I am focusing on the maintenance of Chinese by returned missionaries, and would like to ask you to complete the following survey. The results of our study will be reported April 30th at the Fourth International Symposium on Bilingualism in Tempe, Arizona.
I am working on a project investigating the factors which influence the loss and maintenance of mission languages.
Please read on, and feel free to help Karri out in her studies.Īloha! My name is Karri Lam, and I am a junior studying Linguistics at Brigham Young University Hawaii Campus. Returned Missionary Language Retention Study If any returned missionaries are familiar with this desirable shui jiao dipping sauce, please contact me. I am trying to find the recipe for captain sause. If anyone has any information on where they are, please let me know. I have tried to contact them at their previous phone number and the number has been disconnected. The mom's name is Ru Geng Yu Ming, she has two kids, both members. I am trying to find a member family from the Taoyuan 3rd ward.
A precarious task on sidewalks seemingly designed to be slippery.Taiwan Taipei Mission Alumni - 台灣台北返鄉傳教士首頁ĭisplaying 161 - 180 of 186 - Add Message help finding someone Without one, they will be forced to dart from overhang to overhang on their way to the subway station. His athletes begin scrounging around for umbrellas. The instructor announces that his students can hang out for a bit longer, but at some point today, he’ll need to eat something. A Slippery Journey HomeĪbout twenty minutes pass, and the rain shows no sign of abating. But like so many risks, it is one some Jiu Jiteros take for the sport. In sum, an unsupervised dehumidifier enclosed in a closet with dry fabric is a fire hazard. What he fails to mention is dehumidifiers-an appliance as ubiquitous in Taiwan as deck-top BBQ grills are to Midwestern America-can start fires when run for too long or in confined spaces. He holds up a kimono that is beyond ratty, resembling something akin to a pirate costume. “That’s what I do, bro! Check it out, my sh*t is always dry”. It will be dry in hours” quips a purple belt. “Bro, put your wet GIs in a wardrobe with a dehumidifier. Others show up to practice with wet kimonos, smelling of either mildew or laundry detergent. Some athletes run a length of dried bamboo through the sleeves and leave it on a covered section of rooftop.
Even the most diligent neat-freak will find carefully hung kimonos damp days after they’ve been put out. As a rule, local athletes have several GIs and a pile of rash-guards. Most Taiwanese houses don’t have dryers, making the washing of Jiu-Jitsu gear particularly arduous in the near-constant humidity. I left my laundry on the balcony, I’ll have to rewash it when I get home.” The bathroom door swings open, and with a burst of steam emerges a Taiwanese-American man in his late 30s. “Why does it always rain when it’s time to go home! How annoying!” one says in Chinese. Now, the drum of rain on concrete and rain on sheet metal drowns out all but the muffled voices of a few female colored belts. A mixture of hip-hop, dad-rock, and early 2000’s scream-o masked the sound of heavy breathing and strain. Ten minutes before, the skies were blue, sun was pouring in through the windows, and a diverse group of athletes were rolling. It’s only several minutes into the downpour and there is already several centimeters of water in the alley. They aren’t hookers, but they definitely work for their money.
Outside the gym, women with bad tattoos in short black skirts huddle under umbrellas smoking cigarettes. This dojo is named after a punk song and is located near one of Taipei’s two red-light districts.
Outside the storefront academy’s floor-to-ceiling windows it looks like God is trying to wash away the neighborhood’s sins. “At least I hadn’t showered and headed to the metro…Igor must be kicking himself.” “Well, looks like we’ll be hanging out here for a while” laments a blue belt expatriate. But then…people in American dojos don’t run around shouting “April Showers, April Showers!” when torrential rain strikes after an otherwise lovely training session. The tradition can be compared to the adage “ April showers bring May flowers”. Named after a Chinese folk belief, it is said that the yellowing of plums south of the Yangtze River is caused by evaporation, and this results in rain. Spanning approximately 50 days in late spring, plum rain is a season unique to East Asia. They have plastic shoes or flip-flops-this is Taipei, after all. “I don’t wear anything to Jiu-Jitsu that I’m afraid to get wet” is a common refrain.