Author's note: I have had a WONDERFUL time in Taiwan; please check out my companion list to this one for proof of that. But I thought it fitting, since I'm leaving, to remind myself of why it's not all bad to be going home--so this was my way of doing that.
10. Having to check all movies etc to make sure they are in English
OK, so this was only actually an issue once, last week when Tiffiany, Rachel and I went to see Brave and left two Chinese-dubbed lines in. But it will be very nice when I won't have to scrutinize every film title and description to be sure it's in English. In general, having English-language media readily available again will be a wonderful thing.
9. Having to watch my vocabulary and speed when talking
I don't particularly mind doing this, and I've gotten quite used to adjusting my speech to the English level of those around me--my students, for instance--but it will be much easier when I can turn that part of my brain off and just talk.
8. Being dirty all the time
In the same category: having my clothes get dirty all the time; having my shoes get dirty all the time; having my apartment be dirty all the time. No amount of caution or cleaning can help you when it's in the air.
7. Cockroaches
*Shudder* 'Nuff said.
6. Scootering in the rain
I love scootering--when it's nice out. When it's not, well...just see the last post I wrote on the subject. Being the constant subject of showers of street water is not exactly my idea of a good time.
5. Not being able to find potatoes on any menu, ever
I love potatoes. When asked my favorite food, that is usually my answer. So, when the only variety you can ever find them in is french fried, and that rarely, I get a little sad. And then a lot sad. Really, Taiwan, you're missing out on an amazing food here!
4. Being surrounded by bad drivers on poorly designed streets
I've written before my conclusions of why scootering in Taiwan is so difficult. Several times, actually. What it boils down to is this: badly designed roads and people who don't pay attention to things like right-of-way or the traffic laws. I won't miss that. (And yes, I realize that in conjunction with what I said yesterday, this makes me a massive hypocrite. I don't care.)
3. Having bones and skin and fat make up the majority of every "meat" dish on any menu
In America, we like our meat as meat only: no skin (too much fat!), no bones (too much work!), no fat (see "no skin"). In Taiwan, they're much better about not wasting things (and/or have less of a market for our other uses for these materials, like hot dogs, perhaps?), and so a slab of "meat" is never a slab: it's a little crosscut of a bone, whichever bone they had handy; your job is to get the bits off it that you like and leave the rest. I will like having "meat" mean just "meat" again.
2. Being drenched in sweat within 5 minutes of walking outside
I'm from the Pacific Northwest. I don't particularly like sweating, and less still do I like having heat dictate how I dress and how I look--that is, never well. I get quite excited in Taiwan when I'm being picked up (in a car!!) to go somewhere inside (air-conditioning!!), and so can do things like put on makeup and do my hair without the knowledge that it will all be for naught the instant I put on my scooter helmet or walk the few blocks to wherever I'm going.
1. Not being able to communicate above a very basic level
I've written about this more times than I can count, and certainly more times than I'd like to cross-reference for you now: it is so terribly hard sometimes not to be able to talk to most of the people you come across.Your world becomes very small, excepting the Internet, consisting of the few friends you have that speak English and the few places where you know you can communicate in Chinese--some well-trusted restaurants, for instance, and a single bank. Going anywhere else or doing anything else requires a massive effort, and even when you make that effort, is often incredibly frustrating and may or may not end in success. One very small example is in the realm of small talk, which I wrote about before--I feel so rude not making small talk with people I come across! And yet, the terrible truth is that, at least at the moment, I have no choice in Taiwan. And I won't miss that.
Showing posts with label Taiwanese food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Taiwanese food. Show all posts
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Happy Sad Anniversary
One year ago today, I walked home from my last undergraduate final exam and opened my inbox to find the most important email of my life: the email announcing I had gotten the Fulbright. I was blown away.
Or, technically, what the letter said was that I should call Jonathan Akeley at my earliest convenience to discuss the status of my Fulbright grant; and, technically, what I was was frozen stiff, then spurred to frenetic energy as I dug through my drawers looking for older correspondence, and then frozen stiff again. But you get the picture.
I don't know if I've mentioned it on here before, but I was actually an alternate to come to Taiwan. That means that in April, when everyone else here was getting their life-changing letters, jumping up and down with joy and calling their friends and family to share the good news--and believe me, they all remember the precise moment they got their letters, we've compared notes--I got, instead, the deflating news that I had gone from "recommended candidate" to "alternate." That was all the information I was given--that I was an alternate, and that, if someone backed out or they got more funding, I might get to go. There was no mention of the likelihood of that happening; nor did they tell me whether I had a dozen people before me on the alternate list, or if I was the first.
As it happened, the latter. But the not-knowing that plagued my April-June was one of the biggest testings I've faced so far, and the pay-off was easily the best. One year later, I cannot fathom what my life would have been like if today had passed like any other, consigning me forever to the phantasmal status of alternate.
I suppose it's fitting, then, that today featured our unofficial LET-ETA Farewell Potluck. One year ago today, I learned that I would have the opportunity to come to Taiwan and meet and work with hundreds of wonderful people; today, I began to learn what it is to say goodbye to them.
The existence of the potluck, and the number of people who came, actually says a lot about our group. See, we had had an official farewell dinner planned for all the ETAs, LETs, and host families. Then it got cancelled, thanks to budget cuts. At our last Wednesday workshop, they gave us the microphones--and all anyone could talk about was how much we wanted a real goodbye, funded or not. So potluck it was!
And I'm so glad it was. For a strictly voluntary event on a weekend night, a huge number of people showed up--and, Taiwan being Taiwan, way more than enough food. I spent the night shifting around the room and chatting, and in addition to chilling with the other ETAs (which we've done surprisingly little of this year) and with Maggie, Alison and Patty (ALWAYS a pleasure), I got to catch up with several of the LETs, like Kiwi and Karen, with whom I'd loved to hang out back during orientation, but hadn't been able to see much of since then. And, of course, I ate myself sick.
I can't help but think how perfect the timing was that our potluck should be today, exactly one year after I found out I was coming here. What a perfect way to celebrate, and to remind myself of the possible outcome of a period of intense uncertainty--which, incidentally, is also what I'm dealing with right now in regards to the coming year.
Today ushers in a new year for me, one with many goodbyes to be made, but also many hellos which I don't know about yet. And, as sad as the goodbyes are, and will be, the best possible way to look at them is in light of the fact that they can be made--that I met all these wonderful people in the first place. Thank you all for a fantastic year, and thank you, Fulbright, for changing my life with a single email sent one year ago today.
Or, technically, what the letter said was that I should call Jonathan Akeley at my earliest convenience to discuss the status of my Fulbright grant; and, technically, what I was was frozen stiff, then spurred to frenetic energy as I dug through my drawers looking for older correspondence, and then frozen stiff again. But you get the picture.
I don't know if I've mentioned it on here before, but I was actually an alternate to come to Taiwan. That means that in April, when everyone else here was getting their life-changing letters, jumping up and down with joy and calling their friends and family to share the good news--and believe me, they all remember the precise moment they got their letters, we've compared notes--I got, instead, the deflating news that I had gone from "recommended candidate" to "alternate." That was all the information I was given--that I was an alternate, and that, if someone backed out or they got more funding, I might get to go. There was no mention of the likelihood of that happening; nor did they tell me whether I had a dozen people before me on the alternate list, or if I was the first.
As it happened, the latter. But the not-knowing that plagued my April-June was one of the biggest testings I've faced so far, and the pay-off was easily the best. One year later, I cannot fathom what my life would have been like if today had passed like any other, consigning me forever to the phantasmal status of alternate.
I suppose it's fitting, then, that today featured our unofficial LET-ETA Farewell Potluck. One year ago today, I learned that I would have the opportunity to come to Taiwan and meet and work with hundreds of wonderful people; today, I began to learn what it is to say goodbye to them.
The existence of the potluck, and the number of people who came, actually says a lot about our group. See, we had had an official farewell dinner planned for all the ETAs, LETs, and host families. Then it got cancelled, thanks to budget cuts. At our last Wednesday workshop, they gave us the microphones--and all anyone could talk about was how much we wanted a real goodbye, funded or not. So potluck it was!
And I'm so glad it was. For a strictly voluntary event on a weekend night, a huge number of people showed up--and, Taiwan being Taiwan, way more than enough food. I spent the night shifting around the room and chatting, and in addition to chilling with the other ETAs (which we've done surprisingly little of this year) and with Maggie, Alison and Patty (ALWAYS a pleasure), I got to catch up with several of the LETs, like Kiwi and Karen, with whom I'd loved to hang out back during orientation, but hadn't been able to see much of since then. And, of course, I ate myself sick.
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| Foooooooood |
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| Pictured: Patty succeeding in getting Analicia to try the duck blood rice. Brittany is still being persuaded. I held strong. |
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| Lovely people!...many of whom I didn't know were in the picture until I uploaded it. In a crowded room, pictures grow as soon as you start posing! |
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| I love these people so much! |
Today ushers in a new year for me, one with many goodbyes to be made, but also many hellos which I don't know about yet. And, as sad as the goodbyes are, and will be, the best possible way to look at them is in light of the fact that they can be made--that I met all these wonderful people in the first place. Thank you all for a fantastic year, and thank you, Fulbright, for changing my life with a single email sent one year ago today.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Peanut butter and stinky tofu
This was originally going to be a long, complex, drawn-out post on culinary and cultural sensibilities. Then my dear dear friend from home, Flavia, got on Skype and an absolutely wonderful, and necessary, conversation ensued. It is now midnight. Hence, this post just got preemptively abbreviated.
