Double Ten

This weekend, we were able to take advantage of the Taiwanese national holiday and, since “Double Ten Day” (so called for being the tenth day of the tenth month) fell on a Saturday, we got a three day weekend. In an attempt to get to know our island home a little better, Chris planned a trip with some of our friends down to the southern tip of Taiwan to a beach town called Kenting. Having two typhoons swirling around in the Pacific last week made us a little nervous, but the worst seemed to be over by the time we hopped on the high speed train down south. Arriving late Thursday night, we found our hotel and crashed into bed. Friday morning, we got up and explored the area around our hotel and staked out the nearest beach. At this point, I would like to emphasize the difference between American beach culture and Taiwanese beach culture. In the U.S., we love our beaches. White sand, brown sand, black sand, warm water, cold water, murky water, it pretty much doesn’t matter. As long as there is salt water and sand, we are lining up around the block ready to overpay for airbrushed tee-shirts and tacky postcards. Taiwan, on the other hand, is a totally different story. First of all, most Asian women highly value their white skin. In fact, they often walk around with umbrellas on sunny days to avoid any stimulation of skin pigmentation. So, laying out is pretty much out of the question. Add to that the superstition that ghosts come from the water and you are left with an empty beach. And, that is what we had. Beautiful, empty beaches.

Sadly, the tail end of the second typhoon was still lingering on Friday afternoon so we were left to wander around the town ducking into tourist traps and restaurants when the skies opened up. Friday evening, our friends who were staying in cabins on the other side of the city invited us over for a barbecue. Not being ones to miss out on food cooked over open flame, we gladly accepted. Getting to their cabin was easier said than done, however. In Taipei, we are spoiled with the ease of public transportation. So, we were unpleasantly surprised when finding a taxi in Kenting turned out to be quite an odyssey. After finally flagging one down and explaining where we wanted to go, the driver quoted us what we thought was an astronomical price. Thinking that it was an attempt to bargain, we came back with a low-ball price. But, the disheveled driver refused to change his price. Just out of principle, we all decided that we would rather walk the 10 kilometers to their house rather than let this toothless scoundrel take advantage of us. So, we did. We grabbed our things and started walking. About two kilometers later, our principles started to weaken and we caved, though not completely. We had an overpriced van come and pick us up (which turned out to be more than the astronomically priced taxi). But, we got there. And we were very glad that we did. Our friends ventured to the fresh fish market that afternoon and picked up a veritable cornucopia of fresh fish, clams, and squid. For the rest of the evening, we cooked, ate, talked with our friends and the hotel owner, and generally participated in good ol’ fashioned merrymaking.

Saturday proved to be a much better day for the beach and so we laid out and swam all day. Saturday night we went into town and had dinner, wandered through the night market and caught a glimpse of a few fireworks. Sunday, we wished the sun goodbye and headed back to Taipei. In all, it was deemed a successful Double Ten Day.

River Tracing

By: Coach

Every student loves taking field trips. Who wouldn’t right? You go to the same place 5 days a week for 8 hours a day, so a break from the mundane is a big deal. I can still remember my first field trip in K-5. Not only do I remember the trip to the Birmingham Zoo, but I also remember the kid that I was literally TIED to! The buddy system was a little forced back in those days! Most school trips are, at some level, educationally based so administration can justify allowing teachers to go along and leave someone else to cover their classes as they take a break from teaching for a day.

Here in Taiwan not much is different. Most students jump at the chance of skipping out of school to take a trip (although some would rather stay). Much like the schools in America, our teachers are usually the first in line to sign up to go! I was fortunate enough to be one of the 4 teachers that accompanied our Taiwanese kids on the latest “field trip”.

I have to say, there are many things back home I miss and after teaching, coaching and living in Taiwan for over a year now I often wish things would operate more “American”. However, I am certain that our school trips here in Taiwan will be very hard to top wherever you are. Let me explain: If I depicted an outing that required wetsuits, life-jackets and helmets would a school related trip be in your top ten possible activities? I think not. If I went on to describe a rushing river carving through the lush, green mountains with various boulders along the way (to jump off into the river), would that be in the “educational” category of your trip planning books? Probs not. One last question: if you were told that the activity in said location would be to, in teams, walk up-river through slippery rocks and white water using various techniques (rock climbing) and tools (ropes) would you say something like…”Do what now?” Because that is exactly what I said when I first heard about River Tracing.

