Tuesday, February 28, 2012

228: Fixin' a Hole

A day of squashed plans on the last of four consecutive holidays. First, the rain washed away plans to take my daughter cycling, so we decided that this day would be ideal for some swimming in an indoor pool. However, after preparing our swimsuits and towels, and heading out the door, we found that the key wouldn't turn the lock. My wife, who had to work today, also had the same problem this morning and, as a result, had to leave the front door unlocked. So, instead of an afternoon at the pool, we had to wait for a locksmith to come over and fix the lock. Even a short trip we made later this afternoon, to return a DVD and to buy some tape at a stationery store, turned into a small disaster when Amber slipped and fell outside of Blockbuster Video, slightly skinning her knee (which didn't stop my little drama queen from milking it, a trait she inherited from her mother). As I write, though, Amber is happily plopped in front of the computer, playing a Word Girl game on the PBS Kids website. Rainy day activities for a 21st century child.

Before calling the locksmith, the two of us ventured out in the rain to buy something to eat from a convenience store. Along the way, I took this photo of our neighborhood's lone blooming cherry tree:


Amber, however, managed to do better with the same camera and the same subject:


You can see the pictures she took here


Momo isn't the brightest of felines, but he's no idiot when it comes to keeping warm


I've seen some pretty awful architecture in Taiwan, but this building is one of the more "special" cases.


Monday, February 27, 2012

227: Fore!

On a cold, drizzly pseudo-holiday (I was free this morning and afternoon, but had to go in to work this evening for three hours), Amber and I met up with my friend Steve and his two kids, plus several students of his (a father and his two sons) to hit some balls at a driving range. It was a lot of fun taking cuts at golf balls, though my game was inconsistent - towering drives would be sandwiched between shots veering too far to the right (much like the Republican Party). I'm also worried about how my shoulders are going to feel tomorrow morning. Amber didn't have much success at driving the ball, but by the end of the session she was making some shots. The most important thing was that she enjoyed herself, and she said she would like to do this again.


What Taichung 台中 looks like when viewed through the netting of a golf driving range:


Sunday, February 26, 2012

226: C'mon, gods, gimme a break

February 26, a date that rings of some historical importance in Japan (see February 26 Incident 二・二六事件), but here in Taiwan it's only the second day of an almost-four day weekend. Last night we received a call from one of my sisters-in-law in my wife's hometown of Siluo 西螺 that they had finally succeeded in trapping our semi-feral black cat Happy in a cage (see this blog entry for the background info). So today we drove south for the hour-long drive into (pan-)green land to retrieve our elusive feline. The result, however, was the same as last time. Even though Happy was in a cage, he literally wouldn't budge, clinging to the bars...er, I mean sides with all his might. When Pamela at last succeeded in getting him to let go, he scratched her arm, which in turn caused her to release him, whereupon, in a flash, he shot out of the cage and ran under the same hiding place as before. And to the best of my knowledge he's still there. I'm beginning to think we should leave him there.

So we left home empty-handed, but not before my wife suggested we first stop at the Guǎngfú Temple 廣福宮  in Siluo to do a bit of praying. Pamela isn't the most devout of Taiwanese when it comes to religious and spiritual matters, and I probably know almost as much about the arcane rituals of Taoism 道教 as she does. However, there is a matter of great importance that needs to be brought to a favorable conclusion within the next several months, and my wife felt it important enough to beseech the gods. Whether it was successful or not will have to be seen. 

Preparing the incense sticks 香

The main altar of the temple. Worshiping Taoist-style involves visiting the various altars located throughout the temple (three floors, in this case), praying to the different gods and leaving incense sticks all about.

 The view from the top floor

Not all of the sub-altars were ornately decorated

Pamela prepares to toss a pair of throwing blocks. Called buă-buēi in the local Taiwanese dialect 台語, their purpose is to interpret the gods' answer to a question asked of the worshiper. According to The Rough Guide to Taiwan:

If one (block) lands flat-side up and the other opposite, this is taken to be positive - this needs to happen three times in a row for the believer to be sure the deity is in agreement. If any other combination comes up before the third positive, the believer must start all over again. If both blocks fall round side up, this is taken as a negative, while both landing round side down is the "laughing" response, meaning that you must rephrase the question.