Peanut butter. Quick, name the single most common allergy for kids in the United States. Peanut butter, right? OK, so that may actually be the second most common, after milk, but still! I worked as a nanny for four years and as a childcare provider in various other forms for pretty much as long as I can remember (I started helping at church when I was just 10 myself), and one of the biggest taboos in every childcare setting in America is never bring anything having to do with peanuts anywhere with kids, ever (unless they're your own and you just want a PPJ in the privacy of your own home, but even then you should be careful).
Which is why today, I had a minor freakout when I realized that the jam I was bringing for our blind taste test (this week's vocabulary: jam, pepper, salt, butter, sugar, ketchup) had been contaminated by peanut butter. (Because, really, why dirty two knives?)
I brought it to school anyway, though, after carefully getting the jam from the bottom of the jar without disturbing the potentially contaminated bits on top (never an easy feat), and asked Maggie that we ask the kids to make sure no one was allergic before doing anything with the jam. Her reaction: huh?
Apparently, peanut allergies aren't really a thing here. In fact, we asked all of our five 5th grade classes today, and had not a single peanut allergy in the bunch. We had a few milk allergies (proving the point in the link above, I suppose), and so duly avoided the butter for them, but no one was allergic to peanuts! It was truly dumfounding.
Stinky tofu. This is a much more minor point; something that honestly could have fit in a Facebook status. It would have said "that moment when you're driving down the street and smell something that reminds you of delicious cheddar cheese. And then realize it's stinky tofu." I'm holding out some hope that there actually is a place on Zhongshan selling cheesy goodness, but it's unlikely. More probably, my sense of smell is officially shot to pieces by Taiwanese sensibilities.
Peanut butter. Quick, name the single most common allergy for kids in the United States. Peanut butter, right? OK, so that may actually be the second most common, after milk, but still! I worked as a nanny for four years and as a childcare provider in various other forms for pretty much as long as I can remember (I started helping at church when I was just 10 myself), and one of the biggest taboos in every childcare setting in America is never bring anything having to do with peanuts anywhere with kids, ever (unless they're your own and you just want a PPJ in the privacy of your own home, but even then you should be careful).
Which is why today, I had a minor freakout when I realized that the jam I was bringing for our blind taste test (this week's vocabulary: jam, pepper, salt, butter, sugar, ketchup) had been contaminated by peanut butter. (Because, really, why dirty two knives?)
I brought it to school anyway, though, after carefully getting the jam from the bottom of the jar without disturbing the potentially contaminated bits on top (never an easy feat), and asked Maggie that we ask the kids to make sure no one was allergic before doing anything with the jam. Her reaction: huh?
Apparently, peanut allergies aren't really a thing here. In fact, we asked all of our five 5th grade classes today, and had not a single peanut allergy in the bunch. We had a few milk allergies (proving the point in the link above, I suppose), and so duly avoided the butter for them, but no one was allergic to peanuts! It was truly dumfounding.
Stinky tofu. This is a much more minor point; something that honestly could have fit in a Facebook status. It would have said "that moment when you're driving down the street and smell something that reminds you of delicious cheddar cheese. And then realize it's stinky tofu." I'm holding out some hope that there actually is a place on Zhongshan selling cheesy goodness, but it's unlikely. More probably, my sense of smell is officially shot to pieces by Taiwanese sensibilities.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Inside-Outside-In
Culture shock. I haven't written about it in a very, very long time--since January, unless you count my recent musings on perspective shift, which I don't. The reason why I've stopped is pretty obvious: I have ceased to be shocked by the culture.
Sure, I still notice little quirks like misspelled shirts and "Indian"-Spanish-Chinese singers at Taiwanese holiday celebrations. But I'm pretty sure I'd notice those no matter where I was. The huge in-your-face cultural differences are now pretty much invisible to me, something I had somewhat forgotten and have recently been reminded of, since Ingrid came to join our little Hanmin teaching family and I got to see her reactions to them.
In fact, I now believe I've been in Taiwanese culture enough to somewhat internalize it. How did I come to this conclusion? Well, apart from all the not-exactly-ironic peace sign posing I've been doing for months...
Today I realized (thanks to a Facebook post by one of my ETA colleagues in Yilan, Lauren) that I have also been incorporating the culture into my daily life on a more subtle level. Here's the link that prompted this realization.
Yes, it's a meme of Asians taking pictures of their food. It's pretty accurate; whenever I actually pay attention at restaurants (Rachel's especially good at noticing this), I see people everywhere with their cameras out and pointed alternately at themselves and at their food. Rachel told me she and Brittany saw one person in Taipei taking a picture of herself with...her fork. Pictures of food, and food-related objects and poses, are all over here.
And let's see...what have I been writing about lately? Constantly; almost obsessively, in fact? ALWAYS with pictures? Here I was thinking it was about my American culture, but as it turns out, it may just be a result of my sneaking internalization of the local culture. To say "hello" in Taiwanese, after all, you literally say "have you eaten"! Food is absolutely central to Taiwanese culture. So, really, why does this realization surprise me?
Maybe because it's such a perfect cohesion of American and Taiwanese cultures; I never saw it coming. I may do a whole series on how much I miss sandwiches, but the fact is I've taken food, something I never paid all that much attention to in the States, and elevated it to one of my most common subjects.
Fulbright talks ad nauseum about our role as cultural ambassadors and as "a bridge between cultures." And, well, I suppose you can't get much more bridge-like than by complexly intertwining American and Taiwanese cultures; combining external and internal elements and placing them, subconsciously, in your day-to-day life. Is it outside? Is it in? The answer is like that of Schroedinger's cat: yes.
Sure, I still notice little quirks like misspelled shirts and "Indian"-Spanish-Chinese singers at Taiwanese holiday celebrations. But I'm pretty sure I'd notice those no matter where I was. The huge in-your-face cultural differences are now pretty much invisible to me, something I had somewhat forgotten and have recently been reminded of, since Ingrid came to join our little Hanmin teaching family and I got to see her reactions to them.
In fact, I now believe I've been in Taiwanese culture enough to somewhat internalize it. How did I come to this conclusion? Well, apart from all the not-exactly-ironic peace sign posing I've been doing for months...
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| January... |
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| March... |
Yes, it's a meme of Asians taking pictures of their food. It's pretty accurate; whenever I actually pay attention at restaurants (Rachel's especially good at noticing this), I see people everywhere with their cameras out and pointed alternately at themselves and at their food. Rachel told me she and Brittany saw one person in Taipei taking a picture of herself with...her fork. Pictures of food, and food-related objects and poses, are all over here.
And let's see...what have I been writing about lately? Constantly; almost obsessively, in fact? ALWAYS with pictures? Here I was thinking it was about my American culture, but as it turns out, it may just be a result of my sneaking internalization of the local culture. To say "hello" in Taiwanese, after all, you literally say "have you eaten"! Food is absolutely central to Taiwanese culture. So, really, why does this realization surprise me?
Maybe because it's such a perfect cohesion of American and Taiwanese cultures; I never saw it coming. I may do a whole series on how much I miss sandwiches, but the fact is I've taken food, something I never paid all that much attention to in the States, and elevated it to one of my most common subjects.
Fulbright talks ad nauseum about our role as cultural ambassadors and as "a bridge between cultures." And, well, I suppose you can't get much more bridge-like than by complexly intertwining American and Taiwanese cultures; combining external and internal elements and placing them, subconsciously, in your day-to-day life. Is it outside? Is it in? The answer is like that of Schroedinger's cat: yes.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
What do you eat?
For some reason, this question never fails to stump me. I've gotten it a lot since living in Taiwan, in different variations--"What do you eat for dinner here?" "What did you eat at home?" "What do Americans usually eat?"--and I never know how to answer.
I had the same problem at home--I would say I cooked for myself, and when people asked what, I would answer with an oh-so-dignified "Uhhhhh...." followed by something equally inane, like "chicken?"
Obviously, I eat. I would even go so far as to say that I eat pretty well, with a decent, though not chef-worthy, level of variety of meats and veggies and cuisines. But what are they, exactly? That, I couldn't say.
Some categories are easy: spaghetti, stir fry, meat and potatoes, salads, breads, tacos, soups, sandwiches. Beyond that, I often rely on a few steady cuisines: Italian, Thai, Mexican, some sort of "fusion" American (though I'll be the first to admit I have no idea what that means).
The problem, especially here, is that when I'm asked what I eat at home and the first things that come to mind are spaghetti and stir fry (which, in all honesty, I eat maybe once every two weeks), I'm then hard-pressed to explain to my Taiwanese friends why, exactly, I miss food from home. After all, most brunch shops here offer spaghetti, as do numerous other Western restaurants; as for stir fry, you'd be hard-pressed to go more than a few blocks here without hitting a dedicated restaurant. So why, they ask, and rightly so, do I miss food from home?
