A Curmudgeon Abroad (aka Sponge Bear/Kaminoge 物語)

The old normal

2012-03-07T23:55:00.002+08:00

Would it be ethnocentric of Momoko Sakura さくらももこ, Shūeisha Publishing Co. 集英社, Nippon Animation 日本アニメーション, Fuji Television フジテレビ, Animax アニマックス et al. to complain about this unauthorized use of Chibi Maruko-chan ちびまる子ちゃん?

Well, what do you know - Hell is indeed a very hot place, and pigs are in fact grounded. After seemingly setting sail on a new course towards rational thinking and expository writing, the editorial staff at The China Post have returned to doing what they know best - churning out bizarre, schizophrenic editorials that veer so far from reality that if the Commentary page were an actual person, he/she would be committed to the local mental ward for observation.

Case in point: today's piece entitled Entrenched discrimination in Japan limits press freedom. The editorial hasn't yet been posted on the newspaper's website, but if you're the type who places great importance on logical, linear progressive thinking, you would probably risk having a seizure trying to make sense of this particular dreck. Ostensibly an observation about the overblown press coverage of the Makiyo affair, the editorial somehow veers in several different directions without ever stating a clear and concise point. Who else but The China Post could find echoes of the Second World War in a drunken brawl involving a half-Japanese/half-Taiwanese "star" of questionable talent, her yakuza ヤクザ-looking boyfriend and a Taiwanese taxi driver:

The vernacular print media, encouraged by the outcry raised by ubiquitous young social network users against (Takateru) Tomoyori and Makiyo joined in the press war reminiscent of Chiang Kai-shek's 蔣中正 eight-year War of Resistance 抗日戰爭 against Japan from 1937 to 1945, at the end of which Taiwan was restored to the Republic of China 中華民國 after 50 years of Japanese colonial rule. Newspapers wished to remind the people of the Rape of Nanking 南京大屠殺, a massacre of hundreds of thousands of unarmed people young and old after the Japanese invasion army occupied the open capital city of the Republic of China, which the Japanese referred to by the derogatory name Shina (支那).

Wow. Yes, the Japanese invasion of China, and the atrocities that followed in its wake, were acts that deserved to be condemned...in the proper place and context. A story about Makiyo and her boyfriend beating up a cabbie isn't one of them. Back on February 15, the China Post was urging its readers to be vigilant in the face of racism and xenophobia generated by Makiyo and Tomoyori. Apparently, the editorial staff has given up the fight and gone over wholeheartedly to the other side. But it gets even worse, or more comical, or both:

On the other hand, the Japanese press all but ignored their Taiwanese counterparts' brouhaha. Of course they could, and with plenty of reason. Asked for comment on the scarcity of reports on the Tomoyori-Makiyo case, Japanese press workers said it was due to the lack of press interest, given that they would only be interested in covering such an incident if it involved a VIP, Japanese or otherwise.

That certainly would be the right reason for lack of coverage in the Japanese press, but the way it was explained couldn't hide the ethnocentric superiority, which is the hallmark of Japanese media workers (so much for "push(ing) back against those who make generalizations about a group of people" - see linked Feb. 15 editorial above). Remember the two Taiwanese girls killed by a lovelorn Taiwanese boy in Tōkyō 東京 ?

Makiyo is a nobody in Japan, so it should come as no surprise that the affair has generated very little interest in her homeland. The murder-suicide case alluded to above, on the other hand, happened on Japanese soil, with all the tragic elements of a TV soap opera, so it should also come as little surprise that the media in Japan jumped all over the story. This may be hard for the writers at the China Post to grasp, but just because a story has made a spectacular splash here in Taiwan doesn't mean it has to have the same hold on people elsewhere. Japanese TV viewers and newspaper readers might conceivably be more interested in some other scandalous news that might not have any bearing at all on Taiwan or its people. Or, to put it another way, who is actually demonstrating "ethnocentric superiority" here?

By the end of the editorial, it turns out that what is really bugging the staff at The China Post isn't memories of the war, or the lack of interest shown in Japan toward Maikyogate. No, what's chapping the Post's hide is the existence of Japan's notorious "press club" system 記者クラブ, which acts to reserve the juiciest tidbits of news to only those members of a particular kisha club. Often, this serves to exclude foreign media, though Japanese journalists as well also find themselves on the outside if they aren't members of a particular club. There's a right way to criticize such institutions - ask Karel van Wolferen. Bringing up totally irrelevant, pointless allusions to World War II and resorting to hypocritical insults based on ethnocentric generalizations, while almost completely contradicting one of your own editorials put out less than a month before, isn't the way to go about it.

If things work out as planned, I won't have to bother with this sorry excuse for journalism much longer. Instead, when I need a fix of heavily-slanted reporting, I can watch Fox News or listen to Rush Limbaugh.

Light at the end of the tunnel?

2012-03-05T16:53:00.000+08:00

A not uncommon scene in my neighborhood on a Sunday morning - a Taoist procession slowly making its way along the narrow streets. This happens several times a year, and comes complete with firecrackers, drums and gongs (the firecrackers had all been set off by the time I had grabbed my camera). Someone in this area obviously pays for these affairs, because the processions almost always stop for a while at the entrance to our apartment building, with the noise getting amplified as a result (both daughter and cat are none too happy about this). This particular procession also featured a female "singer" standing in the back of one of the lead trucks. Though I wasn't able to get a glimpse of her from my window, most likely she was clad in "hot" clothing - "hot", that is, if your idea of "sexy" was formed during the Eisenhower administration. Though I didn't get to see her, I had no problem hearing her, as she "sang" for the benefit of the gods.

But I'm not complaining. I don't want to jinx anything, but it appears that my wife's pleas to the Taoist gods may have finally been answered. In fact, on Saturday afternoon she traveled back to her hometown of Siluo (Xīluó) 西螺 in Yúnlín County 雲林縣 to pay gratitude to them. Details will be divulged later once things start to firm up.

For now, though, life in this part of the world goes on as usual, both at the local level and in the political arena, as this AFP article from Japan Today makes clear:

China and Taiwan on Saturday criticized Japan for giving Japanese names to disputed islands in the East China Sea claimed by all three parties in a long-running diplomatic row.

China and Japan have a lengthy dispute over an uninhabited but strategically coveted island chain known as Diàoyútái 釣魚臺 in Chinese and Senkaku 尖閣諸島 in Japanese.

China’s foreign ministry said moves by Japan to rename scores of islands in the chain was “illegal and invalid,” according to a statement posted on the ministry’s website.

“No matter what names Japan has given to the islands affiliated to Diàoyú island, it will not change the fact that these islands belong to China,” Chinese foreign ministry spokesman Hong Lei said in the statement.

China’s State Oceanic Administration has released names in Chinese for the islands in the chain, which it put at 70, the official Xinhua news agency said Saturday.

Separately, Taiwan protested to Japan for renaming four islets in the contested chain and unveiling the names on Friday.

“We have lodged a stern protest and reaffirmed our stance that the Diàoyú islands are part of our territory,” Taiwan’s foreign ministry said.

Japan has said it plans to finish naming 39 uninhabited islands by the end of March.

The islands, which are believed to be surrounded by oil and gas reserves, have long been a source of friction between China, Japan and Taiwan.

China considers Taiwan to be part of its territory and has long sought political reunification with the island. Japan officially recognizes China rather than Taiwan but maintains close trade ties with the island.

Notice the sentence "which are believed to be surrounded by oil and gas reserves" in the next-to-last paragraph of the above article. Japan took over control of the islands in January 1895 as Terra nullius, or "no man's land", and administered them as part of Okinawa Prefecture 沖縄県 until the United States took over control of the Ryūkyū Islands 琉球諸島 at the end of the Second World War. The U.S. returned the Senkakus to Japanese control along with the rest of Okinawa in 1972. From the time of the Japanese annexation in 1895 until the late 1960's, neither the Republic of China 中華民國 nor the People's Republic of China governments contested the claim to ownership. Not, that is, until oceanic surveys in the mid-to-late Sixties suggested the potential for those above-mentioned oil and gas reserves. Naturally, of course, it turned out the Senkaku Islands have always been a part of China, and must someday be returned to the loving embrace of the motherland. Along with all that potential gas and oil, plus a lot of fish as well.

Other things that go on as usual here is the Taiwanese love of the Japanese language. I haven't bothered much lately with taking photos of signs, but they are still out there, and as abundant (and in some cases misused) as ever. Here are a couple of recent examples:

I'm not sure if the 名屋 on this sign is supposed to be read as the Chinese míngwū or the Japanese naya, but the intention behind ラーメン, rāmen noodles, is fairly obvious.

Umm, barbecue バーベキュー

228: Fixin' a Hole

2012-02-28T17:24:00.001+08:00

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.

227: Fore!

2012-02-27T23:04:00.000+08:00

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 (Táizhōng) 台中 looks like when viewed through the netting of a golf driving range:

226: C'mon, gods, gimme a break

2012-02-26T20:47:00.000+08:00

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 (Xīluó) 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 (Dàojiào) 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 (xiāng) 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 (Táiyǔ) 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

225: Planes, Trains and Automobiles

2012-02-25T19:29:00.001+08:00

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 Shéngāng 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 (Mǎgōng) 馬公 on Pénghú 澎湖, Kinmen (Jīnmén) 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...

Oh Sakura Up Yours!

2012-02-21T22:47:00.000+08:00

"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 Dōngshān Road 東山路 headed toward the Dàkēng 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 Dōngshān 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 yīnghuā 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 Dàkēng scene, for I had never noticed their presence in this area in previous years. Continuing my descent to Dōngshān 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 Dōngshān 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 Dàkēng, 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 Dàkēng 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":

http://taiwantoday.tw/public/Data/222013452671.jpg / http://taiwantoday.tw/mp.asp?mp=9

Dim the lights

2012-02-19T19:19:00.000+08:00

This was about all that was left of the 2012 Lantern Festival 元宵節 in Taichung's (Táizhōng) 台中 Wen-Hsin Forest Park (Wénxīn sēnlín gōngyuán) 文心森林公園. The big event this year is in Lukang (Lùgǎng) 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.

In training

2012-02-18T19:51:00.000+08:00

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 Tánzǐ 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.

Museums, Makiyo and mistreatment - 3M ranting

2012-02-16T23:31:00.000+08:00

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 (Zhōu Gōngxīn) 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 (Táiběi) 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 Gùgōng Bówùyuàn 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 JeremyLin, not Makiyo. For the first time in weeks, my Facebook feed (which Iestimate to be at least 3/5ths full of posts by my Taiwanese friends - I havemore overall foreign friends but they don't post as often) is all Lin and zeroMakiyo.

Which is fantastic. She wasn't famous for any good reason, and I don'tunderstand 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 amsure people have examples to the contrary but generally speaking I have notheard of this level of mistreatment being a huge issue in Taiwan (yes, I amsure it happens, but I mean I am not aware of it being such a widespreadproblem that someone would actually say "all Taiwanese employers do thisso we should stay out of it"). If it is an issue, it's something I'ddefinitely blog about because most domestic workers are women and I do try tofocus on women's issues.

I was more aware of it being a big problem in Dubai, where the main culprits are actuallyforeign (ie British, Australian, American) families who confiscate passportsand 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 problemto Hong Kong. After all, no Hong Kong official has been arrested in the U.S.for enslaving servants.

This is a Taiwanproblem.

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 (jiànkāng xiūjiān) 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 (Táizhōng) 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.

Fried on 'shrooms

2012-02-14T22:11:00.000+08:00

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, "evenhanded", "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 Dàkēng 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 Zhōngxīng 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 Xīnshè 新社. After a few minutes, the path passed by the Celestial Holy Mother (Tiānshàng Shèngmǔ) 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. Xīnshè 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 (Táizhōng) 台中, Fēngyuán 豐原 and Dōngshì 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!

Going down to Hicksville

2012-02-12T23:03:00.000+08:00

Hicks.

That what she called them. Hicks. Apparently, if you live south of the Jhuoshuei River (Zhuóshuǐ xī) 濁水溪 and support the opposition Democratic Progressive Party (Mínjìndǎng) 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 Běnshěngrén 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 (Guómíndǎng) 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 Běnshěngrén 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 (Xīluó) 西螺 in Yúnlín 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 Fēngyuán 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.

Negative Nancy

2012-02-11T22:07:00.000+08:00

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

A Malayan Night Heron perhaps?

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

For Greater China

2012-02-11T13:19:00.002+08:00

This is dedicated to the anonymous commenter on my previous post, Mental forecast: cloudy, with a chance of resignation:

From today's edition of the Taipei Times newspaper (Makiyo, friend charged with assaulting driver):

Earlier in the day, a group of about 20 members of the National Taxi Drivers Union submitted a protest letter to the Interchange Association, Japan 財団法人交流協会, in Taipei, asking the association, which serves as the de facto embassy in the absence of official diplomatic ties, to apologize to the nation “for the tensions” caused by the dispute.

Union chief of staff Kuo Ya-hsiung (郭雅雄) said the incident had dragged on for so long and that none of the alleged perpetrators were telling the truth.

“We want dignity! We want the truth!” the protesters shouted, holding banners that said: “Find the truth” and “Violent Japanese drinkers not welcome in Taiwan.”

Although Lin’s case was an isolated incident, Japan’s representative association should say something about a Japanese national beating up a Taiwanese in his own country, said Cheng Chuan-yi (鄭釧義), an executive committee member of the taxi drivers’ association.

“They [the association] should apologize to Taiwanese and Mr Lin to help ease tensions between the two countries [caused by the incident],” Kuo said.

If this isn't xenophobia, then I don't know what is. This reminds of the incident last year in which my scooter was hit by a female scooter rider speeding through a red light, who then sued me for damages! In front of an arbitrator she demanded an apology from me on the grounds that my losing my temper with her after she struck me (I yelled at her, and sprinkled my remarks with a few "F-Bombs") was somehow an "insult to all Taiwanese women". The arbitrator wouldn't have any of that, however, and lectured her for trying to turn a routine traffic accident into an international incident. Perhaps he should have a word or two with the National Taxi Drivers Union.

If the above still doesn't convince you, Anon, that there's an ugly undercurrent running through the Makiyo case, there's also this from the same article:

Several well-known people, including former leader of the Bamboo Union gang “White Wolf” Chang An-lo (張安樂) — who has made public statements about the affair — and Yulon Motor (裕隆汽車) chairman Kenneth Yen (嚴凱泰), have indicated their intent to donate money to Lin (the injured taxi driver).

Chang, a wanted fugitive who has fled to China, is the founder of the China Unification Promotion Party. One taxi association, the Grand Chinese Taxi Association, is affiliated with the party.

His involvement in the matter in Taipei appears to have been made to please China and spark anti-Japanese sentiment.

Welcome to reality, my anonymous commenter. It ain't so pretty, eh?

Mental forecast: cloudy, with a chance of resignation

2012-02-09T23:21:00.000+08:00

Like the photographs below, my mood hasn't cleared much since returning to Taiwan last Monday.

It certainly didn't take long for the rut to set in again, now that I'm back to the daily routine of teaching mornings, afternoons and some evenings. My students are as friendly and interesting as ever, but I've been at this for far, far too long. Unfortunately, the ennui of life on Formosa hasn't been alleviated by any good news from back home. Worries over the health of one parent remain an ongoing concern, and I feel a strong sense of guilt for being so far from home when I could/should be making myself useful in some capacity back in the States. However, suddenly uprooting a family from one country and plopping them down in another without sufficient time to prepare for the uncertainties regarding income, education and cultural readjustment doesn't seem like the right thing to do just this moment.

I do prattle on...

Speaking of money, we've been relieved of NT30,000 ($1018) to fix an oil leak in our Nissan Cefiro 日産・セフィーロ. I've never been very good with matters of engineering and mechanics, which is another way of saying I'm hopeless when it comes to cars, and especially, the workings of their engines. Add to my general ignorance the fact that all the repair matters were handled in Mandarin Chinese by my wife, and I'm almost completely out of the loop here. All I know is this was the wrong time (as if there were ever a right one), financially speaking, for our automobile to fail on us. Having missed half the month of January in order to go back to the U.S. for our annual visit, our revenue stream for the next pay period is about to shrink considerably. The forecast for the next four weekends or so calls for lots of domesticity.

Finally, there's Amber. Not to worry, she's in good health and still her usual energetic self. However, this morning she asked if she could change kindergartens because "the other kids don't want to play with me". I'm sure this is only one of life's minor episodes, and just a normal part of growing up, but I'm understandably sensitive to my daughter's situation. She is, after all, the only bi-cultural child in her entire kindergarten - there may be other students whose mothers might be Vietnamese, for example, but they wouldn't be so obviously "different" as my little girl. As one of my Facebook friends pointed out, Amber will never be considered as "one of us" by her Taiwanese friends and classmates (though probably not in a hostile way), and as long as we stay here, she's just going to have to learn how to handle that. Or we could move back to the U.S. where people like my daughter are more commonplace and therefore more likely to be accepted for who they are.

Bi-cultural offspring have been having a hard time of it lately in Taiwan, as this AP article in Wednesday's Japan Today pointed out:

Prosecutors say Taiwanese-Japanese starlet Makiyo 川島茉樹代 has been barred from leaving Taiwan pending a probe into her alleged involvement in the beating of a taxi driver in Taipei.

The Taipei Prosecutors Office said Tuesday the 27-year-old singer is accused of kicking a taxi door after her companion, who allegedly was drunk, dragged the driver out and beat him.

Makiyo has apologized and pledged to stop drinking in the wake of the Thursday night incident.

Takateru Tomoyori of Japan was released on bail pending formal charges, possibly attempted homicide, according to prosecutors.

The driver suffered a brain hemorrhage and two fractured ribs.

News reports said the taxi driver asked Tomoyori and Makiyo to get out after they refused to wear seat belts.

This story has dominated the headlines here, which isn't surprising as celebrity-related scandals grab the attention of Taiwanese just as much as they do the citizens of other countries. For those of you who don't know, Makiyo is what the Japanese call a tarento タレント, an entertainer of minimal talent who nonetheless becomes a celebrity, and is constantly seen on vapid talk and variety shows. The product of a Japanese father and a Taiwanese mother, she became famous here because of a combination of having a nice body paired with a Japanese background (though she speaks Mandarin fluently). As to whether she has any actual singing abilities, you can do a YouTube search to listen and decide for yourself (or just watch this). What's disturbing here is the undercurrent of xenophobia that appears to be fueling the hype over this "scandal". Sure, entertainers in Asia do seem to have an exaggerated sense of themselves, and as a result, are constantly getting into scrapes with the common people, but the outrage in this case might well be amplified by the fact that Makiyo isn't "one of us" (her companion most certainly isn't). It's a strange situation when a reactionary rag like the China Post actually comes to her defense, sort of.