This explains why it took my wife a long time to complete the ritual. It also explains why Amber looks bored in the above photo. In the end, Pamela felt that the gods were not sure how to answer her question.

The front of the temple

Amber poses in front of a banyan tree outside the temple

Saturday, February 25, 2012

225: Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Waiting for it...

With this Tuesday being a national holiday, 228 Peace Memorial Day 228和平紀念日 (see 228 Incident 二二八事件), a number of businesses have chosen to take Monday off as well in order to create a four-day weekend for their employees. There are four reasons why you shouldn't be too envious of this fact: 1.) I still have to teach for three hours on Monday evening; 2.) next Saturday is going to be a make-up day in return for having this Monday off, meaning I'll have to work in the morning and afternoon that day (and Amber will have to attend her kindergarten); 3.) my wife will still have to work on the 27th and 28th as her boss apparently thinks it to be a waste of time and money honoring thousands of innocent dead people; and 4.) we can't afford to go anywhere over the long weekend, by virtue of having to make do this month on a tight budget courtesy of January's two-week trip back to the United States.

So how does one have a fiscally-responsible yet still enjoyable four-day (or 3½ in my case) stretch of holidays? I'll let you know on Tuesday. As for today (Saturday), I had hoped to take my daughter to a nearby stretch of the Tányǎshén Bicycle Trail 潭雅神綠園道 in Shén​gāng 神岡 in order to give her another opportunity to get better riding at riding a bicycle. We had the bike in the trunk of the car and were nearing the parking lot for the cycling path when it started to rain, putting paid to that plan. Still, it seemed a shame to have the car and not be able to do anything, so I made a quick detour to a spot where the Taiwan High-Speed Rail 台灣高速鐵路 tracks descend to ground-level before disappearing into a tunnel. After a few minutes' wait, Amber got to experience two trains pass by her in a matter of seconds. First, a train heading north:


Followed a few minutes later by another one going in the opposite direction:


With the weather still on the dicey side, but not wanting to go home just yet, we next drove to the Taichung Airport 台中航空站. From past experience, I knew there wasn't an observation deck, but I figured Amber might like to check out the inside of the terminal. Apparently, meteorological conditions this afternoon in the Taiwan Strait 台灣海峽 were less than ideal for flying, as the various boards showed at least one canceled flight to Hong Kong, and four or five delayed flights to Makung 馬公 on Péng​hú 澎湖, Kinmen 金門 and Hong Kong. So it came as no surprise to find the terminal packed with angry and/or bored passengers waiting around for something to happen:


Amber also took a couple of pictures, which can be seen on her photo blog, as well as below:


Amber expresses relief that she isn't going anywhere by plane today!

On the way back home, we stopped off at the Tányǎshén Bicycle Trail so that I could make use of the restrooms, then decided to stretch our legs a bit before getting back in the car. The cycling path is laid out where the tracks of an old sugar railway used to lie. Amber checked out the ersatz water stop, which reminded her of Thomas the Tank Engine:


After a lesson on the principles of steam engines, it was time to go. Thus ended the first day of the long weekend. Now to figure out what to do with the rest of the free time...

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Oh Sakura Up Yours!

"Zhongzheng (Road) Sunset"? No, not even a master songwriter such as Ray Davies would be able to find enough beauty in this typical scene to compose a beautiful song. The only thing moving about this image was the traffic.

As the Beatles once sang, I should've known better, but I couldn't help myself. The first warning sign on what is normally a quiet Tuesday afternoon was the unusual number of cars driving along Dōng​shān Road 東山路 headed toward the Dà​kēng 大坑 hiking area. The next one came when the cars started proceeding up the narrow mountain road towards the trail heads. Taking the long way around in an attempt to avoid this mysterious flow of traffic, I was surprised to find the parking lot for Trail No. 1 to be close to capacity. Even stranger was the number of cars parked alongside the road, again an extremely unusual sight for a non-holiday period weekday afternoon:


I couldn't imagine what had brought all these people out to go hiking, so I rode on to see what was going on. Just ahead the main access road leading down to Dōng​shān Road was blocked off with traffic cones, but I plunged between them on my scooter. The road became further clogged with parked vehicles, and groups of people walking alongside, with few of them looking like hikers. It wasn't long before the mystery was solved:


