"We need discipline!", barked our crusty old sergeant. Stupid cracker, for sure. 'Course, dark as it was, he could've been a Jewish Eskimo, for all I could tell. He clearly enjoyed being our senior, but someone has to give orders; might as well be someone who likes it.
The darkness was overwhelming. So was the smell - so many of us packed into one small space.
"We must maintain our discipline! It is the only way we may arrive in one piece!" I couldn't see him, of course, couldn't see any of the others, since it was so dark, but there was no avoiding his presence. He owned our crowded space. It, and us, were his to command. No one would dare move against him.
"Now, I don't want to see any of you -" several of us snickered - "fall out, and by the way, you think that's funny? You think I wanna see you sorry bastards? I know some of you are falling to pieces already. I'd say you're a disgrace to your parents, but you probably don't have any. You're a disgrace to whatever assholes put you together, not to mention your country and this unit. God knows why I put up with you all. Flaky, the whole lot! Damn miracle we got this far."
I'm sure if he could have, he would have begun pacing. "Now, as I was saying, we must maintain our order, must not fall out of line, or else all is lost - if one falls out of place, we, as a unit, will crumble."
It's times like this I wonder about my life - it seems like all I can remember is being pushed this way and that, never really on my own. Well, I guess things haven't been so bad. We were all real soft before, real doughy, you know, but now we're hard. Real hard. I like that. I like feeling that way... but, it's like I've been on a conveyor belt, shoved into some damn box, and shipped off to who-the-hell knows where, for... no one seems to know. Maybe that crusty old bastard, maybe he knows, but he won't say. Special orders or something. That's how it always is.
Oh, I should mention the shaking. Yeah, none of us can see, and I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but I know for sure we're moving. There's a whole lotta shaking. Has been for a while. Not so much that I'm gonna fall to pieces or anything; hell no, I wouldn't give our sergeant that sort of satisfaction; but we are not exactly on a first-class type trip. So some of the guys are probably a little shook up. Yeah, I'm glad the old bastard up front can't hear that joke, he'd probably want to use it himself. heh. Bad enough I thought of it.
"Now, I know some of you are feeling a little shook up -",
"Fuck," I thought to myself -
"and I know you ain't never been away from home before -" I could feel his smile in the dark, when he made that damn joke - "bunch of softies, but we got picked. We're a special order, you know that? Not like the rest. No, we're made a little differently."
That was for sure - especially the guy behind me, who was way too damn happy to rub up against my backside. Well, I couldn't help but do the same to the guy in front, packed tight as we were, and what with all the shaking. Different for sure - like a whole bunch of queers, is what we were.
"It won't be long before -"
There was a horrible tearing sound. It came from - oh shit. There's daylight. Daylight is knifing its way in through the rip. Can't see a damn thing, but there's lots of yelling, and we're moving now.
- Think I heard sarge yelling.
- Can almost see something - wait, what the -
..giant hand?
crushing...damn strong. got me, now.
Tried getting away. Me and the others.
Oh God -
The heat...the heat...and the gnashing of teeth...it...can't be. They're...shit, oh shit, oh shit, they're all being crushed, I can hear them crunching, like bugs, like...bones?, into that gaping maw, into that...into the pit - "Into the darkness, where there will be much weeping and gnashing of teeth..." No! No! Never! I-!"
And then the boy finished his crackers. They were quite good. The way they crunched was especially delightful. And the wrapper! That salty, crackery smell! He felt as though he was in heaven. He hoped there would be more tomorrow.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Friday, December 08, 2006
Accidentally employed
(家寧, you knew I would have to write tonight, didn't you?)
Well, I have to say, many of you have taken the time to write to me; I have returned the favor by...reading your emails...and not writing. Sorry about that! But I'll start tonight.
I thought about writing on last weekend: I went to 家寧's house on Saturday. Her family taught me to make dumplings (水餃). They were really good, though mine were somewhat misshapen...they were lumpy and deformed, like the sorry result of a toxic waste dump/dumpling spawning ground. Everyone was very polite, and said they all looked the same when they're cooked, anyway, which has some truth to it. Dumplings are not exactly the prettiest food I can think of (they resemble shriveled, gluey giblets...), but there is a definite art to making them look better, which I have not yet mastered. We went for a little walk into the area of a former coal mine run, and abandoned, by the Japanese; in the evening, everyone made something for dinner. I made spaghetti my way, and it was good (heh - it's not just arrogance on my part - I wasn't the only one who liked it. I think everyone else had seconds, at least; then again, maybe they were just being hugely polite. Of course there were many other dishes there as well, and everyone ate until they had trouble moving. It was all good.). Overall it was a really good day. There are a few photos up on my site, but I don't really feel like writing about that (beyond what I just did). Not now, anyway.
I could write about my museum trip, too, and...maybe I will, later. It had its highlights - I'm just jotting that down so that I won't forget.
So, for today...
Did you know I accidentally got a job? Maybe you'd like to hear about that.
Well, here's how it happened:
Several days ago, my volunteer, Rae, called me and asked if I'd meet with her friend's foreign friend - she thought it might be good if I talked to him. So we all got together at a restaurant on campus, ate, talked, etc., and mostly enjoyed ourselves.
Of course, it turns out I already knew this guy - we have a class together, and he lives just across the hall and one door down. I suspected it'd be him.
But I won't get into all that! The important thing is, he somehow came across this lady who teaches a class on translating Japanese into English, or something like that. I'm not entirely clear. But, he didn't take the job, again for whatever reason. I told him I'd be interested - like I often say, I tend to have a lot of free time here. And I do have expenses.
So, the next day, he showed up at my door with the information I needed; I set out soon after to meet my potential employer...on maybe 4 hours of sleep, and with no preparation whatsoever. Heheh. Yes, I am truly a professional.
After a bit of looking, I came to the classroom. I had no other information on contacting this teacher, so I figured I'd just go there. I thought I'd be late, but I made it just as class was about to begin. Or, rather, just as every other class was about to begin. This particular one did not start until nearly fifteen minutes later, when the teacher finally arrived.
I briefly introduced myself and asked for a bit of clarification. Upon her finding that I was mostly free from visible defects, and that I was a native English-speaker, I was hired.
The job? It pays the equivalent of $15 an hour US - for four hours a month. Heheh. Still, it's something. So here's what I do - the class is mostly native Taiwanese, with a couple foreign students. The teacher wants them to work on their accents (and though she didn't say it, their diction, conjugation, and grammar, too); that's why I'm there. I supervise, answer questions, and troubleshoot the English language. heheh.
Taiwan constantly surprises me - it's good to be a foreigner. Because I've been here a while, I expected I might be hired when I showed up; that wasn't too shocking. I also expected to introduce myself and answer a few questions, and was not surprised by that, either.
The introduction went fairly well, though the end was sort of weak; anyway, the class seemed to mostly like it. Then it was time for the inevitable questioning. At first they were shy - they always are.
But questions soon started rolling in.
Like I said, my introduction went mostly well and likewise, the questioning did, too - I've been asked the same questions so many times I often have no need to think about my answers. There were more probing and in-depth questions than I'd been expecting, though - some of the people were actually paying quite a bit of attention (by some people I mean that the girls were quite attentive and responsive, while the guys seemed generally unimpressed and bored. heh. Well, it's fun watching the guys here - they always try to act unimpressed...just like guys, everywhere, now that I think about it, but I was always seeing the other side of it back home, when it was me and the others trying to figure out why all the ladies were so impressed with those stupid foreigners. So now I know both sides.). For example, one girl, with very good English (I later found out she'd lived in California a while), asked me a good one - she wanted to know what I liked about international affairs. Unfortunately for the coherency of my answer, she was pretty, and kept her eyes on me the whole time, doing that crazy eyelash flutter thing that girls do. So my thoughts were not exactly all going the same direction. But I was able to come up with some vague and indefinite answer about it being interesting to understand how the world is supposed to work, and to be able to occasionally predict world events. It might not have been totally satisfactory, I admit.
I mentioned being surprised. But I haven't said why, yet! It wasn't because of the attention I was getting (that actually happens a lot here); I was surprised the teacher let me stand up there so long. I mean, class started late, I showed up unannounced, and the teacher was willing to give me something like 10-15 minutes in front of the class. The lesson didn't get underway till the first period was half-over.
She had them sing a Japanese song, very famous, I understand, about cherry blossoms. Then she decided to make them do a skit or short presentation of their thoughts based on the song - in English, to which there was some groaning. But she said I'd help, and that seemed to relieve everyone.
I listened to all the groups, but one, and gave my advice. That one group didn't need my help - after all, it had another American in it. I get the feeling he isn't the most popular fellow, though - he seems like your typical anime/japanophile nerd, complete with apparently unimproved social skills; one Japanese exchange student was also in that group.
And I was impressed by the groups - sure, their grasp of English was occasionally shaky, but overall not bad - more than that, and more importantly, they were creative and funny. All of them came up with good skits. One, for example, had a loving couple sailing down the river in a boat, watching the cherry blossoms fall - a very romantic mood, to be sure, and a little poetic. However...the couple was a little drunk, the man started talking about a beautiful geisha, and it angered the woman so much that she hit him with the boat paddles, shoved him out of the boat, and threw the paddles after him. They ended that sudden spat with the image of "water droplets, floating from airborne oars, like cherry blossoms falling". And then the boatman says that there was no geisha, the man was just so drunk he was hallucinating.
Well, it might not be as humorous in the re-telling - good acting makes a huge difference. But I liked it (so did the rest of the class). Surprisingly, the group with the Japanese girl and American guy did the worst out of all - they just read a couple sentences...which I suppose would be fine, but disappointing, if they hadn't been required to take up at least 5 minutes. So they panicked in front of the class, wasted some time coming up with something else, and then tossed out some things so dull I can't remember them at all.
I was pleased with the class. I'll only go every two weeks, since they spend those other two weeks doing Japanese (which I'm pretty shaky on - I've forgotten nearly everything). I even got paid at the end of my full workday, and, to celebrate, went with a certain someone for a celebratory dinner. We ate fancy - we ordered $3 meals!
(twice the price of my usual $1.50 fried rice dinner.)
So that's my accidental job. I have to say, for the incredibly tiny amount of effort I put into getting it, I'm pretty pleased with the result. I think I'll like this class.
And that covers...well, part of one recent afternoon. Wow, am I ever behind (at least, if I want to cover the more interesting things that happen to me.)
All for now! Thanks for reading, by the way.
Well, I have to say, many of you have taken the time to write to me; I have returned the favor by...reading your emails...and not writing. Sorry about that! But I'll start tonight.
I thought about writing on last weekend: I went to 家寧's house on Saturday. Her family taught me to make dumplings (水餃). They were really good, though mine were somewhat misshapen...they were lumpy and deformed, like the sorry result of a toxic waste dump/dumpling spawning ground. Everyone was very polite, and said they all looked the same when they're cooked, anyway, which has some truth to it. Dumplings are not exactly the prettiest food I can think of (they resemble shriveled, gluey giblets...), but there is a definite art to making them look better, which I have not yet mastered. We went for a little walk into the area of a former coal mine run, and abandoned, by the Japanese; in the evening, everyone made something for dinner. I made spaghetti my way, and it was good (heh - it's not just arrogance on my part - I wasn't the only one who liked it. I think everyone else had seconds, at least; then again, maybe they were just being hugely polite. Of course there were many other dishes there as well, and everyone ate until they had trouble moving. It was all good.). Overall it was a really good day. There are a few photos up on my site, but I don't really feel like writing about that (beyond what I just did). Not now, anyway.
I could write about my museum trip, too, and...maybe I will, later. It had its highlights - I'm just jotting that down so that I won't forget.
So, for today...
Did you know I accidentally got a job? Maybe you'd like to hear about that.
Well, here's how it happened:
Several days ago, my volunteer, Rae, called me and asked if I'd meet with her friend's foreign friend - she thought it might be good if I talked to him. So we all got together at a restaurant on campus, ate, talked, etc., and mostly enjoyed ourselves.
Of course, it turns out I already knew this guy - we have a class together, and he lives just across the hall and one door down. I suspected it'd be him.
But I won't get into all that! The important thing is, he somehow came across this lady who teaches a class on translating Japanese into English, or something like that. I'm not entirely clear. But, he didn't take the job, again for whatever reason. I told him I'd be interested - like I often say, I tend to have a lot of free time here. And I do have expenses.
So, the next day, he showed up at my door with the information I needed; I set out soon after to meet my potential employer...on maybe 4 hours of sleep, and with no preparation whatsoever. Heheh. Yes, I am truly a professional.
After a bit of looking, I came to the classroom. I had no other information on contacting this teacher, so I figured I'd just go there. I thought I'd be late, but I made it just as class was about to begin. Or, rather, just as every other class was about to begin. This particular one did not start until nearly fifteen minutes later, when the teacher finally arrived.
I briefly introduced myself and asked for a bit of clarification. Upon her finding that I was mostly free from visible defects, and that I was a native English-speaker, I was hired.
The job? It pays the equivalent of $15 an hour US - for four hours a month. Heheh. Still, it's something. So here's what I do - the class is mostly native Taiwanese, with a couple foreign students. The teacher wants them to work on their accents (and though she didn't say it, their diction, conjugation, and grammar, too); that's why I'm there. I supervise, answer questions, and troubleshoot the English language. heheh.
Taiwan constantly surprises me - it's good to be a foreigner. Because I've been here a while, I expected I might be hired when I showed up; that wasn't too shocking. I also expected to introduce myself and answer a few questions, and was not surprised by that, either.
The introduction went fairly well, though the end was sort of weak; anyway, the class seemed to mostly like it. Then it was time for the inevitable questioning. At first they were shy - they always are.
But questions soon started rolling in.
Like I said, my introduction went mostly well and likewise, the questioning did, too - I've been asked the same questions so many times I often have no need to think about my answers. There were more probing and in-depth questions than I'd been expecting, though - some of the people were actually paying quite a bit of attention (by some people I mean that the girls were quite attentive and responsive, while the guys seemed generally unimpressed and bored. heh. Well, it's fun watching the guys here - they always try to act unimpressed...just like guys, everywhere, now that I think about it, but I was always seeing the other side of it back home, when it was me and the others trying to figure out why all the ladies were so impressed with those stupid foreigners. So now I know both sides.). For example, one girl, with very good English (I later found out she'd lived in California a while), asked me a good one - she wanted to know what I liked about international affairs. Unfortunately for the coherency of my answer, she was pretty, and kept her eyes on me the whole time, doing that crazy eyelash flutter thing that girls do. So my thoughts were not exactly all going the same direction. But I was able to come up with some vague and indefinite answer about it being interesting to understand how the world is supposed to work, and to be able to occasionally predict world events. It might not have been totally satisfactory, I admit.
I mentioned being surprised. But I haven't said why, yet! It wasn't because of the attention I was getting (that actually happens a lot here); I was surprised the teacher let me stand up there so long. I mean, class started late, I showed up unannounced, and the teacher was willing to give me something like 10-15 minutes in front of the class. The lesson didn't get underway till the first period was half-over.
She had them sing a Japanese song, very famous, I understand, about cherry blossoms. Then she decided to make them do a skit or short presentation of their thoughts based on the song - in English, to which there was some groaning. But she said I'd help, and that seemed to relieve everyone.
I listened to all the groups, but one, and gave my advice. That one group didn't need my help - after all, it had another American in it. I get the feeling he isn't the most popular fellow, though - he seems like your typical anime/japanophile nerd, complete with apparently unimproved social skills; one Japanese exchange student was also in that group.
And I was impressed by the groups - sure, their grasp of English was occasionally shaky, but overall not bad - more than that, and more importantly, they were creative and funny. All of them came up with good skits. One, for example, had a loving couple sailing down the river in a boat, watching the cherry blossoms fall - a very romantic mood, to be sure, and a little poetic. However...the couple was a little drunk, the man started talking about a beautiful geisha, and it angered the woman so much that she hit him with the boat paddles, shoved him out of the boat, and threw the paddles after him. They ended that sudden spat with the image of "water droplets, floating from airborne oars, like cherry blossoms falling". And then the boatman says that there was no geisha, the man was just so drunk he was hallucinating.
Well, it might not be as humorous in the re-telling - good acting makes a huge difference. But I liked it (so did the rest of the class). Surprisingly, the group with the Japanese girl and American guy did the worst out of all - they just read a couple sentences...which I suppose would be fine, but disappointing, if they hadn't been required to take up at least 5 minutes. So they panicked in front of the class, wasted some time coming up with something else, and then tossed out some things so dull I can't remember them at all.
I was pleased with the class. I'll only go every two weeks, since they spend those other two weeks doing Japanese (which I'm pretty shaky on - I've forgotten nearly everything). I even got paid at the end of my full workday, and, to celebrate, went with a certain someone for a celebratory dinner. We ate fancy - we ordered $3 meals!
(twice the price of my usual $1.50 fried rice dinner.)
So that's my accidental job. I have to say, for the incredibly tiny amount of effort I put into getting it, I'm pretty pleased with the result. I think I'll like this class.
And that covers...well, part of one recent afternoon. Wow, am I ever behind (at least, if I want to cover the more interesting things that happen to me.)
All for now! Thanks for reading, by the way.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Short Mountain Hike Part 2
Once again we meet in words. Unfortunately, you get to know all about me, and I know nothing of you, but, that's writing, right?
I honestly haven't done much, but I'm so lazy that there's plenty to talk about anyway. Heheh.
I think I should finish telling about the little walk 家寧 and I took.
Alright, when I left off, we had just arrived in town. And I do mean town, as in a small settlement. It's on either side of a river, nestled down in some hills, and though it looks old, it's nice, in a run-down kind of way.
It was still drizzling rain, and we were both, for the best part, wet. And our legs were quivery from walking downhill so long; we both shook a bit when we stood still to rest (I have to say, though, 家寧 is a great walker - she'll walk just as far as I will - and she likes it! (or she's really good at faking...but she's the best actress on Earth, then)).
We needed to figure out where the bus stop was in relation to where we were: we'd come down far from our origin.
I was going to accompany 家寧 in looking around, but she saw a police station, and said they'd know where it was. I figured I wouldn't be much use, since I'm the equivalent of a really smart Chinese dog as far as language goes, so I decided to stay outside and take some pictures. The town, as I mentioned, sits on both sides of a little river, which flows over smooth-worn stones; the houses are built almost on top of the water, with steep concrete sides keeping everything in the proper order (river in its bed, houses out of the water). There's also a bridge I liked the look of. I'll post a few pictures at the bottom of this entry; you might like the place.
I was still taking pictures when my companion returned; I felt a little bad about not going with her. Sure, I'd be useless, but it would've been better. Eh, well. She did look a little angry, perhaps, that I was still staring at basically some concrete, while she'd gone and done something useful. Heheh.
We didn't have to go far; the bus stop was only maybe a half-mile away. The town was empty, but interesting; I hear it fills up on weekends, but when we were there, you'd think it was a town on its last legs (or perhaps pylons, given its geographical situation). 家寧 asked if I was hungry, and, being me, of course I answered yes. I'm always hungry. She said there was some interesting food there, and that we could stop and eat. I agreed, then I realized the time: 1:40. She had a meeting in 20 minutes. I told her, she said she'd just miss it at this point, we argued a bit, and finally we decided she could probably make it back before it ended, maybe an hour late. Besides that, I'm always hungry - I can always eat, but it's not like I have to.
So we waited a few minutes for the bus, it promptly showed up, and we had a couple seats all to ourselves. No standing!
The ride back felt good - we weren't being rained on, we weren't sliding, and when we did go downhill, it was the brakes protesting, not our legs. So we relaxed for the next ~45 minutes, and talked at our leisure.
Eventually it ended, of course, which was a shame - so we got on the subway, rode back to school, and started walking. I accompanied 家寧 most of the way to her meeting; after saying goodbye, I decided to look for food. It was about 3:10 or so.
