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.

Touche, students. Touche.

I love my students. I really do.

This is the mantra I say to myself almost everyday now, which is usually followed by a long, deep breath. It reminds me a little of the saying my mother used to give us boys every once in a while: "I love you. I just don't always love the decisions you make." True story. And just as my mom was disappointed in our often irresponsible behavior, I too have found myself becoming more and more disheartened by the things my students do. Perhaps I'm getting older. Perhaps I'm becoming more jaded. Alas, saddest of all, perhaps teaching is not for me after all.

Though my kids are unfailingly cute, they seem to have developed a taste for rebellion recently. Maybe it's the summer heat, the fact that they're out of Chinese school for the next 2 months, or maybe this is all an elaborate set-up and I'm actually a contestant on that hidden-camera MTV show Boiling Points. Whatever it is, it's started to wear on me.

There is one exception to this trend though. My D1 Step Ahead Level 9 class, which I usually have on Saturday morning, has failed to disappoint me so far. A class that started out shy and quiet has slowly warmed up over the past 9 months and is now the highlight of my teaching week. Because my Chinese teacher for that class is my manager, who's rarely ever there, I feel a certain responsibility for these kids that I don't necessarily have for the others. I've also taught them levels 6-9 of the Step Ahead series, the "formative levels" if you will. We started out struggling with long vowel sounds; now they are mastering the past continuous tense. Indeed, they make me a proud teacher.

Because of another engagement, my manager asked me to cover this class for her on Wednesday night. All too eager to avoid my normal Wednesday night class, which has driven me to tears and/or the bottle from time to time, I gladly accepted.

The only down-side to this class is that it's on the third floor of a poorly ventilated building. And with it being late June and everything, it was rather hot and stuffy. As I stood there sweating like Patrick Ewing at the free throw line, I decided to crank down the A/C to 23 Centigrade (about 73 Fahrenheit for us stubborn, anti-metric Americans). Of course my students, accustomed to the severity of Taiwan's summer heat, found this unbearably cold. They pleaded with me to turn it up, but I refused.

But then two students did something I couldn't believe. You see, the level 9 reading book is Who's Taking Out the Trash?—yeah, that same book that goofed me up with the ice cream and garbage trucks. Well, the theme of the book is recycling and making the world a safer and cleaner place .On a few of the pages, there are pictures with subtitles that show ways we can help protect the environment. As a result, I've spent countless minutes lecturing to my kids on the importance of these things that I'm sure even Al Gore would find excessively cheesy and preachy.

Literally minutes after I had firmly refused to bump up the A/C, these girls call me over, looking concerned. Wanting to help, I take the bait. As soon as I do, they lift their reading book and simply point to the picture of the air conditioner and the subtitle which reads: "Set A/C to 25".

They ambushed me with the guilt trip! I was so blown away at their clever genius and embarrassed at my own hypocritical behavior that I was forced to concede. I had no rebuttal. I had lost.

D1: 1   Teacher Andrew: 0

The Real Taiwan

I’m in an almost vegetative state. 4 hours of teaching sometimes feels like 8, especially when you have back-to-back classes of little Treehouse demons. I’m watching the best Taiwan television programming has to offer, totally shit movies on HBO, Hollywood, Cinemax, etc. I turn to ESPN whenever there’s a break from my shit movie. It’s a replay of Yankees-Rays, Yankees-Red Sox, Yankees-does it really matter? It’s the same one that’s been showing all day. Though I most likely already know the outcome, I sometimes tune in just to hear the Chinese announcers. In between all the incoherent babble, they will invariably insert American baseball lingo in there, maybe for comedic effect for us foreigners. “Sabathia ting tang tong shi wo bu he pinglinwn chu K YOU VERY MUCH! Buzhi dao le”, or something to that nature. Sure, this isn’t exactly high quality stuff I’m watching here. But after being away from television for 8 months, unwinding in front of the tube after a long day is a pretty simple pleasure. 

Suddenly I’m jolted awake. A familiar song begins to boom over the loudspeakers outside my apartment. At first I’m not sure what this noise is, and why it plays four times a day. I had heard it a lot in my previous 7 months in Taipei, but for the very first time I’ve forced to acknowledge; I’m forced to live by its restrictions; I’m a slave to it.

It’s the Taipei theme song for garbage trucks. Whenever you hear that song, you have approximately 5 minutes to haul your trash out to the street, where you will then heave it in to a moving yellow truck, like a quarterback pitching to his running back on an option play.

It took me about a month of living in Taiwan to establish the ironic connection between the classical music and trash collecting time. At my first apartment, we were fortunate enough to have a couple of kind gentleman take our trash out for us. Therefore I was pretty apathetic about finding out more about this strange, daily music. For me, it was just another weird part of Taipei.