Cherry blossoms - what the Taiwanese call yīng​huā 櫻花, but which are more famously known in much of the rest of the world by their Japanese name, sakura 桜. This hillside is apparently a new addition to the Dà​kēng scene, for I had never noticed their presence in this area in previous years. Continuing my descent to Dōng​shān felt like descending Dante's nine circles of hell - each turn along the narrow road brought with it more parked vehicles, more cars and scooters making their way uphill and more clusters of people on foot:


While 95% of the vehicular and human traffic was ascending, I unfortunately found myself stuck behind a car that was attempting to make its way against the flow. It wasn't long before it hit a bottleneck - with cars parked along both sides of the road, there was only enough space for one car at a time to pass through. And as there was an unending stream of automobiles and scooters heading up, the driver in front was stuck (as far as I know, he might still be up there!), as was I waiting behind. After an interminable wait, I saw my chance - a gap in traffic just big enough for a scooter to squeeze through, which I proceeded to do. After a lot of careful maneuvering I finally reached Dōng​shān Road. What would normally have taken less than five minutes to ride down (or up) took somewhere in the neighborhood of 30-40 minutes!

Needless to say, hiking on the No. 1 Trail was out of the question this afternoon, even if most of the sightseers were there just to see the flowers. So I rode over to the parking lot for the Nos. 9 and 10 Trails. It wasn't surprising to see these paths busier than usual for a Tuesday - many people probably stopped by for some exercise on their way back from the sakura, and no doubt there were some frustrated hikers like myself coming here as part of their Plan B's. As a result, a number of the stalls which sell fruits, vegetables and various sundries (even shoes!) were open for business, as if it were a weekend and not a weekday afternoon:


In Taiwan, hiking and shopping go together like chocolate and peanut butter in a Reese's.

And now the rant (as if you weren't expecting one, right?). Why? Why do the good people of Taiwan, knowing full well that the crowds are going to be dense, that the traffic is going to be gridlocked, that they will have to park their cars hundreds of meters away (if not further) and walk (something they normally don't like doing), placing their bodies in jeopardy from the vehicular traffic passing by them just inches away, do so anyway? Is it really worth all the aggravation, noise and chaos (for there was precious little traffic control being done by the police this afternoon) just to see some pretty flowers on a small hillside? The actual area of blooming cherry trees wasn't that much bigger than in the photograph above - it isn't that much of an exaggeration to say that people outnumbered blossoms . To quote an old Discharge song, why, why, why but why?

If I had to hazard a guess, at least regarding this afternoon's scene, I would say the answer is accessibility. Taiwan isn't like Japan, where the sakura can be seen over most of the country, and the cherry blossom front (sakurazensen) 桜前線 is avidly tracked by many. For the most part on this island, people have to head into the mountains to see the flowers, and they do so, in droves (Ālǐshān 阿里山 being one of the places best avoided during this time of year). That isn't to say that Japan doesn't have crowd issues as well - the most popular spots for seeing sakura, such as Yoshino 吉野, are in danger of subsiding from the sheer number of visitors. But there are also more flowers to be seen in the famous places compared to Dà​kēng, and Japanese society being what it is, the chaos is better organized. But what was especially satisfying in Japan was the fact that it was rarely necessary to have to travel that far to see sakura - just a short distance by bicycle from where my wife and I lived in Yokkaichi 四日市 there was a cherry tree-lined stream that became a riot of pink and white petals in the early spring. There we were able to cycle under the cherry blossom canopy without having to dodge cars, motorcycles and people. If such a place existed in Taiwan, it would look very much like Dà​kēng did today. 

And I can only imagine what it will look like this weekend, especially on Sunday. To paraphrase Herbert Morrison: Oh, the idiocy!

Segue time: speaking of flowers, a local orchid did good in Japan, as this Yomiuri Shimbun 読売新聞 article in today's Daily Yomiuri ザ・デリー読売 explains:

"Spring Fire," a Rhynchostylis gigantea orchid grown by a flower producer in Taiwan, has won the Merit Award in the Individual Division of the Japan Grand Prix International Orchid Festival 2012.