And that's where I get stuck. Why is it so hard to explain that everything, from the raw materials to the seasonings to the preparation methods, are different here? Or to mention how vastly the absence of things like convection ovens and non-American cheese (ironically the local favorite) affect one's ability to cook? Even now, I have a Taiwanese chocolate pudding in my fridge--a "pudding" the preparation for which required only water, not milk, and whose final consistency is closer to that of strawberry Jell-O than real, American-style pudding.
And what do Americans eat at home? As I tell my questioners, the answer to that is simply too vast for me to touch on. Americans eat everything. Every cuisine, tweaked a bit and catered to the American palate, shows up on American plates on a regular basis. Sure, here people may frequently treat themselves to other cuisines, but I don't think they realize just how prevalent other cuisines are in American foods.
One reason for this, of course, is that without other cuisines America doesn't have one--we have, after all, defined ourselves as a nation of internal immigrants, each of whom brought their own unique flavors with them when they moved. It's what makes American cuisine so nebulous and hard to pin down as anything other than diverse--and what makes answering "what do you eat?" such a ticklish task.
Unless, of course, you narrow it down to a simpler question, like "what did you eat today?" And that one, today, was a fun one for me to answer, as well as one that highlights America's culinary diversity. Today, I celebrated my aunt and uncle's family by cooking a dish that originated in their adoptive country of Bolivia. I didn't have potatoes today to round out the dish, but I did have the other component parts (beef, rice, eggs, salsa) that make up the wonderfulness that is SILPANCHO!
So yes, I miss the deliciously bad for you and fantastically diverse cuisine of America. And what do I eat? Well, today, I eat silpancho!
I had the same problem at home--I would say I cooked for myself, and when people asked what, I would answer with an oh-so-dignified "Uhhhhh...." followed by something equally inane, like "chicken?"
Obviously, I eat. I would even go so far as to say that I eat pretty well, with a decent, though not chef-worthy, level of variety of meats and veggies and cuisines. But what are they, exactly? That, I couldn't say.
Some categories are easy: spaghetti, stir fry, meat and potatoes, salads, breads, tacos, soups, sandwiches. Beyond that, I often rely on a few steady cuisines: Italian, Thai, Mexican, some sort of "fusion" American (though I'll be the first to admit I have no idea what that means).
The problem, especially here, is that when I'm asked what I eat at home and the first things that come to mind are spaghetti and stir fry (which, in all honesty, I eat maybe once every two weeks), I'm then hard-pressed to explain to my Taiwanese friends why, exactly, I miss food from home. After all, most brunch shops here offer spaghetti, as do numerous other Western restaurants; as for stir fry, you'd be hard-pressed to go more than a few blocks here without hitting a dedicated restaurant. So why, they ask, and rightly so, do I miss food from home?
And that's where I get stuck. Why is it so hard to explain that everything, from the raw materials to the seasonings to the preparation methods, are different here? Or to mention how vastly the absence of things like convection ovens and non-American cheese (ironically the local favorite) affect one's ability to cook? Even now, I have a Taiwanese chocolate pudding in my fridge--a "pudding" the preparation for which required only water, not milk, and whose final consistency is closer to that of strawberry Jell-O than real, American-style pudding.
And what do Americans eat at home? As I tell my questioners, the answer to that is simply too vast for me to touch on. Americans eat everything. Every cuisine, tweaked a bit and catered to the American palate, shows up on American plates on a regular basis. Sure, here people may frequently treat themselves to other cuisines, but I don't think they realize just how prevalent other cuisines are in American foods.
One reason for this, of course, is that without other cuisines America doesn't have one--we have, after all, defined ourselves as a nation of internal immigrants, each of whom brought their own unique flavors with them when they moved. It's what makes American cuisine so nebulous and hard to pin down as anything other than diverse--and what makes answering "what do you eat?" such a ticklish task.
Unless, of course, you narrow it down to a simpler question, like "what did you eat today?" And that one, today, was a fun one for me to answer, as well as one that highlights America's culinary diversity. Today, I celebrated my aunt and uncle's family by cooking a dish that originated in their adoptive country of Bolivia. I didn't have potatoes today to round out the dish, but I did have the other component parts (beef, rice, eggs, salsa) that make up the wonderfulness that is SILPANCHO!
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| (The rice is under the meat patty, which is under the egg) |
Monday, March 19, 2012
Simple Twists, Great Day
Today was a great mix of new and established, and Western and Taiwanese. It was my ordinary routine, with a few necessary tweaks that simultaneously confirmed and utterly transformed my day.
To begin with, I started the day on the couch (Kaitlin's still jet lagged and I have a twin bed), awakened by the unfamiliar sounds of Brittany's alarm clock and Analicia asking if I needed to shower any time soon. I then got ready for the day in the living room and bathroom, and went down to 7-11 for a very Taiwanese breakfast at the counter.
Then I went to school. After what began as a hectic morning--until this morning I had forgotten to prepare some pictures of people wearing different items of clothing for an in-class game, so I came to school with blank pages, a fistful of markers and sheer determination--classes went wonderfully, and I was even able to nail down the details for tutoring the son of a home room teacher at Hanmin. Just a great day, really, as my memory lapse taught me the (perhaps not so great) lesson that I am still capable of pulling things through at the last second, if need be.
Also at school, I was the very grateful recipient of my very own set of wedding cake! See, in Taiwan, that's the tradition: when a woman gets engaged, she gives all the women she knows a box of cake. (Incidentally, the groom is the one paying for this, yet his friends get nothing...) And, since Hanmin's principal's daughter got formally engaged this weekend, I was somehow included on the list! And it was quite the box of cake:
At home, I met up with Kaitlin, who'd had a great recovery day and even ventured out into the city unarmed to explore and buy coffee, and we took a stroll down to Wu Pao Chun bakery (the line was too long, though, so we left), then grabbed some delicious tea (Kaitlin's first real Taiwanese bubble tea!) and set out for Chialing's for sumptuous noodles.
Then came Chinese class where Kaitlin, good sport that she is, was willing to sit with us for 2 hours before we set out for the night market.
An hour later, we found it. A combination of miscommunications--my mistaking which market would be open tonight, and a wrong turn on Zhonghua--took us nearly to Zuoying, then back to our starting point at Sanmin, then to Zhongshan as far north as Kaohsiung Arena. Eventually, I found the night market I had meant, Rueifong--and discovered that it was closed. By a marvelous stroke of luck, though, our ride home took us straight past Liouhe--aka the market my teacher had tried to direct me to, the biggest in Kaohsiung and one that was actually open on a Monday night.
So, fail-fail, win-win. All in the course of an hour. And at least Kaitlin got a nice little tour out of it!
To begin with, I started the day on the couch (Kaitlin's still jet lagged and I have a twin bed), awakened by the unfamiliar sounds of Brittany's alarm clock and Analicia asking if I needed to shower any time soon. I then got ready for the day in the living room and bathroom, and went down to 7-11 for a very Taiwanese breakfast at the counter.
Then I went to school. After what began as a hectic morning--until this morning I had forgotten to prepare some pictures of people wearing different items of clothing for an in-class game, so I came to school with blank pages, a fistful of markers and sheer determination--classes went wonderfully, and I was even able to nail down the details for tutoring the son of a home room teacher at Hanmin. Just a great day, really, as my memory lapse taught me the (perhaps not so great) lesson that I am still capable of pulling things through at the last second, if need be.
Also at school, I was the very grateful recipient of my very own set of wedding cake! See, in Taiwan, that's the tradition: when a woman gets engaged, she gives all the women she knows a box of cake. (Incidentally, the groom is the one paying for this, yet his friends get nothing...) And, since Hanmin's principal's daughter got formally engaged this weekend, I was somehow included on the list! And it was quite the box of cake:
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| The box is probably 10" x 10" by 5" or so. |
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| And the contents: candy, cookies, and a large "cake" which seems to contain some sort of meat/seafood and onions, based on Rachel's label-reading... |
Then came Chinese class where Kaitlin, good sport that she is, was willing to sit with us for 2 hours before we set out for the night market.
An hour later, we found it. A combination of miscommunications--my mistaking which market would be open tonight, and a wrong turn on Zhonghua--took us nearly to Zuoying, then back to our starting point at Sanmin, then to Zhongshan as far north as Kaohsiung Arena. Eventually, I found the night market I had meant, Rueifong--and discovered that it was closed. By a marvelous stroke of luck, though, our ride home took us straight past Liouhe--aka the market my teacher had tried to direct me to, the biggest in Kaohsiung and one that was actually open on a Monday night.
So, fail-fail, win-win. All in the course of an hour. And at least Kaitlin got a nice little tour out of it!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Oh hey there, Taichung!
Absolutely wonderful. As I type this, I'm laying on my bed at the gorgeous Evergreen Laurel Hotel in Taichung, as my host sister Emily checks her Facebook on her phone on the other bed. What a glorious day!
As is usually the case when I had a great day of sightseeing, I don't particularly want to describe it in full detail, but, unlike most of those days, I have my memory chip already in my computer and ready to pull pictures at will, so even with minimal description, this post should give you a good idea of my day.
To begin with, of course, I had school, where Patty and I taught food-related words to the 5th graders, repeating "Coca-Cola" enough times to brainwash myself into buying one after class (true story), and engaging each class in a debate as to whether soup is a drink or a food (Taiwanese say drink, Americans say food!).
