Of Saturdays 星期六

Amber crosses over Ch'úng​té​ Road 崇德路 on the T'án​yǎ​shén​ cycling trail 潭雅神綠園道.

At the Hú​lutūn​​ Tourist Night Market 葫蘆墩觀光夜市:

Amber tucks into a bowl of catfish. My wife actually doesn't know the Mandarin word for this dish - she always orders it by its Taiwanese name 土虱, which sounds like "Tosa" to my ears, though Pamela insists I'm not saying it correctly.

Amber took this shot of me tucking into a cup of San Miguel beer.

Market Sweeping Day

One of the many perks of being married to a local is that come Tomb Sweeping Day (Ch'īng​míng​) 清明, we don't need to do anything. This has nothing to do with being a foreign barbarian, and everything to do with the traditional belief that when a woman gets married, she "leaves" her family and enters her husband's familial circle. As a result, she is no longer responsible for helping with the upkeep of her family's grave sites, and is expected instead to tend to those of her husband's various relations, like mine. Only in my case, my ancestors are entombed at scattered locations around the globe (well, in California and England, at least), and reside in cemeteries and memorial parks that are tended to by full-time groundskeeping staff. Ergo, it's a win-win situation for both my wife and myself on this particular national holiday.

My friend Steve, who is also married to a Taiwanese (and the father of two great kids) would probably agree with me, which is why he had time today to join me in an attempted hike of Huǒ​yán​shān​ 火炎山, in Miáo​lì​ County's 苗栗縣 Sān​ì 三義​. I say "attempted" because it seems the Taiwanese gods decided on a little payback for our not having tombs to tend to today. Not long after setting out on our triumphant conquest of the 602-meter (1975-foot) summit, the sole of my left hiking boot starting peeling off, having come unglued soon after we started climbing. That put an end to our hike, but it was still enjoyable for the two of us to spend some time together sans dependents, and I was able to get the boot resoled by a cobbler this evening in downtown Fēng​yuán​ 豐原, so I have nothing to carp about on this holiday. Here's Steve befriending an Alaskan Malamute that had been tied to a car and left behind while its owner presumably was also hiking on Huoyanshan​:

As mentioned above, Pamela, Amber and I went downtown this afternoon to have my hiking shoe seen to, and as we were already in the area, we killed time waiting for the boot to be repaired by snacking on Fengyuan's one-and-only tourist spot, the Miào​tūng​ Night Market 廟東夜市 food street. Among other treats, we sampled garlic rice (suànjòufàn) 蒜肉飯; spring rolls (ch'ūnchüǎn) 春捲; pork meat pie (chūjòu hsiènpǐng) 豬肉餡餅; and something called a "salad boat" (shālāch'uán) 沙拉船, a kind of long hot dog bun filled with meat and vegetables. It was quite tasty, though a little on the messy side. Munching this way ended up being far more expensive that having a sit-down meal at a proper restaurant, which is why we don't usually do this sort of thing, but Amber enjoyed the atmosphere. If you're looking for reflective patrons quietly sizing up the finer points of the various cuisines on offer, then food streets and night markets are places best avoided.

(上) Amber strikes a pose; (下) Kumaichi, purveyor of fine Taiwanese papaya milk drinks (mùkuā niúnǎi) 木瓜牛奶.

Which one do you choose?

Scenes from a night market

This sign is advertisement for shark extract, only instead of using the Japanese loanword for extract, エキス, as originally intended (and which is correctly written on the sign hanging above the entrance), the sign maker forgot a stroke here, leaving us with エキフ.

As anyone who has ever been to T'ái​wān 台灣​ can tell you, night markets 夜市 are an intrinsic part of local life. Following Amber's swimming lesson this evening (in which she successfully passed her month-end exam, and thus has been promoted to Level 18, a feat she was extremely proud of), we visited one of Fēng​yuán​'s 豐原 local yèh​shì​h, the Hú​lutūn​​ Tourist Night Market 葫蘆墩觀光夜市:

Unlike the more well-known markets, such as the one in T'ái​chūng's 臺中 Féng​chiǎ 逢甲​ area, Huludun​​ (as well as the others here in Fengyuan) is smaller, quieter and only open once or twice a week (Fridays and Saturdays in this case). In other words, it's very local (the few tourists that visit Fengyuan tend to flock to the Miào​tūng 廟東 food street in the downtown area). Though you can buy things like cheap, Made in China clothing and cheap, dangerous, Made in China toys, the main reason for visiting virtually any night market is to eat. Which is what we did...

My wife is getting ready to dig into one of her favorites, stinky tofu 臭豆腐. For those of you who aren't familiar with ch'òu​tòu​fu​, the name should say it all (or can you follow this Wikipedia link). Some misguided foreign residents claim to like it in a doomed-to-be-ultimately unsuccessful effort to try and "fit in" to the local culture. Others such as myself are quite content to remain barbarians at the gates when it comes to these island "delicacies". My daughter is a bicultural child, but when it comes to stinky tofu, she lets her American side show. Tonight she did so by asking for steak (the steam is a result of the fact the temperature was around 15C/60F this evening - chilly by Taiwanese standards).

In addition to eating, we ate some more, including fried pork and sausages. Here is Amber munching on some quail eggs:

Chia Hsiang is a bakery based in the southern city of T'áinán​ ​臺南 that sells its baked goods at night markets the length and breadth of Taiwan. Well, the length anyway, as I'm sure there aren't too many markets in the central mountains 中央山脈.

Next to eating, the most popular activities at night markets are games. Here Amber enjoys a carnival ride under the protective watch of a large SpongeBob SquarePants, no doubt fully licensed from Nickelodeon, because, as we all know, a Taiwanese night market would never engage in activities that could even be remotely construed as being theft of intellectual property:

美味しく楽しむ。健康する！