Now that Keith is gone, I feel some responsibility to keep this thing going. Perhaps I should change the name...
I was contemplating how my experience will change, being here on my own. It's hard to think of improving my Mandarin since I won't be here much longer. But then it can't get worse. I've been here over a year and am still challenged to communicate at all. I do get a little practice every day, mostly ordering tea or food. And still it requires huge patience on the part of whoever I'm talking with. Here I've translated a typical experience:
Me: Please give me a dirty cup of person pork milk tea.
Vendor: umm.... Ah. You want a medium bubble tea?
Me: Right. I don't want soup.
Vendor: No sugar?
Me. right.
Vendor: 25NT
I promptly hand over my 40 NT (because I've misheard), and the vendor kindly hands back my change.
Every once in a while I run into a person who actually refuses to understand me, even when I'm sure I'm saying something correctly, because I'm a westerner and they can't grasp the concept of someone who looks like me speaking in Mandarin.
But more often than not, people are unbelievably patient and understanding. They make suggestions, mime and try their high school English as I mercilessly mangle their ancient and respected language. I won't be able to do it for much longer, so I'll try to get out there a little more.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Well, this's unexpected
So, to all of our four faithful readers, there's been an unexpected kink in this, our overseas adventure. First, let me 'splain. No, there is too much, let me sum up:
I had reapplied to Eastern Washington's grad program to finally finish my grad degree. I've been accepted; however, a key class they decided was necessary and vital for me to prove I understand before I get the degree is only offered in the fall, every two years. So I either get back to the States by this time next week or I don't go at all.
So, unfortunately, I have to get out of the country with a great deal of alacrity. Marie's going to be here for another couple of months, finishing her classes, clearing out our apartment, finding someone who wants three pounds of raisin bran I just bought at Costco... and I'm packing like mad.
I'm trying to guess what I'll need for a couple months on my own and what I should ship home 'cause it's cheaper than buying it again but it'll take a month to arrive and I don't want Marie to have to struggle with packing a lot of stuff as she's living and leaving on her own... that sound like an overheated microchip would be my brain.
I think my only major regret now is that I just discovered a good way to feel like I'm experiencing Taiwan: hiking and biking around the city. It feels like I'd barely started but I don't have time now to see more. We were even supposed to go on another rafting trip in a few weeks, and Marie and I had talked about going south to Kenting to the national park and beach there for a little vacation. But we don't have time for that either.
And of course, there's the separation. Right now, it doesn't feel like we'll be on opposite ends of the world. We've traveled enough and we have ways of communicating that it might feel like I'm in Cheney and she's in Seattle, I hope. We'll see.
In the process of packing I've come across fleece sweatshirts and jackets I haven't seen for months or longer, and I'm very excited to be going somewhere where I can use them. I did see Seattle is still running high seventies some days, but here, it doesn't get below 85 until three a.m. and then it's already warming up. I've forgotten what it's like to not be sticky. So there are good things ahead.
And of course, there's the language thing.
But now that I have to get out in a hurry, I'm suddenly feeling like Taiwan, like many places where you spend real time, has gone unexplored. In spite of the effort and time it suddenly feels like we've barely seen anything. I think that feeling's a given, between the nostalgia of living in a place for this long and that I've known for months that we haven't done or seen what we wanted, because of class schedules, cost, or heat. But it's still a poignant regret. And this possibly more so because it's not easy to think we could return.
So, last entry from me from Taiwan. I hope it's been worth reading.
I had reapplied to Eastern Washington's grad program to finally finish my grad degree. I've been accepted; however, a key class they decided was necessary and vital for me to prove I understand before I get the degree is only offered in the fall, every two years. So I either get back to the States by this time next week or I don't go at all.
So, unfortunately, I have to get out of the country with a great deal of alacrity. Marie's going to be here for another couple of months, finishing her classes, clearing out our apartment, finding someone who wants three pounds of raisin bran I just bought at Costco... and I'm packing like mad.
I'm trying to guess what I'll need for a couple months on my own and what I should ship home 'cause it's cheaper than buying it again but it'll take a month to arrive and I don't want Marie to have to struggle with packing a lot of stuff as she's living and leaving on her own... that sound like an overheated microchip would be my brain.
I think my only major regret now is that I just discovered a good way to feel like I'm experiencing Taiwan: hiking and biking around the city. It feels like I'd barely started but I don't have time now to see more. We were even supposed to go on another rafting trip in a few weeks, and Marie and I had talked about going south to Kenting to the national park and beach there for a little vacation. But we don't have time for that either.
And of course, there's the separation. Right now, it doesn't feel like we'll be on opposite ends of the world. We've traveled enough and we have ways of communicating that it might feel like I'm in Cheney and she's in Seattle, I hope. We'll see.
In the process of packing I've come across fleece sweatshirts and jackets I haven't seen for months or longer, and I'm very excited to be going somewhere where I can use them. I did see Seattle is still running high seventies some days, but here, it doesn't get below 85 until three a.m. and then it's already warming up. I've forgotten what it's like to not be sticky. So there are good things ahead.
And of course, there's the language thing.
But now that I have to get out in a hurry, I'm suddenly feeling like Taiwan, like many places where you spend real time, has gone unexplored. In spite of the effort and time it suddenly feels like we've barely seen anything. I think that feeling's a given, between the nostalgia of living in a place for this long and that I've known for months that we haven't done or seen what we wanted, because of class schedules, cost, or heat. But it's still a poignant regret. And this possibly more so because it's not easy to think we could return.
So, last entry from me from Taiwan. I hope it's been worth reading.
Friday, September 4, 2009
The heat of September
September is Ghost month, it's an oooold tradition of appeasing ghosts and giving gifts to family who have passed on, usually in the form of money, but fake money. You can buy bricks of the fake stuff for next to nothing, but how, you ask, do you get it to the ghosts and family members? Why by burning it, naturally.
It's about 95 degrees and 60 percent humidity so it feels like a hundred and ten so it must be time to burn things!
This's one of a thousand of these things. Some are quite large. That's one on the right.
Even the companies get in on the act with tables of food offerings and a fire in front of the office to burn "money."
I know we grill hot dogs and hamburgers in the heat of July and August, but just picture walking down the street, any street, on your way to work, dodging from shade to shade 'cause that takes off ten degrees from the feeling of hundred plus heat, and then you walk by a full on fire burning blocks of paper, which as literature has taught us, is 451 degrees. It is, literally, staggering because you will take an involuntary step away from the heat, even if it means stepping into direct sunlight.
Now do it ten more times on your way to work. I am whining. It's hot here. It's just disappointing that we couldn't have these little oases of warmth drawing you nearer in November or March, instead they're driving people away.
But at least I don't have this job.
What d'ya do when you need a park lawn mowed? You get a bunch of guys with gas-powered weedwackers. Really. They get a half-a-dozen guys or so with these things, making noise like mutant yellow jackets taking over the city, and they go to work on whole fields. I've seen it several times and been agog and bewildered every time.
Did I mention I had Friday off? A class I've had for months on Fridays finally dissolved. I'd feel bad about not working and not making money, but I don't. I really didn't like that class.
Teaching 'tween-agers a foreign language until ten on a Friday night does no one any good. They're cranky and difficult and stubborn, not unreasonably but still, so it's hard to enjoy it week after week. So I was really glad to exchange it, even with the lost income, for an afternoon biking down the Xindian river.
I watched this guy work on flying his dragon kite for a few minutes. It seemed like an infuriatingly difficult thing to fly. I watched a couple times as he landed the thing and untwisted the tail. And it seemed to be all tail.
This corner gave me an idea of how crowded things must get on a weekend. There isn't an actual stop sign, but there is a line there so you know where to stop. And they have these road signs, just like for auto traffic. This says, if you're going to Gongguan go left, for Jingmei go right. They're neighborhoods and metro rail stops, and Jingmei is the name of the river you follow, so it's hard to say specifically what they're pointing to.
But the width of these "trails" is amazing. You can see the tip of a double-yellow line there. And they go for miles. Oh, and some places are paved in this great asphalt that gives your tires a whirring, whizzing sound like a high-performance engine revving. Nice touch.
I was really glad I went to the trouble of renting a bike. I haven't been on a bike for more than a year, so having another way to get around was a real treat. And things were nearly deserted. Very few bikes and people on paths and trails made for hundreds... or thousands.
It was quite hot and humid, but biking adds that breeze which makes this time of year tolerable, at least, if you're willing to work for it, so really, you sweat either way, but this way I got to see miles of park and river I'd never seen before, or would any other way.
And I went biking for two-and-a-half hours, for a 100 NT. If I haven't done the exchange enough yet, that's about three bucks. Good deal.
And this was just a riot. I love how signs in this town make as little or less sense than stuff in the States.
I saw this and came to a screeching stop 'cause I knew I had to take a picture. It wasn't that I stopped really fast, but the front disc brake was worn so it shrieked when I used it hard.
And finally, the only way to appreciate this is aurally. Turn your sound WAY up so you too can experience what Marie and I hear when parades and other traditional Chinese events take place in our neighborhood and down our street.
I know it's kinda mean, but can anyone find the beat that guy's clapping?!
This music's a local thing and we haven't gotten used to it. I've seen these lessons before and these are much more tolerable. I can't hear a difference between this and what they play in a parade, but in the parade they come down or near our street and they're electrified. So in the canyons of buildings it's loud, even inside our apartment, five floors up.
I like the hikes I've taken, getting away from the city and such, but biking here's a blast. It's so flat. I'll have to see if I can get Marie out in the heat before we leave.
It's about 95 degrees and 60 percent humidity so it feels like a hundred and ten so it must be time to burn things!
This's one of a thousand of these things. Some are quite large. That's one on the right.
Even the companies get in on the act with tables of food offerings and a fire in front of the office to burn "money."
I know we grill hot dogs and hamburgers in the heat of July and August, but just picture walking down the street, any street, on your way to work, dodging from shade to shade 'cause that takes off ten degrees from the feeling of hundred plus heat, and then you walk by a full on fire burning blocks of paper, which as literature has taught us, is 451 degrees. It is, literally, staggering because you will take an involuntary step away from the heat, even if it means stepping into direct sunlight.
