It makes you wonder

(Those with an aversion to bad language or, more precisely, the bad use of bad language should skip this post.)

Okay, this was the view I was greeted with while eating my breakfast this morning. I knew I should have stuck with my original breakfast spot (despite the annoyances of lady who seems to believe it is her right to force me to teach English to her twin daughters.) Bigger than death. "Tit". This is the name of a posh new highrise somewhere in the city. And, to make things even worse, this is not even the only sign for it. I spotted another one up by the train station later in the day.

And, you know, where you have "T", you'd better have "A", right? This offering is from the traditional "wet market" at Nanmen, home of meat on slabs, live frogs the size of both your fists together (those're called "field chickens"), fish with their tails tied to their heads, and bin upon bin of unidentifiable, salty-smelling stuff to eat. Makes me want to pop open an icy cold can of "Pocari Sweat" (I am not making this up).




These aren't linguistically obscene, but if you think about the concept long enough, it kind of seems like it. Dog socks? Although half the dogs you see in Taipei are scruffy old streetwise mutts, while the other half are tiny drop-kick dogs who have been stuffed into the purse of some woman with suspiciously maroon hair, a short skirt, tights and high heels on, wearing (the dog, usually) an expression of "Kill me now."

And then, just to round things off, you have the nutters. The banner declares, "In this yearʻs election, Ma Ying-jeou will win. This is the Will of Heaven." The last line, which I canʻt make out from the picture, says something about some lesser political figure "who will be elected too." Since this was well after the Presidential election, I'm not really sure what the guy thought his role was.

I was awakened (not the contrast with "I work up", as waking up generally does not involve loud noises by a variety of drunken hostel guests returning at 7 am after a night's revelry) fairly early this morning and after breakfast decided to take advantage of the very good weather (not warm, not cold, not too sunny, not raining) to do some drawing at the traditional market on Taishun St, one of the places (there are just so many) I used to live. Not only was there a considerable amount of milling around to contend with, the weather kept changing every 15 seconds or so (now I know what "blowing hot and cold" really means!) and the vendors kept coming over to see what was going on when they were slack. At least they didn't want anything...it appears it may be necessary to find a new breakfast destination as the one lady there is pointedly suggesting that I could teach [insert name of child or acquaintance] here English. Um, not. Thank you.

I then thought it was a nice day to go to the CKS Memorial Hall, which has been re-named Democracy Square, but since it's the name of an MRT stop and several bus stops, not to mention a landmark for many years, I don't know of anyone using the new name yet. I walked up through the Yungkang St. corridor to Hsinyi Road and into the park. Sunday morning is evidently the day for Chinese opera wannabes to hook up with a few er-hu players and sing their lungs out in under those deeply echoing stone walkways, judging by the sound of it. None of the divas on display were exactly spring chickens, either. Thinking to escape from this cultural adventure, I went into the main square, only to find that it was filled with people dressed in navy blue and setting up hundreds of "Buddha Blessing Fig. Made in China". Yes, as those of you who can read Chinese can attest, it was apparently Buddha's Birthday. Naturally the locals chose to lead up to the celebration using multiple loudspeakers turned pretty much all the way up and getting the guy with the worst English available to do his mike checks by counting in Engrish.

Needless to say, another destination seemed like a good idea. Heading to Ren'ai Rd., I caught a bus across town to Tunhua Rd. and the Eslite Bookstore, thinking to get a travel guide for some daytrips. I didn't end up buying one just now but have my eye on one or two. I noticed by the time I got out of the bookstore that I was getting hungry, so I started to walk and look. The Tunhua/Chonghsiao area is a pretty trendy one, but aside from McDonald's it doesn't offer much in the line of food establishments with seating. Then it occurred to me -- it was time to visit the Sushi-Go-Round (not its real name!)

After walking about three miles underground (well, it seemed like it) through one of the most odiferous underground food courts on the face of the planet, I finally managed to find the actual MRT station (no help from the signage) and hop a train to Ximen. From there, it was only a few steps from the door to sushi heaven. The prices hadn't even increased: still NT$30 a plate, just take the plates off the conveyor belt as they go by, and have the girl count your plates at the end when you're ready to leave. They do provide some unusual sushi choices, such as corn sushi, but it's always a nice eat and particularly on weekends when they really have the conveyors full of different varieties. You can always order just what you want but it's nicer to wait until it comes around. This picture will probably get me deported if anyone at the Sushi-Go-Round has government connections -- there was always a sign up before "No Photography", although I didn't look for it today, just made darn sure the flash was turned off! Those are the plates loaded with goodies, coming down the long conveyer belt, with people sitting at a lunch-counter arrangement.