Then one October evening I was teaching my E6 class, Step Ahead Level 10. As is the case with all Step Ahead classes, part of the curriculum is reading through a cartoon story book to learn new vocab, grammar, etc. Anywho, the name of this particular story was Who’s Taking Out the Trash? The story features a young American boy who visits his friend in Taiwan. One night, this boy is suddenly awoken by what he believes to be the familiar ice-cream truck jingle, only to be rudely disappointed when he discovers it’s the trash truck. I still remember the amused look on my students’ faces when I abruptly stopped reading and said “really???” I, too, had thought it was an ice cream truck. Damn.

But as I exit my building, arms loaded with an assortment of trash and beer bottles, it hits me. I’m living in the Real Taiwan now; a Taiwan where something as simple as taking out the trash is a community activity. The first stint of my Taiwan experience was pretty sugar-coated. I lived right by ShiDa University, an area home to many expats and Chinese with moderately strong English-speaking skills. The atmosphere was unmistakably international. There, speaking English, broken Chinese, or simply pointing at stuff sufficed for the most part. Here, it’s a whole new ball game.

 I stand at the intersection of our tiny alley and tiny lane, pretending not to notice all the gawking and staring. Finally a man approaches me and asks me where I’m from in Chinese. Elated I actually understood his question, I respond confidently that I’m from America. Of course this elderly man then mistakenly assumes I can speak Chinese, and goes on about something or rather from America. I’m completely lost. Thankfully he ushers me over to his wife, who non-verbally shows me she would like to take my recycling. Her eyes bulge out in amazement at the sight of all the beer cans and bottles I hand over to her, aftermath from our house-warming party the week before. She really doesn’t need to say anything; her facial expression gives away her thoughts. This American is definitely an alcoholic. But at least he’s a generous, environmentally responsible alcoholic. She “xie xie”s the living crap out of me. As I turn to head back to my building, I see a young man burning Heavy Money for loved ones who have passed on. He rotates between tossing money into the fire and puffing on his cigarette, almost as if to suggest he’s in a hurry to reunite with them. Once again, this is a sight that would be completely foreign in the upper-scale, almost ritzy ShiDa area.

This night has been a reminder that living here will certainly be much more of a challenge. But it will also be much more of an experience. Much more real.

View from my balcony

A small glimpse into the motor madness of Taiwan

Man burning Heaven Money. Come on man, it's June. Isn't it hot enough already?

The Things I Carried

I carried just over 12 oz. of water, hardly enough to fight the day’s heat, which has recently announced the arrival of Summer In Taiwan. 34 degrees Celsius reads the marquee outside of a local supermarket. While that only converts to about 93 Fahrenheit, the overwhelming, incessant humidity that accompanies the afternoon air makes it feel like a sweltering hundred. I begin to perspire the moment I exit my apartment building, after walking down six flights of stairs. The shower I just finished taking has been officially rendered pointless. Dripping sweat as I walk down the street I’m forced to acknowledge the weather that will be commonplace for the next 3 months. But I refuse to despair for long. I find myself suddenly grateful that at least some appropriate sunshine and clear skies have accompanied the relentless heat. Merely 15 minutes into my journey, the water has disappeared. My Sub-Zero Nalgene container is an empty vessel. I take comfort in the knowledge that, when I undoubtedly need to rehydrate, I can duck in to any of the ridiculous numbers of 7-11s sprawled throughout the city.

I armed myself with an almost-empty canister of Coppertone sunscreen, SPF 30. Once again, I severely underestimate the weather; my immortal enemy. My canister expires quickly into my journey, forcing me to intermittently seek refuge in shade to avoid getting scorched by the summer sun. Flashbacks surface of Sihanoukville and subsequent pain and peeling for weeks. Never Again. I equip myself with a New Era Milwaukee Brewers cap and cheap knock-off Taiwanese sunglasses, anything extra that might help keep me cool.

I strap on my red and black Burton backpack, purchased a few years ago with the help of my friend Kim’s employee discount at Sports Basement. My constant companion, this backpack has come along with me almost everywhere I’ve gone in Taiwan. It’s housed my dirty gym clothes, a handful of novels, water bottles, beer. It even served as a make-shift pillow when I made camp on the Kenting beaches. But today the backpack is a necessarily evil. Naturally I can’t do without it, but the combination of its weight and predominantly black exterior with the aforementioned heat make this journey even more treacherous.