Now do it ten more times on your way to work. I am whining. It's hot here. It's just disappointing that we couldn't have these little oases of warmth drawing you nearer in November or March, instead they're driving people away.
But at least I don't have this job.
What d'ya do when you need a park lawn mowed? You get a bunch of guys with gas-powered weedwackers. Really. They get a half-a-dozen guys or so with these things, making noise like mutant yellow jackets taking over the city, and they go to work on whole fields. I've seen it several times and been agog and bewildered every time.
Did I mention I had Friday off? A class I've had for months on Fridays finally dissolved. I'd feel bad about not working and not making money, but I don't. I really didn't like that class.
Teaching 'tween-agers a foreign language until ten on a Friday night does no one any good. They're cranky and difficult and stubborn, not unreasonably but still, so it's hard to enjoy it week after week. So I was really glad to exchange it, even with the lost income, for an afternoon biking down the Xindian river.
I watched this guy work on flying his dragon kite for a few minutes. It seemed like an infuriatingly difficult thing to fly. I watched a couple times as he landed the thing and untwisted the tail. And it seemed to be all tail.
This corner gave me an idea of how crowded things must get on a weekend. There isn't an actual stop sign, but there is a line there so you know where to stop. And they have these road signs, just like for auto traffic. This says, if you're going to Gongguan go left, for Jingmei go right. They're neighborhoods and metro rail stops, and Jingmei is the name of the river you follow, so it's hard to say specifically what they're pointing to.
But the width of these "trails" is amazing. You can see the tip of a double-yellow line there. And they go for miles. Oh, and some places are paved in this great asphalt that gives your tires a whirring, whizzing sound like a high-performance engine revving. Nice touch.
I was really glad I went to the trouble of renting a bike. I haven't been on a bike for more than a year, so having another way to get around was a real treat. And things were nearly deserted. Very few bikes and people on paths and trails made for hundreds... or thousands.
It was quite hot and humid, but biking adds that breeze which makes this time of year tolerable, at least, if you're willing to work for it, so really, you sweat either way, but this way I got to see miles of park and river I'd never seen before, or would any other way.
And I went biking for two-and-a-half hours, for a 100 NT. If I haven't done the exchange enough yet, that's about three bucks. Good deal.
And this was just a riot. I love how signs in this town make as little or less sense than stuff in the States.
I saw this and came to a screeching stop 'cause I knew I had to take a picture. It wasn't that I stopped really fast, but the front disc brake was worn so it shrieked when I used it hard.
And finally, the only way to appreciate this is aurally. Turn your sound WAY up so you too can experience what Marie and I hear when parades and other traditional Chinese events take place in our neighborhood and down our street.
I know it's kinda mean, but can anyone find the beat that guy's clapping?!
This music's a local thing and we haven't gotten used to it. I've seen these lessons before and these are much more tolerable. I can't hear a difference between this and what they play in a parade, but in the parade they come down or near our street and they're electrified. So in the canyons of buildings it's loud, even inside our apartment, five floors up.
I like the hikes I've taken, getting away from the city and such, but biking here's a blast. It's so flat. I'll have to see if I can get Marie out in the heat before we leave.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Sweatin' to the oldies (in Chinese)
More mountain climbing! Yay! Until you get about two-thirds up and then, phooey.
But before you go hiking, gotta have a healthy breakfast.
These are called "chicken paws" in the menu. They just gave them to Marie at a fried chicken place she goes to. She says they must like her to give her free food. I shouldn't disagree but I wonder if this isn't the fast food version of the horse head in your bed.
We chucked the whole bucket. Marie said we should leave 'em out for the local dogs, but I'm worried about local rats and cockroaches.
Speaking of: I've recently learned that window cleaner makes a surprisingly effective roach killer. Part of life in the tropics, you have to deal with the occasional roach. They get in through the AC. I've never seen Marie hide under the covers until a roach flew in the bedroom one morning. She said she heard it go "oooph" when it hit the far wall. I went for the cleaner while she left the room, somehow without touching the floor....
Really cleaner works 'cause we've only seen a couple this entire summer, tho' we still have a lot of summer to go, here. Something about drowning them in ammonia. At least the area's clean after it's dead, which's a plus when it greets you on the kitchen counter. And I should be grateful it just walked out in the light and found me and not Marie.
But who cares!
The educational part of my hike yesterday was how I had a map and a guide book and I still ended up on the wrong mountain. I think I was one mountain west of Yangming mountain. I was definately on Zhongzheng mountain but I must've made a wrong turn at Albuquerque, so to speak.
I was really glad to find these trail signs, even if they took me to the wrong mountain they were rather comforting. Tho' it's pretty funny to see them while you're still in town.
I love how people will build a row of three and four story apartments across the road from nothing. Sure, everyone wants the view, but I'm used to it being out the back of the apartment-house-condo.
I was aiming at "the tallest mountain north of Taipei" Yangming mountain. At not quite 1,200 meters I thought it'd be okay. I keep forgetting to convert. So I set out to walk up instead of taking the bus to a trailhead.
In my defense, I did get to see some really great scenery like this tower.
And this temple or something like it. And it was a really nice day. The high point was about 94 so with the humidity it felt like 111 (so says weather.com). But I had a lot of fluids and a hat and lightweight clothing. I spent my day dodging from shade to shade and I was fine.
I don't know what this building is, but it was amazingly yellow. It's like a like detergent ad. As in, "gee Marge, how do you keep your building colors so bright?"
I'm still working on getting details of what this place is, 'cause I want to know. It was just on the side of this suburban road on the side of the mountain. Obviously, it's not little, but it wasn't as eye-popping as most temples are with the bright colors and dragons. More like a hotel, but it's not in a good place for that.
This's how I spent most of the afternoon. Some group had cut and placed more of the footpath stones through this bamboo grove. It was kinda stifling in there, but it was shaded, so there was a trade off. And every few hundred feet the trail would cross a road and I could get a breeze.
The road for cars and scooters, which was not made for two cars to pass each other, weaved back and forth, while the hiking trail shot straight up the side. It was a great physical example of switchbacks versus straight-up-the-mountain hiking.
I kinda like the straight-up idea, but I found myself considering each stairway and if I wanted to go slower and longer. I took a couple short curves on the road. Fortunately, the park at the top was the only destination and Tuesday afternoon wasn't a big hiking time, and I could hear everything coming.
This's an example of how confused this city and country is about pedestrians, or how comfortable people are with traffic, I haven't figured it out, myself. I'm just really careful when I hike these places.
You can see next to that black-on-yellow arrow in the middle, there's a railing. There are benches there and even a trashcan (which's really unusual for Taipei) and the view is great, terrific even. So they want people to come and rest and look, but you can see the shoulders of the road... there aren't any. Weirdos.
I did finally make it to the parking lot at the top of the mountain. At the time I still thought it was Yangming and I thought a bus would stop there and carry me home. So I decided to dig in and climb just another five hundred meters for the view, even tho' the parking lot was pleasant and pleasantly breezy after an hour or more in bamboo groves.
But I did learn that when they say .5 km, they almost certainly mean, straight up. I found this sign after what felt like a half mile. It says, you have only walked .2 km, weenie.
I did meet this guy on the way up. He was very happy to sit and have me scratch him. He didn't want me to leave, but he didn't want to come up with me. I guess he'd seen the view plenty of times.
And it'd become a mantra for the day, "and what did I find when I got there? More stairs!" It was staggering after the afternoon, but it was worth it.
I did an entire 360 pan. The mountains behind this one are obviously larger. That was disappointing, especially how big they still looked. I had to save those for another day. Obviously it doesn't do as much in this small frame, but it's overlooking the entire Taipei basin and as the camera pans it goes from east to west. You can see all the way from downtown Taipei and 101 to Danshuei and the Taiwan Strait.
The amazing part is, I'm on the wrong mountain. This's only about 650 meters up. It sounds better when I say it's a little more than 2,000 feet, but until I got to the parking lot, I thought I'd climbed almost 4,000 feet. Talk about a let down, or a didn't-go-so-high.
But it was still a lot of fun. I did discover that by not being on the right mountain, there was no bus to take me back. I had to walk down a half hour before I found a bus stop, which took me to the metro, which took me home.
Oh, in the video, technically, I think you can see our neighborhood, if not our house.
And I saw this and I remembered mom telling me I needed to take pictures with people in them. So, there you go, ready-made self-portrait opportunity.
But before you go hiking, gotta have a healthy breakfast.
These are called "chicken paws" in the menu. They just gave them to Marie at a fried chicken place she goes to. She says they must like her to give her free food. I shouldn't disagree but I wonder if this isn't the fast food version of the horse head in your bed.
We chucked the whole bucket. Marie said we should leave 'em out for the local dogs, but I'm worried about local rats and cockroaches.
Speaking of: I've recently learned that window cleaner makes a surprisingly effective roach killer. Part of life in the tropics, you have to deal with the occasional roach. They get in through the AC. I've never seen Marie hide under the covers until a roach flew in the bedroom one morning. She said she heard it go "oooph" when it hit the far wall. I went for the cleaner while she left the room, somehow without touching the floor....
Really cleaner works 'cause we've only seen a couple this entire summer, tho' we still have a lot of summer to go, here. Something about drowning them in ammonia. At least the area's clean after it's dead, which's a plus when it greets you on the kitchen counter. And I should be grateful it just walked out in the light and found me and not Marie.
But who cares!
The educational part of my hike yesterday was how I had a map and a guide book and I still ended up on the wrong mountain. I think I was one mountain west of Yangming mountain. I was definately on Zhongzheng mountain but I must've made a wrong turn at Albuquerque, so to speak.
I was really glad to find these trail signs, even if they took me to the wrong mountain they were rather comforting. Tho' it's pretty funny to see them while you're still in town.
I love how people will build a row of three and four story apartments across the road from nothing. Sure, everyone wants the view, but I'm used to it being out the back of the apartment-house-condo.
I was aiming at "the tallest mountain north of Taipei" Yangming mountain. At not quite 1,200 meters I thought it'd be okay. I keep forgetting to convert. So I set out to walk up instead of taking the bus to a trailhead.