Before I'd even gone ten feet, I took a more careful look at the restaurant I was passing by. I'd planned to go somewhere cheap and filling, and nice restaurants here usually aren't either of those things, but there was something different about this place. So I walked to the entrance - and discovered Sizzler is not dead. It just lives in Taiwan now (yes, I know there are supposedly some locations in the US, but I haven't seen one in years).
I thought I'd keep it in mind for later, since I really wasn't in the mood to spend so much - however, I was fairly hungry, and as I continued walking, I was reminded that they have a salad bar; it was well-stocked and fresh, like the super-walmart of salad bars. Man, did it look good. The thought went through my mind that it'd be exceedingly nice to get out of the rain and enjoy a huge meal in my filthy, wet, tired condition.
So I kept walking.
Heh.
Oh come on, you knew I was going to. Since when do I do sensible things?
So I kept walking. Several blocks drizzled by, and I didn't see much in the way of food. A lot of places close down between lunch and dinner here.
I came across a stand selling...something? It was fried, and smelled delicious, and I would tell you what it was, but there was a crowd of people there. Not that I'm terrified of crowds; no, they were huddled around the stand, and under the arcade, and they eyed me with great suspicion as I drew near. In fact, several were scowling when it looked like I'd gotten to close to the food-end of the line. I thought I might get jumped if I got close enough to actually see what it was. There must've been at least 20 people in line, at 3:30 in the afternoon, in the rain, so that must be some damn fine food. I didn't feel like waiting.
So I kept walking.
More blocks came and went, more restaurants were not open, or were, but were unappealing. I'd been thinking about Sizzler the entire time. I turned around when I came to some slightly inconvenient construction, and decided right there that I'd eat at one of the places I'd passed. I did not permit myself to think about eating at Sizzler - at actually eating there, not just considering it. I came back to the crowded stand; in the 15-20 minutes I'd been gone, perhaps 2 people had gone through the line, and several more were added to the end. There might've been 30 people then. I wanted to try it, but my hunger was getting a bit overwhelming, and I really felt like drying out a bit.
So I told myself if there was nothing else open before Sizzler, I'd eat there.
Sure enough, nothing was. Still, I stood in front for a good two or three minutes, debating whether I should enter or not. Eventually I convinced myself that, while it might be expensive, it was something I couldn't do back home, and I'd always sort of liked Sizzler. So I went in.
I was seated promptly, handed a menu, and told that there was a 'tea-time' special; this included the salad bar, for cheap. So, without even looking at the menu (I had wanted to see if they still had some of the old stuff, but, alas!) , I agreed to get the special. It was a choice of rosemary garlic chicken, or some other chicken; I of course picked rosemary, and didn't expect much. Then I got up for the salad bar.
It was as well-stocked as I thought. There was salad, of course, and it was good. There was spaghetti, which was surprisingly good; there was fruit, which was also good; an assortment of breads, most of which were good (and one that was good but strange, see the picture below), deserts, puddings, jellos, etc.
I'd finished off a few plates before my meal came. I have to say, I wasn't expecting much from the chicken, but something, some magical chemical, or a talented chef, or perhaps that old standby, greatest seasoning of all, hunger, made the chicken superb. I've been wanting to use that word for a while now - don't think I have in probably a year or two. Well, anyway, the chicken deserved that much-abused adjective; it was some of the best I've ever had. At a Sizzler! In Taiwan! Unlikely, right?
All told, I think I ate seven platefuls of food. And then there was the bowl of icecream. Man, now that's how you do gluttony. It was really, really good. And, it cost $330 or so NT - only $10 US! Expensive here, but good luck getting that sort of deal back home. It was worth it.
After all that, I was ready to go back to my room and relax. And then I remembered - I'd agreed to meet Morris and Chris for dinner! Which was only an hour and a half away. Ah.
Well, that went well, though I hardly ate anything (they were shocked to see me eat so little).
And so far as I can remember, that was my day.
I liked it a lot. It is a day worth memorializing. heh. And if a certain someone has a chance to go hiking again like that, you'd better believe I'll jump at the opportunity.
Houses, bridges, the road, and the river in 景美.
Looking the opposite way.
A bridge
The river
And now the rest!
Part of the salad bar at Sizzler
Yes, it is evil cake. I'm not exactly sure why, though - it tastes pretty good. I think the Chinese name is something like "ghost devil biscuit" - is that in reference to us light-skinned folks? eh?
Yes, that down-home favorite...
Outside Sizzler
All for now - and there's still much more to write!
I honestly haven't done much, but I'm so lazy that there's plenty to talk about anyway. Heheh.
I think I should finish telling about the little walk 家寧 and I took.
Alright, when I left off, we had just arrived in town. And I do mean town, as in a small settlement. It's on either side of a river, nestled down in some hills, and though it looks old, it's nice, in a run-down kind of way.
It was still drizzling rain, and we were both, for the best part, wet. And our legs were quivery from walking downhill so long; we both shook a bit when we stood still to rest (I have to say, though, 家寧 is a great walker - she'll walk just as far as I will - and she likes it! (or she's really good at faking...but she's the best actress on Earth, then)).
We needed to figure out where the bus stop was in relation to where we were: we'd come down far from our origin.
I was going to accompany 家寧 in looking around, but she saw a police station, and said they'd know where it was. I figured I wouldn't be much use, since I'm the equivalent of a really smart Chinese dog as far as language goes, so I decided to stay outside and take some pictures. The town, as I mentioned, sits on both sides of a little river, which flows over smooth-worn stones; the houses are built almost on top of the water, with steep concrete sides keeping everything in the proper order (river in its bed, houses out of the water). There's also a bridge I liked the look of. I'll post a few pictures at the bottom of this entry; you might like the place.
I was still taking pictures when my companion returned; I felt a little bad about not going with her. Sure, I'd be useless, but it would've been better. Eh, well. She did look a little angry, perhaps, that I was still staring at basically some concrete, while she'd gone and done something useful. Heheh.
We didn't have to go far; the bus stop was only maybe a half-mile away. The town was empty, but interesting; I hear it fills up on weekends, but when we were there, you'd think it was a town on its last legs (or perhaps pylons, given its geographical situation). 家寧 asked if I was hungry, and, being me, of course I answered yes. I'm always hungry. She said there was some interesting food there, and that we could stop and eat. I agreed, then I realized the time: 1:40. She had a meeting in 20 minutes. I told her, she said she'd just miss it at this point, we argued a bit, and finally we decided she could probably make it back before it ended, maybe an hour late. Besides that, I'm always hungry - I can always eat, but it's not like I have to.
So we waited a few minutes for the bus, it promptly showed up, and we had a couple seats all to ourselves. No standing!
The ride back felt good - we weren't being rained on, we weren't sliding, and when we did go downhill, it was the brakes protesting, not our legs. So we relaxed for the next ~45 minutes, and talked at our leisure.
Eventually it ended, of course, which was a shame - so we got on the subway, rode back to school, and started walking. I accompanied 家寧 most of the way to her meeting; after saying goodbye, I decided to look for food. It was about 3:10 or so.
Before I'd even gone ten feet, I took a more careful look at the restaurant I was passing by. I'd planned to go somewhere cheap and filling, and nice restaurants here usually aren't either of those things, but there was something different about this place. So I walked to the entrance - and discovered Sizzler is not dead. It just lives in Taiwan now (yes, I know there are supposedly some locations in the US, but I haven't seen one in years).
I thought I'd keep it in mind for later, since I really wasn't in the mood to spend so much - however, I was fairly hungry, and as I continued walking, I was reminded that they have a salad bar; it was well-stocked and fresh, like the super-walmart of salad bars. Man, did it look good. The thought went through my mind that it'd be exceedingly nice to get out of the rain and enjoy a huge meal in my filthy, wet, tired condition.
So I kept walking.
Heh.
Oh come on, you knew I was going to. Since when do I do sensible things?
So I kept walking. Several blocks drizzled by, and I didn't see much in the way of food. A lot of places close down between lunch and dinner here.
I came across a stand selling...something? It was fried, and smelled delicious, and I would tell you what it was, but there was a crowd of people there. Not that I'm terrified of crowds; no, they were huddled around the stand, and under the arcade, and they eyed me with great suspicion as I drew near. In fact, several were scowling when it looked like I'd gotten to close to the food-end of the line. I thought I might get jumped if I got close enough to actually see what it was. There must've been at least 20 people in line, at 3:30 in the afternoon, in the rain, so that must be some damn fine food. I didn't feel like waiting.
So I kept walking.
More blocks came and went, more restaurants were not open, or were, but were unappealing. I'd been thinking about Sizzler the entire time. I turned around when I came to some slightly inconvenient construction, and decided right there that I'd eat at one of the places I'd passed. I did not permit myself to think about eating at Sizzler - at actually eating there, not just considering it. I came back to the crowded stand; in the 15-20 minutes I'd been gone, perhaps 2 people had gone through the line, and several more were added to the end. There might've been 30 people then. I wanted to try it, but my hunger was getting a bit overwhelming, and I really felt like drying out a bit.
So I told myself if there was nothing else open before Sizzler, I'd eat there.
Sure enough, nothing was. Still, I stood in front for a good two or three minutes, debating whether I should enter or not. Eventually I convinced myself that, while it might be expensive, it was something I couldn't do back home, and I'd always sort of liked Sizzler. So I went in.
I was seated promptly, handed a menu, and told that there was a 'tea-time' special; this included the salad bar, for cheap. So, without even looking at the menu (I had wanted to see if they still had some of the old stuff, but, alas!) , I agreed to get the special. It was a choice of rosemary garlic chicken, or some other chicken; I of course picked rosemary, and didn't expect much. Then I got up for the salad bar.
It was as well-stocked as I thought. There was salad, of course, and it was good. There was spaghetti, which was surprisingly good; there was fruit, which was also good; an assortment of breads, most of which were good (and one that was good but strange, see the picture below), deserts, puddings, jellos, etc.
I'd finished off a few plates before my meal came. I have to say, I wasn't expecting much from the chicken, but something, some magical chemical, or a talented chef, or perhaps that old standby, greatest seasoning of all, hunger, made the chicken superb. I've been wanting to use that word for a while now - don't think I have in probably a year or two. Well, anyway, the chicken deserved that much-abused adjective; it was some of the best I've ever had. At a Sizzler! In Taiwan! Unlikely, right?
All told, I think I ate seven platefuls of food. And then there was the bowl of icecream. Man, now that's how you do gluttony. It was really, really good. And, it cost $330 or so NT - only $10 US! Expensive here, but good luck getting that sort of deal back home. It was worth it.
After all that, I was ready to go back to my room and relax. And then I remembered - I'd agreed to meet Morris and Chris for dinner! Which was only an hour and a half away. Ah.
Well, that went well, though I hardly ate anything (they were shocked to see me eat so little).
And so far as I can remember, that was my day.
I liked it a lot. It is a day worth memorializing. heh. And if a certain someone has a chance to go hiking again like that, you'd better believe I'll jump at the opportunity.
Houses, bridges, the road, and the river in 景美.
Looking the opposite way.
A bridge
The river
And now the rest!
Part of the salad bar at Sizzler
Yes, it is evil cake. I'm not exactly sure why, though - it tastes pretty good. I think the Chinese name is something like "ghost devil biscuit" - is that in reference to us light-skinned folks? eh?
Yes, that down-home favorite...
Outside Sizzler
All for now - and there's still much more to write!
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving
For thanksgiving, I ate Vietnamese food. It's pretty close to turkey. As in, it is both tasty, and food.
The similarities end soon thereafter.
But I did like it. It wasn't too expensive, it was much better than being simply 'tasty', and, for reasons I think I might know, my food came with a small loaf of hot, fresh french bread (Vietnam was ruled by the French...?).
And you know what? I found a clever way to beat the crowds to the day-after shopping. Leave the country! Yes, that's right, all you have to do is leave the good old U.S. of A., and there are no lines at the malls! No mad rushes for toys! No crazy people, no unending, mercilessly maddening christmas carols! No problems parking (well, aside from the fact that Taiwan, like many other foreign countries, does not believe in parking lots - so parking is just as easy as it ever is)!
I'm going shopping tomorrow. I think a lot of you would enjoy the shirts they have here; unfortunately, though shirts are cheap (like $3-4), shipping them is not. So most of you will get...nothing. Heh. Well, being good is its own reward, right? Not that I really believe any of you have been staying out of trouble. Scoundrels. No visits from Santa this year. He lost visitation rights, because you've been bad (imagine saying that to a child of divorce. Heheh. Wow, that'd screw him up. Sometimes, do you think, it's best that I'm not a parent? Well, not like I'd intend to get divorced, anyway...but you never know who your own kids would bring back home, right?).
So, anyway, sorry, no presents. Maybe I can bring a few things back with me, and you can get some bizarre goodies then.
I think on some weekend soon (maybe this one), I'll get a chance to actually cook some food. I might even make something thanksgiving-y. Or a pie. Yeah, pie's good.
That reminds me: there are things you'd expect any ordinary country to have. You know, roads, water and sewage systems, a military, pie. Guess which one of these things Taiwan doesn't have! Well, you'd be half-right if you guessed any of them, but the answer was pie. There is none.
Or, if there is, I have never seen it, and I've checked just about every restaurant and dessert place within 2 miles of school (and plenty of upscale places, too). There are cakes, and lots of them (though, like bread, no Taiwanese person has ever been entirely successfully at making one).
According to stereotype, asians are skinny. That isn't true of every person, of course, but there are fewer fat people here than in America. However, it isn't because they're starving, anymore. It's because they don't know how to make decent desserts.
Here in Taiwan, you can only tell that you're eating dessert by some sort of scale that I haven't totally figured out - roughly, though, ordinary food is only 25-50% sugar, while desert is 50-100%. Unsurprisingly, Taiwan has the highest rate of incidence of diabetes in the world.
There's a killing to be made here by any half-decent pastry chef and/or baker. Also, I think Southern style food would be immensely popular here. If you could get anyone to try it. It's worth thinking about.
Well, unlike the rest of you, I don't have a holiday today, or tomorrow, so I've got to go now - enjoy stuffing yourselves. Try to eat a little extra for me.
Cultural note for today: Turkey is very rare in Taiwan. It is also literally called "Fire Chicken" (火雞).
The similarities end soon thereafter.
But I did like it. It wasn't too expensive, it was much better than being simply 'tasty', and, for reasons I think I might know, my food came with a small loaf of hot, fresh french bread (Vietnam was ruled by the French...?).
And you know what? I found a clever way to beat the crowds to the day-after shopping. Leave the country! Yes, that's right, all you have to do is leave the good old U.S. of A., and there are no lines at the malls! No mad rushes for toys! No crazy people, no unending, mercilessly maddening christmas carols! No problems parking (well, aside from the fact that Taiwan, like many other foreign countries, does not believe in parking lots - so parking is just as easy as it ever is)!
I'm going shopping tomorrow. I think a lot of you would enjoy the shirts they have here; unfortunately, though shirts are cheap (like $3-4), shipping them is not. So most of you will get...nothing. Heh. Well, being good is its own reward, right? Not that I really believe any of you have been staying out of trouble. Scoundrels. No visits from Santa this year. He lost visitation rights, because you've been bad (imagine saying that to a child of divorce. Heheh. Wow, that'd screw him up. Sometimes, do you think, it's best that I'm not a parent? Well, not like I'd intend to get divorced, anyway...but you never know who your own kids would bring back home, right?).
So, anyway, sorry, no presents. Maybe I can bring a few things back with me, and you can get some bizarre goodies then.
I think on some weekend soon (maybe this one), I'll get a chance to actually cook some food. I might even make something thanksgiving-y. Or a pie. Yeah, pie's good.
That reminds me: there are things you'd expect any ordinary country to have. You know, roads, water and sewage systems, a military, pie. Guess which one of these things Taiwan doesn't have! Well, you'd be half-right if you guessed any of them, but the answer was pie. There is none.
Or, if there is, I have never seen it, and I've checked just about every restaurant and dessert place within 2 miles of school (and plenty of upscale places, too). There are cakes, and lots of them (though, like bread, no Taiwanese person has ever been entirely successfully at making one).
According to stereotype, asians are skinny. That isn't true of every person, of course, but there are fewer fat people here than in America. However, it isn't because they're starving, anymore. It's because they don't know how to make decent desserts.
Here in Taiwan, you can only tell that you're eating dessert by some sort of scale that I haven't totally figured out - roughly, though, ordinary food is only 25-50% sugar, while desert is 50-100%. Unsurprisingly, Taiwan has the highest rate of incidence of diabetes in the world.
There's a killing to be made here by any half-decent pastry chef and/or baker. Also, I think Southern style food would be immensely popular here. If you could get anyone to try it. It's worth thinking about.
Well, unlike the rest of you, I don't have a holiday today, or tomorrow, so I've got to go now - enjoy stuffing yourselves. Try to eat a little extra for me.
Cultural note for today: Turkey is very rare in Taiwan. It is also literally called "Fire Chicken" (火雞).
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Short mountain hike
Yesterday was an exceedingly good day – though it might actually have been several days ago, by the time this gets posted.
I could talk for quite a while about it, but I've been meeting with this girl named 家寧 (Jia1ning2). Heh. Well, if you can't read that, I'm not going to translate it right this moment.
Anyway, Wednesday was a school holiday – it was the school's anniversary. Lots of speeches and things like that.
I, of course, don't care much for speeches, and even less when they're in a language I barely understand.
Anyway, since I had no class, and no compelling reason to stick around school, I'd asked 家寧 if she'd like to do something that day, maybe take a little bit of a hike into the hills around here. She did, and she said she knew of a good place to go.
Heheh. Well, I thought, for some reason, that we were going to this place I'd been to before, but that's because I wasn't paying attention.
We met at 8:00 AM in front of the school (unfortunately, I was slightly late - I'd decided to try breakfast in the basement, since there's a new girl working there, and she'd asked me the day before if I'd like to try something...she's almost overwhelmingly nice, and I think it's impossible not to like her, but, unfortunately, she doesn't cook real fast, and I was kind of cutting it close anyway - sorry 家寧!), rode the subway, then got on a bus. We were the only two on it for quite some time – oh, and of course, the bus's route number was 666.
After quite a while, the driver told us we had to get off and wait for another bus – he didn't want to drive so far for only two people. So we waited for the next bus.
It came, and it was crowded. Standing room only. But we only needed to go another ten minutes or so.
When we got off around 9:20 or so, I looked around, and made a remark like, “this looks different than I remember.” That's because I thought I was at 像山 (elephant mountain)...and not quite registering the fact that it took almost an hour to get there, while 像山 takes maybe 20 minutes. Well, fortunately, I think I was so confused that 家寧 might've assumed she just didn't understand what I was saying – which is extremely unlikely, since her English is better than most native speakers (she has little trouble reading Shakespeare, for example). Heh. Well, it temporarily saved me some embarrassment, anyway...though I'm sure she's going to end up reading this, or I'll remember to tell her. Yes, I really am that clueless sometimes.
I'm not entirely sure, but I think the place is called 文山 (wen2shan1 – I don't think it has any meaning). Or the mountain is. The town nearby might be called 景美 (jing3mei3), or something like that...but I'm not sure, because 景美 I think means “beautiful view.” It was, though. And we were headed to a place in the mountains called 皇帝殿. (Huang2di4dian4)...Emperor's Palace (though it's actually a temple).
All well and good, right?
The weather was almost perfect – almost – except that it was drizzling slightly. Other than that, it was very pleasant. And, being a weekday, there was nobody there but us. Very nice.
We walked for a ways to get to the trail. The road was steep, and then there were stairs. Lots of them. And I discovered my sandals – yes, sandals – were not especially well-suited to walking on slippery terrain. They were athletic sandals, mind you, but the grip leaves a little to be desired.