Then I came home, and had the treat of being able to talk to both my cousin, Julia, and my Mom and Dad, before throwing some clothes in an overnight bag and running downstairs to meet James, Margaret, and Emily.
And then it was off for Taichung! But not, of course, without a stop at the whimsical Ceramics Art Village in Chiayi. It was charming with everything made of ceramics and with benches of every ilk:
A quick car ride away, we stopped at a Taiwanese antique attraction, which also featured...a turkey. With territorial issues.
There, we snacked on roasted (smoked? Not quite sure, actually) yams/sweet potatoes (also not sure on that one...) before moving on towards Taichung. A quick service area stop and a delicious IRISH CREAM (first time I've ever seen that flavor here) latte for me later, we hit our destination, and I took in my first impressions of the heart of Taichung, which oddly reminded me more of its larger neighbor Taipei than of closer-sized Kaohsiung.
On arriving at our hotel, I discovered that it is GORGEOUS! I mean really, truly, absolutely gorgeous, and one of the nicest hotel's I've ever stayed at. I am so grateful to be here now.
Perhaps as a result of that gorgeousness, we found that our fellow residents are largely foreign, of the Western-and-Japanese variety. Looking around the hotel lobby, I was met by face after white face. It was eery. You don't notice it while it's happening, but living in a country where you stick out like a sore thumb brings you to the point where something seems wrong if you don't. Seeing foreigner after foreigner after foreigner is just too weird to me now! I don't know what I'll do when I make it back to America.
Anyway. We settled in and headed to Feng Chia night market, the largest in Taiwan with 1,600 stands, for dinner. We had pizza--in a cone. Quite good. And then, after Emily and Margaret ate a local delicacy consisting of a hot dog inside a sausage, and Emily got a delicious-smelling chicken-and-cheese concoction--I was too full to partake, this time anyway--I grabbed a five-fruit juice and then Margaret and I each got hot sweet soup with sticky rice. Lovely!
So that was my wonderful day. On the agenda for tomorrow: more amazing times with my host family.
As is usually the case when I had a great day of sightseeing, I don't particularly want to describe it in full detail, but, unlike most of those days, I have my memory chip already in my computer and ready to pull pictures at will, so even with minimal description, this post should give you a good idea of my day.
To begin with, of course, I had school, where Patty and I taught food-related words to the 5th graders, repeating "Coca-Cola" enough times to brainwash myself into buying one after class (true story), and engaging each class in a debate as to whether soup is a drink or a food (Taiwanese say drink, Americans say food!).
Then I came home, and had the treat of being able to talk to both my cousin, Julia, and my Mom and Dad, before throwing some clothes in an overnight bag and running downstairs to meet James, Margaret, and Emily.
And then it was off for Taichung! But not, of course, without a stop at the whimsical Ceramics Art Village in Chiayi. It was charming with everything made of ceramics and with benches of every ilk:
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| A cow... |
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| A basketball... |
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| Yes, that's a full-sized ceramic TREE! |
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| Different sort of ceramic cow--way more fun to sit on :) |
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| It's a ceramic phoenix! |
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| ...and a real, live rooster that came out of nowhere. |
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| James had some fun with it :) |
On arriving at our hotel, I discovered that it is GORGEOUS! I mean really, truly, absolutely gorgeous, and one of the nicest hotel's I've ever stayed at. I am so grateful to be here now.
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| Emily's and my room tonight--yeah, that's a full-on sitting area at the end, and this isn't the whole room :) |
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| Pictured: pizza in a cone, going into a cone-shaped hole in an oven |
Anyway. We settled in and headed to Feng Chia night market, the largest in Taiwan with 1,600 stands, for dinner. We had pizza--in a cone. Quite good. And then, after Emily and Margaret ate a local delicacy consisting of a hot dog inside a sausage, and Emily got a delicious-smelling chicken-and-cheese concoction--I was too full to partake, this time anyway--I grabbed a five-fruit juice and then Margaret and I each got hot sweet soup with sticky rice. Lovely!
So that was my wonderful day. On the agenda for tomorrow: more amazing times with my host family.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Blessings and pain...and a party
I've been looking back through my photos from this year, and realizing just how much I've been blessed lately.
I know that probably looks bizarre and/or egotistical in print, but please don't take it that way. That's not my intention at all. It's just that, going along my merry business here in Taiwan, exploring the countryside, getting to know my host family and co-teachers, celebrating the holidays (all of them, Western and Taiwanese) here, and puddle-jumping over to Thailand for a bit, I caught myself losing sight of what an enormous privilege it is for me to be here in the stress and little details--and that is completely unacceptable. Day-to-day life can sometimes obscure the fact by its sheer inanity, but the truth is that I am enormously blessed to be here, and I don't want to forget that. It's humbling.
So, rather than yammer on about the minutiae of my daily life, I thought I'd offer up this blog as a thank-you. Because, ultimately, the navel-gazing that this blog sometimes (unfortunately) becomes has no place in the midst of all these blessings. They have nothing to do with me, and I am not in the slightest bit worthy of them. All I can do is look back at them and be grateful for the opportunities I have been given.
If you've made it this far in the blog, you've realized that I'm in a contemplative mood; that means that, even when looking at my blessings here, I can't help but look at the things (or, more accurately, people) missing. Like my brothers. And my parents. And my friends in Corvallis and Seattle and Eugene--and Chicago and DC and everywhere else they've scattered to that I don't even know about, thanks to my own round-the-globe move. I miss them acutely tonight, for no apparent reason other than that I do.
So there it is: the two-edged sword of my existence here. Humblingly great experiences coupled with the neverending knowledge of something missing. I wish they could be separated, but they can't.
...
Lest you think I'm getting too emo on you, though, here it is, today's one new thing!
Thing 12:
I went to a party at Professor Spring's house! This was new on several levels, really:
So yeah. Pretty great evening.
I know that probably looks bizarre and/or egotistical in print, but please don't take it that way. That's not my intention at all. It's just that, going along my merry business here in Taiwan, exploring the countryside, getting to know my host family and co-teachers, celebrating the holidays (all of them, Western and Taiwanese) here, and puddle-jumping over to Thailand for a bit, I caught myself losing sight of what an enormous privilege it is for me to be here in the stress and little details--and that is completely unacceptable. Day-to-day life can sometimes obscure the fact by its sheer inanity, but the truth is that I am enormously blessed to be here, and I don't want to forget that. It's humbling.
So, rather than yammer on about the minutiae of my daily life, I thought I'd offer up this blog as a thank-you. Because, ultimately, the navel-gazing that this blog sometimes (unfortunately) becomes has no place in the midst of all these blessings. They have nothing to do with me, and I am not in the slightest bit worthy of them. All I can do is look back at them and be grateful for the opportunities I have been given.
If you've made it this far in the blog, you've realized that I'm in a contemplative mood; that means that, even when looking at my blessings here, I can't help but look at the things (or, more accurately, people) missing. Like my brothers. And my parents. And my friends in Corvallis and Seattle and Eugene--and Chicago and DC and everywhere else they've scattered to that I don't even know about, thanks to my own round-the-globe move. I miss them acutely tonight, for no apparent reason other than that I do.
So there it is: the two-edged sword of my existence here. Humblingly great experiences coupled with the neverending knowledge of something missing. I wish they could be separated, but they can't.
...
Lest you think I'm getting too emo on you, though, here it is, today's one new thing!
Thing 12:
I went to a party at Professor Spring's house! This was new on several levels, really:
- I am on a party-attending, first-name-using, almost-peer basis with a professor;
- I attended a party hosted by a Taiwanese person who is not a member of my host family;
- I rode in an elevator with a dog (Spring has 3; 2 were there, and we wanted to see the roof!);
- I saw fireworks over the Love River (from a distance, of course);
- There are probably several more reasons but I'm too tired to think of them right now.
So yeah. Pretty great evening.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Little Things
When Karina and her mom asked me, this evening, what I did today, I couldn't easily give them an answer. In truth, what I did today is almost identical to what I did yesterday; here, for those interested, is the link to the third and final installment of my pictures from Thailand:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2658116619440.2114778.1451610020&type=1&l=a33c460429
Apart from that, the highlight of my day came at dinner, which gave way to a series of small one new things, so here it is:
Thing 11:
Very, very small new things. I ate at Chialing's, where I've eaten many times because her cooking is just so fabulously good, but even so, I sought out new things where I could. I took a different route, and discovered along the way any number of little shops that I still need to try sometime.
Once there, Chialing was beyond busy, but she was still able to recommend for me something new to eat, a simply scrumptious noodle dish with meat and some sort of pickled cabbage on top, together with an egg, which I cooked for myself, as the Taiwanese patrons looked on. Quite shocked them, I believe. In any case, the resulting meal was easily the best I've had since being back in Taiwan, and I think it has permanently supplanted my previous standbys at Chialing's. And it's a new thing!
The other very small new things of the evening were a oh-so-creamy honeydew melon ice cream/yogurt that I had for dessert, and nonfat milk, of all things--I've rarely seen it here in Taiwan, and never purchased it, until tonight. Quite tasty, these two things, and quite small, but new!