In my defense, I did get to see some really great scenery like this tower.
And this temple or something like it. And it was a really nice day. The high point was about 94 so with the humidity it felt like 111 (so says weather.com). But I had a lot of fluids and a hat and lightweight clothing. I spent my day dodging from shade to shade and I was fine.
I don't know what this building is, but it was amazingly yellow. It's like a like detergent ad. As in, "gee Marge, how do you keep your building colors so bright?"
I'm still working on getting details of what this place is, 'cause I want to know. It was just on the side of this suburban road on the side of the mountain. Obviously, it's not little, but it wasn't as eye-popping as most temples are with the bright colors and dragons. More like a hotel, but it's not in a good place for that.
This's how I spent most of the afternoon. Some group had cut and placed more of the footpath stones through this bamboo grove. It was kinda stifling in there, but it was shaded, so there was a trade off. And every few hundred feet the trail would cross a road and I could get a breeze.
The road for cars and scooters, which was not made for two cars to pass each other, weaved back and forth, while the hiking trail shot straight up the side. It was a great physical example of switchbacks versus straight-up-the-mountain hiking.
I kinda like the straight-up idea, but I found myself considering each stairway and if I wanted to go slower and longer. I took a couple short curves on the road. Fortunately, the park at the top was the only destination and Tuesday afternoon wasn't a big hiking time, and I could hear everything coming.
This's an example of how confused this city and country is about pedestrians, or how comfortable people are with traffic, I haven't figured it out, myself. I'm just really careful when I hike these places.
You can see next to that black-on-yellow arrow in the middle, there's a railing. There are benches there and even a trashcan (which's really unusual for Taipei) and the view is great, terrific even. So they want people to come and rest and look, but you can see the shoulders of the road... there aren't any. Weirdos.
I did finally make it to the parking lot at the top of the mountain. At the time I still thought it was Yangming and I thought a bus would stop there and carry me home. So I decided to dig in and climb just another five hundred meters for the view, even tho' the parking lot was pleasant and pleasantly breezy after an hour or more in bamboo groves.
But I did learn that when they say .5 km, they almost certainly mean, straight up. I found this sign after what felt like a half mile. It says, you have only walked .2 km, weenie.
I did meet this guy on the way up. He was very happy to sit and have me scratch him. He didn't want me to leave, but he didn't want to come up with me. I guess he'd seen the view plenty of times.
And it'd become a mantra for the day, "and what did I find when I got there? More stairs!" It was staggering after the afternoon, but it was worth it.
I did an entire 360 pan. The mountains behind this one are obviously larger. That was disappointing, especially how big they still looked. I had to save those for another day. Obviously it doesn't do as much in this small frame, but it's overlooking the entire Taipei basin and as the camera pans it goes from east to west. You can see all the way from downtown Taipei and 101 to Danshuei and the Taiwan Strait.
The amazing part is, I'm on the wrong mountain. This's only about 650 meters up. It sounds better when I say it's a little more than 2,000 feet, but until I got to the parking lot, I thought I'd climbed almost 4,000 feet. Talk about a let down, or a didn't-go-so-high.
But it was still a lot of fun. I did discover that by not being on the right mountain, there was no bus to take me back. I had to walk down a half hour before I found a bus stop, which took me to the metro, which took me home.
Oh, in the video, technically, I think you can see our neighborhood, if not our house.
And I saw this and I remembered mom telling me I needed to take pictures with people in them. So, there you go, ready-made self-portrait opportunity.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Up the mountain
The typhoon thing has been really weird. It did so much flooding damage in the south but Marie and I went to the mall that weekend. There's a place called Miramar with a movie theater and shops and an arcade and so on. It's got a stop on the new MRT line, so we went to see the new route, which's an elevated train so it's like a really smooth, double-decker bus ride, instead of riding a fast earthworm.
It was rainy but it was only about 30 C (85 ish) after all the typhoon rain, so it was much more comfortable. Ironically, the 80 percent humidity made you want to move so you'd have a breeze.
We had lunch there, which was a little disappointing, only 'cause it was rather bland. Usually the steamed potstickers are tastier than that. Go figure. And we saw the ferris wheel, which's big enough they light it at night and can be easily seen from Taipei 101. It's like the Eye in London.
In retrospect, since there was a typhoon in the area, it made sense we didn't go for a ride (I'm pretty sure I saw a few people on it, but not many). But we were looking at it and Marie said, "I'll bet they aren't air-conditioned." And that's where we left it.
On our way back, we got donuts. Have I mentioned that donuts are a dessert or snack, here? Like, in the evening? They are. You want donuts for breakfast, you gotta plan ahead, and then not eat 'em when you get home. (That's the hard part.)
I haven't tried this–'cause Mochi rings are really chewy and I don't care for 'em; they're practically gum, there's nothing like 'em in food Americana–so I don't know if it's corn-flakes kinda corn or corn corn, but they do love corn here. And, you could be forgiven if you thought they like to misspell things (it says "Corn Curmb").
And this we saw when Marie was trying to find a keyboard for a friend . I've seen these pink guitars in lots of guitar stores, but I didn't have a camera. Mostly this's for my dad. I'm sorry he didn't get to see this while he was here.
Really, the best Hello Kitty is the Hello Kitty wine (I am not making this up) but this's a pretty good second.
But I finally went hiking again on my day off! Ha! I went to the same area I went last month. So in the photo of the trail in the woods, I came from the direction the photo was looking.
This was particularly entertaining 'cause I forgot to look at a map before I left home, so I wasn't even sure what stop I should get off at. I did find the stop, but the map in the station didn't have any details about where to find the other end of the trail (so I could do it backwards to make it seem different). So I just wandered up to where it said the trailhead was and I took the right fork of the trail instead of the left I took last time.
It worked out very well. The trails are marked, but really, once you get away from the city, which's pretty sudden, there isn't a whole lot you can do but follow the trail.
So after following a canal out of the urban area–chasing herons all the way–and going up the trail and lots of stairs and more trail but mostly lots more stairs. I found something that looked promising.
More stairs!
That's the city below (that's how far up I'd already hiked) and these stairs run up into the foliage and they keep going.
After these stairs, I found this edge just away from the trail, so you get an idea of how high I'd hiked. It took a little effort to get to, and I wasn't very close to the edge, mom. I stuck the camera out.
My best guess, with a little help from Google, I was somewhere from four to five hundred meters up. It's hard to be sure, but it seemed like even more.
I found this marker a little farther along. It says 4K+0M, but I don't know from where. I was really confused when I found this one five meters farther on.
So, I really don't know how far I went, but it took a couple of hours and 32 ounces of water.
Unfortunately, I didn't remember to bring any dry clothes for the 95 degree, sixty percent humidity day, but there was a breeze and shade, tho' that didn't stop profuse sweating.
But this's the amusing part of Taiwan. Almost 500 meters up a steep hillside, there's a Chinese inspired pavilion. Surprisingly, it's not painted bright red.
But! Because it's Taipei (second most people per square mile on earth, look out Calcutta!) there's a couple of guys there reading and napping on a Tuesday afternoon.
Just a little farther up the trail (it was mostly level at this stage) I found this shelter. The unexpected thing is it's completely made of concrete. Maybe some kind of plaster, but it's really solid. No water, insect, or mold damage on this thing.
There's also a little temple on the other side. I was going to take a picture, but it felt awkward 'cause, yes, someone had either come up the 500 meters from the city or from the town a kilometer on the other side of the hill to pray. And no, this's not accessible by car, scooter, or bus. If you own a goat, that might work.
But this's why I came up here. Babbling brook and no city noises or concrete walls. The little old lady (you can hear her humming) almost bumped into me as I was standing on the bridge. I guess not that many people come through. But she was funny 'cause she was up the trail, above me on the stairs, and she starts offering me some kinda juice box, a beer (no joke), and fruit. I'd have taken a video of the exchange but the end of that video was when my 2 gig chip filled up.
I'd have considered taking something, just to be polite (I think) and maybe make her feel better (I hope) but I was really afraid the juice box looked like it was asparagus (yes, asparagus juice, in a kiddie box, with a tiny little straw, bleeeech), and I've been kinda ill on beer lately (like an allergy, thank you very much), and the fruit, well, my bag was already kinda icky. I didn't think the fruit would be edible when it got home. Accepting anything felt kinda wasteful.
I kept thanking her and telling her I (politely) didn't want any, but I almost had to beat her off with a stick.
It wasn't hard with her, but we say "bu yong" a lot, which's the polite way to say "I don't want it" and I notice it's easier in a foreign language to be polite when someone's shoving a flyer in your face 'cause you don't really understand what you're saying. You just know this's what you're supposed to say.
I headed on down the trail towards the Outdoor Classroom of Water and Soil Conservation of Guizikeng. Incidentally, Guizikeng is the name of the trail and the area and the mountain.
There were a zillion gecko-salamander things that kept running underfoot, but way too fast to photograph. But this frog sat still.
For a moment I wondered if he was dead, 'cause I kept getting closer and closer but he didn't move or even blink. Then I nudged him with my toe and nothing. Then I brushed him with a leaf and nothing. Then I tapped him with my finger and POW! Like he'd been spring-loaded and just trying not to laugh. He jumped a couple feet up and a couple across, tho' he was going downhill. I went the other way, also pretty quick.
This's pretty funny. After being in Nebraska for a couple of months last summer and seeing a few more backroads than I remember, seeing a sign for a town pointing down this dirt path, it just made me think that there are still plenty of places where even Nebraska infrastructure seems pretty well done.
And really, this was just a path 'cause it was leading away from the hiking trail. It goes a hundred yards across these kinda peapatch gardens to an asphalt road that leads to the town Xiaopingding. Not like you'd ride your scooter over this narrow dirt road a mile or something.
Finally, I wasn't quite sure what to make of this. There's like a cottage industry here of people seem to survive on recycling everything (except glass, which has to be done industrially). So I wonder if this pile is a garbage dump (there's a golf course around the corner), a recycle center (leave it and someone will haul it away eventually), or someone's drop site before they sort it and take it to exchange for cash.
So that was my day off.