At least the weather cleared up enough earlier this week to allow for a bit of hiking. I'm getting flabby again after a long period of relative inactivity combined with a poor diet (plus my Taiwan-related insomnia has returned in the post-jet lag period), so it was with some sense of relief to be walking again along the trails in the Dàkēng 大坑 area. The photos below didn't turn out very well, but I really didn't want to post any pictures of Makiyo, so here you go:

Looking down from Trail 7 towards the Taichung Intercontinental Baseball Stadium 臺中市洲際棒球場

Trails 1-5 are shrouded in mist

Don't even get me started on how I missed what, by all appearances, was a very exciting Super Bowl XLVI. The last couple of years our trips back to the States coincided with the biggest sporting event on the American stage, but the calendar wasn't working in my favor this time. The Giants-Patriots clash was televised in a number of other countries, but Taiwan wasn't one of them. I certainly couldn't find the game on my local cable provider. Unlike in Japan, where the American game of football アメフト is popular at the university level (there's even a Rice Bowl to decide a champion!), the gridiron game is virtually unknown here. In fact, the only NFL game I've ever attended was a preseason clash between the San Francisco 49ers and the Los Angeles Rams (before they moved to St. Louis) at the Tōkyō Dome 東京ドーム in August of 1989 (the American Bowl, which the Rams won 16-13 - thanks for the getting the tickets Jun!), while my Australian friend Josh and I once attended a college all-star game at the Yokkaichi Dome 四日市ドーム circa 2005. Yet here in Taiwan...

Enough whingeing already. I'm back, and I'm just going to have to deal with it.

Trapped!

2012-02-05T19:31:00.000+08:00

In between rice crops, the fields behind our apartment complex come alive with the unfortunately-named rapeseed plants.

It's been almost a week since we returned from Washington state in the USA, and I'm still in the throes of my post-trip depression. The usual culprits for my annual funk - the ugly architecture, the discourteous-bordering-on-dangerous motorists and scooter riders, the ensuing month of relative poverty from having missed work during half of the previous month - have been reinforced by ongoing worries combined with guilt over health problems in the family back home and the inevitably of aging while seemingly stuck in a foreign land that long ago lost its allure. Today's sky isn't the only thing that's blue around here.

Add to this downer cocktail a shot of auto trouble. Yesterday, our Nissan Cefiro sprung a massive oil leak that has the car out of action until at least Tuesday. The repair bill is likely to be in the area of NT30,000-40,000 ($1017-1356), which makes for extremely poor timing, financially speaking. The next thirty days or so are going to be a lot more quieter and uninteresting than usual, which is what happens when you can't afford to go out.

So what does one do with oneself on a pleasant sunny Sunday when one is sans automobile? We still have a 100cc scooter for getting around, but there's no way I'd let my daughter ride on one. Thus, the only option for getting out of the home and doing something is to hoof it. Unfortunately, Taiwanese cities and towns are not designed with foot traffic in mind. For example, the local Carrefour and an adjacent park are theoretically within easy walking distance of our apartment building. However, to get there on foot would involve having to negotiate a couple of narrow roads without the benefit of sidewalks, all the while brushing elbows with speeding cars and scooters passing by just inches away.

Which left us with one, and only one, option - the nearest elementary school, a 10-minute walk away on (thankfully) quiet neighborhood streets. In Taiwan's densely-packed urban areas, where greenery and park space are at a premium, school grounds often serve as substitute parks for the local residents, especially on the weekends. My daughter had a good time this afternoon playing with a couple of boys on the school playground, while all around us other kids were shooting hoops on the basketball courts, middle-aged men and women were walking laps around the school's track and families were engaged in, well, family activities. Had the school not been so close to us, this would have been a pretty boring afternoon. Still, Taiwanese suburbia (like it's American counterpart) lives and dies by the automobile (and scooter), and I'm looking forward to getting our vehicle back as soon as possible.

Sporting her new, pink Seattle Mariners hoodie, which we picked up from the Seattle Team Shop in Silverdale, WA's Kitsap Mall, Amber clambers up the jungle gym. At six years of age, Amber isn't that much younger than the average age of the Mariners' projected starting lineup for Opening Day this year.

The elementary school apparently has some history to it. Here Amber is standing in the gǔbēitíng 古碑亭, the characters of which mean "old pavilion housing a stele (or steles, in this case)". The significance was lost on me, however.

Virtually every burg in Taiwan has a Zhōngzhèng Road 中正路, and ours is no exception. Named in honor of the brutal and corrupt dictator Chiang Kai-shek 蔣中正, in this area the road is a busy thoroughfare connecting Fēngyuán (railway) Station 豐原車站 with the No. 1 Freeway 中山高速公路.

Amber pauses outside a shop selling Buddhist and Taoist artifacts. The masks she's pointing to are frequently seen in Taoist temple festivals.

Not the best of times

2012-01-31T21:56:00.001+08:00

My daughter tucks into a hot dog at Narita International Airport 成田国際空港 as we kill time waiting for our flight to Seattle.

Back to the grind. Our once-a-year visit to see my family in the Pacific Northwest came to an end yesterday as we returned to Taiwan from the U.S. I wish I could say it was a great visit, but I can't this time. My mother is not in the best of health these days, and she has been staying in hospital rooms and nursing homes since the start of the new year. My father is coping well under the circumstances, but he understandably feels the strain at times. My sister has been doing her best to help out, but it isn't easy for her considering the distance between her home and my parents' house. I wish I could be there to do what I can, but I feel helpless being so far away.

It didn't help matters that I arrived in Washington with a raging case of the flu, which combined with the jet lag to knock me out for the first 20 hours or so I was back at my parents' place (I went to bed shortly after noon on a Friday, and didn't wake up until 8am the following morning). Being sick prevented me from seeing my mother at the nursing home for the first few days I was back in Bremerton, and then, just as I was recovering, we got snowed in for a couple of days. It was a full week before I finally got a chance to see how Mom was doing.

The end of our visit wasn't much better than the beginning. My mother had a setback that necessitated her being moved out of the nursing care facility and back into the hospital, while Amber spent most of the long flight back to Taiwan throwing up in the airsickness bags...and on her father. Still, despite the circumstances, it was wonderful being back home and with family again. My dad appreciated having his granddaughter around the house, and Amber's presence also cheered my mother up a lot. Pamela was a great help with the household chores, which also did a lot to lift Dad's spirits. Hopefully, my mother can return home soon and bring a sense of normalcy back to everyday life. I only wish I could've been able to stay at least a few more days longer.

Some scenes from our two-week visit:

The Pacific Northwest was hit by a large snowstorm during the latter half of our first week back. Our area received six inches (15 centimeters), and we were housebound for a couple of days. The temperature outside when these photos were taken was 27°F (-2.8°C).

Mother and (especially) daughter enjoy the white stuff. They probably saw more snow on this trip than most Taiwanese will ever see in their entire lifetimes.

While some people had fun making snowmen and snow angels, and throwing snowballs, others had to work. This was the first time in my life that I ever had to shovel snow from the driveway (I grew up in Southern California and Sacramento).

The scene in the backyard...

...and down the road.

Amber explores the backyard in the evening.

We also went out into the snow at night, when the temperature had risen to a balmy 30°F (-1.1°C).

It wasn't all snow on this trip. On January 21, Amber turned six years old. We had a small party for her at home, which included cake and presents. Here Amber shows off her new Ken doll to her grandad:

The green-icing white cake in the shape of a pig was personally selected by my daughter at the local Safeway:

Amber did pretty well on this visit home. The day after her birthday was the eve of the Lunar New Year, and she received a red envelope filled with cash. Note the satisfied smile:

The weather improved significantly during the second week of our trip back, and we were finally able to get out and do some things. Here's Amber by the waterfront in Poulsbo:

Amber also asked to be taken to the Kids Discovery Museum on Bainbridge Island. Her favorite part was getting to be the cashier at the grocery store, but she also had fun being a dentist:

Mother and daughter pose on the streets of downtown Bainbridge:

I was hoping to get outside and do a lot of walking on this visit, but the weather and my mother's condition precluded much of that. Still, I did take Amber out for a short stroll along the Cedar Creek Trail in Silverdale:

Some family shots:

My sister Karen, Pamela, Amber, my nephew James and my father

Dad has been a pillar of strength during these trying times.

Being back in the States also means being able to (over)indulge in the comfort foods. For me, these include Cap'n Crunch cereal, maple bars, Hostess cupcakes and fruit pies, Reese's peanut butter cups, two tacos for 99¢ from Jack-in-the-Box...and craft beer. My daughter, however, was insistent that I only drink amber ales:

I could use a Fat Tire Amber Ale now, for as I write this, I'm in the throes of the post-visit blues. Only the depression has been made much worse by my mother's situation. Why the hell am I still here in Taiwan? I don't belong here, I've never felt comfortable in this society and I'm just wasting my time and talents going nowhere fast in an ugly part of the center of an ugly island (the urban areas, anyway), yet I can't seem to break free and get out. I'm most definitely not looking forward to returning to work tomorrow and falling back into the same stifling rut.

My belated New Year's resolution is to avoid reading those "golly gee whiz, this sure is a beautiful, swell place with lots of friendly folks. I'm so happy to be here" blogs for fear of aggravating my already sensitive stomach.

Baltimore vs. Washington: A Taiwanese Rivalry?

2012-01-11T22:38:00.000+08:00

A Taiwan Tobacco and Liquor Corporation 台灣菸酒公司 "research and development center" located close to my daughter's kindergarten. Although there's a large poster of a bottle of beer on the side of the building, cigarettes are produced here. You can often smell the aroma of rolled fags (that's British English for those who aren't in the know) as you pass by.

From the sports desks of the Associated Press, courtesy of Japan Today:

Taiwanese left-hander Wei-yin Chen 陳偉殷 and the Baltimore Orioles have agreed to a three-year contract worth $11,338,000 (NT337.9 million), a move aimed at improving a starting rotation that struggled last year.

Chen went 36-30 with a 2.48 ERA in 117 games, including 88 starts, over the last four seasons with the Chūnichi Dragons 中日ドラゴンズ of Japan’s Central League セントラル・リーグ. The 26-year-old will become the first Orioles player born in Taiwan.

Orioles executive vice president Dan Duquette says Chen has “exceptional command” with a 92-94 mph (148-150 kph) fastball and a hard breaking ball as his “out pitch.”

Chen gets a $250,000 (NT7.45 million) signing bonus and salaries of $3,072,000 (NT91.5 million) this year, $3,572,000 (NT106.4 million) in 2013 and $4,072,000 (NT121.3 million) in 2014. The Orioles have a $4.75 million (NT141.5 million) option for 2015 with a $372,000 (NT11.1 million) buyout.

The China Post's article on Chen's deal adds some additional details:

If Chen makes the Orioles roster, he will become the first Taiwanese player to have played at Japanese professional baseball before singed by a U.S. Major League team.

He will also become the first local player to sign multi-year contract with an MLB team.

Chien-ming Wang 王建民 of the Washington Nationals had previously sought a multi-year contract during his years with the New York Yankees failed in the attempt.

Chen's reported deal with the Orioles pays him just under US$4 million a year and therefore does not rank as the highest single-year salary paid to a Taiwanese player in the U.S.

That record is still held by Wang, who made US$5 million (NT149 million) in 2009 in his last year with the Yankees...

...The southern city Kaohsiung (Gāoxióng 高雄)-native will be the second starting pitcher signed by new Orioles GM Dan Duquette out of the Japanese leagues this offseason, joining Japanese lefty Tsuyoshi Wada 和田毅.

The Orioles previously signed the 30-year-old Japanese southpaw under a two-year, US$8.15 million (¥627.4 million) deal.

Chen is also the first Taiwanese player to be signed by the Baltimore team.

Though the Orioles hope Chen will fit into their starting rotation, the Taiwanese lefty will face stiff competition, with eight pitchers potentially vying for only five starting slots.

Though their teams are in different leagues, Baltimore and Washington are natural geographic rivals, and should meet every season (especially from 2013, when the Houston Astros move from the National League Central to the American League West). Should Wen make the Orioles' rotation, you can expect a great deal of local interest when his team and the Nationals play each other.

Further clarification

2012-01-10T20:01:00.000+08:00

Today's Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ has the Kyōdō News 共同通信社 account on the apparent end to the case of the tragic murders of two Taiwanese students last week:

A 30-year-old Taiwanese man wanted on suspicion of fatally stabbing two female students from Taiwan at their apartment in Tōkyō's 東京 Taitō Ward 台東区 on Thursday has committed suicide in Nagoya 名古屋, police said Monday.

Chang Chih-yang 張志揚, who had been missing since Thursday, slashed his throat with a knife while being taken in for questioning by police, Tōkyō police said.

Questions are being asked as to why the police failed to search and handcuff Chang before taking him into custody, but for all intents and purposes, his death brings this terrible episode to its sad conclusion.

Today was a glorious one weather-wise, which only added to the disappointment I felt when I discovered I wouldn't be able to get in one final hike before our departure to the U.S. this Friday. I had intended on doing a loop along Trails 5, 2 and 3 by approaching from the Zhongxingling (Zhōngxìng lǐng) 中興嶺 area, a ridge located behind the Dakeng (Dàkēng) 大坑 mountain region. To my bitter surprise, however, the narrow lane leading to the No. 5 trail head was pretty much impassable due to some road surfacing work. Instead of the chance of trying out a new hiking/walking route, I had to content myself with riding my scooter around the top of the ridge. At least the scenery made up for some of the frustration I was feeling.

The mountain in the background is the one traversed by Dakeng trails 1-5.

Looking down on the mushroom farms of Xinshe (Xīnshè) 新社

The Central Mountain Range 中央山脈 looks large in the background

A road sign pointed the way to a "Radio Station", so I duly followed. The signs outside indicated the complex belonged to Chunghwa Telecom (Zhōnghuá diànxìn) 中華電信, but the camouflaged antenna suggested something else. I wasn't sure about the legality of taking pictures of the site. If it is illegal to have done so, I'll save the government the time and trouble of tracking me down - it was me. I did it.

The power of pork - a new, expensive-looking and unused pedestrian bridge spanning a dry riverbed, in an expansive area filled with vacant lots and roads with little vehicle traffic.

Clearly speaking

2012-01-09T23:43:00.000+08:00

As you can see in the pictures above, we've had some really clear weather recently. The first two photos were taken around noon today, while the last one was shot in the late afternoon. The line of mountains in the distance are part of the Central Mountain Range 中央山脈, and it isn't often that they can be seen through the usual haze and smog.

Also apparently becoming clearer is the search for the killer of the two young Taiwanese women murdered last Thursday in Tōkyō 東京. The Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ ran the Kyōdō News 共同通信社 story on the not-so-surprising suspect in the case:

A Taiwanese man is being sought in connection with the fatal stabbings of two female Taiwanese students in Taitō Ward 台東区, Tōkyō police said Sunday.

An arrest warrant has been issued for Chang Chih-yang 張志揚, 30, who has been missing since Thursday after telling his roommate at around 10 a.m. that he was going to Ōsaka 大阪. Chang was a student at the same Japanese language school the slain women attended.

Police suspect Chang of killing Lin Chih-ying 林芷瀅, 22, and Chu Li-chieh 朱立婕, 24, at around 9 a.m. Thursday at an apartment rented by the school as a dorm, police said. The two women each had about 10 stab wounds, mostly around their necks, and the cause of death was apparently blood loss, police said.

Chang is believed to have been fond of Lin as he recently complained that she had been giving him the cold shoulder since mid-December. He was spotted by security cameras near the crime scene at around the same time as the murders, police said.

On the day they were killed, Lin promised to go on a trip with male friends from the school. They were to meet at a subway station at 9:30 a.m., but when Lin failed to show, her friends contacted a school official who used a duplicate key to enter the apartment where the women were found.

Lin was found lying in the hallway in a jacket and boots, while Chu was found bleeding in the room's bottom bunk bed.

Japan Today has a similar article on its website.

When this story first broke, I had a feeling that the killer might have been another Taiwanese. Not because I think a Japanese is incapable of murder (they are, just like anybody else), nor because Taiwanese people are more prone to killing (they certainly aren't). The reason I thought so is that it seemed that in most cases where foreign students are murdered, the killer or killers often turned out to be compatriots, or at least fellow classmates. I don't have any crime statistics to back up that last assertion, but it is a fact that in most murder cases, the victim(s) knew their killer(s). Add to that the tendency among students studying abroad to socialize with classmates from their home countries, and/or with others studying at the same school, and the odds increased in this particular case that the main suspect would turn out to be from Taiwan.

According to the latest news, which I heard from a student this evening, Chang committed suicide, and it appears the case is being brought to a close. A sad end all around.

The Americanization of Amber...an ongoing process

2012-01-07T20:52:00.002+08:00

My daughter the ballerina

My daughter the cyclist

My daughter the quarterback. After a bit of bicycle riding on the Dongfong Bicycle Trail 東豐自行車綠廊 this afternoon, I introduced Amber to some of the finer points of football, American-style. Using a colorful Nerf ball that she received as a stocking stuffer a couple of Christmases ago, I showed my daughter some aspects of the gridiron game (aka That Which Is Not Soccer) - hiking, punting, passing and scoring touchdowns. This evening, I played for her some highlights on YouTube from recent college and NFL games. Next week, when we'll be back in the United States on a visit, she said she wants to watch some playoff games on TV with me.

Is this what happens when a father wishes for a son instead of a daughter? Hardly. When my wife was pregnant, it was Pamela who was hoping the baby would be a boy - my wish came true when it turned out our child was going to be a girl. No, exposing my daughter to the game of football is part of the continuing process to promote an American identity within Amber. Being a bi-cultural child (yes, it's PC, but the term is much preferable to the "mixed" moniker which still prevails here in Taiwan), my little girl is going to draw from two different worlds as she develops as a person. As long as we reside in Taiwan, the Asian half of her background will naturally dominate. Though her English is very good, Amber is still a better speaker when it comes to conversing in Mandarin Chinese. Going to a regular kindergarten, as opposed to a bilingual school such as the one I teach at on weekday mornings and afternoons, ensures that a lot of Taiwanese cultural values are being instilled into her. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it's still important that she is equally exposed to American things, so that she doesn't feel like a stranger in a strange land when me make our annual visits back to Washington state.