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2658116619440.2114778.1451610020&type=1&l=a33c460429
Apart from that, the highlight of my day came at dinner, which gave way to a series of small one new things, so here it is:
Thing 11:
Very, very small new things. I ate at Chialing's, where I've eaten many times because her cooking is just so fabulously good, but even so, I sought out new things where I could. I took a different route, and discovered along the way any number of little shops that I still need to try sometime.
Once there, Chialing was beyond busy, but she was still able to recommend for me something new to eat, a simply scrumptious noodle dish with meat and some sort of pickled cabbage on top, together with an egg, which I cooked for myself, as the Taiwanese patrons looked on. Quite shocked them, I believe. In any case, the resulting meal was easily the best I've had since being back in Taiwan, and I think it has permanently supplanted my previous standbys at Chialing's. And it's a new thing!
The other very small new things of the evening were a oh-so-creamy honeydew melon ice cream/yogurt that I had for dessert, and nonfat milk, of all things--I've rarely seen it here in Taiwan, and never purchased it, until tonight. Quite tasty, these two things, and quite small, but new!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Shifting
As I noted earlier, I slept until 10am today.
But that was the end of my non-productivity. After that, I was on a roll, still in Thailand adventure mode, but now in Kaohsiung, and so putting that energy towards productive things like unpacking, doing laundry, running errands, backing up my hard drive, uploading photos (but not editing yet--sorry, they'll be up soon!), etc etc. This, of course, contributed to several one new things. And, as it's late now, I'll just throw out a few before I hit the sack.
Thing 7:
I tried a "Mexican cake" at Brunch, across the street. I've been assuming it was a quesadilla for a few months now, but had never gotten around to trying it. Today, when I told the cashier I wanted the cheese one, she said it was "甜的," or sweet, which confused me like crazy (partly because I had gone over a week without using my Chinese; partly because why would a quesadilla be sweet?) and she suggested I do the chicken one instead. The chicken one, as it turned out, was like a quesadilla--chicken, peppers and onions in a folded grilled tortilla--but without the queso. I mean seriously, no cheese in a quesadilla? What is this! Good, actually--just not as good as I'd expected from this fabled Mexican cake.
Thing 8:
I went to the post office! Funny thing, it's literally three blocks from my apartment, jammed in between several places I frequent often (grocery store, favorite Taiwanese restaurant; a block from the fruit stand), but I had never noticed it before. I asked Fonda where the nearest post office was a few weeks back, and even with the street name I looked for it across the street at first and was (obviously) disappointed.
But today I went! And discovered that mail here is so-so on pricing, and that simply saying "美國" (America) and shoving a pile of letters at the postal worker works perfectly well to communicate that you want to send them to America. Also of note is that the post office is actually 2/3 bank, 1/3 post office, and that none of the stamps (or envelopes) here have their own adhesive, so my trip today involved standing at the counter with a glue stick affixing each stamp individually to my already-taped envelopes, as dozens of people sat behind me waiting to deposit money in their savings accounts.
Thing 9:
I went to TGIFridays! I don't think I've actually even been to one in the States before; I noticed it here my first week in Kaohsiung, and earmarked it as somewhere to go when I needed Western food, but had never followed through on the idea. Until today, when Rachel's mom Barbara invited me to join them! We had a delicious meal of shared appetizers (real quesadillas, potato skins, and chicken fingers), salads (chicken Caesar for Rachel; steak for Rachel's mom and I), drinks, and to-go molten chocolate cake for Rachel and I. Delicious, and fantastic when coupled with a great conversation! I'll have to go back sometime.
Well, that's it for tonight. Lots of photos to edit tomorrow, and another retrospective blogpost to write--look for pictures, videos and more blogs on here then, as I keep shifting from Thai adventures to Taiwanese daily life.
But that was the end of my non-productivity. After that, I was on a roll, still in Thailand adventure mode, but now in Kaohsiung, and so putting that energy towards productive things like unpacking, doing laundry, running errands, backing up my hard drive, uploading photos (but not editing yet--sorry, they'll be up soon!), etc etc. This, of course, contributed to several one new things. And, as it's late now, I'll just throw out a few before I hit the sack.
Thing 7:
I tried a "Mexican cake" at Brunch, across the street. I've been assuming it was a quesadilla for a few months now, but had never gotten around to trying it. Today, when I told the cashier I wanted the cheese one, she said it was "甜的," or sweet, which confused me like crazy (partly because I had gone over a week without using my Chinese; partly because why would a quesadilla be sweet?) and she suggested I do the chicken one instead. The chicken one, as it turned out, was like a quesadilla--chicken, peppers and onions in a folded grilled tortilla--but without the queso. I mean seriously, no cheese in a quesadilla? What is this! Good, actually--just not as good as I'd expected from this fabled Mexican cake.
Thing 8:
I went to the post office! Funny thing, it's literally three blocks from my apartment, jammed in between several places I frequent often (grocery store, favorite Taiwanese restaurant; a block from the fruit stand), but I had never noticed it before. I asked Fonda where the nearest post office was a few weeks back, and even with the street name I looked for it across the street at first and was (obviously) disappointed.
But today I went! And discovered that mail here is so-so on pricing, and that simply saying "美國" (America) and shoving a pile of letters at the postal worker works perfectly well to communicate that you want to send them to America. Also of note is that the post office is actually 2/3 bank, 1/3 post office, and that none of the stamps (or envelopes) here have their own adhesive, so my trip today involved standing at the counter with a glue stick affixing each stamp individually to my already-taped envelopes, as dozens of people sat behind me waiting to deposit money in their savings accounts.
Thing 9:
I went to TGIFridays! I don't think I've actually even been to one in the States before; I noticed it here my first week in Kaohsiung, and earmarked it as somewhere to go when I needed Western food, but had never followed through on the idea. Until today, when Rachel's mom Barbara invited me to join them! We had a delicious meal of shared appetizers (real quesadillas, potato skins, and chicken fingers), salads (chicken Caesar for Rachel; steak for Rachel's mom and I), drinks, and to-go molten chocolate cake for Rachel and I. Delicious, and fantastic when coupled with a great conversation! I'll have to go back sometime.
Well, that's it for tonight. Lots of photos to edit tomorrow, and another retrospective blogpost to write--look for pictures, videos and more blogs on here then, as I keep shifting from Thai adventures to Taiwanese daily life.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Dumplings on Election Day
Tonight, incumbent Ma Ying-jeou beat out challenger Tsai Ying-wen to win a second term as President of Taiwan. (Note: I don't know enough to claim an opinion on this.) But, while I received updates of the race in real time from the TV, I have to admit my attention wasn't fully fixed on the screen, since I was spending the evening with my extended host family, making dumplings and learning Chinese out of a first grade Chinese textbook.
It was glorious.
Seriously, I've said it before, but I really REALLY love my host family and extended host family. There's a whole new level of comfort and amazingness with just hanging out at a three-generational gathering that counts you as one of them, whether you are biologically or not.
This time we went to my host cousins' house, which happens to be across the street from Margaret's parents' house, and when we got there they weren't home, leading to a search of the grandparents' house and several phone calls by Bunny, who was over visiting, to her parents. And all of this just served to confirm the wonderfulness of being part of a close-knit family, running back and forth and being comfortable enough to take off for tea when they're coming, and not mind in the slightest that you have to wait for a few minutes to get in.
And then we made dumplings. Mine weren't beautiful like my host aunt's were--of course, she does have a bit more practice, and had made several hundred this morning before we came--but they did at least beat out Jenny's, which tended to be flat and semi-circular, rather than rounded and crescent-shaped. Bunny taught me how to make them and then set me loose, and I had a ball, sitting around the kitchen table with all the women and girls in the family (momentarily distracted by all the international gender norms going on as the men sat in the room next door watching the election unfold) and shoving a mixture of pork, leek, onion and mushroom into little pre-made dough squares and folding and crimping the edges.
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| Finished! |
As we crimped the edges on the final dumpling, Jenny hauled us back into the living room, where we debated Monopoly or Uno for a while before choosing the latter, which we played until it was time to actually cook the dumplings, which we did (just plopped them in boiling water and put the lid on--so easy!) before resuming our game.
Dinner itself was scrumptious, and included not just our homemade dumplings, but some yummy curry Margaret had made, seafood pizza and roasted chicken from Costco (baby Mumu particularly enjoyed just putting her face down and gnawing on the chicken before it was served, seeing as it was positioned just so perfectly at her height), some soup which I was too full to taste, and vanilla pudding.
After our meal (and some initial prodding by her parents), Jenny set about to teach me Chinese. At first it was a group effort, with Margaret, Bunny, Jenny and their mom all drawing characters on both Bunny's Asus tablet and Mumu's play table (it has a magnetic drawing board with one of those slide erasers on it--and yes, I loved the vast gap between the technologies being used), as everyone shouted out various words or phrases for me to learn. Then, at Margaret's request, Jenny (who's 9, by the way) got out her old 1st grade Chinese book, and the lesson began in earnest.
Seriously, I've never had a more determined teacher. Together, we plowed through four complete lessons in the course of about an hour, and as I repeatedly mistook similar characters for each other (在 and 左, for instance), she would stop the lesson, pull out Mumu's table, and write each one in turn: "What's this? (writes 左)" "Zai?" "No." "Zuo?" "Yes." (draws 在) "What's this?" "Zai." "Yes." (repeats process several more times, pointing out the specific points where the characters vary and connecting their various radicals to other characters which I should, in theory, know).
