Love is a Bunch of Banana • 愛就是一串香蕉

Hello, my name is Halden Levin, and you are listening to Little Dragon’s Journey. 你好！我叫李靜辰，你正在聽小龍的旅程。

Transition Music（音樂）

This is a blog post I shared in 2018:

Love is a Bunch of Bananas

“It's the little things in life that make all the difference. For me, it usually involves bananas. Practically every morning, my host mom or dad gives me two hard boiled eggs and a banana. However, this morning, there were no bananas on the premise. I can easily cope with the fact that there are no bananas, but my host dad would not rest until I had a banana. When we arrived at the school, he ran to the convenience store to buy a banana, but the convenience store didn't have any bananas. I went on my run, knowing I wouldn't have a banana as I usually do. However, when I arrived, there was a banana right beside my backpack. There was a group of girls sitting next to my backpack, but I had a feeling that that banana was for me. Love is a bunch of bananas, and sometimes just one.

Today was our last day of classes. We reviewed a lot of what we learned and practiced a little for our performance. Sadly, there was no cultural activity today; we just continued to practice for our performance. We went through the whole performance: the poems, the play, the songs, the other songs, the other songs after that, and some speeches. Two hours of practice later, we headed out in the pouring rain. Taylor invited me to have my nails painted with Nurie, Nikki, and her, but Nurie and Taylor ended up going home because it's the second to last dinner here in Chengdu we may have with our families. 吴璨 and I headed home as well.

I ate my weight in plums as I always do, and then we had dinner together. My host mom cooked everything I love, including cabbage in a nice broth, tomatoes cooked with egg, pumpkin orange squash, chicken with her special seasoning, and the awesome wood ear mushrooms. I practically ate all the cabbage and the chicken. I ate quite a bit of the other dishes too. Afterwards, I studied big time for the final test tomorrow, and wrote thank you notes on the backs of my panda charms to give to many people. Truly another wonderful day in Chengdu.”

So, I skipped ahead quite a bit for two reasons: (1) this is one of my favorite blog posts and (2) this is my last month in Taiwan. I think I’m going to keep this short and simple. Basically, I have a lot of happy memories associated with bananas. The beauty of the memory I just mentioned of my host dad from 2018 going out of his way to buy me a singular banana lies in how this simple act meant so much to me and expressed that he cared about my happiness and wellbeing. I feel this exact same way every time my parents buy my favorite foods at the grocery store without me even saying a word. Right now, here in Taiwan, I feel the exact same way. There’s beauty in the fact that my host mom and host dad buy pounds of cucumbers and carrots and apples and bananas, not because they habitually eat these foods, but because I do.

Two or three years ago I wrote a poem called “Love is a Bunch of Bananas.” I’ve only shared it with one person; I honestly have so many poems in my arsenal that I’ve never had the guts to share, but in the spirit of being a little more willing to be open and share, I will share this rather odd poem. Here goes something:

Love is a Bunch of Bananas

My seventeen-year-old philosophy on love is that if I am not committed to the relationship, I’d rather not be involved. I admit this is coming from a female who has never dated another human being in her life, and it is for a lack of trying. However, I understand true love; the type of love, that in the most literal sense, is bananas.

I am nine years-old and cultivating the word crush questioning whether crush is a forceful compression or a period of brief infatuation. Crush was volleyed around and translated kinesthetically, danced on tongues, filled silent mouths. My heart throbbed, pulsated, for Crush, for confirmation. Crush drew my stuffed dog in purple bandana, and I gazed at Crush with all the fickle fascination of a naïve, nine-year-old girl. Crush left.

I am eleven years-old, and he was my boy-space-friend. I did not know Love, but I assumed he was it. Christmas rolled around. He gave me furry socks and a hand-painted snow globe; I gave him paperback books. He was bad-boy meets good-girl, meets awkward lover. Peers stood on the periphery and assumed we were dating, but he was always my boy-space-friend; I was always his girl-space-friend. Nothing more.

I am thirteen, a paradoxically mature adolescent, and on break. Mistaken Love or Practical Joke called me on the phone and asked me out. Giddy and bewildered, I never answered the phone, or hung up for that matter. At times, I was incredulous, but Mistaken Love was Practical Joke, was practical joke on me, was some boy I’d never talked to in my entire life who knew my name and my number. A fleeting moment.

I am fifteen and experiencing voluntarily-induced discomfort. Tallish, red-haired boy, never talked to me before, asked for my number. Stuck-in-molasses moment, I gave, and Mistaken Love Jr. made me his girlfriend even though he wasn’t even my boy-space-friend. I’ve never talked to him before, but I’ve heard him curse while experiencing voluntarily-induced discomfort. I run.

I am sixteen and in love, in love with bananas. Asked what I desire, I said bananas, and so I received. Post-work-day-weary mother faced the antithetical atmosphere of rush-hour grocery store, the fact of lengthy lines of the homogeneous. Even in these moments, Love knows she needs bananas, leaves the line, and returns to the end with a bunch. I met true Love.

I am still sixteen, still in love, still in love with bananas. Early morning jog in the cloudy air of China, but no bananas. With sweat streaks, whole blotches, heavy breath, I sprinted upstairs with no expectation, no bananas. However, Love knows she needs bananas, drives away, and returns to school with just one next to the blue bag. I encountered true Love again.

I’m simply not one for mushy bananas.

Truly an odd poem, and when I say bananas, I truly just mean bananas. Just want to clarify for those who thought otherwise. Additionally, I must say that inspiration from this poem came from Sarah Kay's "Montauk"; I love her poetry, and I recommend you check out her work.

Transition Music（音樂）

Please visit haldenlevin.wixsite.com/littledragonjourney to access the transcript of this episode, and know you are always welcome to contact me through my website, email, or social media. Thank you for joining Little Dragon’s Journey. 謝謝你們參加小龍的旅程。拜拜！