At the start of a new year, I find myself reflecting back on 1995--a year the majority of which was spent living overseas in Taiwan. It was a year of self-discovery that changed my view of the world and that continues to influence my life back in Virginia. One could say that this trip permitted me to complete a circle; that is, one that my mother started in her 20s when she departed Taiwan and returned to it with me, now in my 20s.

With my arrival on a muggy November evening, a whole new world unfolded before me and enveloped me with its sights and sounds. This trip marked the beginning of a new chapter of my life that was set in motion with my decision to take up a personal challenge--to pursue my love for the Chinese Mandarin language through total immersion. It was also a professional risk for me because I would be taking time off from a budding legal career. "Will the trade-off be worth the risk?" I asked myself.

I had begun serious study of Mandarin as an undergraduate at the College of William & Mary. It is sort of ironic when I think about it. A college chartered in 1693 under the reign of King William III and Queen Mary II of England and set in tiny Williamsburg, Virginia--an area steeped in the historic figures and events leading to the birth of the United States. Yet, it was here that my desire to study the native tongue and Chinese culture of my immigrant parents was born.

Previous attempts at Mandarin study were denied due to the unavailability of teachers where I grew up, the demands on my parents' time as entrepreneurs, and their desire that my English ability be equal to or even surpass that of my classmates. On one hand, I can be thankful that English is my native language. After all, the ability to communicate effectively in English is, for an attorney in the US, one of the greatest assets she can have. On the other hand, my inability to speak Mandarin played a part in depriving me of years of being able to relate to my relatives and other Chinese people, who carried in their hearts and minds a past life overseas. Only recently have I been able to feel and fully understand the bond that I have with Chinese people everywhere.

As I recall the stories of hardships suffered by my mother during her childhood when the Japanese still occupied Taiwan, I am grateful that my parents were able to rear me and my sister in the United States. When I left the United States for my mother's homeland, I can imagine some of what she felt.

Returning to Chiayi, my mother's hometown, and studying Chinese at my parents' alma mater, Taiwan Normal University, redefined the world as I had experienced it growing up and working in a city where there were no other Chinese people at the time. Professionally, I was the only American-Chinese attorney in the city where I practiced. On November 11, 1994, all of this changed drastically when my plane landed at CKS airport. From that point on, I was to meet some of the most important people in my life for the first time--relatives and my parents' friends as well as fellow classmates from all over the world.

Taiwan was full of firsts for me: The first time that I had been through an earthquake or an air raid drill which left the streets of Taipei deserted (imagine that). The first time that I had written and delivered a speech in Mandarin. The first time that I had attended a Christian church service conducted entirely in Mandarin. The first time that I had celebrated Chinese New Year with my relatives in Taoyuan complete with hot pot (huo guo), sticky rice cake (nian gao), and a lucky red envelope (hong bao). The first time that I had attended a traditional Chinese wedding. My list could go on and on.

Living in Taiwan, I was treated to fragrant teas, beef noodles, and black-skinned chicken. I had the chance to visit Alishan--a place that I had only heard about in a song. It was a beautiful and peaceful place high up in a chilly sea of clouds. There I saw peculiar tree formations such as an elephant's head thrusting itself out of the wet ground and azaleas in all their red, fuchsia, pink and white glory crowning the summit in November.

Other events that made an impression on me were watching live coverage of the Grand Hotel's roof go up in flames and President Lee departing the airport for his historic trip to the US. There was also the hunger strike outside the Control Yuan that I passed by in the dark of evening where black and white portraits of those who had tragically perished in the Taichung Welcome KTV fire were displayed.

This land that my parents had known was one where telephones, televisions, and refrigerators were not common household items; where no indoor plumbing existed; where husbandry dominated the land; and where bicycles rather than cars and motor scooters were the primary means of transportation. All this had changed during Taiwan's economic miracle. The Taiwanese life of simplicity now had all the modern-day comforts as well as modern-day ills--drugs, youth violence and pollution.

On my own in Taipei, I learned so much about how the people of Taiwan think and behave. A place that has evolved so quickly industrially, technologically, and democratically still retains so much of what Westerners would consider unscientific at its best or superstitious at its worst--for example, asking for a potential employee's blood type as a means of determining personality or the practice of face and palm reading.

For an American attorney, who has lived all her life in a democratic society, and who has participated in a legal system that I believe to be one of the finest in the world, I was fortunate to have the opportunity to see another political and legal system in action. My great-uncle and members of his staff provided me with access to the legislative Yuan and aided me in understanding how Taiwan's government had changed from an authoritarian government to a three-party system still in the pangs of development. I saw how fortunate Americans are to live in a society where domestic relations law, laws on public access for the disabled, and employment discrimination laws are more developed and enforced.

Nonetheless, I am still impressed with the dedication of Taiwan's public servants who work to improve Taiwan for all of its inhabitants. I am impressed to see open criticism by the people on issues such as the disposal of radioactive waste, the national health care system, and the enforcement of fire safety regulations.

Understanding the systems of government in Taiwan and the United States, the cultures of the people of these two lands, and their languages has helped me to focus my own professional goals. I want to be a part of both lands and their continued prosperity. My new position in Washington, D.C. on Capitol Hill is a positive step in that direction.

In closing, it has been almost 30 years since my mother established her family in the United States. Time has not stood still for Taiwan, but some things will never change, such as the deep sense of family and the work and study ethics that have propelled Taiwan's economy.

As I posed the question earlier, "Was the trade-off worth the risk?" I can now respond with a resounding, "Yes! Definitely!"

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Ellen Kuo (second from right) returned to Taiwan to become reacquainted with the people and affairs of her family's old home. Now an attorney, she feels it has been worth it. The photo shows her with classmates on the school campus.