Ching Hua Orchids Co. was the only foreign company to win an award in this year's Individual Division. The flower was also awarded the Royal Horticultural Society Trophy.

"Spring Fire" has deep green leaves and purple petals, and produces a strong fragrance. It was raised over 15 years by company President Kao Shui En, 66, and his 40-year-old son, Kao Chi Ching, the company's manager.

"As Japan was hit by the Great East Japan Earthquake 東北地方太平洋沖地震 last year, we were concerned whether [the festival] would be held this year. We're glad it was and that the flower my father and I raised received high prizes," Kao Chi Ching said.

Chris Rehmann, chairman of the American Orchid Society and head of the awards committee, praised the orchid's color, brightness and size, saying they exceeded those of prizewinning orchids in the past.

The annual festival is organized by The Yomiuri Shimbun, NHK 日本放送協会 and others. It opened Saturday at Tōkyō Dome 東京ドーム in Bunkyō Ward 文京区, Tōkyō 東京 and will continue through Sunday. 

Here's a photograph of "Spring Fire":


Sunday, February 19, 2012

Dim the lights


This was about all that was left of the 2012 Lantern Festival 元宵節 in Taichung's 台中 Wen-Hsin Forest Park 文心森林公園. The big event this year is in Lukang 鹿港, with this evening being the conclusion of the festival, but there was no way we were going to face those crowds. Unfortunately, it looked like Amber and I were a day or so late in checking out Taichung's festivities. Oh well. At least my daughter enjoyed riding around on the park's bicycle path. With workouts like today's, it won't be too long before the training wheels can come off Amber's Hello Kitty ハローキティ bike.



Saturday, February 18, 2012

In training

On a cool but sunny Saturday afternoon, Amber worked on her cycling skills, aiming for the day when the training wheels can come off. Today she rode along the Tányǎshén Bicycle Trail 潭雅神綠園道, going from Chóngdé Road 崇德街 to the trail's end in Tán​zǐ 潭子 and back again, a distance of around 3 kilometers (1.9 miles) round trip. 


My daughter holds up...something, a flower the name of which I haven't a clue. Amber called them "Banana Flowers" as the bottom part of the flower was shaped like a banana. They covered the road in places, and Amber collected a dozen of them to take home and do...well, even she hasn't figured out what to do with them yet.


The Tányǎshén Trail is packed on Sundays, but only a handful of people were out on the road this afternoon.


That stunningly idyllic rural scenery one often encounters on Ilha Formosa, the Beautiful Island.


Amber proudly poses at the Tanzi end of the bike path.


My favorite cyclist passes by her favorite kind of tree, a Banyan 榕樹.


A rather lonely Taoist temple sits in a dusty vacant lot adjacent to the bicycle trail.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Museums, Makiyo and mistreatment - 3M ranting

Momo has started making himself at home again, including on top of my daughter's table why she's trying to do her math homework. Amber doesn't seem to mind much.

The Japan Times had this Kyōdō News article in its Wednesday edition:

Japan will hold an exhibition of ancient Chinese art treasures from Taiwan's National Palace Museum 故宮博物院 in 2014, museum director Chou Kung-shin 周功鑫 said.

Chou said last week the exhibition, the first of its kind in Asia outside of Taiwan, could take place from June to September.

She said the timing and other details will be finalized when Masami Zeniya, executive director of the Tōkyō National Museum 東京国立博物館, visits Taiwan to discuss the matter with her.

To date, the treasures have only been exhibited in four foreign countries — the United States, France, Germany and Austria — all of which enacted laws beforehand to guarantee their return to Taiwan after the exhibitions.

The Diet (Japan's legislature) 国会 passed similar legislation last March to address Taiwan's concern that China could seek to have the artifacts and artworks impounded if there were no such law...

The National Palace Museum in Taipei 台北  is home to an extensive collection of Chinese antiquities, including scrolls, calligraphy, seals and vases collected by various Chinese emperors over a millennium.

The Nationalist Party 中國國民黨 took more than 650,000 art objects to Taiwan after losing the Chinese civil war 國共內戰 to the communists in 1949.

Since then, Taiwan and China have been governed separately. China views Taiwan as part of its territory and claims the treasures housed in the National Palace Museum are its own.

