Mary Poppins

So, I finally got the guts up (or maybe I just lost enough couth) to get some video evidence of one of our favorite early morning exercisers in the park. We have named him Mary Poppins because we think he looks like he belongs in the Chimney Sweep song accompanying ol' Dick Van Dyke. He comes out just about every morning doing variations of this. There was a short time at the beginning of the school year where he seemed to be teaching an exercise class to some of the elderly people who congregated in the park. Sadly, to the misfortune of everyone, this class was canceled due to lack of interest. I apologize in advance for the low quality video but, you get what you pay for people.

We also have a new addition to the morning crazies. This gentleman climbs some stairs that lead to the top of a hill on the edge of the park. He then commences to yell as loudly as he can for as long as he can. He then takes about five steps to his left where he yells again, as loudly as he can for as long as he can. He does this for the entire length of the park. Placing himself on top of the hill puts him at just enough of a distance to make the yelling more hysterical than obnoxious. Thank you, Taiwan, for always making my mornings interesting.

The Best Prom Night Ever

By: Coach

For any coach or player the most exciting part about playing a sport is the tournament. I can still remember the excitement and drama of the state final four a few years ago. Every practice was crucially important; each day would bring a tension that you could not ignore. The same is true for the teams at GCA. The big difference is that here that is pretty much ALL we have to look forward to. In our league there are no season records or standings. You can contact other schools for games but they mean absolutely nothing in regards to the end of the year results. In the States a team will play anywhere from 20 to 30 real games before any type of elimination begins. If your team does not fair well in post season play it usually is not the end of the world because you have a lot of season memories and (hopefully) wins to hang your hat on. For our basketball team this year the weekend of the tournament was a lot like a high school prom. Allow me to explain.

Prom is arguably the most anticipated event for the senior class and many hours go into the planning, purchasing, tanning and stressing. Many seniors start planning who they will go to the prom with at the start of school! The build-up for this monumental (and at the same time utterly pointless) night is overbearing for most high-schoolers. The night comes and goes and memories are made, pictures are taken, rugs are cut and many a Waffle House makes their quota. Then comes the morning after. I distinctly remember what I mumbled to myself as I rolled out of bed that Saturday after the big night. “That was it?”

Our trip this year to our “Big Dance” (pun intended) was about 6 hours. One way. In rinky dink school vans. Sound like fun? Did I mention that in the past when we make this trip we sleep on the gym floor on Friday to save money? Oh I forgot that 3 other teams would be doing the same! This would mark my 3rd time to the south of the island and believe me I was about as thrilled as Walter Matthau would be to sleep on a hard gym floor once again. Our first game was scheduled for 5:30 Friday night against a team I have never faced but our school is 1-0 all time against them so we were hoping to have history on our side. Let’s just say that we are now 1-1 and more than likely trailing badly in point differential. Following our loss I remember thinking, “This is what we have been waiting to experience? A long, ipodless ride where I can only fall asleep long enough to lose the feeling in my legs because of the cramped space. We get pounded by a local team that will enjoy the comfort of their own beds. On the other hand not only will I lose sleep over losing (which I do no matter where I sleep) I get to lose sleep in the very gym where we suffered the loss! Is this is a cruel joke?”

Right then I must have felt like the guy who gets rejected when he asks his crush to prom. Maybe it was like the poor soul who spills punch all over his tuxedo, or even worse, on his date with the bright yellow dress. That’s when something magical and unexpected happened. I was informed that my assistant coach, my players and I would NOT be staying at the gym that night. Our principal had found a hotel that was “reasonable” and so off we went to check into our new quarters. I have to admit, I was not expecting anything amazing so when we arrived I was more than shocked. This hotel was, as my wife likes to say, “A Big Deal” and as I say, “The Real Deal”. Our rooms were on the 28th floor overlooking the city lights of Kaoshiung. Our pool and Jacuzzi were on the 8th floor where we decided to have a pizza party. The principal’s husband who is also the school chancellor volunteered to take all of the boys to a night market so the coaches could have some cool down time before we went to bed. I was able to catch an NBA game on the TV right after I watched the thrilling end of “Prom Night”, which I don’t recommend, but had to share because of the irony. It is safe to say that the tournament went from being dreadful to the best I have experienced. It is amazing what a 5 star hotel will do for morale! Winning the next day also helped but at any rate it was one of my most memorable tournaments. Our school here in Taiwan does not have a prom. In my mind, it does not need one.