I slip my fully-charged Ipod Nano into my pocket. My goal is to leave it there unperturbed, hoping to instead find a pleasant, natural soundtrack along the way. That hope quickly fades. Before long I find my thoughts nearly drowned out by the incessant roar of motorcycles and auto-repair shops operating, an orchestra that fairly accurately defines what it’s like to live in one of the densest nations in the world (Whoops, did I say nation? Sorry China). Sure enough I give in and put in my headphones. By the end of the day my battery is flashing the “low battery” warning.

Stuffed messily into my backpack is my Taipei City Map. Like the backpack, this map too has been with me through most of my time here in Taiwan. It’s taken quite a beating, been scribbled on numerous occasions, and all but lived out its usefulness. Yet, perhaps for sentimental reasons, I’ve chosen to stick with this map instead of simply grabbing another from the helpful ladies at the Taipei Main Station information kiosk. I carry the map for far more practical reasons, however. The map is an ally and a lifeline that somewhat alleviates the fear that I will become lost in Taipei, a phenomenon that has occurred far too many times as a result of my dysfunctional navigation skills, which are apparently incapable of improving. Today I’m on a mission. I don’t want to spend any unnecessary time questioning where I am or where I’m heading.

Sitting comfortably in the outer pouch of my backpack is my newly purchased Canon digital camera. I make sure to be extra cautious when handling this camera, constantly aware of my history with electronics and how sand murdered my previous camera in Kenting. The plastic cover remains over my LCD screen—I refuse to allow anything to taint the camera just yet. I’m actually impressed with my camera’s ability to catch the beauty of the day as I snap shots from a bridge overlooking the XinDian River. I hope in vain that some of the boats from the Dragon Boat Festival will sneak their way into the shots. Alas they don’t, but I smile knowing that I had been fortunate enough to capture some the day before. The pristine view of the XinDian River, with a combination of mountains and buildings adorning the background, is simply an added benefit of today’s adventure.

I strap on my water-proof digital watch that I received several Christmases ago. I typically opt to sport my other, sexier Puma watch which my brother Austin so graciously gave me as a graduation present last June. However, this is once more a decision of practicality. I need a watch that can take the heat and tell me exactly what time it is. Today I’m timing how long it takes me to walk from my new home to my school. Tired of being daily sucked dry by MRT and bus fare, I decided to seek alternative means of transportation. Noticing the relatively short proximity between the two on my map, I decided to time how long it would take for me to walk. If the time were reasonable enough, and the path more or less safe, I told myself I would buy a bicycle. My watch reads 1:11 when I first exit my apartment. Once I discover I’m walking in the wrong direction, I double back and officially start past my place on my way at 1:25. Another 14 minutes of my life wasted on directional disability.

Finally, I slide my wallet into my back pocket. Immediately aware of it weighing down my pants, I decide instead to put it in the trusty backpack. I’m carrying 5000NT on me, a significant sum of money. I do so because of the exhilarating prospect of buying a bicycle at the end of the day. I finally make it to my school at 2:36. A grueling 70 minute journey was complete, and a celebration at the local Mos Burger was in order. I spend 135 dollars on food, preparing myself to fork over another large sum of money soon for a bike. I spend the rest of the day walking around Ximending, Taipei Main Station, and the Taipei 101 Mall—where I seek a lengthy respite from the heat in Page One, which easily boasts the best selection of English books in Taipei. Unfortunately, by the time of my return at 6:30, the local bike shop has closed for the day, likely because of the holiday.

Yet the day was a triumph. Today, I got the confirmation I needed from my experiment. I got some healthy color and exercise. I got some great shots, capturing the day’s beauty. And to top it all off, I got inspiration to finally update this blog; to write a story echoing the style of Tim O’Brien’s classic novel. Tomorrow, I get a bicycle. 

The Taiwan Question

The “Taiwan Question” refers to the very unclear status of Taiwan in the international community. And frankly, it has for some time now. For more than half a century, debate has raged as to whether Taiwan is an independent country or merely part of China. I’ve always known that there was a very peculiar relationship between China and Taiwan. As a history major I was subject to hearing so much about quarrels between the two that have taken place since Japan lost control of Taiwan following the conclusion of World War II. The Chinese Civil War initially pitted the Chinese Communists vs. Chiang Kai-Shek’s Nationalist forces. After being ousted from the mainland, Chiang fled to Taiwan and established his KMT party here. At that point the fighting came to a halt. Though since there was never a peace treaty or armistice signed, technically the civil war has never ended. Since the KMT’s arrival in Taiwan, the Taiwanese have been participating in a desperate struggle to distinguish themselves from their big brother across the Taiwan Strait.

However, I was under the impression that the gravity of this issue had fizzled out some over the past 20 years or so. Considering the economic ties that bind the two countries together, I figured that both China and Taiwan had kinda dropped the issue. I was wrong.