I didn't mention the ants who seemed out in force, or how pleased I am that I don't seem to be tasty to mosquitoes or ticks and I don't think there are ticks, here. And I didn't mention the huge spider I saw silhouetted against the city at a distance of twenty feet but I could still tell he was missing a leg. But that's how busy the day was, too many other things.
It was rainy but it was only about 30 C (85 ish) after all the typhoon rain, so it was much more comfortable. Ironically, the 80 percent humidity made you want to move so you'd have a breeze.
We had lunch there, which was a little disappointing, only 'cause it was rather bland. Usually the steamed potstickers are tastier than that. Go figure. And we saw the ferris wheel, which's big enough they light it at night and can be easily seen from Taipei 101. It's like the Eye in London.
In retrospect, since there was a typhoon in the area, it made sense we didn't go for a ride (I'm pretty sure I saw a few people on it, but not many). But we were looking at it and Marie said, "I'll bet they aren't air-conditioned." And that's where we left it.
On our way back, we got donuts. Have I mentioned that donuts are a dessert or snack, here? Like, in the evening? They are. You want donuts for breakfast, you gotta plan ahead, and then not eat 'em when you get home. (That's the hard part.)
I haven't tried this–'cause Mochi rings are really chewy and I don't care for 'em; they're practically gum, there's nothing like 'em in food Americana–so I don't know if it's corn-flakes kinda corn or corn corn, but they do love corn here. And, you could be forgiven if you thought they like to misspell things (it says "Corn Curmb").
And this we saw when Marie was trying to find a keyboard for a friend . I've seen these pink guitars in lots of guitar stores, but I didn't have a camera. Mostly this's for my dad. I'm sorry he didn't get to see this while he was here.
Really, the best Hello Kitty is the Hello Kitty wine (I am not making this up) but this's a pretty good second.
But I finally went hiking again on my day off! Ha! I went to the same area I went last month. So in the photo of the trail in the woods, I came from the direction the photo was looking.
This was particularly entertaining 'cause I forgot to look at a map before I left home, so I wasn't even sure what stop I should get off at. I did find the stop, but the map in the station didn't have any details about where to find the other end of the trail (so I could do it backwards to make it seem different). So I just wandered up to where it said the trailhead was and I took the right fork of the trail instead of the left I took last time.
It worked out very well. The trails are marked, but really, once you get away from the city, which's pretty sudden, there isn't a whole lot you can do but follow the trail.
So after following a canal out of the urban area–chasing herons all the way–and going up the trail and lots of stairs and more trail but mostly lots more stairs. I found something that looked promising.
More stairs!
That's the city below (that's how far up I'd already hiked) and these stairs run up into the foliage and they keep going.
After these stairs, I found this edge just away from the trail, so you get an idea of how high I'd hiked. It took a little effort to get to, and I wasn't very close to the edge, mom. I stuck the camera out.
My best guess, with a little help from Google, I was somewhere from four to five hundred meters up. It's hard to be sure, but it seemed like even more.
I found this marker a little farther along. It says 4K+0M, but I don't know from where. I was really confused when I found this one five meters farther on.
So, I really don't know how far I went, but it took a couple of hours and 32 ounces of water.
Unfortunately, I didn't remember to bring any dry clothes for the 95 degree, sixty percent humidity day, but there was a breeze and shade, tho' that didn't stop profuse sweating.
But this's the amusing part of Taiwan. Almost 500 meters up a steep hillside, there's a Chinese inspired pavilion. Surprisingly, it's not painted bright red.
But! Because it's Taipei (second most people per square mile on earth, look out Calcutta!) there's a couple of guys there reading and napping on a Tuesday afternoon.
Just a little farther up the trail (it was mostly level at this stage) I found this shelter. The unexpected thing is it's completely made of concrete. Maybe some kind of plaster, but it's really solid. No water, insect, or mold damage on this thing.
There's also a little temple on the other side. I was going to take a picture, but it felt awkward 'cause, yes, someone had either come up the 500 meters from the city or from the town a kilometer on the other side of the hill to pray. And no, this's not accessible by car, scooter, or bus. If you own a goat, that might work.
But this's why I came up here. Babbling brook and no city noises or concrete walls. The little old lady (you can hear her humming) almost bumped into me as I was standing on the bridge. I guess not that many people come through. But she was funny 'cause she was up the trail, above me on the stairs, and she starts offering me some kinda juice box, a beer (no joke), and fruit. I'd have taken a video of the exchange but the end of that video was when my 2 gig chip filled up.
I'd have considered taking something, just to be polite (I think) and maybe make her feel better (I hope) but I was really afraid the juice box looked like it was asparagus (yes, asparagus juice, in a kiddie box, with a tiny little straw, bleeeech), and I've been kinda ill on beer lately (like an allergy, thank you very much), and the fruit, well, my bag was already kinda icky. I didn't think the fruit would be edible when it got home. Accepting anything felt kinda wasteful.
I kept thanking her and telling her I (politely) didn't want any, but I almost had to beat her off with a stick.
It wasn't hard with her, but we say "bu yong" a lot, which's the polite way to say "I don't want it" and I notice it's easier in a foreign language to be polite when someone's shoving a flyer in your face 'cause you don't really understand what you're saying. You just know this's what you're supposed to say.
I headed on down the trail towards the Outdoor Classroom of Water and Soil Conservation of Guizikeng. Incidentally, Guizikeng is the name of the trail and the area and the mountain.
There were a zillion gecko-salamander things that kept running underfoot, but way too fast to photograph. But this frog sat still.
For a moment I wondered if he was dead, 'cause I kept getting closer and closer but he didn't move or even blink. Then I nudged him with my toe and nothing. Then I brushed him with a leaf and nothing. Then I tapped him with my finger and POW! Like he'd been spring-loaded and just trying not to laugh. He jumped a couple feet up and a couple across, tho' he was going downhill. I went the other way, also pretty quick.
This's pretty funny. After being in Nebraska for a couple of months last summer and seeing a few more backroads than I remember, seeing a sign for a town pointing down this dirt path, it just made me think that there are still plenty of places where even Nebraska infrastructure seems pretty well done.
And really, this was just a path 'cause it was leading away from the hiking trail. It goes a hundred yards across these kinda peapatch gardens to an asphalt road that leads to the town Xiaopingding. Not like you'd ride your scooter over this narrow dirt road a mile or something.
Finally, I wasn't quite sure what to make of this. There's like a cottage industry here of people seem to survive on recycling everything (except glass, which has to be done industrially). So I wonder if this pile is a garbage dump (there's a golf course around the corner), a recycle center (leave it and someone will haul it away eventually), or someone's drop site before they sort it and take it to exchange for cash.
So that was my day off.
I didn't mention the ants who seemed out in force, or how pleased I am that I don't seem to be tasty to mosquitoes or ticks and I don't think there are ticks, here. And I didn't mention the huge spider I saw silhouetted against the city at a distance of twenty feet but I could still tell he was missing a leg. But that's how busy the day was, too many other things.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Weather the weather
To everyone who pays attention to the weather in this corner of the world: we're fine. We got two days off out of the the typhoon last weekend, which means a lot of money, but it was really great to have a three day weekend.
I got the impression that they don't like to shut down for two days because of the weather. I don't understand what it means when the city shuts down, 'cause the garbage trucks still came through. But that's when Kojen cancels classes: when the city says they're closed due to inclement weather (but in Chinese).
But I think the typhoon fooled people, 'cause it really looked on radar like the thing hit the island and squished into a big rainstorm. So it was pretty easy to just enjoy the cooler weather (80-85 and 80 percent humidity, don't ask me why it wasn't a hundred, that's what our little gauge said). We went out shopping on Saturday and saw a movie with friends on Sunday and found a great tex-mex place called Yuma.
But here's a little look at our experience.
I got the impression that they don't like to shut down for two days because of the weather. I don't understand what it means when the city shuts down, 'cause the garbage trucks still came through. But that's when Kojen cancels classes: when the city says they're closed due to inclement weather (but in Chinese).
But I think the typhoon fooled people, 'cause it really looked on radar like the thing hit the island and squished into a big rainstorm. So it was pretty easy to just enjoy the cooler weather (80-85 and 80 percent humidity, don't ask me why it wasn't a hundred, that's what our little gauge said). We went out shopping on Saturday and saw a movie with friends on Sunday and found a great tex-mex place called Yuma.
But here's a little look at our experience.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Day down... for the count
One of our faithful readers asked if, with a day off, we would be writing more regularly. I would say emphatically, "yes" but....
I had intended and expected and was excited to go see more of the trail system I'd found last week. Photos of the city from a safe distance, seeing people instead of crowds, more plants than buildings. I was and am excited by the idea and sorry I hadn't made time before. But on Monday I came down with a massive cold or something. I managed to get through my one class on Monday (and be grateful most of my work happened on Saturday when I was a little more coherent) and then fell into a feverish delirium that night, probably 'cause I knew I had the next day off.
I'll skip the details, but it brings up a point about traveling abroad. Yes, it is a complaint but it's part of the adventure or the trials, however you label it. In Taipei I'm quite sure there's a higher instance of respiratory diseases.
I don't know frequency from a local's perspective, but I know I used to get sick maybe once a year in the States. Once every two or three years I'd get something bad enough to be memorable. Here, I've been sick four or five times in a year, regardless of season and several have been tough to forget.
A lot of this is because I don't have an immunity to the local diseases. I'm sure I'd be sick more just by being here. I think I've mentioned before how this's starting to feel like disease-vacation, catching bugs from other parts of the world so you're better equipped for the coming pandemic. If this's true, I feel I'm well equipped now: stop the ride, I'd like to get off... and throw up.
It also doesn't help to work in a school, where every disease to sniffle a nose in I-don't-know-how-many elementary schools, will be run past me. I might even be this sick in the States if I had this job. So between those two major changes in my situation, there are more opportunities to try the local fare, so to speak.
I'm confident that these are respiratory diseases because one: I can taste the air. Two: many people wear masks here, some are to protect others from their disease but many scooter-riders wear them so I think much of the population has suspicions about the air-quality. Three: I've had at least two, maybe three sicknesses where I spent time coughing icky stuff out of my lungs.