Defining Amerinese

This probably will not come as a shock to you, but, the Chinese food that we enjoy at local “Chinese” restaurants in the States is not exactly authentic. Not everything comes fried and drenched in sweet and sour sauce and we have yet to find a local restaurant that serves egg rolls. As far as I know, General Tsao never existed and, if he did, I am pretty sure that he didn’t trademark any chicken recipes. No one we’ve met over here has ever heard of a fortune cookie, let alone expects one at the end of each meal. I’m sorry if I have broken anyone’s hearts, but it is my job to give you the truth.

Just as Americans have our versions of cuisines from around the world, so Taiwan offers quite a sampling of their interpretations of international foods. Since we consider ourselves somewhat experts in the area, we would like to critique Taiwan’s version of American food, the hybrid Amerinese cuisine. These fusion delights range from slightly quirky to downright bizarre and never fail to entertain our sense of humor, but not always our taste buds.

Every Thursday at our school, our chef prepares a buffet of Amerinese specialties. Bearing the slight misnomer of “American food day”, Thursdays are always a highly anticipated day for the students, but met with skepticism from the teachers. When we see that fried chicken has been prepared, we sigh with relief that pretty much no one can mess up fried chicken. Hot dogs or pizza, on the other hand, have us running for the doors. Though they are made of dubious material in the States, I actually rather enjoy a good hot dog now and then. But, the Taiwanese version is a bit… different. Instead of being juicy and savory, this tubular mystery meat is rather dry and has a sweet tang to it that I find quite disagreeable. Top that with a sweet and sour version of ketchup and you can count me out.

Pizza, even at Pizza Hut or Domino’s, is always an interesting experience. We learned very quickly to order strictly from Pizza Hut as we found that there was something amiss with the cheese at Domino’s. While the big restaurants do offer traditional toppings like pepperoni, their menus are also filled with items like shrimp, scallops, and squid. Don’t get me wrong, I like seafood, but when it is perched atop sketchy mozzarella and tomato sauce, I am not a fan. The most infamous toppings that we’ve seen were served during one of our “American” days at school. The only thing that we can figure is that the chef was inspired by Hawaiian toppings when he decided that it would be a good idea to cut up the strange hot dogs and peaches for our enjoyment. Yummy.

Another one of our highlights (or should I say lowlights?) is potato salad. I’m not sure what experiences our chef has had with potato salad, but whatever they were, I’m surprised he survived them. You know how there are certain dishes that you can throw in whatever you have in the fridge and it still turns out okay? Maybe chili or a stew of some sort? Our chef seems to think that potato salad is a logical place for the week’s leftovers. We’ve had everything from the aforementioned peaches to maraschino cherries and even rainbow sprinkles. Yes, sprinkles. Trust me; I am not creative enough to make this up.

I don’t blame Taiwan for putting their own spin on some of our classic dishes. After all, we do it to their food as well and the Chinese have been cooking millennia before we ever came along. But, I still think I will enjoy dumplings over here and wait until this summer’s Stateside jaunt before putting my full faith into a hot dog.

Christmas in China

Vacations are somewhat of a mixed bag when it comes to blogging. They often supply so many stories, it is difficult to select the very best ones that will not only entertain the reader, but also summarize the week’s experiences and activities in a neat, little, blog-ready package. Wrapping up our trip to China in such a way seemed a bit daunting to me at first. How do you reduce the experience of trekking through one of the oldest civilizations in the world to a few quippy paragraphs? We toyed with a few ideas as to how to go about our overwhelming task and I decided to pick one of the more quintessential days and describe it for you. I hope that in this way, you will get an idea for a day in the life of a foreigner in China. Since our trip took place over December 25, what better day to describe than Christmas day?

