Swimming Pool

Carol, Mankit and my newborn nephew. Visiting baby in the after-birth care center is very boring. The baby only eats, sleep and poo. I got bored all the time and needed to go out for fresh air (and foods) everytime I went.

The after-birth care center is something very special in Taiwan. The newborn and mom would spend a month or so in the hotel-like facility. There are nurses and doctor to help caring for the baby and teaching the mom how to breastfeed and bath the baby. In Chinese tradition, it is very important to care for the new mom very well (if the husband's family doesn't do it, the wife's family will complain for the rest of their life). She is not allowed to wash her hair or shower (fear of contracting cold). She has to eat a lot of super nutritious foods so to recover well and produce milk. Staying in the center is a way of giving grand parents' a break.

However, you see more blue blankets in the baby rooms and less pink. I was told that those moms who have given birth to boys have better chance to stay in the expensive after-birth care center.

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I started my daily swimming routine last week. My chronic allergy has been showing sights of improving. The eczema is also getting better (the trick is to wash my face carefully and apply small quantity of steroid cream when spotting early sign of eczema attack. The deadly cream effectively stops the spread). Besides, I need to get trained for my long swim in the Sun-Moon lake at end of September.

Going back to my home in Lotus Hill, there is a pretty nice gym in the center of the complex. I signed up for a one-month membership and started my 1000 meter daily swim. It was really painful the first few days. My arm muscles were sore and I needed to apply muscle pain relief patches. However, it is nice type of pain and soreness. How much I miss swimming.

I guess my stamina and style was pretty good when swimming, I scared away people sharing the lane with me. The guy swimming in the next lane started chatting with me. We briefly introduced ourselves to each other and I found that he has worked or studied in most of the countries I ever stayed before. Very interesting, so I asked if he would like to have a drink or coffee sometimes. He only seemed too eager to agree. He left me his phone number yet I only gave out my MSN contact. I figured the guy should not be dangerous since people living in Lotus Hill are generally quite well-educated and decent.

The following few days I didn’t have a chance to get on line, so I text messaged the guy on Friday to see if he would like to come out for a drink after my dinner with Peggy. Peggy didn’t want to come to the drink, so I met with the guy alone in the most busy and trendy district in Taipei. We chatted and I found that he is teaching in some university and he is in his 40s. Although he English is very broken, I didn’t place a doubt of the authenticity of his stories (Master degree in Belgium and PhD degree in Manchester). He then proposed that we go to another pub in the same area. However, the pub was blaring the eardrum hurting music. I think I know some better place, which suits my age better.

My small pub in a quite street features various single-malt whisky, I felt so much at home. The bartender pays much attention to shave up the crystal clear ice which almost smugly fit into a good quality whisky glass. The ambiance is quiet and mature, relaxing. How much I love good single-malt whisky. The guy obviously has no idea what he is drinking (what a waste for someone who’s lived in UK), and to make the matter worse, I think he is getting drunk because he started to say I look very sexy and put his dirty hands around my shoulder and waist.

I was really shocked and embarrassed, pushing him away and the persistent dirty hands came around again and again. Even the bartender felt my uneasiness, kept staring at the guy and eyed me if I need help. This is really beyond my comprehension and I had no idea how I should react. I politely pushed the beast’s hand away, drank up and walked out the door. He followed me out of the pub. I was getting into a cab and I let him get in the cab, thinking since we all live in the same area, it is not too much trouble to give him a ride (stupid me, I should just jump in and shut the door, someone please tell me why I was so brainless? That must be the damn alcohol).

I had no courage to go swimming in the gym the next few days. Even going breakfast to the little coffee shop requires camouflage (I put on my eye glasses with messy hair). At the same time, my mobile phone was bombarded by non-stop phone calls and text message. I feel very sick. Perhaps I should learn how not to be nice. I was invited to dine and drink with strangers many times yet none of those ended up like this. I am really too naïve like Grace suggested?
My mom volunteered to pick up the phone calls for me, and my brother thinks he should send Ilan to bite his balls off. Ilan will certainly do the job very well. I miss Ilan.