I’ve got a lot of holiday time coming up. I have three trips to prepare for: Hong Kong, Manila, and Canada. Even though I got some deals on my airfare, my time off will inevitably cost a sizable chunk of dough. I’m trying to save as much as possible, so several pages of my neurosis-notebook are filled with currency conversions, cost estimates, and budgets. Looking at such a page from a few months, or even weeks, ago is a shocking experience.
1 month ago: $30,000 NT = $969 CAD
Today: $30,000 NT = $1,135 CAD
2 months ago: $100 HK = $13 CAD
2 weeks ago: $100 HK = $15 CAD
Today: $100 HK = $16 CAD
If I had any money to send home, I would be very happy right now. I would have $166 CAD for free. Unfortunately I spent my last paycheck on airline tickets, which are costing more and more in Canadian dollars every day. Everything costs more than previously thought. Three days in Hong Kong is getting particularly pricey. My $39 CAD hotel will now cost $48! Perhaps this doesn’t sound like a lot, but when you’re the type of person who flies to Hong Kong and stays in the nation’s cheapest hotel, it’s a big difference.
National Snapshot
Taiwan makes its money in the service sector, and with its dazzling array of electronics. There are about a dozen Taiwanese computer companies (the only one I’ve seen in Canada is Acer) and a dozen more accessory and parts companies. So if people around the world can’t afford computers, Taiwan is in trouble. This happened in late 2001, and Taiwan was in a recession for about a year.
The current global recession is increasing the unemployment rate. In August, the unemployment rate was 4.14 per cent. In September, the rate was 4.27 per cent, or about an additional 12,000 unemployed people. The first nine months of the year averaged 3.96 per cent.
A lot of people blame President Ma. There was a protest held in Taipei yesterday, and over 500,000 people attended. Half a million. The last time this happened was… well, about two months ago with a protest of about 300,000. I’ve learned that Taiwanese people are one with the streets. Constant parades, protests, and overall lack of rules make the streets like the yard they never had. Anyways, these protests both called for President Ma to step down. The protesters are frustrated that Taiwan was bowing to China without any economic gain. They want an independent Taiwan with an independent economy, and they want to be protected from China’s dangerous products. Or something.
During campaigning in the spring, Ma promised to “make our society immediately better.” Well, people believed him. If Ma doesn’t stop giving privilege to China, a member of the opposing party has a fresh idea: “If the government continues to refuse to listen to the anger of the people, we will take to the streets again and show them the consequences of not listening to our voices,” she said.
Sources: http://www.etaiwannews.com/etn/news_content.php?id=772274
http://www.etaiwannews.com/etn/news_content.php?id=772526
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Mystery Puddles Finally Understood
Two weeks ago, Typhoon Sinlaku came to Taiwan for an extended visit. This was a big deal for people in parts of south and central Taiwan. The last I read, 11 people were killed. A tunnel collapsed on occupied vehicles, a bridge collapsed causing cars to plunge into the fast-flowing river, and flood waters caused a seven-storey hotel to fall on its side. The BBC posted some terrifying videos online here and here.
Typhoons are indeed very dramatic events – unless you live in a big city. For those of us around Taipei, we had to deal with heavy rain and wind only strong enough to foil umbrella usage. The power and water stayed on, and 7-Eleven stayed open. All in all, the typhoon experience was extremely boring. Schools and offices were closed, which would have at least meant a day off for me, but it was the weekend. Public transit was suspended, so there was no way to get anywhere even if I didn’t mind getting soaked. I stayed inside from Friday night to Monday morning. I watched a lot of CNN reporters worrying about a storm in Texas (they didn’t cover Sinlaku until it was downgraded to a tropical storm and headed for Japan), and I watched the movie channels even after they were on repeats. I ate constantly, and obsessively checked the lame posts on an online forum for ex-pats.
It was a very lackluster weekend and not worth talking about, let alone writing about. But during the typhoon, I found mysterious puddles on my floor. There was nothing coming from the ceiling, and nothing coming from the windows. My air conditioner wasn’t dripping, and my fridge was working fine. The water wasn’t coming from any source. It was just in a puddle on a random spot on the floor. This evening, I came home to a big puddle again. After 30 seconds of detective work, I came up with a satisfactory explanation; the puddles are coming out of thin air.
The humidity as of 8 p.m. was 89 per cent. The daytime humidity was likely in the low 90s, and it would have been even more extreme during the typhoon. The puddles wouldn’t be mysterious to most people in the world, but humidity has never been a talking point of mine. So, in the spirit of personal growth, here are some fun *wince* conversation starters about humidity:
- About 0.001 per cent of the Earth’s water is in the air as vapor, clouds, or precipitation at any given time.
- Water vapor is a greenhouse gas, and therefore increases temperature as well as increases with temperature.
- Humidity with heat can kill you. Humidity can trap the sweat on your body so no heat can escape.
- The most humid places in the world are usually close to the equator and near a coast. They include many cities in South and Southeast Asia like Kolkata, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur, and Singapore.
(sources: http://www.usatoday.com/weather/whumdef.htm and Wikipedia for list of humid cities)
Typhoons are indeed very dramatic events – unless you live in a big city. For those of us around Taipei, we had to deal with heavy rain and wind only strong enough to foil umbrella usage. The power and water stayed on, and 7-Eleven stayed open. All in all, the typhoon experience was extremely boring. Schools and offices were closed, which would have at least meant a day off for me, but it was the weekend. Public transit was suspended, so there was no way to get anywhere even if I didn’t mind getting soaked. I stayed inside from Friday night to Monday morning. I watched a lot of CNN reporters worrying about a storm in Texas (they didn’t cover Sinlaku until it was downgraded to a tropical storm and headed for Japan), and I watched the movie channels even after they were on repeats. I ate constantly, and obsessively checked the lame posts on an online forum for ex-pats.
It was a very lackluster weekend and not worth talking about, let alone writing about. But during the typhoon, I found mysterious puddles on my floor. There was nothing coming from the ceiling, and nothing coming from the windows. My air conditioner wasn’t dripping, and my fridge was working fine. The water wasn’t coming from any source. It was just in a puddle on a random spot on the floor. This evening, I came home to a big puddle again. After 30 seconds of detective work, I came up with a satisfactory explanation; the puddles are coming out of thin air.
The humidity as of 8 p.m. was 89 per cent. The daytime humidity was likely in the low 90s, and it would have been even more extreme during the typhoon. The puddles wouldn’t be mysterious to most people in the world, but humidity has never been a talking point of mine. So, in the spirit of personal growth, here are some fun *wince* conversation starters about humidity:
- About 0.001 per cent of the Earth’s water is in the air as vapor, clouds, or precipitation at any given time.
- Water vapor is a greenhouse gas, and therefore increases temperature as well as increases with temperature.
- Humidity with heat can kill you. Humidity can trap the sweat on your body so no heat can escape.
- The most humid places in the world are usually close to the equator and near a coast. They include many cities in South and Southeast Asia like Kolkata, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur, and Singapore.
(sources: http://www.usatoday.com/weather/whumdef.htm and Wikipedia for list of humid cities)
Monday, September 15, 2008
Moon Festival
Taiwanese people celebrate a multitude of fascinating Chinese holidays. I have been here for Chinese New Year, Tomb Sweeping Day, Chinese Valentines Day, Ghost Month, birthdays of various gods, and now Moon Festival. These holidays follow the lunar calendar, which nobody can explain to me. I don’t think anyone knows how to calculate when the holiday is coming; word just gets out somehow. Moon Festival is on the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, or Sept. 14 this year. The parties start a week in advance, and may go on afterwards if the weather doesn’t cooperate in time.
