Culture Lesson #1

JFK Gate #7
As we waited with what seemed to be half the population of Asia for our flight from JFK to Taipei (via Anchorage), Foster made the observation that we seemed to be the only Americans on the flight. We had the requisite conversation about the fact that many of these people may be Americans even though they don’t look like us. We did agree, however, that we were the only Awkwardly Tall Pale Family (aka ATPF from here on out) at the gate – not to be confused with the White Tall Family because that acronym will be put to a different use in just a moment.

Culture Lesson #1: Pig Pile for Everything

Not speaking Chinese presents a certain number of challenges when flying China Airlines. However, lack of familiarity with cultural norms can be just as much of a disadvantage. For instance, when the gate attendant tapped the microphone and breathed into it, we did not realize that it was the secret signal to grab our belongings and pig pile at the entrance to the jet way.

“WTF,” said the ATPF. I thought we had paid for a reserved seat on this flight. These people all seemed to think it was “First come, first served.” Panic set in. We grabbed our bags and rushed the gate attendant with gusto. We can do this, I thought. We just need to embrace the cultural norms and join the party. Our children have spent their lives preparing for this. Sibling rivalry is the ultimate training ground for this overzealous rush to be first at everything. Oh yeah…we’re a savvy traveling family!

Oh yeah…we’ve apparently pig-piled our way into the first class line. This is where a basic knowledge of Chinese would have come in handy. The ATWF is shamed to the back of the economy class mob where they return to their cultural comfort zone: tall and clueless. We eventually shuffle and elbow our way to the entrance to the jet way. We smile sheepishly at the gate attendant/bouncer who is looking rather abused himself, as he halts “rule-breakers” (all those not holding tickets for rows 49-63) left and right and attempts to restore order to this chaotic scene.

When we at last make our way onto the plane, my fears are dispelled. This is, in fact, a flying ocean liner with reserved seats for all and an upstairs deck for first-class passengers. This is a new concept for our kids. They never knew that multi-level planes existed. Naturally they are curious, and Nolan wants to explore the first-class cabin to see what he is missing. However, I have already been publicly scorned once today for breaching the first-class barrier. I know better than to wander uninvited into that foreign land.

Once the ATPF makes their way to their designated seats at the back of the plane (and has all of the necessary “who gets to sit where” negotiations while blocking the aisle with a year’s worth of luggage), we settle in and buckle up. Foster had been desperately praying for an airplane with personal power chargers. Apparently he needs to reinvest himself in his relationship with the powers above. No chargers…no seat-back entertainment…just one giant movie screen with the promise of a movie in Chinese. Foster went to sleep. Ninety minutes into the architectural history of Taiwan during the Japanese Occupation in Chinese with English subtitles, I gave up on my enthusiasm to learn Chinese through immersion and took off my headphones. I think I mastered two words: building and occupation. That is if you don’t count “thank you,” which I already knew thanks to Sagwa the Chinese Siamese cat on PBS.

I decided I should probably just get some sleep too. I need to rest up and channel some energy to cultivating my aggressive side just in case I need to pig-pile for something that really does matter in the next year. It makes me tired just thinking about it.