We walked up a fair number of stairs, enough to get tired of them, and then we came to the trail. It's a real trail, that's for sure - no pavement or any of that silly modern stuff. Heheh...just dirt and rocks, and tree roots. It was a nice change from the stairs, so I have to admit being a little excited to walk on it. So we walked a bit, the trail was fairly steep in places, the rain was only misting, and we were the only ones around.
After a while we came to a small, open-air temple. It was staffed by two dogs, an old man, and a radio blasting out some talk program. Probably politics - it sounded boisterous. The old man never acknowledged seeing us, but the dogs did. You know dogs - they're all optimists. They all think maybe they can beg something from you (well, except the mean ones). Across from the temple there was a short rise, a little hill, with some sort of incense-burning pit on it. So we scrambled up the rocky, slick, trail, and sat down on a small stone wall on the edge of the hill; the view was very nice. 家寧 had brought oranges in her bag, and she offered me one. I gladly accepted it: it goes without saying, but oranges are good, and I didn't have any food with me. One of the dogs had followed us, and was sniffing around for food...so I offered it the orange. I didn't expect it'd want any, but it took one sniff, then scrambled down the hill. Heh. I don't think I've ever seen a dog get that worked up over food. Well, the dog missed out on a mighty fine orange, that's for sure.
We enjoyed the view for a while, and then we moved on. We decided to go higher, towards another temple. The trail got steeper, and we were walking up rain-slick rocks and tree roots exclusively. The vegetation grew closer. And we climbed further and further.
At some point the trail got even steeper - it went up a slick rock slope. Someone had carved some shallow toe-holds, but they were very slippery with rain. Fortunately, someone had also put in some ropes, and chains. You literally pull yourself up the slope.
After walking some more, and coming to more of these steep slopes, we came to the top of the ridge. It looks fake - it's like walking on the edge of a giant stone knife. Someone some time ago hacked up the top layer of rock so that there's a flat path wide enough for one person, and that's what you walk on. To either side is a steep dropoff. It's so strange-looking I thought it was concrete at first.
I'll say this for Taiwan - safety isn't that big a deal here. heh. That might not sound entirely complimentary, but I mean it. In America, most places you go, someone's put up warning signs, and pavement, and guardrails, and stairs, and all sorts of other things, on the off chance that you might do something stupid and hurt yourself. Wouldn't want to get sued, after all.
Here, though, they put up whatever they feel like putting up, and you make the best of it. It feels a lot more free - it feels more like I'm choosing where to go and how to do it - in other places, you feel like someone's wound you up and set you on a nice little path, and you'll follow it like all the other little automatons, because heaven forbid anyone should deviate from the path.
Here's a picture I found of one of the slopes (I forgot to take pictures until we were about to leave, so this isn't my photo) -
In dry weather, it wouldn't be too difficult to climb up without that chain. In wet weather it is extremely difficult. But it's fun! And you get to do it often. There are metal chain ladders, too (they're more slippery than the rock, but they're found in areas where you couldn't safely climb up or down the stone face unless you were an experienced climber).
I had joked, before leaving, that we weren't really going for a hike, more like a short walk. I wasn't expecting much, you know.
I was extraordinarily wrong. But I'm glad to have been wrong - we got muddy, and wet, and had to climb a lot, and used our balance maybe a little, and halfway fell down several times. It was fun. It's much more rewarding to be challenged on your 'walk'.
Anyway, here are some more photos of the area:
That's the part of the path that does have railing - like I said, it's very narrow, and in most places there is no railing at all.
Just another view of part of the ridge. Also with barriers.
The rain slowed us down quite a bit. I didn't exactly know where I was going, and 家寧 didn't know which way to go, so we never actually reached that other temple. We passed above it, and saw its roof. It was a nice roof, for sure, but I hadn't planned on seeing that part. heh. Well, there was a lot more climbing up and down, and slick rocks, and trees roots, and ropes, and ladders, and etc. And finally, we arrived near an entrance. That path had smoothed out. I finally remembered to take pictures -
Doesn't look too steep, right? That's because this is almost at the exit.
That's a bit more like it! Now imagine climbing trails like that for several miles.
And I don't mean by 'climbing' the more general sense of "gaining (or descending) in altitude", either - I literally mean holding onto things and pulling yourself up, or lowering yourself, like she's doing right there.
Then we came across an unexpectedly welcome sight - stairs.
This's looking back up at them.
Most of the time, seeing stairs is slightly unpleasant - who can say they honestly really enjoy climbing the things, or that they look forward to every opportunity to do so? Once in a while, sure, it's nice exercise, and it's not so bad most of the time, but after clambering on the slick slope for four hours, those stairs were as comforting as a warm fire on a cold day.
Yes, four hours. We got a pretty good workout...and the stairs were not the end. We had to walk downhill for a mile or two (and that really worked the calves well, that's for sure - it was steep).
We'd been in a little bit of a rush because 家寧 had to get to a meeting that started at 2. When we got into the town at the base of the mountain (again, I think it's called 景美), it was already 1:30 or so.
What happens next? Will we get back in time? Will we decide, "eh, screw it, let's have fun"? Or - does the unexpected happen?
This post is already huge, though, and I've got a couple other things to do tonight, so that's all for now! Tune in later for the conclusion!
In the meanwhile, you can occupy your time with The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny If you grew up in America during the 80s and 90s, you'll probably like this a lot. Even if you didn't, it's still pretty good. Thank you, Brandon, for reminding me of it!
I could talk for quite a while about it, but I've been meeting with this girl named 家寧 (Jia1ning2). Heh. Well, if you can't read that, I'm not going to translate it right this moment.
Anyway, Wednesday was a school holiday – it was the school's anniversary. Lots of speeches and things like that.
I, of course, don't care much for speeches, and even less when they're in a language I barely understand.
Anyway, since I had no class, and no compelling reason to stick around school, I'd asked 家寧 if she'd like to do something that day, maybe take a little bit of a hike into the hills around here. She did, and she said she knew of a good place to go.
Heheh. Well, I thought, for some reason, that we were going to this place I'd been to before, but that's because I wasn't paying attention.
We met at 8:00 AM in front of the school (unfortunately, I was slightly late - I'd decided to try breakfast in the basement, since there's a new girl working there, and she'd asked me the day before if I'd like to try something...she's almost overwhelmingly nice, and I think it's impossible not to like her, but, unfortunately, she doesn't cook real fast, and I was kind of cutting it close anyway - sorry 家寧!), rode the subway, then got on a bus. We were the only two on it for quite some time – oh, and of course, the bus's route number was 666.
After quite a while, the driver told us we had to get off and wait for another bus – he didn't want to drive so far for only two people. So we waited for the next bus.
It came, and it was crowded. Standing room only. But we only needed to go another ten minutes or so.
When we got off around 9:20 or so, I looked around, and made a remark like, “this looks different than I remember.” That's because I thought I was at 像山 (elephant mountain)...and not quite registering the fact that it took almost an hour to get there, while 像山 takes maybe 20 minutes. Well, fortunately, I think I was so confused that 家寧 might've assumed she just didn't understand what I was saying – which is extremely unlikely, since her English is better than most native speakers (she has little trouble reading Shakespeare, for example). Heh. Well, it temporarily saved me some embarrassment, anyway...though I'm sure she's going to end up reading this, or I'll remember to tell her. Yes, I really am that clueless sometimes.
I'm not entirely sure, but I think the place is called 文山 (wen2shan1 – I don't think it has any meaning). Or the mountain is. The town nearby might be called 景美 (jing3mei3), or something like that...but I'm not sure, because 景美 I think means “beautiful view.” It was, though. And we were headed to a place in the mountains called 皇帝殿. (Huang2di4dian4)...Emperor's Palace (though it's actually a temple).
All well and good, right?
The weather was almost perfect – almost – except that it was drizzling slightly. Other than that, it was very pleasant. And, being a weekday, there was nobody there but us. Very nice.
We walked for a ways to get to the trail. The road was steep, and then there were stairs. Lots of them. And I discovered my sandals – yes, sandals – were not especially well-suited to walking on slippery terrain. They were athletic sandals, mind you, but the grip leaves a little to be desired.
We walked up a fair number of stairs, enough to get tired of them, and then we came to the trail. It's a real trail, that's for sure - no pavement or any of that silly modern stuff. Heheh...just dirt and rocks, and tree roots. It was a nice change from the stairs, so I have to admit being a little excited to walk on it. So we walked a bit, the trail was fairly steep in places, the rain was only misting, and we were the only ones around.
After a while we came to a small, open-air temple. It was staffed by two dogs, an old man, and a radio blasting out some talk program. Probably politics - it sounded boisterous. The old man never acknowledged seeing us, but the dogs did. You know dogs - they're all optimists. They all think maybe they can beg something from you (well, except the mean ones). Across from the temple there was a short rise, a little hill, with some sort of incense-burning pit on it. So we scrambled up the rocky, slick, trail, and sat down on a small stone wall on the edge of the hill; the view was very nice. 家寧 had brought oranges in her bag, and she offered me one. I gladly accepted it: it goes without saying, but oranges are good, and I didn't have any food with me. One of the dogs had followed us, and was sniffing around for food...so I offered it the orange. I didn't expect it'd want any, but it took one sniff, then scrambled down the hill. Heh. I don't think I've ever seen a dog get that worked up over food. Well, the dog missed out on a mighty fine orange, that's for sure.
We enjoyed the view for a while, and then we moved on. We decided to go higher, towards another temple. The trail got steeper, and we were walking up rain-slick rocks and tree roots exclusively. The vegetation grew closer. And we climbed further and further.
At some point the trail got even steeper - it went up a slick rock slope. Someone had carved some shallow toe-holds, but they were very slippery with rain. Fortunately, someone had also put in some ropes, and chains. You literally pull yourself up the slope.
After walking some more, and coming to more of these steep slopes, we came to the top of the ridge. It looks fake - it's like walking on the edge of a giant stone knife. Someone some time ago hacked up the top layer of rock so that there's a flat path wide enough for one person, and that's what you walk on. To either side is a steep dropoff. It's so strange-looking I thought it was concrete at first.
I'll say this for Taiwan - safety isn't that big a deal here. heh. That might not sound entirely complimentary, but I mean it. In America, most places you go, someone's put up warning signs, and pavement, and guardrails, and stairs, and all sorts of other things, on the off chance that you might do something stupid and hurt yourself. Wouldn't want to get sued, after all.
Here, though, they put up whatever they feel like putting up, and you make the best of it. It feels a lot more free - it feels more like I'm choosing where to go and how to do it - in other places, you feel like someone's wound you up and set you on a nice little path, and you'll follow it like all the other little automatons, because heaven forbid anyone should deviate from the path.
Here's a picture I found of one of the slopes (I forgot to take pictures until we were about to leave, so this isn't my photo) -
In dry weather, it wouldn't be too difficult to climb up without that chain. In wet weather it is extremely difficult. But it's fun! And you get to do it often. There are metal chain ladders, too (they're more slippery than the rock, but they're found in areas where you couldn't safely climb up or down the stone face unless you were an experienced climber).
I had joked, before leaving, that we weren't really going for a hike, more like a short walk. I wasn't expecting much, you know.
I was extraordinarily wrong. But I'm glad to have been wrong - we got muddy, and wet, and had to climb a lot, and used our balance maybe a little, and halfway fell down several times. It was fun. It's much more rewarding to be challenged on your 'walk'.
Anyway, here are some more photos of the area:
That's the part of the path that does have railing - like I said, it's very narrow, and in most places there is no railing at all.
Just another view of part of the ridge. Also with barriers.
The rain slowed us down quite a bit. I didn't exactly know where I was going, and 家寧 didn't know which way to go, so we never actually reached that other temple. We passed above it, and saw its roof. It was a nice roof, for sure, but I hadn't planned on seeing that part. heh. Well, there was a lot more climbing up and down, and slick rocks, and trees roots, and ropes, and ladders, and etc. And finally, we arrived near an entrance. That path had smoothed out. I finally remembered to take pictures -
Doesn't look too steep, right? That's because this is almost at the exit.
That's a bit more like it! Now imagine climbing trails like that for several miles.
And I don't mean by 'climbing' the more general sense of "gaining (or descending) in altitude", either - I literally mean holding onto things and pulling yourself up, or lowering yourself, like she's doing right there.
Then we came across an unexpectedly welcome sight - stairs.
This's looking back up at them.
Most of the time, seeing stairs is slightly unpleasant - who can say they honestly really enjoy climbing the things, or that they look forward to every opportunity to do so? Once in a while, sure, it's nice exercise, and it's not so bad most of the time, but after clambering on the slick slope for four hours, those stairs were as comforting as a warm fire on a cold day.
Yes, four hours. We got a pretty good workout...and the stairs were not the end. We had to walk downhill for a mile or two (and that really worked the calves well, that's for sure - it was steep).
We'd been in a little bit of a rush because 家寧 had to get to a meeting that started at 2. When we got into the town at the base of the mountain (again, I think it's called 景美), it was already 1:30 or so.
What happens next? Will we get back in time? Will we decide, "eh, screw it, let's have fun"? Or - does the unexpected happen?
This post is already huge, though, and I've got a couple other things to do tonight, so that's all for now! Tune in later for the conclusion!
In the meanwhile, you can occupy your time with The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny If you grew up in America during the 80s and 90s, you'll probably like this a lot. Even if you didn't, it's still pretty good. Thank you, Brandon, for reminding me of it!
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Time again
Ah, yes, always time. That's what I say before I post, and thus, the post moves through time to some later time. It's quite amazing.
Seriously, though, it's about time I posted again. I won't write long; I have to get up early tomorrow morning.
A few posts ago, or maybe last post (I can't check right now), I mentioned that I found some...interesting hot dogs. If you somehow have not seen them, then now is your lucky moment:
Since I suppose I don't write much about how I'm actually doing, I should mention that I am doing just fine. Things here aren't too bad, and I often come across interesting things, or slightly odd things happen to me.
Like three nights ago - I was returning...
oh! From the bookstore! Yeah, I went to buy some things to supplement my literary studies...comic books. In Chinese. That way, they might be simple enough that I can read them. I've already tried, and it's not too terribly difficult - I know about 75% of what's being said. I just don't know the important parts. 加油!
heh. Anyway, I was heading back on the subway. I got to this transfer station, and, while I was walking from one terminal to another (is that the right word? It doesn't seem quite right), some old guy looked at me, saw I was going to walk right by him, and yelled for me to stop.
I had my doubts, but I wasn't in a hurry or anything.
So I stopped. I'll try to recreate our dazzling conversation:
OG (yeah, the original gangster...or old guy, whichever makes it more fun): "Sir, I will guess, I will guess today you wake up late. I can tell."
Me: "Yes, I did." (not exactly hard to guess - I was more awake looking than most other people around, at 11 PM, and besides that, I'm obviously young and dumb enough to sleep in on weekends).
OG: "You health, very important. I can tell, if I look at palm."
Me: "No, thanks."
OG: "liver, heart, organs - I can tell if healthy. Good health is important."
Me: "..."
OG: "You must take care - sleep early tonight. Stay up late bad for health. Must be asleep by 11." (Keep in mind that it's about 10:50 at this point).
Me: "Yes, I'll go to sleep early tonight."
OG: "Good health very important. Won't be sick if you take care. I look palm, tell you, you take medicine. Very cheap!"
Me: "No thank you."
OG: "Very cheap! 200NT!"
Me: "No."
OG: "Go to hospital, you...you...reg...uh...regular? uh, single word..."
Me: "register."
OG: "Yes! Go to hospital, register, already cost 200 NT. I can tell! Very cheap! Very fast! Have good health!"
Me: "I don't get sick."
OG: "Very important! Only opportunity! You are very lucky, I can tell! I look at you, think, he is very lucky person, so I talk to you!"
Me: "...yeah."
OG: "just let me see your palm!"
Me: "No thank you. I have to go."
I forget exactly what he said then, but he seemed shocked, even wounded that I would just walk away. Like I was his good friend, and had just told him that I actually hated him. But he stayed polite, and walked away with wounded dignity. I almost forgot about the whole thing until just a minute ago.
That's the first time I've been approached by a palm-reader, a chinese medicine guy, or much of anything else. Sure, there's homeless people here, and some of the handicapped and/or veterans will ask you to buy things on the street (usually gum or something like that), but they aren't nearly so insistant - they know when to move on. And more than that, they don't go for just one person - they go for everyone.
This guy specifically approached me, though - the station was full of people, even at that time of night, and he stopped, and wanted to talk to me.
Heh. Well, I suppose I did someone a favor by talking to the old guy - someone else didn't have to listen to his spiel.
Also, I had awesome dumplings today. I think they were called, 上海上壂(?)包子. I'm not real sure what that fourth character is, so it's probably wrong. And honestly, I don't remember if they were called 包子 or not, though they probably were. Well, whatever. They were good. Oh - and before I forget again, since most of you know even less Chinese than I do, that's something like "Shanghai style dumpling-thingies." Man they were good. They were a little expensive ($100 NT for 5 - so, like $3 US - keep in mind, though, you can get plain old potstickers for like 10 cents here), but they were definitely worth it.
Since I've got an early bedtime tonight, that's all for now - and besides, it's hard to read long posts, right?
I still haven't explained the pictures of squirrels. Or my trips. Or my teaching. heheh. Well, later.
Seriously, though, it's about time I posted again. I won't write long; I have to get up early tomorrow morning.
A few posts ago, or maybe last post (I can't check right now), I mentioned that I found some...interesting hot dogs. If you somehow have not seen them, then now is your lucky moment:
Since I suppose I don't write much about how I'm actually doing, I should mention that I am doing just fine. Things here aren't too bad, and I often come across interesting things, or slightly odd things happen to me.
Like three nights ago - I was returning...
oh! From the bookstore! Yeah, I went to buy some things to supplement my literary studies...comic books. In Chinese. That way, they might be simple enough that I can read them. I've already tried, and it's not too terribly difficult - I know about 75% of what's being said. I just don't know the important parts. 加油!
heh. Anyway, I was heading back on the subway. I got to this transfer station, and, while I was walking from one terminal to another (is that the right word? It doesn't seem quite right), some old guy looked at me, saw I was going to walk right by him, and yelled for me to stop.
I had my doubts, but I wasn't in a hurry or anything.
So I stopped. I'll try to recreate our dazzling conversation:
OG (yeah, the original gangster...or old guy, whichever makes it more fun): "Sir, I will guess, I will guess today you wake up late. I can tell."
Me: "Yes, I did." (not exactly hard to guess - I was more awake looking than most other people around, at 11 PM, and besides that, I'm obviously young and dumb enough to sleep in on weekends).
OG: "You health, very important. I can tell, if I look at palm."
Me: "No, thanks."
OG: "liver, heart, organs - I can tell if healthy. Good health is important."
Me: "..."
OG: "You must take care - sleep early tonight. Stay up late bad for health. Must be asleep by 11." (Keep in mind that it's about 10:50 at this point).
Me: "Yes, I'll go to sleep early tonight."
OG: "Good health very important. Won't be sick if you take care. I look palm, tell you, you take medicine. Very cheap!"
Me: "No thank you."
OG: "Very cheap! 200NT!"
Me: "No."
OG: "Go to hospital, you...you...reg...uh...regular? uh, single word..."
Me: "register."
OG: "Yes! Go to hospital, register, already cost 200 NT. I can tell! Very cheap! Very fast! Have good health!"
Me: "I don't get sick."
OG: "Very important! Only opportunity! You are very lucky, I can tell! I look at you, think, he is very lucky person, so I talk to you!"
Me: "...yeah."
OG: "just let me see your palm!"
Me: "No thank you. I have to go."
I forget exactly what he said then, but he seemed shocked, even wounded that I would just walk away. Like I was his good friend, and had just told him that I actually hated him. But he stayed polite, and walked away with wounded dignity. I almost forgot about the whole thing until just a minute ago.
