The artichoke babies suffer from the unwelcome six-legged guests, tortured by invisible tiny wounds. Lizards are helping the artichokes to get rid of the pests, but apparently an anteater is all that is needed. The spray bottle’s tube had been clogged by the ashes from the fireplace, although they say ash water spray is the most harmless to the plants and the most natural way to expel aphids, I have no choice but to use the dishwashing liquid water to kill the aphids and ants. The white bubbles left on the leaves are awkwardly reflecting the sunshine. Now they smell like pale and shiny dining plates but no longer fresh dirt and sun. Beside the artichokes sit the sage and the green onions. They are blooming this year, without any reason and any sign; blooming so desperately as if they are compensating for their amnesia. They forgot to flower for the last 2 years. I am like a clown in the crowds, waving weakly and doing meaningless tricks; still no one sees me. I struggle to make my garden perfect, but nature never buys it. The journey of seeking the correct answer of a garden continues.

Our culture and family started to fertilize the soil in the garden with legends and traditions. Dumped with all the other’s opinions and suggestions, the garden is far away from growing anything yet. Eventually it decomposed and converted into soil, our self-identification. This process comes so easily that we normally ignore it. In the rest of our life, we grow different sentiments and ideas from various plants, we fertilize our soil by absorbing new knowledge, digesting contrasting points of view and defending our personal values. The pain of reforming our mind, our garden, becomes so intolerable. All our precious herbs die to protest their discomfort, the soil we had cautiously kept turns into waste in a totally different climate system. We are helpless in a nowhere that used to be our secret paradise.

 The massacre starts with a foreign language. The fruits of English have no clue to bear from the soil which was irrigated by an oriental culture. The power that our native language possesses is profounder than we can imagine. All our small memories fragments are in morpheme units. Each phoneme of our native language recall the tears of joy, the warmth of hugs, the scent of the numbness of a special dish. How can we abandon our own stories and embrace meaningless syllables? However, for the sake of blending in, we remove the surface of who we are, replacing it with new earth that we hastily swallowed from the new culture. Still the fruits grow slightly awkward, the leaves of the plant wrinkle and the flower blooms in totally different color. Upset by the result, we sigh, we frown, it is the millionth time we want to give up.

The alphabets which spread in the book are ants in panic. Trying to escape from pages to bite my finger, they twist and twitch, until it is to cruel to look at, I close the book. I can still hear their silent screaming in the book, it echoes in my hollow head. Unreadable alphabets! How can a language live without characters!

And we become the outsider, we think we will never fit in this new house which is to be home. The thing is never right; how can we keep wearing shoes when we enter our house? The others never take our opinion seriously because of our crippled ; they think our own culture is a simple story that can be told in a 4 minute speech. We never fit in with their expectation. We go through all the magazine shelfs, searching for gardening guides, seizing any chance to learn the correct answer. The correct answer of the fertilizer, of the garden, of our life. We want to be perfect in our new homeland. And we lose the control of our garden. The garden grows chaotic, every single effort that we made is the fume came out from chimney, vanish in the sunset of our hope. Not until we realize that we can never fit in the new environment will we stop chasing a correct answer.

So here I am, gazing at the spectacular but yet ordinary garden of my own. The refreshing breeze brought the scent of lavender planted by a neighbor. I love lavender, but I know it would not grow here, not for now.  A garden should not be written on a piece of paper. We are no longer planting roses while we are allergic to; the best-selling seeds of violet is no longer attractive to us. I know that even though I plant the exact same species of lavender, they will grow very different from my neighbor’s lavender. We finally make an agreement with ourselves. No more changing, no more forcing, let it be. Embracing the dirt of our homeland, we are who we are with all the variant curve on our bones, knit in our spine. The answer of a garden is to see the beauty of seasons changing, to grieve the plant withering, to taste the sourness of fruit and to celebrate the new start of life. We are learning but not copying. We are so close to the answers; therefore we can never see them.

Teacher's comment after first read:

Your writing has literary quality that is near publishable at the highest level in English…my job is to help with academic writing which is unfortunately different from creative or literary writing.



Teacher's comment after second read:

Okay, this is publishable.  It is at the level of some of the finest writers: Thoreau, Proust, Rachel Carson.  I want you to make the edits in bold above and then send it to me again.  I’ll revise it once more and then I’d like to show it to some other teachers and suggest you submit it to some journals.  Have you thought of doing a creative writing program?  A master’s degree?  

只能說,被稱讚就是爽辣XD(???

2016年4月21日 星期四

2016.04.21 満月

所以說,事情要從4/12收到來自迪士尼的感謝信開始說起。

收到感謝信就是被拒絕的意思,毫無疑問的。

我先是麻木地沖了澡,然後,眼淚就開始不受控制的落下。

畢竟是孤注一擲來到這裡,壓了好多好多的壓力在自己身上。

原本以為掉過眼淚就好了,原本以為快要痊癒了,都已經經過了一個禮拜了呀!

但是今天去應徵Knott's Berry Farm的工讀生的時候,看到周邊商品的陳列,強烈的失落感就突然襲來。

「這裡不是我想工作的地方」的感受在我腦袋中不斷的迴盪,眼淚盈在眼中必須努力才能撐著不讓淚水落下。還不能哭!在面試前還不能哭!