One illness actually robbed me of most of my vocal ability for nearly a week. This's particularly notable, for me, because while I've lost my voice for a day or so after screaming for hours at a state basketball tournament or something, I've never lost my voice to a bug.
And it was added irony to the frustration because after ten years or so of editing-writing jobs where speaking wasn't much more than a convenience, I lost my voice on a job when I needed my voice.
Coming face-to-face with some of these realities hasn't really been fun. I mean, it's not the army where you can get, along with job-related injuries, meningitis. But it's been an education to learn just how reliant disease prevention is on my system being familiar with potential diseases. I thought I was doing really well: drinking a fair amount of water and o.j., getting lots of sleep, running occasionally.
But come to find out, running might just be part of the problem. In the States I think running in the winter is what keeps me healthy. I spend less time indoors and I get fresh air and exercise. Here, I'm beginning to suspect that the fine particulates I breathe in might be neutralizing the positive effects or maybe making it worse than not running.
Maybe I should be hiking more. More away from the city and the traffic, and not so much rapid breathing. It would be an interesting physiologic research project, if I had the time and resources.
I hope, next week, to have a real blog with pictures and interesting things to talk about.
I had intended and expected and was excited to go see more of the trail system I'd found last week. Photos of the city from a safe distance, seeing people instead of crowds, more plants than buildings. I was and am excited by the idea and sorry I hadn't made time before. But on Monday I came down with a massive cold or something. I managed to get through my one class on Monday (and be grateful most of my work happened on Saturday when I was a little more coherent) and then fell into a feverish delirium that night, probably 'cause I knew I had the next day off.
I'll skip the details, but it brings up a point about traveling abroad. Yes, it is a complaint but it's part of the adventure or the trials, however you label it. In Taipei I'm quite sure there's a higher instance of respiratory diseases.
I don't know frequency from a local's perspective, but I know I used to get sick maybe once a year in the States. Once every two or three years I'd get something bad enough to be memorable. Here, I've been sick four or five times in a year, regardless of season and several have been tough to forget.
A lot of this is because I don't have an immunity to the local diseases. I'm sure I'd be sick more just by being here. I think I've mentioned before how this's starting to feel like disease-vacation, catching bugs from other parts of the world so you're better equipped for the coming pandemic. If this's true, I feel I'm well equipped now: stop the ride, I'd like to get off... and throw up.
It also doesn't help to work in a school, where every disease to sniffle a nose in I-don't-know-how-many elementary schools, will be run past me. I might even be this sick in the States if I had this job. So between those two major changes in my situation, there are more opportunities to try the local fare, so to speak.
I'm confident that these are respiratory diseases because one: I can taste the air. Two: many people wear masks here, some are to protect others from their disease but many scooter-riders wear them so I think much of the population has suspicions about the air-quality. Three: I've had at least two, maybe three sicknesses where I spent time coughing icky stuff out of my lungs.
One illness actually robbed me of most of my vocal ability for nearly a week. This's particularly notable, for me, because while I've lost my voice for a day or so after screaming for hours at a state basketball tournament or something, I've never lost my voice to a bug.
And it was added irony to the frustration because after ten years or so of editing-writing jobs where speaking wasn't much more than a convenience, I lost my voice on a job when I needed my voice.
Coming face-to-face with some of these realities hasn't really been fun. I mean, it's not the army where you can get, along with job-related injuries, meningitis. But it's been an education to learn just how reliant disease prevention is on my system being familiar with potential diseases. I thought I was doing really well: drinking a fair amount of water and o.j., getting lots of sleep, running occasionally.
But come to find out, running might just be part of the problem. In the States I think running in the winter is what keeps me healthy. I spend less time indoors and I get fresh air and exercise. Here, I'm beginning to suspect that the fine particulates I breathe in might be neutralizing the positive effects or maybe making it worse than not running.
Maybe I should be hiking more. More away from the city and the traffic, and not so much rapid breathing. It would be an interesting physiologic research project, if I had the time and resources.
I hope, next week, to have a real blog with pictures and interesting things to talk about.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Day off
This's pretty unexpected but suddenly my schedule has a big hole in it. I unexpectedly have Tuesdays off. This does leave me feeling a little guilty, 'cause Marie still has to work, and she' s working more than I am, again. But I went for a hike and I felt better.
This's heading towards a hiking trail called Guizikeng. I think it might sound like Guay-tsih-keng, but it depends on how you interpret the letters anyway.
I took the MRT north, about halfway to the coast, to a stop called Fuxinggang (Fu-shing-gong). Then I followed this overflow canal for a while. There were a bunch of these heron-like things that really didn't like it when a walked past. Even tho' I was up on the edge and they were down in the bottom of the canal. But it was okay with me, because every time I'd get close to one it would take off and I'd get to see it soar down the canal.
I did have an interesting time because I'm just sure the map in the MRT station didn't quite match to the real world. It seems to happen once in a while.
Usually they're quite helpful, but it's really hard to check if I screwed up or the map is some how off. But it was entertaining because I kept looking for some sign to my left, as I hiked along the canal, for the start of the trailhead and where I'd start into the rougher country. But the only sign I saw was a board that'd been knocked down and was lying along side the trail next to what looked like someone's front yard. If you imagine a ramshackle collection of corrugated steel, nearly black wood, and tarps to be a house, then this was the front yard. So I kept walking.
It was still really hot and humid. I don't know how hot, but wearing athletic clothes with a breeze made it okay, especially for a July day in the tropics.
I did eventually find a trailhead. It wasn't what I expected, but it led me up a series of switchback rock steps. There was a little sign at the start of the trail that said 2,400 meters. After a really long time of walking up these rough-rock stairs I found 2,300 hundred. I was really glad I didn't have to be anywhere 'cause I was already seeing myself crawling up after a thousand meters of those.
This's what I saw about 300 meters up the trail. On the left you can see a needle-like building in the mist, that's Taipei 101. I did start pretty high. As the train goes north it slowly climbs up the wall of the basin Taipei is in, but I hoofed a lot of the elevation on my own.
Fortunately for me and my water supply, the 2,400 meters didn't mean 2,400 meters of stairs. I still dunno where it was counting to, but the stairs ended after about 4oo meters. It was a surprise, but I was really glad I wouldn't feel the need to call a cab to get me from the top of the mountain.
That's the end of the trail right there. I'd actually found a saddle between rather more serious hills, but it was enough for the moment.
More to the point, finding these little-used places are vital to me and my time in Taipei. I kinda freaked out when I visited New York on my own, years ago. Downtown Seattle took a while to get used to and I've always been glad it's a tight group of building that get filled with pedestrians.
Here, once you walk out of your apartment, there's people, people, people. It's like something out of a Star Trek episode where a planet is so overpopulated they kidnapped Captain Kirk so he can give some young woman, in sixties clothing that's pretending to be other-world-modern, a disease. No points for guessing how he gives her the disease.
Point is, I really need these breaks from humanity. I always forget this until I'm out in places like this and I feel some of the pressure slide away.
I love this. This's just indicative of the local thinking. There isn't any population or even much farming for a couple of kilometers, but they still stick a four-story building in the middle of the draw between these high hills. I suppose that's what the U.S. needs to start doing, instead of covering every inch with houses and yards and asphalt, but it looks very odd to me.
I did have some trouble finding my way off the hillside. There was supposed to have been a trail back into town but, to paraphrase Robert Frost:
Two roads diverged in a green wood,
one of them diverged again,
and I thought, "now which one do I take?"
I get the impression that things on the edge of the city are even less regulated than in. Or maybe they're regulated the same but out in the relative countryside fewer people mind if someone drops a farm across a walking trail. So I picked a trail and ended up walking right up to someone's cultivated plot that brought up images of farms from Vietnam through too many action movies.
I couldn't tell what they were growing, but I figured going through wasn't helpful, so I went back and tried again. This time I wound up in a golf course. At least I could get to a road from there.
Oh, and I realized that while herons are beautiful and majestic while strutting and gliding even on a concrete canal, on a golf course they look a little silly.
I thought this was neat. I'd had no idea when I'd left Taipei City, but apparently I was coming back in from Taipei County-Province.
This was also really instructive. This's a cemetery along a hillside between the golf course and the community along the metro line.
What's unexpected isn't the Christian symbols (if you look really close), but that they're still tombs, not burial plots. Tombs do make more sense, in a very densely populated place like this, but it's interesting to see what allowances are made for broad cultural morays and the specifics of the church.
These are all facing one way. There's no allowances for feng shui, like in Taoism and Buddism shrines. But I did find, as I walked past, hell money. A roll of paper representing a gift to the deceased to be used in the next world. So there's a sort of amalgamation of worshiping at work. Again, not that I'm surprised, but it's interesting to see it.
I liked this view. I gives an impressive idea that I climbed and climbed on my hike.
No, I don't know how or why the buildings are so dense and then suddenly there's open land. Much of the open space isn't farmed that I could see. I do know that demarcation line is the MRT tracks, so maybe the metro owns everything on the right, but that's all I know.
I think I was something of a surprise, walking as I was, down the road. I was much safer than these two, I think. I had low concrete barriers, ostensibly to keep cars from hitting the rock retaining wall, but it gave me a safe little path.
So that was my day off. Next Tuesday I'm going back. This time I'll spend less time poking my way around and I'll charge right up the hillside and find out what's down another path at the top of the saddle.
This's just for entertainment and cultural levity. Marie and I are working on getting new alien-residence-cards. It's a legal thing to stay in the country, or at least to avoid a few thousand in fines when we leave the country.
But to get this card we had to have another medical check. We just saw this show on Discovery channel here about drug resistant tuberculosis. Forget swine flu or bird flu or blue flu. Tuberculosis is scary. I'm glad we get an x-ray for that!
But this photo's of the form we got from the hospital. Look at all the stamps! There's about a dozen stamps on here. Some are just dates, but some are obvious yet obscure. They have this thing about stamps here. If you want something to look official, stamp it!
And this's from a shopping trip after the hike. I had the camera with me and I saw these no smoking signs sold next to the ashtrays. I like that.
