The Soybean Juice Kerfuffle.

Today, unknown to me, I would cause a bifurcation point in someone's day. Perhaps such a claim is  arrogant of me to assume; feigning that I actually have importance upon others reality tunnel. I can conservatively state though, that I caused a moment of hilarity, embarrassment, and upset - a startled reaction that surprised me enough to write about it. We've all had such blunders, in reality or within the dream-world and, as the reporter, I thought it would make a fun story to read.


Being a white-skinned person in Taiwan usually results in attention. Whether positive or negative, looking different, causing people to gawk or stare, is certainly an experience I never expected to have while growing up in a small, mainly white, town in Oregon. Although China relentlessly reminded us that we were “different”, the feeling quickly fades upon returning to the white masses. Back in the East, I feel like a movie star. The other day, three old women insisted on taking pictures with me. So I took the pictures and departed to their gracious waves and smiles. Definitely ego boosting! If you ever feel unattractive, simply visit the East to immediately feel radiant. Perhaps I should patent the idea and, after obtaining a degree in psychology, prescribe week-long trips to remote areas of the East. 


Back to today though. A vegetarian breakfast spot recently reopened after a mysterious hiatus and we decided to checked it out. A plethora of veggie restaurants litter the city and provide ample variety of cooking methods. (I used the term "cooking methods" because the food is all Taiwanese food) Sadly though, no real “late-night” restaurant exist; this is one major downside to being in a more “rural” community. Breakfast shops abound and we are on a mission to find the best joint in town. A delicious adventure! Opening at 5 am, this shop offers an early - super early - morning option. Purchasing a breakfast sandwich and fan tuan for our hike on Thursday, we were happy enough to return to the spot. Not the best food for sure, but enough to warrant another go. Amazingly, five people work at this shop. Unless they are significantly busier early on, how they could support more than two employees baffles me. But with less than a two percent unemployment rate in Taiwan, I guess I shouldn't judge a country where almost every retailer seems over staffed. Three super old ladies, a guy, and a cute girl work there. When leaving the place yesterday, the girl looked up and I flashed her a peace gesture (index and middle finger extended while the others withdrawn inward, the palm of the hand facing out. This distinction obviously shows it isn't the European “Fuck you” sign. Perhaps I didn't need to describe this gesture, you all know my meaning. Peace signs or smiles  emanate from me like a sex crazed demon.) Lots of pretty girls smile and laugh when receiving the attention. They begin jabbering to their friends about something and pointing my way. Arrogantly, I assume it isn't, “Look at the nerve of that funny looking white guy.” From what I surmise, this, fortunately, isn't the case. This girl obviously saw the sign and bashfully looked down while smiling and playing with her hair. Ha!


Friday morning, pissing rain caused our gold panning plans to be called off. Errands needed to be ran and we decided to give the place further patronage while out and about. After ordering our food, we sat down and began eating. Coming out of the back, this girl looked shocked by our presence and hurriedly passed. Although she attempted to occupy herself, various indications clued us in that we were noticed: playing with the hair, quick glances, bashful type movements, etc. It is possible that her glances over were simply because white folks don't frequent the shop. Future events, however, would soon manumit this thought and prove that notion false.


Once our meal was finished, we looked around for a place to put our dishes and toss our napkins. There wasn't a place in sight and so I walked over to her to ask where we should put our stuff. Earlier, she began drinking a cup of soybean juice and was still sipping it when I approached.

Since her back was slightly turned, I called to her, “Excuse me Miss.” Catching me out of the corner of her eye, she twirled quickly. Pivoting amazingly fast she found herself off balance and nearly toppled over.

During this time I continued my question since only a moment had transpired. “Where should I put these?”


At this point, her head cocked slightly to the side in a quizzical expression, unable to comprehend my meaning, while still trying to gain some bearing. However, with her balance still compromised, she stumbled and fumble-fucked the cup of juice between both hands, unable to regain control. In the fumbling process, she spilled milk all over herself and floor, the straw came flying out of the drink, and, at the last possible moment, she caught herself from falling and managed to save the remnants of her drink before it completely catapulted out of her hands.

This moment came and went within a few seconds and the girl looked horrified. She immediately dropped her eyes and head, defeated.

Dramatized by stories of high school dramas, bad dreams of public nakedness, tripping in public, passing gas in public, falling while on stage, asking people out on a date and completely botching it, and making that one mistake resulting in a blunder of mammoth proportions, social pressure and conditioning causes one to be apprehensive about making blatant, ungraceful, mistakes.  Several occasions readily pop up in my mind of my own mishaps.

She quickly shuffled away to a nearby sink attempting to clean off her clothes and hands. I stooped down to retrieve the straw drowning in white juice and added it to my trash pile. Although I hadn't intended to startle her, I still felt bad about the situation. Dark skin generally hides the bright-red checks of embarrassment; however, the shocked and jerky expressions exhibited are universal. She was not happy with the public display of imperfection. Dacota attempted to ask her where to put our stuff, and it took her several takes, and gestures, for her to regain enough composure to point towards the trash can and wash sink around the corner. She mumbled her response and wouldn't make eye contact.


Mounting the scooter and taking off, I once again flashed her a peace sign, causing her to smile, look down, and once again start play with her hair. With luck, this simple gesture will cause this “moment of upset” to be forgotten or, better yet, laughed at when recited to friends.