We’re home. I know because I’m sitting in front of a full size computer screen with cool air coming in at the window. Fortunately, I have a few prompts like the Deaflympics mug of coffee on the desk that will remind me of our last days in Taipei.

We got back to Ohio yesterday afternoon thanks to B who picked us up at the airport. Some friends came to plaster a huge congratulations Jessie sign onto the garage door, and their company helped us stay awake until a reasonable hour. B made another trip back to the airport to pick up J at 1:30 AM and we had a quick reunion when she walked through the door around 3 AM.

Then it was back to sleep for a few more hours. Images of the trip kept flickering through my dreams and, when I opened my eyes, I wasn’t sure whether I was here or there. Already, my memory is failing me. I can’t give an account of what happened when without referring to the blog, so I’m going to try do get down impressions from the last two days before they vanish.

The morning after the game, we got down to the hotel’s breakfast buffet late and then lingered for a while with other parents. I think we were all experiencing the confusion parents often feel about the achievements of grown children. The gold medal is clearly their accomplishment but I don’t think I was alone in feeling to a little reflected glory. Of course, the other parents knew what it took to get these girls to this place and, throughout this trip, we’ve shared our stories. Just as deafness creates a bond between the athletes, raising a deaf child creates a connection for the parents.

After breakfast, P and I slipped out to visit a tea store right around the corner from the hotel. In a tiny little shop lined with canisters filled with various tea leaves, two kindly Chinese gentlemen showed as a collection of everyday pots and cups—not the fancy stuff we’ve been seeing in the shops for tourists. When it was clear we were buyers, they also offered us cups of fragrant tea. I’ve always been partial to coffee but this trip has definitely awakened my senses to the serious satisfactions of tea drinking.

Packing was the next project. One clever mom brought a suitcase full of snacks so she had an empty suitcase for souvenirs. I had one new Deaflympics bag and borrowed another. Then I fell back on my experience playing Tetris and started fitting things together. D was skeptical but everything ended up in a bag, and I was even able to find space for the light up tambourines from Closing Ceremonies.

Late in the afternoon, we headed back to the Sogo food court for more dumplings. On the walk back to the hotel, we stopped at a tiny temple. It had been deserted the other day, but now there were hundreds of people in the little plaza in front of it. There was music and people were up with sticks of incense.

We asked the people at the money-to-burn stand what was happening and they managed to explain that, even though the temple was Buddhist, the people in front of it were engaged in a totally different Ghost Festival that involves making offerings to ancestors. The people who participate in these festivals are the same ones who will, without any sense of contradiction, be buying electronics at the mall we saw yesterday. I have to admit that this ability to embrace diversity and even inconsistency is one of the things I will miss about Taipei

The day ended with Closing Ceremonies which, I fear, I didn’t do justice to in my previous typo-filled post. Because of some confusion about where we were supposed to enter the stadium, we walked around an entire block very fast and arrived in our seats, drenched in sweat, just as the ceremonies began. Our tickets entitled us to a goodie box filled with food and the aforementioned tambourine. To be honest, if they were going to spring for small battery powered appliances, I would have preferred a mini-fan, but the light-up tambourines did lend a festive feel to the evening.

The athletes were all seated at round tables on the field and I thought again about how extraordinary it was to have so many deaf people concentrated in one place. Most of these people will return to lives like Jessie’s where contact with other deaf people requires deliberate effort. Here signing was the norm and there was no need to explain yourself to anyone. That alone will be a memorable experience for her.

A local culinary institute served the athletes a 13 course feast including many of the Taiwanese specialties we’d sampled during our visit. Our box included buns with various fillings so we wouldn’t feel too jealous of what was happening on the field. As the athletes ate, people talked. This event felt more political, though I could sincerely endorse the thanks for all the volunteers. I don’t think I’ve ever met such helpful, cheerful people. In our entire stay in Taipei, I never saw anyone get upset or hostile or impatient.

At the Closing Ceremonies, we were treated to more drumming and something called a Lion Dance. Enormous puppets showed up at various places in the stadium and did elaborate routines. We were lucky enough to be sitting near some small raised platforms. At one point, one lion which was being operated by two very skilled acrobats did a series of jumps from one platform to the next. Two long dragons writhed around the stadium, thanks to a team of men with sticks, and an enormous steam-breathing creature—parent to the little lions, perhaps—capered about at one end of the field.

We also got a taste of Chinese opera, complete with a singing diva, a troupe of twirling swordsmen, a parade of balloon people and an assemblage of acrobats. They moved right into the area where the athletes were sitting and soon everything was happily chaotic. That made it harder for the ceremonial part of the evening which including lowering the Deaflympic flag and passing it on to Greece officials who were accompanied by a performing group of their own. By that time, groups of athletes were were running, dancing and tumbling around the track, encouraging the crowd to laugh and wave and applaud.

Their attention was captured again only when the Olympic flame was extinguished. The head of the International Committee for Deaf Sports gave a moving speech in sign language thanking Taipei and announcing the end of the ceremonies. She drew one hand, fingers fluttering, down past her other forearm, to show that the flame for the games would go out. And then, the drums pounded, the flame disappeared and fireworks exploded.

By the time, we got back to the hotel, it was clear the games were over. The table and bulletin boards that occupied one end of the lobby had vanished. The security systems had been dismantled. We confirmed our transportation for the next day and went to bed. Next morning, we were up at 6 AM and, from the hotel window, I could see the Tai Chi class warming up across the highway.

The trip home was long but uneventful except for a hurried connection in Tokyo and some sort of electronic malfunction on the second flight that made them decide to shut down the inflight movies and, for a while, the little air vents above our seats. For the first time since we started traveling, I felt ill and eager to be home.

Now that we are here, I’m keenly aware of having clean, cool air. That’s the good news. The bad news is American food which just doesn’t compare to what we ate in Taiwan. For two weeks, we enjoyed lots of seafood and vegetables and rice and very little sugar. I’m hoping I can incorporate some of these healthier practices into our habits here at home.

I don't know what will become of this blog. It started as a repository for my memories and turned into a way of sharing this experience with a small but very enthusiastic community. I feel like I should thank the readers who made it through my very long posts. Knowing you were reading made me think more carefully about what I was writing.