In planning our trip to the Mainland, we anticipated a bit of gloom to hang over us on Christmas day since we would find ourselves sans family to celebrate the holiday. So, with the goal of preventative maintenance, we planned a tour to take us to the Great Wall on the 25^th. Our tour guide came and picked us up around 8:00 and we were off. On the way to the Wall, we made a few stops at the burial sites for the Emperors where our tour guide gave an impressively concise oration on the uprisings and downfalls of all the different dynasties and their leaders. We were also taken to a jade factory, a cloison factory, and a silk manufacturer. Of course at each stop, our guide made sure that we had ample opportunities to commemorate our trip to China in the maze-like gift shops. Chris and I decided to give in to the pressure at the jade factory where we bought a souvenir / Christmas gift for each other. Lunchtime was an interesting affair as various steaming plates were delivered to our table per a pre-determined menu. The most interesting element was the bottle of 112 proof rice wine given to us as a gift of appreciation. Didn't see that coming. So, our bellies full, we were finally off to the Wall.

It probably doesn’t surprise you to learn that there are actually several different places where one can visit the Great Wall. So, as we drove to the portion we chose, the snaking wall could be seen all over the side of the road juxtaposing the two cross-millennial highways. Our tour guide informed us that the cable car that usually runs to the top of the wall was not running since it was the slack season. Instead, we would be offered “sleds” to take us halfway to the top of our particular location. Not really knowing what to expect, we agreed to the sleds rather than hiking a few hours in the subzero temperatures. The “sleds” certainly did not disappoint. We were welcomed to the Great Wall of China by brightly colored cars on a roller coaster-style track gliding their passengers to a pre-designated point on the Wall. Reassuring ourselves that we were not, in fact, at Disney World, we exited the Great Wall roller coaster and began the rest of the ascent to the top.

You may recall from our “Cup of Tea” blog, things rarely turn out the way I plan them, especially when we are abroad. I had this wonderful picture in my head where Chris and I would don Santa hats and skip cheerfully about the Wall spreading our Christmas cheer to the tourists and Great Wall memorabilia hawkers. Unfortunately, the frigid temperatures and gusting winds sapped a bit of our Christmas spirit. We snapped a few photos, shoved our hands in our pockets and faces in our jackets and marched to the top. Wincing as we removed our warm winter hats to replace them with Santa’s seemingly meager getup, we went to take THE picture. Ideal photo attempts were thwarted when we saw that the cold temperatures had sapped the camera battery and it was dead! Not ready to give in too easily, we braved the wind gales at the top of the Wall for a few extra minutes as we warmed the battery in our gloves. Ready once again for the shot, we made our best attempt at looking warm and happy, took the picture, and ran as fast as our numb legs would carry us back to a more covered location on the Wall to shelter us from the wind. Muttering through chattering teeth about the incredible thing we were witnessing, we decided that we had witnessed as much as we could before frostbite set in. So, we set our eyes back on the roller coaster that would guide us back down the hill and bring us a few steps closer to the car and the heat inside it.

We had been planning all trip that we would experience the famed Peking Duck (a specialty of Beijing) for our Christmas dinner. After sufficiently warming up after the Great Wall excursion, we decided it was time to eat. We had a restaurant in mind and we had our hotel write the name and address in Chinese to give to a taxi driver. After finally hailing a cab (which turned out to be more of a feat than we expected), we handed him the address. Explaining something about the address, we told him (I think) to just take us as close as he could. Well, take us somewhere he did. Where the restaurant was, we will never know. We wandered around the area asking directions from various English-speaking and non-English-speaking strangers for about 45 minutes. Thoroughly disheartened from hunger and cold, we finally stumbled upon a restaurant boasting the Beijing specialty. Though it wasn’t the restaurant we had planned, it was there and they had duck, so we didn’t care. After being led to a table and pointing to duck on the menu, we were informed that it takes 44 (not 45) minutes to prepare the duck, were we willing to wait? We figured that we had gone through enough to get there, what were 44 more minutes? So, wait we did. And I am to inform you that Peking duck is most definitely worth the wait. The chef came out with the duck on a board and proceeded to expertly carve the duck, shaving off bits of roasted skin along the way. Our waiter demonstrated the best way to wrap the slivers of duck with the right proportions of duck sauce, garlic, and vegetables in paper thin pancakes. The piece de resistance, however, was when the waiter instructed us to dip the skin into sugar and then into blueberry sauce. Fatty skin and sugar, what’s not to like?

