Sunday Bloody Sunday

Lunch on this pleasant flatland Sunday was at a small restaurant by the name of Peifang Hand-Cut Noodles 北方館, located just to the north of Chungcheng Park 中正公園 in beautiful downtown T'aichung 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 Beifang 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 Taichung branch can be found on one of the basement floors in the Chungyu Department Store 中友百貨公司:

Anticipating future sugar rushes, Amber strikes a pose outside Chungshan Hall 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:

Zhongzheng 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

Like hiking. A few weeks, Amber, Pamela and I visited the Wufeng Ch'ingt'ung Lin Hiking Trail 霧峰青桐林步道, located in the former township of Wufeng 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 Qingtong Lin Hiking Trail.

Eating in Taichung: A close shave

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 台中. Which is why early this afternoon the three of us rode the train to Taichung Station 台中車站, exited the building and began walking up Chungcheng Road 中正路. Following lunch at an unremarkable steak restaurant, we made our way to Malulien 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 Zhongzheng 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.

Rinky-dink

Shopping for something as mundane as milk at a hypermarket in Taiwan like Carrefour or A-Mart 愛買 can be an ordeal that brings out some of the worst traits in the Taiwanese national character. As soon as you approach the dairy section, a horde of middle-aged female milk touts will descend upon you. Small plastic cups filled with samples of milk or a yogurt drink will be shoved in your face and/or hands, and the women will aggressively vie with one another to deliver their sales pitches in an attempt to get you to purchase their particular product. Some of the more annoying aspects of this competition include placing milk jugs in the hands of young children, knowing that the kids won’t refuse an adult, and rudely interrupting the conversation I’m trying to have with my daughter. But, hey, it’s English, after all, and not Mandarin or Taiwanese, so it’s perfectly acceptable to butt in.

Which brings me to the subject of English, for the most annoying thing about the above dairy shills is the tendency of some of them to speak in broken, horrible English to Amber. I’m probably overly sensitive on this subject, but I’m careful to ensure that my daughter is exposed to correct, natural English while she’s living in Taiwan, and I don’t appreciate less-than-fluent natives trying to undo all my hard work. This afternoon at the local A-Mart I actually had to tell one saleswoman to speak in Mandarin to Amber because her English was too poor. 

My daughter is a citizen of the Republic of China 中華民國, and a holder of an R.O.C. passport. She speaks Mandarin as fluently as any 5½ year-old child can. But she looks a lot more like me than she does her mother (sorry, Amber), and when the two of us are outside, many people will insist on using English to talk to her (or at her, in some cases). Unfortunately, the English language skills of many of these folks are worse than my Mandarin ability. Funnily enough, though, when Amber is out with just her mother, almost everyone will speak to my daughter in Mandarin, despite the fact her appearance hasn’t changed one bit just by being with the other parent. 

What really irritates me are those parents who try speaking to their children in English when they are in our presence. They’re not talking to us, but the fact that we are close by triggers an urge in some Moms and Dads to get their kids using the international lingua franca. Of course, in most of these situations, the sentences the parents are using are riddled with strange constructions and poor usage of grammar, and spoken in peculiar accents and intonations. If the intent is to impress me with how cosmopolitan their offspring are, the results are usually mediocre at best.  You can color me unimpressed.

Finally, there are the weird hybrid sentences, such as this one I heard today on the streets of downtown Fengyuan 豐原: as Amber and I were getting ready to go into a bookseller’s, we passed by a mother and her young son. Mom saw us, then asked her boy “你要去 bookstore 嗎?”

Amber and I might have some fun in the event we encounter some Taiwanese tourists on our next visit back to the States. 