Last week I went with a group of high school students and we experienced the beauty of nature while “tracing” and sometimes floating back down just for fun! At the end of our journey we rewarded ourselves by jumping off a 25 foot boulder. Fun times. Here are some photos to prove it:

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

I am going to come out and confess to you all a sad fact about Chris and me. We are not good neighbors. I would like to blame this reality on the limits of our language, seeing as how we don’t have much need to constantly inform our neighbors that we are American or to order coffee from them. But the truth of the matter is that we weren’t that great of neighbors in Alabama either. However, we have some friends here who are great neighbors. So great, in fact, they had some of them stop by while we were over the other night. The daughter spoke great English as she had just returned from a year being an exchange student in Minnesota. We got into a very interesting discussion about the differences between Taiwanese and American cultures. Over the past year, I have used this blog to describe to you the funny things about Taiwanese culture. I thought it only appropriate after all of this time to inform you what is funny about American culture according to our friends’ neighbors.

1) Americans drink a lot of milk. I mean, a lot. They drink it every night with dinner, every night! Don’t they get sick of it? It really doesn’t taste that good and it can give you… digestive problems.

2) Americans don’t go to the doctor nearly often enough. Our friends’ neighbor had a scratchy throat and begged and begged her host mom to take her to the doctor. The host mom said that she wouldn’t take her to the doctor unless she had a fever. Can you believe it? She had to have a fever to go to the doctor? All the host mom did was give her some pills she got at the store. The poor girl was very afraid for her well-being.

3) Americans eat cheese. There are few things less appetizing than spoiled milk dyed unnatural shades of orange. And, they put it on everything. Sometimes they even just eat it by itself. Eeew.

4) Our good-neighbor friends are also the ones who just had a baby and we found out that there are many things that Americans do that are strange when it comes to child-bearing. First of all, Americans let pregnant women eat cold things like… ice cream. Don’t they know that it will harm the baby? What is it with Americans and dairy?

5) American women go home right after they have a baby. In Taiwan, women take about a month and go to hotel-like places that are meant to take care of mom and baby in order to ensure that the first formative days of the baby’s life are stress-free.

6) Americans don’t even know what wine chicken is. In Taiwan, new moms eat wine chicken for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a full month after giving birth. (Wine chicken is basically chicken served in a white wine sauce. It’s pretty good but I don’t think I could handle anything for three meals a day for an entire month.)

These are just a few of the things that others find so strange about us. I am sure that there are more but these are the only ones that good manners allowed them to share with us.

A Note on Fire Safety

I’ll be the first to admit that I know absolutely nothing when it comes to plumbing, carpentry, electricity, or anything else related to home improvement. However, last week when I put a load of laundry into the drier, I noticed that something was amiss. I’m not sure what clued me in first – was it the stench of hot, burning metal, the ominous black puffs of smoke being expelled from the outlet, or the simple fact that my clothes just weren’t dry? Seen from the photos below, our drier plug and outlet aren’t exactly in prime condition.


This is actually the state in which we found both the plug and outlet a year ago so we were pleasantly surprised that this setup lasted us through the entire year last year.

Apparently, this is a common problem and has something to do with attempting to plug a drier (which has more voltage than your everyday household appliance) into a normal outlet. On top of using a normal voltage outlet, all Taiwanese outlets noticeably lack the third “ground” prong hole (this is all very technical jargon) making the use of driers even more precarious.

So, after the smoking outlet incident, we asked our repair guy (via the school secretary) to please take a look at the offending outlet. Very kindly, they replaced the outlet so that it was free of all scary black marks. However, this week when I put our freshly washed sheets into the menacing little machine, the same black smoke poured out of our fresh, white outlet. Sadly resigning to the idea that we do, indeed, need a new drier, I pulled the wet garments out once again. Lacking any outdoor area in which to hang our laundry, we were forced to hang everything inside our apartment. Dripping sheets, shirts, towels, and undies turned our home into a soggy little maze of wet clothes. I am happy to report, however, that now on Sunday afternoon, all of our clothes have effectively dried and been put away. I don’t know, maybe if we don’t get a new drier by next week, we can put up strobe lights and charge kids to come through the haunted swamp house. What do you think?

