September Call-Ups

A couple of weeks ago, Reachtoteach held its’ monthly social event—a meet and greet at a local bar. Generally speaking, this event was no different from the many others I’ve attended—similar venue, music, and drinks. But in one way it was unmistakably unique. So many of the familiar faces I’d grow accustomed to seeing at these events had disappeared. In the past 2 months, a seemingly endless trend of exodus has started.

In their stead was a fresh new batch of faces. The new recruits had arrived to fill the shoes of the retired veterans.

Meeting these fresh faces proved easy. Being new means being especially sociable in hopes of making new friends. I introduced myself, and went through the check-list of standard questions you always ask when you meet someone for the first time (at least until the alcohol catches up and things spice up a little). 

“What’s your name? Where are you from? Where’d you go to school? Age/Sex/Location?”

And then of course:

“How long have you been here?”

The answers I received almost knocked me off my chair (I promise it wasn’t alcohol-induced).

“1 month.” “1 week.” “3 days.”

Make no mistake. These kids were newbies.

A couple of things happened at this point. First, I felt a sudden jolt of nostalgia that I previously figured I wouldn’t feel until I arrived back home. I was jealous that these new teachers were experiencing Taiwan for the first time, and that they possessed all the vigor, anticipation, and enthusiasm that I did just 11 months ago. I felt a little like that old grandpa reminiscing..." you know, when I was your age..."

Second, it became very clear that I’d made the transition from rookie to veteran. Before I knew it I had become one of the seniors in Taiwan. I spent a good portion of the night answering questions on what teaching was like, what fun things there were to do in Taiwan, stinky tofu, typhoons, heaven money, and all the other quirky things about life in Taiwan. It was like I was the Oracle of Taiwan. For once my Chinese skill appeared strong, and some even told me that they enjoyed this blog—ill-updated as it is.

I’m not going to lie, it felt pretty freaking sweet. 

What was even more surprising is that I met a handful of people whom I’ve actually interviewed for Reachtoteach. It was strange meeting people face-to-face whom I’ve already fairly in-depth hour long conversations with. Even stranger to see the "fruits of my labor", so to speak.

Honestly, I was in a little disbelief when my friends began to leave. I likened it to the emotions I felt when everyone dispersed after the LanguageCorps training roughly 1 year ago—an almost fairy-tale kind of year which seemed to be prematurely coming to an end. But then I realized that I soon was to be part of this trend. So in that sense, the people leaving and the new influx of recruits signaled the beginning of the end of my Taiwan tenure.

At least I now know that if I decide to return, there will be more cool people to hang out with. And even more to replace them when the time comes. In the words of the great Lu, “the show goes on.”

The new kids on the block.

Me and the bosslady, Carrie.

Formosan Food

Surprise, surprise. In regards to my expectations about the food, I was once again deceived by preconceived stereotypes. In my defense, I’m sure a number of National Geographic and Discovery Channel documentaries were also partly responsible in contributing to these flawed expectations.

Before I arrived here, I visualized myself sitting cross-legged, meditating after some mixture of yoga and tai chi, and calmly sipping on some organic, goat urine-based concoction which would tell all the toxins inside me to piss off. I would slim down to .006 percent body fat, achieve a super-human metabolism, and live to be 103 years old.

Well, this wasn’t the case. Admittedly this was at least in part because of my laziness. The idea of doing Bikram yoga, especially in a climate where I already profusely sweat as is, was probably overly ambitious. And my white-boy flexibility (or lack thereof) has never really been compatible with any of those activities anyways.

And while my envisioned exercise regiment was a tad idealistic, the apparent lack of healthy food was surprising. I was convinced that Asian food would be ultra organic, balanced, and nutritious—especially considering how fit everyone seems to be. How else could such slim physiques be possible? (maybe they’re on to something with the betel nut chewing?)

Instead of the uber-hippy lifestyle I imagined for myself, my daily habits usually include indulging in some steamed pork dumplings for breakfast, wolfing down a lunchbox before class, and then sampling fried night market delicacies before retiring for the night. And, of course, running whenever possible to negate the effects of the aforementioned gluttony.

I’ve already given a brief description of how unhealthy Taiwanese food can be in previous posts; how my lack of self-control is continually at odds with my aim of living a healthy lifestyle.  But of course I’m always quick to conclude that I wouldn’t have it any other way. This food, though not exactly best for the belly (or arteries), more than makes up for it by satisfying the taste buds.

