No Karaoke, Please!

Warning!

This blog contains 0 pictures....

Because someone, who shall go unamed, forgot to recharge her camera battery, and thus, just as she was about to have an amazing cultural experience, had no way of  making record of it.

Moon Festival is just around the corner. Like most Taiwanese holidays, family and food are involved. Last Sunday, we were invited to a Moon Festival barbecue. The host was Michael's (our friend from Shalu) cousin. I was expecting, well, I am not sure what I was expecting, but I knew it would be fun. It's Taiwan after all.

I was pleasantly surprised to find more that just a small family gathering. An entire street was closed off, each household armed with charcoal barbecue. At the end of the street a truck bed, decorated with an arch of colorful balloons, served as a stage.

Our hosts, Henry and Vicky, were prepared to feed a small army. As the sun began to set, the smell of charcoal began to fill the street. Smoke wafted through and over the heads of the many people gathering.

The word barbecue conjures images of hamburgers, hot dogs, and other mouth watering delicacies. None of these were served.

Squid balls, pork cutlets, sausages, pig's blood cake, tofu, timbula (fish paste), pomelos, mushrooms, green pepper, corn in the cob.....   Topped off with an old fashion American roasted marshmallow. And yes, I tried it all, except the pork, of course.

Throughout the evening neighbors came by with gifts of food. One brought a large loaf of bread. Another, two medium size fish. A third brought pomelos, a fruit somewhat similar to grapefruit. 

On stage, a constant flow of activity filled the air. A tenor sax solo. Names pulled from a box for giveaways. Speeches. Of course, we didn't understand a word of the unceasing activity. Fireworks punctuated the evening's festivities. Sparklers added to the atmosphere.  

There was no denying we stood out in the crowd. Unlike Taichung, foreigners are less common in Shalu.

Overall, it was a great evening.

Oh wait a minute, the title of this entry was No Karaoke, Please. 

Well, it was a great evening until I was somehow railroaded. Early in the evening before the festivities got under way, Michael asked me what English song I would like to hear. Remembering Michael's enthusiasm for Country Roads, I jokingly suggested it.

 I found out later part of the reason for the stage was for the talented neighborhood people to perform for their friends and family. Surely, Michael didn't think I would actually get up and sing karaoke?

In all my life, I have never sang karaoke. I have never wanted to sing karaoke. Karaoke and I just are not friends. We're not even casual acquaintances. Period. (enough said, I think you get the point.)

We  were just getting ready to leave. If I had just said to Carl five minutes earlier that we needed to get going, the whole episode would have never happened. I would still be karaoke free. But, no. Michael did expect me to go up on that stage, and so did Anna. There was no getting out of it. I tried. I pleaded.

Luckily, I wasn't alone. Bless Michael. He loves to sing. And he loves to sing loud.... loud enough to cover up this little American's tiny voice. So sing, I did. Even though the promised English words never appeared. The chorus was great, but the verses non-existent. Yeah, Country Roads isn't on my repertoire of memorized songs.  Should have requested Jesus Loves Me!