Uncle Pete and his Doritos

Well, over here in Taipei we are wiping our brows for two reasons. The first is because of the ridiculous heat and humidity, about which I have already griped sufficiently. The second reason is relief. We have all successfully survived another Ghost Month. Ghost Month is a lunar holiday kept once a year and as its name suggests, it is a 30 day observance that culminates with one massive celebration on the last day.

Taiwanese culture is extremely superstitious and involves a lot of ancestor worship. It is the duty of the oldest child (or the favorite child) in a family to worship his or her parents after they die. Ghosts frequent the living world and can either bring prosperity or curses on whomever they choose. It is believed that ghosts live inside umbrellas and so if you open one indoors, all the ghosts are released into the room. Instead of an “it” in games of tag, there is a “ghost”. Children refuse to go swimming during Ghost Month because the ghosts live in the water (actually, there is a pond close to our apartment that is so foul, I’m pretty sure that it is a passage to the Netherworld).

All throughout the year, you will see small metal buckets outside of businesses in which shopkeepers burn fake money to appease the ghosts. In fact, there was one occasion last year when we had to vacate our apartment building due to a ghost money incident gone awry. People burn money and incense to make sure that the ghosts are happy and bring them prosperity. If they do not burn money, it is believed that the ghosts will curse the business because of the owners’ stinginess. These beliefs are so widely held that even major American businesses like IBM who have set up shop here in Taiwan burn giant stacks of fake money. I was especially tickled when I learned that some people, instead of fake money, burn paper credit cards for their ghosts. Here’s a Visa so you can accumulate a giant ghost debt? I don’t know.

Anyway, during Ghost Month, these phantoms are supposedly out in full force and therefore people are especially vigilant about their cash combustion and altar making. On the last day of the month, groups set up giant rainbow tents all over town so that people can set up altars to their deceased relatives. In addition, they form giant cylinders out of chicken wire to hold all of the ghost money that will be burned. For the altars, they take all of the relatives’ favorite foods and set them out on the table for the ghosts to come and feed off of the essence (I guess ol' Uncle Pete really liked Doritos here). Don’t worry, though. After the essence has been consumed, the families take this food home for a living person feast. If you are familiar with Mexico’s Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), this celebration is similar – except with a slightly darker twist. In Mexico, it is more of a celebration of that person’s life. In Taiwan, it is more so that you must appease the ancestors or else they will curse you. So, happy Ghost Day and let's hope people do all of their honoring of their ancestors outside this year.

Anustya anyone?

There are some experiences that we have had in Taiwan that are night and day different from what we are used to in America. Others are so similar to our native culture that we barely notice that we’ve left home. While the majority of our dentist appointment fits into the latter category, there is enough in the former that I thought we could go ahead and blog about it.

The dentist that we go to gets our business simply because he speaks English. His staff, however, does not. So, making our appointments was a relatively humiliating process of pointing, charading, and butchering the Chinese language. Miraculously, the appointments were made and we arrived for our cleaning. We filled out our forms as much as we could. Though, embarrassingly, I had to ask if I was 男 or 女… male or female. Minus the small talk between the hygienist and me, the next few minutes went just the same as in the U.S. They took me back to the x-ray machine, presented me with a lead vest and took pictures. I was then taken to the exam chair where I awaited the doctor.

With all of the medical jargon being thrown around, chatter between the hygienist and the dentist usually goes in one ear and out the other for me. So, the Mandarin chatter didn’t make much of a difference for me. What I did understand was when the good doctor sat down and told me what we all dread to hear. Cavity. Actually, two cavities. Apparently our dentist in the States wasn’t lying when he said I had better floss more often or the spot he pointed out would turn into a cavity. It is funny how I know what the end result will be but I still find flossing a little too inconvenient. Maybe one of these days I will learn my lesson. Anyway, this is where the appointment becomes Taiwanese.

Having diagnosed the cavities, the dentist informed me that we must reschedule a cleaning because the appointment only allowed enough time to fill the cavities. No waiting around three weeks dreading the return visit, they just take care of business right then and there. It took me a little while to understand the next thing that the dentist asked. “Do you want anustya?” I asked him to please repeat the question. “Anustya, do you want anustya?” I gave him a confused smile and said that I didn’t know. “Numbness! Do you want numbness?” Oooh! Anesthesia! Do I want Anesthesia! My excitement of finally understanding the question quickly wore off when I tried to analyze what he was asking. Was he really asking if I wanted him to drill into my teeth without any drugs? Or was he asking if I wanted to be put under for this procedure? A bit panicked, I reported back that I wanted whatever is “normal”.

