Last night as I left work, one of my students came out of the school after me. "Teacher!" Yvonne called, and I slowed down, surprised that she wanted to walk with me, as the 12-year old girl is pretty shy in class. "Are you walking home?" I asked her. "Yes, my house is over there," and she pointed just around the corner.
"Teacher, you walk so fast!" she observed. I laughed... "Yeah, I guess I do." But you should see my dad! I thought... he never seems to alter his pace from his professional mail carrier gait to a more chilled out stroll.
"But, why, Teacher?" Yvonne persisted, seeming to get at something deeper.
"Hmm... I like to get where I'm going?" I offered. Isn't it obvious?
"My mom says Americans and other... (she pauses and I suggest the word she is looking for--Westerners) yes, Westerners... always walk fast." She looks at me, waiting for confirmation of what her mother has taught her.
I laugh and affirm her suspicions. "That's probably mostly true."
"Well," she pauses and I see her gears churning--both coming to a conclusion and then internally interpreting her thoughts into English from Chinese. "Not in Taiwan. Taiwan people don't like to walk at all!"
I smile and we say goodnight to each other. She turns the corner to saunter home with her older brother. I keep walking straight, down the street I take to get home, picking up the pace.
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