That's the first time I've been approached by a palm-reader, a chinese medicine guy, or much of anything else. Sure, there's homeless people here, and some of the handicapped and/or veterans will ask you to buy things on the street (usually gum or something like that), but they aren't nearly so insistant - they know when to move on. And more than that, they don't go for just one person - they go for everyone.
This guy specifically approached me, though - the station was full of people, even at that time of night, and he stopped, and wanted to talk to me.
Heh. Well, I suppose I did someone a favor by talking to the old guy - someone else didn't have to listen to his spiel.
Also, I had awesome dumplings today. I think they were called, 上海上壂(?)包子. I'm not real sure what that fourth character is, so it's probably wrong. And honestly, I don't remember if they were called 包子 or not, though they probably were. Well, whatever. They were good. Oh - and before I forget again, since most of you know even less Chinese than I do, that's something like "Shanghai style dumpling-thingies." Man they were good. They were a little expensive ($100 NT for 5 - so, like $3 US - keep in mind, though, you can get plain old potstickers for like 10 cents here), but they were definitely worth it.
Since I've got an early bedtime tonight, that's all for now - and besides, it's hard to read long posts, right?
I still haven't explained the pictures of squirrels. Or my trips. Or my teaching. heheh. Well, later.
Friday, November 03, 2006
For now there are pictures
I'll start by saying I have no clear idea what I'm going to say.
Well, I was going to write some of my thoughts about Taiwan, but...I forgot what they were. Heheh.
I've uploaded a lot of photos, but I don't feel like writing down the details of my trips very much. heh. So lazy. But you can go look.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/pointyflakes/
I finally got a somewhat easy to remember address! Awesome!
Oh! Well, I could write about some other trips I'd taken and forgotten about, since I just saw the pictures again (I transfered them from my camera to my computer) - but it's already 2 AM here, and I need to get up at a reasonable time so I can call my family (I haven't talked to you all in like 2 or three weeks!). Also so I can go play board games...at a coffeehouse. Weird combination, right?
Later, then. For now, there are pictures.
Well, I was going to write some of my thoughts about Taiwan, but...I forgot what they were. Heheh.
I've uploaded a lot of photos, but I don't feel like writing down the details of my trips very much. heh. So lazy. But you can go look.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/pointyflakes/
I finally got a somewhat easy to remember address! Awesome!
Oh! Well, I could write about some other trips I'd taken and forgotten about, since I just saw the pictures again (I transfered them from my camera to my computer) - but it's already 2 AM here, and I need to get up at a reasonable time so I can call my family (I haven't talked to you all in like 2 or three weeks!). Also so I can go play board games...at a coffeehouse. Weird combination, right?
Later, then. For now, there are pictures.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Bite-sized bits
(Warning: I am about to get smarmy and, at times, ludicrously loquacious. I've been reading recently, and not writing much; this is the result.)
Today was mostly uneventful, as are most days....
I went to the 'bakery' down the street after dinner (in quotes because, while the things they sell are made from dough, I wouldn't say they consisted mostly of it - they consist equally of sugar and mayonnaise, and bacon, and corn, and...well, I'm not real sure, actually; I'd call it more of a bread medley. A breadley store...I like that. Perhaps they should serve there those fancy coffees with the fancy toppings, like whipped cream and sprinkles. Coiffured coffees. Yes, Coiffee. Coiffee and Breadley store. heheh. That pretty well describes the places here.), and found something amazing -
French bread.
Alright, not so amazing back home, rather ordinary, in fact. About as plain and ordinary as you can get. Everyday, even, if you're French.
However, this is not France, or Europe, or even America. Oh no. This is Taiwan.
I have been here four months, and this is the first perfectly ordinary bread I've seen. They do have sandwich bread...but that's not what I'm talking about. If you went into a stationery store (there are some that move, after all, so I had to be specific) and asked if they have pens, and were shown a collection of ink and sharp sticks, you'd be slightly disappointed. Oh, sure, they can be used for writing, but they aren't pens. Same with the bread.
I and the guy I was with (Kyle - who fancies himself good enough to serve the Army after he graduates) almost bought out the store. That's not hard when there are only three loaves to begin with.
I returned home, immediately started on the deliciously normal bread, then decided that, since I was making a mess on my floor (it's properly crusty, after all - the bread. I sweep my floor more often that that.), I should go make a mess in the hall.
So I went into the hall and restarted my bread. (Though thank goodness it hadn't crashed in the middle of my...downloading it. heh. I'd just brush it off, then.)
I created a minor stir (appropriate since those interned here are stewing..so of course they need stirring) by standing there, holding bread. I hadn't expected that. Several people approached, and were incredulous that ordinary bread could be found in Taiwan; a few had undisguised lust in their eyes. They said they'd have to have a talk with the baker, that perhaps an understanding could be reached.
In fact, it was so unusual I was going to take pictures...but the stomach sometimes moves faster than the eye. My traitor hands consorted with my mouth and gullet, instead of with my eyes and the camera. Bah. Well, some say there's a void in each of us that must be filled, but can never be (except, perhaps, by God) - for me, that's probably my belly. heh. In that case, maybe I'd need a lot of communion wafers, if it's only God who can fill it. Heheh.
Also: I found hotdogs with bones in them.
Today was mostly uneventful, as are most days....
I went to the 'bakery' down the street after dinner (in quotes because, while the things they sell are made from dough, I wouldn't say they consisted mostly of it - they consist equally of sugar and mayonnaise, and bacon, and corn, and...well, I'm not real sure, actually; I'd call it more of a bread medley. A breadley store...I like that. Perhaps they should serve there those fancy coffees with the fancy toppings, like whipped cream and sprinkles. Coiffured coffees. Yes, Coiffee. Coiffee and Breadley store. heheh. That pretty well describes the places here.), and found something amazing -
French bread.
Alright, not so amazing back home, rather ordinary, in fact. About as plain and ordinary as you can get. Everyday, even, if you're French.
However, this is not France, or Europe, or even America. Oh no. This is Taiwan.
I have been here four months, and this is the first perfectly ordinary bread I've seen. They do have sandwich bread...but that's not what I'm talking about. If you went into a stationery store (there are some that move, after all, so I had to be specific) and asked if they have pens, and were shown a collection of ink and sharp sticks, you'd be slightly disappointed. Oh, sure, they can be used for writing, but they aren't pens. Same with the bread.
I and the guy I was with (Kyle - who fancies himself good enough to serve the Army after he graduates) almost bought out the store. That's not hard when there are only three loaves to begin with.
I returned home, immediately started on the deliciously normal bread, then decided that, since I was making a mess on my floor (it's properly crusty, after all - the bread. I sweep my floor more often that that.), I should go make a mess in the hall.
So I went into the hall and restarted my bread. (Though thank goodness it hadn't crashed in the middle of my...downloading it. heh. I'd just brush it off, then.)
I created a minor stir (appropriate since those interned here are stewing..so of course they need stirring) by standing there, holding bread. I hadn't expected that. Several people approached, and were incredulous that ordinary bread could be found in Taiwan; a few had undisguised lust in their eyes. They said they'd have to have a talk with the baker, that perhaps an understanding could be reached.
In fact, it was so unusual I was going to take pictures...but the stomach sometimes moves faster than the eye. My traitor hands consorted with my mouth and gullet, instead of with my eyes and the camera. Bah. Well, some say there's a void in each of us that must be filled, but can never be (except, perhaps, by God) - for me, that's probably my belly. heh. In that case, maybe I'd need a lot of communion wafers, if it's only God who can fill it. Heheh.
Also: I found hotdogs with bones in them.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Mistaken ID
It's been a little while since I've written about what I'm doing, right? I mean to right that, now. (oh, pun!)
Oh, but before I get into it, I think I'll write about today. There isn't much, I promise.
Last night I stayed up extraordinarily late, doing nothing. So today, I woke up and was shocked to see it was already almost 3:00 PM. I handled this situation by playing a game for several hours, followed by an e-mail check, and then finally a shower. By the time I was done with all that, it was ~7:15. I gave Erika a call, since I thought she might not have eaten yet - ah, but she had. Too bad. I was hungry though, and actually, I like looking for food alone, because I enjoy roaming around and seeing what there is to see. Some other people aren't quite so philosophically/exploratorily inclined...heheh. They want to find food quickly, and aren't nearly so willing to walk into strange parts of the city to get it.
I had a hunger that only pizza would satisfy. Yes, I was in need of some cheesegreasecrust. It's a food group that only piza belongs to. Hmm...and maybe breadsticks.
Anyway, it's hard to find pizza around here. Other places I've been to it hasn't been very difficult at all (not that I looked often). I've eaten at a Pizza Hut here, and it was good, just like home - but I can't remember now where it is. And I don't know how to look it up online, since Pizza Hut doesn't list it on their normal website, and I don't know how to find the Chinese one.
I went to the Taipei 101 area, since there are lots of restaurants and malls and things there. I didn't find any pizza. But, I was twice mistaken for a businessman, even though I am dressed like I usually am (except I've been wearing shorts here). One guy at a nice electronics store was trying to sell me a really nice notebook computer that you could write on, and another that's got leather everwhere. His English was very good, soI politely told him I'd just bought a laptop, and wasn't looking for another (especially since the leatherbound one was 68,800 NT - $2,070 dollars or so.)
8:45 was approaching, and most restaurants close around 9:30. I was getting less choosy, and so I ended up going to a Ruby Tuesday. Yes, they have those here, but not many; in fact, this may be the only one.
It was crammed with people, and they only had seats at the bar. Since the place was nonsmoking, I decided sitting there was better than waiting, so I did, and ordered a burger and things.
I didn't look very carefully when I entered the place...my eyes were drawn to the food, and empty seats, and my senses were mostly devoted to figuring out what smelled really good. If I had looked, though, I'd have noticed that the place was jamned full of foreigners. I did notice the menu was all in English, and that the entire staff seemed to speak that awesome language, but didn't quite make the connection. In my defense, I hadn't eaten all day, so people came as a lower priority than food.
So there was this guy at the bar. 55, maybe. Bald. What hair's left is white. Portly. Businessman.
I am waiting for my food to come, but instead, he does, asks where I'm from, if it's business that's brought me here, etc. I answer, and ask what he does. He says he has some offices here and in China. He doesn't proceed to tell me anything more about it, so I ask again, and then he says, "I'd tell you, but then -". You know how that sentence ends. I am tempted, every time I hear that phrase, to kill the speaker. It's in self-defense, you know. They might tell me against my wishes, then have to kill me. So, to prevent that, and to prevent having to hear that damn phrase again, I might just have to go pre-emptive. heh.
Anyway, he says right after that, "well, I saw you there, and prayed to God, and he told me that you're very lonely."
I was sitting by myself, mind you. At a bar. I said, wasn't it possible you just looked over here and saw me alone? He seemed a little flustered. But he continued.
"Well, I'm not going to say it's wrong to drink - I have a beer, myself, but I want you to know God is thinking about you."
It goes on like this for a little while. I then thank him for his time and concern, and he leaves.
Mind you, I don't mind people trying to help me. And I don't have anything against God. However, if God had truly informed this man, he would know that in fact I was not lonely, I was enjoying myself. Yesterday I was lonely. But today, though my friends are all busy, I was having fun looking around. It was a case of his assuming too much.
And then later, he said (I admit, I eavesdrop...pretty much all the time. Especially when it's in a language I know) to his friend that sometimes he says God tells him things, so that basically he won't personally have to take the blame if he's guessed wrong. I hadn't thought of it quite like that - I suppose that's sort of clever. Fake, and contemptible, but clever. My first feeling about the guy was right - he was a bit off. But now I'm curious what he was planning.
Well, look at that. I meant to just write a little short bit. You know by now that that's impossible, whereas I seem not to be fully aware of that, yet. More later.
Oh, but before I get into it, I think I'll write about today. There isn't much, I promise.
Last night I stayed up extraordinarily late, doing nothing. So today, I woke up and was shocked to see it was already almost 3:00 PM. I handled this situation by playing a game for several hours, followed by an e-mail check, and then finally a shower. By the time I was done with all that, it was ~7:15. I gave Erika a call, since I thought she might not have eaten yet - ah, but she had. Too bad. I was hungry though, and actually, I like looking for food alone, because I enjoy roaming around and seeing what there is to see. Some other people aren't quite so philosophically/exploratorily inclined...heheh. They want to find food quickly, and aren't nearly so willing to walk into strange parts of the city to get it.
I had a hunger that only pizza would satisfy. Yes, I was in need of some cheesegreasecrust. It's a food group that only piza belongs to. Hmm...and maybe breadsticks.
Anyway, it's hard to find pizza around here. Other places I've been to it hasn't been very difficult at all (not that I looked often). I've eaten at a Pizza Hut here, and it was good, just like home - but I can't remember now where it is. And I don't know how to look it up online, since Pizza Hut doesn't list it on their normal website, and I don't know how to find the Chinese one.
I went to the Taipei 101 area, since there are lots of restaurants and malls and things there. I didn't find any pizza. But, I was twice mistaken for a businessman, even though I am dressed like I usually am (except I've been wearing shorts here). One guy at a nice electronics store was trying to sell me a really nice notebook computer that you could write on, and another that's got leather everwhere. His English was very good, soI politely told him I'd just bought a laptop, and wasn't looking for another (especially since the leatherbound one was 68,800 NT - $2,070 dollars or so.)
8:45 was approaching, and most restaurants close around 9:30. I was getting less choosy, and so I ended up going to a Ruby Tuesday. Yes, they have those here, but not many; in fact, this may be the only one.
It was crammed with people, and they only had seats at the bar. Since the place was nonsmoking, I decided sitting there was better than waiting, so I did, and ordered a burger and things.
I didn't look very carefully when I entered the place...my eyes were drawn to the food, and empty seats, and my senses were mostly devoted to figuring out what smelled really good. If I had looked, though, I'd have noticed that the place was jamned full of foreigners. I did notice the menu was all in English, and that the entire staff seemed to speak that awesome language, but didn't quite make the connection. In my defense, I hadn't eaten all day, so people came as a lower priority than food.
So there was this guy at the bar. 55, maybe. Bald. What hair's left is white. Portly. Businessman.
I am waiting for my food to come, but instead, he does, asks where I'm from, if it's business that's brought me here, etc. I answer, and ask what he does. He says he has some offices here and in China. He doesn't proceed to tell me anything more about it, so I ask again, and then he says, "I'd tell you, but then -". You know how that sentence ends. I am tempted, every time I hear that phrase, to kill the speaker. It's in self-defense, you know. They might tell me against my wishes, then have to kill me. So, to prevent that, and to prevent having to hear that damn phrase again, I might just have to go pre-emptive. heh.
Anyway, he says right after that, "well, I saw you there, and prayed to God, and he told me that you're very lonely."
I was sitting by myself, mind you. At a bar. I said, wasn't it possible you just looked over here and saw me alone? He seemed a little flustered. But he continued.
"Well, I'm not going to say it's wrong to drink - I have a beer, myself, but I want you to know God is thinking about you."
It goes on like this for a little while. I then thank him for his time and concern, and he leaves.
Mind you, I don't mind people trying to help me. And I don't have anything against God. However, if God had truly informed this man, he would know that in fact I was not lonely, I was enjoying myself. Yesterday I was lonely. But today, though my friends are all busy, I was having fun looking around. It was a case of his assuming too much.
And then later, he said (I admit, I eavesdrop...pretty much all the time. Especially when it's in a language I know) to his friend that sometimes he says God tells him things, so that basically he won't personally have to take the blame if he's guessed wrong. I hadn't thought of it quite like that - I suppose that's sort of clever. Fake, and contemptible, but clever. My first feeling about the guy was right - he was a bit off. But now I'm curious what he was planning.
Well, look at that. I meant to just write a little short bit. You know by now that that's impossible, whereas I seem not to be fully aware of that, yet. More later.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Just a little poem for the two weddings I'm missing
The Key, my friends,
to holy wedlock
cannot be found -
Like safecrackers, then,
you must have keen ears,
and in patience abound
Or for sixty years
my grandparents
have been merrily misinformed.
Go, then, take a crack at it!
See what marriage has in store!
The treasures of love are best held
in the ring-clad hands of lovers, after all.
to holy wedlock
cannot be found -
Like safecrackers, then,
you must have keen ears,
and in patience abound
Or for sixty years
my grandparents
have been merrily misinformed.
Go, then, take a crack at it!
See what marriage has in store!
The treasures of love are best held
in the ring-clad hands of lovers, after all.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Swimming
Morris wanted to swim.
His grandmother, though, wanted him not to. A girl she'd known had drowned in the river next to her house, and so she forbade her family from swimming. She thought this would keep her family safe.
Morris thought this was unfair. He knew if he could just learn to swim, then he would never need to fear drowning. But he was not allowed to swim.
He often asked his grandmother why he could not swim. She told him it was better that way, but he didn't believe her. He often begged to try, and sometimes snuck out on his own. He never swam, though, because every time he looked at the water, he knew his grandmother would find out.
One day, near the river, he found his grandmother walking. Morris went to her and asked, "Grandmother, isn't it true that people who can swim won't drown?"
She replied, "Morris, you stupid boy. I am not going to say yes. Swimming is forbidden in this family."
"But...grandmother - you wouldn't have to worry about - "
"I SAID NO!," she shrieked. "NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO SWIM!"
"Grandmother,” he said quietly, “no one in our family is ever allowed to swim?”
"NOT EVER!”
So Morris threw her in the river.
"Help me!", she gurgled, splashing around.
"I can't, grandma – no one in our family is allowed to swim!"
"Stop with that nonsense boy!"
"It's true! We both would drown!"
She stopped thrashing, and calmly treaded water. She began swimming to shore.
"Grandmother! I thought you couldn't swim!"
"Of course I can, you worthless miscreant."
Morris watched her.
"You’re just a hypocrite! You know how to swim, but you won't let us learn!"
She got out of the water and tried to grab Morris, but he was much stronger and faster. He shoved her back into the water, hard, but this time she landed in the current.
"Well,” he said, smiling a little, “since no one in our family is ever allowed to swim, you must not be in my family. So I don't have to listen to you, anyway.”
And the river quickly dragged her away, kicking and screaming (the river, though, went along quite smoothly).
From that day, Morris learned to swim.
And some people say the fish in the sea, downstream from there, seemed to forget what they were born knowing. They kept turning up drowned. But no one saw the old woman again.
His grandmother, though, wanted him not to. A girl she'd known had drowned in the river next to her house, and so she forbade her family from swimming. She thought this would keep her family safe.
Morris thought this was unfair. He knew if he could just learn to swim, then he would never need to fear drowning. But he was not allowed to swim.
He often asked his grandmother why he could not swim. She told him it was better that way, but he didn't believe her. He often begged to try, and sometimes snuck out on his own. He never swam, though, because every time he looked at the water, he knew his grandmother would find out.
One day, near the river, he found his grandmother walking. Morris went to her and asked, "Grandmother, isn't it true that people who can swim won't drown?"
She replied, "Morris, you stupid boy. I am not going to say yes. Swimming is forbidden in this family."
"But...grandmother - you wouldn't have to worry about - "
"I SAID NO!," she shrieked. "NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO SWIM!"
"Grandmother,” he said quietly, “no one in our family is ever allowed to swim?”
"NOT EVER!”
So Morris threw her in the river.
"Help me!", she gurgled, splashing around.
"I can't, grandma – no one in our family is allowed to swim!"
"Stop with that nonsense boy!"
"It's true! We both would drown!"
She stopped thrashing, and calmly treaded water. She began swimming to shore.
"Grandmother! I thought you couldn't swim!"
"Of course I can, you worthless miscreant."
Morris watched her.
"You’re just a hypocrite! You know how to swim, but you won't let us learn!"
She got out of the water and tried to grab Morris, but he was much stronger and faster. He shoved her back into the water, hard, but this time she landed in the current.
"Well,” he said, smiling a little, “since no one in our family is ever allowed to swim, you must not be in my family. So I don't have to listen to you, anyway.”