It's hard to read the words in the above photograph, but I found them to be of interest. Not the name of the business, although it's kind of cute: Taiwan Boo-Boo. No, I'm referring to the descriptive sentence underneath: Taiwan Dinkey Railway Bento. I have no idea what "dinkey" means, but my attention was drawn to the word "bentō" 弁当 (I've anally retentively added the macron), which is Japanese for "single-portion takeout or home-packed meal(s) common in Japanese cuisine" (according to the Wikipedia entry). Bentos were introduced in Taiwan during the Japanese period 台灣日治時期, and have been popular ever since. In Mandarin they are called "Pientang" 便當, while the Taiwanese word for them, Bendong, was derived directly from the Japanese. Boo-Boo specializes in a popular variant known in Japanese as ekiben 駅弁, which can be found in train stations all over Japan. In Taiwan, the most well-known ekiben are those which are sold in Fench'ihu 奮起湖, a midpoint outpost along the Alishan Forest Railway 阿里山森林鐵路. 

Things I tend to notice...

...because other people have more important things to do with their lives.

The above chicken restaurant in K'enting 墾丁 has a Japanese name. This in itself isn't all that unusual in Taiwan, as anyone who has read my other blog, Sponge Bear could wearily tell you. What's different here is that the name isn't really Japanese. Kamban かんばん is merely the phonetic rendering of the establishment's Mandarin Chinese moniker K'angpang 扛棒, which means "Carry the stick" (at least according to Google Translate). The actual Japanese rendering of the characters doesn't compute, as my main reference sources can't recognize the first one, 扛. 

I was walking down the street somewhere in the northern area of T'aichung 台中 this evening when I came upon this site. Is there anyone who could explain to me why a piece of heavy construction equipment in a central Taiwanese city would be emblazoned (boldly, proudly) with the name of a Japanese professional baseball team, the Hanshin Tigers 阪神タイガーズ?

Dance for me, Monkey Boy

I went for a hike on the No. 1 Trail in the Tak'eng 大坑 area on Tuesday, and had the pleasure of seeing at least three Formosan Rock Macaques (Tái​wān mí​hóu) 台灣獼猴 cavorting among the treetops. They were too far away for me to get any decent photos or videos, but I did give it a try:

I also came across a couple of magnificent snakes. One was a very long brown beauty that was slithering off into the underbrush as I was making my way up the mountain. Unfortunately, it moved too quickly for me to get a picture. The other one wasn't as impressive physically, but was more cooperative when it came to photographing and filming:

Something that wasn't as pleasurable was having to read this article in the Taipei Times on Saturday. As Michael Turton points out in The View from Taiwan:

"The yammerhead who got in a pissing contest over a 25 NT towel (for pete's sake) may end up causing trouble for other foreigners. Foreigners need to remember: you might not think you're part of a community, but the Taiwanese will treat you that way."

That's Asia for you. You're constantly being reminded of how different you are...until a problem arises, and then you're part of the team (of course, nobody remembered to inform you of the rules of the game beforehand).

However, there are several things about this story that bother me other than the fact that some idiot blew a gasket over something trivial as a towel, and forgot the old adage about being an ambassador abroad. Namely, that:

1.) Why is this even a media story in the first place? Would any news outlets have covered this if a foreigner hadn't been involved? I once saw a (Taiwanese) woman going ballistic over NT20 at a bus station, yelling at the top of her lungs and threatening to sue the bus company, before finally getting her way, yet I never saw anything about it in the papers or on TV. Of course, she wasn't allegedly moonlighting as a stripper. At least, not that I know of. Good god, I hope she wasn't, judging from the way she looked;

2.) Why are local politicians getting involved? Elected officials in Taiwan are notorious for fighting and grandstanding, and it's clear in this case that Councilor Hung was relishing the opportunity to get some quality time in the media spotlight. There's a tendency in Taiwan for people to drag local politicians into the smallest of disputes, as I know from personal experience (more on that later);

3.) Hung's involvement in the matter highlights the darker side of the Democratic Progressive Party 民進黨. The DPP may be the morally right party on the issue of Taiwan's identity, but it's also the political organization of choice for the betel-nut chewing, blue truck-driving yahoos of not-so-cosmopolitan Taiwan (every country has its Bubbas). Xenophobia goes down well with this voting bloc;