Football is but a small part of the process (as is baseball, at least as it's played in the Major Leagues). Every morning while eating breakfast, Amber will watch a DVD from the U.S. Some of her favorite shows include Elmo's World (from Sesame Street), Dora the Explorer, The Backyardigans and Curious George (and breakfast itself usually features foods such as English muffins and waffles, and the occasional bowl of cereal). When she wants to play computer games, web sites such as Nick Jr. and PBS Kids are the preferred sites. In this manner, Amber is constantly exposed to the same naturally-spoken English that American kids hear coming out of their TV sets and computer speakers (before I'm accused of cultural imperialism, my daughter is also a big fan of The Wiggles, and has no problem with their Australian accents and expressions - anything age-appropriate is fine, as long as the English is natural). One rule that has been strictly followed in our household is that if a program originates from an English-speaking country, our daughter can only watch it in the original language - no episodes of Dora or Thomas the Tank Engine dubbed into Chinese for our young one.

Music is another area where I've tried to get Amber comfortable in English. On YouTube I've created a playlist of famous American folk songs, ranging from This Land is Your Land to Yankee Doodle, as well more contemporary favorites like Puff the Magic Dragon and classic early Beach Boys numbers. When we're in the car, we keep the radio tuned to ICRT, Taiwan's only English-language radio station. The music is generally generic Top 40 stuff, but Amber enjoys singing along, and is developing a repertoire of favorite pop songs. We're also working on her reading skills, and she recently went through a book of Dick and Jane short stories, just as her old man did when he was around six years old.

Speaking of elementary school, Amber will begin first grade this September. Although we've considered private, bilingual (Chinese-English) schools, at this point it looks as though we'll enroll her in a local public school. If that happens, I intend to rearrange my work schedules so that I'll be free in the afternoons to go over with her what she will have learned that day at school, but doing so in English, of course. I'd also like to teach her other subjects, such as U.S. history - Founding Fathers, the American Revolution, Lincoln, slavery and the Civil War and so on - as well as work on her grammar, reading and writing skills.

That's the plan, anyway. September is still months' away, and the best-laid plans have a way of being altered by forces not under our control. For the immediate future, as in the second half of this month, Amber will be in the USA, spending time with her grandparents and her aunt, watching cartoons on TV, eating at Denny's and IHOP, and perhaps getting a chance to play in the snow or see a star-filled night sky.

Unfortunately, we'll be back in Taiwan when Super Bowl Sunday rolls around.

Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原 in the late afternoon

Perspective

2012-01-06T23:29:00.002+08:00

Downtown Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原 on a chilly, drizzly Friday evening

My day got off to a bad start this morning when I realized that I couldn't find my bank book or ATM card. Despite an extensive search of the apartment, not the mention the scooter and car, neither item could be located. In the end, I had to give up a morning of work (along with a mornings' worth of pay) in order to go downtown to the bank, and apply for new ones. Not the best way to begin the day, but in the grand scheme of life, it was an extremely trivial and minor annoyance. From Japan Today came this story of two Taiwanese women who were stabbed to death in their apartment in Tōkyō 東京 to things into their proper perspectives:

Two Taiwanese women were found with stab wounds to their necks in their 2nd-floor apartment in Tōkyō’s Taitō Ward 台東区 on Thursday morning, police said. The two women, aged 21 and 23, were taken to hospital where they were confirmed dead.

According to Fuji TV フジテレビ, the two women were Japanese-language students at the nearby Intercultural Institute of Japan. The apartment building was rented by their Japanese language school as a dorm for the students.

One of the women was supposed to leave for the school with two male Taiwanese friends at 9:30 a.m., but when she didn’t show up, the two alerted school authorities, Fuji reported. A teacher used a duplicate key to get into the apartment where he found the two women, and alerted police.

A tragic story with a local angle such as this one has naturally attracted a lot of media interest here in Taiwan, though this morning's TV news programs were devoting a lot of coverage to Chen Shui-bian's 陳水扁 temporary release from prison in order to pay his respects to his recently-deceased mother-in-law. NHK News (Channel 107 in my area) also gave the story prominent coverage. To become a parent who has outlived his/her child is a terrible fate that I would never wish on anybody.

Returning to things that don't really matter...

Pictured above is a 330ml bottle of Strawberry Beer. According to the label, it's "The Best Fresh Strawberry Beer in Taiwan Which is Brewed with Local Non-toxic Natural Strawberry". AFAIK, it's the only strawberry beer brewed in Taiwan. When I first saw it at the Yumaowu Capita'n Supermarket 裕毛屋開福登連鎖超市 on Chongde Road 崇德路 in Taichung (Táizhōng) 台中, I had hoped it was a rare example of a Taiwanese craft beer. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a new product from the Taiwan Tobacco and Liquor Corporation 台灣菸酒公司, the state-owned behemoth responsible for the Budweiser-like Taiwan Beer 台灣啤酒. Still, I bought a bottle anyway, as one should keep an open mind about these sorts of things. Strawberry Beer turned out to taste more like strawberry cola, and despite the 9% alcohol content figure printed on the label, it had the same effect as a soft drink. At NT150 ($5/¥380), it was a waste of money, but I suppose credit should be given to TTL for at least trying something different.

Out with the old, in with the...old

2012-01-05T00:16:00.000+08:00

A picture of my class of third-graders, taken yesterday afternoon at the cram school where I work. Many of the children are bundled up because even though the outside temperature was just around 15°C (less than 60°F), the lack of central heating (as you would find in the U.S.) or kerosene heaters (commonly used in Japan during the winter months) means that the concrete-and-tile classrooms can get extremely chilly. The girl in the lower right is Cherry, one of my brightest and most inquisitive students. She loves nothing better than to draw, and her caricatures are quite good. I wonder, though, if the Taiwanese educational system will eventually grind that love of art right out of her. The "examination hell" system that constitutes schooling in this country begins to kick in from the fourth grade.

It may be a new year, but 2012 begins with a same old tired story. As the BBC and other news outlets have reported (article and video), the Senkaku Islands 尖閣諸島 are back in the news again. China is upset that a small group of Japanese citizens, including a couple of local politicians from Ishigaki Island 石垣島, which has administrative jurisdiction over the Senkakus), made a brief landing on one of the islands on Tuesday. The Chinese government issued a formal protest, and a dozen rabid Chinese nationalists attempted to set sail for what they refer as the Diaoyu Islands, or Diaoyutai (Diàoyútái qúndǎo) 釣魚台群島. It appears that cooler heads will prevail over this latest incident, however, as authorities in Hong Kong moved to stop the planned flotilla, while police in Japanese are investigating the matter as the Japanese who ventured to the Senkakus landed without permission.

While the media are characterizing this as a Sino-Japanese dispute, AFP's report on the story does make brief mention of Taiwan's position:

"Taiwan also protested to Japan. 'We reiterate that the Diaoyu islands are part of our territory and we oppose any remarks or actions by Japan that violate our sovereignty,' said foreign ministry spokesman James Chang.

Taiwan’s de facto embassy in Tōkyō 東京 has been instructed to lodge a formal protest to Japan, he added."

(link to the full article in Japan Today)

Territorial disputes between nations are complicated affairs (the BBC has a short Q&A on the Senkakus), but basically Japan annexed the islands in early 1895, declaring them to be Terra nullius ("territory which has never been subject to the sovereignty of any state, or over which any prior sovereign has expressly or implicitly relinquished sovereignty" - Wikipedia). The Senkaku group became part of what is now modern-day Okinawa Prefecture 沖縄県. For decades, the Chinese government seemingly accepted the Senkakus as Japanese territory, and made no claim to the island group when the United States took over administration of Okinawa at the end of the Second World War - the Chinese Communist rulers in the early 1950's even went so far as to include the Senkakus (using the Japanese name instead of Diaoyu) in demanding independence for American-controlled Okinawa. It wasn't until geologic surveys in the mid-to-late 1960's suggested the possibility of oil and gas reserves in the waters around the Senkakus that the rival governments in Taiwan and China began asserting sovereignty over them. Control over the islands returned to Japan in 1972 as part of the reversion of Okinawa from American to Japanese control, and the dispute has continued since then.

For the longest time, a key pillar in Taiwan's claim to the Senkakus was that supposedly in 1940 a Tōkyō court ruled that the islands should be under the jurisdiction of Taiwan (at the time a Japanese colony) and not Okinawa. However, there appears to be little evidence of such a ruling having ever been handed down, and mentions of it have disappeared in recent years. Beijing frequently trots out the "indisputable sovereignty over the Diaoyu Islands which have been an inherent part of China since ancient times" line, with its underlying inference of "once Chinese, always Chinese". It may not happen over the Senkaku Islands, but somewhere down the line there is going to be a serious clash between 21st-century notions of international law and China's aspirations to re-establish the boundaries of the Manchu Empire of the 17th and 18th centuries.

Monkey see

2012-01-03T22:25:00.000+08:00

2012 is going to be an "unnerving year for Northeast Asia", according to the editorial writers at the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ. Elections are going to be held in Russia, South Korea, the United States and, of course, here, the results of which could bring about substantial changes in regional politics and relations:

"The first ballots will take place in Taiwan, where both presidential and parliamentary elections will be held together for the first time on Jan. 14. President Ma Ying-jeou 馬英九, who took office four years ago, is battling Democratic Progressive Party 民主進步黨 nominee Tsai Ing-wen 蔡英文, and at this point the race is too close to call.

The most notable feature of the Ma presidency has been the calming of cross-strait relations and there is a fear that a Tsai victory will roil the relationship as did the last DPP president, Mr. Chen Shui-bian 陳水扁, who was forthright in his support for Taiwan independence. Ms. Tsai has tried to dampen concern but the Beijing government worries that lightning will strike twice.

Nonetheless, a Tsai win could prove destabilizing. Not only because Beijing fears a DPP victory, but because China is undergoing a leadership transition of its own as President Hu Jintao and Prime Minister Wen Jiabao turn over their offices to the fifth generation. Authoritarian societies are inflexible at the best of times, and changes at the top, even if planned, exacerbate hardline tendencies as followers jockey for position.

There is little inclination on the mainland to tolerate Taiwan's democratic foibles, but China has learned to be low key with its complaints, recognizing that overt intervention is only likely to antagonize Taiwanese voters. No one wants cross-strait relations to deteriorate — and they do not have to, regardless of the election outcome — but the congruence of two leadership changes is likely to generate friction regardless of intent."

The best outcome for Taiwan would be a Tsai victory over the corrupt, blood-stained Chinese Nationalists, aka the Kuomintang 中國國民黨. However, what Taiwan needs is often not what the major players in Northeast Asia desire. "Stability" is the operative word here, and stability means having a Taiwanese leader who would do his best to keep the Chinese placated. Tsai may be the right choice, for both moral and historical reasons (she would be the island's first female president if elected), but there is no guarantee the Taiwanese electorate will make the right call. Just as large segments of the working poor in the United States continually cast their ballots for Republicans in congressional and presidential elections, so too do many Taiwanese voters vote against their own best interests. These people might strongly identify with Taiwan and not with China, yet they continue to elect (and reelect) KMT candidates. The lure of pork barrel politics often triumphs over concerns for the dangerous erosion of national identity.

Fortunately for Taiwan, we'll be out of the country on election day. Due to complex Freudian family relationships, my wife is a strong supporter of the KMT, but thanks to the lack of absentee voting here, she won't be able to cast a ballot before we leave for the U.S. That's one less vote for the blue side. I'm not allowed to participate in the electoral process here (nor would I want to), but I've done what I can to help ;-)

Politics is a noisy business in Taiwan, but at least I was able to escape some of that this afternoon by fleeing to the mountains of Dakeng (Dàkēng) 大坑. I took an easy walk along Trail No. 5 - easy in the sense that I usually approach this trail by first climbing the No. 1 (or No. 2) Trail, then finish the hike by descending the No. 2 (or No. 1), which makes for over 2½ hours of steady progression. Today, however, I cut out the steep ascent/descent by approaching the start of the No. 5 Trail from the rear, by way of Zhongxing Mt. 中興嶺. This effectively lopped off around 90 minutes from my usual trek, but as I prefer the longer sojourns, I'll revert to the traditional approaches the next I do the No. 5. As it was, much as changed on the trail since my last visit. New wooden staircases have been constructed, and in some places the path has been widened. There were more people than usual on this trail today, perhaps because of the easier accessibility. Shorter walking times, easier trails and the lack of good views - though it was sunny and warm in Dakeng this afternoon, haze obscured both the city of Taichung (Táizhōng) 台中 to the west, and the Central Mountain Range 中央山脈 to the east - could have made for a disappointing day out.

Thank god for the monkeys. While walking along the ridge past the point where the No. 1 Trail joins the top, I had to answer the call of nature. Venturing off into the forest to take care of business, I heard the familiar grunts and sounds of heavy movements through the trees. In the distance, behind an orchard, were several monkeys cavorting in the foliage. They were too far way for me to get any decent photos, but I was close enough that they noticed my presence, and were shaking the branches at me in an effort to scare me off. After watching them from afar for a while, I returned to the trail, and in just a matter of moments, came across a small group of four macaques 台灣獼猴. These ones were much closer, and while leery, nevertheless made no attempt to run off. As I result, I was able to take these shots and videos:

No matter how many times I encounter macaques while hiking in Dakeng, I never get tired of stopping to watch them. I'm fortunate that I have time on a weekday afternoon to hit the hills, for on weekends, when the noisy hordes swamp the trails, I'm pretty certain the monkeys retreat into the depths of the forest. I'm not particularly happy about having to live where I am, but I do appreciate the chances to interact with nature that I have in my area. It helps to keep me sane, and I'll need all the sanity I can preserve if Ma gets another four years to try and bring this island closer to China.

2012 Taichung Restaurant

2012-01-01T21:40:00.000+08:00

Happy New Year, 新年快樂 and 明けましておめでとうございます to one and all. May this year be a great one!

My family welcomed in 2012 this afternoon by paying a visit to my friend Steve and his family in Taichung (Táizhōng) 台中. Before doing so, however, we treated ourselves to a nice lunch at a theme restaurant located along the Art Museum Parkway (měishù lǜyuándào) 美術綠園道 in the western part of Taichung. 1924 Shanghai Restaurant (xīnyuè wútóng) 新月梧桐 attempts to evoke the splendor of the glory days of pre-World War II Shanghai, with old photographs adorning the walls and antiques on display in glass cases throughout the establishment. Among the dishes we had for lunch were seafood rolls, tofu with crab meat, lamb and crunchy eel. Everything was very tasty, and well worth the expense. We can't afford to eat this well every outing, but we certainly got the new year off to a delicious start.

My wife and daughter pose inside 1924 Shanghai. At this point, you're probably wondering why there aren't any mouthwatering photographs of the food, or any more shots of the restaurant's interior. That's because I started off 2012 by forgetting the check the battery level on my digital camera. After this photo had been taken, it was "That's all, folks" for any more pics (you can follow the above link to see more of 1924 Shanghai). It wasn't until we were outside, and taking a stroll along the parkway, that the thought occurred to me that I could use my cell phone in place of the digital camera:

I do hope that "d'oh!" isn't going to be my buzzword for the new year.

The Road Taken

2011-12-31T21:52:00.000+08:00

My daughter Amber ponders (with her eyes closed) which road to take - the Houfong Bicycle Trail (Hòufēng Zìxíngchē Lǜláng) 后豐自行車綠廊 going to the left or the Dongfong Bicycle Trail (Dōngfēng Zìxíngchē Lǜláng) 東豐自行車綠廊 branching off to the right. The promise of riding in a tunnel made the decision an easy one for her - in the direction of Houli it was to be.

Stopping en route to admire some scenery

The Railway Valley Winery. The signs read "Since 2003", but this building is a more recent attraction along the bicycle trail. Inside, it's possible to sample the fruit of the vine, but even though I liked the film Sideways, and have enjoyed the finest vintages available in Ptuj, Slovenia, I declined. Varieties on offer such as "Longan Mead" didn't sound very thirst-quenching, and the bottles featuring personalized wedding pictures on the labels, while admittedly a nifty gift idea, hardly appealed to that inner snob...I mean sommelier. And though it may be difficult to believe, given my carefully-honed persona of being a modern day Renaissance Man, I actually prefer beer over wine. There's a reason why I named my little girl "Amber".

The rear garden of the Railway Valley Winery. You could almost be forgiven for thinking you were somewhere in Europe...until you looked at some of the neighboring buildings.

Amber crossed that bridge when she came to it.

After riding partway through the tunnel (part of a disused section of train track that now functions as the bike path), Amber decided to turn around and head back in the direction of whence she came, on an ultimately fruitless quest for an ice cream cone. On the way back, we passed this Japanese-style home. Modern-type Japanese houses are very popular in Taiwan - considering how ugly most contemporary Taiwanese dwellings are, it isn't difficult to understand why.

Amber navigates the many twists and turns of life

The bucolic rural fishing hole

Despite the fruitless search for ice cream, and the less-than-ideal climatic conditions, Amber had a good time this afternoon riding on the trail. It was a nice way to close out 2011.

Trying to keep my dinner down

2011-12-29T20:11:00.002+08:00

Scanning the headlines on the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ website this morning, my eyes were drawn to one of the commentary headings in the "Opinion-Editorial" section - North Korea's Khrushchev (link). Curious as to how such a comparison could be made, I clicked on the link to the article and found that it was written by none other than Gregory Clark, former Australian diplomat and longtime contributor to the newspaper. If you're not familiar with the man or his writings, do a Google search of "Gregory Clark Japan Times". If you have any sense of moral decency, you may find the results to be more than a little disturbing. Clark is an unapologetic apologist (pun intended) for authoritarianism and social discrimination. This is a man who has penned numerous articles attempting to defend or excuse the actions of the Chinese leadership, while never forgetting to pat himself on the back for having played a role in opening up of Australian-Chinese relations in the late 1960's/early 1970's. He has long earned the scorn of many in Japan's resident foreigner community over his attempts at justifying or whitewashing the often blatant forms of discrimination faced by many non-Japanese in the country. Don't confuse Clark for being on the same side with the Japanese right wing, however - when it comes to Japan's relationships with its neighbors, especially China, Gregory always manages to find a way to lay all the blame for the various regional disputes entirely on his host country (Clark has lived in Japan for a number of years, working as a journalist and university president). He no doubt fancies himself as a sort of provocateur, but his ideas generally come across as offensive to anyone who believes there should be a place for morality in international relations, while his articles are filled with half-truths and, in some case, outright fabrications.

This morning's exercise in revisionism concerns Kim Jong-il and North Korea. The opening paragraphs set the tone for the obnoxiousness that follows:

"The commentaries after Kim's death tell us repeatedly that the deceased North Korean leader was reclusive, erratic, enigmatic and dangerous. Yet almost all the few outsiders who actually met the man came away impressed by his intelligence, moderation, rationality and openness."