That left me in Ximending, so I thought I'd have a look around. Ximending is the playground for the teenybopper and 20-something set, with lots of boutique stores selling decorative junk, food stalls on wheels that flee before oncoming cops, and limited representation from beggars and people trying to collect money for their favorite cause, as well as interesting characters in general. A few of the above that stuck out:

This dapper gentleman is holding a banner that proclaims: "Ma Ying-jeou will be elected in this year's presidential election. This is the Will of Heaven. And Hau Lung-bin will be re-elected Mayor of Taipei." Since the elections are past, I'm not quite sure what his point is. Either he wants to avoid being all dressed up with no where to go, or else he always dresses this way anyway (after observing him for awhile, I could not possibly guess which is correct).

And here is the solution for those of you who hate their jobs: take a look at this guy. Yes, it's My-job-is-to-hold-up-this-sign Guy. Dressed appropriately for blistering Taipei sunshine in head-to-toe black, because you've got to be hip when you're holdin'. This is a fairly common sight these days as the weather gets better, with most of the signage touting either restaurants or new real estate projects. There was one this afternoon on Shita Road who was clearly bored out of his mind (strangely, some of them seem not to be!) and was performing all sorts of contortions to be able to look in any other direction than straight into oncoming traffic, which was where his sign had to be facing. Fortunately he was next to a playground so at least there were some people coming and going to keep him amused.

After this walk around, I figured it was time for a sit-down and a drink, so I got the 235 bus back to Shita Road and went into Vino Vino, a cafe with outdoor seating upstairs that looks down on the playground and park and out onto the road. Strangely it was not very crowded -- the weather really seemed ideal for sitting around drinking tea in the breeze. I had a cafe-priced glass of milk while drawing the action down below. None of the models felt like staying still for any extended period of time (should have drawn Sign Holding Man! he was within view).

I am still very tired from jet-lag, which never affected me this much in the past (I think it may have been having to keep set hours early on, with a videoconferenced interview at a terribly late hour). Sleeping "enough" doesn't do it -- it just takes time to work it out. Hopefully tomorrow I will feel more alert.

Shabu Shabu

I managed to meet up with Julia, who is up from Kaohsiung on yet another training session for her company. Although she had some difficulty finding the rendezvous point, and I had to wait for her for about twenty minutes, it afforded an excellent opportunity to see just how long the spandex-tights, spike-heeled sandals and hairdo from hell woman would leave her car illegally parked in front of the glasses store as she went in with her child and the others who continued to emerge from her Mercedes like clowns at the circus. (The precise answer is unknown, as she never did come out before I left with Julia.) And I tragically failed to get a picture of her as well.

Since it was raining by that point, we ducked into the fortuitously located "Every Day Cafe", which had been recommended anyway. Nothing wrong with the food or drink there -- but the woman does seem to subscribe to the "service with a snarl" credo. Admittedly it may have been because we were laughing over the "Almighty Juice" drink selection. As appealing as the idea of trying out its powers was, we settled for more mundane beverages. The place was totally empty so there wasn't a huge rush to get out, not that the presence of other paying customers who need to sit down while consuming their order ever motivates anyone in Taiwan to get a move on.

After awhile we decided to go over and bother Chris, who was predictably working at his favorite spot outside the Lumiere Cafe. The prices are rather high at this fine establishment, but it is still Chris' workplace of choice, probably because of the outdoor seating and the free internet. Julia read some books, I did some drawing and Chris droned on (he uses voice input) about smoking prevention plans in Taiwan. We then decided to eat hotpot, not really because the weather is a bit cool but more because Julia and I generally eat hotpot when I can talk her into it. The problem was that there were no hotpot restaurants in the area of the cafe. The one we had formerly gone to all the time is now gone, along with the venerable tiebanshao shop next door. We eventually settled on the one on Roosevelt Rd. by Pucheng St. and Julia and I jumped into a cab to beat Chris and his bicycle there (but only by a nose).