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| And she's nine. Born teacher if I've ever seen one! |
Both her mom and Margaret helped her along, making her translate the little chants she was teaching me into English and say them for me to follow, so she could practice her English at the same time. And whenever I would forget a part of the chant--as I routinely did, given that I knew very few of the vocabulary words before this little lesson--she would frown and say "no English!" before launching into yet another explanation of what word I should be saying. "坐下来," for instance, not "something 下来." After a while, Margaret and her mom started urging her to leave off with the lesson, since there was no way I'd remember everything she was teaching me (truth), but she would not be deterred. Even when she was finally satisfied with my ability to recite lesson 4 without help, it took some persuading to keep her from going on to lesson 5, and she continued quizzing me on other things as we moved on to Wii.
The rest of the evening was spent losing various video games to Bunny and Jenny, with the whole family looking on. That, and a lot of fun family self-portraits.
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| Bunny has bunny ears. :) |
So yes, Taiwan re-elected a president today, as the world looked on. But for me, good or bad, that was hardly the highlight of the evening.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Late nights, early mornings
My mom is convinced that I'm a secret morning person, but nothing could be further from the truth. (In case you need convincing, check the time stamp on this blog post--I'm beginning it just after 2:30am.)
To some extent, this has worked to my advantage here, 16 hours ahead of the vast majority of my friends and family. In a course of cyclical reasoning, my family and the time difference are actually why I'm up right now: I've been Skyping with my mom, dad, and younger brother for a few hours, watching my mom's always-alert morning self in contrast with my brother's squinting just-woke-up face and my dad's slow ascent from awake to functioning, over the course of a cup of coffee. (Yep, that's where I got it from.)
But by all accounts, I shouldn't be up right now, since I was up late last night talking to family, too, but was still up early (for me) this morning, ready for a trip to Tainan with my wonderful host family and Rachel. The getting-ready process definitely involved chugging a bottled latte in 7-11 right as my host family pulled up, since I'm fresh out of coffee beans and I recently discovered my non-caffeinated propensity towards headaches.
We had a fabulous day, visiting such landmarks as the Eternal Golden Fort, Anping Old Fort, Anping Tree House (probably my favorite place EVER), Chihkan Tower, and the Confucius Temple. Unfortunately, we were dogged by what seemed to be a whole-city celebration of some Daoist deity's birthday, complete with a multi-pronged parade of gongs, drums, horns, incense and firecrackers--SO MANY FIRECRACKERS--but aside from that, the locations were gorgeous and the weather could not have been better. Rachel described it well by saying it reminded her of the first day after the snow melts in New Hampshire. I, of course, have never experienced that particular day, but it reminded me of the first day in May that reminds you that eventually summer will come. Glorious.
Of course, with any Taiwanese city, the main event is the food, and Tainan didn't disappoint. Their famous shrimp rolls, which I was a bit nervous to try, since I tend to steer clear of seafood, were absolutely DELICIOUS, tasting mostly of onion. So was the shaved ice we had later (though it tasted of strawberry and sweetened condensed milk, thankfully). And the coffin-cover bread with which we finished out the day.
Probably the highlight of my day was the Anping Tree House, which is actually an old warehouse from the early days of European-Asian trade which has been abandoned to the banyan trees, which in turn eagerly incorporated themselves into the floors, walls, windows and even roofs of the giant building. The even coils of banyan root run everywhere over the old brickwork, giving the impression that you've stumbled into ruins much older than a few hundred years, and perhaps at the center of an Indiana Jones film.
Also at Anping Tree House (and everywhere else), Rachel and I re-encountered the blatant stares and paparazzi-like photo-stalking of us which we had seen in mainland China in our various excursions there. It's interesting, really: for the most part, Taiwanese people are largely unphased by our clearly-Western presence (though not enough to stop the steady flow of 'hello's which sound oddly like the speaker is half cat-calling, half proudly practicing his one English word that we got multiple times today), but mainland Chinese tourists are still awestruck and fascinated by us. Go sight-seeing in Taiwan, and you feel like you're back in mainland China--and you realize how very normal your life in Kaohsiung is.
But here I encounter once again my as-yet-unnamed situation in which I have no energy left to write about my day because I simply had too much fun living it. And, while I have no school tomorrow, thanks to Sports Day yesterday, my morning should still be at least existent, if not early. And this is a very late night.
To some extent, this has worked to my advantage here, 16 hours ahead of the vast majority of my friends and family. In a course of cyclical reasoning, my family and the time difference are actually why I'm up right now: I've been Skyping with my mom, dad, and younger brother for a few hours, watching my mom's always-alert morning self in contrast with my brother's squinting just-woke-up face and my dad's slow ascent from awake to functioning, over the course of a cup of coffee. (Yep, that's where I got it from.)
But by all accounts, I shouldn't be up right now, since I was up late last night talking to family, too, but was still up early (for me) this morning, ready for a trip to Tainan with my wonderful host family and Rachel. The getting-ready process definitely involved chugging a bottled latte in 7-11 right as my host family pulled up, since I'm fresh out of coffee beans and I recently discovered my non-caffeinated propensity towards headaches.
We had a fabulous day, visiting such landmarks as the Eternal Golden Fort, Anping Old Fort, Anping Tree House (probably my favorite place EVER), Chihkan Tower, and the Confucius Temple. Unfortunately, we were dogged by what seemed to be a whole-city celebration of some Daoist deity's birthday, complete with a multi-pronged parade of gongs, drums, horns, incense and firecrackers--SO MANY FIRECRACKERS--but aside from that, the locations were gorgeous and the weather could not have been better. Rachel described it well by saying it reminded her of the first day after the snow melts in New Hampshire. I, of course, have never experienced that particular day, but it reminded me of the first day in May that reminds you that eventually summer will come. Glorious.
Of course, with any Taiwanese city, the main event is the food, and Tainan didn't disappoint. Their famous shrimp rolls, which I was a bit nervous to try, since I tend to steer clear of seafood, were absolutely DELICIOUS, tasting mostly of onion. So was the shaved ice we had later (though it tasted of strawberry and sweetened condensed milk, thankfully). And the coffin-cover bread with which we finished out the day.
Probably the highlight of my day was the Anping Tree House, which is actually an old warehouse from the early days of European-Asian trade which has been abandoned to the banyan trees, which in turn eagerly incorporated themselves into the floors, walls, windows and even roofs of the giant building. The even coils of banyan root run everywhere over the old brickwork, giving the impression that you've stumbled into ruins much older than a few hundred years, and perhaps at the center of an Indiana Jones film.
Also at Anping Tree House (and everywhere else), Rachel and I re-encountered the blatant stares and paparazzi-like photo-stalking of us which we had seen in mainland China in our various excursions there. It's interesting, really: for the most part, Taiwanese people are largely unphased by our clearly-Western presence (though not enough to stop the steady flow of 'hello's which sound oddly like the speaker is half cat-calling, half proudly practicing his one English word that we got multiple times today), but mainland Chinese tourists are still awestruck and fascinated by us. Go sight-seeing in Taiwan, and you feel like you're back in mainland China--and you realize how very normal your life in Kaohsiung is.
But here I encounter once again my as-yet-unnamed situation in which I have no energy left to write about my day because I simply had too much fun living it. And, while I have no school tomorrow, thanks to Sports Day yesterday, my morning should still be at least existent, if not early. And this is a very late night.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
劍湖山 and sniffles
When I left my apartment this morning, I knew three things:
1.) I was going on a field trip to an amusement park with my students;
2.) I wasn't feeling well;
3.) I was running inexplicably early.
The first was exciting, if mysterious, since, though I'd been told several times where we were going, I could never manage to remember the name. Still, an amusement park is an amusement park, and time with students outside of school is wonderful even if it didn't involve a free pass to a great Taiwanese attraction.
The second was just obnoxious. I made a quick trip down to 7-11 to pick up hospital masks, in case that was proper protocol for coming to school with a cold here (you never know) and two bags of what I know as cough drops, but which are here apparently considered candy--Ricola lemon mint drops (aka "herb candy").
The third is inexplicable still: I had been told to be at school by 7:24, so I was shooting for 7:20, and yet somehow managed to arrive at 7:05, after stalling and more than one convenience store stop. I met up with Maggie and we immediately began waiting, as the scheduled leave time of 7:30 came and went; when we finally boarded our bus at 8:00am, I had had ample time to wish I had bought breakfast in all my free time, rather than wait it out for the breakfast they provided, which turned out to be shredded dry pork sandwiches. (Not as bad as they sound, but there are still plenty of things I would have chosen over them.)
As the bus got moving, I asked Maggie, yet again, where we were going, and she told me 劍湖山世界, which is translated on their signs as Janfusun Fancyworld, though the characters should make it--and it is actually pronounced, from what I can tell--Jianhushan. So I guess I'm not the only one with problems with the name.
When we got there (after a beautiful drive through the Taiwanese countryside and a rest area reminiscent of those complexes found on toll roads on the East coast, complete with a Starbucks which Maggie and I took full advantage of!), I learned that this is not just a great theme park, but one located on a lush green mountain surrounded by lush green mountains. Absolutely gorgeous.
