Oh Thank Heaven...

Well, you know the rest of the tune. Though I haven’t heard that famous jingle in quite some time now, I still  remember it clearly. And as surprising as this might sound considering where I’m currently living, every day I do indeed thank heaven for 7-11.

First, it needs to be stated just how popular 7-11 is here. These joints are literally everywhere. You can’t walk more than 100 meters in any direction without seeing one. People back home joke that’s there literally a Starbucks on every corner. Here it’s no joke—7-11 rules the day. The number of 7-11s here would probably make Starbucks back home seem like a hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

One photo. Two 7-11s.

An interesting thing happened the other day. I opened the top drawer of my desk, the one which has been designated as my receipt cubby. Every night I take the receipts I have from that day and stuff them in there in a very unorganized fashion. After 2 months, it's safe to say there was complete chaos in there. Yet I elected to go through each and every one of these receipts in order to participate in Taiwan’s receipt lottery, hopeful that one of those crumpled pieces of paper could win me some more valuable “paypa” (unfortunately this effort was in vain). It was then that I realized just how many receipts I had collected from 7-11.

receipt drawer...yikes. It's ironic that the receipt lottery was instituted to encourage organization...whoops.

My initial reaction to this was a mixture of shock and disappointment. Had I really traveled to a place thousands of miles away only to become a 7-11 fiend? By the number of receipts I’d collected, I came to the conclusion that I’d been to 7-11 more times in the past 3 months than I’d been in my entire lifetime. I’m sure many of you are similarly confused/disappointed. But then I looked closer at the receipts to see what I was purchasing—a pattern soon became very apparent. It's not like I'm using this place for everyday meals; I’m using it for what the definition of 7-11 is: a convenient store. And in this way, it’s been a total life-saver. 

Coffee. I’ve already mentioned how that substance has once again become my life-blood here in Taiwan. If coffee didn’t exist here, chances are I wouldn’t be waking up most mornings until 11:30. Luckily the stuff is readily available…thanks in no small part to my new favorite convenient store. It shouldn’t strike anyone as unusual that 3 of the most common Chinese phrases I know are “wo yao ka fe shao be” (I want a small cup of coffee), “zhong be (medium cup), and“da be” (large cup). When I’m just looking for the energy fix, whether it be early morning or pre-class time, the 7-11 Americano works wonders. When I’m treating myself, I get myself a nice little latte. Surprisingly this coffee isn’t actually all that bad, and it’s far more affordable than the Starbucks alternative, which is rather expensive.

Medium latte, or "ka fe zhong be". And in a Christmas themed cup..what's not to like?

Beer. After a day of enlightening the young ones, with the infamous “I deserve this” mentality persisting, the temptation can be quite large to throw back a few cold ones. And when I do indeed decide to treat myself, 7-11 is always there to help. Thanks to it, I now have a pretty strong knowledge of Taiwanese beer (for the record, Tsingtao=my favorite cheap one). But I must confess that normally when I go there for my alcoholic fix, I can’t but resist the 3 beers for 79 NT deal. The funniest part—this beer with the special is actually called “The Beer” (original, right?). And while it’s notorious for being the cheap beer here, in this regard it surely blows its American counterparts (Keystone, Natural Light, etc.) way out of the water. I actually rather enjoy the stuff (next step—find a beer pong table. Just kidding. But seriously).

Taiwan Beer. It's an acquired taste.

And as if the connection between alcohol and 7-11 wasn’t already amazing enough, it gets even better. See, drinking in public is actually legal here (hoooorayyyy beeer!). You can walk down the street with a little “road soda” and have nothing to fear. This is especially great because one of the 7-11s by my house is actually located right next door to a pretty fancy club, Roxy 99. But since most of the people who live where I live (students and fellow teachers) don’t have the funds for such a club, many of us just end up sipping on beers and hanging outside 7-11 with everyone else who may or may not eventually end up at the club. It’s like a gigantic pre-party outside of 7-11. And I must confess that, after actually being to Roxy, the party at 7-11 is much more enjoyable and social. Considering the number of people who just hang outside of its confines until the wee hours of the morning, taking advantage of their cheap beer, I wouldn’t be surprised if 7-11 started charging a cover.

The best part is that the 7-11s here are the perfect balance of familiar and Western and foreign and Taiwanese. Sure, they have chips—but can you say you’ve ever really tried “prawn flavor”? ( I can!) And of course they also have slurpees…the staple trademark treat of 7-11. Though I haven’t had one yet, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I’ll give in (waiting for when I’m really homesick to indulge in one).