Hotpot used to be a group thing where you had one big conical vessel in the middle of a round table with a heat source under it, and everyone dropped bits of food into the boiling broth to cook their own, picking things out with chopsticks. The thing these days is the Japanese individual hotpots called "shabu shabu". You get a big plate with all sorts of things on it -- several types of cabbage, bits of beancurd stuff, vegetables, mushrooms, a slice of ginger -- and order some sort of meat to go with it. Usually it's thin-sliced chicken or beef. I am a great aficionado of fish dumpings, so I got two sets of those to go with my shabu shabu (and a good thing it was, too, as Chris managed to dump fully half of them into his pot in his attempt to take two or three. Claims it was an accident. Yeah, right. With fishy dumplings there are no accidents of that kind.)

Beer Festival

No, it's not a traditional Taiwanese holiday, but for those readers who have suffered through the "Beer Story", it might interest you to know that it is currently "Beer Festival" (pIjiu jiE) at a local chain of convenience stores. Yep, buy three cans of imported beer and get 21% off! (I have no idea how they come up with these things.) You'll notice from the picture that Chinese discount language is "backwards" to what we use in English -- they express the percentage of the price that is remaining, so where it says 79, that means 21% off.

Today was officially Hotter Than Heck. Since I was up until nearly 3 last night between jet-lag and getting onto the topic of "What's the best way to learn Chinese" with some aspiring language students in the lounge of the hostel, I didn't manage to get up until nearly 10 (which is actually a good thing in terms of making the time change). I had breakfast at my favorite place, which may have to change as the ladies there are set on fixing me up with English students, which is about the last thing I want at this point. I also finally managed to catch up with my friend Laura of cello fame and arrange to go out to their house at 4 to play some music. That, consequently, left me with a few hours to kill and nothing in particular to do except finish up a portion of the translation from yesterday. So, logically, I ducked into a tea house.

The place was empty when I started, but at five minutes past twelve, as though someone had let the stopper out of the bathtub, hordes of students from the university started pouring in. It got so crowded that two of them actually had to -- gasp! -- sit at the same table with the foreigner! Actually they must have gotten to like it, or like watching someone draw, as they didn't move when they were eventually offered other seating. They had their lunch as I nursed a pearl milk tea along and drew the scene across the street.


The part you can't see in this painting is the owner, who kept coming back periodically on her bicycle and hopping off to give both woks a stir, then ride away again. Since the locals were saying she didn't start doing business until evening, it's anyone's guess what she was actually doing. I don't know much about Malaysian food so I really couldn't say. These temporary-looking street stands under the tarps have been here as long as I can remember and never seem to go away. At night, everything loose or movable is piled under the tarp and the front closed down. It seems to be some honor system going. I've seen tables in the underground market at the MRT station with the merchandise laid out and covered with a cloth secured to the four sides of the table with clips and left there all day long if the seller wasn't going to do business that day (not that people here take many days off, that's for sure.)

How to Get Work

The sun is out and things are finally drying up on the island. To start out, a bit of tropical greenery in the concrete jungle of the maze-like area around Jinjiang St where I'm staying. Potted plants are quite popular around here, particularly "parking plants", which are obnoxiously large and heavy plants that people who own first-floor apartments tend to drag out into the street to reserve "their" parking spots.

If you're ever thinking you aren't getting any work as a freelancer, the fix is obviously to go to another country and pretend you're not going to work for awhile. Worked like a charm for me. Not only do I have a medical article on surgical repairs of pediatric cardiac defects on my virtual desk, there's that other job I can't mention or I'd have to kill whoever reads this, plus more. It's fortunate there's so little (or no) work to be done at this point with my student on her thesis.

