Wild Taiwan

The Taipei Zoo rocks my life. It is only about 10 times better than any American zoo I have been too. I usually end up scanning some lame habitat from behind smudgy plexiglas for a zonked out animal that’s so far away I couldn't distinguish if it was real or not.

For starters, the admission fee was two bucks a person--I almost felt guilty it was so inexpensive. Second, the Taipei Zoo is a habitat that you simply cannot beat. It's cut out of the jungle and the line between the natural landscape and the animal's enclosures is so blurred there is no clear distinction where one begins and the other ends. Also, the confinements are designed in a way that there is almost always a good view of whatever animal is on display, and because the habitat is so conducive and natural, the animals are extremely active. Only one or two sleepers this visit! 

Like I said, the animals were extremely active; we even caught the rhinos mating. Hehe.

The elephants thought very highly of us.

This was the cutest little baby monkey. He was pretty shy at first.

'Till mama monkey caught a butterfly. Tasty.

The winged snack attracted cousin monkey.

And baby really wanted a bite.

Following our visit to the zoo we went on a "gondola ride" not to be confused with strapping Italian men in striped shirts. It was more or less a tram that took us from the city to the top of a mountain-side village.

We opted for the "crystal" tram which had a glass base. It offered great views of the bamboo. Most exciting.

Taipei from a distance. 

Nekked Amas.

The past two days have been a much needed break from the Taiwanese city overload. I was having a difficult time acclimating to the climate, time change, and food which left me in a constant state of mild nausea, but we have been getting out of the city and I feel tons better.  

Yesterday we rented bikes at our apartment complex and took a trail that boarders the river to the neighboring town Danshui. It was such a relief to ride under the shade of thick overgrowth and be able to breathe fresh air without the fear of triggering my gag reflex.

Danshui is only 3 miles away and has had a lot of recent development. The city is fairly well planned and has some interesting modern architectural elements mixed among the ancient.

We parked our bikes along the river in an area that is similar to a carnival where the restaurants sell fried Taiwanese “fair food” and the booths offer cheap thrills (balloon pops and prizes—that type of thing). The main attraction is this “shuaige” (handsome man—even though he’s kind of ugly) who does ice cream tricks. He thinks he is hot stuff, and although he may not be, he was very entertaining.

We explored a few temples and hidden alleys and stumbled upon interesting antique shops. I’m a big fan of Danshui. It has sidewalks.

Today was also an excellent day. Britton and Chris had to register for classes, so we took the 45 minute subway ride to their university which mercifully had a waffle hut on campus. So random, but so appreciated. It was 5 minutes of Nutella, bananas, and funky tasting waffles that I wouldn’t trade for the world.

At the registration office Heather accidentally told the gal who was helping students fill out paper work that she and I were married. It was the first language mishap of the trip but it was pretty funny.

We then jumped back on the subway, backtracked past home and then some, boarded a bus, and rode to the north part of the island to the ocean. It was one of my first looks at untouched Taiwan and it was beautiful. Mountains sharp and jagged as shark’s teeth jutted through the terrain but were softened by a blanket of heavy tropical greenery. The bus stopped less and less as we progressed and the small beach towns grew further and further apart. Our stop came and we were immediately greeted by the salty sticky ocean wind on our skin. The water was warm and the blue green expanse was a sight for sore eyes. 

 

After we got back to our apartment building we decided to give the swimming pools a whirl. In addition to a lap pool there are other shallow pools used for healing and health purposes. One has huge showerhead like pipes that spray out streams of water with the force of a fire hose. People get beat to death under it but claim it feels like a massage. I gave it a try and could hardly breathe it was jarring my lungs so badly. There are also semi-circle alcoves with jets, a whirlpool, saunas, and an area with slightly submerged metal plates to lay on that shoot out streams of air.

After feeling adventurous and revitalized by being pounded with a combination of air streams and water, we decided to complete our “healing” experience in the natural hot springs.