So call me pathetic; call me lame. Say what you'd like. But I've traveled to Taiwan and grown to love 7-11.

The Girl In Waiting

I walked to the store today after class. Just a normal Tuesday, thankfully off at 6:30 as opposed to 9. But something felt off. My backpack, which is basically an extension of myself now (as I carry it literally everywhere I go), felt heavier. I'm now so familiar with the damn thing that I can sense even the slightest weight difference or change in balance. "What could it be?" I think to myself. Not my notebook---I leave that at school now so as to save my back ( I love my dad, but sharing his chronic back problem when I'm older is not something I'm trying to achieve). But then I realize what it is. I'm hiding a new love in my backpack; a love that's been passed on to me, now about to date her third straight Hess employee. Despite her reputation for "getting around", I'm excited for the chance to get to know this girl. Hey, she even sounds the sexy type. After all, she's got a dragon tattoo.

Living in Taiwan has allowed me to enjoy some of the more simple pleasures in life. One of those has been reading. I always knew I liked to read, but somehow found it difficult to "read for pleasure" when I was constantly bombarded with "reading for school" (aka hundreds of lengthy and detailed historical primary sources). Needless to say, school kinda drained the fun out of reading for me. It was a chore--not a hobby or interest. But being over here has allowed me to rediscover this passion. Since arriving in Cambodia, I've burned through 6 books, all of which I've thoroughly enjoyed.

And so now I have this Girl with the Dragon Tattoo on my hands. Everyone from family back home to co-workers here in Taiwan has been raving about her. I hear she is riveting and exciting, though not exactly the "wham bam" type. It sounds like I will have to invest some serious time in this relationship before I understand all her amazing attributes; before I fall in love with her. She'll be nothing like I, Alex Cross, the book I read almost entirely today so just so I could move on to this girl.

And the best part, she's a cheap date (aka "free" thanks to my wonderful co-worker Lisa and her generously letting me borrow her).

My first date with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is tomorrow. I can't wait to get this relationship started.

My Babies

I walk into room 201 at my school at precisely 4:25. It’s Thursday. I’m exactly half-way through my week; sitting on top of the proverbial ‘hump’—5 classes down, 5 more to go. When I enter the classroom, 8 hyperactive kindergarteners await me. They all yell out “Teacher Andrew!” in unison. And so the madness begins.

This group of kids is my Treehouse 8 class, Level 1. These kids hardly deserve to be at the Treehouse level. They’re far from it. If the Treehouse levels were constructed as an actual treehouse, these kids would be nowhere near the treehouse, perched on top of the tree. No—they’d be at the very base of the trunk of the tree, amusing themselves by eating the bark or something like that. To say this class is a handful would be a severe understatement. They’re more than a handful—they’re a whole boatload of craziness.

When I first learned I would be teaching these kids for, well, the next year, I was a little upset. Sure, it’s only Level 1 and the kids can be pretty cute. But still, they are so incredibly young and inexperienced. There’s no way most of them would have passed a competency exit exam for PREACP had there been one. I’m not even sure some of these kids are ready for finger-painting.

But Hess is a private English school. Even if the kids aren’t ready or passing, they move them up to the next level to continue to make money and keep the parents happy; obviously content to falsify progress in the name of making money. And I can’t even be upset about it—I, too, rely on the tuition the parents pay. It’s how the system works.

But before I could be upset for long, a realization slaps me across the face allowing a new perspective to come to light. At 6:30 on Thursday, one of my Chinese Teachers asks me what class I just finished teaching. “Treehouse 8," I respond unenthusiastically with an air of exhaustion. “Oh yes!” they reply excitedly. “Treehouse 8—that’s your and Teacher Zoe’s (Chinese Teacher) class! You’re first very own class! Those are YOUR kids!”

Boom. There it was. What this teacher said was obvious, but somehow it hadn’t hit me before then. I hadn’t thought of it that way. The impact on my attitude towards the situation was incredible.

These are my babies. I’m responsible for their progress. No Native Speaking Teacher has had them before. It’s up to me. Their destiny is in my hands.

With my other classes, I haven’t invested so much in emotion into my kids’ performance. Obviously I love to see them succeed, and clearly I don't enjoy giving out low homework or test scores. But really there’s only so much I can do right? I can work my hardest during my 2 hours to teach them, but really success is impossible unless these kids study outside of school. The grade they ultimately receive is based on just that—how committed they are. Therefore, I haven’t really cared much about how my kids do.

