A-hsiung's Life at the Kindergarten

Four-year-old Lin Wen-hsiung (not his real name) only came with his mother to live in Taiwan in mid-September this year. With them came Wen-hsiung's younger brother Wen-chieh, just two years old. On their journey, the people they missed most were their nine-month-old sister, whom they had left behind at their grandmother's home in the Guangdong countryside, and the aunt who had looked after Lin Wen-hsiung for as long as he could remember.

When he arrived in Taiwan, Wen-hsiung had no opportunity to get a taste of Taipei's bright lights, but he was very happy because at last he could see his father every day. His father, who works at a chemical plant, does not get much holiday and does not earn very much either, so he could not often visit the mainland. Ever since Wen-hsiung was small, he had only been able to be with his father a few days every Chinese New Year. Wen-hsiung has always been shy of strangers, but strange to say, as soon as he saw his father he would rush to hug him. Seeing an honest smile spread across his father's simple, weathered face, Wen-hsiung feels very safe and happy.

What on earth is the teacher saying?

When Wen-hsiung had just arrived in Taiwan, he would hardly say a word at his kindergarten. This was not because he was unsociable, but because in his short experience he had never heard nor spoken Mandarin. He could only speak a broad Cantonese Hakka dialect. Unable to understand the language, Wen-hsiung could only sit dumbly in the classroom, and in the toddlers' class next door his little brother Wen-chieh would constantly cry and make a commotion, so the teacher finally told Wen-hsiung he needn't come to class, but instead should go outside and look after his little brother.

Two-year-old Wen-chieh was barely even weaned, so it was hardly surprising that in these new surroundings he was scared and unsettled. For the first two weeks at the kindergarten, Wen-chieh cried and sobbed all day, and once he started crying he would not do anything he was told--in any case he didn't understand--and had to have his brother hold his hand and slowly comfort him. Sometimes Wen-chieh would cry so much that both his hands would be covered in tears and snot, and Wen-hsiung would impatiently push his brother's hands away. But most of the time Wen-hsiung would protect Wen-chieh like a little father. For after all, each was the only one there who could understand and help the other.

Fortunately four-year-olds are not very observant, and none of the other 25 children in the class seems to have noticed anything different about Wen-hsiung. After class, Wen-hsiung plays with all the other children on the slides and see-saws. Even more luckily, Wen-hsiung's teacher Ms Weng is also a Hakka, and half by guesswork she has slowly and patiently built up a channel of communication with Wen-hsiung, and even acts as his interpreter.

One day Ms Weng asked Wen-hsiung: "A-hsiung, do you like going to school?" Without the slightest hesitation, Wen-hsiung answered "Yes!" He had no idea that such a simple reply would leave Ms Weng deeply moved, and she quietly resolved to teach Wen-hsiung, so that he would learn something. Gradually, no matter how much Wen-chieh cried, Ms Weng insisted that Wen-hsiung should attend class properly. Fortunately Wen-chieh was gradually getting used to kindergarten too, and he had learned to eat quietly and even take his bowl to the kitchen after he had finished.

A different child

Wen-hsiung is not stupid. In fact he is quite a bright child. But teaching him still requires a lot of effort. Other children learn to read the Mandarin Phonetic Symbols effortlessly, but Wen-hsiung has never got rid of his strong Hakka accent. "Why don't I just teach him in Hakka?" was an idea which crossed Ms Weng's mind, but then she thought, "If he doesn't learn Mandarin now, what will he do when he gets into elementary school?" So she patiently began correcting Wen-hsiung over and over again. Because of his special situation, he is the only child in the class who "can finish class and go out to play even if he hasn't learnt his lessons properly."

On hearing that Wen-hsiung was a child from across the strait, Ms Weng had inexpressibly complex feelings, partly sympathy but even more excitement: "At last I was going to teach a child who was different!" Although Wen-hsiung is rather careless in his habits and not as brightly dressed as his classmates, he has a special quality not to be found in most Taiwanese children.

"Whenever I see A-hsiung and his brother A-chieh, I'm very touched: they're so straightforward, so simple and so affectionate, not like the children here, who tend to be jealous and attention-seeking. Really, I sometimes feel I've learnt a lot from them...," says Ms Weng.

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Eating snacks, learning English, riding to kindergarten in a comfortable school bus: let's hope this pair of little brothers can grow up healthy and happy in Taiwan! (photo by Vincent Chang)