Apparently its ancient tradition or something, but the spring pools are to be absorbed nude—a spa for the men and a spa for the women. I was not on board with the whole naked idea, so the guy overseeing the pool assured us that if we wanted to keep our swimsuits on, we could. Heather and I didn’t make it far into the spa before our retinas got burnt out by old ama’s naked bodies. They stared us down, and said something angrily in Chinese and pointed to our swimsuits. We got the point and chickened out. It was clear who ran the show in there, and it wasn’t the pool guy or us.

First Impressions

This is one of those blog entries where I simply don’t know where to begin. I have been under such intense culture shock and have had so many new experiences in the last three days that there is too much to cover. I suppose I will begin with my initial impressions of Taiwan and go from there.

It was past midnight by the time Chris and I got into our apartment on Friday. We were tired, stinky, and hot from so much travel. We got settled and into bed by 4:00 a.m. and I was really looking forward to sleeping in since I spent the previous night in a hard upright chair wedged against a cold airplane wall. Chris was so excited to go outside and reconnect with his “home land” that he woke me up at 5:45 and told me it was 8:00 so I wouldn’t put up a fight (smart man). I didn’t know any better and didn't guess otherwise because the people are up as early as the sun.

The moment I stepped outside the comfort of our de-humidified apartment I was hit with two things—first a really bad smell followed by a wall of muggy heat. At this point we were still in the hallway of our building. By the time I actually made it out of the lobby I felt like I was walking into a non ventilated bathroom that had a 100 degree shower running. It was hot, muggy, and miserable. Automatically my beautifully straightened hair crinkled up against the crown of my head and my face started beading up. I hate humidity. I hate humidity, and once again, I can’t stress how much I hate humidity. Throw me under the summer Phoenix sun, no problem. Heck, even give me 2 feet of snow and I’ll find a way not to be too pessimistic, but humidity? I’ll whine and mope because it’s something I’m not cut out for. I have lived in deserts my whole life and my body overreacts to moisture.  Anyhow, moral of the paragraph: we walked outside and it was really humid. Period.

 

The morning was overcast, but still bright and bustling. We walked about 100 feet away from our apartment building and were surrounded by Asia exactly as I pictured it. Cramped streets, fluorescent lit signs, chintzy advertising with Pokemon looking characters, and hundreds of deafening mopeds zooming by leaving a cloud of choking exhaust.

It seems pointless to write solely about the streets, but they are that different. We live near a large busy road which we have to walk along to get nearly anywhere and the road doesn’t have sidewalks. To the left is six lanes of traffic with drivers who don’t seem particularly concerned about obeying traffic laws, and to the right is a wall of buildings, leaving a 2’ wide gap in the middle which I guess is the sidewalk. It’s not unusual for cars to park up against the building leaving their vehicle stopped in half a lane of traffic which forces the pedestrians into the road. You just hug your body as close to the stupidly parked car as possible, step into the road, and feel the breeze of vehicles passing by. It’s not the safest. We have almost got hit a couple of times, and it’s only day three.

When there is the occasional sidewalk even that has its hazards. Everything is pretty scraped together, so in front of one business will be concrete where a grate got chipped out leaving a hole, which causes you to trip. The business next to that will have cracking unlevel asphalt, which you snag your shoe on. The neighboring building will have a 2” rise of tile, which results in a stubbed toe. So, in addition to making sure you aren’t road kill, you constantly have to watch your step because the path is so unpredictable.

The side roads are where the action is. Most are crammed with street markets where people bring their goods for sale. There will be raw meat hanging from hooks, baskets of fresh fish, boxes of produce laid on the street, and the occasional guy with a crate of chickens and a bloody butcher block. Doesn’t get fresher than that. Then there are the little old ladies who grab a raw cut of meat and wave it in the face of the seller as they barter, then give up and move over to the fruit stand where they touch all the produce with contaminated hands. I have started washing my fruit really well. 

