We hope this issue's cover story "A New Dance of Cultures" will give readers insights into Taiwan's decade-old wave of immigration from the twin perspectives of life and culture. To be frank, researching this feature wasn't easy. When deputy editor Vito Lee began an attempt to interview one Southeast Asian laborer near the Taoyuan train station with the question "Can you speak English?" he was met with a blank stare. In the end, he held his conversations with workers and spouses from various nations in simple Mandarin.

So how should we interact with these familiar strangers?

I recently saw the movie The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, in which Mike, a brutal and vulgar US border patrol officer, accidentally kills Estrada, an honest and hardworking ranch hand from Mexico who has been in America for many years. After Estrada's death, the police discover he was in the States illegally and do not investigate the homicide. However, Estrada's Spanish-speaking American friend and foreman Pete insists that Mike help him bring Estrada's body back home for burial.

The trip into Estrada's homeland is an eye-opening journey of atonement for Mike, for whom the word "Mexican" has always been synonymous with "illegal alien." This prejudice has been the driving force behind his desire to mistreat these "subhumans." But during his journey he witnesses the simplicity, happiness, friendliness, and mysterious strength (as well as cunning and cowardice) of the Mexican people. This is the first time he sees them as humans, and the first time he truly "sees" these people that he lives so close to and with whom he plays cat and mouse along the border.

After the film hit the theaters, pundits pointed out that what it portrayed was the fear and longing of the more than six million illegal Mexican immigrants living within America's borders--afraid they might die a pointless and unjust death in a strange land, and longing to find true friendship and complete acceptance there.

Taiwan is seeing an increasing number of workers and spouses from Southeast Asia, as well as an explosion of brides and illegal immigrants from the PRC. Do they, too, long and fear? I don't know, but I'm sure that just like me, many people, in recent years, have brushed shoulders with people on the streets of Taipei with the same color hair and skin as their own, but couldn't understand a word they were saying. Was it some mainland dialect of Chinese? Vietnamese? Thai? Indonesian? I am taken aback by how many "outsiders" there are in my country, and frustrated by my ignorance about them.

A friend once told me that when strolling about the Chang Kai-shek Memorial early one holiday morning, she discovered group after group of male and female foreign laborers and domestic helpers chattering happily in the shade of the trees. They had been "let out" of the work sites, care facilities, or homes where they provided their services. A deep feeling of awkwardness and insecurity swelled within her, and as she gazed she saw unveiled suspicion and rejection in their eyes too.

The barrier erected by Taiwanese against laborers from Southeast Asia stands in stark contrast to the way "internationalization" has been a policy buzzword in Taiwan for many years. But the term has seemed more to mean unfiltered acceptance of advanced nations' values and strenuous efforts to emulate them--something Taiwan has excelled at over the past century. Even so, we clearly haven't been so very successful in that respect either. It's not uncommon to see foreigners dressed in their suits and ties trying unsuccessfully to wave down a taxi. When cabbies that actually do stop discover that they are unable to communicate with them, they shoo the bewildered visitors out of their vehicles.

Forget internationalization, globalization, localization, what have you. However many slogans you have, they are irrelevant. It all boils down to treating people with sincerity, as equals, and with kindness. I realize that thus far I lack the opportunities and skills to interact with foreign workers. But next time I pass one on the street, the least I can do is look them squarely in the eye and give them a smile, like the countless friendly smiles that I have received when visiting other countries.