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About 5 years ago, Aunt P started to take seriously the
process of becoming a
U.S.
citizen. She’d filed eons ago yet never
pursued it. As she visited us that
spring in 2002 and took a prime role in the engagement party P & I had, she
also began the journey to citizenship. At a glamorous 70+, this is no small undertaking.
Her husband, unimpressed. “If you wanted to be an American so bad, why didn’t you do this years
ago?!”
“Well, she retorted, years ago there was no Chen Shwe
Bien!”.
Indeed. Aunt P had always been a literal flag-waving patriot in
Taiwan
.
She’d
drag our tired, hung-over butts that had just crashed at 3am to get up at 5 am
on New Year’s day in
Taipei
to attend the flag-raising patriotic ceremony every year. As a child every visit to
Taiwan
I had
was punctuated with respectful, awed visits to the Sun Yat Sen and Chiang Kai
Shek memorials.
At get –togethers she’d talk so glowingly and ceaselessly about
Taiwan
,
how great the food is, how wonderful the metro, the postal service, the
scenery, that mom and I would roll our eyes. It was like listening to a lovesick teenager. But the object of this devotion was a
country.
But as President* Chen took lead (I give him an asterisk
sort of like President * W. Bush since the legitimacy of either election is
highly questionable if not outright laughable), Aunt P had to watch the things
she loved erode away. Corruption scandals
exploded everywhere, replete with sex scandals to rival the British. Many of the efficient systems that kept the
country running smoothly were getting messier by the day. Safety nets gone, toxins everywhere, an
educational system and military system losing its quality control. Instead of being the powerhouse workhorses
that built the teeny isle into an international presence, Taiwan was now becoming a
nation of directionless spoiled brats seeking solace in tabloids, drugs, and shopping. Instead of actually trying to govern, the government spent its time
having public fistfights in the chambers and creating a hateful, racist,
divisive rift in the community.
One could see her set her jaw strongly, raise her fist at
protests and sit ins…holding back the tears in her eyes.
Lately, I know that feeling. Of watching a place you madly
love turn into a parody of itself. Ideals becoming nothing more than marketing slogans. I too have marched in protest, feeling strong
and living true democracy…but feeling the tears inside as my heart breaks-
knowing we are probably too little, too late.
So it was that these last few months have graced us with her
presence here. She tends to mom’s flowers,
homecooks us meals, and listens constantly to her study materials. She BARTS to
Oakland
for class, looks things up on Yahoo
Taiwan
translation, plays
audiotapes, reads workbooks. 100
questions for the citizenship exam.
Evenings as family had become punctuated by her demands for
us to answer exam questions. P walked
in for dinner and was quizzed with: “What were the original 13 colonies?” (Dear reader- can you answer that? I sure can’t. Although P got several more correct than I)
She asked our 4 year old niece, ‘What colors are on our
flag?”
‘Red, white, and Blue, “, Arielle responded clearly.
She practices to herself aloud, daily, repeatedly, driving
my mother nuts.
“Who elects the congress, the legislative branch?”
“The citizens of the
United states of America
” she
practices enunciating-
while in the background I holler ‘The corporations do!!!!”
Mom starts to giggle and shake her head at that
comment.
“But don’t say that until you are already a citizen."
Look man, I am just making full use of my constitutional
right to free speech as a good citizen.
As exam Monday approaches, Aunt P gets nervous. We are all exasperated at this point by the
constant recitation of governmental factoids. She knows it backwards and forwards. I am utterly impressed with her
self-discipline and capacity for lifelong learning.
“Will you PLEASE stop fretting, you’re going to have no
problem!” Mom demands.
Two days before exam day, Aunt P accidentally breaks a small
plate while doing housework. Mom came
home from work hours later to find Aunt P crying, crying, crying.
“Oh no! What’s happened!”
“I broke that little plate.”
Mom stood for a bit, processing that information. At an age where their lives are often
punctuated by the death of friends, illness of family, her elder sister is
crying like this over that little, rather common plate?
Oooookay…
Aunt P concluded that surely this bad luck.
She’s going to fail the exam and be humiliated.
Every horror story she has ever heard about
people encountering mean, cruel, nitpicky examiners floods in. Mom’s consoling words have no effect. Crying
continues.
They call my cousin Ann who takes the direct approach: “Ma,
you realize it’s the 21st century-surely you don’t still believe in
bad luck omens!?”
Hmmm. This from Ann who was convinced ghosts surely haunted
the stately historic hotel, former hospital she stayed at in
Germany
.
The next day after work, (yes, masochist that I am I do work
Sundays) P and I go to visit. Aunt P is calm. Jaw set in her normal manner,
taking care of us, making spareribs noodles. We buy the Wii accessories for her to pack up for Ann’s sons. She laughs at P and I flailing our Wii
skills.” We tell her 30 times “you’re
going to do fine.”
P finally “guarantees’ that she will pass the citizenship
examination.
We promise a big celebratory dinner on Monday night.
“What if I don’t pass?” she says.
‘Aiyaigh” we all grumble, “you WILL pass.”
“No matter what, we drink tomorrow!” P and I proclaim.
After a restless weekend of spotty sleep, Aunt P and mum got
on BART at 7:20 and headed to SF on Monday for the examination. The appointment was not until 10:15, but they
wanted to be sure. They got out at
Montgomery
, were way too
early, and headed to a coffee shop awhile. Both lamented the ‘watery’, crap coffee.
Mom makes small talk and is met with intense spacing out or
“don’t talk to me right now!”
They went back in and settled in the waiting area for
examination. At 10:10 Aunt P suddenly headed for the loo.
“Right NOW??”, Mom hissed, and proceeded to wait anxiously
as the minutes ticked by. 10:15. Where in hell is Aunt P!?
10:16. she returns and sits down.
10:17, a white man calls Aunt P’s name, and it’s showtime.
A bit before 11:00 I get the voicemail from Mom: “Of COURSE
she passed. The examiner said her
English was so good, even ‘perfect’. Now
she’s smiling again.”
That night we ate steak and ordered her a Cosmo. Next step now- the swearing in ceremony
scheduled for the morning of September 11.
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