And the river quickly dragged her away, kicking and screaming (the river, though, went along quite smoothly).
From that day, Morris learned to swim.
And some people say the fish in the sea, downstream from there, seemed to forget what they were born knowing. They kept turning up drowned. But no one saw the old woman again.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
The skinny on a bare bear.
There was a bear, and this bear, he had no hair. He swore, "I will get to the bottom of this, no matter how deep it goes!"
So he asked the parrot, but the parrot wouldn't talk. It was acting flighty, besides.
He ate the parrot.
He asked the earthworm, but it had no dirt. He ate it, and was left with a bad taste in his mouth.
He asked the giraffe, since it sticks its neck into everything - but it held its head high. The bear ate it, too, but was only hungry enough to shorten the legs.
"That'll bring him down to earth," said the bear.
He asked the elephant, since it sticks its nose into all sorts of thing, and has great ears besides. But things did not go well. Elephants are very sensitive to questions about hair.
The bear left before anything went down.
He asked the bee, since it's a busybody, but all its buzz was maddeningly inane. Bees are bad to eat. He did eat its house and honey, though.
The lurking spiders hadn't seen anything, nor caught anything in their secret webs; the birds wouldn't sing, the rats didn't squeak, and the owls only asked, "who?"
After all this grilling, the bear was now full - both of food and questions. He was also full of disappointment, and sighs.
So, when he met a pack of punk dogs, he did not ask for answers.
These punk dogs had perhaps once been hot, but they'd shaved off their hair. Now they were unleashed - they always did just as they pleased. The huge hairless bear was a big hit; before long he found himself with piercings and tattoos covering his bare skin, just like the pack he ran with. He felt happy, and free.
Then winter came. And it was cold - its' bite was especially bad through the new metal barbs in his skin.
The dogs said they would go to their homes; they would return to their masters, whom would not welcome a bear. But the bear was still bald, and could not sleep soundly through the long winter's night. Angry, he asked the dogs:
"What do you know of my barrenness?"
"Nothing till now. Ask the doctor, not us."
And he growled.
"Oh! Then, you're a baron, looking for his wife?"
He grumbled.
"No? Why worry? You, being barren, will match the empty land of ice - and like cannot hurt like; you will not freeze."
"I want my hair."
They barked with laughter, and told him he would be a traitor to rebellion if he should want such a thing. He thought of those dogs, hot by the fire, and decided he'd rather it be him full of hot dogs, than those homes.
Their piercings got stuck in his teeth, and he wandered the snowy cold, miserable, in need of floss, and alone (but for a pack of done hot dogs).
It was late and dark when a light dawned on him, and there, stood his fairy bearmother. "What is the matter, you naked mess? Were you born just now, fat, naked, full-grown, and alone?"
He was cold, and hungry, and his spirits were low, not like this flying one, and so he grumbled that he was bare, and that his bare back would be much better if he could get his bear hair back.
She growled, "your answer's as obvious as your birthday suit, and would suitably conceal that, too. Or is your head as empty as your coat?"
But he was a bear, and not terribly clever. Instantly he thought of eating her, and she said "I've been watching you, though not for the view. Think it again - you'll lose your skin, too." Fairy bears are big and hairy, flying, and very scary.
So he left.
He wandered the wintry wastes. He asked the wind for answers, but it only whispered. The wolves howled, the trees sighed, fishing was fruitless, and even the rivers froze up. No answers came.
Lumbering along, he again found the giraffe, though now, as it lay on the ground, they could see eye-to-eye. "Arrogant animal, see how I've grounded you!" laughed the bear, darkly, at his own cut-down. "But we two are too alike now - cold, but only you from the icy grip that even spring won't thaw; yet." Then he saw it would no longer need its coat, said,
"We shall come close for warmth," and took it for his own.
His investigations over, the bear was glad to find some sort of cover-up. "Finally! A solution to that hairy problem!" the bear exclaimed.
"Better yet, I didn't have to beg or borrow, and there's no ugly, bothersome to-pay!"
And somewhere, the fairy bearmother laughed.
Who knew a cover-up could be so heartwarming?
So he asked the parrot, but the parrot wouldn't talk. It was acting flighty, besides.
He ate the parrot.
He asked the earthworm, but it had no dirt. He ate it, and was left with a bad taste in his mouth.
He asked the giraffe, since it sticks its neck into everything - but it held its head high. The bear ate it, too, but was only hungry enough to shorten the legs.
"That'll bring him down to earth," said the bear.
He asked the elephant, since it sticks its nose into all sorts of thing, and has great ears besides. But things did not go well. Elephants are very sensitive to questions about hair.
The bear left before anything went down.
He asked the bee, since it's a busybody, but all its buzz was maddeningly inane. Bees are bad to eat. He did eat its house and honey, though.
The lurking spiders hadn't seen anything, nor caught anything in their secret webs; the birds wouldn't sing, the rats didn't squeak, and the owls only asked, "who?"
After all this grilling, the bear was now full - both of food and questions. He was also full of disappointment, and sighs.
So, when he met a pack of punk dogs, he did not ask for answers.
These punk dogs had perhaps once been hot, but they'd shaved off their hair. Now they were unleashed - they always did just as they pleased. The huge hairless bear was a big hit; before long he found himself with piercings and tattoos covering his bare skin, just like the pack he ran with. He felt happy, and free.
Then winter came. And it was cold - its' bite was especially bad through the new metal barbs in his skin.
The dogs said they would go to their homes; they would return to their masters, whom would not welcome a bear. But the bear was still bald, and could not sleep soundly through the long winter's night. Angry, he asked the dogs:
"What do you know of my barrenness?"
"Nothing till now. Ask the doctor, not us."
And he growled.
"Oh! Then, you're a baron, looking for his wife?"
He grumbled.
"No? Why worry? You, being barren, will match the empty land of ice - and like cannot hurt like; you will not freeze."
"I want my hair."
They barked with laughter, and told him he would be a traitor to rebellion if he should want such a thing. He thought of those dogs, hot by the fire, and decided he'd rather it be him full of hot dogs, than those homes.
Their piercings got stuck in his teeth, and he wandered the snowy cold, miserable, in need of floss, and alone (but for a pack of done hot dogs).
It was late and dark when a light dawned on him, and there, stood his fairy bearmother. "What is the matter, you naked mess? Were you born just now, fat, naked, full-grown, and alone?"
He was cold, and hungry, and his spirits were low, not like this flying one, and so he grumbled that he was bare, and that his bare back would be much better if he could get his bear hair back.
She growled, "your answer's as obvious as your birthday suit, and would suitably conceal that, too. Or is your head as empty as your coat?"
But he was a bear, and not terribly clever. Instantly he thought of eating her, and she said "I've been watching you, though not for the view. Think it again - you'll lose your skin, too." Fairy bears are big and hairy, flying, and very scary.
So he left.
He wandered the wintry wastes. He asked the wind for answers, but it only whispered. The wolves howled, the trees sighed, fishing was fruitless, and even the rivers froze up. No answers came.
Lumbering along, he again found the giraffe, though now, as it lay on the ground, they could see eye-to-eye. "Arrogant animal, see how I've grounded you!" laughed the bear, darkly, at his own cut-down. "But we two are too alike now - cold, but only you from the icy grip that even spring won't thaw; yet." Then he saw it would no longer need its coat, said,
"We shall come close for warmth," and took it for his own.
His investigations over, the bear was glad to find some sort of cover-up. "Finally! A solution to that hairy problem!" the bear exclaimed.
"Better yet, I didn't have to beg or borrow, and there's no ugly, bothersome to-pay!"
And somewhere, the fairy bearmother laughed.
Who knew a cover-up could be so heartwarming?
Sunday, September 17, 2006
My cross-country trip
Sounds impressive, right? Taiwan can be driven across in something like 7 hours though, so I suppose it's not saying much.
As you've noticed, (I know by your admonishments), I haven't written much lately. I'll start with my arrival at NTU - there are things I'd still like to say about my summer, but I should write a little about what I'm doing now.
Alright - time for a narrative.
It was a sunny Sunday morning when I meant to leave, three weeks ago now. I'd returned to Tainan from Jia Yi the previous evening, seen a few of the remaining teachers, and then stayed up late to say goodbye to the Canadians (they left at 3 AM, because, as godless Canadians, they have awful lives; I like them anyway, though).
That sunny Sunday morning I mentioned was nearly over by the time I got up. So I showered, went to eat, came back, and found that a big group was going to leave for lunch. I'd just eaten and needed to pack, so I figured they'd eat and come back soon enough, and I'd be done packing, and could say goodbye then.
I packed my stuff.
And I waited.
Something I might have mentioned before is that the students here seemed to like us. So, while I was waiting, there were two students just hanging out at the World Passport office - Emily and Vinnie, whom I'd never met before. There was nothing else to do, they were nice, and they seemed to like me, so we spent some time talking; they told me I could take the bus instead of the train, and that it was cheaper but just as fast. We checked it out online, and sure enough, the bus was a better deal. Also important: I brought enough stuff for a year, and I gained quite a bit more stuff while teaching - so I had two bags weighing about 50 lbs apiece - and that's very difficult to maneuver with, or even find a place for on the train. The bus has a place for luggage.
I kept waiting: around 3 or 3:30, most of the people who'd left came back. I have a volunteer at NTU who's supposed to show me around and help me out, and I'd emailed her saying I'd be getting in sometime Sunday afternoon - originally I'd planned on it being around 4 or 5, but, as time went on and my coworkers didn't return, I emailed her saying I'd be there around 7 or 8. Things would have been much easier with a phone, but I didn't have one at the time. I decided I'd say goodbye to the people who were there, and then leave, since I couldn't afford to wait any longer. So that's what I did.
The two girls I mentioned, Emily and Vinnie, offered to go with me to the train station. This was very kind, especially as the buses are kind of confusing (where they go is not clearly labeled most of the time, at least, not in English), and the station was a ways away. I also didn't know where it was. The one girl said she'd meet us there, and left on her bike. I wasn't sure why at the time. The other rode with me in the cab. When we were most of the way there, it occurred to me I didn't know how they were getting back. So I offered to pay their way back, but the one riding with me (Vinnie, I think - sorry, it's been several weeks, and we only met the one time) said the other (Emily) would give her a ride back on her bike. Here in Taiwan they've got these special gladiatorial-looking spikes sticking out from the back tires of their bikes that can be used as footrests for a second rider. I didn't think that sounded like a good option, but she refused to consider taking a cab back, and said the bike wouldn't fit anyway. There wasn't much I could do, so I let her do what she wanted.
We arrived at the bus station about 4:00 - right as the bus for Taipei pulled away. I thought there'd be another right away, but, like usual, I was wrong. We went up to the counter, the girls negotiated the purchase of a ticket, and they told me the next bus wouldn't be until 4:30 or so. I thought I'd wait that long - the bus was $300 NT cheaper than the train (like $10...I know, it doesn't sound like that much).
As we were waiting, an announcement was made - the bus would actually be later than scheduled. I considered for a few minutes whether I should just get a refund and ride the train (the train station is right by the bus station), but, while I was thinking, another bus pulled up - bound for Taipei! I really can't commend these girls enough for their kindness - they were willing to sit with me the entire time, until I got on the bus, even if it was late. However, I am certain they would rather not have sat around in the heat (like most things in Taiwan, the waiting area for the buses is outside), and they knew I'd like to get to Taipei at a reasonable time. Once everyone was on the bus, they asked if I could maybe ride that one instead - I think it was a nicer bus than what I paid for. There was a seat left, so the driver let me on. I really appreciate that - and I really want to thank Emily and Vinnie for all their help, though I don't know if they'll ever read this.
So I rode the bus.
It seems like there shouldn't be much to write about, and there isn't - except that I forgot something obvious.
Buses drive on roads.
On Sunday evenings, everyone drives back into the cities from whatever nicer places they've gone.
And that means gridlock.
I noticed we were not making very good time, and I was nervous - I hoped my volunteer was not waiting for me. I hadn't told her any time or place to meet at, but.... Anyway, I did have her phone number, but no phone, and no phone card. When we did make a rest stop (twice? Three times?) there was no announcement on how long we'd be there, and I doubt I'd have had enough time to buy a card and call - the buses here do not wait. So I was a little nervous. (Side note: the bus did have a bathroom, which was downstairs with the luggage - it was only about four feet high, though, and it had a squat toilet. If you are thinking, "you're a guy! What would you care?", then I will tell you why it matters. It matters because squat toilets do not have high sides - there is liquid sloshing around in them, contained by at best a 4 inch high barrier, and if there is a sudden stop, I imagine you'd get a little wet, no matter where you were standing. Anyway, it's not comfortable).
I didn't get into Taipei until about 10:30 PM.
I thought I'd find a convenience store and a payphone, so I could call Rae (that's my volunteer's name), but as soon as I stepped off the bus I was hailed by a taxi driver. Keep in mind that it's late and I'm tired, and don't especially want to lug around two 50 lb bags looking for a place to buy a phone card, and especially not through crowds of people.
So I take the cab.
And discover that I've lost the business card listing who to call at the school (not that it'd really matter, since it was almost 11 on a Sunday evening by then), and I remember I don't really know where to go. So I tell the driver I want to go to 台大 ("Taida" - the quick way of saying 國立台灣大學 "guoli taiwan daxue"). He gets me there in about 10 minutes - it's not far. Since I don't know where to go, I try telling him to just drop me off at the front gate, but he doesn't understand, or he wants to drive me all the way, or something. So we drive around aimlessly, trying to figure out where I'm supposed to be. I have no idea, of course - earlier in the day, I'd tried to open up the documents and emails I had explaining where to go, who to contact, and in what order, but they just wouldn't work (thank you very much, Adobe Acrobat reader - you work just as well as one would expect from an acrobat made of adobe. Why would I want something like that in charge of reading anything, anyway?)
He finally becomes convinced he's found the right place, so I agree that it must be right, and I get out of the car. I get my stuff, pay him, and then slowly walk toward the entrance of the building, because I know for a fact it is not the right place. I hope he'll leave so I can walk to the front gate. I've already walked off a little distance, and I'm out of his sight. I turn around: of course, he's still there - oblivious to me, he's pissing on a tree. That's the first time I've seen anyone do that in Taiwan. So I linger for a minute, he leaves, and I go to the front gate.
And there is a payphone!
So I rush to use it - and find it only takes calling cards.
Instead, I walk to the guard shack to try to get some help. The guard does not speak English, and I speak only enough Chinese to confuse him. He pulls out a map, I point at where I want to go (I don't know where I am, only the location of the building I want to go to), and he understands. He circles our location, then the destination (unfortunately on opposite sides of the campus), and traces a path that is so indirect I wonder if there's some mystical Chinese bullshit to be learned from it.
There is not.
Keep in mind that though it's past 11 at this point, it's still something like 85 degrees, with almost 100% humidity, and that I'm lugging two fifty-pound bags across the entire campus; that's not mentioning my backpack, which is also full, and good not only at holding things, but retaining heat as well.
Across campus, 30(?) minutes later, and about 10 pounds lighter (water loss!) -
I find the dorm. It is locked. I am despondent, and decide to go find a hotel...though I hadn't seen any nearby. Suddenly, a girl shows up and lets me in. I'm glad for her help, but there's no one at the desk to check me in, and I don't know where my room is. So, after a little looking, I decide I'm going to go find a convenience store to call Rae, or a hotel, whichever comes first.
Something I should mention about this campus - it seems extradimensional. Somehow, the path you take never quite takes you where you'd expect. I ended up at an exit, though, and, out of desperation, I asked the guard if he knew where I could find a phone. He offered that I could use his. Very gratefully, I did.
Rae seemed surprised and confounded to hear from me so late - but she got things straightened out. She called the guy in charge of the dorm, told him I'd be by, and gave me his number.
So I thanked her, and the guard, then walked back to the dorm.
The guy in charge was there, lounging on the porch, which made me insanely angry - sure, he's there late, just trying to help me, but I've just spent the last 45 minutes literally dragging 100 pounds around, with almost no water, in fairly unpleasant weather, and my clothes are all soaked with sweat. To see someone relaxed, lounging around, just waiting for me - well, I wanted to crush him under my bags.
And then there was paperwork.
I finally got into my dorm about 12:15 or so, met my new roommate for the first time by waking him up, smelled the horrors of the room, saw the bed, and decided I really didn't care. I was tired.
So I slept.
And so went my first day at NTU.
As you've noticed, (I know by your admonishments), I haven't written much lately. I'll start with my arrival at NTU - there are things I'd still like to say about my summer, but I should write a little about what I'm doing now.
Alright - time for a narrative.
It was a sunny Sunday morning when I meant to leave, three weeks ago now. I'd returned to Tainan from Jia Yi the previous evening, seen a few of the remaining teachers, and then stayed up late to say goodbye to the Canadians (they left at 3 AM, because, as godless Canadians, they have awful lives; I like them anyway, though).
That sunny Sunday morning I mentioned was nearly over by the time I got up. So I showered, went to eat, came back, and found that a big group was going to leave for lunch. I'd just eaten and needed to pack, so I figured they'd eat and come back soon enough, and I'd be done packing, and could say goodbye then.
I packed my stuff.
And I waited.
Something I might have mentioned before is that the students here seemed to like us. So, while I was waiting, there were two students just hanging out at the World Passport office - Emily and Vinnie, whom I'd never met before. There was nothing else to do, they were nice, and they seemed to like me, so we spent some time talking; they told me I could take the bus instead of the train, and that it was cheaper but just as fast. We checked it out online, and sure enough, the bus was a better deal. Also important: I brought enough stuff for a year, and I gained quite a bit more stuff while teaching - so I had two bags weighing about 50 lbs apiece - and that's very difficult to maneuver with, or even find a place for on the train. The bus has a place for luggage.
I kept waiting: around 3 or 3:30, most of the people who'd left came back. I have a volunteer at NTU who's supposed to show me around and help me out, and I'd emailed her saying I'd be getting in sometime Sunday afternoon - originally I'd planned on it being around 4 or 5, but, as time went on and my coworkers didn't return, I emailed her saying I'd be there around 7 or 8. Things would have been much easier with a phone, but I didn't have one at the time. I decided I'd say goodbye to the people who were there, and then leave, since I couldn't afford to wait any longer. So that's what I did.
The two girls I mentioned, Emily and Vinnie, offered to go with me to the train station. This was very kind, especially as the buses are kind of confusing (where they go is not clearly labeled most of the time, at least, not in English), and the station was a ways away. I also didn't know where it was. The one girl said she'd meet us there, and left on her bike. I wasn't sure why at the time. The other rode with me in the cab. When we were most of the way there, it occurred to me I didn't know how they were getting back. So I offered to pay their way back, but the one riding with me (Vinnie, I think - sorry, it's been several weeks, and we only met the one time) said the other (Emily) would give her a ride back on her bike. Here in Taiwan they've got these special gladiatorial-looking spikes sticking out from the back tires of their bikes that can be used as footrests for a second rider. I didn't think that sounded like a good option, but she refused to consider taking a cab back, and said the bike wouldn't fit anyway. There wasn't much I could do, so I let her do what she wanted.
We arrived at the bus station about 4:00 - right as the bus for Taipei pulled away. I thought there'd be another right away, but, like usual, I was wrong. We went up to the counter, the girls negotiated the purchase of a ticket, and they told me the next bus wouldn't be until 4:30 or so. I thought I'd wait that long - the bus was $300 NT cheaper than the train (like $10...I know, it doesn't sound like that much).