I have to say, this was the first time that I was relieved to get a shot in my gums. Despite the random calling in a dinner order in the middle of filling cavity number two, the rest of the appointment went off without a hitch. I am pleased to say that I feel that I made the right decision about the anustya and I can rest easy knowing that my return visit next week will involve neither drills nor needles.

Pride Comes Before the Fall

Yesterday, two of my friends and I were throwing a baby shower for one of our other friends. I say that the three of us threw it, but the truth of the matter is that one of my friends planned the whole thing and I just contributed enough in the final preparation process to garner part of the credit. The party turned out to be quite a success and a heap of fun was had by all. But that isn’t what this blog is about.

We were holding the party at our pastor’s apartment, a place I had visited once before. I asked a friend who was a more frequent visitor to the place for directions and passed out maps and explanations of how to get there to all of the new teachers who had rsvp’d affirmatively. A few were still a little apprehensive about finding the apartment so I offered to be a guide, if they didn’t mind arriving a little early and helping set up. Allowing ourselves enough time to arrive an hour early, we loaded ourselves and all the party gear up on the correct bus. In very broken Mandarin, I attempted to ask the bus driver to let me know when we crossed the cross street that I had been told was close to their apartment. This process, by the way, took much longer than it should have and I didn’t have a lot of confidence in that I communicated effectively. So, I tried to position myself in such a way that I could still read the street signs.

Everything was going along swimmingly until the bus driver called me up to the front and indicated that we had reached our destination. According to the map I had created in my head, we hadn’t traveled quite far enough but I also didn’t want to lean too much on my own shoddy navigational skills. So, I decided to ask him to go one more stop where we nervously disembarked. I looked around and thought that I recognized the area but couldn’t see their apartment building. I approached one building but quickly realized that it was not the correct one.

Reaching for the trusty cell phone, I called my friend who frequented our pastor’s house to see if he could offer some insight as to where we were. After I did my best to describe our location, he confirmed my belief that we hadn’t traveled quite far enough but he assured me that it was under a kilometer away. So, we hoisted our bags full of a variety of baked goods, tea, pitchers, baby toys, etc. onto our shoulders and peeled our eyes for the apartment building.

At this point, I would like to add in this little tidbit. This is Taipei. In August. In the middle of the afternoon. It is hot. I mean, really hot. And humid. I mean, really, really humid. Simply stand outside for more than five minutes and you will find yourself quite literally soaked with sweat. Here we are, trying to be dressed up and cute to host this party, and we are trucking down the street lugging around heavy party provisions scouring the skyline for the elusive building. At first we were all making small talk about the weather, baby showers, and whatever else one talks about when trying to distract one another from the heat.

Finally, someone pointed out the obvious, “I think it has been more than a kilometer.” I agreed, surely that meant we were getting close, right? We wouldn’t have passed it, right? So, we kept walking. And walking. And walking. After nearly forty-five minutes of this drudgery, I decided to say uncle. I called the party planning hostess who was already at the apartment and who had a car.

“We are oh so very lost,” I whimpered. “I don’t know where we are going or where we are.”

“That’s okay,” she reassured me. “Just jump into a taxi and they’ll bring you right here.”

This was a major culture shock moment for me. The heat of the day and the frustration with being not only lost, but inexcusably late caught up with me. I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming, “If I knew how to say my destination, don’t you think I would have asked someone how to get there by now?” Instead, I asked if she wouldn’t mind coming to pick us up. Astutely sensing my frustration, she dropped everything she was doing to come and get us and bring us to the party.

Here’s the kicker. We parked behind the apartment building but I had to go out front to see where it was and how we missed it. The building was literally right next door to the one I thought might have been it when we first got off the bus. We just walked in the wrong direction… for a long time. Luckily, the party planning hostess had everything set up and we arrived about ten minutes before the guest of honor so no one was the wiser.

After I brought my core temperature back down to normal, I was struck by the irony of the situation. Just last week, I blogged all about how confident I was in Taiwanese culture and how all the new teachers could look to us as a beacon of stability who had it all figured out. This week, I am leading three poor, trusting souls to the middle of urban nowhere until we melted into defeated puddles on the Taipei sidewalk. Pride does indeed come before the fall.