Before I was so rudely interrupted...

When your cat or dog gets sick because they failed to live in accord with the Tào 道, this is the place to take them.

I finally got my laptop back from the shop on Friday afternoon, and everything appears to be fine. Last Friday, I turned the computer on, plugged the cord in and SNAP, CRACKLE and POP, it simply stopped operating. Naturally, when I brought it in to have it looked at the following day, everything seemingly worked as usual in front of the technician. Perhaps out of sympathy for all the egg on my face, he suggested leaving the laptop there to have it looked over, "just to be sure". Well, everything appears to be OK now (knock on wood). No one at the shop mentioned any problems, and it didn't cost anything to be checked, so I'm assuming that all is well. There is, of course, the old adage about not making assumptions, but it's best not to go there right now.

While the computer was away, the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ carried an interesting Kyōdō News 共同通信社 story highlighting the reasons behind the generosity shown by the Taiwanese public in the wake of the devastating earthquake and tsunami 津波 in northeastern Japan on March 11. "Intricate bonds behind Taiwan aid", by Ko Shu-ling notes that the people of T’áiwān 台灣 have donated more money that those of any other country, including South Korea and the United States, and suggests that the simple answer is that the Taiwanese are returning the favor for all the assistance given by Japan after the devastating Chíchí Earthquake 921大地震 of Sept. 21, 1999. But Ko doesn't leave it at that:

 "...ties between the two countries go far deeper and stem from their colonial relationship, which lasted half a century. While other Asian countries regard the history of their Japanese occupation negatively, the Taiwanese have different feelings toward their former colonial masters.

For one thing, the Japanese colonial period from 1895 to 1945 saw great developments in Taiwan. The Japanese built railroads and highways, developed steamship lines, dredged and modernized harbors, constructed irrigation systems and built hydroelectric power plants.

Of course, this work was intended to advance Japanese interests in the region. Yet it also helped establish the foundations of Taiwan's industrial and economic developments in the 1950s and 1960s, laying the groundwork for the country's current prosperity.

And the story doesn't end with modernization. With the arrival of the Nationalist Party  中國國民黨after their defeat by the communists in 1949, analysts said the Taiwanese found other reasons to appreciate the Japanese.

While the new occupiers from the mainland had much in common culturally with island inhabitants and they instituted policies meant to turn the Taiwanese against their former colonizers, Nationalist Party corruption and brutality only produced nostalgia for the past.

It is also the case that Japan's departure didn't sever social, cultural and economic ties between the two countries. For example, Japanese universities provided educational opportunities unavailable at that time in Taiwan, and to this day many Taiwanese students go to Japan to obtain advanced degrees."

Following a few references to the film Cape No. 7海角七號, Ko concludes this brief analysis by noting that:

"Young Taiwanese have shown great affection for various forms of Japanese popular culture, from manga 漫画, Hello Kitty ハローキティ and animated films アニメ to martial arts 格闘技, soap operas and romantic songs.

In addition to shared history, social ties and popular culture, changing geopolitical conditions in East Asia have helped renew bonds between Taiwan and Japan, pundits say.

China's rising power is a source of mutual insecurity, along with waning confidence that the United States is willing or able to underwrite the security interests of either country.

An act of solidarity was Tōkyō's 東京 decision, against Chinese objections, to allow former Taiwanese President Lee Teng-hui (Lǐ​ Tēng​huī​) 李登輝 to visit Japan to seek medical attention.

A small gesture perhaps, yet the act of admitting Lee resonates deeply, once again, with a history of ties that transcend mere political or military alliances. Refusing to bow to Chinese pressure to deny their former leader medical treatment was met with quiet gratitude among Taiwanese, gratitude that took material form in the outpouring of generosity for disaster relief following March 11."

The Lee connection might be overstating the case, but the deep ties mentioned in the article can be easily seen in every city and town on the island. You just have to know where to look. 

For example:

ガンダム is Gundam, the anime series about giant robots. In Chinese, Gundam is (or should be) 鋼彈, or Kāngtàn.

My daughter eyes a bag of custard-cream cakes from Kobayashi, a central Taiwan bakery that has been in business since 1950. Despite starting up in the aftermath of the Chinese Civil War 國共內戰 and the retreat of the KMT to Taiwan, it appears the company saw fit to adopt a Japanese name instead of the Mandarin Hsiǎolín 小林.

Extolling the virtues of an ultra-concentrated specially-made milk tea, in a big way with a big sign.

Hey baby, what's your sign?

The messages are there, if you know where and what to look for. These pictures were taken in the course of a single afternoon (yesterday, to be precise) in the central city of T'áichūng 臺中. With one exception, all of these signs refer to restaurants, which shows the extent to which Japanese cuisine has penetrated Taiwanese culture (even if the food is often prepared in ways that ensure maximum blandness and a minimum of flavor):

This establishment proudly proclaims they are particular about (or is that obsessed with?) creative Japanese-style meals.