Rolling out of the restaurant, we hailed a taxi and were taken directly back to the hotel, something that we definitely didn’t take for granted. We decided that it was a very merry Christmas indeed and we looked forward to the rest that Beijing was to offer us.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

This picture of Taipei's drivers was the Wall Street Journal's photo of the day back in October. I think you get the idea.

Motorists crowd at a junction during rush hour in Taipei October 29, 2009. There are around 8.8 million motorcycles and 4.8 million cars on Taiwan’s roads and nearly all motor vehicles and inhabitants are squeezed into a third of the island’s area.

A Cup of Tea

This past weekend, Chris and I have had the pleasure of playing host. Not being able to go home for Christmas this year, my parents decided to bring Christmas to Taipei and pay us a visit. It was a whirlwind weekend jam packed with all kinds of cultural experiences. Some were new to us (like Snake Alley – in a blog to come) and some were activities we have deemed essential to the Taiwanese experience (like ascending to the top of the world’s tallest building). But, if I’ve learned one thing during our time abroad, it is that the best cultural experiences are the ones that you don’t plan.

One such encounter began on Sunday afternoon. Chris and I had heard a lot about an area just outside of Taipei known for its hillside tea plantations. This district boasts scores of teahouses dotting the mountainside offering a wide range of locally grown tea and an array of accompanying victuals. With a spectacular view of the city, the best time to visit these plantations was supposed to be at night in order to take in the lights of Taipei. Figuring that there was no better time to drop in on these teahouses than when we had guests, we searched out a “good” house and set out on our way.
Having to wait for quite a while for the bus to come to take us up the mountain, I started to question my decision to lead my parents off into unknown territory. The bus finally did arrive, however, and we started up the mountain. I use the term “bus” loosely as our vehicle was actually closer to a twelve passenger van since the narrow, zig-zagging hillside roads often could only accommodate one vehicle at a time. Our driver steered and swerved his way up the hill, deftly asserting his bus authority in an incessant game of chicken. Meanwhile, a friendly English-speaking passenger informed us that the Maokong area was very large so if we gave the address of the teahouse to the driver, he could take us directly there. So, at an opportune time when I didn’t see any cars heading for a head-on collision, I handed the address in Chinese to the driver. I was then told by the same English speaker that the driver was not familiar with the address so we would have to find another teahouse.

As we discussed our options, some locals jumped on the bus and the driver started talking to them. Having been informed of our plight, a gentleman seated behind me started handing me business cards and telling me all about different teahouses in the area. I’m sure that his descriptions were informative and very helpful. Not speaking Chinese, however, all I heard was, “Blah blah drink tea blah blah. Blah blah you can see Taipei blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah.” Seeing as how drinking tea was really the only essential component, we figured we would trust our new friend to show us this teahouse. My dad remarked that he was probably taking us to his brother-in-law’s place, but we didn’t really care.

Stopping at the selected house, the friendly gentleman escorted us inside the establishment where he promptly announced that he was, in fact, the owner. Amused but not surprised, we sat down and viewed our surroundings. The walls were festooned with silhouettes of various types of monsters and cats – something we still haven’t quite figured out – and Bach played softly in the background. The waiter came presented us menus offering everything from Doritos to lasagna. We made our choices and, of course, selected the tea we would drink. The waiter brought it out and demonstrated the proper way to sniff and sip the infusion. We were a bit surprised at the Barbie-sized thimbles we were supposed to use to drink our tea, but we decided just to roll with it. While the dining room did provide a beautiful view of the lights of Taipei, we all agreed that the best view was one floor up from the roof-top squatty potties. After tea time, we hailed another “bus” to go back down the mountain. We held on for dear life as our driver zipped down the road, this time with the aide of gravity behind us.

As we settled in to our seats on the subway back home, we all decided that though the teahouse wasn’t exactly as we had planned, we preferred it that way.