I also had the unenviable task of trying to get the Post Office to cough up my money today. First I had to deal with the fact that I didn't seem to have the appropriate passbook. Okay, a few forms later (and inexplicably having the woman waiting on me call other patrons to her window while I was standing there -- another attack of Foreigner Transparency, obviously) I had a shiny new passbook with the correct balance written in it. Then it was time to get a new ATM card. The woman seemed nearly ready to faint with disbelief that anyone could manage to misplace both (apparently she has never lived abroad for a period of years between accesses to her accounts) but did eventually put the application through (pick it up in four days -- with the weekend who knows just what that means?) I thought I'd withdraw some cash, but thought better of it and decided to return in the afternoon on my way home, instead of carrying it around all day. Although Taiwan is a pretty safe place, I have had a friend who put a pair of shorts into the laundry forgetting there was a couple thousand US dollars equivalent in one of the pockets (he'd just gotten paid) -- surprisingly for Taiwan, where most people I've met are very honest, he never saw it again.

I am officially disillusioned to find that the authorities at the National Taiwan Normal University have taken the NT dollars of Big Business and replaced the venerable whatever-its-name-was cafe on the ground floor of the Union Building (home of the old Mandarin Training Center way back when) with a chain-store bakery, put a convenience store in next door to it, and totally kicked out the old Lucky Bookstore. The Lucky did turn up across the street (no more inspiring than ever in its offerings, but it seemed like a shame for it to be gone). I checked out the textbook display only to find (what a surprise) that nothing has changed, for the most part. I doubled back through the Shita night market area (much easier to walk through by day) where I spied the...whatever it is in the photo. Note the huge "bitter melon" parked on top of the machine (in front of the cab, looks kinda like a watermelon only it's about three feet long, although you can't see that). This was in use on a construction site. Either they're going to have a huge improbable lunch or this guy just doesn't know where to put his produce.

I was going to head up to the Big Round Building near the train station (that's how we foreigners give directions here, by geometry and landmarks) where there is a pretty comprehensive art store, in the hopes of getting a sketchbook with some decent watercolor paper in it, but I got sidetracked into McDonald's on Roosevelt Road because of the heat. Remind me -- was I complaining about the rain yesterday? Because now it's hotter than heck. I opted for a giant iced tea and gave Chris a call on the cell. He surprised me by turning up within a couple of minutes -- apparently he was in the area. I was then subjected to a bone-jarring ride on the back of his bicycle (hee hee -- it's a girls' bike! Guess he's confident in his masculinity?) to a pseudo-Thai restaurant off Shita Road. In my defense, there were much shorter routes to take!

After lunch, I headed back home and stopped off to make my withdrawal at the Post Office. Unfortunately, the nice lady who had helped me this morning had departed for parts unknown, leaving me with an unsmiling woman who insisted that the signature was not mine, and suspected roundly and loudly that something was strange because the passbook had been re-issued this morning. After awhile, I managed to extract some cash from them, headed home for a rest, then went to meet Chris for a little translational entertainment at his favorite cafe, Lumiere, near National Taiwan University. Where, by the way, I still sit at the moment (11:30 at night here) with an unfinished medical article on my screen. Which could use some attention about now...

Here's a sketch of an interesting little temple that still clings to existence sandwiched in between increasingly high buildings. It's not really clear what it's dedicated to or who takes care of it; you don't see old men sitting around it like you do many of the other temples, but it's still hanging on despite the encroachment of urban development and the MRT right under its feet. Not to mention an endless procession of trucks parking in front of it.

Back on the Island (or, Vote me off, will ya?)

So, after way too many years of residence before, I'm back on the lovely island of Taiwan for about a month for business purposes which admittedly probably could be accomplished in a day or two (in the States) or maybe a week (here, assuming that various and sundry laws and regulations have probably changed and who knows what documents I'll need to produce.)

There are a lot of really big, really shiny, really new buildings around. Heck, I remember when the Taipower Building on Roosevelt Road was the tallest thing on the whole island -- what is it, 13 floors I think? It's still there as far as I know, but I'm sure it's feeling a bit inferior these days.

The weather is immediately cooperating in reminding me why no one wants to be here in May: the "plum rains" are at it as usual. It alternately dripped and poured all day, only letting up about seven or eight in the evening. Of course this means that one Needs An Umbrella Now, which in turn means dropping NT$199 at 7-11, instead of sensibly getting one at a mom-and-pop store for about half that much. But rain has a way of getting your attention if you're being deluged with it.