I feel like now I should take some time to go into Taiwanese cuisine because it will be (next to the humidity) the thorn in the side of my experience. It’s disgusting. I feel so closed minded saying that, but I have given it a try, and I simply can’t do it. It tastes nothing like Chinese food. There isn’t any kung pao chicken, teriyaki, sweet and sour, or chao mein. Rather, it’s terrible, foul smelling food that I can hardly swallow down and it makes the streets reek—to the point that I have to hold my breath. There is a breakfast food or two that is ok and pot stickers are edible, but after finishing lunch on our first day, Chris announced that we had pretty much exhausted all of our meal options. I found out there is a Subway down the street, and as un-adventurous as that is, I don’t care. I'm there.   

I hauled a couple bags of chocolate with me from the States to give to Chris’ friends as gifts, but the lack of edible food has driven me to a new level of selfishness, and I decided to keep the chocolate for myself. I wish I could better describe the cuisine, because the Taiwanese LOVE it and are offended when foreigners don’t. Let me say this though, the Food Chanel guy off of “Man vs. Food” has eaten everything presented to him, the only exception being his visit to Taiwan where they tried to feed him Stinky Tofu.

“Stinky” is a complete understatement. Because the tofu looks totally unsuspecting, the smell sneak attacks you, and the results is uncontrollable dry heaving. Picture an unventilated metal livestock shed full of pigs and piggy poop. In August. But that’s not stinky enough. Throw a couple of 5 gallon buckets of rotting meat into the shed, and we may be getting there. It’s like your body uses every defense it has—watering eyes, gag reflex, and mild suffocation—to warn you NOT to eat the reaky stuff.

Fortunately there is one food I look forward to eating—divine Taiwanese mangos. They are large, and fresh, sweet, and most importantly, made by God. Mangos at home have a rough texture and taste a little like grass, but they are soft as butter and sweet as sugar here. There is a mango drink at our favorite joint (Coco’s—it’s  similar to a Taiwanese version of Jamba Juice). The drink is called bing sha and it tastes like Mango Julius. The drink is icy with chunks of fruit, and topped with rich cream. It’s the only thing that can cool me off when my face is beet red and I have sweat running down my cheeks. Maybe I’ll live off Coco’s for the rest of my trip. 

My first breakfast--danbing. It's similar to a crepe cooked with eggs and ham.

This is a restaurant known as a "hot pot". There are heated bowls inserted in the table in which to boil a plate of veggies and meat.

During...

After. I had a plate full of foreign looking "things" but I tried them all. Overall, it was kind of a soggy, but a fun experience. 

My first stinky tofu sneak attack. 

This is the famous night market. All the surrounding streets were equally chaotic and packed. 

Beloved Coco's.

Shopping for the fruit of life. 

The Home Land

Greetings from Taiwan! It took a layover in LA, then a 14 hour flight, followed by a 45 minute drive to our new apartment, and about an hour wait for our friends to bring us our apartment keys, but we are here!

Our new apartment building was just constructed in the last few years and is a grandiose sky rise in the scrappy outskirts of Taiwan. The lobby is a showy display of marble, chandeliers, and elegant French-inspired furniture. There is a swimming pool, a second pool feed by natural hot springs, a nudie pool, a small gym, free bike rentals, and a roof garden/patio area that I know I’m going to love.  Chris and I are living on the 28^th floor and have a beautiful flat that is fortunately less ostentatious than the lobby.

The apartment is small by most standards but large by city standards. It is amazing how innovative and flexible the design of the space is. Everything is multipurpose and there is storage in every nook and cranny. Chris and I literally fit ALL of our cloths in two drawers.

Because we have a corner flat there are huge windows on two of the four walls. One of the major windows is the exterior bathroom wall. The entire bathroom is glass—from the outside window to the shower to the wall between the bathroom and bedroom. So when standing in the entry, you have a straight shot through the bedroom, through the bathroom, to the river. I think our toilet has the best view in Taiwan. J Although the bedroom is also open to the flat, it can be enclosed with glass screens that can be arranged to provide some privacy from the rest of the space. I love the modern simplicity of our new home because it is designed in a way to create an open, metropolitan experience that takes advantage of the spectacular views.