But thanks to the rapid thawing of cross-strait tension since 2008, the National Palace Museum has held exhibitions showcasing Chinese relics on loan from Chinese museums...

However, the loans have so far been one way, with Taiwan still balking at lending its treasures to China, citing lack of international standards for the care and return of museum pieces on loan.

The National Palace Museum is a prime example of the confusion and quandaries that arise from Taiwan's complicated postwar history. On the one hand, the collection in the Gù​gōng​ Bó​wù​yuàn​ has little to do with Taiwan itself - even the architectural style of the museum building is alien to this island - and in the eyes of some is symbolic of the KMT's attempts to force a mainland identity upon the Taiwanese people. The story of how the precious artworks were spirited out of China and into Taiwan in the waning days of the civil war served as an effective piece of propaganda in support of the Nationalists' claims to be the protectors of China's cultural heritage. On the other hand, it's hard to dispute the assertion that had the collection remained in China, much of it would've been lost in the insanity that was the Cultural Revolution 文化大革命. The museum is arguably one of Taiwan's few world-class sightseeing attractions (another being the natural wonder of Taroko Gorge 太魯閣), and anyone with even a passing interest in Chinese art would be doing themselves a disservice by not spending at least a couple of hours there on a visit to Taipei. 

Speaking of Taipei, I came across the following assertion left as a comment on a popular local blog. It concerns the recent hubbub over Japanese-Taiwanese celebrity Makiyo 川島茉樹代, and provides a glimpse into the rarefied world inhabited by North American ESL teachers here in Taiwan (and I should know - I'm one of them):

Makiyo might still be in the newspapers, but I can assure you that at least in Taipei, nobody is talking about her anymore (thank the gods, if they existed)!

The news can report on what it wants but the people are talking about Jeremy Lin, not Makiyo. For the first time in weeks, my Facebook feed (which I estimate to be at least 3/5ths full of posts by my Taiwanese friends - I have more overall foreign friends but they don't post as often) is all Lin and zero Makiyo.

Which is fantastic. She wasn't famous for any good reason, and I don't understand why she was famous at all before the taxi incident.

For all I know, the above is probably true - Lin's sudden blossoming as an NBA star (and the attempt by many in Taiwan to claim the American as one of their own - but that's a different rant) is more likely the hotter topic at the moment than the older news concerning Makiyo. What I can't grasp is the leap in logic required to make a blanket assertion regarding a metropolitan area with a population of 6.9 million based on a handful of posts put up by a few local acquaintances on a popular social networking site. After all, one's "Facebook friends" probably share many of the same interests, and would hardly be a representative cross-section of the metropolis (shades of the 1936 Literary Digest debacle?). I'm the first to admit I'm not in the loop when it comes to the local culture, but even if I were better assimilated, I could never imagine presuming to speak for "the people". 

As for why Makiyo was famous even before she helped to send a taxi driver to the hospital, it shouldn't be too hard to understand. Flip through the TV channels to have a gander at some of the numerous (and mind-numbingly childish) talk and variety shows, and you will find a television universe populated by the young and beautiful, of both sexes. These people have very limited talents, but they certainly look good on the screen. In Makiyo's case, her appeal was broadened by her bi-cultural background, and in fact she first came to public attention by speaking in Japanese in commercials for a cell phone company (オレンジはジロだ! - I think I've been here too long!). It's that emphasis on physical appearance over genuine talent as to why I've never let my daughter watch the dreck that's aired on Momo or Yoyo TV.

As for our Orientalist observer, they left another interesting comment a couple of months ago regarding another recent scandal, that of the disgraced diplomat and serial housekeeper abuser Jacqueline Liu. Responding to an assertion that such mistreatment of foreign domestic workers is a "tradition of Taiwanese employers", it was Said that:

A tradition of Taiwanese employers? I am sure people have examples to the contrary but generally speaking I have not heard of this level of mistreatment being a huge issue in Taiwan (yes, I am sure it happens, but I mean I am not aware of it being such a widespread problem that someone would actually say "all Taiwanese employers do this so we should stay out of it"). If it is an issue, it's something I'd definitely blog about because most domestic workers are women and I do try to focus on women's issues. 