Moon Festival is celebrated by eating a lot of barbecue, as well as moon cakes and pomelos. The actual grill is not like a western barbecue at all. I went to a Moon Fest barbecue for work the other weekend, and learned how it is done. First, you get some big charcoal sticks and bash them up with a hammer or any other tool. Then you put all the charcoal bits into a little metal pan with legs. This is the barbecue. It sits on the ground with a little fire built inside, and you cook on top of a wire grill. This device is less than a foot tall. It’s not very macho, but it sure seems portable – and I enjoy that in a food preparation method.
Moon cakes are also involved in traditional celebrations. There are many styles of moon cakes, and I’m not sure which is the real deal. My employer gave me a box and told me that it must be kept frozen. Inside were four “cakes” made of a fluffy type of ice cream on top of a thin layer of cake, all wrapped up in sheets of rice dough. Each of the four cakes had a different surprise inside. One had cherries, one had orange, and one had sweet potato. I haven’t eaten the fourth yet.
Then, another day at work, I was told to try a moon cake. They told me to hurry because it was still hot. Hot is good in this style of moon cake I guess. It was a small flaky ball covered with poppy seeds, or lotus seeds. Inside was black seed paste. Then, there was a surprise in the middle – a super hard egg yolk. I pretended to eat the flaky pastry over the garbage bin to avoid a mess, but I really had to chuck that yolk.
Moon cakes also have some historical significance. It is said that during the 14th Century, Ming revolutionaries otherthrew the Mongolian rulers inChina
Moon Festival is celebrated by eating a lot of barbecue, as well as moon cakes and pomelos. The actual grill is not like a western barbecue at all. I went to a Moon Fest barbecue for work the other weekend, and learned how it is done. First, you get some big charcoal sticks and bash them up with a hammer or any other tool. Then you put all the charcoal bits into a little metal pan with legs. This is the barbecue. It sits on the ground with a little fire built inside, and you cook on top of a wire grill. This device is less than a foot tall. It’s not very macho, but it sure seems portable – and I enjoy that in a food preparation method.
Moon cakes are also involved in traditional celebrations. There are many styles of moon cakes, and I’m not sure which is the real deal. My employer gave me a box and told me that it must be kept frozen. Inside were four “cakes” made of a fluffy type of ice cream on top of a thin layer of cake, all wrapped up in sheets of rice dough. Each of the four cakes had a different surprise inside. One had cherries, one had orange, and one had sweet potato. I haven’t eaten the fourth yet.
Then, another day at work, I was told to try a moon cake. They told me to hurry because it was still hot. Hot is good in this style of moon cake I guess. It was a small flaky ball covered with poppy seeds, or lotus seeds. Inside was black seed paste. Then, there was a surprise in the middle – a super hard egg yolk. I pretended to eat the flaky pastry over the garbage bin to avoid a mess, but I really had to chuck that yolk.
Moon cakes also have some historical significance. It is said that during the 14th Century, Ming revolutionaries otherthrew the Mongolian rulers in
The last must-eat Moon Fest food is pomelo. I had to teach this word to students, yet I hade never seen one before. Anyways, it’s a big pear-shaped fruit with a thick green skin that you peel off like an orange. The fruit inside is round and clear, but in big slices like a grapefruit. It’s not very tasty and a little bitter, but you can cut the green skin into a pomelo hat. Pomelo hats are beloved around here, but it just looks like you went digging in the trash and got fruit scraps on your head.
The moon is at its biggest and fullest during Moon Festival, so you are supposed to look at the moon. But there is a lot of light pollution in and around the cities, plus lots of clouds and smog, and there was a typhoon this year. So I think moon gazing is optional.
During the work barbecue, I asked my boss Molly to tell me the story of Moon Festival. Here’s how it went:
“A long time ago there was an emperor. He was not a good king, but he had a beautiful wife named Chang’e. He wanted to live forever, but he was not a good king to the people. So his wife took the medicine and went to the moon. She will live on the moon forever. There is also something about 10 burning suns, but I don’t remember.”
I did a little browsing online to crack the case, and found out that nobody agrees on the exact story. It’s not even agreed whether the emperor was good or bad. But I will provide another butchered version of the story to complement Molly’s.
“Ahem. Gather around children. Gather, I said. Gather means come here! A long time ago there was a man named Houyi. He was a very good archer. In fact, he was the emperor’s best archer. This was so long ago that the earth had 10 suns. One day, the suns all circled together and the earth started to burn. The emperor sent Houyi to shoot down all but one sun. Houyi was a hero and became emperor. Everyone doted on him so much that he became very self-superior, and wanted to live forever. His advisors found a way for him to live forever; it was a pill made out of 100 dead schoolboys. Each night for 100 nights he ground up a schoolboy for his pill. Houyi’s beautiful wife Chang’e couldn’t let her tyrannical husband rule the world forever, so she stole the pill. She took the pill and floated to the moon. She is still there today with the jade rabbit. Chang’e and the jade rabbit pound medicines for the gods. So… don’t do drugs kids.”
Happy Moon Festival! I will post some pictures and hopefully some video soon.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Always Open
There is an elephant in the room. I’ve danced around this issue many times, but now it’s time to confront it head on. Convenience stores run this country. Hardly an exaggeration. In fact, a Government of Canada website states that
Almost any problem can be solved with a trip to the convenience store. They sell junk food and drinks like a regular store, but they also have frozen meals, hot food on a stick, cold noodle salads, fruit, coffee, baked goods, and booze. Some stores even have spaces to sit down and eat. Then there’s the REAL convenience – the ability to pay your bills. I go to a convenience store to pay every bill. I pay my rent through the ATM, and I take all my other bills to the clerk who simply scans them and tells me the total. I have a pay-as-you-go phone, so I pick up my phone cards there too. Most stores have a photocopier/scanner, and some FamilyMarts have a machine for buying tickets to events. Really. And you can do all of this 24-hours a day every day. Even on typhoon days.
Seven-Eleven and FamilyMart are the most popular, and the quirkiest, convenience stores. Sev has a cartoon mascot. It’s a little beige dog with the 7-Eleven colours in a rainbow on its head. Most locations will sell merchandise with this dog on it, whether it be a facecloth, notepad, eraser, T-shirt, or watch. Some of the merchandise helps you find out this dog’s back story, and who his friends are. FamilyMart’s quirk is that every time the door opens, a lengthy electronic chime is played. By lengthy I mean that it’s longer than three seconds. I guess it’s supposed to make you feel special by having a song played just for your arrival, but I don’t know how the employees endure it.
For a while, I was not excited about the convenience stores. Shopping in a 7-Eleven made me feel like such a xenophobic foreigner. But I now realize that it really is a part of the local culture, and not just a system set up to baby foreigners. I thought the local stores were imitations of American convenience stores, but they are really something else. Something custom designed for life in
Monday, July 14, 2008
The Cruelty of Cuteness
Generally speaking, Taiwanese people love cute things. They obsess over cute things. In fact, the very first thing I saw after I landed in this country was a Hello Kitty jumbo jet. Really. Cutesy pie cartoons are everywhere. People of all ages wear cartoons on their clothing, and I can’t seem to find a wallet without a bastardized version of Mickey Mouse on it. I even see clothing with cute literally written all over it. But for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The love of cuteness can be very sinister.
People here love to carry tiny dogs around with them. The main reason is that the dogs are cute, but another reason is that small dogs just work better in apartments. So when a dog is no longer cute, and no longer small, it’s time for it to move out.
Any visitor to
The dogs survive off of the goodwill of restaurant owners who leave leftovers on the street. But when it comes to medical attention, it seems like nobody can help. A few months ago, I saw a very skinny dog with a shriveled-up front paw hopping across the street. It was such a sad sight, and I wondered how long he had to live. I just saw the same dog again today, but there is nothing I can do to help.
Every time it storms, or there is talk of a typhoon coming, I think about the poor dogs that are hungry, scared and cold just because they grew up.
I should mention that many individuals do adopt or care for strays. There are even small-scale rescue facilities, but only a small percentage of strays ever get help.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Commercial Appeal
I can’t read. And I can’t speak or understand more than a dozen words. But I can appreciate TV commercials.