These are some of the odd-ball impressions that I have noticed about Taiwanese living:

The Taiwanese use Kleenex in place of toilet paper, napkins, and paper towels. Even restaurants have a box of tissues at each table for napkins. I went through about 8 during dinner last night because they practically desinigrate when wet.

The eating utensils, bowls, and plates in our apartment are tiny. You could make a place setting for dolls and it would look totally proportionate.  Each plate can hold a roll… and maybe a tooth pick. The cups are the width of a silver dollar, and the serving bowls are the size of a regular American cereal bowl. No wonder American’s are chunky monkeys.

There isn’t an oven in our room. We have a cook top (which we are fortunate to have—most people eat on the street), and a toaster oven.

Taiwan is very strict about disposing of trash. We have to sort recycling by glass, aluminum, etc. and also have a separate trash for any food waste. Failing to separate food can get you a ticket which means we have a really smelly bin of old food outside our window.

There is an oriental shoe cupboard near the front door, because it is extremely disrespectful to leave ones shoes on when entering even their own house. It’s a hard thing for me to remember to do and it requires more tying and untying than I would have thought. It’s kind of a smelly cupboard.

The tap water is bad, so neither visitors nor natives drink it, but I keep forgetting and have probably ingested some nasty parasite.

Chinese Is Hard.

Chris keeps telling me, “Chinese is easy!” and even rented a book for me with that title to prove his point. After reading 5 pages of the book and becoming horribly confused, I’m less than convinced.


So these are the top 6 reasons why Chinese is hard and therefore kind of sucks:

1. Chinese does not have an alphabet comprised of 26 letters that can be re-arranged to form words. Each individual syllable is identified by its own character, and almost all words are comprised of two characters. Although no one really knows how many characters there are for sure, there are estimated to be over 50,000. That is a lot of characters. If you learned one a day, you would be on pace to learn them all in 137 years. Fortunately a base of 1,750 characters is pretty standard for a native Chinese speaker, reducing learning the time to 4.5 years. Still a lot.

2. Not only does each syllable have its own character, but also a specific “stroke order” that the character must be written in. So in addition to memorizing the character itself, the meaning, and the tone (I’ll get to that), one also must remember in what order the tiny strokes that make up the character are written in. For reasons more complicated than I care to explain, stroke order is actually of importance and not just a finicky detail.

3. Recently, simplified version of the characters were developed to simplify things, but Taiwan uses traditional characters while China uses simplified characters, making it necessary to learn both.

4. Pinyin is a system developed to allow Chinese to be written using the Roman alphabet.



Example: The traditional character for “association” is: 聯想 and the pinyin for “association” is: liánxiǎng. Although I would have a heck of a lot more luck sounding out the pinyin than the character (in which case there is no sounding out—you either know a character or you don’t), I’m not able to pronounce the pinyin translation because I haven’t learned the sounds the different letters make. It would be a pretty feeble attempt.

5. There are 4 tones in Chinese. One is flat, one dips from high to low to high, one from high to low, and one from low to high. So… there are words in Chinese that have the same sound and the same pronunciation, but mean different things depending on the tone. The tones are distinguished in pinyin by marks above the letters (see example 4) and traditionally by different characters. What makes it even harder is that two words can share the same sounds and tones and mean two very different things.



Tones present an interesting challenge in music because the singer abandons the words’ tones for the song’s tune making it difficult to understand distinguish the lyrics.

6. Because there obviously isn’t a keyboard with 50,000 different characters on it, pinyin is used in combination with a regular keyboard to type characters. When Chris sits down to write a paper in Chinese, he types a word in pinyin and a little box pops up above the word with anywhere between 1 and 8 + different Chinese characters. One word may have multiple meanings/pronunciations that can only be specified by the character itself. He then reads through the characters provided and clicks on the one he wants. The selected character replaces the pinyin, and he is able to type the second word. It’s rather time consuming.