You don't rule a nation with an iron fist for seventeen years without possessing a high degree of intelligence. Kim had to have been an extremely shrewd individual to have been able to have remained in power despite presiding over the economic decline of his country and, especially, the devastating food shortages that led to a famine that may have killed up to 3.5 million people by some estimates. Clark would no doubt dispute such figures as being an example of unreasonable and unwarranted Western hostility to Kim's regime, but nowhere in his article will you find any mention of all of the hardships endured by the North Korean citizenry under the benevolent guidance of their "Dear Leader". Clark also makes no reference to the personality cult built up around Kim Jong-il, which is understandable as doing so would seem to undercut any evidence of the man's so-called "rationality". Clark doesn't dwell, either, on the ironic juxtaposition of Kim's "openness" while at the helm of the world's most secretive country.

Clark next goes on to place the blame for the failure of the 1994 Agreed Framework between the United States and North Korea (Wikipedia article link) squarely on

"...U.S. congressional conservatives and Pentagon hawks (who) moved to deny those agreements. They said the North Korean regime could not be trusted and was, in any case, about to collapse. But Pyongyang did not collapse, and Kim has since used various carrot-and-stick tactics — everything from cultural invitations to rocket and nuclear testing — while trying to bring the U.S. back to its 1994 promises..."

It is true the Agreement failed in large part due to Congressional opposition and insufficient funding, but Clark fails to mention to us here that it was the North Koreans' admission in 1998 that they had maintained a secret uranium enrichment program that led to the Agreement's demise. And only in Clark's world can "cultural invitations" be considered on an equal level with "rocket and nuclear testing" when it comes to international negotiations.

Japan, of course, fares no better than the U.S. when it comes to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK):

"Sublimating its justified anger over North Korea's abduction of Japanese citizens in the 1970s and '80s, Tōkyō 東京 was able in 2002 to gain a remarkable apology from Kim and the conditional return of five abductees, in exchange for Tōkyō promises to normalize relations and pay long overdue reparations. But fearing this would lead to detente with the hated communist regime, the Japanese right-wing, led by (Shinzō) Abe 安倍晋三, swept into action. It demanded, and got, a Tōkyō withdrawal of its promise to accept Pyongyang's conditions for the return of the five former abductees. It then began to use dodgy DNA data to prove that Pyongyang was lying when it denied holding on to other alleged abductees. This then allowed it to argue that Pyongyang's alleged lies justified reneging on the 2002 normalization promises.

Images of other abductees languishing in a North Korean hell — the beautiful but almost certainly deceased, Megumi Yokota 横田めぐみ, especially — were used to gain wide public support for severe sanctions which, we were told, would force Pyongyang to back down. In fact all it has done, predictably, is force Pyongyang to clam up. Relations with North Korea are now totally frozen, which means even less chance of any further abductee return — if such a chance ever existed."

For those of you unfamiliar with what Clark is referring to, you can read the Wikipedia entry on the North Korean abductions of Japanese citizens. In the late 1970's/early 1980's, up to as many as 70-80 Japanese (though only 17 are officially recognized by the Japanese government) were kidnapped by North Korean agents, and taken from Japan to North Korea, where they were used to train the regime's agents in Japanese language and culture (the woman who blew up Korean Air Flight 858 while posing as a Japanese tourist was taught by one of the abductees). After years of denial, in a 2002 summit meeting with then-Japanese Prime Minister Junichirō Koizumi 小泉純一郎, Kim Jong-il surprisingly admitted to 13 such abductions having occurred, and revealed that five of the unfortunate victims were still alive. The five were eventually allowed to "visit" Japan, but only on the condition that they return to the "workers' paradise". Once back home, however, they all decided, not unsurprisingly, to stay in the land of their birth, and Pyongyang responded by criticizing the Japanese government over its "broken promises".

Though he uses the term "justified anger" in this article, Clark has in the past tried to excuse the kidnappings by claiming that they were in revenge for the use of forced Korean labor by Japan during its colonization of the Korean peninsula. And while trying to appear sympathetic, it is utterly repulsive that he finds nothing wrong with first forcibly abducting the five Japanese nationals, and then demanding that they be returned to North Korea as the price for letting them see their loved ones in Japan again after the long enforced separation. In Clark's world, it is the Japanese political right which is almost solely to blame.

After casting doubt on the North's attacks on the South last year, Clark moves on to why the DPRK has pursued the development of nuclear weapons:

"With his hopes of closer relations with Tōkyō and Washington dashed, Kim seems to have had no choice but to resume rocket and nuclear testing, and to turn increasingly to China, which North Korea had previously distrusted. His son and successor Kim Jong Un will almost certainly have to follow the same path while giving even more power to North Korea's hawkish military."

Again, Japan and the United States are to blame, for the North Korean regime had no other choice but to pursue the nuclear option. And it is interesting that Clark fails to make mention of the fact that it was the collapse of the Soviet Union, and with it the generous aid the USSR had provided to Pyongyang, that forced North Korea to become more dependent on China.

The Khrushchev comparison mentioned in the article's headline comes in the next-to-last paragraph:

"History will show the late Kim to have been North Korea's Khrushchev. The former Soviet leader also sought detente with the West only to have his hopes dashed by U-2 flights and other U.S. hawk activities, which in turn strengthened the hand of the Soviet hawks. Khrushchev was ousted and that cruel, wasteful and meaningless exercise called the Cold War had to continue for another two decades. Presumably the same will happen over North Korea, with the regime there able to use foreign threats as an excuse for continued domestic repression."

History, apparently, shows a different face to Gregory Clark. Nikita Khrushchev came to power in 1953 following the death of longtime despot Josef Stalin. Though he was one of the dictator's closest advisers, and a supporter of the bloody purges of the 1930's that turned the Soviet Union into a nightmarish police state, Khrushchev made his mark on history by repudiating the worst excesses of Stalin's reign of terror. Though certainly no democrat, he was responsible for lessening the repression within the USSR through what is now known as the Khrushchev Thaw. Nevertheless, the "Gulag Archipelago" remained in existence, and despite his pursuit of detente with the West, it was Khrushchev who ratcheted up Cold War tensions by approving the construction of the Berlin Wall and the stationing of nuclear arms in Cuba, the latter leading to the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962. Nor should it be forgotten that in the same year he made his secret speech denouncing Stalin (1956), Khrushchev sent in the Red Army to brutally crush the Hungarian Revolution.

Kim Jong-il also succeeded a brutal dictator, succeeding his father, Kim Il-sung, upon the latter's death in 1994. Unlike Khrushchev, however, there was no attempt to launch a North Korean version of "De-Stalinization". Rather, Kim Jong-il played the Confucian role of dutiful son, elevating his deceased father to the status of "Eternal President of the Republic". Under the rule of the junior Kim, North Korea remained one of the world's most repressive societies, with an extensive gulag system of its own which imprisons thousands of its subjects in internment and reeducation camps (Human Rights in North Korea). The population, of course, has suffered in other ways as well, namely as a result of the food and famine crises (hunger is still a serious concern in the DPRK) and the crippling power shortages. Despite the breakdown in the functions of the centrally-planned economic system, Kim Jong-il made few attempts at reform, clinging to the elder Kim's policy of self-reliance, known as juche (link). And as for detente, it can be argued that the younger Kim played a far more dangerous game of concessions, threats and brinkmanship than his father ever did, at least in the last few years of Kim Il-sung's life. Khrushchev was overthrown by more conservative elements in the Soviet leadership, who feared his reforms had gone too far. What followed Khrushchev's ouster was the stagnation of the Brezhnev years, and the eventual downfall of the USSR. In North Korea's case, however, the stagnation set in long before the senior Kim left the scene, and greatly worsened during the rule of Kim Jong-il. History is going to remember Kim Jong-il, but not as the bright, rational Khrushchev-like figure Gregory Clark imagines him to have been.

Not that this will matter to Clark, though, who concludes his commentary in such a way as to leave a bad taste in the mouth (and by blowing his own horn in the process):

"The one hope is that the shift to China will have a moderating influence. China, too, once had to suffer the same hawk on hawk confrontation as the former Soviet Union, until rescued by China's Gorbachev — the moderate and intelligent premier Zhou Enlai relying on the 1971 so-called ping-pong diplomacy ( in which I was able to participate). For what it's worth, the "En" in Zhou's name is the same ideograph as the "Un" in the name of Jong Il's son. It means benevolent and kind."

It took 27 years of stagnation and decline following the forced retirement of Khrushchev before the peoples of the Soviet Union finally able to break free from a failed economic, political and social experiment that resulted in the needless deaths of millions of people (and with the exception of the Baltic states, the struggle is arguably still continuing in the former republics of the USSR). Can the people of the socialist paradise that is the Democratic People's Republic of Korea afford to wait that long?

Klicking my heels

2011-12-27T18:59:00.002+08:00

There was hardly a cloud in the sky this afternoon, and virtually no chance of rain, yet it was pouring out of one section of embankment along the Tungfeng (Dōngfēng) Bicycle Trail 東豐自行車緑廊 (as can be seen in the above video clip). For some odd reason, I decided to walk this trail once again (I've done so on several occasions, which you can read about here, here and here). This time, I gave myself a two-hour window in order to see how far I could get in 120 minutes of continuous walking from the start of the trail in Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原. The answer? Almost to the other end, in Tungshih (Dōngshì) 東勢, where the walls weep water. In fact, when the alarm on my cell phone went off, signaling that the two hours were up, I was roughly at the 10.5 kilometer (6.5 miles) mark, not far from the finish line, 12 kilometers' (7.5 miles) distance from the starting point. So why didn't I go all the way? Two hours in one direction was all that I had this afternoon if I wanted to get back in time to pick up my daughter from her kindergarten before 5 o'clock.

I didn't take very many pictures today, mainly because I'd taken plenty on my previous walks (see above links for photos), and the scenery hasn't changed any since my last visit. The Tungfeng Bicycle Trail can get ridiculously busy on weekends, when the route is clogged by cyclists who ride bikes the same way they drive cars - i.e., with little regard to anyone around them - but on a sunny weekday afternoon it makes for a very pleasurable outing. After four hours, eighteen minutes and approximately twenty-one kilometers (thirteen miles) of walking, my feet are killing me right now, but I have no regrets. The next time I'm out there, I'll aim to go all the way.

The owners of this house have built an ersatz wooden addition onto the rooftop of their typical Taiwanese concrete box, complete with faux chimney.

Posing with the not-so-mighty Tachia River (Dàjiǎ Xī) 大甲溪 in the background.

聖誕快樂!

2011-12-25T19:55:00.001+08:00

In case you haven't already figured it out from the date of this post, the Chinese characters in the title above translate as "Merry Christmas" (Shèngdànkuàilè). Here is my daughter showing off the goodies she received this morning:

This was the first "girly" Xmas for Amber in terms of the gifts she was given - her first Barbie doll ("Computer Engineer Barbie"); a Hello Kitty ハローキティ kitchen set, courtesy of Old St. Nick (last year he brought her a Hello Kitty bicycle); and a Pretty Fashion Shop featuring a doll named Mimi. The sharper-eyed among you, however, might notice a dinosaur and a toy train ("Salty" from Thomas & Friends, as a matter of fact) - proof that my little girl hasn't gone completely over to the pink side just yet.

This day has been a relatively quiet one for the family. After the ritual of opening the presents in the morning and talking with my parents over the phone, we had lunch in a Chinese-style teahouse, took a walk in the afternoon along one of the bicycle trails here in Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原 and ended the day with a visit to my in-laws' home. Though white Christmases are pretty much out of the question in this country, it was good that the holiday (well, not in Taiwan) fell on a Sunday this year.

Here's hoping that you and your family also had a nice Christmas, wherever you are in this world.

Merry Christmas, メリークリスマス, 聖誕快樂 and Happy Holidays to you all!

Making the big time?

2011-12-24T22:02:00.000+08:00

Amber shows off her Christmas drawing. As I write this, she has gone to bed, waiting for Santa to bring her some gifts. Momo, one of our two cats, shows typical feline indifference.

There is one Taiwanese baseball player currently plying his trade in Japan who knows what he would like to get from Father Christmas this year - a nice, fat Major League Baseball contract. Jason Coskrey, a staff writer for the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ, makes the call:

"With the majority of the baseball world caught up in the hoopla surrounding (Yū) Darvish's ダルビッシュ有 posting, and the record $51.7 million (¥4.04 billion/NT1.6 billion) fee the Texas Rangers doled out for his rights, there hasn't been too much attention paid to Hisashi Iwakuma 岩隈久志 and Chen Wei-yin 陳偉殷 this winter.

Both probably expected to be in MLB last season, but had to stay in Japan a little longer. Now the duo, who also both dealt with injuries in 2011, are ready to make the jump for real this time...

Chen is a bit of a mystery.

The Taiwanese lefty has been among the best pitchers in the Central League セントラル・リーグ since 2009, when he posted the lowest ERA (1.54) in the CL since 1968.

At 26 years old, he's still slightly unpolished, with his future potential a major selling point for some MLB observers.

'His ceiling looks lower than most thought just a few seasons ago, yet I'm hearing that 12 teams are interested,' said the MLB scout. 'His control is excellent, but his command is not. Strikes at the letters over the fat part of the plate are going to travel much farther in the big leagues.'

Chen is 36-30, with one save, a 2.59 ERA and 1.09 WHIP (walks plus hits per innings pitched) in five seasons with the Chūnichi Dragons 中日ドラゴンズ.

He's been helped to an extent by playing home games at pitcher-friendly Nagoya Dome ナゴヤドーム where, since 2008, he's 18-7 with a 1.97 ERA in 51 games versus 18-23, 2.84 in 64 outings everywhere else.

Chen made his first start of 2011 on May 6, after struggling with a left adductor injury in the spring. His performance suffered early in the season, but he regained most of his velocity and some command of his slider as the year progressed.

'Usually a team doesn't have to pay what Chen and his agent may be asking for to find out if a 26-year-old can improve his command and stay healthy,' the scout said.

'The fact that he already bridged the gap between Taiwan and Japan very well works in his favor; he is diligent and driven. He could be a great guy to have in the pen.'"

Only six players from Taiwan have ever appeared in a game at the Major League level, and the results have been mixed. Chen Chin-feng 陳金鋒 was the first, making his debut with the Los Angeles Dodgers in 2002. A once-highly regarded prospect, he never realized his full potential and returned to Taiwan for the 2006 season, where he's now currently an outfielder for the Lamigo Monkeys (Lamigo桃猿).

Tsao Chin-hui 曹錦輝 had some success pitching for the Colorado Rockies, but a series of arm injuries limited his playing time. He eventually came back to Taiwan, only to get involved in one of Taiwanese baseball's never-ending string of gambling scandals, and was booted from the game as a result.

As a Los Angeles Dodger, Kuo Hong-chih 郭泓志 became the first Taiwanese to appear in an All-Star Game, pitching in the 2010 contest. However, he suffered from an anxiety disorder during the 2011 season which saw him spending time on the disabled list, and he's currently a free agent.

Infielder Hu Chin-lung 胡金龍 showed some promise when he was named the MVP of the 2007 All-Star Futures Game while a member of the Dodgers organization. However, his career has sinced stalled, having appeared in only 118 big league games over five seasons, including 22 in 2011 with the New York Mets, his current organization.

Reliever Ni Fu-te was the first player to make the move from Taiwan's Chinese Professional Baseball League (CPBL 中華職業棒球大聯盟) to the majors, making his debut with the Detroit Tigers in 2009. He spent the most recent season on the Tigers' AAA-affiliate Toledo Mud Hens.

Then there's Wang Chien-ming 王建民, the most successful by far of all the Taiwanese who have played in MLB. Wang, of course, was a 19-game winner with the hated New York Yankees in both 2006 and 2007, and became the pride of Taiwan in the process. After being sidelined by injuries for a couple of years, Wang pitched himself back into the picture in 2011 with the Washington Nationals, finishing with a 4-3 record and 4.04 ERA. He should be part of the Nats' starting rotation in 2012.

MLB career stats for all the above Taiwanese players can be checked out at baseball-reference.com.

Here's hoping that Chen Wei-yin will be able to make the jump from Japan to North America...as long as it isn't with the Yankees.

When the chips are down

2011-12-24T00:05:00.000+08:00

Christmas is almost upon us, but you would have a hard time knowing so here in Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原. Sure, there are a few stores with some Xmas decorations up, and the occasional Yuletide jingle can be heard from a loudspeaker, but for the most part the scenery downtown is as usual. Now don't get me wrong - I don't expect this non-Western, non-Christian society to fully accept what is, after all, an alien holiday, and I'm not feeling any disappointment or sadness about this situation. Rather, I just know that somewhere out there in the blogosphere, there is a Westerner who has posted something about the bright decorations he/she can see in T'aipei (Táiběi) 台北, noting that the Taiwanese have embraced Christmas with a passion (I recall one overly enthusiastic blogger a few years ago who remarked that the people here were even more excited about the holiday than the folks back in his/her home country. This person was writing from T'aipei, of course). I had planned after work to walk into downtown Fengyuan and take a photo of how it was mostly business as usual in these parts, but due to the effects of the full-blown cold I've come down with, in the end I just sneaked a quick picture of this food vendor's sign before getting on my scooter and going home. Hiding among the characters for yibao 刈包 and rùnbǐng 潤餅 (photo) is the Japanese word わさび, wasabi.

Tis the season for goodwill to all men, or at least it seems so for Japan's Elpida Memory エルピーダメモリ , according to this Kyōdō News 共同通信社 article from today's Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ:

"Chipmaker Elpida Memory Inc. is thinking of forming a capital and business alliance with Taiwanese semiconductor maker Nanya Technology Corp., sources close to the matter said Thursday.

Elpida aims to take advantage of the tie-up to improve its business performance, which has deteriorated from the strong yen and falling prices for its mainstay dynamic random access memory chips, the sources said.

But it remains uncertain whether such an alliance will form because Elpida has sued Nanya in Taiwan and the United States for infringing on its DRAM patents.

Under the plan, Elpida will consider licensing Nanya to manufacture Elpida products, while focusing on cutting-edge products at its plant in Hiroshima Prefecture 広島県, the sources said."

Chips are big business in Taiwan, and Elpida is a major player here. It might seem kind of odd to be simultaneously suing and wooing a bitter rival/potential partner, but losing ¥56.76 billion ($726.6 million/NT22 billion) over a six-month period earlier this year might have something to do with this move. In any event, it appears that Nanya isn't very interested at this stage, at least according to the Taipei Times:

"Nanya Technology Corp (南亞科技), the nation’s biggest PC DRAM chipmaker, (Thursday) denied any knowledge of a plan to engage in technology and capital tie-up talks with Japan’s biggest memory chipmaker, Elpida Memory Inc, as has been reported in the media.