Many of the commercials have the same kind of zany humour as North American commercials. It’s fun to figure out the jokes and all, but my favourite ads are the low-budget locally made ones where the company owner appears in the flesh. I can’t get enough of the nervously sung songs, the thumbs up, and the phone number recitals. It helps me learn numbers anyway.
Many of the commercials have the same kind of zany humour as North American commercials. It’s fun to figure out the jokes and all, but my favourite ads are the low-budget locally made ones where the company owner appears in the flesh. I can’t get enough of the nervously sung songs, the thumbs up, and the phone number recitals. It helps me learn numbers anyway.
Some of my least favourite ads are the Orlando Bloom car ads, for Toyota Corolla. Yes, he made more than one. In one ad,
Alcohol commercials in
On another channel, I’m starting to notice a possible archetype in commercials for sweets. She’s the adorable big lady. She’s a well made-up overweight woman who giggles and enjoys her sweets. One has geisha makeup, and she’s in a spa. She locks everyone out so she can eat her candy alone inside. Believe me, her giggle is nothing less than delightful. Now there is another big lady selling ice-cream bars. She looks kind of like a mermaid and has a catchy siren song about the product. Both ads are just strange, but the fact that an overweight person is on TV is what makes you think. Fat people barely make it into weight-loss ads in North America, but they can sell junk food in
Finally, I need to mention air conditioners. They are big business here. Air conditioner commercials range from bland product shots with phone numbers to high-budget, 20-second, mini romantic-comedies. I had never even considered that commercials for air conditioners existed before I moved to
*Shino Lin did not ever endorse Bacardi
Saturday, May 17, 2008
The Students
I expected Taiwanese kids to be very well behaved, and to follow very strict manners. They don’t. They scream and argue, jump out of their seats to kick other students, and constantly interrupt me to ask for bathroom breaks. Sometimes they put their jackets on their heads, sometimes they pretend to sleep, and sometimes they do rank things like make spit bubbles. If there’s a mosquito or a fly in the room, it will be a few minutes until the lesson can continue. My “after class” students are seemingly normal Grade 1 and 2 students, so I sometimes have to remind myself that they have more stress and pressure in their lives than I do.
The day of an elementary-school student typically starts at 7:30 a.m. Classes start at 7:40 a.m. They wear uniforms and clean their own classrooms. Grade 1 and 2 students will finish at lunch time, and Grade 3-6 students won’t finish until 4 p.m. After school, most will go to a cram school. Many students go to more than one cram school. They may go to English classes and math classes on top of other activities like violin lessons or karate practice. Some have different backpacks filled with books for each school they attend. They don’t get to play very often, so they actually really love the spelling and writing games we play in class. They will seriously jump up and down and cheer while their teammate tries to spell “cereal” the quickest.
Punishment
At my school, we have a reward system based on cards. If you collect enough cards, than you can trade them for gifts like pencil cases and stickers. If a student is bad, we take some cards away. We can also yell (my coworkers sometimes yell in Chinese until they cry), assign more homework and talk to the parents. Parents will punish kids based on their performance at school. Some non-issues in North American classrooms are big deals in
Exams
After Grade 6 comes junior high, which is basically three years of preparation for the national senior high school entrance exams. Students are assigned to senior high schools based on their test scores, not on the location of their homes. It's important to get into a good senior high. Then, at the end of senior high comes the national entrance exam for universities. Almost 67 per cent of those who write the exam go on to a post-secondary institution. Entrance into the best schools is obviously very competitive, especially for the most popular programs. Engineering degrees account for over 25 per cent of the bachelor degrees awarded in
Kids Say the Darndest Things
Sometimes, my students aren’t bad, and actually make me laugh.
- The other day, I started class and had begun reviewing some vocabulary. Nick interrupts me saying, “Teacher Amy! Teacher Amy!” This always happens. It’s usually about how someone else is doing something wrong. “What?” I said back. Nick had a very concerned expression on his face. He said, “Teacher Amy, I have a hamburger and some juice.” Yes, he looked very worried indeed.
- On my birthday, my co-teachers got together and made my after class students sing happy birthday to me. One student named Amy gave me a striped pencil with a pony eraser and said “Happy Birthday.” The next day, some students tried to say “Happy Birthday” again, but I told them it’s over. But Amy really likes me, so she gave me some crackers and a small chocolate ball and said “Happy Mother’s Day.”
- A few of my Grade 1 students have taken to saying “baby.” I will ask them something with flashcards like “What is it?” And they will say, “It is an eraser, baby!”
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Election Day Photos
Soundtrack included! First shots are outside the presidential palace. A KMT rally was held nearby.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Economic Depression
Did you know that
People are desperate for an economic upgrade, which is why Taiwanese people vote for the KMT. My coworker Shauna said she is voting for the KMT after voting for the DPP in the last two elections. She says people want more economic ties with
Shauna is voting for the KMT because of the economy. She thought the DPP could bolster it, and even voted for them again so they could have four more years to get their policies working. But the news of suicides is really bringing her down. She said some people will even kill their children when they kill themselves.
Morbid Details
The two most common methods of suicide in
But some people never make it off the building. In June 2005, a woman was found dead on top of
I’m not sure how the status quo will be affected tomorrow. Both parties want more economic ties with
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Taiwan Does Democracy
The American election campaigns are out of control. One candidate says another is less qualified, and then the other candidate claims to have better judgment. Meanwhile, a third candidate alleges to be even better than the other two! This style of “negative campaigning” is ice cream compared to the shit being thrown in Taiwan, let me tell you.
Taiwan will have its fourth ever democratic elections on Saturday. The first election in 1996 featured Chinese missile tests in the Taiwan Strait, and the last election in 2004 was so negative that the current president and vice president were shot while campaigning the day before the vote.
The tension comes from some major party differences. The two main parties are the DPP (Democratic Progressive Party) and the KMT (Kuomintang). The DPP is currently in power, and has been pushing for Taiwan’s entry into the UN for years. Then there’s the KMT, which is a Chinese nationalist party that previously ruled Taiwan under martial law. The KMT agrees that Taiwan should join the UN, but under the name Republic of China. Some people think China won’t attack Taiwan if Taiwan elects the semi-loyal KMT, but most people think China won’t act anyway, unless Taiwan declares independence, or gets into the UN. By the way, coinciding with the election this year are two UN referendums on Taiwan’s request for membership – one as Taiwan, and one as Republic of China.
Just like in the United States, slanderous remarks may lead to resignations. A couple days ago, a DPP member resigned over his criticism of the KMT’s candidate’s father. The man admitted that his public criticism turned into a personal attack when he insinuated that Ma Ying-jeou’s father slept with prostitutes and even “screwed” his adopted daughter. He never said his statement was false, but he did resign.
The candidates have also called daughters drug addicts, and wives whores. No, Taiwanese politicians are not known for holding back punches (see Rick Mercer’s Best Taiwanese Parliament Fights of All Time for this reference).
The DPP’s presidential candidate, Frank Hsieh, is putting his candidacy on the line over his attacks on Ma. Only five days before the election, Hsieh said he would drop out of the presidential race if his rival could prove that he does not hold permanent residency in the United States. Ma admits he held permanent residency, but claims he gave it up in the early ‘90s, and never applied for a green card. The strangest thing is that instead of proving Hsieh wrong, and forcing him to resign as party leader, Ma is suing the DPP. The issue may not be resolved by election time, which is too bad. It’s kind of important to know if a man who wants closer ties with China can hide in the States if the shit hits the fan.
But this election is not all about drama and barroom style brawls. There are also overly corny moments. Candidates from all sides pose with big smiles, giving the thumbs up on their posters. I have also seen the old back-to-back pose, and the bent-arm handshake pose. These cheesy pictures are on buses, on buildings, and on flags that line the streets. Did I mention that they are often dressed “casually” in the pictures, maybe even in track suits? It gets lamer. On Sunday, the DPP organized a 1 million person high five to celebrate a supposed comeback. Rallies were held nationwide, and hundreds of thousands of people showed up wearing sideways baseball caps, ready to party. At the right moment, they all high fived each other. Oh god, my eyes can’t stop rolling!
