When I was a little las in the states, grandparents in storybooks and in the community were withered old people with broad smiles. Grandmothers tended to have a wonderful cinnamon-applepie kind of homely smell whenever you hugged them and they always had a cookie handy. Grandfathers would sit you in their lap and tell you stories of the good old days. Of course, my grandparents were living in Taiwan at the time, so I had to imagine what Taiwanese grandparents would be like. In my innocent little mind, I thought Taiwanese grandparents would be no different. The snacks they baked and the stories they told would probably be a bit different, but they would still be kindly little figures.
When I moved back to Taiwan, everything was a complete bundle of new sights, sounds, and smells. Whenever I walked into my Grandparents home, strong scents of chinese herbs would force it's way up my nostrils. You could also see my disappointment when I found out traditional Taiwanese didn't have dessert after every meal. What about my homemade cookies?! Instead of a grandma that planted daisies and made sweets, my grandma planted garlic and raised poultry. She would slaughter a chicken everytime my family went back to visit. The chicken would always be lying peacefuly head and all in the middle of the table. Surrounding the chicken would usually be around ten plates of traditional stir-fry or steamed foods. Grandma's biggest nightmare was that we become malnurished from all that unhealthy city food. She would nag us until we were so full we could only lay with our eyes half-closed like the chicken. Of all the dishes she would prepare, my lovely granny would always fry up a batch of chicken blood... from that very chicken.
My first impression of Grandpa was of him picking on his toenails. Another thing that set him apart from mainstream Grandpas was that he enjoyed adding a curse word at the end of every sentence. Curse words in grandpa's dictionary was something that could be used as a greeting or a goodbye, an explanation of happiness or simply as a curse. Great with me! He enjoyed walking around in his boxers and had to eat everything before anyone else. Grandpa rode a large motorbike and would speed through the traffic lights just like any 18 year old. I loved riding in the back. It gave mommy a heart attack. He would ride us around town and take us to meet other old friends of his. I especially enjoyed it when he took us to a general store his friend owned. I could stuff my pocket with everything money could buy there.
In the end, I discovered that no matter how different my grandparents were, they still loved me in there own special way. It wasn't hard to see from the happy curse grandpa greeted me with everytime a got home or the smile on grandma's face whenever I reached out for a second helping of chicken blood.