The T'aoyuän (Táoyuán) 桃園-based chipmaker’s comments came after the Nikkei Business Daily 日本経済新聞 reported yesterday that Elpida Memory was set to start talks next month with Nanya to form an alliance. Creating a holding company was one of approaches being studied, the Nikkei said.

The speculation came after most local DRAM chipmakers drifted into deep losses because of weak chip prices, which have plunged over 55 percent since May this year..."

Apparently there isn't much peace on earth when it comes to Japanese/Taiwanese chipmaking operations. Let the chips fall where they may!

Sticks and stones may brake my bones, but bricks are really heavy

2011-12-22T11:35:00.001+08:00

The onset of a cold combined with my usual gastrointestinal troubles have left me with some unexpected free time this morning. Seeing as I'm not in the best of moods right now, it seems like a good time as any to rant and rave, so here goes...

A rather disturbing letter was published in yesterday's edition of the Taipei Times newspaper. You can read it here, but to summarize things, a non-Taiwanese man was out for a walk one recent evening with his Taiwanese wife and bi-cultural children. Seeing a local man on a scooter with two kids, he stopped to upbraid the gentleman for the latter's failure to see to it that the children were wearing helmets. As anyone who has been here for a while can tell you, kids riding on scooters without any kind of protective head wear is a sadly all-too-common sight in Taiwan. The Taiwanese man didn't take kindly to a foreigner telling him off, and proceeded to call a couple of his friends, who soon showed up at the scene. One of his mates was armed with a brick, which he proceeded to use on the back of our hapless 外國人's head. Fortunately, no serious injury occurred , but an ugly incident will no doubt result in some unpleasant memories of life in Taiwan.

It's probably only a matter of time before the blogosphere is lit up with comments from local foreign residents pointing out that the letter writer was "arrogant" and somehow "had it coming". There is some truth to this, as I wonder as well why he felt he the need to remark to the Taiwanese man on what the latter should or should not have been doing. I wouldn't have said anything, and not because I would be afraid of getting a brick to the head. Basically, it's none of my business. Taiwanese adults are not naive innocents who have little clue as to the dangers of riding a scooter without a helmet (many adults do, in fact, wear helmets while their kids go without!). They know the perils, but have chosen to ignore them, and take the risk of a serious injury (or worse) happening to their offspring. It isn't my place to tell them otherwise, but if something nasty should occur, they won't be getting much sympathy or understanding from me (I'll feel sorry for the children, of course, but nothing for their parents). I don't allow my daughter to ride on scooters, except for short trips in the neighborhood with her mother, and then only if she's wearing her bicycle helmet. Had I been in the letter-writer's shoes, I would've just kept on walking without saying a word, and just hoped that nothing terrible would happen to the kids.

What will bother me about the inevitable remarks from my fellow non-Taiwanese residents will be the feeling that the foreigner in question will have somehow "deserved" what happened. For no matter how arrogant someone might be, or appear to come off as, there is no excusing a violent physical assault as the one described in the letter to the Taipei Times. Unfortunately, there are too many 外國人 here living in a different world than the one I'm familiar with. These souls inhabit an alternate Taiwanese universe where all the locals are warm, friendly and fuzzy, and every experience is worth treasuring and sharing with others via the various forms of social media available online. The fact that unpleasantness does occur even on the Beautiful Island is a threat to the Orientalist lifestyle they have worked so hard to establish, and any outbreaks of xenophobia, racism or just plain, good old fashioned thuggery has to be quickly contained and isolated. This is usually done by blaming the victim ("the obnoxious white guy"), and finding excuses...er, I mean reasons for why the local person acted the way they did. After all, one of the keys to being a contented foreign resident in Taiwan is the opportunity to explain the Local to the Outside (i.e. Western) World, though only within the narrow parameters that the happy foreigner has set up.

Now, I'll be the first to say that I have met a lot of great people here in Taiwan. But by the same token, I've also encountered a lot of boorish louts (and their equally repulsive offspring). I've had a number of unpleasant encounters over the years, many of which I admit were my fault, or which I certainly could've handled in a much better manner than I did. However, there have also been many cases where the only thing I did wrong was to have been born outside of Taiwan. Luckily, I've never encountered anything as serious as the experience of the letter-writer. I like to think this is due to the fact that I keep to myself most of the time, limiting my interaction with the natives to only those times when communication is required. I'm also taller than most people here, which no doubt intimidates some would-be troublemakers, especially when they are by themselves. And some of these folks probably can sense that I'm a tightly-wound individual who doesn't react well to stress, and therefore decide I'm not worth the trouble of fucking with. Certainly, if anyone came at me with a brick, an altogether different story would have appeared in the Taipei Times, and not in the Letters to the Editor section.

In any event, I don't harbor any fantasies about what a wonderful place Taiwan is, and how swell the people here are. Like anywhere else in the world, there are good and bad, and all kinds in between, and you have to deal with all of them (and they with you). The Old Tea types might revel in how wonderful their lives are here, but I'm all too aware of the undercurrent of violence that runs through Taiwanese society. As the letter-writer learned the hard way, when some Taiwanese are made to feel "humiliated" or "wronged" by someone else (a feeling made even worse if the other person is a foreigner), they will resort to violent means to restore their honor. Such folks are hardly the norm here, but at the same time they are far from rare anomalies, either. And as the letter makes it very clear, status in this society isn't earned by standing up for yourself, it comes from being able to get others to do it for you. The father of the helmet-less children didn't attack his criticizer himself; instead, he got a couple of buddies to do it for him. And it's not just hapless outsiders that are on the receiving end of this. In today's China Post, there's a story about a group of (admittedly drunken) civilians who attacked and injured 9 military personnel on Chinmen (Jīnmén) Island 金門. The reason? Apparently someone named Chang 張 had a dispute with an officer at a military base, and

"...instigated his friends to come to the base's front entrance which ultimately ended in assault..."

The moral of the story is...well, I don't know, actually. I'm sick, and just rattling off whatever pops into my head right now. I guess the point is to enjoy your stay in Taiwan, but be aware that it isn't all brightness and sunshine out there. Keep a low profile, and more importantly, keep your cool and mind your own business. If trouble does arise, do your best to extricate yourself and your family from the situation.

And, most important of all, watch your back.

Merry critters

2011-12-20T21:52:00.000+08:00

For some reason, there were lots of big, green grasshoppers to be seen along Trail 6 in the Tak'eng (Dàkēng) 大坑 area this afternoon. Perhaps the cooler temperatures are making them lethargic, because it was very easy to get up close to them. It must be a good time of year to be a bird. It definitely is a good time of year to hit the trails, as the afternoons are warm, the air is dry and the skies are sunny and relatively clear:

The Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ has an interesting article in its Tuesday edition on the experiences of an American who was at the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear power plant 福島第一原子力発電所 on March 11 when the earthquake and tsunami struck 東北地方太平洋沖地震 (3/11 memories haunt American at No. 1 plant). There's a local connection as the man is based in Taiwan, and is married to a Taiwanese woman.

Taiwan hikes, like Taiwan girls, are easy

2011-12-18T22:07:00.001+08:00

In 1993, Japan's Tōkyō Broadcasting System 東京放送ホールディングス aired a "documentary" on the "Yellow Cab" イエローキャブ phenomenon , with footage purporting to show Japanese girls in Hawaii doing drugs and sleeping with local Lotharios, as well as young women cruising bars in Roppongi 六本木 and Yokosuka 横須賀 on the prowl for American men. The camera followed one older woman going into a love hotel ラブホテル with her foreign pickup for the night, and there was even a scene that alleged to show an African-American man looking and acting like a pimp. It wasn't long after the program was shown on TBS, however, that it emerged that many of the events depicted on the show were staged. The so-called "pimp", for example, turned out to be a local gaijin 外人 actor who was under the impression that he was doing a scene for a TV drama. What was meant to be an exposé of the scandalous behavior of Japanese women turned out to be a scandal involving deceptive and misleading "investigative journalism."

I was reminded of the TBS affair this morning when I followed a link on Facebook that led me to this report on the sexual availability of Taiwanese women to Western men. You don't have to understand Chinese to be able to follow what the program is talking about. 15 seconds into the clip it becomes clear the report is going to focus on "easy" Taiwanese girls:

As one of the comments on Facebook put it, "It's bullshit news from a bullshit news source". Unfortunately, it's the kind of story that goes over well in this country, playing up to the stereotypes of the oversexed foreign male preying on the virtuous local female, and corrupting her pure Confucian morals in the process. It's no wonder that the average Taiwanese is, to put it bluntly, a dumb-ass when it comes to perceptions of the outside world and the people that inhabit it. Of course, mention is rarely made of the countless numbers of brothels masquerading as KTV's and "barbershops" dotted all over this island, where sex is readily available at reasonable prices.

OK, perhaps I'm being a little too harsh. After all, I come from the country that considers the likes of Michele Bachmann and Herman Cain as serious presidential candidates, and where far too many people have their views of the world shaped by Fox News. So, on a gloriously warm late fall afternoon such as the one today, it's better to stop thinking about stereotypes and instead focus on the great outdoors, which is what I and my daughter did this Sunday.

If you're looking for an easy walk in central Taiwan, you can't go wrong with the T'ient'i (tiāntī) Hiking Trail 天梯健康步道 in Tungshih (Dōngshì) 東勢, a 2.6 kilometer (1.6 miles) mountain path of wooden stairs and stone lanes that winds it way through orchards of bananas and persimmons. Though Amber complained at times of feeling tired, she managed to complete the walk without any discernible loss of energy. The bamboo walking stick no doubt helped:

There were some good views to be had of Tungshih below:

There was also some nice scenery on the other side of the mountain:

In addition to the fruit orchards, groves of betel trees dotted the mountainside:

Amber crossed that bridge when she came to it:

The trail begins and ends at the T'ienkung (Tiāngōng) Temple 天公廟:

There was nothing wrong with the camera when I took this photo. The small room to the right of the main hall of the temple was filled with incense smoke.

For directions on how to get to the trail, read this Compass Magazine article. Here's a video showing the walk that Amber and I did today.

All's Quiet on the Eastern Front

2011-12-15T22:51:00.000+08:00

As you may (or, more likely, may have not) noticed, things have been a little quiet in Kaminoge's small corner of cyberspace. Partly that's because not a whole lot has been happening lately - mostly the usual stuff, such as work, broken up with the occasional hike and time spent with my daughter. We've also been devoting our efforts to getting ready for Christmas, as in setting up the (artificial) Xmas tree, and buying and wrapping presents. But mainly it's because, instead of publishing new posts, I've been concentrating on the old ones. For you see (and you should, because you're reading this on Blogger), I've thrown in the towel on Sponge Bear. It's been a good run, and not to toot my own horn (but I will anyway), I did win a couple of awards ("You like me, you really like me!"), but the hassles of dealing with LiveJournal have become too much to bear. If it isn't the constant string of technical problems, it's the deluge of spam, much of it in Cyrillic, that floods my humble little blog on an almost daily basis.

So instead of focusing on what's new, I've been devoting much of my computer time to bringing this blog up to snuff. After a great deal of effort, and with thanks to Michael Turton and, especially, my old friend and coworker from my Tōkyō days (懐かしい) S.T., I was finally able to import my old blog postings from Sponge Bear to A Curmudgeon Abroad. I wasn't able to carry the comments and videos over, unfortunately, but the entries are intact, along with most of the photographs. Now I'm going through all of them, one by one, cleaning up the text and deleting things that are no longer relevant (or have gone missing over time). It's slow going, but my goal is to do one months' worth each evening, and I'm now up to September 2007. It's an exercise that's both fascinating and depressing - on the one hand, it's been fun going over the old photos, and watching Amber growing up in those posts. But at the same time, it's hitting home how much of a rut I've been stuck in for the past several years, and of how I always seem to be whingeing about the same old things. Do I really sound like a broken record? (Don't answer that, and you young 'uns out there please don't ask me what a record is.)

At the risk of exemplifying what's written above, here's a sign I came across this evening in T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中:

The owner of this massage establishment (I hesitate to say "parlor", because this place seemed aboveboard) has gone for the trilingual approach, with the sign presenting the menu in three languages - Mandarin (not visible, but off to the left), English and Japanese. What's more than a little odd is the choice of hiragana 平仮名 for rendering the Japanese words. Why write ぜんしん when 全身 would be understood by any potential Japanese customers? Why use まっさーじ when a.) it should be written in katakana 片仮名 (i.e. マッサージ); and b.) you've neglected to include the part about feet (足 aka あし)? Then there's the use of えん, as in "yen" or ¥. Is the owner hinting that, while I need to pay NT700 (about $23) for a body massage, a Japanese visitor only has to fork over ¥700 ($9 or NT270)? A clear case of discrimination...unless the writer of the sign didn't know that 元 is pronounced as gen げん in Japanese. And, finally, just what the hell is a "Gua-sha" or かっさ? Now I wish I had included the Mandarin when I was framing the photograph.

Kaminoge - still as anally retentive as ever over things no one else would ever care about.

Signs

2011-12-10T20:14:00.001+08:00

On T'ienchin Road (Tiānjīn lù) 天津路 in T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中, a street lined on both sides with clothing wholesalers:

Dharma

Just say の

One block over is Peip'ing Road (Běipíng lù) 北平路. The first place I lived after moving to Taiwan was in an apartment building located on a side street of this road:

Curr?

Continuing the Dharma theme

Moving Pictures

2011-12-04T21:06:00.001+08:00

Taiwan, Ilha Formosa, "The Beautiful Island" - a strong case can be made for here being the undiscovered gem of Northeast Asia. Most travelers to this region overlook Taiwan on their way to China, Hong Kong, Japan and South Korea. However, it looks like things are starting to look up for the "renegade province" - Lonely Planet, for one, has listed Taiwan as one of the top ten countries for travel in 2012.

Nevertheless, there is one thing that Taiwan can't change - the fact that it's an island, and not necessarily a large one at that. What this means is that there are a finite number of things to see and do, and places to visit, before ennui sets in. Before you start pitying the jaded foreign resident, however, spare a thought for the locals, who went through all the major possibilities long ago (in many cases, more than once), and have truly "been there and done that". What this means is that when something genuinely new appears on the leisure front, everyone, plus their grandmother and the family dog, has to go and see it. And seeing as most folks are working 5 days a week plus a couple of Saturdays per month, this leaves just one day - Sunday - to get out and do something different. Which is a long-winded way of saying that we were part of the crowd this afternoon at the "River of Wisdom: Moving of the Riverside Scene at Chingming Festival" (yes, that is the official English title; link) exhibition 智慧的長河: 會動的清明上河圖, located in what looked like a warehouse near the T'aichung High Speed Rail Station 高鐵台中站 in Wujih (Wūrì) 烏日.

Like everyone else, we decided it would be best to get there in the morning, you know, in order to "beat the crowds". Which meant that we ended up waiting for about 90 minutes in a long line that snaked its way from the parking lot to the other side of the building housing the exhibition. Fortunately for me (though not for many of the locals) it was sunny and warm today, and I came prepared to kill some time:

Eventually we made it inside (for a Taiwanese queue, things were relatively well-organized). At this point you may be asking yourself "What is the River of Wisdom?". A fair question, but one to which I'm still not sure of the answer. From what I could work out, several hand-painted scrolls, the original dating from the Song Dynasty 宋朝 in China, and a couple of updated versions from the Ming 明朝 and Qing Dynasties 清朝, illustrating daily scenes from Chinese life from long ago, have been brought together in one place. The scrolls were very interesting to see, if you could make out the images through the mass of humanity trying to get a close-up view. Large projections on the walls overhead helped somewhat, but it's times like these that I'm truly thankful for being 6'3" (189.5cm). Here is the official English explanation:

Now that you fully comprehend what was going on, here are a few images I was able to capture:

As fascinating as the images on the scrolls, they were not the main reason why everyone came today. The crowd-puller was in another room: a long diorama that reproduced the scenes from the scroll with moving images of people and animals that strove to bring to life just what things were like in the China of yore. Here is my attempt at capturing the scene (and the crowds):

Fortunately, there are better-quality clips to be found on YouTube:

Eventually we made our way out of the exhibition room, and filled our famished stomachs on thoroughly unhealthy but extremely satisfying fried food stand grub. "The River of Wisdom" was fascinating to see, but was it worth the time and crowds? Unless you're a true Sinophile, I'd have to say no. Although the crowd was pretty well-behaved by Taiwanese standards, it was still hard to appreciate the spectacle, not to mention all the small details, over the loud din, while trying not to bump into, or get bumped by, other visitors. The light show created by all the digital cameras and cell phones was also a distraction, though I have to admit I was as guilty as everyone else in this regard. Perhaps if "The River of Wisdom" were a permanent fixture, and not a temporary exhibition, there would the space to walk slowly along the long diorama and really take in what all the figures on the screen are doing. But here in the cultural wasteland of central Taiwan, you have to take advantage of the few opportunities that come your way, even if it means having to plunge headfirst into a sea of humanity.

Having gained wisdom, we strolled over to the HSR Station, where Amber was excited to see a couple of trains pull out, as well as to have the chance to run around on the lawn outside:

My wife, being a true Taiwanese, then suggested we go back to Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原 in order to do some shopping at the T'aip'ingyang Department Store 太平洋百貨公司 there - apparently, her daily horde quota hadn't been satisfied at "The River of Wisdom" exhibition. After making a few purchases, she suggested having dinner in Miaotung 廟東夜市, a "food street" that is Fengyuan's only claim to fame in Taiwan:

Which just goes to show that in Taiwan, you can never have enough elbows to rub while you're out and about. And as if to prove the point, on the way home, we passed by, you guessed it, another throng of people, this time listening to a campaign speech by a candidate for the Legislative Yuän 立法院, whose image on a video screen I was able to grab as we drove by:

The candidate, Jacky Chen 陳清龍, is running as an independent, but he has received the backing of the People First Party 親民黨. This explains why I was able to get a glimpse of the leader of the PFP (and candidate for president in the Jan. 14 elections), James Soong 宋楚瑜, standing on the stage as our car passed by.