As an outsider who has no idea what Taiwan really needs, I prefer the DPP. President Chen Shui-bian, and vice president Annette Lu, have histories of defending human rights in Taiwan. It was only 21 years ago that the KMT were plundering the island under martial law, so I just can’t like the KMT. However, the KMT will likely win, as they swept the legislative elections in January. Either way, Saturday is sure to be a gong show. I don’t know whether to take photos, or hide in a bomb shelter.
Taiwan will have its fourth ever democratic elections on Saturday. The first election in 1996 featured Chinese missile tests in the Taiwan Strait, and the last election in 2004 was so negative that the current president and vice president were shot while campaigning the day before the vote.
The tension comes from some major party differences. The two main parties are the DPP (Democratic Progressive Party) and the KMT (Kuomintang). The DPP is currently in power, and has been pushing for Taiwan’s entry into the UN for years. Then there’s the KMT, which is a Chinese nationalist party that previously ruled Taiwan under martial law. The KMT agrees that Taiwan should join the UN, but under the name Republic of China. Some people think China won’t attack Taiwan if Taiwan elects the semi-loyal KMT, but most people think China won’t act anyway, unless Taiwan declares independence, or gets into the UN. By the way, coinciding with the election this year are two UN referendums on Taiwan’s request for membership – one as Taiwan, and one as Republic of China.
Just like in the United States, slanderous remarks may lead to resignations. A couple days ago, a DPP member resigned over his criticism of the KMT’s candidate’s father. The man admitted that his public criticism turned into a personal attack when he insinuated that Ma Ying-jeou’s father slept with prostitutes and even “screwed” his adopted daughter. He never said his statement was false, but he did resign.
The candidates have also called daughters drug addicts, and wives whores. No, Taiwanese politicians are not known for holding back punches (see Rick Mercer’s Best Taiwanese Parliament Fights of All Time for this reference).
The DPP’s presidential candidate, Frank Hsieh, is putting his candidacy on the line over his attacks on Ma. Only five days before the election, Hsieh said he would drop out of the presidential race if his rival could prove that he does not hold permanent residency in the United States. Ma admits he held permanent residency, but claims he gave it up in the early ‘90s, and never applied for a green card. The strangest thing is that instead of proving Hsieh wrong, and forcing him to resign as party leader, Ma is suing the DPP. The issue may not be resolved by election time, which is too bad. It’s kind of important to know if a man who wants closer ties with China can hide in the States if the shit hits the fan.
But this election is not all about drama and barroom style brawls. There are also overly corny moments. Candidates from all sides pose with big smiles, giving the thumbs up on their posters. I have also seen the old back-to-back pose, and the bent-arm handshake pose. These cheesy pictures are on buses, on buildings, and on flags that line the streets. Did I mention that they are often dressed “casually” in the pictures, maybe even in track suits? It gets lamer. On Sunday, the DPP organized a 1 million person high five to celebrate a supposed comeback. Rallies were held nationwide, and hundreds of thousands of people showed up wearing sideways baseball caps, ready to party. At the right moment, they all high fived each other. Oh god, my eyes can’t stop rolling!
As an outsider who has no idea what Taiwan really needs, I prefer the DPP. President Chen Shui-bian, and vice president Annette Lu, have histories of defending human rights in Taiwan. It was only 21 years ago that the KMT were plundering the island under martial law, so I just can’t like the KMT. However, the KMT will likely win, as they swept the legislative elections in January. Either way, Saturday is sure to be a gong show. I don’t know whether to take photos, or hide in a bomb shelter.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Another Wacky Day
This morning I woke up earlier than was usual for a Tuesday. The reasons were twofold: I had to go to work early for “office makeovers,” and I had to go to the bank. Would you like to know which event yielded a sexy result? Then settle in for a bizarre and convoluted tale.
It all began when I went to the bank to transfer $50,000 into my overseas account. It was my first time transferring money back to Canada, so I was a bit confused about the form I had to fill out. The clerk didn’t speak much English, so she called a man from upstairs to come down and translate for us. It was the same guy who helped me when I lost my bank card the first and second time. He seemed to remember me somehow. Anyway, he translated, and told me how much the transfer fees are, the currency rate, and the final amount in Canadian dollars, which, as it turns out, is nothing near 50 Gs.
He made small talk with me while the clerk was using her computer. He asked me if I would want to tutor some employees’ kids sometime. Doing private lessons is good money, so I said I could do it in my spare time. He took my phone number, and he made sure I had his cell. Then he said I could call if I need help at the bank, or if I want to party. I said “Party? Can you do that in Sinjhuang?” He misheard me and said, “Do I dance when I get drunk? Not really.” I thought this was very strange thing to hear from a professional looking bank employee. It’s not everyday you hear the word “drunk” during a legitimate business transaction.
After I left, I wondered if he was using the opportunity to speak English as an opportunity to hit on a client without his coworkers’ knowledge. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. The point is, I am awesome, and I wasn’t even wearing any makeup. I was saving my face for makeover day.
Makeover day was the brainchild of one of my school’s managers. She thinks our school would have an edge, and seem more professional, if the female staff all wore makeup “like a lawyer.” So, the school hired a lady from Shiseido cosmetics to do a training session. When my male supervisor first told me about the event, I found it very strange, and mildly offensive. Later, I realized that there might be free stuff, and hilarious photo opportunities, so I decided to hope for the best. I was actually getting curious about what my Taiwanese makeover would look like.
The cosmetics lady spoke in Chinese and waved a bunch of lotions and things around for two hours. My co-worker Shauna said she would translate for me, and even switched seats to do it, but she was too excited about all the products to tell me anything. At the end of the demonstration (15 minutes before it was time to don the bright red T-shirt and start making poop jokes, like lawyers), we could have free-range on all the sample goods. Everyone piled to the front of the classroom (yes, we were sitting in desks), and started trying all the stuff. Even if I knew what anything was, there’s no way I would go through the dogpile to get it. So, makeover day was a big waste of time, and I left without makeup. Just like my trip to the science museum, I expected something slightly amusing, and was shut out.
It all began when I went to the bank to transfer $50,000 into my overseas account. It was my first time transferring money back to Canada, so I was a bit confused about the form I had to fill out. The clerk didn’t speak much English, so she called a man from upstairs to come down and translate for us. It was the same guy who helped me when I lost my bank card the first and second time. He seemed to remember me somehow. Anyway, he translated, and told me how much the transfer fees are, the currency rate, and the final amount in Canadian dollars, which, as it turns out, is nothing near 50 Gs.
He made small talk with me while the clerk was using her computer. He asked me if I would want to tutor some employees’ kids sometime. Doing private lessons is good money, so I said I could do it in my spare time. He took my phone number, and he made sure I had his cell. Then he said I could call if I need help at the bank, or if I want to party. I said “Party? Can you do that in Sinjhuang?” He misheard me and said, “Do I dance when I get drunk? Not really.” I thought this was very strange thing to hear from a professional looking bank employee. It’s not everyday you hear the word “drunk” during a legitimate business transaction.
After I left, I wondered if he was using the opportunity to speak English as an opportunity to hit on a client without his coworkers’ knowledge. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. The point is, I am awesome, and I wasn’t even wearing any makeup. I was saving my face for makeover day.
Makeover day was the brainchild of one of my school’s managers. She thinks our school would have an edge, and seem more professional, if the female staff all wore makeup “like a lawyer.” So, the school hired a lady from Shiseido cosmetics to do a training session. When my male supervisor first told me about the event, I found it very strange, and mildly offensive. Later, I realized that there might be free stuff, and hilarious photo opportunities, so I decided to hope for the best. I was actually getting curious about what my Taiwanese makeover would look like.