Of course the locals already had appropriate raingear deployed:


I got in about 5:30 in the morning, and was in Taipei by 8:00 (the intervening time having been gobbled up by Immigration formalities, nodding to the nice Customs agents as I breezed by without opening my luggage, finding the highway bus office, perversely speaking Taiwanese to buy the ticket (down that way, they don't even blink, which is nice for a change!) and then riding the big green bus through Nankang on the way to the highway north. Nankang certainly isn't up to much. In fact, the only reason anyone took that bus was that a) it was discounted and b) there wasn't another one that didn't go through Nankang until around 9:00. That's marketing you can't fail to listen to.

Having called the hostel owner from the airport, as the Web site asked, naturally no one was there when I showed up on time as arranged. I waited for about half an hour and finally called her again. Oh -- silly me -- I was supposed to go downstairs and find some Western guy I'd never heard of and wake him up to check me in. Once that was disclosed, things moved more quickly.

I had a meeting scheduled for 10:30 with the MA student for whose defense I am here, so there was just about time for breakfast before meeting her. At least the breakfast place I favor is still in business. You forget that soybean milk actually has flavor, living in the US.

The bulk of the day was spent wandering around the area near the train station, in hopes of getting a cell phone going. I have service on my T-Mobile phone from the US, but I can only imagine what the bill would look like if I used that over here, so my first stop was the FarEasTone office, where they quite efficiently relieved me of NT$500 (about $17) and presented me with a SIM card. I plopped it into my Treo and was good to go. Unfortunately none of the cell phone companies I've checked with has any clue that those who are in Taiwan for a short-term stay might just like mobile Internet -- all the GPRS modem plans require a two-year contract and have an early cancellation penalty the size of the disappearing Papua New Guinea diplomatic monies. (Which, for those of you who don't follow Taiwan politics, is a considerable sum, according to the papers.) So that is an issue that requires further consideration.

There are some new faces on the scene (at least new to me, compared to my last visit in 2006): Coldstone Creamery up by the train station (I've seen two thus far), a Mr. Donut right on Roosevelt Road, a Dunkin' Donuts on Chonghsiao W. Road. Scary stuff. The Big Mac index seems to be holding fairly steady at about $110 for a combo meal (no, I didn't eat there, but one has to keep abreast of economic developments, and I'll need pictures for class of course.)

I had forgotten how "special" I was when I lived in Taiwan. No, not short-bus special; I mean just having that little something extra that makes over-friendly locals who have actually set foot in the United States once feel that they should be my best friend, preferably in broken English. Any attempts to actually price a 3.5g wireless modem were cut short by one of this breed. You don't want to be mean to these folks, but how many times can I ask him what he just said before he figures out that his English is incomprehensible (and I taught English at a vocational high school here, which says something about what I normally can decipher).

After a trip back to the room for a bit of a rest, I headed over to the Shita Night Market area for some dinner around 8:30. Sadly, many of my favorite places to eat have finally given up. Many of them held on for a decade or more, so I can't really complain, but the loss of my favorite tiebanshao joint is something of a blow, not to mention the departure of the perennial "laoban" at the jiaozi stand on the corner. I was surprised that many of the employees in the places I did go to had not left (at least those who are older than college age) and actually recognized me, which is kind of scary if you think about it. Don't patronize a store for two years and then be met with "Long time since you've been in"?

The night market hasn't lost any of its popularity, judging from the crowds strolling through it. Just the place to get some spiffy new bra straps. Yes, that entire wall is covered with nothing but bra straps. Every color and pattern you could ever want. Strangely they did not seem to be doing a roaring trade. Maybe things pick up when the weather gets a bit hotter, or when the rain lets off. There were also the usual displays of clothing and jewelry, mostly hunkered in front of a tiny restaurant storefront on a strip of street maybe two feet wide, usually under the drip from the overhangs.

Other than that, business as usual. Crowded, mostly with students from the university. Here's the scene at the itinerant stuffed-animal vendor. Since most folks who sell things on the street do not have a license to do so, they display their wares in folding cases that can be taken down rapidly, or on a simple piece of canvas with ties at all four corners. The minute the word is passed down the street that the police are going to stop by, the entire street clears of vendors within seconds as if by magic. Granted the cops don't try too hard to find them (one sweep of the alley next to the street would net enough fine income to keep the precinct in beer for a month) but the important thing was that they (looked like they) were doing their job.