Portrait of a Saturday done in Amber

2011-12-03T22:00:00.001+08:00

So it's a Saturday, there's no school today and you're five soon-to-be-six years old. How do you spend the day? Well, if you're my daughter Amber, you start by watching a Wiggles DVD over breakfast, then play some of the games on the Nick Jr. website while your dad does some housework. Soon there's a long-distance telephone call from the USA - it's your Nanny and Granddad, calling to say "hello". You're looking forward to seeing them in Washington next month! Following your conversation with your grandparents, you play a few more games, whereupon it's then time for lunch with your parents. After Mom goes back to work, it's time to roll up your sleeves and get down to some work yourself, for Christmas is coming soon! Now that Thanksgiving has passed (even though it isn't observed here in Taiwan, you were still able to eat a turkey dinner on that day at a place your father refers to as an "expat cafe" in Taichung), the work of setting up the tree must now be tackled, but you're up for it. You quickly unpack the plastic tree from its box in the storage room, and after Dad sets it up, you set to work hanging up the decorations:

It isn't long before you're finished, but it soon become apparent the artificial tree is looking a tad barren. So off you go with your dad to the local Carrefour hypermarket, but not before making a detour to a nearby park first. A girl needs her exercise after all, and if you want to have those training wheels removed someday, you'll need more practice on how to ride a bicycle, which you do this afternoon, making a circuit of the park. Despite the colder temperatures, the day was sunny, so you brought along one of your teddy bear friends for the ride on your Hello Kitty ハローキティ bike:

Having stretched your legs, it's off in the car to Carrefour. You and Dad spend a lot of time there, for in addition to more ornaments, there are several other things that need to be bought, such as bananas, cereal and milk, all of which you keep track of by putting a check next to the items on the shopping list you and your father made up beforehand. You also take a look at the toys - with Christmas looming over the horizon, it's time to let Santa know what you would like him to bring you on the night of the 24th/25th:

After everything has been paid for, you push the shopping cart back to the where the car is parked, but not before playing a quick game of Whac-A-Mole first. Back outside, it's now dark, and you reach home just minutes before Mom gets back from work. Without further ado, you take the new ornaments out of their packages, and commence hanging them up in the tree:

Mission accomplished, and a job well done! The day is concluded with dinner at a neighborhood restaurant, where you help yourself to Mom's hot pot 火鍋 and Dad's steak dinners. Back at home, you have time to watch some Pink Panther clips on YouTube before you take a bath, and then it's off to bed, warm and cozy under your Ampamman アンパンマン comforter, surrounded by all your stuffed animals.

Life is wonderful when you're five-going-on-six years old. Sweet dreams 波ちゃん.

Monkey Business in Wufeng

2011-11-29T21:27:00.001+08:00

Just over a month ago, I checked out some of the walking trails in the Wufeng Ch'ingt'ung Lin Hiking Trail (Wùfēng qīngtóng lín bùdào) 霧峰青桐林步道 area, located in Wufeng (Wùfēng) 霧峰, naturally. At that time the Terminator in me said that I would be back, and it was right, for this afternoon I paid a return visit to the area. This time I started out on a trail that looked easy at first, being a paved walkway that gently wound its way uphill. From time to time there were breaks in the tree cover that provided some views of the nearby mountains:

At one point, a spur trail broke off to right. I followed this up through the forest expecting to find a panoramic view from the top, but all that greeted me was a small stone marker engraved with the characters 三等三角點, denoting some kind of triangulation point, and a cluster of ribbons strung up by various hiking clubs:

It was after returning to the main trail that things became interesting. First, the path itself started narrowing while becoming progressively rougher, until I found myself following what seemed like a dry stream bed. There were plenty of ribbons along the way denoting the path to enlightenment, but it was obvious it had been a few days since the last hiker had come along, for I was constantly having to break up spider webs that had been strung across the trail. At one point I surprised a group of pheasants, which quickly run uphill to find safety, but the best animal encounter was soon to come: a troop of Formosan Macaques 台灣獼猴, which was busy foraging for food in the trees. The monkeys were wary, but made no attempt to run away. I spent a long time listening to them, for they were well-hidden in and among the branches, with only the occasional glimpse coming when they moved from one spot to another. Which makes for a pretty good excuse for my not getting any decent photos, and only these poor-quality videos:

After communing with the macaques, I continued along the trail, which reached a point that required the use of ropes to haul myself up:

At the top of this section, the trail joined up with the main route, which had I walked on my previous visit. However, off to my left I noticed the outlines of another path which was in somewhat rougher condition, and which seemed to run parallel to the regular trail. I opted for the "hidden" route, which turned out to be a section of trail that had been damaged by heavy rain in one section, which probably explained why when I reached the end and joined up with the main route, I had to cross over yellow crime-scene tape meant to keep hikers out!

Covered in sweat and cobwebs, I returned to my parked scooter. Although I hadn't done much actual climbing on this day, I thoroughly enjoyed "roughing it" this afternoon, although I owe a number of spiders a lot of apologies for what I had done to their nests. The signboard by my scooter showed the routes I took this afternoon:

The red box indicating "You are here" (obvious even if you don't Chinese) was where I parked the bike. The red line is the route I started out on, with the short spur trail colored in yellow. The broken parts of the red line are where the route got rough (and where I saw the monkeys), while the first blue line (the one on the left) indicates the now-closed trail that I took to get back.

And, no, I didn't run into any giant rabbits while I was out there.

Straightened Priorities

2011-11-27T22:00:00.001+08:00

The sun sets over a local park

It hasn't been an easy past couple of days. In addition to the usual stresses and difficulties sleeping, I took another Mandarin test on Friday evening, and failed it...again. For the third time. Three strikes and you're out, so I'm going to warm the bench from now on, language-wise. The thing is, by not being able to express clearly what I'd like to say in Mandarin (this time regarding the upcoming presidential election), the once-promising job opportunity in the U.S. that had come my way is now starting to recede further and further into the distance. Irony can be heartless - apparently, I'm never going to be able to get out of Taiwan because my Mandarin skills aren't good enough.

Then there was the simultaneous discovery that thanks to an oversight on my part, and the fact that my spouse is unable to grasp the importance of certain things, we are on the verge of having an application that had been approved pulled out from under us like the proverbial rug. So a great deal of time this past weekend has been spent on hurriedly putting everything together in the hope that a greater power will take pity on us. We'll just have to wait and see what transpires next week.

So it's in times like these that I turn toward my daughter to learn all over again that there are many more important things in life, like joining your father's students last Tuesday on a field trip to the Hsuëh-Pa National Park 雪霸國家公園...

...where you can make your own chocolate...

...and then run around outside looking for grasshoppers.

Or how on Thanksgiving Day, even though you're not in the United States, you can still enjoy a turkey dinner at an outdoor cafe run by an American expat on a cool, though not cold, evening:

And, finally, how there's often nothing better than going to the nearest park and running around until it gets too dark:

Priorities. Kids have got them in order.

Fearing Not

2011-11-21T23:44:00.001+08:00

I know of certain bloggers here in Taiwan who might like to eat and drink at this establishment ;-)

From yesterday's (Sunday's) edition of the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ comes this Kyōdō News 共同通信社 news story:

TAIWAN PLANE BRINGS TOURISTS BACK TO FUKUSHIMA
http://www.japantimes.co.jp/text/nn20111120a3.html

A TransAsia Airways 復興航空 chartered flight with 180 tourists on board landed at Fukushima Airport 福島空港 Saturday morning, the first international flight to arrive since March 11, giving the region's badly-hit tourism industry a much needed lift.

The tourists are participating in a four-day tour organized by several travel agencies in Taiwan, and will visit sites mainly around the prefecture's scenic Aizu 会津 region.

The airport's regular services to Seoul and Shanghai remain suspended because of radioactive fallout from the Fukushima No. 1 nuclear plant 福島第一原子力発電所.

To reverse the plunging number of foreign visitors to Fukushima 福島県, the prefecture has been running promotional campaigns in Taiwan, as well as in China and South Korea.

The chartered plane will carry Japanese tourists to Taiwan on its return flight.

Operations at the airport, about 50 km (30 miles) inland from the prefecture's coast, were not affected by the March 11 earthquake and tsunami 東日本大震災.

Taiwan's airlines have started operating chartered flights to Fukushima Prefecture in recent years.

It certainly is encouraging to see the Tōhoku region 東北地方 slowly getting back on its feet. It will take time, but eventually all the debris will be carted off, transportation links will be resumed (though some damaged train lines may be converted into exclusive bus lanes - see this Yomiuri Shimbun 読売新聞 article from today's Daily Yomiuri ザ・デイリー読売 and, yes, the damaged nuclear reactors will be achieve cold shutdown. Visitors are gradually making their way back to the area, though for the residents who suffered through that terrible day and its aftermath, the emotional scars may never heal. Before March 11, I had been thinking about visiting Tōhoku at some point in 2012, and despite all that has happened, I see no reason for changing my plans. Sightseeing spots such as Hiraizumi 平泉 and the Tōno 遠野 Valley appear to have emerged relatively unscathed from the disaster, while I'm confident that Sendai 仙台, the region's hub, will quickly recover much as Kōbe 神戸 did in the aftermath of the Great Hanshin earthquake 阪神・淡路大震災. The one alteration to my plans would probably have to be Kinkazan 金華山. I haven't heard anything about the state of the island itself, but I do know that the city of Ishinomaki 石巻 and the town of Ayukawa 鮎川, the two main transportation points to Kinkazan, were devastated by the tsunami.

A new store in Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原 selling old clothing for old women.

Being a good sport

2011-11-20T21:02:00.001+08:00

Many foreign residents in Japan, especially those who have started families, are familiar with undōkai 運動会, those school sporting competitions that sometimes see the parents get roped into the various activities. It turns out this phenomenon is thriving in Taiwan as well. My daughter's kindergarten held its first Sports Day beginning this morning at the ungodly-for-Sunday starting time of 8:50. Despite some initial misgivings on my part - being the only Western parent in attendance, not to mention being older than most of the other dads - it turned out to be pretty fun. Amber definitely had a good time - all that exertion from this morning knocked her out earlier than usual this evening.

Amber with one of her classmates and friends, "Carol". All of the kids in my daughter's class have English names, but Amber's is the only one that has any legal standing.

This being East Asia, there were lots of lining ups, wearing of uniforms and chants in unison, all propelled by the use of personal amplification systems.

Among the events in which mother and daughter paired up was this "grass curling" race involving Nerf balls.

Dad didn't shirk his athletic responsibilities, either.

Pamela and Amber after the main event, a four-person relay race. Due to the condition of my knees, my running days are long behind me, so my wife had to take up the baton (literally).

The elementary school where the sports day event was held still has a couple of statues of a certain dead dictator on its grounds, unfortunately.

In the afternoon, following a change of clothing at home, the three of us headed into T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中, where we spent the afternoon inside the local branch of the Mitsukoshi Department Store 新光三越.

What did I learn from walking around the floors of Mitsukoshi? Well, I found out that Tōkyū Hands 東急ハンズ, a well-known Japanese department store that specializes in hardware and do-it-yourself materials, is called "Hands T'ailung" 台隆手創館 here in Taiwan.

The 10th floor of Mitsukoshi was the site of a special promotion featuring Taiwanese snack foods. I walked away with a box of traditional sweets, a parting gift for my long-suffering Mandarin teacher.

Amber poses with a leaf on one of Taiwan's numerous and little-used pedestrian bridges. Many locals, it seems, would rather take their chances crossing a busy road (like T'aichung's Chungkang Road 中港路) at street-level instead of actually having to climb, *gasp*, stairs.

The Orientalist in me just has to post this photo of a roadside duck meat stand in Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原.

Autumn Almanac

2011-11-15T23:48:00.001+08:00

Fall is here in Taiwan, all two weeks' of it (according to one well-known local blogger), and the weather has been very nice (with the exception of a few days' worth of rain). Today was especially pleasant, and I made good use of the sunshine by going for a walk in the area around the Kuanyin (Guānyīn) 觀音 temple atop the hill behind the Central Taiwan University of Science and Technology 中台科技大學. The walk up to the temple is a short and easy one, but fortunately there is a network of trails in the area behind the temple, and I was able to make a two-hour loop around the hills.

The two little kissing duck figurines were complemented by recorded quacks being played on a continuous loop. Tres Buddhist, non?

Whatever the structure in the photo is, its position atop a small hillock made it look like an island fortress

This lizard was quite literally hanging around

One thing I sometimes wonder while stomping around in the hills and mountains of central Taiwan is what would I do in the event a large earthquake suddenly struck the area (probably scream like a baby). According to this AFP article from Japan Today, I'll now a few seconds warning before the trails collapse from under my feet:

Taiwan deploys NEC-made undersea quake warning system

"Taiwan said Monday it had put into service its first undersea seismic observation system, giving the island life-saving extra seconds or even minutes to brace for earthquakes and tsunamis.

The NT420-million ($14 million/¥1.07 billion) system, built by NEC Corp 日本電気株式会社, consists of equipment ranging from ocean-bottom seismographs to tsunami pressure gauges and even underwater microphones.

'The system gives a much clearer picture of what’s happening. We can even hear the sounds of dolphins swimming by,' Kuo Kai-wen, director of the Seismology Center 地震測報中心, told AFP.

'With the help of this system, we’ll be able to attain an average of 10 seconds’ extra warning if earthquakes hit off the east coast, and an extra 10 minutes to issue tsunami warnings,” he said.

Taiwan is regularly hit by earthquakes, as it lies near the junction of two tectonic plates. In September 1999, a 7.6-magnitude tremor killed around 2,400 people in the deadliest natural disaster in the island’s recent history.

The new alert system is centered around a submarine cable beginning at the township of T'ouch'eng (Tóuchéng) 頭城 in the northeast of Taiwan and stretching for 45 kilometers (28 miles) into the ocean in a roughly easterly direction.

Nearly 70% of the earthquakes that strike Taiwan hit this area, according to the seismology center.

The system is deployed at a depth of around 300 meters (980 feet), sending real-time digital information to land via submarine optical fiber cable 24 hours a day, NEC said in a statement.

Taiwan began considering an undersea alert system after the Indian Ocean tsunami in late 2004 killed almost a quarter of a million people.

Another undersea earthquake, as powerful as that which caused the 2004 disaster, triggered a tsunami that struck Japan in March, leaving about 22,000 dead or missing.

'The power of the two quakes was pretty much the same, but the much lower toll figure in Japan shows that early warning systems are very effective in the battle against unexpected natural disasters,' Kuo said.

Now the workers at those three nuclear power plants on Taiwan's northeast coast (two in operation, the other nearing completion) will have a few more minutes to run for their lives before a massive tsunami 津波 swamps the facilities, already badly damaged from the earlier earthquake, leading to catastrophic meltdowns and the irradiation of the entire island. Time to head to the local いざかや (izakaya, or Japanese-style pub) for a round or two before it all comes to an end, On the Beach-style.

Under the radar

2011-11-13T21:12:00.001+08:00

Lunch at a Korean-style restaurant in Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原. The bibimbap (lower left) 비빔밥 (石鍋拌飯) was very spicy, but also really good.

Everybody and their grandmother in Taiwan knows of Wang Chien-Ming 王建民. His recent appearance playing for the national team against a group of players from the major leagues generated a good deal of publicity. Wang made a successful comeback this past season after having spent a couple of years on the disabled list, and many Taiwanese are looking forward to him returning to his past form (and past glories) in 2012 with the Washington Nationals. However, while Wang is considered the "Pride of Taiwan", only the more serious baseball fans here are aware of another Taiwanese player who has considerably more success than Wang in recent years. The person I'm referring to is Chen Wei-Yin 陳偉殷, of the Chūnichi Dragons 中日ドラゴンズ of the Central League セントラル・リーグ in Japan's Nippon Professional Baseball 日本野球機構『プロ野球』. Chen has been a dominant pitcher with the Dragons since 2008, and though his record this year was only 8-10, his ERA was an excellent 2.68. Chūnichi won the CL pennant in 2011, and is facing the Pacific League パシフィック・リーグ champion Fukuoka SoftBank Hawks 福岡ソフトバンクホークス in the Japan Series 日本選手権シリーズ. Chen was given the honor of starting the first game yesterday for the Dragons, and the Daily Yomiuri ザ・デイリー読売 had this to say about his performance:

Deep impact / Chen goes 8 solid innings as Dragons win opener on solo homers

"Chunichi starter Chen Wei-yin チェン・ウェイン went deep into the game, while Kazuhiro Wada 和田一浩 and Masaaki Koike 小池正晃 went deep over the wall, lifting the Dragons to victory in Saturday's Japan Series opener in Fukuoka 福岡.

Koike homered with two outs in the top of the 10th inning, lifting the Central League champions to a 2-1 victory over the Fukuoka SoftBank Hawks in Game 1...

Chen, who allowed a run in eight innings, was holding the short end of the stick until Wada homered to tie it in the top of the seventh against Hawks lefty Tsuyoshi Wada 和田毅. It was the Dragons' first hit of the game.

'We didn't even have one hit. As many times as I've seen [Wada], I wonder if I've ever seen him throw his fastball harder,' said Kazuhiro Wada, who battled the Hawks lefty for years in the PL.

'But in that inning, I felt he was tiring and I hit a fat pitch. It's a big park, so I didn't think it would get out. It's a good thing it did.

'Chen did such a great job under pressure, holding them to a run. The guys knew we had to get him a run somehow.'

The homer was Wada's sixth in Japan Series play, while Chen's 11 strikeouts were the most in a Series game by a Dragon since 1954, when Shigeru Sugishita 杉下茂 struck out 12 in Game 1...

Hawks cleanup hitter Nobuhiro Matsuda 松田宣浩 and Yūya Hasegawa 長谷川勇也 cracked open a scoreless pitching duel in the bottom of the fourth inning off Chen, who allowed four hits and two walks.

Matsuda singled with one out and stole second. With one out and runners on first and second, Hasegawa lined a pitch to center to easily score Matsuda."

Thanks in large part to Chen's efforts, the Dragons are off to a good start in the series. I'm pulling for Chūnichi to go all the way this year, in large part because they are my favorite Japanese baseball team. When I first traveled to Japan back in 1989, I immediately identified with the Dragons as they were wearing uniforms virtually identical to those of the Los Angeles Dodgers, one of my two favorite teams from childhood (the other being the then-California Angels). The team changed its uniform style later on, but I moved closer to Chūnichi in later years - literally. Studying Japanese at a school in Okazaki 岡崎 in Aichi Prefecture 愛知県, and then later managing a small English school in Yokkaichi 四日市 in Mie Prefecture 三重県 meant that I was close enough to the Dragons' home city of Nagoya 名古屋 to see a couple of games at their home stadium, Nagoya Dome ナゴヤドーム.

And then there is Hiromitsu Ochiai 落合博満, the current manager of the Dragons. He was my favorite player back when he was still active, not only due to his considerable talent, but also because of his individualistic approach to the game, as Robert Whiting illustrated in his classic book comparing American and Japanese cultures through the shared medium of baseball, You Gotta Have Wa. When his playing days ended, Ochiai was hired to manage Chūnichi, and has been just as successful in his new role as field manager, guiding the team to five pennants (including this year) and a Japan Series championship in 2007 (the Dragons' first since 1954). For reasons that are still not entirely clear, a couple of months ago Chūnichi's ownership announced that Ochiai was going to step down at the end of the season. It would be great to see one of the legends of Japanese baseball go out in style.