So, it's not so hot here, tho' it is usually close to a hundred. But it's the humidity that's impressive. As I walked home one evening, I realized I could actually feel the moisture collect on my skin. I could tell that I was stickier now that half-a-block back. But it really makes you appreciate any little breeze, or air conditioning.
This's heading towards a hiking trail called Guizikeng. I think it might sound like Guay-tsih-keng, but it depends on how you interpret the letters anyway.
I took the MRT north, about halfway to the coast, to a stop called Fuxinggang (Fu-shing-gong). Then I followed this overflow canal for a while. There were a bunch of these heron-like things that really didn't like it when a walked past. Even tho' I was up on the edge and they were down in the bottom of the canal. But it was okay with me, because every time I'd get close to one it would take off and I'd get to see it soar down the canal.
I did have an interesting time because I'm just sure the map in the MRT station didn't quite match to the real world. It seems to happen once in a while.
Usually they're quite helpful, but it's really hard to check if I screwed up or the map is some how off. But it was entertaining because I kept looking for some sign to my left, as I hiked along the canal, for the start of the trailhead and where I'd start into the rougher country. But the only sign I saw was a board that'd been knocked down and was lying along side the trail next to what looked like someone's front yard. If you imagine a ramshackle collection of corrugated steel, nearly black wood, and tarps to be a house, then this was the front yard. So I kept walking.
It was still really hot and humid. I don't know how hot, but wearing athletic clothes with a breeze made it okay, especially for a July day in the tropics.
I did eventually find a trailhead. It wasn't what I expected, but it led me up a series of switchback rock steps. There was a little sign at the start of the trail that said 2,400 meters. After a really long time of walking up these rough-rock stairs I found 2,300 hundred. I was really glad I didn't have to be anywhere 'cause I was already seeing myself crawling up after a thousand meters of those.
This's what I saw about 300 meters up the trail. On the left you can see a needle-like building in the mist, that's Taipei 101. I did start pretty high. As the train goes north it slowly climbs up the wall of the basin Taipei is in, but I hoofed a lot of the elevation on my own.Fortunately for me and my water supply, the 2,400 meters didn't mean 2,400 meters of stairs. I still dunno where it was counting to, but the stairs ended after about 4oo meters. It was a surprise, but I was really glad I wouldn't feel the need to call a cab to get me from the top of the mountain.
That's the end of the trail right there. I'd actually found a saddle between rather more serious hills, but it was enough for the moment.More to the point, finding these little-used places are vital to me and my time in Taipei. I kinda freaked out when I visited New York on my own, years ago. Downtown Seattle took a while to get used to and I've always been glad it's a tight group of building that get filled with pedestrians.
Here, once you walk out of your apartment, there's people, people, people. It's like something out of a Star Trek episode where a planet is so overpopulated they kidnapped Captain Kirk so he can give some young woman, in sixties clothing that's pretending to be other-world-modern, a disease. No points for guessing how he gives her the disease.
Point is, I really need these breaks from humanity. I always forget this until I'm out in places like this and I feel some of the pressure slide away.
I love this. This's just indicative of the local thinking. There isn't any population or even much farming for a couple of kilometers, but they still stick a four-story building in the middle of the draw between these high hills. I suppose that's what the U.S. needs to start doing, instead of covering every inch with houses and yards and asphalt, but it looks very odd to me.
I did have some trouble finding my way off the hillside. There was supposed to have been a trail back into town but, to paraphrase Robert Frost:
Two roads diverged in a green wood,
one of them diverged again,
and I thought, "now which one do I take?"
I get the impression that things on the edge of the city are even less regulated than in. Or maybe they're regulated the same but out in the relative countryside fewer people mind if someone drops a farm across a walking trail. So I picked a trail and ended up walking right up to someone's cultivated plot that brought up images of farms from Vietnam through too many action movies.
I couldn't tell what they were growing, but I figured going through wasn't helpful, so I went back and tried again. This time I wound up in a golf course. At least I could get to a road from there.
Oh, and I realized that while herons are beautiful and majestic while strutting and gliding even on a concrete canal, on a golf course they look a little silly.
I thought this was neat. I'd had no idea when I'd left Taipei City, but apparently I was coming back in from Taipei County-Province.
This was also really instructive. This's a cemetery along a hillside between the golf course and the community along the metro line.
What's unexpected isn't the Christian symbols (if you look really close), but that they're still tombs, not burial plots. Tombs do make more sense, in a very densely populated place like this, but it's interesting to see what allowances are made for broad cultural morays and the specifics of the church.These are all facing one way. There's no allowances for feng shui, like in Taoism and Buddism shrines. But I did find, as I walked past, hell money. A roll of paper representing a gift to the deceased to be used in the next world. So there's a sort of amalgamation of worshiping at work. Again, not that I'm surprised, but it's interesting to see it.
I liked this view. I gives an impressive idea that I climbed and climbed on my hike.
No, I don't know how or why the buildings are so dense and then suddenly there's open land. Much of the open space isn't farmed that I could see. I do know that demarcation line is the MRT tracks, so maybe the metro owns everything on the right, but that's all I know.
I think I was something of a surprise, walking as I was, down the road. I was much safer than these two, I think. I had low concrete barriers, ostensibly to keep cars from hitting the rock retaining wall, but it gave me a safe little path.
So that was my day off. Next Tuesday I'm going back. This time I'll spend less time poking my way around and I'll charge right up the hillside and find out what's down another path at the top of the saddle.
This's just for entertainment and cultural levity. Marie and I are working on getting new alien-residence-cards. It's a legal thing to stay in the country, or at least to avoid a few thousand in fines when we leave the country.
But to get this card we had to have another medical check. We just saw this show on Discovery channel here about drug resistant tuberculosis. Forget swine flu or bird flu or blue flu. Tuberculosis is scary. I'm glad we get an x-ray for that!
But this photo's of the form we got from the hospital. Look at all the stamps! There's about a dozen stamps on here. Some are just dates, but some are obvious yet obscure. They have this thing about stamps here. If you want something to look official, stamp it!
And this's from a shopping trip after the hike. I had the camera with me and I saw these no smoking signs sold next to the ashtrays. I like that.
So, it's not so hot here, tho' it is usually close to a hundred. But it's the humidity that's impressive. As I walked home one evening, I realized I could actually feel the moisture collect on my skin. I could tell that I was stickier now that half-a-block back. But it really makes you appreciate any little breeze, or air conditioning.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Visitors from outta town
It's been a couple of weeks since my parents have been here. I haven't written about it 'cause we showed them most of the things that I've already posted here. But we did do one major thing Marie and I've never done before. We went to Dajia Park to see the Dragon Boat races.
The park is marked by this unusual bridge, called the Dajia (Dah-jah) bridge. It's pretty famous because it's such an unusual structure.
This's everybody headed into the park. Someone at work said that the Dragon Boat races mark the beginning of summer and it's really hot there and then. But we didn't think it was that bad. It was warm, maybe even hot, but it wasn't miserable.
The boats start under the unusual bridge and they run in heats of four for about 500 meters, I think. This's one of the boats returning from a run. They have Dragon Boat races in Seattle, but it was pretty neat to see it done by people for whom it's a very long tradition.
The story goes something like: there was a renowned general who advised the emperor of China. But the emperor would 't listen to his advice, so in his shame or frustration the general threw himself into the river and drowned. The people, in an attempt to prevent his body from being eaten, made these special triangles of sticky rice wrapped in seaweed and threw them in the river for the fish to eat instead. Which's why these things are so popular during this holiday. No one seems to know why they race boats.
My personal theory is everyone gathered at the river as part of this holiday-memorial and at some point, unsurprisingly, some guy turned to another guy and uttered the immortal words, "race ya."
And there was also a midway of sorts with lots of food, like a fudge fountain for your marshmallows or squid on a stick (mom liked that, not) and things you could buy. And there were rides for smaller types.
And now, the weather: currently, at 10:30 a.m., it's 91 and the humidity is 60 percent, so it feels like 102. Which is to say, not what I'm used to June feeling like.
I think the best way to visualize it is: with the A/C on, I can take a cold shower, put on a shirt I keep in the freezer, and the shirt will be sticking to me before I get outside. By the time I get to the subway three blocks away, my shirt will probably be sticking to me more than not, certainly by the time I walk another three blocks outta the subway to school. Not to gross anyone out. It's just hot and sticky here.
My current trick is to wear one t-shirt to work and change into something else when I get there. I thought the shirt-in-the-freezer was a good idea, but cotton just won't stay cold more than a few seconds. I need a shirt made outta those freezer packs. Mmmmm, cold.
But I think we've been pretty lucky. It's been a mild summer, I suspect. Locals have said it's usually really hot by the Dragon Boat races. And I've noticed that if I want my kids to consistently say it's hot, I have to write 35 C on the board. That's about 95 degrees. 30 C (85) is hot to some but only warm to many. And the Dragon Boat Festival was three weeks ago.
So by now we should be little puddles of Seattlites, as we're unfamiliar with real heat or humidity, but we're doing okay. We don't even have the air running all the time. It's still warm inside, but we can open windows and get a bit of a breeze, which really helps with the humidity. Oh, and there's air conditioning at school, so that's okay.
But I think there's a drought or something like it. I heard from someone a month ago that the reserves are down to 17 percent or so of what they usually are this time of year. If this prevails then there's a rationing that might happen. This means no going out to restaurants. You can get takeout, but they don't have water to do the dishes. But we haven't seen that, either. And it's rained several times since then, so maybe there's less chance of that.
But I think a lack of water is why there's been few bugs. Marie's been bitten several times, but I just haven't seen many. We even got an electro-racket a couple months ago, when we thought we might really need a weapon of mass-mosquito destruction.
It's like a small tennis racket and the handle holds a rechargeable battery. You flick it on and wave it around and when you come in contact with a mosquito-ZAP! Some rackets carry such a charge there isn't even a carcass left. The bug's just vaporized. So I guess it's an active bug zapper. You get to go get the bugs, instead of waiting for them to find the zapper. I saw a woman using one on the street, in front of her restaurant. It was like she was waving a bundle of firecrackers. Snap, crackle, pop. I haven't seen that many bugs in one place yet, but she was certainly frying something.
So we had a good time being tour guides and showing my parents around our newish city. And it was good to do something that wasn't going to school every day.