The cosmetics lady spoke in Chinese and waved a bunch of lotions and things around for two hours. My co-worker Shauna said she would translate for me, and even switched seats to do it, but she was too excited about all the products to tell me anything. At the end of the demonstration (15 minutes before it was time to don the bright red T-shirt and start making poop jokes, like lawyers), we could have free-range on all the sample goods. Everyone piled to the front of the classroom (yes, we were sitting in desks), and started trying all the stuff. Even if I knew what anything was, there’s no way I would go through the dogpile to get it. So, makeover day was a big waste of time, and I left without makeup. Just like my trip to the science museum, I expected something slightly amusing, and was shut out.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Goin' Nutz
Walking around the streets of Sinjhuang, it’s hard not to notice the red stains splattered on the pavement, and, looking up, the families of four riding on a single scooter with only two helmets are also rather conspicuous. But this is an unnecessarily morbid connection to make – the red stains are from betel nut. Relax.
Betel nut is a green juicy seed that people in many Asian countries chew, and subsequently get buzzed off of. In Taiwan, the seed is wrapped in a green leaf. You chew it all together, and spit out the blood-red juices that form. Then, after 15 minutes or so, you spit out your cud – a wad of fibers that looks like soggy coconut husk.
I have seen people at Buddhist parades chewing betel nut looking like they were in a trance, with crazed eyes and red juice dripping down their chin. I have also been on a bus where the driver was chewing it, singing to himself, and driving too fast. But the effect of betel nut is actually very mild, like a tiny cup of coffee or a cigarette.
The most obvious place to buy betel nut is from a betel nut girl. Betel nut girls sit in small glass rooms with a street front view. They wear tiny skirts, fishnets, high heels and silky tank tops. Cigarettes are on display, but they mostly sell betel nut. Apparently some clerks are not the clean cut businesswomen they appear to be, and sometimes sell certain favours too.
When my friend Narcoux came to visit me during Chinese New Year, we thought it would be darn nifty to try the stuff. We bought a bag of about eight nuts for around NT $50 from a little family-run cart at a night market. The (unsexy) woman gave us a cup with a paper towel in the bottom for us to spit in. She also got herself a betel nut to show us how to bite the end off first. Narcoux and I decided we didn’t want to be seen in public trying it, so we waited until we were home.
Wikipedia says betel nut has a “fresh, peppery taste.” I don’t disagree entirely, but it makes it sound like it tastes pleasant. Narcoux pronounced with disgust that, “It tastes like hot dogs.” I won’t disagree entirely with that either.
Our faces started to get hot and red right away, but in a good way. It’s supposed to make you feel mild euphoria, and have heightened alertness and be better able to work, but after chewing just one at nighttime, we didn’t feel very awake. In fact, my jaw was really tired from chewing the fibrous wad. It wasn’t the instant party we thought it could be, so we didn’t chew any more.
Betel nut is natural, but it’s not exactly a harmless stimulant. According to Wikipedia, it causes cancer (oral especially), gum deterioration, and is habit forming. It claimed that regular betel nut chewers in Taiwan are 28 times more likely to get oral cancer than non-chewers. So before you “do the chew,” think what it will do to you.
Betel nut is a green juicy seed that people in many Asian countries chew, and subsequently get buzzed off of. In Taiwan, the seed is wrapped in a green leaf. You chew it all together, and spit out the blood-red juices that form. Then, after 15 minutes or so, you spit out your cud – a wad of fibers that looks like soggy coconut husk.
I have seen people at Buddhist parades chewing betel nut looking like they were in a trance, with crazed eyes and red juice dripping down their chin. I have also been on a bus where the driver was chewing it, singing to himself, and driving too fast. But the effect of betel nut is actually very mild, like a tiny cup of coffee or a cigarette.
The most obvious place to buy betel nut is from a betel nut girl. Betel nut girls sit in small glass rooms with a street front view. They wear tiny skirts, fishnets, high heels and silky tank tops. Cigarettes are on display, but they mostly sell betel nut. Apparently some clerks are not the clean cut businesswomen they appear to be, and sometimes sell certain favours too.
When my friend Narcoux came to visit me during Chinese New Year, we thought it would be darn nifty to try the stuff. We bought a bag of about eight nuts for around NT $50 from a little family-run cart at a night market. The (unsexy) woman gave us a cup with a paper towel in the bottom for us to spit in. She also got herself a betel nut to show us how to bite the end off first. Narcoux and I decided we didn’t want to be seen in public trying it, so we waited until we were home.
Wikipedia says betel nut has a “fresh, peppery taste.” I don’t disagree entirely, but it makes it sound like it tastes pleasant. Narcoux pronounced with disgust that, “It tastes like hot dogs.” I won’t disagree entirely with that either.
Our faces started to get hot and red right away, but in a good way. It’s supposed to make you feel mild euphoria, and have heightened alertness and be better able to work, but after chewing just one at nighttime, we didn’t feel very awake. In fact, my jaw was really tired from chewing the fibrous wad. It wasn’t the instant party we thought it could be, so we didn’t chew any more.
Betel nut is natural, but it’s not exactly a harmless stimulant. According to Wikipedia, it causes cancer (oral especially), gum deterioration, and is habit forming. It claimed that regular betel nut chewers in Taiwan are 28 times more likely to get oral cancer than non-chewers. So before you “do the chew,” think what it will do to you.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Tiny (Eco) Footprints
According to 2006 statistics, the percentage of days in Taipei with “good air quality” was only 41.3%. It’s common to see people on scooters wearing SARS masks to avoid breathing the appalling traffic fumes. But Taiwan is an island 394 km in length, 144 km across its widest point, packed with 22.8 million people. This is a density of 635 people per square kilometer. For comparison, Canada has about 3.2 people per square kilometer. So of course this place will be a stink hole. The thing that really surprises me about the environment though is how eco-friendly the default lifestyle is here.
Homes
There really aren’t many houses in urban areas. I was in Taipei for three months before I happened to take a bus into a rich part of town where I saw about 30 houses. Everyone lives in an apartment. Most rented apartments come furnished, often with a washing machine. Wet clothes are dried by the sun. Heat also comes from the sun, and lacking sun in the depths of winter, you are simply cold all the time. No central heating. All the light bulbs in my place are the energy efficient LED sort, and I suspect there aren’t any incandescent bulbs left in the Taipei area.
Recycling
Recycling is also made very convenient. My apartment building has sorting bins outdoors in a kind of courtyard. If you don’t sort everything properly, the ancient security guard who wears two pairs of glasses at a time will sort it for you. It’s pretty humiliating, so I have four bags taped up against my wall: one for drink containers, one for paper, one for plastic, and one for non-recyclable stuff. This was a big change for me because in Canada I couldn’t recycle anything without access to a car. I have never lived anywhere where taking out the recycling was as easy as taking out the garbage.
My school also makes recycling easy. The students have the option of dumping stuff into the recycling bin, the garbage bin, or the food scraps bin. Paper food boxes, drink containers and scrap paper go into the recycling bin, and staff use both sides of white paper before it’s recycled. About 492,000 tonnes of material from Taipei City were recycled in 2007. Schools in Taipei City recycled 6,469 tonnes of material in December 2007 alone. It makes you wonder why we have to test run blue box programs in Canada before they can even be considered being made widely available. Recycling is way too complicated back home. Why is that?
Transportation
Taipei City has a phenomenal public transit system. The MRT (Mass Rapid Transit) is extremely efficient, timely and convenient. It is a very popular way to get around. Besides the MRT, the buses are also quite efficient in their own way. Buses in Taipei will hold as many people as possible, and then 11 or 12 more. Nobody ever asks when the bus arrives, because the answer is always “in five minutes.” In fact, five minutes may be the longest I have ever waited for a bus. Even though public transit is very popular, and it’s a treat to be able to sit down, not everyone relies on it. Trains and buses stop running at midnight, so that’s a huge downside to the system.