オレ流

http://noboruaota.blogspot.com/

That's what Edward said

2011-11-12T22:27:00.001+08:00

In this age of globalization, Japanese tourists apparently will fly to Taiwan in order to have Thai-style massages. Or is just the misspelling of "Tai" that is confusing them?

Life isn’t easy on the mean streets of T'aipei (Táiběi) 台北. Fortunately, having both talked to a lot of expatriates in Taiwan and read a number of Taiwan-centered blogs over the years, I have been able to glean several easy steps that can be taken to help you cope with your difficult living environment:

First of all, forget the fact that in T’aipei all you have to do is ride the subway for a few minutes (a convenience unavailable elsewhere in Taiwan, with the possible exception of Kaohsiung [Gāoxióng] 高雄) before finding yourself in a world teeming with upscale department stores, ritzy boutiques, fusion restaurants, cafés serving imported beers, hopping nightclubs and specialist stores stocking many of the familiar comforts of home. Focus instead on your immediate environment and on the need to integrate into your new surroundings…or at least as much as any foreign barbarian can in these circumstances. This can be done by making an attempt to learn the local lingo and trying some of the more “exotic” dishes (don’t eat anything familiar, even if your neighbors seem to enjoy do so.) Later, when talking to fellow expats, you will be able to toss in local words and phrases into your conversation, and identify things like food items only by their local name, without any accompanying definitions. This will force your foreign friends and acquaintances to ask for clarifications and explanations, thus giving you “street cred”.

Second, try not to think of the people around you as flesh-and-blood human beings who share many of the same likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams, and fears and worries as you. Instead, always remember that they are stock characters, Exotic Others in your Asian (Taiwanese) Experience. This will help to enhance the excitement of your life abroad, and impress the folks and friends back home who will marvel at your descriptions of life in T’aipei/Taiwan, and marvel at photographs such as this one:

Once you have located your local comfort zone, be sure to stress how much better life in T’aipei/Taiwan is compared to your country of birth and/or nationality. This can be done by deliberately overlooking the more unpleasant or seamier sides of life in Taiwan, and ignoring the fact that on such a compact island everything will be much closer than in vast, continent-wide states such as Australia, Canada or the United States. All that personal space and freedom in the latter countries are vastly overrated anyway.

Now you are ready to assume your role as an interpreter of all things Taiwanese to the outside world. This can be done in conversation, blog entries and postings on Internet forums. Remember while explaining Taiwan to those on the outside to always stress the differences, not the similarities, and of how much you understand and have adapted to these cultural shocks. Be careful of boasting, but do try to pepper your conversation with local words, and try to bring up as often as you can the exotic dishes you enjoy eating (and, if necessary, force yourself to drink Taiwan Beer on a regular basis), as well as the “incredibly beautiful” places you have visited. Make a habit of watching local soap operas and listening to the latest pop hits by artists that no one outside of Greater China has ever heard of. Be sure to get your news fix from TVBS, not CNN or BBC. Always keep your focus on the “unique” aspects of Taiwan, and don’t concern yourself with context. Most importantly, never forget that every experience with a local, especially when conducted in the local language, is an experience worth not only treasuring, but sharing with others.

Finally, always keep in mind that you are the sole interpreter of Taiwan. It’s a heavy responsibility – there are plenty of people in the West who rely on you to define Taiwan for them. Do not try to accommodate differing opinions and/or observations, even though they may be the result of another individual’s experience that could be very different from your own. Explaining the Exotic Other of Taiwan is a zero/sum game, and you need to be adamant when standing your ground. Giving even an inch could mean ceding your turf to another barbarian observer.

Oh, and should you ever come across a book called Orientalism, don’t pick it up and start reading. It’s heavy-going and humorless, and, besides, you might not like what is written inside.

Now you're ready - go forth and pontificate!

A colorful native tries to work out the meaning of しょくえいぼう (shokueibō)...or not.

X-nay

2011-11-08T22:50:00.000+08:00

It all started innocently enough, as these things usually do. A few days ago, on a popular forum where people can post Taiwan travel-related questions, and have those question answered by fellow netizens, someone asked about what they should do given a 26-hour layover in T'aipei (Táiběi) 台北. One respondent, whom we shall call “G”, replied that the OP (original poster) should visit the popular sites such as the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial 中正紀念堂, Lungshan Temple 龍山寺, Taipei 101 台北一零一, the Shihlin Night Market 士林夜市 and, wait for it, the National Palace Museum 國立故宮博物院 (more on that later). All perfectly reasonable suggestions, IMHO.

G’s response was soon answered by someone whom we will refer to as “X”, for I don’t want to be accused of taking “cheap shots” again. X replied that:

I would skip the National Palace Museum with just one day - it is worth seeing but not worth wasting your one day in Taipei on...I personally would rather see the actual city than see some artifacts that came from China, which isn't even Taiwan!

All bolded words that you will see here are X’s own. G, in turn, answered by writing:

I think the NPM should be on the list for any one-time visitor to Taiwan. It is one of the best and most famous museums in the world, so it's worth the trip for simply having been there. That said, the experience has been diminished somewhat by the hoards of mainland Chinese tourists that now crowd the place with their loudness, pushing and shoving, and body odor that is uncharacteristic of the local Taiwanese population. (The Taiwanese have an indoor voice and are generally more polite and deferential in their mannerisms.) If limited to one-day in Taipei, I would skip the temporary galleries on the first floor and try to limit the visit to 2 hours, but I wholly disagree that it should be skipped entirely.

X then answered back by saying:

I'm going to still respectfully disagree. The NPM is great, I'm not disputing that, I just personally prefer to spend more time in an actual city if I have limited time rather than going to a museum, especially one full of artifacts that aren't even from the country you are visiting.

It was at this point that yours truly decided to add his NT2 worth by opining:

So if you visit London, you should pass on the British Museum, especially because it's full of artifacts that aren't from the UK?

If the OP has an interest in Chinese art, the NPM is worth even a short visit. Otherwise, the limited time would be better spent taking in the other well-known spots (e.g. CKS Memorial Hall, Longshan Temple, Shilin Night Market etc.).

OK, I admit I’m a smart ass, and it doesn’t take much to get me started. I can understand skipping the National Palace Museum if one’s time was very limited, or they had little interest in the subject of traditional Chinese art, but I found the (il)logic of omitting the NPM from an itinerary because it wasn’t “Taiwanese” too good to pass up. In any event, I thought I had kind of neatly summed up the situation for the person who posted the original query, and figured that was that.

Not quite.

X, it seems, doesn’t appreciate sarcasm:

No...if I visit London once, for one day, I will bypass the British Museum (and the Victoria and Albert). If I had one day, I'd choose to see London itself, not a museum full of stuff.

It so happens that I've been to London three times, and one of those visits was a week long (the other ones were short stays). In that week I did go to three museums, because my time there made it possible.

But no, not with just one day. Cities themselves are much more interesting than museums in my opinion - they're full of life, activity, people, good food, and if you want to see something historic there are always historic sites.

If the OP has 24 hours in Taipei, going to the NPM effectively ensures that he won't see much of Taipei at all.

Fair enough, but I just couldn’t let the chance for another snarky analogy go just yet:

Darn, I guess I'll just have to give the Louvre a miss on that 24-hour layover I'll have in Paris. :-)

See, I even inserted a smiley face, to serve as a reminder that this really isn’t that big of a deal. Looks like I was wrong:

yeah...I would do that, too.

In fact, I had two days in Paris and I did skip the Louvre, and I'd advise anyone else to do the same.

…And the NPM isn't even Taiwanese...

I guess some people just aren't into museums. I don’t know about you, but should I ever find myself with a limited amount of time in Paris, I would do my best to squeeze in a visit to the Louvre, even it is filled with works of art by Italians and Dutchmen (i.e. non-French people). X, on the other hand, is almost proud of the fact they didn’t go to the world’s most famous house of art. Which means, of course, that I couldn’t resist again:

Let's see, more museums to cross off on future travels...the Guggenheim and MOMA in New York City, the Prado in Madrid, the Tokyo National Museum...and, oh yes, the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. - all that stuff happened in Europe. :-)

At this point, I should stop and say that I’m somewhat familiar with X. I’ve been in Taiwan too long, for I can remember when X was a newbie to this island, and was asking for advice in the very same forum. Only X wasn’t too pleased with the suggestions that they were being given (“This isn’t what I want!”), and I was somewhat taken aback at the idea of people who were just off the boat taking a good, hard look at the proverbial gift horse’s set of dentures. Time has taught X some courtesy – they’ve now been in Taiwan long enough, and can speak Mandarin well enough (a fact that X likes to often bring up), that they are now a useful source of wisdom for travelers wondering about what there is to do in Taiwan (X’s suggestions are quite often very good ones).

X loves living in Taiwan, a result, no doubt, of the fact that they live in T’aipei. As I’ve written before, Taiwan’s capital often serves as a protective cocoon for its Western residents, shielding them from the unpleasantness that lies in wait in the rest of the country, hereby referred to as The Real Taiwan®. X exhibits all the classic symptoms of the bubble – what is true in T’aipei must be true for all of Taiwan – and draws all the typical conclusions about how wonderful life on Formosa truly is. When pointed out by others that T’aipei isn’t Taiwan, X will bring up such “Taiwanese” images as old women in her neighborhood speaking impenetrable dialect and eating the kinds of food that only Andrew Zimmern could get excited about. It’s almost as if someone in an urban American city was trying to prove their street cred by pointing out how close they live to the ‘hood, and does it by describing the denizens there in stereotypical terms gleaned from watching too many rap videos.

But I digress (and I’m good at doing that). I live in The Real Taiwan©, and while I am surrounded by おばさん like the ones X describes, I also live among doctors, convenience store clerks, sales reps, factory workers, farmers, civil servants, homemakers, bank clerks, mail carriers, office workers, teachers and students…the list goes on and on. Many of them do speak in Taiwanese much of the time, but many more use Mandarin as a means of daily communication (and quite a few converse in both). Yes, they do occasionally eat “exotic” foods, but most of their meals are easily digestible rice or noodle dishes, with occasional forays to places like McDonald’s and KFC, or to the local Japanese or Italian restaurant. In short, they are ordinary human beings, living ordinary lives in ordinary ways, and are no different, in fact, from the majority of their countrymen residing in the greater T'aipei metropolitan area.

Unlike many Taipei expats, X has traveled extensively throughout Taiwan, which is why their travel suggestions are often very helpful to posters in the forum. Unfortunately for X, they have to rely on public transportation to get around the island, for it appears that X has never ridden a scooter or driven a car in Taiwan, and appears terrified of the idea of doing so. This is a shame, because some of the most interesting places to visit in Taiwan are difficult, if not impossible, to reach without your own set of wheels, but this doesn’t stop X from trying to discourage people from driving. Out here in The Real Taiwan®©, where public transportation systems are not as extensive in comparison to what there is in T’aipei, we have little choice but to rely on cars, motorcycles and scooters to get around. Yes, driving conditions can be less-than-optimally-safe here, but I wouldn’t hesitate to those who are confident enough in their driving skills to rent some kind of vehicle while in Taiwan in order to get more out of their visits (e.g. driving from Hualien 花蓮 to Taroko Gorge 太魯閣).

X makes no bones about how much they enjoy it in ~~T'aipei~~ ~~Taiwan~~ T'aipei, and I have to admit I wish I could muster the same level of enthusiasm (curse you Japan!). However, X can go to extremes at times in order to “prove” that Taiwan/T'aipei is somehow the “best” place to be in Asia. Instead of relying on boring trivialities like statistics and other data, X will draw on very broad generalizations regarding other Asian societies from their friends and acquaintances in order to demonstrate that the Taiwanese, and by extension X themselves, have it good here.

But once again I digress. In all fairness to X, they have one of the better Taiwan-related blogs, certainly much better than mine. X is a good writer who has posted many interesting articles (again, superior to the dreck I usually churn out), and if I had the chance, I would love to sit down together in a café (probably in T'aipei) and share anecdotes and impressions about Taiwan with them. So, I would just like to humbly pass along to X these two pieces of unsolicited advice:

Lighten up a bit;
Always keep in mind that Taiwan means different things to different people.

For the final word on the topic of the Palace Museum (though I don’t think this will be it), G posted this today:

…you might as well advise the OP to skip Taipei entirely and head south from the airport because a third of the residents of that city are either refugees who arrived from mainland China in the late 1940s or their descendants, so the city is not really "Taiwanese" enough. You should also remind the OP to stay away from the CKS Memorial Hall, because Chiang Kai-shek was not Taiwanese. ;-)

Like the doujiang people have for breakfast, and the dongporou people order for dinner, that the museum is located in Taipei is very much part of the modern history of Taiwan. Whether the stuff inside is "Taiwanese" is not a concern: the displays consist of the cream of the imperial collection - there isn't a better one elsewhere.

I would suggest skipping a NPM if one had only half a day, following only half of the itinerary I posted above. But I would not skip it if I had a full day in Taipei - it is possible to see both the city and the museum in a full day. A stay as short as 2 hours at the NPM (which doesn't cost much to enter) can be worthwhile. Of course, it all depends on personal interests. If you have any interest in China, art, art history, Chinese history, and Chinese art history, I'd say go. As far as Chinese history museums go, you won't find a better one in the world.

Peace out.

Mummy dearest

2011-11-06T22:28:00.000+08:00

Our Sunday afternoon was spent in the cozy (as in "people packed in like sardines") confines of the National Museum of Natural Science (guólì zìrán kēxué bówùguǎn) 國立自然科學博物館 in T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中. We went there to check out an exhibit of artifacts related to burial practices in ancient Egypt, "Quest for Immortality". No photography was allowed inside:

The collection, featuring three mummies (two adults and one child), was well presented, and with good English captioning for the most part. However, unless you really enjoy rubbing elbows with your fellow citizens, the middle of a Sunday afternoon is most definitely not the ideal time to visit!

After getting the lowdown on how the ancient Egyptians approached the topic of death, we checked out the IMAX film Everest. The visuals were stunning, but I probably would've gotten more out of it if Liam Neeson's narration hadn't been dubbed into Mandarin. Amber found the film to be a little on the frightening side (all those avalanches and dizzying aerial shots), and not as much fun at the kiddie corner she explored while we were waiting for the movie to start:

One of these days, I'll have to take her to the Exploratorium in San Francisco . Just something else to add to the Things to do with Amber before I get too old, or die, whichever comes first List.

The hulking mass that is the SOGO Department Store 廣三SOGO百貨 looms menacingly over a parking lot:

When the trains hit the fan

2011-11-06T00:04:00.000+08:00

My poor wife often has to work on Saturdays, sometimes for just the mornings, but all too often for the entire day. I must admit, however, that her loss is my gain, in that I get to spend some quality time with my daughter. Usually that means going to a park to play ball games together, or to let Amber ride her bike or frolic on the playground. This afternoon, however, we went on a short day trip, taking the train from Fengyuan (Fēngyuán) 豐原 to Changhua (Zhānghuà) 彰化 in order to check out the Fan-Shaped Train Garage (shànxíng chēkù) 扇形車庫. Looking like something out of Thomas the Tank Engine, the garage is a sort of wheelhouse used for maintenance of train cars. Visiting the complex is free, with the only requirement being that visitors sign in at the entrance.

There were several permanently parked train engines at the garage. Amber insisted on clambering up all of them.

Amber poses in front of the turntable, which is used to direct the train cars into one of the 12 maintenance spaces in the background.

An observation deck provided an overlook of the garage:

We timed our visit well this afternoon as we had the chance to see the turntable being used to guide a couple of trains in and out of the large maintenance shed:

At one end of the fan-shaped garage were two vintage steam train engines:

Unless you're a trainspotter, the Fan-Shaped Train Garage is probably not worth a special trip (in our case, Amber likes trains, and Changhua isn't that far from where we live). However, it's free, fun for kids (especially if the turntable is in operation) and can be combined with the city's more well-known sites (such as the large Buddha statue 八卦山大佛像) to make Changhua an interesting daylong outing. All aboard!

Taking myself out to the ballgame

2011-11-04T22:41:00.000+08:00

Last night I had the pleasurable experience of taking in Game 2 of the 2011 Taiwan All-Star Series at the T'aichung Intercontinental Baseball Stadium 臺中市洲際棒球場. I had hoped to bring my daughter along with me, but the high price I paid for one ticket, NT2800 ($93/¥7260), put, um, paid to that idea. Still, I don't regret having gone, for events like this one don't happen very often in Taiwan, especially here in T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中. The final score was 5-3 in favor of the Major League All-Stars over the regrettably-named Chinese T'aipei national baseball team 中華臺北棒球代表隊. The Taiwanese side, made up of amateurs, players from the North American minor leagues and several plying their trade in Japan, certainly showed a lot of the what the Japanese call "fighting spirit" 闘志, coming from 2-0 down to take a 3-2 lead, but in the end poor fielding and a wild pitch did the local boys in (though the MLB squad was the official "home team" for this game). The fans were solidly behind their team throughout the game, but they didn't seem disappointed with the outcome, and big cheers were given for Curtis Granderson (a Led Zeppelin fan, judging by his at bat song) and Robinson Cano, two of Chien-Ming Wang's 王建民 former teammates from his New York Yankees days. Speaking of "The Hero of Taiwan", though he didn't pitch in this contest, his visible presence in the dugout got a lot of people excited. The only low point of last night's game was the serious injury incurred by one of the Taiwanese players, Kuo-Hui Lo (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuo_Hui_Lo#Kuo-Hui_Lo), a minor league player in the Seattle Mariners system. Lo dislocated his right ankle and fractured his right leg getting tagged out at home in the fifth inning, and had to carried off the field on a stretcher. It was obvious from the look on his face that he was in a lot of pain.

You can read a summary of Game 2 on the Major League Baseball homepage. Some video highlights can be seen by clicking on the FastCast link on the mlb.com main page (http://mlb.mlb.com/index.jsp).

A few photos from last night:

Approaching the stadium before the start of the game. Parking spaces for cars were at a premium, but having come by scooter, I was able to find a spot just a few blocks away. I was also able to avoid the traffic jam after the game by using a series of side streets behind the ballpark.

The view from my seat, just before the start of the game.

The opposing managers exchange lineup cards and go over the ground rules with the umpires. No. 16 is Bruce Bochy of the San Francisco Giants, managing the MLB team on its tour of Taiwan.

The first pitch of the game. On the mound for the MLB team is Ross Detwiler of the Washington Nationals.