The really funny thing, my folks left on June 1st, their wedding anniversary, and due to the oddity of the international dateline and the speed of trans-pacific flight, they arrived at midnight on May 31st and had their wedding anniversary over. So we were wondering, does this mean they get to add another candle to the anniversary cake? Just wondering.
The park is marked by this unusual bridge, called the Dajia (Dah-jah) bridge. It's pretty famous because it's such an unusual structure.
This's everybody headed into the park. Someone at work said that the Dragon Boat races mark the beginning of summer and it's really hot there and then. But we didn't think it was that bad. It was warm, maybe even hot, but it wasn't miserable.
The boats start under the unusual bridge and they run in heats of four for about 500 meters, I think. This's one of the boats returning from a run. They have Dragon Boat races in Seattle, but it was pretty neat to see it done by people for whom it's a very long tradition.
The story goes something like: there was a renowned general who advised the emperor of China. But the emperor would 't listen to his advice, so in his shame or frustration the general threw himself into the river and drowned. The people, in an attempt to prevent his body from being eaten, made these special triangles of sticky rice wrapped in seaweed and threw them in the river for the fish to eat instead. Which's why these things are so popular during this holiday. No one seems to know why they race boats.
My personal theory is everyone gathered at the river as part of this holiday-memorial and at some point, unsurprisingly, some guy turned to another guy and uttered the immortal words, "race ya."
And there was also a midway of sorts with lots of food, like a fudge fountain for your marshmallows or squid on a stick (mom liked that, not) and things you could buy. And there were rides for smaller types.
And now, the weather: currently, at 10:30 a.m., it's 91 and the humidity is 60 percent, so it feels like 102. Which is to say, not what I'm used to June feeling like.
I think the best way to visualize it is: with the A/C on, I can take a cold shower, put on a shirt I keep in the freezer, and the shirt will be sticking to me before I get outside. By the time I get to the subway three blocks away, my shirt will probably be sticking to me more than not, certainly by the time I walk another three blocks outta the subway to school. Not to gross anyone out. It's just hot and sticky here.
My current trick is to wear one t-shirt to work and change into something else when I get there. I thought the shirt-in-the-freezer was a good idea, but cotton just won't stay cold more than a few seconds. I need a shirt made outta those freezer packs. Mmmmm, cold.
But I think we've been pretty lucky. It's been a mild summer, I suspect. Locals have said it's usually really hot by the Dragon Boat races. And I've noticed that if I want my kids to consistently say it's hot, I have to write 35 C on the board. That's about 95 degrees. 30 C (85) is hot to some but only warm to many. And the Dragon Boat Festival was three weeks ago.
So by now we should be little puddles of Seattlites, as we're unfamiliar with real heat or humidity, but we're doing okay. We don't even have the air running all the time. It's still warm inside, but we can open windows and get a bit of a breeze, which really helps with the humidity. Oh, and there's air conditioning at school, so that's okay.
But I think there's a drought or something like it. I heard from someone a month ago that the reserves are down to 17 percent or so of what they usually are this time of year. If this prevails then there's a rationing that might happen. This means no going out to restaurants. You can get takeout, but they don't have water to do the dishes. But we haven't seen that, either. And it's rained several times since then, so maybe there's less chance of that.
But I think a lack of water is why there's been few bugs. Marie's been bitten several times, but I just haven't seen many. We even got an electro-racket a couple months ago, when we thought we might really need a weapon of mass-mosquito destruction.
It's like a small tennis racket and the handle holds a rechargeable battery. You flick it on and wave it around and when you come in contact with a mosquito-ZAP! Some rackets carry such a charge there isn't even a carcass left. The bug's just vaporized. So I guess it's an active bug zapper. You get to go get the bugs, instead of waiting for them to find the zapper. I saw a woman using one on the street, in front of her restaurant. It was like she was waving a bundle of firecrackers. Snap, crackle, pop. I haven't seen that many bugs in one place yet, but she was certainly frying something.
So we had a good time being tour guides and showing my parents around our newish city. And it was good to do something that wasn't going to school every day.
The really funny thing, my folks left on June 1st, their wedding anniversary, and due to the oddity of the international dateline and the speed of trans-pacific flight, they arrived at midnight on May 31st and had their wedding anniversary over. So we were wondering, does this mean they get to add another candle to the anniversary cake? Just wondering.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Hot fun
It's no longer really culture shock, I don't think. It's just standard boredom afflicting us.
I've had this same feeling after spending time contracting for Microsoft. Contracts are necessarily simpler jobs; they want you to just plug in and do the work, so I'm usually bored after a month with two to nine months more to work. And this is what that feels like.
Marie has said she's looking forward to a job she's good at. She seems to feel like she isn't cut out for exciting people, basically kids, about English. I think she does fine, but she's worried about the kids' experience, which probably makes her a better teacher. But she's said she's had feelings like she's done with this job.
I'm looking forward to a shower that doesn't start cold and take five minutes to get lukewarm, then warmer and when I turn it down it's cold for a minute, then warmer and warmer, and when I turn it down again, really cold!
I'm looking forward to not hanging all our laundry in a closet and using a dehumidifier to dry it in less than a day or two.
I'm not looking forward to having to get up at 6:30 or 7 a.m. five days a week. I like getting up anywhere from eight to ten six days a week and going to work around three or four.
I am looking forward to having Saturdays off again.
But we did have a Saturday off a couple weeks ago. We went to the beach, and it was good.
Our Saturday off was the result of a holiday several weeks ago. Everyone, including kids, got a Thursday or Friday off, so they had to make it up at their regular school.
Don't ask me why, we still don't have answers on why they have loan holidays not actual holidays. But it meant that our kids were in their regular schools this Saturday, and everyone else was at work, so the beach was almost certainly much less crowded for it.
This's most of the group, current and former teachers from Marie's school: Dorothy in red, then Belle and Melissa. Lying down are Aileen and Fiona. Vera's around somewhere. Dorothy is holding Bom-Bom and Kiki is in Melissa's lap. Not pictured is Belle's chihuahua Chi-Chi.
Marie asked if it sucked going to the beach with a bunch of hot Chinese women... and my wife. The obvious and safe answer was no, but it was also true. Mostly what this reminded me was that I'm old, and I was never cool, and I'm certainly not cool by any kind of Taiwanese standard. There's no badly written English on any of my shirts. Arf.
It was really just great to sit on the sand, in the sun, not at work, not in the city, not yelling at kids, and look at the water. Next stop, Japan.
I thought this was funny. The kid here has a kendo stick, a wooden samuari sword. The bag at his feet has a watermelon in it. He's blindfolded and his friends would guide him to the bag which he would smash the daylights outta and then they'd eat the cracked watermelon. I'm thinking about trying it. Good beach entertainment, and food.
Besides the people, we brought a dog.
Or two. Actually three, but I didn't get Marie with the third.
They were these little toy dogs that rode around in oversized purses, which brought to mind a cartoon that shows a woman rummaging through her bag trying to find something, and her friend asks, "what'd you lose? Wallet, cell phone, car keys?" The woman replies, "dog."
Marie and I both got scorched. We're outta practice for being out in the sun for six hours. We're just peeling now. Oh, and thanks Patti, for the aloe. We nearly used it up after we got back. They must have something like it here, but I haven't seen any.
It was well worth it tho'. We had what felt like a long weekend, even if it was only two days. We played in the South China Sea. The lifeguards wouldn't let us go deeper than about waist high, but they went home at five, so I got a chance to swim out a little in this protected cove.
I think I'm only a bit disappointed we didn't walk around the beach to the far point. Maybe we'll make ourselves go back later in the summer, well after our skin's recovered.
I've had this same feeling after spending time contracting for Microsoft. Contracts are necessarily simpler jobs; they want you to just plug in and do the work, so I'm usually bored after a month with two to nine months more to work. And this is what that feels like.
Marie has said she's looking forward to a job she's good at. She seems to feel like she isn't cut out for exciting people, basically kids, about English. I think she does fine, but she's worried about the kids' experience, which probably makes her a better teacher. But she's said she's had feelings like she's done with this job.
I'm looking forward to a shower that doesn't start cold and take five minutes to get lukewarm, then warmer and when I turn it down it's cold for a minute, then warmer and warmer, and when I turn it down again, really cold!
I'm looking forward to not hanging all our laundry in a closet and using a dehumidifier to dry it in less than a day or two.
I'm not looking forward to having to get up at 6:30 or 7 a.m. five days a week. I like getting up anywhere from eight to ten six days a week and going to work around three or four.
I am looking forward to having Saturdays off again.
But we did have a Saturday off a couple weeks ago. We went to the beach, and it was good.
Our Saturday off was the result of a holiday several weeks ago. Everyone, including kids, got a Thursday or Friday off, so they had to make it up at their regular school.
Don't ask me why, we still don't have answers on why they have loan holidays not actual holidays. But it meant that our kids were in their regular schools this Saturday, and everyone else was at work, so the beach was almost certainly much less crowded for it.
This's most of the group, current and former teachers from Marie's school: Dorothy in red, then Belle and Melissa. Lying down are Aileen and Fiona. Vera's around somewhere. Dorothy is holding Bom-Bom and Kiki is in Melissa's lap. Not pictured is Belle's chihuahua Chi-Chi.
Marie asked if it sucked going to the beach with a bunch of hot Chinese women... and my wife. The obvious and safe answer was no, but it was also true. Mostly what this reminded me was that I'm old, and I was never cool, and I'm certainly not cool by any kind of Taiwanese standard. There's no badly written English on any of my shirts. Arf.
It was really just great to sit on the sand, in the sun, not at work, not in the city, not yelling at kids, and look at the water. Next stop, Japan.
I thought this was funny. The kid here has a kendo stick, a wooden samuari sword. The bag at his feet has a watermelon in it. He's blindfolded and his friends would guide him to the bag which he would smash the daylights outta and then they'd eat the cracked watermelon. I'm thinking about trying it. Good beach entertainment, and food.
Besides the people, we brought a dog.
Or two. Actually three, but I didn't get Marie with the third.
