“Taipei is impressive, but the really good stuff is in Peking,” Barry
emphasizes.
“Damn mosquitoes! The place is full of them,” Randy complains. “How
can you sleep in here, Gurd?”
“That would help. Morley had trouble with the mosquitoes in our place and
built screen doors for the balcony. Now we can keep cool at night with the doors
open and sleep in peace.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Gurd replies, “but that wouldn’t conform with the
architecture. Wouldn’t work here.”
Before much longer, the mosquitoes are working overtime and finally
succeed in driving us out. It’s getting late anyway. We make our excuses; thank
our host; and head for the car. The drive home is a little slower than was our
arrival.
“It stinks! It’s dirty; the benjo (toilet) reeks; the tatami are mouldy. And the
swamp in front is lousy with mosquitoes. I’d burn it down!”
Someday, I think to myself, Knapper-san will likely have the wherewithal to
do justice to his treasure. Then, it might be named an historical monument by the
Japanese government. Or he’ll buy a better place.
by Morley Evans