As we were waiting, an announcement was made - the bus would actually be later than scheduled. I considered for a few minutes whether I should just get a refund and ride the train (the train station is right by the bus station), but, while I was thinking, another bus pulled up - bound for Taipei! I really can't commend these girls enough for their kindness - they were willing to sit with me the entire time, until I got on the bus, even if it was late. However, I am certain they would rather not have sat around in the heat (like most things in Taiwan, the waiting area for the buses is outside), and they knew I'd like to get to Taipei at a reasonable time. Once everyone was on the bus, they asked if I could maybe ride that one instead - I think it was a nicer bus than what I paid for. There was a seat left, so the driver let me on. I really appreciate that - and I really want to thank Emily and Vinnie for all their help, though I don't know if they'll ever read this.
So I rode the bus.
It seems like there shouldn't be much to write about, and there isn't - except that I forgot something obvious.
Buses drive on roads.
On Sunday evenings, everyone drives back into the cities from whatever nicer places they've gone.
And that means gridlock.
I noticed we were not making very good time, and I was nervous - I hoped my volunteer was not waiting for me. I hadn't told her any time or place to meet at, but.... Anyway, I did have her phone number, but no phone, and no phone card. When we did make a rest stop (twice? Three times?) there was no announcement on how long we'd be there, and I doubt I'd have had enough time to buy a card and call - the buses here do not wait. So I was a little nervous. (Side note: the bus did have a bathroom, which was downstairs with the luggage - it was only about four feet high, though, and it had a squat toilet. If you are thinking, "you're a guy! What would you care?", then I will tell you why it matters. It matters because squat toilets do not have high sides - there is liquid sloshing around in them, contained by at best a 4 inch high barrier, and if there is a sudden stop, I imagine you'd get a little wet, no matter where you were standing. Anyway, it's not comfortable).
I didn't get into Taipei until about 10:30 PM.
I thought I'd find a convenience store and a payphone, so I could call Rae (that's my volunteer's name), but as soon as I stepped off the bus I was hailed by a taxi driver. Keep in mind that it's late and I'm tired, and don't especially want to lug around two 50 lb bags looking for a place to buy a phone card, and especially not through crowds of people.
So I take the cab.
And discover that I've lost the business card listing who to call at the school (not that it'd really matter, since it was almost 11 on a Sunday evening by then), and I remember I don't really know where to go. So I tell the driver I want to go to 台大 ("Taida" - the quick way of saying 國立台灣大學 "guoli taiwan daxue"). He gets me there in about 10 minutes - it's not far. Since I don't know where to go, I try telling him to just drop me off at the front gate, but he doesn't understand, or he wants to drive me all the way, or something. So we drive around aimlessly, trying to figure out where I'm supposed to be. I have no idea, of course - earlier in the day, I'd tried to open up the documents and emails I had explaining where to go, who to contact, and in what order, but they just wouldn't work (thank you very much, Adobe Acrobat reader - you work just as well as one would expect from an acrobat made of adobe. Why would I want something like that in charge of reading anything, anyway?)
He finally becomes convinced he's found the right place, so I agree that it must be right, and I get out of the car. I get my stuff, pay him, and then slowly walk toward the entrance of the building, because I know for a fact it is not the right place. I hope he'll leave so I can walk to the front gate. I've already walked off a little distance, and I'm out of his sight. I turn around: of course, he's still there - oblivious to me, he's pissing on a tree. That's the first time I've seen anyone do that in Taiwan. So I linger for a minute, he leaves, and I go to the front gate.
And there is a payphone!
So I rush to use it - and find it only takes calling cards.
Instead, I walk to the guard shack to try to get some help. The guard does not speak English, and I speak only enough Chinese to confuse him. He pulls out a map, I point at where I want to go (I don't know where I am, only the location of the building I want to go to), and he understands. He circles our location, then the destination (unfortunately on opposite sides of the campus), and traces a path that is so indirect I wonder if there's some mystical Chinese bullshit to be learned from it.
There is not.
Keep in mind that though it's past 11 at this point, it's still something like 85 degrees, with almost 100% humidity, and that I'm lugging two fifty-pound bags across the entire campus; that's not mentioning my backpack, which is also full, and good not only at holding things, but retaining heat as well.
Across campus, 30(?) minutes later, and about 10 pounds lighter (water loss!) -
I find the dorm. It is locked. I am despondent, and decide to go find a hotel...though I hadn't seen any nearby. Suddenly, a girl shows up and lets me in. I'm glad for her help, but there's no one at the desk to check me in, and I don't know where my room is. So, after a little looking, I decide I'm going to go find a convenience store to call Rae, or a hotel, whichever comes first.
Something I should mention about this campus - it seems extradimensional. Somehow, the path you take never quite takes you where you'd expect. I ended up at an exit, though, and, out of desperation, I asked the guard if he knew where I could find a phone. He offered that I could use his. Very gratefully, I did.
Rae seemed surprised and confounded to hear from me so late - but she got things straightened out. She called the guy in charge of the dorm, told him I'd be by, and gave me his number.
So I thanked her, and the guard, then walked back to the dorm.
The guy in charge was there, lounging on the porch, which made me insanely angry - sure, he's there late, just trying to help me, but I've just spent the last 45 minutes literally dragging 100 pounds around, with almost no water, in fairly unpleasant weather, and my clothes are all soaked with sweat. To see someone relaxed, lounging around, just waiting for me - well, I wanted to crush him under my bags.
And then there was paperwork.
I finally got into my dorm about 12:15 or so, met my new roommate for the first time by waking him up, smelled the horrors of the room, saw the bed, and decided I really didn't care. I was tired.
So I slept.
And so went my first day at NTU.
Friday, September 01, 2006
A little about my last host family (am I a cancer or parasite?)
Like so often of late, I haven't had much time to write. And I've forgotten so much, too.
Before I forget again, I would like to direct your attention to a site (or your sight to a site?) - my fellow teacher Jordan not only is a professional photographer, he also has a nice camera. Oh, and nice pictures. I'm not in any of them, of course, because I'm not nearly interesting enough to look at, but they are nice photos - http://www.jordandiamond.com/index.php?category=5 . So that's what some things in Taiwan look like. I even know where some of those things are, and have seen them myself! I have to admit, though, the picture with the tractors in the cloudy moonlit forest is one of the most hilarious things I have ever seen. It's moody - and then there are tractors!
Hmm. Maybe that's just me, though. Keep it forever, Jordan! I want a copy!
My last homestay family, which will remain nameless but awesome for now (mostly because I don't know how to write the characters for their name...well, I guess I could just spell it Guo, which I guess is right) took me to an amusement park two weekends ago now. I really enjoyed my time with them, and hopefully it goes vice-versa, too. I'm going to digress now, as I always do. This family, the Guos (that doesn't look quite right...), consists of a mother who works tirelessly to keep everyone happy (and me so well-fed that I couldn't move to leave them), a father who also works tirelessly doing research and development for a car-parts company (he does transmissions, thus, 'tirelessly' - oh yeah, bad pun!), a son whose age I've forgotten (12, right?), and a daughter named Melissa, whose age (sorry!)I also can't remember at the moment. 14? Oh, well, I guess the mother doesn't really work tirelessly, after all - she is always buzzing around on her scooter buying things and running errands, not to mention ferrying people back and forth in her car, so I suppose if she were working tirelessly she wouldn't get far.
So that last one was a bit stretched. I don't care, because I'm tired. And I'm writing. Get your own blog if you don't like it! Bah!
Before I interrupted myself, though, I was going to say there are two other members of the family - Melissa's two friends. The night I first came over, so did they. And they were both there every night and day after that. I never actually asked if they're always there that often, but I suspect not. They're a lot of fun to be around, though, so I didn't mind, and I guess the family must not either. Their names were Stella and Gina. Not that they only exist in the past or anything - it's just that those are no longer their names. After being there only a few days, they told me that they were unhappy with the names they had - they are sort of common ones here, and they didn't exactly get to pick them.
Oh! I should explain. Every Chinese person I know of picks an English name to go by. I guess they don't use their Chinese names because most of us just can't get the tones right and would end up mangling their names (imagine your name was Melony and people in one part of the world kept calling you "Morony" - you'd probably want to pick a different name to go by there). Many of them pick their names at a fairly young age: a mistake, I'd think - would you want to stick with anything you chose around the age of 12-16? I suspect if we did the same thing, we'd have a lot of guys named "Badass Awesome Death Killer!" With the exclamation mark. Probably more than one, actually. As another sidenote, many Chinese people pick English names that aren't actually English and aren't any easier to remember. Like Korean or Japanese names. Or they'll go the opposite way and pick names that are very memorable for all the wrong reasons. Like Baggy. Or Lamp.
Well, also they're given a very small list of names by their teacher to choose from, so there are a lot of Angelas, and Angels, and Stellas, and Ambers, and things like that.
Back to my original digression. They were unhappy with their noms de...Anglais? (Yes, you're right, I don't know French. But I do know how to use online dictionaries! Well, it's not like they're guerilla fighters, or famous writers, or anything like that, right?) So they asked for me to think of good names for them.
I am not good with names. Remembering them, or thinking of them. So, I turned to my comfort and guidance!
No, not the Internet, though some of you may have thought so. Unfortunately Biblical names for women are somewhat scarce, and either already very popular, or unpopular due to their strange sound.
So I turned to the Internet (you knew it would happen - in addition to the prohibition against turning to any other gods, perhaps it should read, "or the Internet". heh.). This site, specifically - http://www.behindthename.com/ . It's pretty good. I let them scroll through, and when they found ones they liked, I'd give them my opinion as a native speaker - in the end, they ended up choosing the names "Phoebe" and "Reina". Phoebe will tell you I gave her her name, but I only supervised. She did it herself.
Oh - one other funny thing - Phoebe is artistic. She'd seen one other teacher's signiture, and it included a little smiley face, or a penguin, or things like that on occasion. So she asked me if she could maybe draw a little cat with her signature. I told her it was her name and she could do whatever she wanted with it...which was typically thoughtless of me. So now whenever she writes her name, not just signs it, it includes a little cat face on the P of Phoebe. It's got little whiskers sticking out and everything.
That's it for now - I'll write more later.
Before I forget again, I would like to direct your attention to a site (or your sight to a site?) - my fellow teacher Jordan not only is a professional photographer, he also has a nice camera. Oh, and nice pictures. I'm not in any of them, of course, because I'm not nearly interesting enough to look at, but they are nice photos - http://www.jordandiamond.com/index.php?category=5 . So that's what some things in Taiwan look like. I even know where some of those things are, and have seen them myself! I have to admit, though, the picture with the tractors in the cloudy moonlit forest is one of the most hilarious things I have ever seen. It's moody - and then there are tractors!
Hmm. Maybe that's just me, though. Keep it forever, Jordan! I want a copy!
My last homestay family, which will remain nameless but awesome for now (mostly because I don't know how to write the characters for their name...well, I guess I could just spell it Guo, which I guess is right) took me to an amusement park two weekends ago now. I really enjoyed my time with them, and hopefully it goes vice-versa, too. I'm going to digress now, as I always do. This family, the Guos (that doesn't look quite right...), consists of a mother who works tirelessly to keep everyone happy (and me so well-fed that I couldn't move to leave them), a father who also works tirelessly doing research and development for a car-parts company (he does transmissions, thus, 'tirelessly' - oh yeah, bad pun!), a son whose age I've forgotten (12, right?), and a daughter named Melissa, whose age (sorry!)I also can't remember at the moment. 14? Oh, well, I guess the mother doesn't really work tirelessly, after all - she is always buzzing around on her scooter buying things and running errands, not to mention ferrying people back and forth in her car, so I suppose if she were working tirelessly she wouldn't get far.
So that last one was a bit stretched. I don't care, because I'm tired. And I'm writing. Get your own blog if you don't like it! Bah!
Before I interrupted myself, though, I was going to say there are two other members of the family - Melissa's two friends. The night I first came over, so did they. And they were both there every night and day after that. I never actually asked if they're always there that often, but I suspect not. They're a lot of fun to be around, though, so I didn't mind, and I guess the family must not either. Their names were Stella and Gina. Not that they only exist in the past or anything - it's just that those are no longer their names. After being there only a few days, they told me that they were unhappy with the names they had - they are sort of common ones here, and they didn't exactly get to pick them.
Oh! I should explain. Every Chinese person I know of picks an English name to go by. I guess they don't use their Chinese names because most of us just can't get the tones right and would end up mangling their names (imagine your name was Melony and people in one part of the world kept calling you "Morony" - you'd probably want to pick a different name to go by there). Many of them pick their names at a fairly young age: a mistake, I'd think - would you want to stick with anything you chose around the age of 12-16? I suspect if we did the same thing, we'd have a lot of guys named "Badass Awesome Death Killer!" With the exclamation mark. Probably more than one, actually. As another sidenote, many Chinese people pick English names that aren't actually English and aren't any easier to remember. Like Korean or Japanese names. Or they'll go the opposite way and pick names that are very memorable for all the wrong reasons. Like Baggy. Or Lamp.
Well, also they're given a very small list of names by their teacher to choose from, so there are a lot of Angelas, and Angels, and Stellas, and Ambers, and things like that.
Back to my original digression. They were unhappy with their noms de...Anglais? (Yes, you're right, I don't know French. But I do know how to use online dictionaries! Well, it's not like they're guerilla fighters, or famous writers, or anything like that, right?) So they asked for me to think of good names for them.
I am not good with names. Remembering them, or thinking of them. So, I turned to my comfort and guidance!
No, not the Internet, though some of you may have thought so. Unfortunately Biblical names for women are somewhat scarce, and either already very popular, or unpopular due to their strange sound.
So I turned to the Internet (you knew it would happen - in addition to the prohibition against turning to any other gods, perhaps it should read, "or the Internet". heh.). This site, specifically - http://www.behindthename.com/ . It's pretty good. I let them scroll through, and when they found ones they liked, I'd give them my opinion as a native speaker - in the end, they ended up choosing the names "Phoebe" and "Reina". Phoebe will tell you I gave her her name, but I only supervised. She did it herself.
Oh - one other funny thing - Phoebe is artistic. She'd seen one other teacher's signiture, and it included a little smiley face, or a penguin, or things like that on occasion. So she asked me if she could maybe draw a little cat with her signature. I told her it was her name and she could do whatever she wanted with it...which was typically thoughtless of me. So now whenever she writes her name, not just signs it, it includes a little cat face on the P of Phoebe. It's got little whiskers sticking out and everything.
That's it for now - I'll write more later.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Trippy!
I haven't had much access recently, so I've forgotten some of what's happened. Too bad.
But I do remember that I was going to write about two things.
The first, I went to a nice restaurant with my boss, Eva, and all the teachers' assistants. Have you all heard of okinomiyaki? If you thought that sounded Japanese, you'd be right. It is. Another thing it is, is very good.
The way it works is like this: you order something. The waiter brings you a big bowl full of whatever you ordered. There's a grill in the middle of the table - you can cook the food yourself if you want, or the waiter can do it. Either way, whatever you ordered doesn't really matter - it ends up looking and tasting almost exactly the same, whatever it was. The only difference is in the toppings. oh! I'd better explain some more.
So you cook it, right? But you cook it up in a circle shape. And you flip it over. When it's done, you cut it up into slices, so that it looks very much like a pizza - thus its sometimes name, "japanese pizza". If you'd like some pictures, or a much better explanation, you can find both here: http://greggman.com/japan/okonomiyaki/okonomiyaki.htm .
It's really good. However, the presentation of ours suffered a bit. Eva is the take-charge sort, and she's...spirited, I guess you might say. What she is not, is cautious. Anyway, she decided she would cook ours. It turned out being food, fortunately, but not pretty. It was a massacred heap of cooked stuff. It was still delicious.
Also at this restaurant we ordered "monjayaki." Those of you who cook, you know how the edges of the food sometimes get just a little brown and crispy and delicious? Think of an entire meal like that. So good.
Here's how it works: there is a bowl of soupy stuff. The bowl is poured out on the grill, and you stir it around a little bit. Then you are given a ridiculously tiny spatula - big enough maybe to belong to a mouse - and with that spatula, you scrape the food off the grill. It's all just slightly brown and crispy, and it takes forever to eat it all, because you just have a tiny metal spatula. It's well worth it, though. Eat it sometime!
It's kind of hard to write right now. I'm not really in the mood. Just not feeling very creative. Ah, if only I could've written this morning! Oh well.
So, I continue.
The trip I wanted to talk about was to a place called "Alishan." Or Mt. Ali. Whatever. This place is supposed to have a beautiful sunrise, so people often take trips to see that.
Several other teachers, and myself, decided we'd like to go see the mountain. And the sunrise, while we're there.
Jana, one of the teachers here (and who I have to admit liking quite a bit, even though she is a filthy Canadian), is staying with a host family that owns a hotel (oh, if you've seen my pictures, she's in one or two of them). They're kind enough to let us in free of charge. Not to sleep, of course, but there's a big room on the top floor that they let us use for hanging out. We agreed to meet there Friday after school (on the 11th?) whenever it was conveneient - and then leave at 1 AM.
Why so early?
Because it's a few hours away on twisty mountain roads. Oh, that's not a good explanation, is it? Well, if you leave too early, you have to stay the night at the one hotel in the area, which you do not want to do if your funds are limited. If you leave much later than that, you won't see the sunrise. Simple. You also can't get to the top of the mountain unless you hike, which is not good in an unfamiliar, unlit mountainous area; or you take the train, which doesn't start running until maybe 3 AM.
I don't remember what I did that evening, but I didn't get to the hotel until maybe 9:30. Oh, wait - I took a short nap (being a teacher can be exhausting). So I met most of the other people there, and we all had fun sitting around being goofy, as only sleep deprivation and boredom can inspire. There was a Mac, and it had a built-in camera with all kinds of neat little options (mirroring the image in the middle, fishbowl effects, etc.) We couldn't let that sort of awesome power go to waste, so we made many, many silly pictures. And watched bad Chinese tv.
The last member of our group had us worried. Celia (that's her name, and boy does she have it rough - she's Jewish, and I'm almost certain it's impossible to avoid pork products (not to mention unclean seafood) in the food here) has rented a scooter for the duration of her stay, and she said she'd just drive over and meet us before we left.
At 12:40, we were starting to get a little concerned. She wasn't with us.
We called her, and she said she'd be there soon.
But soon came and went, and Celia did not.
We called again, and, as I'm sure you expected, the poor girl was lost.
Things weren't that dire, though - our hotel is right by the train station, and it's easy to find. So Celia was quickly directed in the right way, and we met her at maybe 1:10 AM.
We called the cabs, told them we wanted to go to Alishan, and then went downstairs. The cabs came in only maybe two or three minutes. We were ready to go, but several members of our group were still upstairs. We waited on them. After about ten minutes of waiting the cabbies were getting impatient, and they had to move their cars so they weren't blocking the street anymore (everyone just parks in the street here if they're going to be quick); like cabbies anywhere, they didn't like being kept waiting. Another ten minutes passed before the rest of our group came down. They apparently didn't know we were ready to go.
We were just about to get in our cars when the cabbies began speaking. That is never a good sign, if you're still outside the car.
Important note: this is right after several typhoons had passed by.
It turns out the cabbies couldn't take us to Alishan after all, because a bridge on the way up the mountain had been covered by a rockslide.
We sort of believed them, and they left.
One teacher and her homestay girl left, disappointed at the way things had turned out.
The rest of us began arguing amongst ourselves, and decided we were being fed a fairly lously lie. The cabbies hadn't been on the phone or anything, and, if they'd known before that the road was out, why didn't they say so in the first place? So we called the same company again, and asked if the road to Alishan was still out. They told us to wait while they checked. Not two minutes later, they called back and told us the rockslide had been cleared. Keep in mind this is almost 2 AM - I sort of doubt any construction crews were out clearing rocks in the mountains at that time of night.
The cabs arrived, and finally we were on our way.
Of course, that's not the end of the drama. It's never over till the fat lady sings, right? And we didn't have any fat ladies.