So, since we have adequately established that Chinese is in fact hard, I can confess without too much guilt that I only know a whopping two phrases: “I love you” and “I am his wife.” Not sure that’s going to do me a lot of good Taiwan.

“Where is the bathroom,” “I’ve been kidnapped,” and “I’m lost” may be more practical. According to Chris, I also need to learn how to say “No MSG please.” because the Taiwanese put it on EVERYTHING. Nothing to perk up your meal like a healthy dose of monosodium glutamate, and since I would like to come home cancer free, I’m going to bump this phrase up to the top of my “To Learn” list.

Tattle Tale

This week I programmed the Mesa Police department’s number into my cell. Its official, calling the police and reporting “incidents” is my new favorite. I was constantly calling Campus Security (they are more hardcore than the sound—they have guns) and the Rexburg Police during college, and now I have graduated to monitoring an entire city. Thus far, I have called in to report the following:


- A dead dog on the sidewalk bleeding out of its pooper—unsanitary and unsightly
- That I was unfairly “flashed” along with everyone else passing through the green light by a malfunctioning intersection camera that would have mailed all of us ticket—so unjust
- A car driving down the interstate at 11:00 at night without working tail lights—stupid
- Junk in the middle of the road (bumpers, tires)—an accident waiting to happen

Maybe it’s my need to brownnose to authority, or my overwhelming desire to make Mesa a safer place, but all I know is that I love calling in with a report and getting asked my name and phone number in case they need more information. (They haven’t yet, but the prospect is exciting.) I’m sure someday my contribution will be recognized and I’ll win the Nobel Prize for making the most police calls by one person ever. Let it be known: I plan to save the world one phone call at a time.

Happy Birthday To Me!

24? When did this happen? Twenty-three had a nice ring to it but now I'm not sure I have a certain age to look forward to anymore. "I'm one hundred" sounds pretty impressive, but honestly... who want's to live to be a hundred?

Regardless, I had a pretty good 24th birthday.

For starters, Chris made breakfast. Hurrah! He didn't quite make it to the dishes afterwards, but I have a whole year to work on him. We'll try again once I hit 25. Following breakfast, I took a most refreshing shower, put on my new striped shirt, styled my fresh haircut and headed to the Phoenix Science Center.

It was the Body World exhibit's last week in Phoenix, so Chris and I were all over it. I'm sure most of you are familiar with the exhibit, but if not, it displays preserved (via plasticization) bodies of humans who wanted to donate their bodies to science. It sounds kind of horrific, but the exhibit is really informative, interesting, artistic, and only sometimes a little creepy. Photography was strictly prohibited, so here are some professional photos of the exhibit.

The Science Center also has an I-Max screen, so following Body Worlds, Chris and I went to a 3D movie on Tahiti. Honestly, it was probably the best 45 minutes of my day. There are so many 3D movies anymore, and they cost a fortune but only provide a mildly dimensional experience. Our Tahiti film was anything but. I was there. I was swimming with the tropical fishes and reaching out to touch the rough coral. I had fire being whipped around myhead by some insanely buff islander in a grass skirt, and then decided to take up surfing with the worlds 9 time surf champ. Hooray for eight dollar 3D and I-Max tickets at the Science Center. I dig you.

Chris must have been feeling generous because he let me choose where to eat my birthday dinner (he would have chosen buffalo wings or steak no doubt), but I chose the Parlor in Phoenix. It is a fun, funky place that used to be an old hair parlor and has since been converted to a restaurant. It has a really retro vibe and great food.

The barstools are old haircutting chairs to keep true to The Parlor's roots.

I love the people wallpaper. I pity the soul who had to draw the original.

This is part of the restaurant's retro design--a floor-to-ceiling window that runs the length of the building. On the outer side of the window is a wall made of these molded concrete blocks.

My best birthday gift would be my one year anniversary (the day after my birthday).

We finished up the night with strawberry daiquiris courtesy of Dan and Jenn. I should have made a toast to old age.