Indeed, the majority of the local food I’ve come across here is fried, greasy, salty, sugary, or all of the above. Especially at the night markets. Local delicacies include fried squid, scallion cakes, dumpling balls, wontons, pot stickers, and a whole host of other bomb foods which I don’t know the names of. 

And if all this food sounds disappointing because it sounds like you could order it at PF Changs or Panda Express, there are always those crazy foods that you’d only see on Strange Eats or perhaps even Fear Factor. In the past year I’ve sampled stinky tofu (which literally smells like a baby’s diaper), chicken feet, liver and hearts, and dried pig’s blood. HmHmHm.

Dried pig's blood. Not bad if you can get over the thought of it.

Food in Taiwan is certainly not restricted to traditional Chinese dishes, however. Throughout the country exists an eclectic fusion of mainland Chinese, Taiwanese, American, Indian, Italian, Vietnamese, Korean, and Japanese cuisine— an edible testament to the country’s international history. I never imagined that during the course of the week I could eat sushi, curry and naan, Korean hot pot, teppanyaki, pho, and of course, Outback Steakhouse. That’s a pretty tough lineup to beat.

So while it wasn’t what I was anticipating, it’s turned out to better than I could have possibly imagined. Sometimes the best things in life are the unexpected.  And the unhealthy.

Southeastern Hospitality

*Disclaimer: Once again, it’s impossible to generalize a group of 23 million. The following reflects only what I’ve learned from my experiences.

In my 8 months as an interviewer for Reachtoteach, I’ve been asked a wide variety of questions by potential teachers. I’ve answered in detail about everything from cultural faux pauses to the Taiwanese attitude towards homosexuality. However varied these questions are, there’s always one that inevitably comes up.

“I’ve heard the Taiwanese are really friendly people. Is this true?”

My answer has become as standard as the question itself.

“Indeed, the Taiwanese are unfailingly friendly.”

 

If they probe me for more information, I proceed to give concrete examples to illustrate this point. For example:

On my first full night in Taiwan, I got lost (me?? go figure) trying to find my way back to my hostel. Knowing absolutely no Chinese, and not having a clue on the layout of the city, I began to panic. Lo and behold, a young Taiwanese xiaojie comes to my aid. Using her best English, and being very patient with my lack of communication, she somehow manages to get me on the right bus. How does she do this? She takes the bus with me until I know where I am. If that’s not hospitality, I don’t know what it is.

In my first month in Taiwan, I frequented a breakfast place near my house almost every day. Not only was the food pretty tasty, but it also sported a huge flat-screen HD TV—which during playoff baseball time, provided a welcome taste of home. Before long it soon became apparent to the laoban that the reason I was showing up was for the entertainment. So even if the channel was set to something else, the moment I walked in baseball suddenly appeared on the screen. And as if that wasn’t accommodating enough, every morning I ate there I was given one (sometimes two) complimentary cups of coffee. Why? Because they’re that damn nice.

About 2 months ago, my computer bit the dust for the second time in only 10 months. Naturally, I was pretty livid. And unfortunately the target of my anger was the computer store manager where I took my computer to get repaired. I was an especially unhappy camper when he informed me of the $150 bill. But then he did something that was completely shocking and unexpected. Knowing I would be without a computer for 2 weeks, he offered me a loan, completely free of charge. It didn’t take me any time at all to realize that this was something that would never happen back in the states. Once again, the Taiwanese had proven their generosity.

When I got home that night, I happily posted a FB status declaring how impressed I was with Taiwanese people. My Asian friend Jenny then quickly pointed out that they’re only friendly to me because I’m white. While this provided a laugh, there’s also some harsh reality to this statement.

As I’ve mentioned before, the Taiwanese love white people and being white. If the sun is shining at all, the locals here are quick to throw up their umbrellas in self-defense. At first I didn’t understand this phenomenon. Was it trying to keep cool? Fear of skin cancer? As it turns out, the Taiwanese just like being white, and they avoid tanning like it’s the plague. Whereas Americans embrace color, and some even spend several hours a week in tanning salons to this end, the Taiwanese are of a completely different attitude. Unfortunately, this has very troubling implications for their attitudes towards people of darker skin colors…

In my first month at Hess, I was teaching an older class of 12-13 year olds. The topic for this level was “free time”, and the day’s lesson concerned sports. After the students finished reading an article about the almighty Michael Jordan, I elicited a discussion. The first question I asked was: “Do you want to be famous like Michael Jordan?”