Recently I’ve begun to learn more about recent developments in this conflict. One of my new hobbies here in Taiwan has been regularly buying the Taipei Times (one of the few newspapers published in my native yingwen tongue). At first this was primarily motivated by my desire to do sudoko and crossword puzzles. But after glancing through a few articles, I soon found this method of learning about the news far more refreshing than the computer alternative. 

The recent news about Taiwan’s estranged relationship with China probably hasn’t been worldwide news, especially considering all the developments that have taken place in Africa and the Middle East the past few months. But here, it’s been daily front-page news. Contrary to what I previously believed, this conflict is still very alive. One of the bigger incidents was a few weeks ago, when it was discovered that the WHO, in a private memo, had referred to Taiwan as a “province of China”, firing up the emotions of President Ma and countless Taiwanese. Ma criticized the WHO for taking a two-sided approach towards Taiwan. Then he followed by placing some of the blame on the rival Democratic Progressive Party, insisting that they weren’t strong enough on this sensitive issue when they were in power before Ma. But then in an act of hypocrisy and contradiction, Ma refused to protest the annual WHA meeting, which many members of government insisted they do. Honestly, it’s rather surprising how interested I’ve become in all of this considering all the disenchantment I’ve felt towards all the bickering in U.S. politics. But for me all of this is fascinating because it feels like history is still happening; that countries are still fighting for independence for greater powers, even if it’s only been a “war of words” to this point.

President MaYing-Jeou...not exactly the most popular guy in Taiwan right now. Gee, where have I seen this before?

However, the Taiwan Question is also personally interesting because my motherland has also established itself as a key player, whether it initially intended to or not. In fact, historically the U.S. has seemingly always played a role in this conflict. Immediately following the communist PRC take-over of China and the Nationalist KMT’s departure to Taiwan, the U.S. cut off all relations with China and obviously, for ideological reasons consistent with their Cold War stance, supported Taiwan in any way it could. This trend slowly began to change in the ‘70s in the wake of a humbling defeat in Vietnam. In 1972, Nixon shocked the world and traveled to China, reinitiating contact between the two world-powers. And by 1979, President Carter officially stopped recognizing the ROC and initiated full diplomatic relations with the PRC (which sure made McCarthy roll over in his grave). Since then, the U.S. has been in the precarious position of trying to defend Taiwan as a democratic “entity” whilst at the same time not pissing off an economic ally they literally can’t afford to lose.

Not surprisingly, the U.S.’ dubious position on the Taiwan Question has come under a lot of criticism lately from both sides of the Taiwan Strait. And the issue here isn’t so much interesting as it is absolutely terrifying. The Obama administration is currently trying to decide whether or not to supply Taiwan with advanced military weapons, including F-16C/D aircraft. Beijing has threatened that U.S.-China relations will be severely strained if such an action is taken, while on the other hand Taiwan is desperate to ensure itself some kind of protection. Being such a miniscule island, and considering the proximity to China, Taiwan could be in serious trouble if China ever decided to take any sort of aggressive action. As it stands now, China has several garrisons and multitude of missiles aimed at Taiwan, likely enough to send this small island to the bottom of the ocean from whence it came in just a matter of minutes. Last Wednesday provided tangible evidence of just how real this threat was to the Taiwanese. At about 12:15 p.m., a siren let out a massive wail that wouldn’t end for another 20 minutes. Not knowing what the hell was going on, I was trying to decide whether to seek shelter from a potential bombing raid, stand under a doorway in case of an impending earthquake, or seek higher ground from a massive tsunami (though this was far from likely considering Taipei’s distance from the coast). Later that day I asked the Chinese teachers at my school what the fuss was all about. They replied matter-of-factly that what had proceeded was actually a common drill here in Taiwan, practiced regularly so that the Taiwanese know what to do in the event of a Chinese assault. Oh. Well that’s reassuring.

As you can see from Exhibit A here, Taiwan has plenty reason to have a complex about its size

To add a little more suspense to the story, the former head of the ROC's military intelligence department, Lo Hsien-che has now been sentenced to life in prison for allegedly spying and sending military secrets to China for the last 7 years. If Taiwan had developed any strategic defenses to protect itself from China (including an alleged Taiwan-US military communications project), there’s a strong possibility that Beijing’s already been informed.

As I stated earlier, I find this whole situation extremely fascinating. It’s captured my focus and imagination for the better part of a month now. Yet at the same time, I almost have no choice but to follow up on it. It frightens me some thinking that there is a possibility, albeit extremely unlikely, that China might do something extreme. And what frightens me more is thinking if the U.S. would actually do anything to help in such a scenario. Sure, the odds of this happening are probably 1 in a million…but all I’m saying is there’s a chance.