Childhood, Recalled, in Kaohsiung

The memories connected the places, translated…

At the start of the performance, I’d asked the members of the audience to sketch out toys in their childhood years, or a shirt that belonged to children. The members of the audience only had thirty seconds to do this, the female actress explained, “the blankies and stuff toys, in the infancy years, connected what’s real and what’s imagined, so long as meaning is given to these items, then, these items became, the prototype of artists.” That was the British analyst, Winnicott’s theory of “transitional objects”. I sat in the audience, expected the squiggly lines that members of the audience drew meant something.

There was a person, who’d used a crayon to draw squiggly lines on the paper, then, crimped up the paper after she was done drawing. She’d told me that this was the blanket to which she’d hugged onto, that it was big enough to wrap herself in it, that it was her favorite toy, as well as article of clothing. After the members of the audience left the stage, the performances began. The actors and dancers on that simplified stage, portrayed my article, “Daughters’, with the clothes of their father, telling their stories. I’d called this space “Daughters’ Rooms”, that was the very first time I took my performances to Kaohsiung.

I’d not known a lot of people locally, but, each one I’d known all had this forceful strength about them. After my performances, I’d gone to a midnight snack with a friend J, who owned a patisserie. It was already past ten at night, he’d told me it was his very first meal for the day. J owns and operates a cake shop, and started developing the products—to give back to his childhood town. He’d recommended a noddle stand, ordered two bowls of noodles, very large in portion, there was a huge piece of pork chop in each and every bowl. “Try some, if you can’t finish the whole thing, I’ll eat it for you.”, he’d told me. I’d watched as the owner of the stand cooked, with that concentration, and, looked at the vintage way the food truck was decorated, and, chewed on that cooked completely to soft porkchop.

At which time, the owner came to us, he’d recognized J, said that he’d been keeping up with his published articles, they’d started discussing what business was like in Kaohsiung with great enthusiasm, but a lowered voice. The most depressing thing that J and the owner of the noodle stand ever experienced were having their dishes copied away by other competitors. Desserts and foods were easily learned, with a low loyalty and return rate from the customers, the business is easily lost, but, they’d still worked hard, setting up a brand for their own products.

The noodle stand owner was very worked up and told, that it took him TWO whole years, to develop the right kind of noodles to sell, not calculating in the designs of the food stand, the atmosphere his customers dined in. I’d consoled with him, that to me, taste beats everything. “I don’t regularly eat noodles, but if I make it to Kaohsiung again, I will surely, take a detour to your stand.” That’s not just me saying it, I’d already, finished the pork chop completely, and, the noodles, gone too.

The owner of the stand asked J, a lot of people suggested to head up north to start their businesses, would he want to leave Kaohsiung? J shook his head. I’d felt that the connection they shared for this place had greatly exceeded my connection to Taipei already. I’d asked, why noodles? He’d thought for a while, said, “because this is a memory of my childhood years.”

I’d always believed, that as you can hear someone give an account of her/his childhood, perhaps, you’re, in love with the person. The things that’s happened to us as children became the bricks that paved the way in our lives, some were steady and stable, others, slanted. We’d subconsciously stepped on them, some were stable, others, shaky. Walked for a very long time, then one day, we’d, looked down and discover, that those smaller tiles, were the most colorful of all.

So, this, is on the wonderful memories connected to one’s own childhood years, and, surely, everybody should have at least one or two moments in their childhood that’s like that, but, the majority of the childhood careers (b/c it is one!!!) for most of us, had usually been very painful.