Speaking of the Nationals, Screech, the team's mascot (http://washington.nationals.mlb.com/was/community/mascot.jsp), paid a visit to our section during the later innings.

The scoreboard showing the final linescore.

Players from both sides shake hands after the game.

Bubblelicious

2011-10-31T23:15:00.000+08:00

My daughter this morning in her devil costume for Halloween, the same one she wore last year. Amber likes this outfit so much she even kept it on when her mother took her to the clinic this evening to get some medicine for a small cold she has recently come down with. Happy Halloween to one and all!

And speaking of which, the following comment appeared on Facebook the other day:

"With all the party signs, decorations and costumes I've seen today, I think Halloween must be celebrated more in Taiwan than anywhere."

The person who wrote the above isn't American or Canadian, so it's likely that he/she has never experienced a genuine Halloween. But the comment did remind me of something unrelated to ghosts, goblins and pumpkins - the Bubble phenomenon. I blogged about this in an entry on Sponge Bear a couple of months ago - namely, the tendency for some Western residents on this island to assume that what they're doing, feeling, hearing and seeing in Taiwan must somehow be uniquely...um, unique. In fact, much of this so-called uniqueness can be found elsewhere in East and Southeast Asia, but ignorance is often bliss in the case of the Bubble People. There's no harm, and thus no foul, in any of this, but it does get annoying after a while reading about the same ad nauseum testimonials on how special Taiwan and the Taiwanese are.

What I forgot to point out back in that August diatribe is that there exists a sub-species of the Bubble People who reside in T'aipei, the capital and largest city on Ilha Formosa. These folks tend to assume that what they're doing, feeling, hearing and seeing in T'aipei (Táiběi) 台北 isn't unique, but actually representative of the island of Taiwan of a whole. Therefore, when one sees colorful Halloween decorations and costumes on the streets of the metropolis, it must mean the country as a whole is doing the exact same thing. The only problem is that out here in the hinterlands, aka The Real Taiwan, or the place where 90% of the Taiwanese population resides, you would be hard-pressed to find any signs of Halloween other than at some kindergartens and cram schools.

On social websites such as Facebook, or in discussion forums such as Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree or Forumosa, one can read countless comments and postings describing a cosmopolitan, fashionable and thoroughly modern land known as "Taiwan" that sounds almost completely alien to the provincialism and sheer ugliness that I encounter on an almost daily basis out in the Taiwan where I reside (which happens to be in the suburbs of the third-largest city on this island). Replace the word "Taiwan" in these descriptions with "T'aipei", and things immediately become clear. Yes, T'aipei can be a very appealing city, and certainly a very comfortable one for Western ex-pats, with all mod cons and many of the familiar trappings of home, but with just enough exoticism to impress the folks and friends back home (or when they come to visit). And it should be, for T'aipei:

receives a disproportionate share of cash from the central government in comparison with other cities, resulting in plenty of funds to be spent on parks, bike-ways, mass transportation and urban beautification projects;
and by hosting the best schools, and benefiting from its location as the headquarters for many domestic as well as international companies, attracts the best and the brightest - people who have had more dealings with non-Taiwanese and are thus more open to different things, as well as being more likely to have spent time abroad and therefore more demanding in their expectations of what a capital city should (or shouldn't) be.

Out here in the rest of Taiwan, the situation is a wee bit different. Things are not as well-planned, the architecture is more hideous to look at and it's more difficult to track down things from home. The area where I live has hundreds of eateries to choose from, but other than watered-down offerings of Japanese or Italian cuisine or the ubiquitous fast-food outlets, trying to find food that isn't Chinese or Taiwanese in origin can be a major undertaking.

T'aipei is T'aipei, and Taiwan is Taiwan, and quite often the twain doesn't meet. I just wish some of my fellow ex-pats can remember that the next time they marvel in how wonderful life is in the big city.

Some good news for those folks in Taiwan who are obsessed with beating the Koreans: according to this Kyōdō News 共同通信社 article, Sony to end LCD panel venture with Samsung, tap cheaper sources, from today's Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ:

"Sony Corp. ソニー株式会社 is in talks to terminate its joint venture with South Korea's Samsung Electronics Co. for the production of liquid crystal displays for televisions...Sony has decided to increase procurement of cheap displays from Taiwanese and other manufacturers rather than focusing on the joint venture."

In the zero sum game of relations between the southern half of the divided Korean peninsula and the renegade province of China, South Korea's loss is Taiwan's gain.

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night

2011-10-29T22:17:00.000+08:00

My daughter rides her bike at night on that tree-lined paved strip that lies between the National Museum of Natural Science (guólì zìrán kēxué bówùguǎn) 國立自然科學博物館 and Chungkang Road (Zhōnggǎnglù) 中港路:

A small temple located just outside the museum grounds. If you look closely on the far-left side of the photo, you will see a zebra standing there. Zebras play a very important role in the traditional folk religions of Tai...OK, actually I haven't a clue as to why the model was placed there:

A fairly typical nighttime street scene of T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中:

Scratching my head in wonder

2011-10-28T22:38:00.000+08:00

A not-too-successful attempt at carving our very own Halloween Jack-o'-lantern. Will till next year, which is something I hope the Texas Rangers won't be saying after tomorrow's Game 7.

I came across an article this morning in the Taipei Times about the push to declare Yushan 玉山, the highest mountain in both Taiwan and East Asia...well, I'll let the opening two paragraphs speak for themselves:

"Local non-governmental organizations (NGO) were lobbying yesterday for the public to vote for Yushan to become one of the world’s 'New 7 Wonders of Nature.'

The organizations urged the public to cast their vote, asking people to treat the finals of the competition even more seriously than the upcoming presidential election."

Yushan as one of the "New 7 Wonders of Nature"? I realize that many Taiwanese are only dimly aware of what lies outside the confines of the Chinese-speaking universe, but this is being carried to ridiculous extremes. Yes, at 3,952 m (12,966 ft), Yushan is an impressive piece of geologic uplift for this corner of the planet, but there are innumerable mountains the world over of much greater stature and grandeur (and as the Wikipedia entry points out, Yushan is only the fourth highest mountain on an island). Even in relation to East Asia, Taiwan's mightiest peak can't match the aesthetic beauty or iconic status of Japan's Mount Fuji 富士山, which has been venerated both spiritually and aesthetically for centuries. But Fuji-san, for some odd reason, isn't on the list of finalists. What is going up against Yushan is...well, to quote the Taipei Times article again:

"Wang [Chun-hsiu 王俊秀, who organized the Vote-for-Yushan campaign] said that the last thing Taiwanese would want to see is Yushan losing the contest to South Korea’s Jeju Island - the only other natural landmark in northeast Asia that has made it as far as the finals.

'Yushan is and will be the president of the Republic of China 中華民國 - forever,' Wang said.

'Winning or losing in this race matters much more than the upcoming presidential election,' he said.

Wang, in collaboration with the Central Taiwan Sustainable Development Alliance, urged Taiwanese both at home and abroad, and all Chinese people, to go online and cast their vote for the breathtaking landmark."

Jeju Island, a Natural World Heritage Site that has the gall to be under Korean administration. Many Taiwanese are obsessed with South Korea. As with many Japanese, South Korean TV dramas, pop stars and fashion are popular, but for people here, South Korea is a hated rival, one that has to bested in any and all competitions, whether it be sports, economics or, as in this case, a pointless public relations contest. And if it takes overly emotive appeals to pan-Chinese nationalism to put those former vassals back in their rightful places, then so be it.

In all fairness, Koreans are hardly known for their pragmatic responses in matters of national pride - Dokdo Island and the "East Sea" are just two issues in which South Korean "patriots" frequently make fools out of themselves. But for most people in South Korea, Japan is the object of obsession, and the rival that must be beat, not Taiwan. While many here work themselves up in a lather over those dastardly Koreans, the latter most likely don't pay that much attention to how they're viewed by the Taiwanese. For those in Taiwan who fret over how this island is "losing out" to South Korea, I'd just like to say that the rest of the world really couldn't ~~give a rat's ass~~ care less about how the R.O.C. ranks in relation to the R.O.K. It's time to get over this asinine fixation.

As for the "New 7 Wonders of Nature", rather than leaving things up to online voting (with all the ugly nationalism and attempts at ballot box-stuffing that will inevitably result), why not just appoint an international committee of experts to settle the issue? Fill it up with scientists who can analyze the geologic and physical facets, and artists, poets and writers who can provide an emotional perspective on the different sites, and let them come to a consensus.

Or better yet, just drop the whole damn thing so that Mr. Wang can apply all that energy of his towards something that's actually useful.

Happy Halloween!

Blown calls

2011-10-27T22:47:00.000+08:00

My daughter poses outside of Chungshan Hall (Zhōngshān táng) 中山堂 in T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中on Tuesday night. We had just seen the Moscow City Ballet perform Swan Lake. The dancing was incredible, and though the ballerinas received the greatest applause, I was most impressed with the man playing the role of Prince Siegfried. His combination of grace and strength was the envy of this clumsy clod.

One thing you can be sure of about Taiwan is that when it comes to its relationships with the outside world, this society often manages to squander the few opportunities that come its way (and I should know - missed chances have always been the dominant storyline of my life). In this case, I'm referring to the upcoming visit to this island by a team of Major League Baseball players who will play a series of exhibition games next week against the Chinese T'aipei 中華台北 national team http://www.chinapost.com.tw/taiwan/national/national-news/2011/10/27/321123/Wang-joins.htm. One of the stops on the tour will be next Thursday at the T'aichung Intercontinental Baseball Stadium 臺中市洲際棒球場. Tickets are pricey - the one my wife bought for me at 7-Eleven this evening cost NT2800 ($93/¥7060), but I'll treat it as an early Xmas present. I remember seeing Sammy Sosa and company play as part of an MLB All-Star team vs. a squad of Japanese stars many moons ago (well, 1998 to be exact) at the Tōkyō Dome 東京ドーム (Sosa hit a long home run as the major leaguers came from behind to win 9-8), and I'm hoping this upcoming contest will also be a fun one to watch.

So what's the problem? Among the players from the American and National Leagues who will be taking part in the 2011 Taiwan All-Star Series are none other than Chien-Ming Wang 王建民 of the Washington Nationals, and his fellow countryman on the Detroit Tigers, Fu-Te Ni 倪福德. The catch is that Wang and Ni, despite honing their professions in the baseball world's equivalent of the Premier League, will not be playing with their peers from North America. Instead, Wang and Ni will be throwing the ball for Taiwan...I mean Chinese T'aipei. And what's wrong with that, you might ask? Where do I begin...

Let's start by making a comparison with what happened on recent MLB all-star tours of Japan. During the past decade, both Ichirō Suzuki 鈴木一朗 of the Seattle Mariners and Hideki Matsui 松井秀喜 (then of the New York Yankees) played in Japan, in front of their countrymen, as members of the MLB squad, and not on the team made of up of stars from Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB) プロ野球. The tours were promoted as contests pitting a team of MLB players against a squad made up of local heroes, and very few Japanese seemed to mind that Ichirō and Godzilla were playing with Americans (of both the North and Latin persuasions) and not against them. In fact, most fans looked forward to seeing the local boys who had made good overseas sharing the field as equals...teammates...with some of the best baseball players in the world. The fact that they were on the winning sides (the MLB teams won most of the games against the Japanese all-stars) seemed to please the Japanese specatators all the more.

Cue Taiwan. Wang, and to a lesser extent Ni, have shown that they belong on a Major League playing field. Wang, especially, had a couple of stellar seasons with the (hated) Yankees, and this year he made a successful return from the disabled list with the Nats. Ni has struggled in recent years, spending the past couple of season with the Triple A Toledo Mud Hens, but he still has the potential to return to the big leagues. These two players (a third Taiwanese from MLB, Hong-Chih Kuo 郭泓志, seems to have given up on the game) deserve to be on the same team as their peers from the AL and NL, and not reduced to serving as ringers for the local side, which unfortunately seems to be the case here. It's as if the San Francisco Giants were to play the University of Washington in an exhibition game, with Giants standout pitcher (and Cy Young Award winner) Tim Lincecum suiting up for the Huskies, his alma mater.

I'm left to wonder if Taiwanese fans are not ready to allow Wang to have his moment, basking in the adulation of the hometown (home country?) crowd in the presence of his fellow teammates from the majors. No, Wang and Ni have to switch sides, and carry the banner for the natives against the foreign horde. For in all likelihood, this series won't be viewed here as a contest between a group of baseball players who ply their trade in the American and National Leagues (made up of 30 teams based in the USA and Canada), vs. a team of players representing the local Chinese Professional Baseball League 中華職業棒球大聯盟 (with perhaps a couple of players who are based in Japan). Rather, I have the feeling Taiwanese fans will think of these exhibition contests as battles between Americans and Taiwanese, despite the fact that in any given baseball season, between 25-30% of players on Major League rosters were born outside of the United States, with Taiwan included on that list (and a quick perusal of the lineup for the MLB team coming to Taiwan reveals several players from the Dominican Republic, along with a couple of Venezuelans). And you can't have the Pride of Taiwan siding with the barbarians now, can you?

沒關係. Parochialism may rule, and chances to broaden the international outlook of the local populace are in danger of being squandered, but I'm still looking forward to next week's game. Play ball!

Sunday Bloody Sunday

2011-10-23T21:57:00.000+08:00

Lunch on this pleasant flatland Sunday was at a small restaurant by the name of Peifang Hand-Cut Noodles (běifāngguǎn) 北方館, located just to the north of Chungcheng Park (Zhōngzhèng gōngyuán) 中正公園 in beautiful downtown T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中:

Beef noodles are one of the more popular dishes in Taiwan, and when you think of this island, one of the things that comes to mind...well, it probably isn't beef noodles, let alone any of the other so-called "famous" things of Taiwan. But I digress. I'm not a big fan of ~~anything Taiwanese~~ beef noodles, as the beef is often too fatty for my liking, and the noodles frequently leave a peculiar aftertaste. But as my wife explained, the noodles at Peifang Hand-Cut Noodles are sliced by knife and hand (as opposed to a machine in many establishments), resulting in a thicker version than you would normally find. The meat was also chunkier, with very little fat. All in all, well worth the NT100 ($3.30/¥250) cost for one bowl:

Also worth the investment, in this case NT219 (/$7.20¥550), was this box of Cap'N Crunch cereal, which Amber and I discovered at Jasons Market Place, an upscale supermarket selling a number of food and drink items from Japan, the U.S. and other Western countries. Their T'aichung branch can be found on one of the basement floors in the Chungyu Department Store (Zhōngyǒu bǎihuògōngsī) 中友百貨公司:

Anticipating future sugar rushes, Amber strikes a pose outside Chungshan Hall (Zhōngshān táng) 中山堂. We're going there this coming Tuesday to see the Moscow City Ballet perform "Swan Lake" because this family is really into all that culture and stuff:

At Pamela's strong urging, I volunteered to donate blood this afternoon. I felt really good about myself for doing so, and I look forward to doing it again. As for my wife, she'll do anything for an hour's worth of free parking, especially if it means having her husband drained of some of his vital life essence. My daughter, meanwhile, managed to capture the exact moment the needle was stuck into my arm:

Chungcheng Park appears to have a serious rodent problem. As the afternoon sunlight began to fade, the park's resident rats started to appear, emerging from their well-placed hiding spots:

波ちゃん and the Asian urban park experience:

Things to do in Wufeng when you're dead

2011-10-18T21:46:00.000+08:00

Like hiking. A few weeks, Amber, Pamela and I visited the Wufeng Ch'ingt'ung Lin Hiking Trail (Wùfēng qīngtóng lín bùdào) 霧峰青桐林步道, located in the former township of Wufeng (Wùfēng) 霧峰, of course. I posted about our trip here. At that time, we were only able to walk a small part of the trails in the area, owing to the fact that we arrived there somewhat late in the afternoon, and that my wife isn't used to walking and my daughter can only go as far as her pre-elementary school legs can carry her. So following my morning classes today, I took the family car and made the 90-minute drive into the hills of Wufeng to see what more the trails had to offer.

What was on offer were some clearly laid out and well-maintained paths that didn't offer much of a challenge...until I wandered off-track, not once, but twice. Though the trail was well-signposted in most places, the maps were difficult to figure out (with north pointing somewhere other than north, as is often the case with trail maps in Taiwan) and...oh, did I mention something just now about the route being well-marked? It was until I reached one key junction, where I followed the arrow leading downhill, expecting it to close the loop I was planning to walk. Instead, I found myself following a path that grew narrower and steeper until the use of ropes was required. At that point, it became obvious that I had gone the wrong way, so I turned around and headed back uphill to the junction. There, I followed another arrow pointing in a different direction. This trail took me up one ridge to a large rest area, then down and up another ridge, before continuing along a rapidly shrinking path. There were some pretty good views of the surrounding hillsides, but it was obvious I was heading the wrong way again. Returning to the original junction, I finally found the path I needed, which was unmarked, of course.

If all this sounds like an exercise in frustration, it wasn't. The errant paths described above were fun to walk, and beg further exploration, which I intend on doing. In all, I spent nearly 2½ hours traversing the trails in this part of Wufeng, working up a decent sweat and relishing the fact that most of the time I had the mountain to myself. I'll be back.

My apologies for the quality of some of the following photos. Lighting conditions were less-than-ideal in many places on the trails:

Check here for directions on how to get to the Wufeng Ch'ingt'ung Lin Hiking Trail.

Eating in Taichung: A close shave

2011-10-16T19:13:00.000+08:00

Tired of never having an answer when my wife asks what I would like to eat, I've decided I'm going to try and broaden my limited culinary horizons by checking out some recommended eateries here in T'aichung (Táizhōng) 台中. Which is why early this afternoon the three of us rode the train to T'aichung Station 台中車站, exited the building and began walking up Chungcheng Road (Zhōngzhènglù) 中正路. Following lunch at an unremarkable steak restaurant, we made our way to Malulien (Mǎlùlián) 瑪露連:

The specialty here is shaved ice - we ordered the "three toppings bowl" 三種冰:

Pamela chose pineapple as one topping, Amber went for some kind of jelly concoction and I opted for sweet red beans (aka azuki beans, from the Japanese アズキ). The verdict: not too shabby, and the covered outdoor eating area was surprisingly comfortable (though I think in the midst of a hot, sticky summer I would probably appreciate an indoor, air-conditioned room).

My wife, however, didn't think Malulien's chua bing (a Taiwanese word) was anything out of the ordinary. She's like that.

The view of Chungcheng Road from the steak restaurant. On Sunday afternoons, the streets are filled with Taiwanese teenagers and Southeast Asian workers, the latter enjoying their day off.