But with this class it’s different. There’s no way these kids are going to do any kind of studying at home. So, once the clock strikes 4:30, I have exactly an hour and 50 minutes (10 minutes for break) to drill them as hard as humanly possible on things like grammar, phonics, and vocab. And this is especially challenging considering that learning is just about the last thing these kids are interested in. They’re far happier bouncing off the walls, tattletaling on another student speaking Chinese, hitting each other, or shooting me with their imaginary guns (not as violent as it sounds, I promise—it’s actually a sign of affection I think?).

The task we have been handed is certainly not easy. At times, it actually seems impossible. In putting us in charge of such a rowdy and beginner group of students, it seems like Hess basically told us to pull the sword from the stone; to domesticate an unruly pack of hyenas; or whatever other metaphor for accomplishing an impossible feat you can think of.

But yet retreat is not an option. No matter how difficult or frustrating, we must succeed in our endeavor. These are me and Teacher Zoe’s babies (not insinuating any promiscuous activity between me and her…). Since both of us are relatively new teachers, this is our chance to really make a difference and make a name for ourselves.

It’s sink-or-swim time. Or, as my friends in Zombieland might put it…It’s time to nut up or shut up.

you said it, Columbus.

Sugar Shock

Help me. I’m under attack.

Fear not everyone. My body isn’t in any actual physical danger. In fact, I’m probably safer here in Taipei than I would be back home in San Jose. Sure there’s times when I’m nearly run over by the taxis and buses that refuse to stop for red lights, which they basically treat as optional suggestions rather than traffic laws. But all in all Taipei is a pretty safe place. No one seems to steal or get mugged. Bikes are left on the streets unlocked during all hours of the day. Guns are illegal here (though maybe someone should tell that to the politician’s son who was recently shot in the face?). No. The threat I’m facing now stems from a different enemy—namely, my complete lack of self control when it comes to consuming sweets. Or, as it is better known, my infamously bad sweet tooth. It’s out to get me. And while my life might not be at stake, the enamel of my teeth, my gut, my blood sugar level, and the likelihood of me developing Type 2 Diabetes later in life definitely are.

Everyone who knows me understands I have a serious affinity/addiction for sugary foods. I’m a fiend for any dessert, no matter the flavor, form, or size. I’ve been known to casually dominate a severe amount of just about any sweet sugary goodness I can get my hands and/or mouth on. I’ve dominated trays of Trader Joes Jo-Jos, fistfuls of chocolate orange sticks, large cups frozen yogurt and ice cream, third servings of cake and pumpkin pie, King sized candy bars, and pretty much everything in between. My mom still loves to bring up the story of when I was just a young little tot, and how she discovered me hiding under the table in the kitchen munching on candy I had stolen from my brother’s Halloween stash.  I guess some things never change.

Before I departed for Southeast Asia, I worked under the misconception that it would be difficult to nearly impossible to find sweets over here. Therefore I decided to make sure I got my fix (and then some) of every sugary treat which I believed I would be without for the next year plus. And in Cambodia, that actually wasn’t far from the truth. Apart from the occasional convenient store with “chocolate” (in quotations because really it tasted like anything but chocolate), sweets were nowhere to be found. Instead I feasted on rice and noodles primarily, and had basically a dessert-less month (however I was able to ration the Swedish Fish my Mom so generously snuck in my suitcase for the first 2 weeks—you’re truly a saint Maureen Ghiossi).

But even if my theory on sweets was correct for Cambodia, I couldn’t have been more dead wrong on this subject when it came to living in Taiwan. Holy mother of See’s. Sweet sugary galore literally lines just about every street here in Taipei. I feel like Charlie the Unicorn as I walk around amazed at the real life equivalent of Candy Mountain; or Butters walking through GumDrop Forest in Imaginationland (you didn’t really think I would go this long without inserting another South Park reference, did you?). Pretty much any flavor or texture of sweet you might be craving is easily accessible. And surprisingly, consider the mostly petite nature of many of the locals, portions are rather generous. What’s even more dangerous? The prices are out-of-this-world dirt cheap.

sweeeet sugggarrrryyy gooooodnnesssss

ShiDa Night Market, conveniently located basically right outside my door, is especially dangerous. There are so many options here. The sheer multitude of them makes it hard to avoid the temptation to indulge. It’s like a field of landmines. You may think you have escaped danger by standing firm against the urge to stop for a chocolate sundae or frozen yogurt creation. You turn back to gloat at your victim and congratulate yourself on some serious discipline, only to turn back around and find that you’ve walked smack dab into another trap—the cream sandwich vendor. Damn! Well, now that I’m here, I might as well get one. Ehhh..the line’s pretty long. So long as I’m going to wait, I might as well get a couple. Maybe 3. Just to make the wait worth it, you know? And there it is—the battle is already lost.

