On Mother Taiwan and her breast milk

Today was amusing. I had to pay yet another visit to Shinagawa Immigration bureau to pick up my extended visa for Japan.

One thing I wasn't expecting was running into a certain visa applicant again, and I just began laughing out loud every time I think about it.

Really I don't know this woman personally, but over our last 3 hours 'encounter' earlier this month, I feel like I know some major information that could identify this woman from miles away

The followings are what I know:

- She is from Taiwan

- She speaks heavily accented multiple languages: Mandarin, Japanese and English

- She has a young baby who is still drinking breast milk

- While she was taking care of her visa at the immigration bureau, someone she knows was baby-sitting her baby

- Said babysitter rang her not knowing where the breast milk was stored

- Mother Taiwan strived to explain to this baby-sitter where the milk is located, first in Japanese - no good. English - no good. And then she began to panic in Mandarin - this one particular segment I couldn't follow, as I do not understand a word of Mandarin.

- Mother Taiwan hung up the phone.

- 5 minutes later the phone rang again. This time it seemed to be a different person.

- And then the whole cycle repeated itself. Japanese - no good. English - seemed to be worse, and then she went back to Japanese, this time very slowly. And then she seemed to discover that the fundamental problem is the power of her voice, that it wasn't loud enough. So she began shouting instructions on where to find the breast milk that she had prepared, to the phone. Somebody seemed to get the message.

- 15 blissfully quiet minutes passed. And then her phone rang again. From her reaction I gathered that the babysitters still couldn't find the breast milk. And then she yelled at the phone, "It is on the top shelf of the little fridge in the bedroom! The ones in the kitchen fridge is not breast milk. Top shelf! No, that's in the kitchen! Top shelf of other fridge in the bedroom!"

- 5 minutes later, "No! I didn't lock the bedroom. What? Let me see."

- "I'm telling you the one in the kitchen is not breast milk. It is the one in the bedroom. The key is in the kitchen."

- After 1 hour of back and forth on the telephone, finally the phone didn't ring again. I was itching to ask her, "Did they finally find the breast milk?" Of course I didn't, because by then my turn was up.


Today as I was lining up to be called up for the visa, I ran into Mother Taiwan again. I wasn't paying attention, and truthfully I did not remember her face initially, but as I started standing and waiting, a cell phone rang. One woman picked up and started conversing rather loudly, and I couldn't help overhearing the conversation. After 1 minute, I recognized her voice, her accent, and the topic of importance, "The breast milk is on the top shelf of the little fridge in the bedroom! In the bedroom!"

Don't blame me for my disability to muffle my snort and giggles.

I wish... I WISH that she would buy a cooler where she could store her breast milk and put it on the kitchen table when she's asking someone to babysit. Or at least label the bottle somehow and put it in the kitchen's fridge. Poor baby, s/he must be really hungry while Mother Taiwan persisted in storing her breast milk on the top shelf of the little fridge in the bedroom. In the bedroom!