面試結束後,回到車上,眼淚果然就不受控制的掉下來了。

「不是這裡。」「這裡不是樂園(paradise)。」「為什麼被拒絕?」

算是否定嗎?總之算不上正面的念頭在腦海中盤旋,眼淚也默默地落了兩三滴。


一整天的情緒都在掉淚的邊緣,聽到老師上課提到迪士尼、同學的手機播了花木蘭的歌,眼淚都快掉下來了。

寫作課的時候Essay提早寫完了,所以就抽了張衛生紙到長椅上哭。課程結束後,打電話給思思,眼淚終於潰堤。是那種哭得聲嘶力竭,用力到沒有聲音的哭。米琦(一位中國同學)看到我哭得厲害,坐在旁邊陪我。

走回去的路上,第一次跟米琦用中文聊天,之前都有奇怪的默契用英文聊天。美麗又可愛的女孩紙。

今天是滿月,很漂亮的滿月。

不會輸的,哪裡跌倒就哪裡站起來!就算是渾身是傷也要跑到終點!

最後來一首很適合今天的fight song--ミカヅキ(作詞作曲:さユり)



節錄歌詞:

今宵も頭上では 綺麗な満月がキラキラ 幸せそうに世界を照らしている 当の私は 出来損ないでどうしようも無くて 夜明け夢見ては 地べた這いずり回ってる それでも 誰かに見つけて欲しくて 夜空見上げて叫んでいる 逃げ出したいなぁ 逃げ出せない 明るい未来は見えない ねぇ それでも あなたに見つけて欲しくて 蝶のように舞い上がるの 欠けた翼で飛んだ 醜い星の子ミカヅキ


不會輕易放棄的,絕對!


2016年4月2日 星期六

2016.04.02 打個方向燈手都會骨折的南加州人


  標題有點長,不過這是我這兩天開車下來後,簡短的心得(?)

南加人開車的壞習慣惡名昭彰,原本以為沒有傳說中的那麼糟,畢竟沒有台灣瘋狂的機車騎士在那邊鑽來鑽去。到了南加州,路上確實是沒有瘋狂機車了。

BUT!人生中最機車的就是那個BUT!

請想像把所有的機車騎士都裝到車子裡,然後在路上開的樣子。

台灣的機車騎士在車陣中亂鑽就算了,畢竟他們車體小,有時候不在機車等紅燈區等紅燈反而還危險。

但是汽車不是機車啊南加州人!!!!所有任意切換車道不打方向燈完全無視安全距離的跟在你車子後方、限速是甚麼先加個10mile再說。各種惡劣的開車行徑,南加居民或許不是發明的,但一定是天降此大任於斯人也,違規技術之精湛,令人瞠目結舌。

偏偏加州的大眾交通運輸工具糟糕到一個不行,離開大學校園的生活圈,沒車真的就跟腳斷了一樣。噢,也是可以用走的,就走到腳斷阿捏。

也因為大眾交通工具系統讓人難以忍受,人人有車,讓高速公路塞的時速只有20英哩(32公里左右),甚至還可以完全停下來。尖峰時段是早上的七點到晚上九點(……乾!這不就是一整天嗎!),更別提公路上是各種補丁,郝斌斌真應該來選個州長,把南加路平一下。

所以在我鼓起勇氣租了車,上了路以後,見識到了更多的瘋狂南加人,以下就來列個南加人開車惡行惡狀大全,請各位看倌收好下巴慢慢觀賞。

1. 打個方向燈手都會骨折的南加人

  凡舉任何需要打方向燈的場合:等待左轉/右轉、切換車道、上交流道……,大概只有30%的駕駛會遵守規定。根據不同的場合,遵守率會不太一樣,等待左右轉約50%、切換車道約10%、上交流道約20%。

  尤其是切換車道!說不打就真的不打!突然間的就以超近的距離切到你面前!!!真的是很令人崩潰!!!!!!

2. 限速是什麼可以吃嗎?

  南加人很愛開快車,只要前面沒有車,油門催下去都不管時速飆到幾mile的,一口氣衝共好幾個十字路口都不減速,到下一個紅燈再來個華麗的急煞車☆

  經過十字路口都不稍微減速一下嗎!!!放個油門很難嘛!!!很難嘛!!!!!!!

3. 喇叭免費無限押到飽

  南加人沒事都可以鳴個喇叭,明明自己違規在先也是死押著喇叭不放,搞的駕駛人人神經緊繃、沒有做錯事也搞得好像眾矢之的。

4. 塞到很慢的高速公路

  甚至走一般道路還比較快,雖然也很塞。因為大眾交通運輸太糟,人人有車,導致從早到晚高速公路都很塞。塞的很慢的高速公路上充斥著任意切換車道(不打方向燈)、亂按喇叭的煩躁司機。在塞到不行的地方甚至可以整個停下來。其他州都只需要2~3道的車道,南加明明有4~5條車道,依舊塞到讓你崩潰。

以上是我到目前為止的崩潰心得,有多在補。

拜託不要多了

加州人!!!!!開好車很難嘛!!!!!!!!(崩潰)