I've been away from Taiwan for 13 years, and I've discovered that I have become an outsider! The language people speak is the same as before, but often, though I get the surface meaning of the words, I miss the underlying message. Every three-year-old child can sing the jingles from TV ads, but I can't figure out what they are saying. The newspapers-now over 40 pages long-feel heavy, and I don't know where to begin. The politicians in the headlines seem to be playing absurd games of their own invention in black and white. I read my way earnestly through the postmodern novels in the marketplace, but still don't get the point.
Why these feelings of alienation? Is it because my nearly 30 years of education in Chinese culture is insufficient? Or because I have been living in a different culture for so long?
My feeling of surprise is no ordinary one. When I think back to my youth, we all studied the same textbooks, read the same novels, sang the same pop songs and grew up in the same environment. How is it that even the people of my age who have stayed in Taiwan and become writers and politicians-with whom I share this same background-are so incomprehensible to me?
While living abroad I have tried hard to stay abreast of the news in Taiwan. I kidded myself that I was passing along Chinese tradition to my Gallicised son, who knows he is Chinese but doesn't know why he has to be a Chinese. I have always been proud to be Chinese. I love everything about Taiwan and see Taiwan as my one and only true home. But now I am on the outside looking in. It's hard to describe in words the pain I feel.
Yet, though I have felt the shock of discovering this cultural gap, when I read Sinorama it is like a life saving vine on the edge of the cliff. By hanging on to it, I not only don't fall into the abyss, but can even pull myself back up!
The articles in the magazine, whether sentimental or analytical, are all readily comprehensible. Even more importantly, each is written with a dollop of genuine concern. When I read them I can see clearly in my mind our "Formosa"-the "beautiful isle" in the Pacific.
Today in Paris it is sunny-a rarity for a late fall day. I am inspired to write this letter! Perhaps some will empathize with me, others perhaps even share my feelings, but in any case this letter will at least serve to express my gratitude to all the staff at Sinorama for their dedication. It is only because of them that we have this cultural oasis.
Correction:
In the August issue of Sinorama (the September issue for overseas subscribers), it was stated in the caption that among the graduates of Pui Ching elementary school in Hong Kong is Nobel laureate Yang Chen-ning. That information is not accurate, and we thank reader Tsen Chih-jen for pointing this out to us.