The set-up reminded me at first of Enchanted Forest, in Albany, Oregon, but on a much grander school--if Albany looked like that (^), that is, which it doesn't. But it's the only other place I know of to so seamlessly integrate the natural environment--and geography--into the more modern buildings and rides. It was brilliant in this regard.
Maggie informed me that the first thing the teachers must do is have coffee/tea with the owner of the tour bus company who took us there. (Oh, there's another cultural difference for ya: no school buses here, and they use double-decker tour buses for just about everything that requires moving large groups of people! Much nicer than the States.) That's one tradition I was more than happy to take part in! Especially when we arrived at the place where we were going to drink the coffee, and found that it was...
Once we finished our drinks, we set out for the haunted theater attraction--never my favorite, but everyone else wanted to go, so I joined. It ended up being pretty tame: rather than reinvent the wheel, they had opted to recreate scenes from famous horror movies in each corner of a mid-sized maze. Also, Maggie and I were at the end of the group going through, so mostly we'd just hear screams up ahead and turn the corner in time to see the actor go back to his corner, or the animatronic monster shrink back to its starting position.
Then it was off to the rides! I think I may have earned myself a reputation as something of a daredevil as, in quick succession, I went on the Diving Machine G5 (not my video), the Sky Jet (where I had an audience of maybe forty or so of my students watching me) and the Crazy Coaster. All were a lot of fun, and all involved fairly quiet waits, seeing as how Maggie doesn't do roller coasters and the other teachers didn't speak English. Still a lot of fun, though!
Not long after lunch--which we were late to, thanks to our roller coaster antics--it was time to head home. We piled back into the buses, turned back on our illegal copy of "Real Steel" (Hugh Jackman fighting robots movie), and headed home.
It was a great day, and it solved my first and third tidbits along the way: I now know that I went to j...n.shn....hm. Curse that name. Okay, it solved my third tidbit along the way: .....because...I...umm....huh. Not even going to try on the second one: my throat still aches, ricola notwithstanding. It didn't keep my from enjoying myself, but it does seem to be impacting my memory and sense of time! So I'm going to bed.
1.) I was going on a field trip to an amusement park with my students;
2.) I wasn't feeling well;
3.) I was running inexplicably early.
The first was exciting, if mysterious, since, though I'd been told several times where we were going, I could never manage to remember the name. Still, an amusement park is an amusement park, and time with students outside of school is wonderful even if it didn't involve a free pass to a great Taiwanese attraction.
The second was just obnoxious. I made a quick trip down to 7-11 to pick up hospital masks, in case that was proper protocol for coming to school with a cold here (you never know) and two bags of what I know as cough drops, but which are here apparently considered candy--Ricola lemon mint drops (aka "herb candy").
The third is inexplicable still: I had been told to be at school by 7:24, so I was shooting for 7:20, and yet somehow managed to arrive at 7:05, after stalling and more than one convenience store stop. I met up with Maggie and we immediately began waiting, as the scheduled leave time of 7:30 came and went; when we finally boarded our bus at 8:00am, I had had ample time to wish I had bought breakfast in all my free time, rather than wait it out for the breakfast they provided, which turned out to be shredded dry pork sandwiches. (Not as bad as they sound, but there are still plenty of things I would have chosen over them.)
As the bus got moving, I asked Maggie, yet again, where we were going, and she told me 劍湖山世界, which is translated on their signs as Janfusun Fancyworld, though the characters should make it--and it is actually pronounced, from what I can tell--Jianhushan. So I guess I'm not the only one with problems with the name.
When we got there (after a beautiful drive through the Taiwanese countryside and a rest area reminiscent of those complexes found on toll roads on the East coast, complete with a Starbucks which Maggie and I took full advantage of!), I learned that this is not just a great theme park, but one located on a lush green mountain surrounded by lush green mountains. Absolutely gorgeous.
 |
| No photo-shopping necessary |
 |
| Definitely one of the greenest theme parks I've ever seen |
 |
| LOVE that view |
Maggie informed me that the first thing the teachers must do is have coffee/tea with the owner of the tour bus company who took us there. (Oh, there's another cultural difference for ya: no school buses here, and they use double-decker tour buses for just about everything that requires moving large groups of people! Much nicer than the States.) That's one tradition I was more than happy to take part in! Especially when we arrived at the place where we were going to drink the coffee, and found that it was...
 |
| Love at first sight. World's largest! |
 |
| Inside, the different rooms--all part of a cafe--featured decor from all different parts of the world. So cool! Wish I'd gotten to explore it more. |
 |
| Our table: Maggie with her rose milk tea (and leftover Starbucks from the road) and 2 of the home room teachers with their iced caramel lattes |
 |
| Maggie and I! Our part of the cafe was decorated like the UK, from what I could tell... |
Then it was off to the rides! I think I may have earned myself a reputation as something of a daredevil as, in quick succession, I went on the Diving Machine G5 (not my video), the Sky Jet (where I had an audience of maybe forty or so of my students watching me) and the Crazy Coaster. All were a lot of fun, and all involved fairly quiet waits, seeing as how Maggie doesn't do roller coasters and the other teachers didn't speak English. Still a lot of fun, though!
 |
| the G5 |
 |
| Just caught it in time |
 |
| Annnd JUST because they're adorable, I give you Fred and Brian. Twin brothers, and they're in the same class. And then I wonder why I can't remember names... |
Not long after lunch--which we were late to, thanks to our roller coaster antics--it was time to head home. We piled back into the buses, turned back on our illegal copy of "Real Steel" (Hugh Jackman fighting robots movie), and headed home.
It was a great day, and it solved my first and third tidbits along the way: I now know that I went to j...n.shn....hm. Curse that name. Okay, it solved my third tidbit along the way: .....because...I...umm....huh. Not even going to try on the second one: my throat still aches, ricola notwithstanding. It didn't keep my from enjoying myself, but it does seem to be impacting my memory and sense of time! So I'm going to bed.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Technical difficulties
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. The food, the family, the contemplative mood--and, in my family at least, the desserts--are all great reminders of what makes life so special.
Which is why I was overjoyed that all of my LETs wanted me to teach the holiday at their schools. This is, according to other ETAs, a bit of a rarity; Thanksgiving is, after all, a uniquely American holiday (when celebrated at this time and for these reasons, anyway) with few real-world applications outside of the US. But then again, I am the resident American teacher, so it's my job to teach my culture, right?
So that's what I set out to do. I had had some ideas about how to do it last week while lesson-planning, which I enthusiastically shared with my LETs, and which they agreed to with few issues. It wasn't until Friday, as I sat on the train headed for Taipei, that I realized I had volunteered myself to create and teach the entire lesson by myself.
I went to work, and crafted a PowerPoint presentation in pretty Fall (well, American Fall, anyway) colors, including a brief account of the first Thanksgiving, discussion about when it is, and, most importantly, a description of Thanksgiving traditions and foods. I made myself drool as I uploaded photos of turkeys and stuffing and cranberry sauce and picked out our vocabulary words for the day--thankful, feast, turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie--wrote out instructions for hand turkeys, complete with a sentence pattern they were to write in the palm area ("I am thankful for______"), and found and linked to several YouTube videos.
But when I arrived at school today, I discovered that we had a problem. Several, in fact.
At Hanmin, we don't have an English classroom, and so go from home room to home room teaching English; only one or maybe two of these is equipped with a computer-overhead set-up. We knew this ahead of time, of course, and Alison had booked us for the audio-lingual room upstairs. But when I got to school, I discovered that my beautiful PowerPoint's formatting had been severely mangled in the transition from .pptx to .ppt and, what was worse, that the "audio-lingual room" was entirely lacking in the audio, thanks to a blown amplifier.
What followed was several periods of awkwardly silent YouTube clips drawn from disordered PowerPoints (I did my best to fix them over breaks), as I tried to explain what was going on:
"See, that's Squanto, and he's helping the children plant corn with fish to make it grow better...See, Lucy is telling Charlie Brown that football is a Thanksgiving tradition, so this time she won't yank the ball away...See, the Thanksgiving Day parade..."
To make matters worse, the large, echoey room's microphones were also not working, and I quickly discovered that, out from under the eyes of their home room teachers, the kids at Hanmin are much MUCH more prone to talking. By lunch time, my throat was beginning to ache.
Fortunately, though, just before lunchtime we scored another room with a projector, and this time one with functioning audio--but still no microphone, and this room was larger than the last. We finally rigged a mic to work for the last period of the day, but by that time there was no going back. My throat was irrevocably sore.
On the plus side, though, I think the kids enjoyed the presentation, for the most part, and I was able to teach them many things about Thanksgiving that even my LETs had not heard about, foods like candied yams and stuffing, and activities like Black Friday and the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.
I'm pretty sure that this clip was their favorite part of the whole day, though, so here it is for your enjoyment:
Snoopy is a big hit here; he was also their favorite part of the Macy's parade clip I showed them.
After classes, I took my malfunctioning throat home with me, a persistent technical difficulty from a day strewn with them. But it didn't matter much as I got to enjoy the wonderful company of Emily, Lydia, Fonda and Chialing on Chialing's birthday, sitting outside her shop, drinking tasty drinks and eating delicious food and ice cream with her homemade mulberry-cranberry-strawberry jam on top.
I can't think of a better way to end a day that was all about Thanksgiving than that: eating great food with great friends and reflecting on how great life is.