What has compounded this problem even more is that I typically walk right through the heart of the ShiDa Night Market around 9:45 p.m., right when all the sweet aromas of the foods are flowing right through my nostrils. And of course at that point, I’ve spent the last 7 hours or so preparing for and teaching classes. Needless to say, the “I deserve this” mentality is pervading my every thought. When this justification combines with the sights and smells of all the delicious treats around me, I am simply too helpless to overcome the temptations. A fury of gluttony ensues.

And as if ShiDa wasn’t enough of a problem in itself, I now have to face the fact that many of my students (especially the Treehouse 8 youngsters) have started bringing me sugary treats before class. I’m not sure what prompted this, but it’s become an unstoppable trend. And who am I to refuse their oh-so-generous offerings? Even if they are no more than a bribe to treat them nicely and possibly cut them some slack on their quizzes. Of course the packaged sweets are safe, so I take them without hesitation. But my addiction is actually so bad that sometimes I contemplate taking the unpackaged sweets straight from their bare hands, aware that these are the same hands they used to wipe their nose, tackle another student, flush the toilet, and all but dip in a vat of germs before handling said treat. Luckily, this is the one time when my self-control ultimately wins. But the fact that I actually have to consider it is a bit frightening.

I’ve never before brushed my teeth and washed my mouth with such vigor and intensity. And crunches have become a new part of the daily workout routine. Something has to be done to fight back in this battle, because I’ve given up all hope that self-control and discipline is the answer. My Achilles taste buds have won again.

*I’m not going to describe any of my treat discoveries, for surely it would just make me crave some at this late hour and lead me downstairs for a late night snack. But here are a few photos to show you what I’m talking about. Oh, and honorable mentions for the YoFro Chocolate Dream creation,  cream sandwiches, and the cinnamon bun with cream—all of which I am yet to photograph. But don’t worry, you’ll see them eventually. It’s only a matter of time before I give in once more…

Cookies n' cream at Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall. Tourist trap #1.

Chocolate flute. Taipei 101.

Flavor Field Bakery...you complete me.

By far the most dangerous of them all. Chocolate sundae in a cone.

Posting these pictures was a horrible idea. Mouth=watering.

And of course, cookies n' cream in a waffle. Bomb dot com.

Combo of ice cream, yogurt, fresh fruit, cream, and shaved ice. Sounds a little weird; tastes heavenly.

Century Club

*Note: the title of this post is in no way encouraging anyone to try the century club drinking game, which more often that not (a.k.a. the two times I tried it freshman year) will end up with you in the bathroom worshiping the porcelain goddess. So yeah...word to the wise.

100 days. That's how long I've now been in Southeast Asia. In fact, if my math is correct (it may indeed be incorrect... math never was my strongest subject), I've now been here exactly 101 days. And when I say "here", I of course mean in the greater Asia area and more importantly, away from the good old US of A. After all, ever since leaving home I've hardly stayed in just one place. I temporarily made stops in Hong Kong, Phnom Penh, Siem Reap, Sihanoukville, and Saigon before I finally settled down here in Taipei. I feel I've traveled around enough here to make my own remix to Lupe's "Paris Tokyo"--except in my version, instead of going to sleep in Paris and waking up in Tokyo, or having a dream in New Orleans and falling in love in Chicago, I'd say I've had a brief panic attack in Hong Kong, been assaulted by a young boy and a book in Phnom Penh, partied in the rain and explored ancient runs in Siem Reap, stepped on an evil sea urchin (and subsequently been urinated on) in Sihanoukville, experienced live music bliss in Saigon, and taken Sunday adventures to Shihlin, Danshui, Beitou, Dahu Park, and Elephant Mountain here in Taipei.

And this song is far from completed. There is still much traveling and much living to be done. Over Christmas I will be getting the chance to explore Hualien and Taroko Gorge. And then over Chinese New Year, I'll be visiting Thailand to quickly see Bangkok and then head to the water to live to the beach bum lifestyle for a week. But my intention here is not to fantasize about these upcoming adventures, though surely I am excited for them.