At the end of 2006, the number of registered motor vehicles in the country totaled 20.31 million. That’s a lot, but 13.56 million were motorcycles/scooters and only 6.75 million were automobiles. Scooters here are often criticized for being high polluting, but there’s no way they pollute even half as much as a car. And scooters here do the same job as a car – I have seen families of four on a single scooter with toddlers and dogs riding in front of the driver’s feet. Maybe the efficient use of space goes too far sometimes, but on the whole, Taiwan makes many admirable green efforts.
Homes
There really aren’t many houses in urban areas. I was in Taipei for three months before I happened to take a bus into a rich part of town where I saw about 30 houses. Everyone lives in an apartment. Most rented apartments come furnished, often with a washing machine. Wet clothes are dried by the sun. Heat also comes from the sun, and lacking sun in the depths of winter, you are simply cold all the time. No central heating. All the light bulbs in my place are the energy efficient LED sort, and I suspect there aren’t any incandescent bulbs left in the Taipei area.
Recycling
Recycling is also made very convenient. My apartment building has sorting bins outdoors in a kind of courtyard. If you don’t sort everything properly, the ancient security guard who wears two pairs of glasses at a time will sort it for you. It’s pretty humiliating, so I have four bags taped up against my wall: one for drink containers, one for paper, one for plastic, and one for non-recyclable stuff. This was a big change for me because in Canada I couldn’t recycle anything without access to a car. I have never lived anywhere where taking out the recycling was as easy as taking out the garbage.
My school also makes recycling easy. The students have the option of dumping stuff into the recycling bin, the garbage bin, or the food scraps bin. Paper food boxes, drink containers and scrap paper go into the recycling bin, and staff use both sides of white paper before it’s recycled. About 492,000 tonnes of material from Taipei City were recycled in 2007. Schools in Taipei City recycled 6,469 tonnes of material in December 2007 alone. It makes you wonder why we have to test run blue box programs in Canada before they can even be considered being made widely available. Recycling is way too complicated back home. Why is that?
Transportation
Taipei City has a phenomenal public transit system. The MRT (Mass Rapid Transit) is extremely efficient, timely and convenient. It is a very popular way to get around. Besides the MRT, the buses are also quite efficient in their own way. Buses in Taipei will hold as many people as possible, and then 11 or 12 more. Nobody ever asks when the bus arrives, because the answer is always “in five minutes.” In fact, five minutes may be the longest I have ever waited for a bus. Even though public transit is very popular, and it’s a treat to be able to sit down, not everyone relies on it. Trains and buses stop running at midnight, so that’s a huge downside to the system.
At the end of 2006, the number of registered motor vehicles in the country totaled 20.31 million. That’s a lot, but 13.56 million were motorcycles/scooters and only 6.75 million were automobiles. Scooters here are often criticized for being high polluting, but there’s no way they pollute even half as much as a car. And scooters here do the same job as a car – I have seen families of four on a single scooter with toddlers and dogs riding in front of the driver’s feet. Maybe the efficient use of space goes too far sometimes, but on the whole, Taiwan makes many admirable green efforts.
Monday, February 18, 2008
How's the Food?
“Engwen ma?” I say as I point to the menu.
“Yo,” says the employee as he searches through the stack of menus to find the English version.
Today I want fried rice, and I know this restaurant has it.
Speed reading through the oversized laminated menu for foreign dummies, I find chicken fried rice, shrimp fried rice, pork fried rice, and squid fried rice.
“Su de chaofan ma?” Vegetarian fried rice?
The employee doesn’t understand.
“Wo chi su,” I try again.
“No meat?” Another employee says in English.
“Yes! No meat!”
They point to the part of the menu that features shrimp, fish, and frog. I tell them that I don’t want any of it. They show me a plate of whole shrimp, and I tell them “bu yao,” or “don’t want.” A group of three or four people is now perplexed by my actions.
“Do you speak English?” someone asks.
They think I don’t understand the English menu because I don’t want meat. I see a pricey eggplant dish and go with it. After a few minutes my order arrives – with pork inside.
Being vegetarian in Taiwan is most often frustrating. If the restaurant doesn’t have an English menu, or pictures, you best just move on. However, there are some places where eating becomes as easy and natural as… eating. There are magical places in Taipei where you don’t have to order the only vegetarian dish on the menu, and you don’t have to try to negotiate meat out of the deal. These restaurants have dozens of 100 per cent vegetarian items, and many options for protein. To find such a haven of tranquility, just follow the swastika.
Swastika Food
Lonely Planet says the symbol on Taiwanese restaurants is actually a “backwards swastika,” but upon further research, I learned that there is no such thing as a backwards swastika. Buddhists use both the right-facing and left-facing swastikas in their scriptures, and Nazi’s also used both symbols since their flags were through and through. To be fair, Nazi’s more often used a right-facing swastika at a 45 degree angle, and Buddhists will more often use a left-facing one at no angle (flat across the top and bottom). Now you know.
On a restaurant, the symbol indicates that the food is safe for even the most hardcore of Buddhists. Unfortunately, this means there is no garlic, onion, shallot, leek, or chives in the food; these are the “Five Acrid and Strong Smelling Vegetables” that must be avoided. Wontons, fake seafood of all kinds, and various gluten-made meat alternatives in noodles, rice and soup make up the bulk of the selection. One day, I sat down to a huge bowl of rice noodle and fake seafood soup, which included fake squid, lobster, crab, and shrimp for only NT$65, or $2 CAD.
The definition of “vegetarian” in Taiwan is unbelievably varied. It ranges from not being able to eat potatoes or garlic, to being able to eat fish and pork.
Yo ro ma? Have meat?
Street food is a staple in Taiwanese cuisine, especially if it comes on a stick. Everything comes on a stick: whole squid, chicken skin, pork, fish dough, octopus tentacles, vegetables, tofu and rice. Fruit doesn’t come on a stick, but it comes in a bag and you eat it with an oversized toothpick. I like to get barbecued mushrooms, green peppers and tofu, but I also like to be conservatively adventurous. So, when I see something that looks meat-free, I point to it and ask “Yo ro ma?” I did this on one occasion when I saw a bar of black rice that was up for a grillin’. The vendor said it had no meat, so I went for it. The bar was alright. It was just gummy rice with no real taste other than the sauce and spices it was grilled with.
A couple weeks later, I was perusing the grocery store when I saw the same black rice. I had already eaten it twice. I looked closer to see if the secret ingredient, either seaweed or molasses, would be revealed. The English caption said “Rice in pig’s blood.” I could have fainted. But, maybe I’m immortal now.
I have been a vegetarian for about 10 years, and I have never heard of a pork eating, pig’s blood ingesting vegetarian. Luckily, grocery stores tend to be more reliable than street peddlers.
Wellcome
Wellcome is a popular 24-hour grocery chain that makes my life much easier. It has two vegetarian sections – one refrigerated and one frozen. That’s not to say that I can buy the staples I was used to buying in Canada. There aren’t any buns, tortillas, bagels, pickles, minute rice, cans of beans or perogies. Pasta sauce is very expensive when they have it, and cheese is also insanely expensive for just a small chunk. But I can get frozen dumplings and fried rice, and even fake shark-fin soup if I want it. Fake shrimp and various styles of fake chicken are pretty cheap and actually taste really good. While eating out is very inexpensive, in this particular neighbourhood, it is just not worth the frustration.
So, to answer the burning question, “How’s the food?” my official answer is “Alright, I guess.”
“Yo,” says the employee as he searches through the stack of menus to find the English version.
Today I want fried rice, and I know this restaurant has it.
Speed reading through the oversized laminated menu for foreign dummies, I find chicken fried rice, shrimp fried rice, pork fried rice, and squid fried rice.
“Su de chaofan ma?” Vegetarian fried rice?
The employee doesn’t understand.