I was more aware of it being a big problem in Dubai, where the main culprits are actually foreign (ie British, Australian, American) families who confiscate passports and require 24-7 work...

I know that it is also a problem in Hong Kong (although Dubai seems to be the worst)...

"I'm not aware of it, ergo it doesn't exist (or at least not in any meaningful sense)". I agree that this isn't a big issue in Taiwan, but that's probably because it has more to do with a general lack of awareness or interest in the problems facing those from Southeast Asia who are doing the dirty jobs here. The plight of "Maria from the Philippines" seems to generate a few laughs, but not much in the way of sympathy or understanding, at least in my admittedly limited interactions with the natives. One netizen didn't seem to appreciate our observer's remarks:

It's specious to try to shift the problem to Hong Kong. After all, no Hong Kong official has been arrested in the U.S.for enslaving servants.

This is a Taiwan problem.


A different kind of Taiwan problem. This KTV, the Taiwanese take on what the Japanese call a Karaoke box カラオケボックス is an establishment catering to those seeking a "healthy break" 健康休間, a euphemism for...well, a quick look at the female staff on duty there would clear up any doubts someone might have over what kinds of services are on offer. I took this photo from a public park on the opposite side of the street, where my daughter was enjoying herself on the slide at the playground there. The park, in turn, is located in one of the more upscale neighborhoods in Taichung 台中. My dismay at the apparent laxity of zoning laws in Taiwan is one of the reasons (out of many) why I'm reluctant to follow through on my wife's suggestion that we sink was little we have in the way of a nest egg into a Taiwanese dream home.





Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Fried on 'shrooms

I've been scanning the skies all day, but I still haven't seen any flying pigs. The weather forecast on TV says nothing about snowstorms in Hell. And yet something is different in this world. The China Post newspaper ran an editorial in today's edition that is, dare it be said, "even handed", "levelheaded", "insightful", nay even "rational". The piece in question, Makiyo case gives us no right to waiver in xenophobia fight, hasn't been posted on the newspaper's website yet (Update: click here), but here are some of its salient points:

(in reference to the group of taxi drivers who protested in front of the Japan Interchange Association 財団法人交流協会 demanding an apology for a "Japanese national beating up a Taiwanese person in his country")
What grounds did these drivers think they had for picketing the JIA? The next time a Taiwanese person commits a crime in Japan, should the Taiwanese authorities apologize? When a government commits an illegal or offensive act, governments and civic groups have the right to protest. But individual actions by individual citizens are just that. Protesting the Japanese government's handling of claims by former "comfort women" 慰安婦 is valid; connecting the Japanese representative office to the alleged assault perpetrator Takateru Tomoyori is not.

It's hard not to view the protest in front of the JIA as an expression of xenophobia. There were also hints of anti-Japanese sentiment on news sites, blogs or on social media sites where people made statements that strayed perilously close to racism; some comments crossed the line completely.

It should be remembered that hardly a week goes by in Taiwan without a news story about some alcohol-fueled dispute that turns violent. Our nation has plenty of thugs and gangsters as well as plenty of ignorant or even evil people. This is true across the world, in every country on the planet.

The editorial then notes that about 200 Japanese expatriates living in Taiwan have raised around NT100,000 ($3380) in a fundraising campaign for the taxi driver who was assaulted:

These Japanese people living in Taiwan are not connected to the offender in any way, and are not by virtue of being Japanese collectively guilty. But their generous actions should help demonstrate that there are kind individuals in every society, just as the alleged attacker's senseless violence demonstrates that there are uncivilized people in every society.

Whenever racism or xenophobia rears its ugly head it must be confronted and denounced. The fact cannot be overstated: the actions of Takateru Tomoyori have absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he is Japanese.

Wow. What is happening at The China Post? Has its editorial board finally realized that we are in the 21st century, that the Sino-Japanese War 中國抗日戰爭 has been over for 77 years and that Taiwan is part of a worldwide community and not merely an extension of Greater China 大中華地區? Or is the editorial an aberration, with the paper returning to business as usual in future editions? We'll have to wait and see.

This commentary should, in theory, persuade my female fan club (consisting of exactly one member) that xenophobia in Taiwan is not the sole possession of a group of Democratic Progressive Party 民主進步黨 supporters living in the southern part of the island (of whom she labels as "hicks" in a misunderstanding of the meaning of the word in its American context). I doubt it will have much of an effect, however.