Which is why I was overjoyed that all of my LETs wanted me to teach the holiday at their schools. This is, according to other ETAs, a bit of a rarity; Thanksgiving is, after all, a uniquely American holiday (when celebrated at this time and for these reasons, anyway) with few real-world applications outside of the US. But then again, I am the resident American teacher, so it's my job to teach my culture, right?
So that's what I set out to do. I had had some ideas about how to do it last week while lesson-planning, which I enthusiastically shared with my LETs, and which they agreed to with few issues. It wasn't until Friday, as I sat on the train headed for Taipei, that I realized I had volunteered myself to create and teach the entire lesson by myself.
I went to work, and crafted a PowerPoint presentation in pretty Fall (well, American Fall, anyway) colors, including a brief account of the first Thanksgiving, discussion about when it is, and, most importantly, a description of Thanksgiving traditions and foods. I made myself drool as I uploaded photos of turkeys and stuffing and cranberry sauce and picked out our vocabulary words for the day--thankful, feast, turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie--wrote out instructions for hand turkeys, complete with a sentence pattern they were to write in the palm area ("I am thankful for______"), and found and linked to several YouTube videos.
But when I arrived at school today, I discovered that we had a problem. Several, in fact.
At Hanmin, we don't have an English classroom, and so go from home room to home room teaching English; only one or maybe two of these is equipped with a computer-overhead set-up. We knew this ahead of time, of course, and Alison had booked us for the audio-lingual room upstairs. But when I got to school, I discovered that my beautiful PowerPoint's formatting had been severely mangled in the transition from .pptx to .ppt and, what was worse, that the "audio-lingual room" was entirely lacking in the audio, thanks to a blown amplifier.
What followed was several periods of awkwardly silent YouTube clips drawn from disordered PowerPoints (I did my best to fix them over breaks), as I tried to explain what was going on:
"See, that's Squanto, and he's helping the children plant corn with fish to make it grow better...See, Lucy is telling Charlie Brown that football is a Thanksgiving tradition, so this time she won't yank the ball away...See, the Thanksgiving Day parade..."
To make matters worse, the large, echoey room's microphones were also not working, and I quickly discovered that, out from under the eyes of their home room teachers, the kids at Hanmin are much MUCH more prone to talking. By lunch time, my throat was beginning to ache.
Fortunately, though, just before lunchtime we scored another room with a projector, and this time one with functioning audio--but still no microphone, and this room was larger than the last. We finally rigged a mic to work for the last period of the day, but by that time there was no going back. My throat was irrevocably sore.
On the plus side, though, I think the kids enjoyed the presentation, for the most part, and I was able to teach them many things about Thanksgiving that even my LETs had not heard about, foods like candied yams and stuffing, and activities like Black Friday and the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.
I'm pretty sure that this clip was their favorite part of the whole day, though, so here it is for your enjoyment:
Snoopy is a big hit here; he was also their favorite part of the Macy's parade clip I showed them.
After classes, I took my malfunctioning throat home with me, a persistent technical difficulty from a day strewn with them. But it didn't matter much as I got to enjoy the wonderful company of Emily, Lydia, Fonda and Chialing on Chialing's birthday, sitting outside her shop, drinking tasty drinks and eating delicious food and ice cream with her homemade mulberry-cranberry-strawberry jam on top.
I can't think of a better way to end a day that was all about Thanksgiving than that: eating great food with great friends and reflecting on how great life is.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Brief, wet, and wonderful
Up till now, our weekends in Taipei have been WEEKENDS: we get there Friday afternoon and leave Sunday evening. This weekend, by contrast, was quite short: we got there Friday evening and left Saturday afternoon. Which leaves me in the unique and oddly comforting position of being back home in Kaohsiung on Saturday night, with a full day of adventures behind me and a full day of rest ahead of me. It's a nice feeling.
This morning came too early, but I was able to drag myself out of bed with the promise of our freaking amazing hotel shower--which had 6 shower heads. Perhaps it's odd how much I've talked about the bathroom at this hotel, but perhaps it's entirely normal once you've been living for a few months with a so-so shower with so-so water pressure and a so-so temperature gauge. I don't know. All I know is, to quote my brother Scott (who is in turn quoting the movie Hot Rod): "The bathrooms here are NUTS!"
Anyway, after breakfast, we split up--Karina had to go back to Kaohsiung early for a wedding, and I joined forces with Fonda, Emily, Rachel and Samia and set out on one of the most weather-uncooperative trips we've had so far, right up there with Kenting. (Honestly, I have yet to be proven wrong on my 'personal rain cloud' theory...maybe there's something there!)
When we left Taipei it was warm; I immediately regretted wearing jeans and a light scarf and jacket (still wishful thinking about Taipei weather), and we ended up walking for a good 40 minutes before we found our bus stop--only to have the bus loop around and go directly past one of the first places we saw. Sigh.
The drive to 九份 (Jiufen) was an adventure in itself, along a windy mountain road in a massive bus and fog banks closing in around us and others. In the brief interludes between clouds, we could see parts of the ocean where it joined the green mountains we were in. When we finally reached the top, it was beautiful.
Also, it then began pouring rain. And I do mean pouring. We went down the main shopping alleyway, which was sporadically covered or partially covered with various roofs, but without fail these would give way to an open sky pouring water down on everyone. It became a jostling war of umbrellas, in which I learned that being *slightly* taller than everyone is a terrible thing: when your umbrella goes over theirs, a stream of water inevitably finds some dry portion of your clothing to soak.
And here I re-discovered what I've always known about long pants and rain: they're a terrible combination. By halfway through our journey, my jeans were soaked to the knees and my shoes, like everyone else's, were squelchingly full of water.
All that to say, though, it was a blast! Rain notwithstanding, we got some great pictures (on Fonda's camera), saw a hilarious kung-fu parody rehearsal in the old movie theater, ate some yummy grilled onion jelly stuff and (for Rachel and I) marinated meat rice, then ate some traditional yam-and-taro-and-sticky-rice-in-sauce concoction, and then some traditional Taiwanese ice cream with shaved peanuts wrapped in some sort of crepe. After all, if you don't eat traditional food somewhere, you didn't really visit! I wasn't a huge fan of the taro/yam stuff, but everything else was scrumptious.
I'm just gonna have to go back sometime when it's not raining.
The ride back and journey home was less than pleasant, with rain still pouring and clothes still soaked as we walked from our hotel to the MRT station, but I wouldn't have traded the experience for a "perfect" one. It was an adventure! And now, sitting warm and cozy in my apartment in Kaohsiung this weekend, it's nice to have an adventure already under my belt.
This morning came too early, but I was able to drag myself out of bed with the promise of our freaking amazing hotel shower--which had 6 shower heads. Perhaps it's odd how much I've talked about the bathroom at this hotel, but perhaps it's entirely normal once you've been living for a few months with a so-so shower with so-so water pressure and a so-so temperature gauge. I don't know. All I know is, to quote my brother Scott (who is in turn quoting the movie Hot Rod): "The bathrooms here are NUTS!"
 | |
| Seriously, though, it's hard to AVOID commenting on this thing... |
 |
| Also, there was a cat asleep on the ledge outside our window this morning. |
Anyway, after breakfast, we split up--Karina had to go back to Kaohsiung early for a wedding, and I joined forces with Fonda, Emily, Rachel and Samia and set out on one of the most weather-uncooperative trips we've had so far, right up there with Kenting. (Honestly, I have yet to be proven wrong on my 'personal rain cloud' theory...maybe there's something there!)
When we left Taipei it was warm; I immediately regretted wearing jeans and a light scarf and jacket (still wishful thinking about Taipei weather), and we ended up walking for a good 40 minutes before we found our bus stop--only to have the bus loop around and go directly past one of the first places we saw. Sigh.
The drive to 九份 (Jiufen) was an adventure in itself, along a windy mountain road in a massive bus and fog banks closing in around us and others. In the brief interludes between clouds, we could see parts of the ocean where it joined the green mountains we were in. When we finally reached the top, it was beautiful.
 |
| Also, there was an English sheepdog there. He was getting about as much attention as the view. |
And here I re-discovered what I've always known about long pants and rain: they're a terrible combination. By halfway through our journey, my jeans were soaked to the knees and my shoes, like everyone else's, were squelchingly full of water.
All that to say, though, it was a blast! Rain notwithstanding, we got some great pictures (on Fonda's camera), saw a hilarious kung-fu parody rehearsal in the old movie theater, ate some yummy grilled onion jelly stuff and (for Rachel and I) marinated meat rice, then ate some traditional yam-and-taro-and-sticky-rice-in-sauce concoction, and then some traditional Taiwanese ice cream with shaved peanuts wrapped in some sort of crepe. After all, if you don't eat traditional food somewhere, you didn't really visit! I wasn't a huge fan of the taro/yam stuff, but everything else was scrumptious.
I'm just gonna have to go back sometime when it's not raining.
The ride back and journey home was less than pleasant, with rain still pouring and clothes still soaked as we walked from our hotel to the MRT station, but I wouldn't have traded the experience for a "perfect" one. It was an adventure! And now, sitting warm and cozy in my apartment in Kaohsiung this weekend, it's nice to have an adventure already under my belt.
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