As I mentioned before, the road up to the mountains winds a lot. It also gains an incredible amount of altitude in a very short time - I think almost 2 miles' worth in something like 20 miles of straight-line distance. I did not think of carsickness, because I never get carsickness. Unfortunately, no one else thought of that either - and we had one girl in each car get very sick. We had to make frequent stops on our way up so our sick people could get some fresh air and experience normal movement.
I enjoyed doing it that way. Not that I was enjoying their suffering: no, it gave me a chance to enjoy the mountain air, and the clear night sky, and to see a little of the moonlit land. And we still made good time, too - remember, these are cabbies we're talking about. And there was no one else on the road. I must also admit I occasionally thought we might die, but it turned out well. And our driver was really friendly and good-natured - not at all like the other guys we'd had earlier.
We finally arrived about 4 AM. We waited in line for for about 20 minutes so we could buy tickets for the train to the top. And we arrived at the mountaintop about 5:15 aM - just as the sun was rising. We would've missed it, and I was certain we would, but I forgot something important about mountains - they are tall. And tall things block the sun. So the sunrise didn't happen for a little while longer.
I was glad for that. Happiness is always temporary, though. As soon as we made our way to the top - to the observation platform - we found ourselves in a horde of people. Only I was tall enough to see much of anything, and I wasn't enjoying the view much. It would've been nice but for the crowd, and the crazy man walking on the safety wall. Well, he wasn't just walking - that'd be easy to ignore. No, he had a megaphone, and enjoyed hearing himself scream. I think he was a tour guide/barker - he kept saying things about buying this and that. So that was the perfect way to ruin a beautiful sunrise, I thought.
I was a little pissed off. My group was disappointed. We'd gone through a lot of trouble and misery to get here, and now the whole thing was pointlessly ordinary.
Just at that moment, a girl appeared. Why? I don't know. But we started talking to her, and she told us to follow. So we did. She led us up the mountain further, and it turns out there's another viewing area, less crowded, and with a less annoying huckster. It was perfect (by local standards - heh), and we got lots of pictures. Or at least, those with cameras did. And I got pictures on other people's cameras which I hope to someday have access to.
After that we decided to walk down the mountain. It was beautiful - there were massive stumps overgrown with moss, and a forest grown up around them. It had all been cleared out during the Japanese occupation, and been restored since.
I'm running out of time.
The rest of my group (with the exception of myself and a teacher's assistant by the name of Connie) was exhausted, and I think I annoyed them the whole way down the mountain. I would point at something and say, "that'd make a really good photo". They would grunt. But I enjoyed myself anyway. I have to go back sometime with a camera and a few days to spare - it's going to take me a long time to take all the photos I want.
Alishan is also the first place in Taiwan where I've enjoyed the weather - it was probably around 50 degrees. Awesome. No one else thought so; they were complaining of the cold. But I thought it was awesome.
That's all the time I've got for the moment, so that's where I'll have to end. I'll revise this when I have a moment.
I hope I'll have more time to write soon - there's plenty to say.
Bye for now!
But I do remember that I was going to write about two things.
The first, I went to a nice restaurant with my boss, Eva, and all the teachers' assistants. Have you all heard of okinomiyaki? If you thought that sounded Japanese, you'd be right. It is. Another thing it is, is very good.
The way it works is like this: you order something. The waiter brings you a big bowl full of whatever you ordered. There's a grill in the middle of the table - you can cook the food yourself if you want, or the waiter can do it. Either way, whatever you ordered doesn't really matter - it ends up looking and tasting almost exactly the same, whatever it was. The only difference is in the toppings. oh! I'd better explain some more.
So you cook it, right? But you cook it up in a circle shape. And you flip it over. When it's done, you cut it up into slices, so that it looks very much like a pizza - thus its sometimes name, "japanese pizza". If you'd like some pictures, or a much better explanation, you can find both here: http://greggman.com/japan/okonomiyaki/okonomiyaki.htm .
It's really good. However, the presentation of ours suffered a bit. Eva is the take-charge sort, and she's...spirited, I guess you might say. What she is not, is cautious. Anyway, she decided she would cook ours. It turned out being food, fortunately, but not pretty. It was a massacred heap of cooked stuff. It was still delicious.
Also at this restaurant we ordered "monjayaki." Those of you who cook, you know how the edges of the food sometimes get just a little brown and crispy and delicious? Think of an entire meal like that. So good.
Here's how it works: there is a bowl of soupy stuff. The bowl is poured out on the grill, and you stir it around a little bit. Then you are given a ridiculously tiny spatula - big enough maybe to belong to a mouse - and with that spatula, you scrape the food off the grill. It's all just slightly brown and crispy, and it takes forever to eat it all, because you just have a tiny metal spatula. It's well worth it, though. Eat it sometime!
It's kind of hard to write right now. I'm not really in the mood. Just not feeling very creative. Ah, if only I could've written this morning! Oh well.
So, I continue.
The trip I wanted to talk about was to a place called "Alishan." Or Mt. Ali. Whatever. This place is supposed to have a beautiful sunrise, so people often take trips to see that.
Several other teachers, and myself, decided we'd like to go see the mountain. And the sunrise, while we're there.
Jana, one of the teachers here (and who I have to admit liking quite a bit, even though she is a filthy Canadian), is staying with a host family that owns a hotel (oh, if you've seen my pictures, she's in one or two of them). They're kind enough to let us in free of charge. Not to sleep, of course, but there's a big room on the top floor that they let us use for hanging out. We agreed to meet there Friday after school (on the 11th?) whenever it was conveneient - and then leave at 1 AM.
Why so early?
Because it's a few hours away on twisty mountain roads. Oh, that's not a good explanation, is it? Well, if you leave too early, you have to stay the night at the one hotel in the area, which you do not want to do if your funds are limited. If you leave much later than that, you won't see the sunrise. Simple. You also can't get to the top of the mountain unless you hike, which is not good in an unfamiliar, unlit mountainous area; or you take the train, which doesn't start running until maybe 3 AM.
I don't remember what I did that evening, but I didn't get to the hotel until maybe 9:30. Oh, wait - I took a short nap (being a teacher can be exhausting). So I met most of the other people there, and we all had fun sitting around being goofy, as only sleep deprivation and boredom can inspire. There was a Mac, and it had a built-in camera with all kinds of neat little options (mirroring the image in the middle, fishbowl effects, etc.) We couldn't let that sort of awesome power go to waste, so we made many, many silly pictures. And watched bad Chinese tv.
The last member of our group had us worried. Celia (that's her name, and boy does she have it rough - she's Jewish, and I'm almost certain it's impossible to avoid pork products (not to mention unclean seafood) in the food here) has rented a scooter for the duration of her stay, and she said she'd just drive over and meet us before we left.
At 12:40, we were starting to get a little concerned. She wasn't with us.
We called her, and she said she'd be there soon.
But soon came and went, and Celia did not.
We called again, and, as I'm sure you expected, the poor girl was lost.
Things weren't that dire, though - our hotel is right by the train station, and it's easy to find. So Celia was quickly directed in the right way, and we met her at maybe 1:10 AM.
We called the cabs, told them we wanted to go to Alishan, and then went downstairs. The cabs came in only maybe two or three minutes. We were ready to go, but several members of our group were still upstairs. We waited on them. After about ten minutes of waiting the cabbies were getting impatient, and they had to move their cars so they weren't blocking the street anymore (everyone just parks in the street here if they're going to be quick); like cabbies anywhere, they didn't like being kept waiting. Another ten minutes passed before the rest of our group came down. They apparently didn't know we were ready to go.
We were just about to get in our cars when the cabbies began speaking. That is never a good sign, if you're still outside the car.
Important note: this is right after several typhoons had passed by.
It turns out the cabbies couldn't take us to Alishan after all, because a bridge on the way up the mountain had been covered by a rockslide.
We sort of believed them, and they left.
One teacher and her homestay girl left, disappointed at the way things had turned out.
The rest of us began arguing amongst ourselves, and decided we were being fed a fairly lously lie. The cabbies hadn't been on the phone or anything, and, if they'd known before that the road was out, why didn't they say so in the first place? So we called the same company again, and asked if the road to Alishan was still out. They told us to wait while they checked. Not two minutes later, they called back and told us the rockslide had been cleared. Keep in mind this is almost 2 AM - I sort of doubt any construction crews were out clearing rocks in the mountains at that time of night.
The cabs arrived, and finally we were on our way.
Of course, that's not the end of the drama. It's never over till the fat lady sings, right? And we didn't have any fat ladies.
As I mentioned before, the road up to the mountains winds a lot. It also gains an incredible amount of altitude in a very short time - I think almost 2 miles' worth in something like 20 miles of straight-line distance. I did not think of carsickness, because I never get carsickness. Unfortunately, no one else thought of that either - and we had one girl in each car get very sick. We had to make frequent stops on our way up so our sick people could get some fresh air and experience normal movement.
I enjoyed doing it that way. Not that I was enjoying their suffering: no, it gave me a chance to enjoy the mountain air, and the clear night sky, and to see a little of the moonlit land. And we still made good time, too - remember, these are cabbies we're talking about. And there was no one else on the road. I must also admit I occasionally thought we might die, but it turned out well. And our driver was really friendly and good-natured - not at all like the other guys we'd had earlier.
We finally arrived about 4 AM. We waited in line for for about 20 minutes so we could buy tickets for the train to the top. And we arrived at the mountaintop about 5:15 aM - just as the sun was rising. We would've missed it, and I was certain we would, but I forgot something important about mountains - they are tall. And tall things block the sun. So the sunrise didn't happen for a little while longer.
I was glad for that. Happiness is always temporary, though. As soon as we made our way to the top - to the observation platform - we found ourselves in a horde of people. Only I was tall enough to see much of anything, and I wasn't enjoying the view much. It would've been nice but for the crowd, and the crazy man walking on the safety wall. Well, he wasn't just walking - that'd be easy to ignore. No, he had a megaphone, and enjoyed hearing himself scream. I think he was a tour guide/barker - he kept saying things about buying this and that. So that was the perfect way to ruin a beautiful sunrise, I thought.
I was a little pissed off. My group was disappointed. We'd gone through a lot of trouble and misery to get here, and now the whole thing was pointlessly ordinary.
Just at that moment, a girl appeared. Why? I don't know. But we started talking to her, and she told us to follow. So we did. She led us up the mountain further, and it turns out there's another viewing area, less crowded, and with a less annoying huckster. It was perfect (by local standards - heh), and we got lots of pictures. Or at least, those with cameras did. And I got pictures on other people's cameras which I hope to someday have access to.
After that we decided to walk down the mountain. It was beautiful - there were massive stumps overgrown with moss, and a forest grown up around them. It had all been cleared out during the Japanese occupation, and been restored since.
I'm running out of time.
The rest of my group (with the exception of myself and a teacher's assistant by the name of Connie) was exhausted, and I think I annoyed them the whole way down the mountain. I would point at something and say, "that'd make a really good photo". They would grunt. But I enjoyed myself anyway. I have to go back sometime with a camera and a few days to spare - it's going to take me a long time to take all the photos I want.
Alishan is also the first place in Taiwan where I've enjoyed the weather - it was probably around 50 degrees. Awesome. No one else thought so; they were complaining of the cold. But I thought it was awesome.
That's all the time I've got for the moment, so that's where I'll have to end. I'll revise this when I have a moment.
I hope I'll have more time to write soon - there's plenty to say.
Bye for now!
Friday, August 04, 2006
More Learning
I wanted to start by saying - never learn English in a foreign country. Most people don't have much choice, though, which is very unfortunate.
After a while, you stop noticing the mangling of your native language. Signs that you might have laughed at before barely catch your interest. Only the exceptionally bad, or the unintentionally hilarious, will be noticable. I would give you an example, but I've been making a conscious effort not to remember the horrifically bad signs I've seen, for fear that it'll degrade my English even further than the destitute state it already is in. It's like being poor, but knowing that you could be living in India, scheming about chopping off your children's arms so they'll be better beggars.
Hmm. That was kind of ghastly. So....
This morning I was riding the bus to school, like every day. It traveled the same route, like every day. Today, though, I was sitting (a rarity) by the window. I just chanced to turn my head at a sign I hadn't noticed before - it read, "Just do eat." For the first split-second, I thought nothing of the artwork below, a piece of bread, and assumed it was just one more atrocity committed against my favorite (and admittedly only) language. Then I really noticed the shape of the bread. It was the Nike swoosh. On a bakery. "Just do eat", right? It's far too clever a use of English to fit in here, so I might have to stop by that shop and see how that happened. Maybe they could change it to "Just Dough Eat" - do you think so? That'd probably be too much. Even in America.
Anyway, as I ended my last post, I was worrying about God's having a sense of humor. I woke up the very next morning, thinking of ways to re-write my post (like usual, I was unhappy with it as it was (and as it is)), and dragged my way through my morning preparations. I was running late, and, what's worse, I needed to copy some music I'd downloaded the night before for a class on Western music. So I was rushing around. And let me say now, yes, God does possess an a keen sense of the comical. I'd said I'd like something differently painful to keep me humble.
Ask and ye shall receive.
It's not really important that you know this, unless you come here, but there are almost no dishwashers in Taiwan. Instead, people wash dishes by hand. Then they put them in this sissified wanna-be oven that hangs over the sink, where they drip dry (no one has ever used the heater feature, so far as I know). The important thing to note, however, is that there is a door that, when open, sticks straight out. And it's directly at eye-level. My eye level, anyway.
So here I was, rushing. I went to the kitchen to clean my dishes, quickly. And, as my foreshadowing has almost certainly clued you in, I had good reason to notice that open metal door - I slammed my face into the corner of it. As foreshadowing also revealed, it hit right at eye-level. Very hard.
For that first surprising instant, I thought I might have just blinded myself. It would fit my pattern of getting stupid, and somewhat embarassing, injuries, but actually it hit a whole third of an inch below eye level.
So I was not blinded! It did get my attention, though. And some of my skin. In return for my attention and some skin (I do have some instinct for business, after all), I got a bruise and an inch and a half long bloody line at a 45 degree angle from my eye. So, yet another thing to keep me humble - I am still clumsy and pathetically frail. Just as a side note, I am constantly surprised that we aren't all dead - by all rights, as easy as it is to die or be badly injured, we should be. Of course, being constantly surprised may also be a sign of idiocy, so the situation might not be as mysterious as I think it is.
I've been walking around with that injury since Wednesday, I think. The students and other teachers all tell me it looks kind of cool, though, so I guess it's not a total loss.
Of course my narrative doesn't end there. No. That would be too easy. And God has only had all of eternity to work on amusing situations (I asked if he would kindly stop burning me, which has actually happened...of course, I'm also taking some steps to avoid that). Now, lest you think he is unneccessarily malicious, remember that I did tell him I was getting kind of arrogant, and needed a little help.
As I mentioned at the terminal end of my last blog, though the sun had gone down, the curtain hadn't fallen on my evening - yet. After the ending that's written, I went to a mall to meet some of my students. They 'forced' me to go to an arcade, and even paid for me to play some games (thank you all, if you're reading this), so I retaliated by losing. A lot. Well, except at air hockey. No one could withstand my mighty airynes. heh. Well, I also played this punching game. You wear a boxing glove. A thing comes up, slowly, and then you punch it. Pretty easy to understand. If you read Chinese. I thought I was supposed to punch that sucker first chance I got, like you would in a real fight, but that's apparently not how it works. You're supposed to wait for it to get completely vertical, then punch it, which really is stupid. Ah, well. Anyway, after the first two quick jabs, my students told me I was supposed to wait. So I did, and clobbered that inanimate metal rod real good. I guess I won. I'm still not clear on if/whether you can win, since the game ended right after that.
I was enjoying myself, except for the sunburn, and except for being exhausted. After some time spent at the mall, we went next door, to the nightmarket. Like most nightmarkets, it was crowded, noisy, and chock-full of goods of questionable value and desirability. And food. There's always food.
My students kept paying for me to do all sorts of things (and I did try to pay for myself, or pay them back, but was only successful on one or two occasions when they weren't looking), most of which were fun. Of course, we also ate a whole lot of food. (And I learned that "yubyubyub", which sounds as hilarious as it looks, means (maybe) something like "sound you make for eating food with chopsticks when you're stabbing the food and you're really hungry.")
I guess they were concerned I wasn't having fun, but I really was. It's just that I was burned, tired, and couldn't hear anything they were saying (nightmarkets are noisy).
On Monday, when we met again (this is going somewhere), they told me they wanted to take me and some other teachers to dinner on Wednesday. I agreed, of course.
It was Korean, and it was good. In Taiwan, though, it is very difficult to get enough water, especially at restaurants. And I ate the food of several people who couldn't finish their own. So I didn't get enough to drink. I thought it'd be no problem. I'd just get some water at home. Then it was decided we'd go to get pictures at a photo booth.
If you've never seen one, think of it like this - there is an incredibly tacky, and loud, plastic and metal tent/box, which you go inside of. The inside has all sorts of flashing lights, pink frilly...things?, and at least one camera lens and touch-screen.
People here tend to be somewhat shy and reserved. If you were to somehow enter Taiwan through a magical photo booth, however, you would not believe me. Everyone is expected - no, required - to make a fool of themselves. Different poses are struck, and the more ridiculous the better. The photos are also taken at somewhat random intervals (you usually don't control it directly), and you have to last through at least 10 or so. At the end you go to a central terminal, review your photos, pick the best ones, then desecrate them with lots of bubbly/frilly/fancy pink/orange/pastel/girly colors, and hugely inappropriate phrases like "kind love". Then you print them out as stickers so small no one would ever know what's supposed to be happening in the picture.
Oh - I didn't mention that this all happens inside a vinyl tent thing, did I? With no ventilation? And lots of people crowded inside? In a building open to the air? You might have guessed - it gets warm. So I'm thinking, why pay for a sauna when you can use a photo booth instead? You even get pictures out of it.
So we were there an hour and a half or so. I still hadn't had enough to drink. It was only towards the end that I realized I was badly dehydrated. And by then it was too late, of course.
So all of yesterday I spent in misery - with burning throat, aching head, and the occasional overwhelming urge to empty my guts through the proper channels (or proper channel, I suppose) because I'd gotten dehydrated. I should also mention that bathrooms here come with neither toilet paper nor soap, so if you don't have quite enough of your own, things are...uncomfortable.
I still taught, of course.
I have to say it's hard to think very highly of yourself when you're afraid you'll crap your pants.
So, moral of the story: God sure does listen. Ask and ye shall receive.
Oh, and I've recovered now.
I'll write more later, how about that? For now, though -
Well, for now, I wish I had a clever ending line, a tagline that would make you say, "wow". But I don't.
Bye!
After a while, you stop noticing the mangling of your native language. Signs that you might have laughed at before barely catch your interest. Only the exceptionally bad, or the unintentionally hilarious, will be noticable. I would give you an example, but I've been making a conscious effort not to remember the horrifically bad signs I've seen, for fear that it'll degrade my English even further than the destitute state it already is in. It's like being poor, but knowing that you could be living in India, scheming about chopping off your children's arms so they'll be better beggars.
Hmm. That was kind of ghastly. So....
This morning I was riding the bus to school, like every day. It traveled the same route, like every day. Today, though, I was sitting (a rarity) by the window. I just chanced to turn my head at a sign I hadn't noticed before - it read, "Just do eat." For the first split-second, I thought nothing of the artwork below, a piece of bread, and assumed it was just one more atrocity committed against my favorite (and admittedly only) language. Then I really noticed the shape of the bread. It was the Nike swoosh. On a bakery. "Just do eat", right? It's far too clever a use of English to fit in here, so I might have to stop by that shop and see how that happened. Maybe they could change it to "Just Dough Eat" - do you think so? That'd probably be too much. Even in America.
Anyway, as I ended my last post, I was worrying about God's having a sense of humor. I woke up the very next morning, thinking of ways to re-write my post (like usual, I was unhappy with it as it was (and as it is)), and dragged my way through my morning preparations. I was running late, and, what's worse, I needed to copy some music I'd downloaded the night before for a class on Western music. So I was rushing around. And let me say now, yes, God does possess an a keen sense of the comical. I'd said I'd like something differently painful to keep me humble.