Without hesitation, my student Max raises his hand and says “I do not want to be like Michael Jordan because he is black man.”

To worsen this already deteriorating situation, I had him repeat this answer at least 3 times. I was so shocked at his answer that I couldn’t believe my ears. “Did you just say….what??” After the 3^rd time, my Chinese Teacher rebuked the hell out of him. But at that point the damage had already been done. This was only the first of many examples of outright racism I would witness towards peoples with darker skin.

Wanting more of an explanation on my student’s response, I asked one of my Taiwanese friends why the locals are more racist against darker people. The response here wasn’t more encouraging…”because we can’t see them at night.”

One of my co-teachers recently explained that her mother would never allow her to marry a black man. Why? “Because she says ‘our babies would always look dirty.’” WOW.

But the interesting thing about this racism is that it isn’t all that hateful. Sure, it’s definitely racist. But it doesn’t seem very prejudiced. As my students have explained to me again and again, they just prefer being white and think that being white is prettier. It doesn’t appear that there is any overt hatred towards darker people. And to them, this very apparent discrimination is neither a cause of shame nor is it looked down upon socially. And frankly this last part makes a little sense. After all, the Taiwanese certainly do not share the same painful history us Westerners have in regards to treatment of people of darker skin color. To them it’s hardly even racism—it’s just stating a preference.

But now I know that the “unfailingly friendly” connotation needs an asterisk. Perhaps the reason I am treated so kindly is indeed because I’m white. I’ve been introduced to the darker (literally) side of the Taiwanese hospitality.

Previously, in Taiwan

Wow, I can’t believe it’s been over a month since I’ve updated this thing. As I try to think of a legitimate reason for neglecting this like I have, I’m coming up empty. Maybe the activity on this arc is symbolic of my stint in Taiwan—it started out with a lot of gusto and enthusiasm, began to plateau in the middle, and like all good things, inevitably came to an end.

So without further ado, I should get to my main point, cue the Skylar Grey, and tell you I’m Coming Home. Less than two months from now I’ll be arriving at San Francisco International Airport, returning to the states after a 14 month hiatus. While I’m excited to come home and see familiar places and faces, I’m realizing I’m going to miss Taiwan. Moreover, I’m going to reminisce about all the completely new experiences, the unexpected twists and turns that comprised the last year of my life.

Even as I reflect now, I’m forced to compare the perspectives I had when I arrived against those I now have.  Many of these deal with the expectations (some of them blatant stereotypes) I had about Taiwanese people and culture before arriving. So, with my final posts in this blog, I’m going to address these issues. I’ll separate fact from fiction; play a little Taiwan MythBusters; or whatever other analogy you can think of.

Taiwanese people dress conservatively

Hardly. Of course you can’t generalize a group of 23 million, but in my experience, the dress code here has been anything but traditional and/or conservative. For one, girls have a tendency to dress like it’s Halloween at the Playboy Mansion. Ridiculously revealing skirts, done-up hair, high heels, and tight shirts are the norm. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, the Taiwanese highly value fashion. Heavily influenced by Japan (and by the looks of it, Los Angeles), the locals here are all about showcasing the latest fashions and accessories. My normal ensemble of jeans and a t-shirt, which did me well throughout college, no longer cuts it.

Surprising as the female fashion is here, the real shocker is how guys dress. For lack of a better word, the male fashion sense here is very….gay. The other day I went to the department store to look for a new pair of jeans, only to be disappointed when I couldn’t find a single pair without some sort of glittery emblem or racecar flame decal. On top of that, Taiwanese men have no shame sporting purses. And these aren’t like the “satchels” you would see in the Hangover; they’re full on Sex and the City man-bags (neither confirming nor denying I’ve ever watched that show). But hey, considering my backpack has probably done more damage to my back than a summer’s worth of work for my father, maybe they’re on to something with the purses…

Then there’s the hair. At my gym, there are no less than 15 hair-dryers in the men’s locker room, typically all in use at any given time. When I jokingly mentioned this to a Taiwanese friend one day, they responded by asking me how I dry my hair instead. When I said that I simply use a towel, a noticeable look of horror and disbelief registered on her face. 

My mother used to tease me by telling me the outfits I chose made me look homeless. Now it’s no laughing matter. Out here, in comparison, I do look homeless.