Which brings to us to mushrooms. This afternoon, as usual, I headed to the hills of Dà​kēng 大坑 to do some walking. This time, though, I took a different way from my usual routes. Approaching the area from the rear (via Zhōng​xīng 中興), I parked my scooter at the No. 5 trailhead. However, instead of taking that path, I walked up an access road that eventually joined the staircase that runs along the top of the ridge. The sky wasn't as clear as it was yesterday, but the Central Mountain Range 中央山脈 could still be seen in the distance:


I walked along the ridgetop until the path reached the junction where it meets the No. 3 Trail. However, instead of taking a right and descending the No. 3, I took a left, which led to a paved road that wound its way downhill in the direction of Xīn​shè 新社. After a few minutes, the path passed by the Celestial Holy Mother 天上聖母 Temple, which offered more views of the mountains on the other side:


In all the years I've been tramping around these hills, the main hall of the temple has remained the only part of the complex with any ornamentation. The rest of the temple buildings continue on in a rough concrete state of limbo, hinting perhaps of difficulties in raising funds to complete construction. In any event, the lighting for taking pictures was much better from the rear than it was from the front:


Continuing down the lane, I passed by a number of buildings covered in black wrappings. Xīn​shè is noted locally its mushrooms, and the dark conditions are ideal for their cultivation:


Eventually, the lane came to the main road, with the choice of turning right for the hot spring town of Gǔguān 谷關, or going left and heading back in the direction of Taichung 台中, Fēng​yuán 豐原 and Dōng​shì 東勢. As if there were any choice in the matter. Before turning I passed by some cherry trees in early bloom 櫻花:


The road leading back toward Taichung was surprisingly busy for a non-holiday Tuesday afternoon...surprising, that is, until I remembered that today is Valentine's Day. Sure enough, there were a lot of young couples out for a drive (as well as other things that shall be left unmentioned). The road was lined with mushroom vendors selling their, ahem, suggestive food items:


In the end, I gave in to temptation, and bought a packet of fried mushrooms for NT50 ($1.70) from a small roadside eatery to munch on during the walk back to my parked scooter:


And that was how I spent my Valentine's Day - alone in the mountains. But don't feel sorry for me - my daughter this evening presented me with a lovely handmade card that read "For Amber's favorite Daddy", which is definitely the best gift any father could want on Feb. 14.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Going down to Hicksville

Hicks.

That what she called them. Hicks. Apparently, if you live south of the Jhuoshuei River 濁水溪 and support the opposition Democratic Progressive Party 民進黨, that makes you "an unsophisticated provincial person", as Merriam-Webster defines the word "hick". "She" is the anonymous commenter who's been peppering a recent post of mine with contradictory messages that appear to reveal a proud Běn​shěng​rén 本省人 (one whose family was living in Taiwan prior to the end of the Chinese Civil War 國共內戰 in 1949) who nonetheless seems to be a supporter of the Kuomintang 國民黨, a political party the roots of which lie in China and not Taiwan. The KMT favors the eventual "reunification" of Taiwan with the "Mainland", and during its long oppressive rule following its defeat at the hands of Mao Zedong's Communists, was responsible for the imprisonment, torture and deaths of tens of thousands of Anon's fellow countrymen (and women). In this respect, she is far from alone. Many residents of this island are proud of their distinct identity, as well as their economic and political achievements, yet continue to support the KMT, thus putting those accomplishments in possible jeopardy. I'd always assumed the KMT's support came from the maxim that all politics are local, and that if your local KMT pol continually brought the bacon home to your constituency, you would keep voting for him or her in every election, regardless of what that might mean to Taiwan's future status. But in Anon's case, she actually seems to believe in the goodness of the KMT's heart, that all on this island are treated as equals under the banner of Chinese Nationalism.

Even Caucasians. Though she still hasn't clarified what role a white boy like myself has to play in the conception that is Greater China.