Hong Kong: A Tummy's Perspective

Last year, Chris and I spent Thanksgiving seeing the sights of Hong Kong. When an opportunity for a cheap weekend jaunt presented itself, we decided to repeat the experience with some friends. This new tradition seems fitting to us as Hong Kong arguably has the best food in all of Asia. So, it makes sense to spend this gluttonous American holiday there. We arrived Thursday night with empty bellies and high expectations. And, I will say, Hong Kong did not disappoint.

For our first meal, we stumbled into a restaurant that our friend had heard about and came highly recommended. The small dining room was packed with locals and the wait staff spoke neither English nor Mandarin, since the language spoken in Hong Kong is Cantonese. While a bit daunting at first, these are actually really good signs that point to good, local food. Luckily, there was some English on the menu and it was very simple: a choice of various meats served over rice. When our steaming plates arrived, all conversation came to a reverant halt as we dug into roast duck, pork, and chicken. We silently tore into crispy, glazed skin and meat, carefully dodging bits of bone that remind you that your meal was alive a few short hours ago. Finishing off with the perfectly cooked rice, conversation slowly returned to the tables. Satisfied, we explored the neighborhood around our hotel before calling it a night.

I have found that, especially when it comes to traditional local food, simplicity is the key. Our next food experience proved this to be true. With our tummies rumbling once again, we went in search of good, Cantonese food. The main street flashed neon signs advertising everything from fettuccine alfredo to lamb gyros. Since we were neither in Italy nor Greece, we decided to head onto one of the side streets to see what we could find. We followed our noses to an open door with delectable aromas wafting out. A line of hungry locals waited their turn outside the small restaurant. Stepping into place, we waited our turn as the smells tickled our noses and enticed our tummies. Patrons were led in as seating became available, one or two at a time. When two chairs opened up at someone's table, we sat down next to a couple of slurping strangers and were handed a menu of four different soups. We pointed to which ones we wanted and a few minutes later, two steaming bowls appeared. The tantalizing scents that had been tempting us for the past several minutes materialized into soft shrimp wantons and chewy yellow noodles swimming in a broth that can only be described as heavenly. The only sounds that could be heard in the dining room were soft slurps and sips interrupted only by loud calls from the waitresses calling in orders to the kitchen staff and directing customers to the newly opened seats. There was also the occasional yummy noise that was unable to be suppressed by an enchanted diner. Reluctantly swallowing the last sip, we asked for the check in a post-soup euphoric daze. The only thing that was able to snap us back to reality was the shock we experienced when we realized that this celestial repast set us back all of $4.

The best meal, however, we saved for last. This climactic approach, while poetic, was entirely unintentional. Chris and I discovered this Hong Kong speciality last year and have longed for it ever since. So, as soon as we landed in Hong Kong, we were on the prowl for dim sum. Dim sum is a Cantonese specialty and consists of a variety of buns and dumplings filled with all sorts of savory and sweet treasures. As it turned out, dim sum was much harder to find than we would have liked. After much wandering and asking around, we finally found a restaurant specializing in this delicacy. The smiling waitress poured our tea into thimble-sized porcelain cups and offered us the encyclopedic menu. Selecting a few favorites as well as some new, adventurous options, we sat back and waited for the food to arrive. Each dish is brought to your table in a bamboo steaming basket and contains three to four buns or dumplings. As with the more traditional Thanksgiving meal, everyone has their specific dish that is their favorite. Following his Southern roots, Chris' preferred treat is the steamed bar-be-cue pork buns. These are steamed bread stuffed with pockets of pork cooked in a slightly spicy, slightly sweet sauce. I agree that they are, indeed, scrumptious. However, in my book, nothing beats the egg custard buns. Again, these are steamed bread but they are filled with a creamy, buttery, sugared custard that drips down your chin as you bite into them. While nothing will ever be able to hold a candle to Mom's turkey and dressing, Hong Kong's dim sum can sure come awfully close.

So, we hope that you enjoyed Thanksgiving and have all recovered from your tryptophan-induced comas. From our Thanksgiving, we would like to offer our humble advice. If ever you are driving down the road and see a sign offering Cantonese style Chinese food, stop. It will be worth your while.