The Language Barrier: Both a Blessing and a Curse

Though feeble, Chris and I actually have made an attempt at learning some of the Chinese language. However, our grammar leaves quite a bit to be desired and our vocabulary consists of varying coffee orders and saying “one of this” or “two of that”. While we accept all of the blame for this “ugly American attitude”, I will say that the helpful and English-friendly Taiwanese have added fuel to our lazy fire. Being a language teacher, I am obviously an advocate for learning the language of the culture in which you find yourself. On the other hand, I am going to admit that there have been times when I was glad that I didn’t speak Chinese.

One such occasion was the last time that I went to go get my hair cut. Getting a haircut in Taiwan is a glorious two to three hour ordeal that involves washing, massaging, pruning, and overall pampering (see Great Clips, eat your heart out blog). This is an event that I look forward to with great anticipation. The salon that I frequent is located in our apartment complex and is owned by a young woman who speaks about as much English as I speak Chinese. Typically, when I come in, she hands me a magazine and I point to which picture most closely resembles my desired coif and I hold my breath and hope for the best. Generally, she does a good job and is very friendly whenever I see her around the complex. The inability to communicate frankly doesn’t bother me that much as I am not a big small-talker. However, being a hairdresser, the owner chatters on continuously at me seemingly indifferent to whether or not I understand what she is saying. As I said, not into small talk myself, I am okay with the arrangement that we have. She talks, I nod, smile, or shrug as I think appropriate, she massages my shoulders and cuts my hair, I pay her, and we all end up happy.

This is not always how it turns out. Sometimes, the owner feels obliged to ask one of the other costumers in the shop to translate for her. This is awkward for me for two reasons. First, I hate interrupting another costumer’s relaxation time to come and interpret for the dumb American. Secondly, it is through these translated conversations that I experience a side of Taiwanese culture that I don’t see very often: their bluntness and their uncontrollable desire to offer unsolicited advice. In America, we tend to beat around the bush and sugar coat anything we say as to avoid hurting someone’s feelings. And, to be honest, I like it that way. But, at the salon, I get to find out what people are really saying about me.

The first translated conversation went something like this:
“She would like to tell you that the blemish on your forehead is very large. You must go to see a doctor about it and eat more vitamin C. You must go to the doctor before you come back.”

The next visit went something like this:
“Ah, I see that the blemish on your forehead is gone. Did you go to the doctor? No? Hm. You really should go. The blemishes that you have are unnaturally large. (directed to other costumers) Don’t you agree that her blemishes are unusually large? (nods of agreement all over the salon)”

My most recent visit:
“Wow, I see that your face is very pale but your arms are too tan. Why do you do it that way? Your face does not have as many blemishes but I don’t think that you should not go to America because America is very bad for your skin. You also must learn Chinese, it is very important.”

So, I am going to be honest. After hearing on several occasions how I need to seek medical attention for my apparently horrendous skin affliction, my motivation to learn Chinese and communicate first-hand with the Taiwanese dissipates a little bit. Though, it would be nice to not have to involve a third party in my berating. We’ll keep you updated on our communication as well as the condition of my leprosy.

It's the Little Things...

In Taipei, we have two seasons. We have a very wet winter and two months of “I’ll bring my umbrella just in case.” The last several weeks have been quite soggy indeed. Anyone who has visited or lived in a city like Seattle or London can appreciate the quiet gloom that settles in after three weeks without a glimpse of the sun. This weekend, our despair was relieved as the sun burned through the clouds and dried up some of the long-standing puddles. In order to replenish our vitamin D stores, we decided to go with some friends to one of our favorite ice cream places after church.

Big Tom’s is famous for a few reasons. First of all, they make delicious ice cream. And they don’t just have boring vanilla, either. The menu boasts flavors like rum cherry, green tea, mango passion fruit, and (the newest addition after November of last year) Obama Chocolate Brownie. Believe me, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. And, yes, we’ve had it; and yes, it is delicious. The second thing that sets Big Tom apart, other than the racially and/or politically geared dairy products, are their spoons. Evidently, they have gone to some trouble to discover that if your taste buds are physically stimulated while you eat, you will enjoy your ice cream even more. Therefore, they have developed a patented massaging spoon designed to stimulate your tongue in order to achieve the optimal tasting experience. In addition to all this, Big Tom’s is ideally located with a patio overlooking a pretty little lake with a spectacular view of the 101. It is a great place to go to sit back, relax, and take in some sun.

(Unfortunately, I didn’t have our camera with me, so this is an “archives” photo)

On extra special days, Big Tom’s provides live entertainment. Usually, it is some local band or musician playing traditional or modern Chinese music. Sometimes, if we are lucky, the band will notice that there are foreigners in the audience so they will break out “I Will Always Love You” or some other cheesy American classic. We usually appreciate the effort and give them the approving smile and applause that they look for after their set.

This Sunday, however, we were in for a very special treat. As we staked out a table on the picturesque patio, we noticed that the band setting up was comprised of all foreigners. Encouraged that we might recognize some of their music, we decided to camp out a bit longer. When they did their sound check, we all perked up and looked at each other. Was that what I think it was? Was it really a Christian worship song? Sure enough, the band played their first song all about God’s love. We couldn’t believe it! With the help of a translator, they introduced themselves to the unsuspecting crowd as a group from all over the United States who was there simply to share God’s love with the people of Taiwan. We were thrilled. What better way to present the message of the Gospel than through music on a sunny afternoon at an ice cream shop? We stayed through a few songs but ultimately decided to give up our prime seats for some of the Taiwanese crowd that had begun to gather.

As we walked back to the car, we all commented on how pleasantly the day had turned out. We got some sun, we got some ice cream, we got our tongues massaged, and we got some worship music. What more can you ask for?

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.