They were these little toy dogs that rode around in oversized purses, which brought to mind a cartoon that shows a woman rummaging through her bag trying to find something, and her friend asks, "what'd you lose? Wallet, cell phone, car keys?" The woman replies, "dog."
Marie and I both got scorched. We're outta practice for being out in the sun for six hours. We're just peeling now. Oh, and thanks Patti, for the aloe. We nearly used it up after we got back. They must have something like it here, but I haven't seen any.
It was well worth it tho'. We had what felt like a long weekend, even if it was only two days. We played in the South China Sea. The lifeguards wouldn't let us go deeper than about waist high, but they went home at five, so I got a chance to swim out a little in this protected cove.
I think I'm only a bit disappointed we didn't walk around the beach to the far point. Maybe we'll make ourselves go back later in the summer, well after our skin's recovered.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Star Trek and other weekend fun
It's been good that we can see most movies here that we could see in the States. We saw the new Star Trek and it was at least as good as billed.
It's really funny to see movies here, tho'. Even tho' they have the translations, the cultural stuff just doesn't cooperate, like all the old lines: "Damnit Jim! I'm a doctor, not a physicist!" and the reversal when McCoy claims to like Spock 'cause he yelled at Kirk, and the classic Scotty line, "I'm giving her all she's got, Captain!" got no reaction. Nothing. Marie and I were giggling like idiots, but not a peep from the rest of the crowd.
A few weeks ago we took a trip to Danshui, up north, to tool around and see some history. Turns out, it was one of our last cool days.
This was breakfast. I just couldn't do it, Marie dug in tho'. I was glad I'd had some cereal. We aren't sure what it was. Noodles and sauce, definitely, but the mushy shell is either tofu or fish paste. I was trying to try it, but after hearing what it even might've been, I was done.
We spent a couple hours wandering along the boardwalk along the river. The Danshui River is a huge artery that used to bring ships into Taiwan. Now it's just a touristy thing, but it's very pretty, even when it's overcast.
And we saw this traditional looking performance, even if he was using a sound system. It was very Chinese, to me. He sounded ethereal, with what sounded like quarter tones and the language I couldn't make heads or tails of if he was speaking. Singing makes it sound like you're in a dream and you're watching a Twin Peaks episode. Weird, is my point.
This was the main destination for the day. These cannons were a part of a historical fort-house that overlooks the Danshui River. I should remember better if the Dutch built it first or who, then the British took it over, and the Chinese too, somewhere in there. Taiwan seems to change hands every couple of months a hundred years ago. But it was neat in a historical sorta way. Probably 'cause it had a colonial feel to it, it was like visiting Williamsburg or Mount Vernon, but with more Chinese descriptions.
We found this shop of kinda curioes, kinda classical, kinda kitschy stuff. Tho' I think there's plenty of stores that sell stuff like this. Some looks tasteful and interesting, some looks like the worst stereotype come to life. But it was interesting and kinda funny 'cause tho' we've seen things similar to this in other places...
we've never seen anything like this. These little guys are Chinese representations of the animals of each lunar year, like it's the year of the ox right now. You can have your birth-year animals heat-sealed to a rock for a hundred NT or so. You can get a bigger rock if you plan to have kids.
Yes, Marie bought one with two tigers on it. Even tho' she was born the year before I was on the solar-Christian calender, we were both born before the lunar new year, so we're both tigers. I have to admit, these things are simple enough, yet culturally specific enough that I want to get them for everyone I know, I just don't wanna pay the cost of shipping rocks.
And last weekend we met up with some acquaintances we met in D.C.
This's Rachel and Werner. Rachel was the one who suggested to Neil, when they were in class together for the State Department, that we should look at traveling to Taiwan when our P.C. plans disintegrated.
When we met them yesterday, they were on their way through to China for her job with State. By now, she's in Chengdu (at least I think she said Chengdu) for two years.
They took us to the National Palace Museum. We'd been once before, but it's so overwhelming, it was good to have people who had an idea of what to see.
This ivory piece is one of the prizes of this massive collection.
I can't really blow it up much. They were a little picky about photos. I was only taking video, no flash, but I think they just don't want you to take your own souvenirs. Go to the giftshop for postcards.
But the ball in the middle of the chain was made from a single piece of ivory and it has at least 17 globes carved one inside the other. Apparently they don't even know for sure how many pieces are in there. Part of the mystery, maybe. They're all free floating and can spin (if they'd let you touch it) in any direction.
And this piece is the prize of the collection. It's a piece of cabbage, carved from jade. I'm not kidding and I spelled it right: cabbage. Food carved out of rock. It's on postcards and posters. I suppose it's not so far from carving dragons and stylized lions from granite or ivory, but I'm still trying to get my head around it being so important, 'cause the Corn Palace is a little closer to being a joke than the center piece of an art collection describing 3,000 years of history behind a fifth of the world's population.
But it's hard not to be impressed by something so old.
But who cares! On with the parade of inflatable animals!
I didn't get a good head-on shot of this caterpillar. Who knew balloons could move so fast. Oh, it's hot here, now. Only about 80-85 but the humidity is over 50 percent. It's officially summer and icky.
Mr. Frog here was much more cooperative. He's part of the Deaflympics ad campaign and was joined by kids in frog suits. Did I mention it's hard to be a kid with a job here, and have your dignity? At least you couldn't see who they were under the masks.
On the up side, my parents are coming in a couple of weeks, so we should have some more photos and touristy stuff to show soon. On the down side, it's uncomfortable now, and it's only gonna get miserable. Tis' the season to be indoors, so we'll probably have less in the way of touristy stuff after that, but maybe I'll work the next few adventures out in installments.
It's really funny to see movies here, tho'. Even tho' they have the translations, the cultural stuff just doesn't cooperate, like all the old lines: "Damnit Jim! I'm a doctor, not a physicist!" and the reversal when McCoy claims to like Spock 'cause he yelled at Kirk, and the classic Scotty line, "I'm giving her all she's got, Captain!" got no reaction. Nothing. Marie and I were giggling like idiots, but not a peep from the rest of the crowd.
A few weeks ago we took a trip to Danshui, up north, to tool around and see some history. Turns out, it was one of our last cool days.
This was breakfast. I just couldn't do it, Marie dug in tho'. I was glad I'd had some cereal. We aren't sure what it was. Noodles and sauce, definitely, but the mushy shell is either tofu or fish paste. I was trying to try it, but after hearing what it even might've been, I was done.
We spent a couple hours wandering along the boardwalk along the river. The Danshui River is a huge artery that used to bring ships into Taiwan. Now it's just a touristy thing, but it's very pretty, even when it's overcast.
And we saw this traditional looking performance, even if he was using a sound system. It was very Chinese, to me. He sounded ethereal, with what sounded like quarter tones and the language I couldn't make heads or tails of if he was speaking. Singing makes it sound like you're in a dream and you're watching a Twin Peaks episode. Weird, is my point.
This was the main destination for the day. These cannons were a part of a historical fort-house that overlooks the Danshui River. I should remember better if the Dutch built it first or who, then the British took it over, and the Chinese too, somewhere in there. Taiwan seems to change hands every couple of months a hundred years ago. But it was neat in a historical sorta way. Probably 'cause it had a colonial feel to it, it was like visiting Williamsburg or Mount Vernon, but with more Chinese descriptions.
We found this shop of kinda curioes, kinda classical, kinda kitschy stuff. Tho' I think there's plenty of stores that sell stuff like this. Some looks tasteful and interesting, some looks like the worst stereotype come to life. But it was interesting and kinda funny 'cause tho' we've seen things similar to this in other places...
we've never seen anything like this. These little guys are Chinese representations of the animals of each lunar year, like it's the year of the ox right now. You can have your birth-year animals heat-sealed to a rock for a hundred NT or so. You can get a bigger rock if you plan to have kids.
Yes, Marie bought one with two tigers on it. Even tho' she was born the year before I was on the solar-Christian calender, we were both born before the lunar new year, so we're both tigers. I have to admit, these things are simple enough, yet culturally specific enough that I want to get them for everyone I know, I just don't wanna pay the cost of shipping rocks.
And last weekend we met up with some acquaintances we met in D.C.
This's Rachel and Werner. Rachel was the one who suggested to Neil, when they were in class together for the State Department, that we should look at traveling to Taiwan when our P.C. plans disintegrated.
When we met them yesterday, they were on their way through to China for her job with State. By now, she's in Chengdu (at least I think she said Chengdu) for two years.
They took us to the National Palace Museum. We'd been once before, but it's so overwhelming, it was good to have people who had an idea of what to see.
This ivory piece is one of the prizes of this massive collection.
I can't really blow it up much. They were a little picky about photos. I was only taking video, no flash, but I think they just don't want you to take your own souvenirs. Go to the giftshop for postcards.
But the ball in the middle of the chain was made from a single piece of ivory and it has at least 17 globes carved one inside the other. Apparently they don't even know for sure how many pieces are in there. Part of the mystery, maybe. They're all free floating and can spin (if they'd let you touch it) in any direction.
And this piece is the prize of the collection. It's a piece of cabbage, carved from jade. I'm not kidding and I spelled it right: cabbage. Food carved out of rock. It's on postcards and posters. I suppose it's not so far from carving dragons and stylized lions from granite or ivory, but I'm still trying to get my head around it being so important, 'cause the Corn Palace is a little closer to being a joke than the center piece of an art collection describing 3,000 years of history behind a fifth of the world's population.
But it's hard not to be impressed by something so old.
But who cares! On with the parade of inflatable animals!
I didn't get a good head-on shot of this caterpillar. Who knew balloons could move so fast. Oh, it's hot here, now. Only about 80-85 but the humidity is over 50 percent. It's officially summer and icky.
Mr. Frog here was much more cooperative. He's part of the Deaflympics ad campaign and was joined by kids in frog suits. Did I mention it's hard to be a kid with a job here, and have your dignity? At least you couldn't see who they were under the masks.
On the up side, my parents are coming in a couple of weeks, so we should have some more photos and touristy stuff to show soon. On the down side, it's uncomfortable now, and it's only gonna get miserable. Tis' the season to be indoors, so we'll probably have less in the way of touristy stuff after that, but maybe I'll work the next few adventures out in installments.
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