“Wo chi su,” I try again.
“No meat?” Another employee says in English.
“Yes! No meat!”
They point to the part of the menu that features shrimp, fish, and frog. I tell them that I don’t want any of it. They show me a plate of whole shrimp, and I tell them “bu yao,” or “don’t want.” A group of three or four people is now perplexed by my actions.
“Do you speak English?” someone asks.
They think I don’t understand the English menu because I don’t want meat. I see a pricey eggplant dish and go with it. After a few minutes my order arrives – with pork inside.
Being vegetarian in Taiwan is most often frustrating. If the restaurant doesn’t have an English menu, or pictures, you best just move on. However, there are some places where eating becomes as easy and natural as… eating. There are magical places in Taipei where you don’t have to order the only vegetarian dish on the menu, and you don’t have to try to negotiate meat out of the deal. These restaurants have dozens of 100 per cent vegetarian items, and many options for protein. To find such a haven of tranquility, just follow the swastika.
Swastika Food
Lonely Planet says the symbol on Taiwanese restaurants is actually a “backwards swastika,” but upon further research, I learned that there is no such thing as a backwards swastika. Buddhists use both the right-facing and left-facing swastikas in their scriptures, and Nazi’s also used both symbols since their flags were through and through. To be fair, Nazi’s more often used a right-facing swastika at a 45 degree angle, and Buddhists will more often use a left-facing one at no angle (flat across the top and bottom). Now you know.
On a restaurant, the symbol indicates that the food is safe for even the most hardcore of Buddhists. Unfortunately, this means there is no garlic, onion, shallot, leek, or chives in the food; these are the “Five Acrid and Strong Smelling Vegetables” that must be avoided. Wontons, fake seafood of all kinds, and various gluten-made meat alternatives in noodles, rice and soup make up the bulk of the selection. One day, I sat down to a huge bowl of rice noodle and fake seafood soup, which included fake squid, lobster, crab, and shrimp for only NT$65, or $2 CAD.
The definition of “vegetarian” in Taiwan is unbelievably varied. It ranges from not being able to eat potatoes or garlic, to being able to eat fish and pork.
Yo ro ma? Have meat?
Street food is a staple in Taiwanese cuisine, especially if it comes on a stick. Everything comes on a stick: whole squid, chicken skin, pork, fish dough, octopus tentacles, vegetables, tofu and rice. Fruit doesn’t come on a stick, but it comes in a bag and you eat it with an oversized toothpick. I like to get barbecued mushrooms, green peppers and tofu, but I also like to be conservatively adventurous. So, when I see something that looks meat-free, I point to it and ask “Yo ro ma?” I did this on one occasion when I saw a bar of black rice that was up for a grillin’. The vendor said it had no meat, so I went for it. The bar was alright. It was just gummy rice with no real taste other than the sauce and spices it was grilled with.
A couple weeks later, I was perusing the grocery store when I saw the same black rice. I had already eaten it twice. I looked closer to see if the secret ingredient, either seaweed or molasses, would be revealed. The English caption said “Rice in pig’s blood.” I could have fainted. But, maybe I’m immortal now.
I have been a vegetarian for about 10 years, and I have never heard of a pork eating, pig’s blood ingesting vegetarian. Luckily, grocery stores tend to be more reliable than street peddlers.
Wellcome
Wellcome is a popular 24-hour grocery chain that makes my life much easier. It has two vegetarian sections – one refrigerated and one frozen. That’s not to say that I can buy the staples I was used to buying in Canada. There aren’t any buns, tortillas, bagels, pickles, minute rice, cans of beans or perogies. Pasta sauce is very expensive when they have it, and cheese is also insanely expensive for just a small chunk. But I can get frozen dumplings and fried rice, and even fake shark-fin soup if I want it. Fake shrimp and various styles of fake chicken are pretty cheap and actually taste really good. While eating out is very inexpensive, in this particular neighbourhood, it is just not worth the frustration.
So, to answer the burning question, “How’s the food?” my official answer is “Alright, I guess.”
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Lottery Day!
Lottery day! Lottery day! I have been looking forward to this for two months.
I am not normally a lottery player, but in Taiwan you have to be a fool not to play. You see, every time you buy something from a store you get a receipt with a lottery number printed across the top. On the 26th of every odd month the newspapers print the winning numbers. The prizes awarded range from NT$200 ($6.25 CDN) to NT$2 million ($62,500 CDN). To get the grand prize, you have to match all eight numbers of the grand prize number. To win other amounts, you have to match at least the last three numbers of the winning numbers. There are three sets of winning numbers, plus the grand prize number. And yes, foreigners can win!
From what I can piece together from blogs and old newspaper articles, the Taiwanese government started this lottery sometime around 1999. Apparently a lot of businesses were making sales under the table and not paying the proper amount of tax, so the government figured if millions of dollars were up for grabs, people would demand their receipts. All stores, excluding street vendors, had to switch over to special cash registers that printed government issued receipts with randomized lottery numbers.
It seems to be working. Sales clerks are always forcing the receipt on you. I was feeling bogged down with paper in my first couple of weeks here with all the receipts being forced into my hand with the change. You definitely get strange looks when you refuse a receipt or throw out a fistful of them at 7-Eleven. If you are a lottery player-hater, you can toss your receipts in a charity box. Some charities have made tens of millions from donated receipts over the years.
I have over 200 receipts saved up. Unfortunately, most of them are for the January/February draw. This lottery is for November/December. But I still have about 80 chances to become disappointed.
I am not normally a lottery player, but in Taiwan you have to be a fool not to play. You see, every time you buy something from a store you get a receipt with a lottery number printed across the top. On the 26th of every odd month the newspapers print the winning numbers. The prizes awarded range from NT$200 ($6.25 CDN) to NT$2 million ($62,500 CDN). To get the grand prize, you have to match all eight numbers of the grand prize number. To win other amounts, you have to match at least the last three numbers of the winning numbers. There are three sets of winning numbers, plus the grand prize number. And yes, foreigners can win!
From what I can piece together from blogs and old newspaper articles, the Taiwanese government started this lottery sometime around 1999. Apparently a lot of businesses were making sales under the table and not paying the proper amount of tax, so the government figured if millions of dollars were up for grabs, people would demand their receipts. All stores, excluding street vendors, had to switch over to special cash registers that printed government issued receipts with randomized lottery numbers.
It seems to be working. Sales clerks are always forcing the receipt on you. I was feeling bogged down with paper in my first couple of weeks here with all the receipts being forced into my hand with the change. You definitely get strange looks when you refuse a receipt or throw out a fistful of them at 7-Eleven. If you are a lottery player-hater, you can toss your receipts in a charity box. Some charities have made tens of millions from donated receipts over the years.
I have over 200 receipts saved up. Unfortunately, most of them are for the January/February draw. This lottery is for November/December. But I still have about 80 chances to become disappointed.
The Field Trip
“Oh, hello Teacher Amy!” I hear as I walk into work exactly on time at 8 a.m.
“Morning Molly.”
“You look tired. You aren’t used to waking up early.” This is not so much a question.
“Nope, you got me.”
Today we are taking 28 kids from our buxiban (cram school) on a special outing. They are done public school for Chinese New Year, so our school provides a “Winter Camp” for their parents to dump them at. I would normally go to work at 12:30, so this outing is not quite making me giddy. My only instructions are to watch the students and make sure they speak English. We are going to a science museum.
After we have given the kids three or four chances to go to the bathroom, we meet the bus outside and pile on. The bus is F’ing luxurious compared to the tin cans we rode around in when I was in school. It’s high set and spacious, plus there are doilies on the head rests, fancy curtains for the windows, several thin-modern TVs, and my seat has a faux wood tray/cup holder. Now, if only I had the foresight to buy a goddamn coffee.