Ask and ye shall receive.
It's not really important that you know this, unless you come here, but there are almost no dishwashers in Taiwan. Instead, people wash dishes by hand. Then they put them in this sissified wanna-be oven that hangs over the sink, where they drip dry (no one has ever used the heater feature, so far as I know). The important thing to note, however, is that there is a door that, when open, sticks straight out. And it's directly at eye-level. My eye level, anyway.
So here I was, rushing. I went to the kitchen to clean my dishes, quickly. And, as my foreshadowing has almost certainly clued you in, I had good reason to notice that open metal door - I slammed my face into the corner of it. As foreshadowing also revealed, it hit right at eye-level. Very hard.
For that first surprising instant, I thought I might have just blinded myself. It would fit my pattern of getting stupid, and somewhat embarassing, injuries, but actually it hit a whole third of an inch below eye level.
So I was not blinded! It did get my attention, though. And some of my skin. In return for my attention and some skin (I do have some instinct for business, after all), I got a bruise and an inch and a half long bloody line at a 45 degree angle from my eye. So, yet another thing to keep me humble - I am still clumsy and pathetically frail. Just as a side note, I am constantly surprised that we aren't all dead - by all rights, as easy as it is to die or be badly injured, we should be. Of course, being constantly surprised may also be a sign of idiocy, so the situation might not be as mysterious as I think it is.
I've been walking around with that injury since Wednesday, I think. The students and other teachers all tell me it looks kind of cool, though, so I guess it's not a total loss.
Of course my narrative doesn't end there. No. That would be too easy. And God has only had all of eternity to work on amusing situations (I asked if he would kindly stop burning me, which has actually happened...of course, I'm also taking some steps to avoid that). Now, lest you think he is unneccessarily malicious, remember that I did tell him I was getting kind of arrogant, and needed a little help.
As I mentioned at the terminal end of my last blog, though the sun had gone down, the curtain hadn't fallen on my evening - yet. After the ending that's written, I went to a mall to meet some of my students. They 'forced' me to go to an arcade, and even paid for me to play some games (thank you all, if you're reading this), so I retaliated by losing. A lot. Well, except at air hockey. No one could withstand my mighty airynes. heh. Well, I also played this punching game. You wear a boxing glove. A thing comes up, slowly, and then you punch it. Pretty easy to understand. If you read Chinese. I thought I was supposed to punch that sucker first chance I got, like you would in a real fight, but that's apparently not how it works. You're supposed to wait for it to get completely vertical, then punch it, which really is stupid. Ah, well. Anyway, after the first two quick jabs, my students told me I was supposed to wait. So I did, and clobbered that inanimate metal rod real good. I guess I won. I'm still not clear on if/whether you can win, since the game ended right after that.
I was enjoying myself, except for the sunburn, and except for being exhausted. After some time spent at the mall, we went next door, to the nightmarket. Like most nightmarkets, it was crowded, noisy, and chock-full of goods of questionable value and desirability. And food. There's always food.
My students kept paying for me to do all sorts of things (and I did try to pay for myself, or pay them back, but was only successful on one or two occasions when they weren't looking), most of which were fun. Of course, we also ate a whole lot of food. (And I learned that "yubyubyub", which sounds as hilarious as it looks, means (maybe) something like "sound you make for eating food with chopsticks when you're stabbing the food and you're really hungry.")
I guess they were concerned I wasn't having fun, but I really was. It's just that I was burned, tired, and couldn't hear anything they were saying (nightmarkets are noisy).
On Monday, when we met again (this is going somewhere), they told me they wanted to take me and some other teachers to dinner on Wednesday. I agreed, of course.
It was Korean, and it was good. In Taiwan, though, it is very difficult to get enough water, especially at restaurants. And I ate the food of several people who couldn't finish their own. So I didn't get enough to drink. I thought it'd be no problem. I'd just get some water at home. Then it was decided we'd go to get pictures at a photo booth.
If you've never seen one, think of it like this - there is an incredibly tacky, and loud, plastic and metal tent/box, which you go inside of. The inside has all sorts of flashing lights, pink frilly...things?, and at least one camera lens and touch-screen.
People here tend to be somewhat shy and reserved. If you were to somehow enter Taiwan through a magical photo booth, however, you would not believe me. Everyone is expected - no, required - to make a fool of themselves. Different poses are struck, and the more ridiculous the better. The photos are also taken at somewhat random intervals (you usually don't control it directly), and you have to last through at least 10 or so. At the end you go to a central terminal, review your photos, pick the best ones, then desecrate them with lots of bubbly/frilly/fancy pink/orange/pastel/girly colors, and hugely inappropriate phrases like "kind love". Then you print them out as stickers so small no one would ever know what's supposed to be happening in the picture.
Oh - I didn't mention that this all happens inside a vinyl tent thing, did I? With no ventilation? And lots of people crowded inside? In a building open to the air? You might have guessed - it gets warm. So I'm thinking, why pay for a sauna when you can use a photo booth instead? You even get pictures out of it.
So we were there an hour and a half or so. I still hadn't had enough to drink. It was only towards the end that I realized I was badly dehydrated. And by then it was too late, of course.
So all of yesterday I spent in misery - with burning throat, aching head, and the occasional overwhelming urge to empty my guts through the proper channels (or proper channel, I suppose) because I'd gotten dehydrated. I should also mention that bathrooms here come with neither toilet paper nor soap, so if you don't have quite enough of your own, things are...uncomfortable.
I still taught, of course.
I have to say it's hard to think very highly of yourself when you're afraid you'll crap your pants.
So, moral of the story: God sure does listen. Ask and ye shall receive.
Oh, and I've recovered now.
I'll write more later, how about that? For now, though -
Well, for now, I wish I had a clever ending line, a tagline that would make you say, "wow". But I don't.
Bye!
Monday, July 31, 2006
A little lesson
One strange thing about Taiwan is that, as a foreigner, you have a status just slightly below that of a rockstar, and quite high above that of President (though that isn't terribly hard right now, as no one here appears to like President Chen). As I'm sure you can imagine, this begins to influence the way one thinks.
Just being foreign, for example, is enough to get even the prettiest girls interested in you. This is probably true most places; here, though, even having a lousy personality and no personal grooming ability isn't enough to scare them away. Seriously. (Those of you who have lousy personalities and no personal hygiene, please don't take that as an invitation. Not that anyone reading this fits that description. You're all lovely people, of course. I'm just typing this for posterity, in case anyone fitting that description should ever read this.)
Schoolchildren look up to you, too - simply because you are foreign. And adults are often glad to have foreigners show up in their shops or houses, and will offer you things free of charge.
And then there's the fact that I am so much bigger (and possibly stronger?) than a lot of the people here, and the fact that I will be attending NTU (their most presitigous university) ...so I usually am admired and complimented. Oh, and I guess saying some of your favorite things to do are "read and write" are hugely impressive to people here.
I realized several times that I needed some humbling, and, it turns out, "ask and you shall recieve" is more than a saying.
Last week, for example, I walked out of the World Passport Office, looking for food. This is a short digression, by the way, but it is going somewhere (and ending in Taiwan...heh). On my way, I saw the girl at the coffeeshop, Mimi, and decided to ask her what's good to eat. She couldn't decide what to tell me, so she passed the problem on to her boss. He doesn't speak English. Nonetheless, he decided he would personally walk me over to a shop with good food and order it for me. Keep in mind, this is during working hours. He was willing to just walk off and help someone he barely knew. Obviously I appreciated that.
Anyway, he was able to communicate to me that a couple things were good at this food stand, so I agreed to order them. One was a dish with lamb or goat, I'm not exactly sure, and the other was some sort of soup.
He then took me back to his coffeeshop (which is called Magic Coffee (I like the name)...oh, and he also owns the internet cafe next door, which is very large and prosperous - and he's a year older than me. Grr.), and offered me a seat. Then he brought me a free drink, which was as excellent as it was mystifying. It was icy-cold tea with some minty and citrus-y flavors.
So I was sitting there reflecting on how much like infants we all are here - we can't speak, or do anything for ourselves, and must rely totally on the kindness of strangers (who are admittedly very kind). I admit, my Chinese probably even sounds infantile. I ate some of my food, then decided I'd try my soup. Now, you need to know soup works differently here: it does not come in a soup bowl. Instead you are given soup in a plastic bag, and you then can pour it into the soup bowl you are also given, all at your convenience. It seems it would be more convenient just to have it in the bowl to start with, but, I am just a guest here.
Foreshadowing aside, I decided to introduce the soup into the bowl that it was so obviously destined to meet. I decided they wouldn't give me more soup than they would bowl, as that would be silly, and would be totally impossible, as the two were so obviously designed for each other.
I was wrong, of course. I was also a little hasty in pouring: I poured it all at once.
Fortunately, I managed to spare my shirt. Unfortunately, I did so at the expense of my shorts...and the legs they covered with their admirably thin fabric. That thin fabric is very nice for keeping me cool - usually. It actually doesn't keep me cool against boiling soup, however.
It burned.
So here I am, thinking what infants we are, and then I dump scalding soup all over myself. So there I sat, with my lunch spilled all over myself. (Unlike an infant, though, I didn't cry about it - I didn't even make a noise. I calmly, but with some haste, tried to get the remaining liquid on the table to spill away from me).
So, God, thank you for reminding me that you do listen. Thankfulness is a little hard to muster when you've been soup-burned. heh. But, I was quite painfully reminded that I'm only human, and a rather careless one at that. I did need it.
(oh, and as an aside, I decided I might as well stay and finish my soup. It, and the food, were both very good, and I felt as though the soup put up a fair fight, so I had some satisfaction from that.)
But, you know me. Well, probably everyone else who's ever lived, too. I need reminders.
This last weekend, I was invited to see a bit of Jia Yi (the city I'm in - though for whatever reason, they spell it Chiai, or Chia yi) by my assistant, Shakira (she named herself), and some of my students.
So Shakira took me by scooter to a college campus nearby, and showed me around. It's a beautiful campus, surrounded be trees and water, very large, and up on a hill looking down on the city. I wish I had pictures. Shakira did offer to let me use her camera, but I knew exactly what would happen if I did borrow it - I'd have to spend at least another hour there photographing everything. And it was really hot out. And it mostly would've been pictures of trees. I've noticed I have a thing for trees. I don't think other people exactly share my passion, so I decided in the interest of not boring my gracious guide, and in not being out in the hot sun, that I should avoid the camera.
Anyway - after that, we drove to her great-grandmothers' house for her 95th birthday. She likes lots of company, I'm told, so she enjoyed having me there. And I'm also told she has never seen a foreigner in person, so she enjoyed that, too. And her memory is very bad, so it was probably a constant pleasant surprise seeing me there. Heh. Ok, that's probably a little disrespectful.
This is about a half-hour drive from the college campus. The college campus is about 20 minutes from the school we met at. And I was walking around the campus for about 45 minutes.
As I mentioned, you start thinking of yourself as being invincible here. So, though it would at home, it never occured to me that I was getting an awful lot of sun.
I should mention again that I was riding a scooter. They do not have roofs.
I should mention also, people here admire lily-white skin, which I usually posses.
Usually. At the moment, though, I have horrible burns on my knees. And my neck. And my face got a little burned, too.
But the knees are the worst.
I think I must have provided some entertainment for Shakira's family - when I arrived at their great-grandmother's house, they asked me why some of my skin was red. I looked, and sure enough, it was. It was then I realized it might have been a good idea to use sunscreen.
So I spent a few hours applying ice and aloe, which did help, like trying to calm a raging fire by making it do yoga. I think my idiotic misery probably was a pretty entertaining gift for the great-grandmother, though I doubt anyone would ever tell me so. (Shakira was also burned, but only on her arms; it still looked fairly painful.)
To make things worse, I did bring aspirin with me. If you take it right after you get burned, your burns will not become as serious, and they'll heal faster. I think. I say it made things worse, though, because I brought it with me...to Tainan. It is still in my other bag, which is still in...Tainan. And people here seem not to believe in taking the stuff. And the place Shakira and her family live is quite a ways away from anything (well, from stores, anyway. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to get more than 100 feet away from other people in this country).
So that was another humbling reminder of my humanity. heh. And quite painful.
The day didn't end there though, and neither did my misery (not to say my evening was unpleasant! It was enjoyable, except for the pain!). But, here this blog will end.
So, I am dedicating this particular entry to God: thank you. I know I've mostly done a fine job of hurting/humbling myself, but I can't help but feel you've influenced something, somewhere. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to kindly ask you to please stop burning me. I get it. Well, the more obvious parts. I'm sure there are deeper levels of meaning that could be found. I know, burning sinners and prideful people and all that. If it's not too much trouble, I'd prefer something differently painful next time - I know there will be a next time (but you better than me, naturally). Variety's the spice of life and all that. Of course, you have a sense of humor, too, so you'll probably humor me, which terrifies me. Ah, well. I suppose that keeps things interesting.
Just being foreign, for example, is enough to get even the prettiest girls interested in you. This is probably true most places; here, though, even having a lousy personality and no personal grooming ability isn't enough to scare them away. Seriously. (Those of you who have lousy personalities and no personal hygiene, please don't take that as an invitation. Not that anyone reading this fits that description. You're all lovely people, of course. I'm just typing this for posterity, in case anyone fitting that description should ever read this.)
Schoolchildren look up to you, too - simply because you are foreign. And adults are often glad to have foreigners show up in their shops or houses, and will offer you things free of charge.
And then there's the fact that I am so much bigger (and possibly stronger?) than a lot of the people here, and the fact that I will be attending NTU (their most presitigous university) ...so I usually am admired and complimented. Oh, and I guess saying some of your favorite things to do are "read and write" are hugely impressive to people here.
I realized several times that I needed some humbling, and, it turns out, "ask and you shall recieve" is more than a saying.
Last week, for example, I walked out of the World Passport Office, looking for food. This is a short digression, by the way, but it is going somewhere (and ending in Taiwan...heh). On my way, I saw the girl at the coffeeshop, Mimi, and decided to ask her what's good to eat. She couldn't decide what to tell me, so she passed the problem on to her boss. He doesn't speak English. Nonetheless, he decided he would personally walk me over to a shop with good food and order it for me. Keep in mind, this is during working hours. He was willing to just walk off and help someone he barely knew. Obviously I appreciated that.
Anyway, he was able to communicate to me that a couple things were good at this food stand, so I agreed to order them. One was a dish with lamb or goat, I'm not exactly sure, and the other was some sort of soup.
He then took me back to his coffeeshop (which is called Magic Coffee (I like the name)...oh, and he also owns the internet cafe next door, which is very large and prosperous - and he's a year older than me. Grr.), and offered me a seat. Then he brought me a free drink, which was as excellent as it was mystifying. It was icy-cold tea with some minty and citrus-y flavors.
So I was sitting there reflecting on how much like infants we all are here - we can't speak, or do anything for ourselves, and must rely totally on the kindness of strangers (who are admittedly very kind). I admit, my Chinese probably even sounds infantile. I ate some of my food, then decided I'd try my soup. Now, you need to know soup works differently here: it does not come in a soup bowl. Instead you are given soup in a plastic bag, and you then can pour it into the soup bowl you are also given, all at your convenience. It seems it would be more convenient just to have it in the bowl to start with, but, I am just a guest here.
Foreshadowing aside, I decided to introduce the soup into the bowl that it was so obviously destined to meet. I decided they wouldn't give me more soup than they would bowl, as that would be silly, and would be totally impossible, as the two were so obviously designed for each other.
I was wrong, of course. I was also a little hasty in pouring: I poured it all at once.
Fortunately, I managed to spare my shirt. Unfortunately, I did so at the expense of my shorts...and the legs they covered with their admirably thin fabric. That thin fabric is very nice for keeping me cool - usually. It actually doesn't keep me cool against boiling soup, however.
It burned.
So here I am, thinking what infants we are, and then I dump scalding soup all over myself. So there I sat, with my lunch spilled all over myself. (Unlike an infant, though, I didn't cry about it - I didn't even make a noise. I calmly, but with some haste, tried to get the remaining liquid on the table to spill away from me).
So, God, thank you for reminding me that you do listen. Thankfulness is a little hard to muster when you've been soup-burned. heh. But, I was quite painfully reminded that I'm only human, and a rather careless one at that. I did need it.
(oh, and as an aside, I decided I might as well stay and finish my soup. It, and the food, were both very good, and I felt as though the soup put up a fair fight, so I had some satisfaction from that.)
But, you know me. Well, probably everyone else who's ever lived, too. I need reminders.
This last weekend, I was invited to see a bit of Jia Yi (the city I'm in - though for whatever reason, they spell it Chiai, or Chia yi) by my assistant, Shakira (she named herself), and some of my students.
So Shakira took me by scooter to a college campus nearby, and showed me around. It's a beautiful campus, surrounded be trees and water, very large, and up on a hill looking down on the city. I wish I had pictures. Shakira did offer to let me use her camera, but I knew exactly what would happen if I did borrow it - I'd have to spend at least another hour there photographing everything. And it was really hot out. And it mostly would've been pictures of trees. I've noticed I have a thing for trees. I don't think other people exactly share my passion, so I decided in the interest of not boring my gracious guide, and in not being out in the hot sun, that I should avoid the camera.
Anyway - after that, we drove to her great-grandmothers' house for her 95th birthday. She likes lots of company, I'm told, so she enjoyed having me there. And I'm also told she has never seen a foreigner in person, so she enjoyed that, too. And her memory is very bad, so it was probably a constant pleasant surprise seeing me there. Heh. Ok, that's probably a little disrespectful.
This is about a half-hour drive from the college campus. The college campus is about 20 minutes from the school we met at. And I was walking around the campus for about 45 minutes.
As I mentioned, you start thinking of yourself as being invincible here. So, though it would at home, it never occured to me that I was getting an awful lot of sun.
I should mention again that I was riding a scooter. They do not have roofs.
I should mention also, people here admire lily-white skin, which I usually posses.
Usually. At the moment, though, I have horrible burns on my knees. And my neck. And my face got a little burned, too.
But the knees are the worst.
I think I must have provided some entertainment for Shakira's family - when I arrived at their great-grandmother's house, they asked me why some of my skin was red. I looked, and sure enough, it was. It was then I realized it might have been a good idea to use sunscreen.
So I spent a few hours applying ice and aloe, which did help, like trying to calm a raging fire by making it do yoga. I think my idiotic misery probably was a pretty entertaining gift for the great-grandmother, though I doubt anyone would ever tell me so. (Shakira was also burned, but only on her arms; it still looked fairly painful.)
To make things worse, I did bring aspirin with me. If you take it right after you get burned, your burns will not become as serious, and they'll heal faster. I think. I say it made things worse, though, because I brought it with me...to Tainan. It is still in my other bag, which is still in...Tainan. And people here seem not to believe in taking the stuff. And the place Shakira and her family live is quite a ways away from anything (well, from stores, anyway. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to get more than 100 feet away from other people in this country).
So that was another humbling reminder of my humanity. heh. And quite painful.
The day didn't end there though, and neither did my misery (not to say my evening was unpleasant! It was enjoyable, except for the pain!). But, here this blog will end.
So, I am dedicating this particular entry to God: thank you. I know I've mostly done a fine job of hurting/humbling myself, but I can't help but feel you've influenced something, somewhere. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to kindly ask you to please stop burning me. I get it. Well, the more obvious parts. I'm sure there are deeper levels of meaning that could be found. I know, burning sinners and prideful people and all that. If it's not too much trouble, I'd prefer something differently painful next time - I know there will be a next time (but you better than me, naturally). Variety's the spice of life and all that. Of course, you have a sense of humor, too, so you'll probably humor me, which terrifies me. Ah, well. I suppose that keeps things interesting.
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