Renting in Taiwan, and surprises thrown in your face

3 days away from flying to Taiwan, Ah Wan told me I can't stay at her parents' apartment, which is located near the school. She was unhappy about the whole affair, especially after having gone through an earlier bad experience of ordering, paying for, but having the stock run out for a pair of boots she bidded for online. I suspect she felt bad, because before that piece of news, we were planning as to how we can make her parents' then-vacant apartment more live-able. Thought of getting a TV, bringing woolen blankets and her stereo system from Taitung, maybe purchase a dehumidifier. And all that changed in the blink of an eye when someone wanted to view and potentially rent the house long-term.

I have no stake in and no claim upon that any period of stay in that apartment, but my initial reaction was that it was too much a surprise, and it shouldn't have happened. But intuitively I knew it would be fine. In my hours awake after receiving the news (and this extends to even the earlier half of today) I told myself that all would turn out to be fine. After all, couldn't I go do my walking now? But, guess what? Ah Wan was pissed at that. She complained that I was fickle and that all these different ideas makes it difficult for her to know if she should continue to help me look for a place. I think because I was so bothered about her irritation that I couldn't sleep till 4am. I had this before, but not because of something on my mind. I tried Buddhist chants, which usually prepare me very very well for my sleep. I went downstairs to walk, and deposit some cash. Nothing worked.

Anyway, this morning I took some time and found a place that I am still uncertain about, largely because it is in close proximity (slightly more than 30m, but blocked by about 7 units, and 7 floors off the ground) to the railway tracks. Seems like, though, Ah Wan thinks it will be fine.

And, why did I put in this post? Well, I'm glad, despite having to spend extra money and precious time just before my all-important, pass-or-fail-my-degree examinations, I got a taste of what it is like to settle outside of home. Staying at home leaves many many things taken care of. THAT'S A LUXURY. Looking for a home (at least somewhere to call home for two months) outside my residence of years is a very good experience. It is difficult. It takes time. Life takes time to even maintain, not to say earn and prosper. And, in a very odd way, I am doing what I wanted to achieve in Singapore - move out. Not so that I disconnect from my parents, but to actually account for and attempt to maintain my life. So that, when the time comes, I won't go hungry and dirty, or otherwise down and out,when circumstances are less than ideal.

On my first attempt at translation

By the grace of 何老師, I got some comments on my virgin attempt at doing some Chinese-to-English translation. I had some good stuff, like how I was aware of some of my problems ("how do I translate that accurately?!?") and that I was translating into the language I am more familiar with and confident in. There are, of course, lots to improve on.

1. While I am happy translating into English, my mastery of the Chinese Language will determine, to a large extent, what I understand of the text, and thus the quality of my translation. This will be a multi-year (and perhaps lifelong) project to improve my CL.

2. Key terms. Not fully understanding the meaning of certain key ideas or terminology in the source text can drastically affect how I understand parts of the original piece. Here is understood 偏鄉 as 偏向鄉村（的地方）while 何老師 said that, in his understanding, it means 偏僻，偏遠的鄉下。This in itself changes how we view the extent and reasons behind certain disadvantages the children feel.

3. Imagery. 何老師 tends towards spending a lot of time imagining and visualising the narration in the text. A key example would be 一盞燈 in 每個孩子的生命裏至少需要一盞燈。Truth is, I found this term and line extremely difficult to translate, and my attempt left me less than satisfied for I tried to literally talk about a lamp/light. 何老師 asked me what I imagined the light to be like, in my mind - confessing that translation drains his time and energy because he spends much time visualising such lines/chapters/parts before attempting to translate them. I told him that I saw something like a candle light, a weak glow in a yesteryear lamp. And it occurred to me then that, to an English readership, I should be talking about a glimmer of hope, rather than the light/lamp imagery!

4. Tone. I used overly formal/academic words in translating some stuff. For example, 智商會比臺北的學生低嗎 was translated as "Look, compared to those in Taipei, are the students in the countryside intellectually challenged?" 何老師 reflected that, given the nature of the piece, that it was a speech that was quite informal and off-the-top of the speaker's mind, I should have gone for a more tone-apt way of phrasing "intellectually challenged" -- 老師 suggested "...not as smart?" This comment opened my eyes to, yet again, my inclination to overly intellectualise and complexify things. To 老師 it is very simple. Since the text called for a direct of way-of-speech, then translation should avoid affecting that "feel" of that work.

For the first time, I feel like I am being coached in something. And 何老師 is more than any student can ask for. Gentle with his words, unassuming, but very thoughtful and full of insights. Thank you so much, my dear teacher, guide and friend! (ok, this is not very fair, I have another mentor that...I should devote another post to)