Today as I was exploring Danshui for this Sunday's adventure, I was thinking about the possible things I could write about for this blog post. Surely Danshui was pretty sweet. The weather was amazing (especially considering it's December 5th), the food was delectable, and the view across the river was magnificent. But as I looked around, I realized that many things I once found foreign and strange about Taiwan--the crowded streets, the exotic cuisine, the constant eating and savory aroma of food, the strange music and dancing--had all become part of normal life for me. There was nothing all that new and interesting to share about. Perhaps I had become assimilated. And more than that, I was amazed at how comfortable I felt. Here I was, in a completely different part of the world, spending time in a place quite far from my new "home" here, with a group of friends I've developed friendships with just in the past 2 months. And that's when it hit me--oddly enough almost at the same time it hit me that I'd been gone for 100 days--that instead of using this post to talk about an exciting new discovery on my Sunday adventure (as I normally would), I should talk about how I got to this point; how I managed to establish such a content frame of mind regarding my current situation. And while I was thinking about this, one word kept coming to mind: Cambodia. Of course Cambodia and Taiwan are very different places in so many different ways. But somehow I don't feel I did Cambodia justice with this blog. Perhaps because the internet was so slow there, or because when I was there I hadn't really started making the conscientious effort to regularly update this thing, I only wrote 1 post while I was there. But Cambodia had an amazingly significant impact on me. And indeed I firmly believe my time and experience there are what have made my time in Taiwan mostly enjoyable and not very overwhelming. But in order to try and explain this, I'll have to start from the beginning. Brace yourself for another reflective post.....

The day was August 25th. I woke up around 7 a.m. And when I say "woke up", I mean that's when I got out of bed. Surely there was way too much racing through my mind on the night of the 24th to get anything close to a deep R.E.M.-filled sleep. I wasn't stressed about packing or preparing physically. I had been diligent enough to get that all situated days in advance. But mentally, I thought I was going insane. The idea of teaching in Southeast Asia had always excited me right up until the point I was about to leave. I was second-guessing and even third-guessing my actions. I figured all along that this move was the right one for me, and that it was exactly what I needed at that point in life. But then doubt started to creep in. Add to the mix that I started to think about all the family and friends that I wouldn't be seeing for over a year; how this would be the last time I saw my home or beloved dog before late 2011. I went for a run to calm my nerves and hopefully exhaust myself so I could sleep for some of my 14 hour plane trip, which departed at 1 a.m. on August 26th. And while the run tired my body out, the endeavor was nevertheless fruitless as my nerves were still sky-high and I stayed awake for the duration of my plane ride. Then I finally landed in Hong Kong, where after about 38 hours of not sleeping, I wrote my first scatter-brained blog entry detailing all the emotions that were rushing over me. After a long layover, I was off to Phnom Penh. And so it began.

picture taken from Hong Kong airport...the first one captured of over 1,000 so far. for that reason alone it holds special sentimental value

It's hard to think I left Cambodia over 2 months ago; that LanguageCorps is now training its third set of students after our group graduated. Despite the fact that by the time I'll be finished here, Cambodia will be just a blip on my Asia time-line, that place will always hold a special significance to me. In the less than a month I spent there, I developed friendships with some truly awesome individuals, made countless memories, and snapped some amazing photos of breathtaking sights like the ruins at Angkor Wat and the sunset at Sihanoukville, among many many others. But I think that as amazing as all these things were, the aspect that I loved about Cambodia the most was how it gave the confidence to move forward in my journey. If there was any doubt about the decision I'd made, it ended there. Any and all reservations I had flew out the window. Not only had I convinced myself that I was capable of meeting and interacting with new people on my own, I'd also gained absolutely invaluable experience as a teacher. Truly Lin, Leak, Nita, and Lyly and will never have an understanding of the impact they had on my confidence as a teacher. If I continue down this career path, the memories of teaching those 4 girls for that very brief 2 week period will always be vivid; and the lessons I learned from teaching them will remain with me.

I came out here for a radically new experience; to reinvent myself. And while I had my doubts before departing, I truthfully couldn't have imagined a more reassuring and eventful start to my Asia tour than the one I received there. Without that experience, I very well may not have been the same person I am right now. I'm not saying I've completely changed who I am in a mere 3 months, but maybe I would have remained the often timid, shy, and hesitant-to-put-himself-out-there A.J. from back home had Cambodia never happened. Instead I'm the confident, adventurous, and ready-for-new-things Teacher Andrew.

And all this reflection on Cambodia isn't to give the impression I'm not enjoying Taiwan, because that would be so incredibly far from the truth. But it is safe to say that I may not have been getting as fulfilling of an experience here had it not been for the first 28 days of my journey (maybe I wouldn't even have the motivation/desire to go on these awesome Sunday adventures). So with respect to Hong Kong, Saigon, and Taipei, Cambodia has been the most significant and meaningful stop for me. Cambodia was my genesis.