Her choice of the put-down "hicks" in describing southern voters who support the DPP is a curious one, for I'm under the impression that Běn​shěng​rén such as Anon have been called as much by those who consider themselves to be Superior Mainlanders. It seems there is some kind of identity crisis going on here, but I won't proceed any further. Despite Anon's belief that Taiwan is a peaceful, harmonious society under the KMT, ethnicity issues are a dangerous minefield that a non-citizen such as myself should think twice about stepping in.

But that word "hick" still bothers me. I suppose that's because my wife's family lives south of the Jhuoshuei River, in the town of Siluo 西螺 in Yún​lín County 雲林縣. The area is a strong bastion of support for the DPP, but to best of my knowledge (for I've learned the hard way not to discuss Taiwanese politics with my wife) my in-laws side with the KMT. The reasons have to do with the family's complex background, which I won't go into here, but which I assume isn't at all unusual in Taiwan. Yet I'm probably correct in thinking that most of their friends and neighbors vote Green (meaning for the DPP), which would make them "hicks" in Anon's eyes. I guess we can go further, then, and draw the conclusion that a township such as Siluo must be a "Hicksville".

So tonight I'd like to tell you that we drove down to Hicksville this afternoon to visit my wife's sisters, and to pick up our two cats, Happy and Momo, who had been left in the care of my older sister-in-law while we were in the U.S. last month. We were able to get Momo in the pet carrier for the drive back to Fēng​yuán 豐原, but the semi-feral Happy was a different matter. Try as everyone might, it proved impossible to catch him, and when we left around 5pm he was still hiding under an old cabinet on the first floor. Knowing Happy, he'll probably stay there for a couple of days (if not longer), only venturing out when the coast is clear to eat some food and go to the bathroom.


Downtown Hicksville on a very hazy day. This Sunday was apparently an important one in the local religious calendar, for all day long we could hear the sounds of gongs and drums, as well as firecrackers and fireworks going off, as the "hicks" celebrated. Driving around central Siluo, it seemed as if every corner we turned we would run into a procession of Taoist "hicks". Amber spent much of the time with her fingers plugged into her ears. 



Ghosts are not supernatural beings. They are, in fact, the result of what happens when you attempt to take photographs through the windshield of a moving car.










Saturday, February 11, 2012

Negative Nancy

Recent news events have me wondering if, someday, my daughter is foolish enough to drink too much and assault a local, will a crowd of angry Taiwanese gather in front of the AIT 美國在台協會 and demand "dignity", "truth" and an apology from the US government?

There I go being negative again. It's obvious I'm burning with hatred about this island and its people. That's why I've been here for so long, have married a local woman and am the proud father of a beautiful bi-cultural daughter. My feelings regarding Taiwan are complex and unsettled, which seems to be too difficult a concept for some readers to grasp. Every country and society has its good points and bad, its strengths and weaknesses, its pluses and minuses, its merits and faults. There are numerous Taiwan-related blogs out there celebrating how great Taiwan is, and how swell it is to be living here. This blog isn't one of them. I like to see A Curmudgeon Abroad (like it's predecessor, Sponge Bear) as a necessary counterweight to earnest, wide-eyed odes to life on the Beautiful Island. Apparently there are some out there who don't see it the same way, for on occasion something I've posted will generate comments criticizing me for daring to criticize some aspect of Taiwan. Judgements are passed, ill-informed observations on my situation are handed down and efforts are made to get me to see the blessed Formosan light. All to no avail, for as I get older, I'm getting better at blending together stubbornness with observations based on personal experiences, with a touch of jadedness thrown in. As it says on the sidebar, I'm bound to annoy you sooner or later. Thank you for reading, and don't be afraid to dip your toes into the water. Just remember the world (of which Taiwan is a part) is painted in shades of grey, and not in black and white.

It may be difficult for some people to believe, but my daughter and I actually had a nice afternoon today. For the first time in quite a while, Amber and I went walking in the hills overlooking Zhōngzhèng Park 中正公園, spending about 90 minutes or so making our way up and down the trails. No cynicism nor hatred - just enjoying the time spent with my child on a warm winter afternoon.

Amber looks forward to the snacking of her first Granola Bar. She pronounced it to be "delicious"

On a gorgeous afternoon such as today's, the power lines seemed to go on forever


Amber got into the spirit of the Lantern Festival 元宵節 as we went out for dinner this evening