This poster in the underground passage near the Sogō Department Store 崇光百貨 is promoting a "Huālien 花蓮 - T'áitūng 台東 Valley Food Festival" at the Splendor Hotel. It took some checking on the Japanese Google and Wikipedia sites to work out that かとうじゅうこく, Katōjūkoku, refers to the East Rift Valley, 花東縦谷 in Japanese and Huātūng tsùngkǔ 花東縱谷 in Chinese.

These words on the window of a restaurant extol the virtues of a company called Fans Food Service ファンズフードサービス and its commitment to Wagyū beef 和牛.

This establishment boasted of specializing 専門店 in rāmen noodles ラーメン and fried rice omelets オムライス. That's "boasted" in the past tense of the word, as the restaurant appeared to be closed for good.

This boutique is the exception to the above restaurants. At first glance, there's no obvious 日本語 connection, unless you know that the word for apple in Japanese is ringo リンゴ. P'íngkuǒ 蘋果 just doesn't have same appeal.

Family Ties

With plenty of time to kill this afternoon, I did a little bit of sightseeing in the southern part of T'ái​chūng​ 臺中. Located in a small lane just off of busy Kuó​kuāng Road 國光路 lies the ​"Taichung Ancestral Temple of Lín​'s Family, Inc." 台中林氏宗廟. Yes, that's "Inc." - this temple is apparently a business entity of legal standing. It's also a "Third Grade National Historic Monument", whatever that entails. All over T'ái​wān​ 台灣 you can find references to different gradations of preservation, without any explanation as to the significance of the different grades. About the only thing I know about this temple is that it was built in 1919 - all the brochures and signs on site were in Chinese only. Perhaps because of its designation as a historic sight, and/or its status as a family temple, there weren't any worshipers around at the time I stopped by (though there was one man doing some t'ài​ chí 太極拳-like exercises with what looked liked a sword in the front courtyard, plus a couple of photographers). Still, ​the Lín​ family ancestral temple made for a pleasant break from a busy day.

A case of the crabs

What do you do on a warm but overcast day, when the mist is hanging in the air and the skies are threatening to unleash a downpour? You go to the Kāo​měi​ Wetland 高美濕地 and look for crabs, of course:

And afterward you visit the T'ái​chūng Harbor Fish Market 台中港魚市場 in Wú​ch'ī​ 梧棲, where you check out the many kinds of seafood on display, some of which (like the pair of cuttlefish, or wū​tséi 烏賊  pictured below) are VERY fresh:

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One thing you can't avoid at the fish market is having to run the gantlet of aggressive touts trying to herd customers into their seafood restaurants:

You can read an excellent account of what it's like trying to eat at tourist markets in this country by following this link.

On the way home, we found ourselves following one of the more hard-to-explain-but-not-uncommon scenes of like on this island: the "spicy girl" (là​mèi) 辣妹 singing an enka 演歌 song from a stage that has been mounted at the rear of one of those ubiquitous blue pickup trucks. She belts her tune while the truck is moving, usually included in a Taoist 道教 festival (like this evening), but occasionally ​as part of a funeral procession. The presence of the "hot babe" (if your idea of sexiness was formed during the Eisenhower administration, that is) has been explained to me as a way of "pleasing the gods", but no doubt the local おじさん are also quite happy to see (and hear) these trucks go by:

Changes in plans

Due to a scheduling mix-up on our (read my wife's) part, Amber didn't have her regular Saturday afternoon swimming lesson today (she'll do a makeup class next Tuesday). Also, Pamela had a rare day off, meaning that for first time in ages, all three of us were free on a Saturday afternoon. So naturally we took advantage of the long (for us) weekend by going out of town, right? Um, wrong. It seems Mother Nature had other ideas. Rain or not, I would've gone ahead and gotten the hell out of Dodge, at least for one night (for me, T'ái​wān​ 台灣 is a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Wait a minute...), but She Who Must Be Obeyed (because She Is Also Probably Right) decreed that we had to wait for sunnier days, and that was that.

Oh well, seeing as T'ái​wān is in the midst of its worst drought in over eight years, this rain is badly needed. And the three of us still had a pretty good day, beginning with one of Amber's periodic modeling sessions, and ending with an afternoon performance at the Chūng​yŭ Department Store 中友百貨公司 by the cast from YOYO TV. I don't normally approve of what's broadcast on YOYO (and on its rival channel, MOMO) - the performers are young and handsome/beautiful, and I don't like the subtle messages this fact is suggesting to the minds of their young viewers (in comparison, the entertainers on NHK's 日本放送協会 kids shows look more like real people). But Amber really enjoyed the show, singing and dancing for the better part of an hour, so curmudgeonly old dad is happy that his daughter is happy.

