When “No, no, no,” Can Mean “Yes, yes, yes”
I went to Taichung, Taiwan in 1990 with the hope of teaching English. I found many opportunities to teach and lived with a family.
I learned that “No, no, no” can mean “Yes, yes, yes.” Mama Chen had clearly told me “No, no, no money” when I told her I’d like to pay for staying at her home. But Emily’s friend Nancy spoke to me in private and told me that the family doesn’t understand why I don’t express my gratitude for living in their home. I told her that Mama Chen had emphatically said, “no money,” so I bought fruit (which is incredibly expensive here) for the family, gave Theresa English lessons, and did other things that I thought would show my gratitude.
Nancy gave me a lesson in Chinese culture. She said I must offer money, but, of course, they will refuse it. That is my cue to insist they take the money. So, I tried what she told me. I gave Emily what I had heard from other foreigners they were paying for rent. She refused to take it. It felt strange to me, but I insisted as best I could. She eventually relented, saying that it would help to pay for the gas cylinder that they had to buy to give me hot water in my bathroom. Curiously, Emily had earlier offered to pay me for Theresa’s English lessons at the going rate of $14 an hour. I had said, “no,” and it was never mentioned again.
Although happier than China, Taiwanese live under many clouds of uncertainty. It is a troubled country in transition. The Taiwanese are frightened of being invaded by mainland China, and they are frightened by the political turmoil inside their own political system. There is an atmosphere of readiness to flee. Taiwanese who are rich enough hold passports in other countries, and many have bought homes in other countries as well. One person told me that he wouldn’t even have to take a toothbrush if he fled from an attack by China. “There is no country spirit,” was the way one foreigner with three years of tenure in Taiwan put it.
One of my tutoring students and her husband took me out to dinner at the Taichung Hotel. They are very rich and told me they own three houses in Taipei and one in Taichung, Hualien, Los Angeles, and New Zealand. The husband will continue to run his business in Taiwan while his wife and three sons live in New Zealand. He will visit them every couple of months.
He said he wanted his sons to be educated in the westernized system of New Zealand rather than the strictness of Chinese schools. Because of his wealth, New Zealand was willing to give them New Zealand passports, which made them feel more secure in case Taiwan is attacked by China.
Being separated like that sounds awful to me, but many Chinese and Taiwanese are ready to do it. That reminded me of a Chinese woman I had met who had lived away from her husband and six-year-old son for five of the child’s six years.
Too bad starving for mail does not make one thin. I would be down to a wisp! One letter from the U.S. took eight days to reach me, and another took 20 days!!
Tags: Taichung, Taiwan; teaching in Taiwan; Taiwanese culture, Travel