The bus gets rolling and we pick up some more students and teachers from another Joy School. The DVD starts up; it’s an unanimated show about a man who sends a chimpanzee on tasks with a dog. In the first part, the chimp has to lead the dog down the road, across the river, to a farm, then come back home. The dog has a little backpack, so the chimp (called Abbo) has to make sure the lunch stays in. At the farm, the farmer lets the chimp eat the lunch, then gives him a melon to take back to the man. When the chimp fucks up (i.e. makes a wrong turn), the camera cuts to the frustrated man (“Abbo!”) who is apparently spying on his chimpanzee. It’s all in Chinese. So much for encouraging English.
“Teacher!”
One kid in the next row is leaving his seat. Between the two seats I see his travel buddy has a wet mouth and something on his hands. Brian Chen, no!
As I am the foreign teacher, I don’t have to get up. I feel bad about it, but not bad enough to get wet in some kid’s milky morning vomit.
I see my coworkers hand him a bag; the kid didn’t think to use one of the plastic bags in front of him. Then they grab tissues and begin cleaning up. Piles of tissues are put in the trash can by the back set of stairs, directly in front of me. I watch the antics of Abbo and try to keep my own stomach strong.
After about 45 minutes on the road, we arrive at the National Taiwan Science Education Center. The building is about nine storeys tall, and the first thing I notice upon entering is the clear escalator zigzagging up to each floor. All the mechanics are visible! I look up and see someone peddling an odd looking bicycle across a tight rope on the seventh floor. Now I’m excited. I can see a net with a few stray rubber balls underneath the rider, and some kind of ball cannon on either side of the tight rope. Can you try to hit the rider with balls?! It is a question left unanswered, because our students are to go straight up to the eighth floor.
We go into a room filled with inflatable moonwalks. There are six different jumping platforms – the kind you see at carnivals, or at rich kids’ birthday parties on TV. Retired grandmothers with headset microphones man each moonwalk. The students sit in rows and one of the volunteers explains the rules in Chinese. Then the students take off like cats riled up on catnip. Brian Chen, the carsick one, has to stop jumping almost immediately, go figure.
After half an hour of walking around the room trying to look busy, I get antsy. I want to know when the science and fun will start. I ask my co-worker.
“We will stay here until 10:50,” she says. “Then we can go back to the bus.”
“They’re just going to jump all day?” I ask. “No science?”
Mei laughs at me. “You seem so disappointed!” she says still laughing.
So I spend the next hour wandering around the room, and sitting next to Brian Chen. The students aren’t really talking, just yelling and laughing. There’s no English to enforce. I feel completely useless.
When it’s finally time to go home, we pair teachers with the high-risk students. And, as anticipated, we have two pukers. Brian Chen gives a good show again, and Calvin also puts his plastic bag to use. My enthusiasm for next week’s trip to the farm is waning. What disgusting adventures will we find there?
“Morning Molly.”
“You look tired. You aren’t used to waking up early.” This is not so much a question.
“Nope, you got me.”
Today we are taking 28 kids from our buxiban (cram school) on a special outing. They are done public school for Chinese New Year, so our school provides a “Winter Camp” for their parents to dump them at. I would normally go to work at 12:30, so this outing is not quite making me giddy. My only instructions are to watch the students and make sure they speak English. We are going to a science museum.
After we have given the kids three or four chances to go to the bathroom, we meet the bus outside and pile on. The bus is F’ing luxurious compared to the tin cans we rode around in when I was in school. It’s high set and spacious, plus there are doilies on the head rests, fancy curtains for the windows, several thin-modern TVs, and my seat has a faux wood tray/cup holder. Now, if only I had the foresight to buy a goddamn coffee.
The bus gets rolling and we pick up some more students and teachers from another Joy School. The DVD starts up; it’s an unanimated show about a man who sends a chimpanzee on tasks with a dog. In the first part, the chimp has to lead the dog down the road, across the river, to a farm, then come back home. The dog has a little backpack, so the chimp (called Abbo) has to make sure the lunch stays in. At the farm, the farmer lets the chimp eat the lunch, then gives him a melon to take back to the man. When the chimp fucks up (i.e. makes a wrong turn), the camera cuts to the frustrated man (“Abbo!”) who is apparently spying on his chimpanzee. It’s all in Chinese. So much for encouraging English.
“Teacher!”
One kid in the next row is leaving his seat. Between the two seats I see his travel buddy has a wet mouth and something on his hands. Brian Chen, no!
As I am the foreign teacher, I don’t have to get up. I feel bad about it, but not bad enough to get wet in some kid’s milky morning vomit.
I see my coworkers hand him a bag; the kid didn’t think to use one of the plastic bags in front of him. Then they grab tissues and begin cleaning up. Piles of tissues are put in the trash can by the back set of stairs, directly in front of me. I watch the antics of Abbo and try to keep my own stomach strong.
After about 45 minutes on the road, we arrive at the National Taiwan Science Education Center. The building is about nine storeys tall, and the first thing I notice upon entering is the clear escalator zigzagging up to each floor. All the mechanics are visible! I look up and see someone peddling an odd looking bicycle across a tight rope on the seventh floor. Now I’m excited. I can see a net with a few stray rubber balls underneath the rider, and some kind of ball cannon on either side of the tight rope. Can you try to hit the rider with balls?! It is a question left unanswered, because our students are to go straight up to the eighth floor.
We go into a room filled with inflatable moonwalks. There are six different jumping platforms – the kind you see at carnivals, or at rich kids’ birthday parties on TV. Retired grandmothers with headset microphones man each moonwalk. The students sit in rows and one of the volunteers explains the rules in Chinese. Then the students take off like cats riled up on catnip. Brian Chen, the carsick one, has to stop jumping almost immediately, go figure.
After half an hour of walking around the room trying to look busy, I get antsy. I want to know when the science and fun will start. I ask my co-worker.
“We will stay here until 10:50,” she says. “Then we can go back to the bus.”
“They’re just going to jump all day?” I ask. “No science?”
Mei laughs at me. “You seem so disappointed!” she says still laughing.
So I spend the next hour wandering around the room, and sitting next to Brian Chen. The students aren’t really talking, just yelling and laughing. There’s no English to enforce. I feel completely useless.
When it’s finally time to go home, we pair teachers with the high-risk students. And, as anticipated, we have two pukers. Brian Chen gives a good show again, and Calvin also puts his plastic bag to use. My enthusiasm for next week’s trip to the farm is waning. What disgusting adventures will we find there?
The Big Stink
Hello and welcome. Thank you for your interest in my Stinktown blog.
I am writing to you from Sinjhuang City, Taipei County, Taiwan R.O.C. This is about a 35 minute bus ride away from the heart of Taipei City, the second most densely populated city in the world. I am in Sinjhuang teaching English to students aged 7-14 in a cram school, or buxiban.
Although Taiwan is known as a popular destination for English teachers, there is room for more! The best time to find a job in Taiwan is January, although jobs are available year round. If you want to join me in Taiwan all you need is:
- At least a bachelor’s degree in any field
- A 60 day visitor’s visa (You can ask a travel agent if you don’t know where to look. I got mine through http://www.embassylink.ca/)
- Money to last until your first paycheck ($1,500 is a safe amount)
You can find jobs by searching online, checking message boards at your hostel, and contacting agents. I got my job through an agent who e-mailed me job descriptions until I found one I wanted to interview for. Once you have secured a job, your employer should walk you through the process of getting a work permit and Alien Resident Card (ARC). They’ll also give you some kind of training. Once you have an ARC, you can get a bank account. You shouldn’t rent an apartment until you have secured employment for one year, as most apartments want you to sign on for a year as well. You’ll need a genuine Taiwanese person to sign the lease with you, but don’t worry, they are plentiful here.
Why come to Stinktown? To smell the smells you’ve never smelled. If that’s not good enough, keep reading and I’ll tell you what the Big Stink is all about.
* “Stinktown” and “the Big Stink” are terms referring to Taipei City and area. Note that these are not expressions that people actually use.
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