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The superstar model is seen to by her retinue of personal attendants. Amber's photos should up on this link from next Tuesday (May 17).

Because 三喜屋 just doesn't sound as cool when pronounced as Sān​hsǐwū​.

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(上 I couldn't understand the meaning of kikupan, until I realized I was reading くきパン the wrong way. Kukipan Bread 九鬼麵包, doh! (下) Hitola Sushi is a local conveyor-belt sushi 回転寿司 chain. The name appears to be a phonetic transcription of the Mandarin reading of the characters 喜多楽, Hsǐtōlè​ (Kitaraku きたらく in Japanese)​​.

Oh, my, it's a shop telling hand-rolled sushi, or temaki 手巻き. Lions and tigers and bears, おまい!

English: Welcome a top-class massage service.

日本語：いらっしゃいませ先クラスのマッサージのサービスする。

中文: ???

In the news

From Friday's online edition of Japan Today (300-strong Taiwan tourism delegation visits Hokkaidō, Kyōdō News 共同通信社 ):

"A 300-strong T'ái​wān​ 台灣 tourism delegation led by Wang Jin-pyng (Wáng​ Chīn-​p'íng) 王金平​, president of the island’s Legislative Yuan 立法院 or parliament, arrived in Hokkaidō 北海道 on Thursday to help rehabilitate Japan’s tourism industry, which has been hit hard by the March 11 earthquake, tsunami 津波 and subsequent nuclear crisis.

'I want to send a strong message to Taiwanese people that Hokkaido is safe and they can visit here at ease,' Wang told a news conference in Sapporo 札幌.

The delegation is visiting at the request of Hokkaido Governor Harumi Takahashi 高橋はるみ, who has been seeking to restore tourism in the northern island, as Taiwan is Hokkaido’s top source of foreign tourists, accounting for almost a quarter of all foreign visitors.

In fiscal 2009, the number of Taiwanese who visited Hokkaido came to around 180,000.

While in Hokkaid, Wang’s delegation will visit Sapporo, Kushiro 釧路 and Otaru 小樽.

According to the Japan National Tourism Organization 国際観光振興機構, Taiwan accounted for the second-largest group of foreign tourists to Japan last year, totaling almost 1.14 million. The largest number of tourists came from South Korea."

Wang is a significant figure in local politics here. Not only does he hold the powerful position of parliamentary president, he is also the biggest rival to President Ma Ying-jeou (Mǎ​ Yīng​-chiǔ​) 馬英九 within the ruling Kuó​mín​tǎng 中國國民黨. Wang represents the party's pro-localization faction, i.e. those KMT members who were born and raised on this island, and can speak the Taiwanese dialect known as Hoklo (T'ái​yǔ) 台語. This often pits him against the "mainlanders" (​wài​shěng​jén​) 外省人, who still hold many positions of power and influence in the ruling party. Wang also has close ties to the Japanese political class, and he is a frequent visitor to Japan, often on missions to repair once-close ties that have been damaged in recent years by Ma's pro-China policies.

No wonder my Mandarin sucks...

...what with all these distractions around:

While having dinner at Yoshinoya 吉野家 on Tuesday, I looked up at a sign on the wall. Starting from the right were three vertical rows of Chinese characters, but it was the fourth column at the far left that caught my eye: 新朝食を食べましょう, "Let's eat a new breakfast". Am I the only one who notices this kind of stuff?

I'm not sure what to make of this sign. 竹風 in Chinese is chú​fēng, but according to the hiragana 平仮名, it should be read as takekaze たけかぜ. But what about 食堂, which is a common compound often seen in Japan (it can mean "cafeteria", "restaurant" or "dining hall"), and is pronounced in Japanese as shokud​ō? Seeing as there isn't any furigana 振り仮名 for this one, am I to assume that the name of this establishment is "Takekaze Shí​ht'áng​"?

I just hate it when I'm passing by an unassuming tea stand, only to notice at the last moment something unusual written in small characters in a corner of the sign. What's even more annoying is discovering that an important message such as the one here (that this one of a kind most original flavor will enable me to give priority to a lifestyle of environmental protection and human health) is buried deep in the fine print.

If I were a Taiwanese person who couldn't understand Japanese, I wouldn't know what was unique about J950 jeans. As an American whose Japanese isn't bad (but not great, unfortunately), I don't know what is special about these jeans, either. Oh well, they probably wouldn't fit me anyway.

Some signs don't care whether or not you can read what they say. They're just too big to ignore, confident that people will be drawn inside the premises to have a gander at what's on offer (for the record, it says "Perfect evolution", and obviously refers to the most advanced stage of development that has been reached in the evolutionary history of luggage. This suitcase most definitely has not been intelligently designed).