4.) In all the hubbub over Towelgate, where is "Mr. Eric's" side of the story? Certainly, Councilor Hung didn't bother ascertaining what "Mr. Eric" had to say, but that's understandable as foreigners can't vote (but "Mr. Wu" can). What's harder to digest is why the reporter, Mo Yan-chih, didn't attempt to track down "Mr. Eric" in order to find out what he had to say about the altercation. The Taipei Times may be superior to the China Post, but it has shown a serious lack of professionalism in this case. Assuming the local is right and going to print with the story isn't good journalism;

5.) Finally, there's that line about "not allow(ing)...any acts of disrespect toward Taiwanese". What exactly constitutes "disrespect"? Does that mean that we as foreigners are not supposed to get into any arguments or disputes with locals, lest we cause the latter to "lose face"? I guess we're just supposed to put up and shut up in these situations, otherwise the outraged native will contact his/her local politician, and the whole affair will risk turning into a media circus. It's "dance for me, monkey boy" as parents point out the foreigner to their children as if we were attractions in a zoo. "Disrespect" is a one-way street here.

A few months ago, I was riding on my scooter through a green light at an intersection, when a woman came flying through her red light and hit me. Neither of us was hurt, and both our bikes were undamaged, but I did lose my temper and let loose a few obscenities at the stupid bitch traffic law violator. I thought that was that, but the next thing I knew, I was being summoned to the local police station, and watched helplessly as various relatives (mine and hers) argued over what had happened, while a (you guessed it) local politician tried to settle everyone down.

Things got worse. We ended up in court, as she tried to sue me for damages to her and her scooter, but not before the woman and her gangster-looking fiance tried to shake down my brother-in-law for cash (no dice). Before an arbitrator, the woman tried to claim that I was the one who went through a red light, and not her. Unbeknownst to our heroine, I had a copy of the police report stating that she was the one who had failed to stop at a red traffic signal, and the surveillance camera video footage clearly showing the woman riding past stopped scooters and through the red light, into the intersection and then into me (my light was clearly green in the video). She got nothing.

But here's the kicker. One of her complaints was that I needed to apologize to her for having "failed to respect Taiwanese women". I refused to agree to any settlement until that part of the complaint was removed. I pointed out to the arbitrator that this was a minor traffic accident between two individuals and not an international incident involving overbearing barbarians and helpless Taiwanese virgins. The arbitrator agreed with me and lectured the woman on this matter before she reluctantly agreed to withdraw that part of her complaint.

It was a long, needless hassle over a mere fender bender, but the look on that woman's face as she walked out of the courtroom with nothing to show for her stupidity was almost worth all the trouble.

And for those of you whose reading comprehension skills need polishing, I'm not denying that "Mr. Eric" was a total jerk.

As for Councilor Hung, lets get together sometime so I can really demonstrate to you how a foreigner can show disrespect towards a Taiwanese. I certainly wouldn't mind a free one-way plane ticket back to my home country! :-)

Stop your beaching

This past weekend saw the 100th anniversary celebration of the founding of the Republic of China 中華民國, and I couldn't give a flying f...let's just say I wasn't very interested in the proceedings (besides, the actual hundredth birthday isn't until Jan. 1, 2012). Instead, my wife, daughter and I spent the three-day weekend in one of Taiwan's most overrated tourist destinations, K'enting 墾丁. By "overrated", I'm referring to Kenting's status as a place of seaside fun and not the attractions of the national park, which are worth a visit. As I've bitched about before (see here), this island hasn't developed a beach culture, despite being...well, an island. I haven't been yet to the sands of Southeast Asia, but I have spent time by (and in) the sea in Hawaii and Okinawa 沖縄, and Kenting can't begin to compare with those two places. Nonetheless, we were still able to have fun in the water down at the southern tip of Taiwan, so without further adieu, here are some highlights of our brief stay...

The Japanese dish oden おでん is very popular here, even during the warmer months (most of the year, in other words), which made it a little surprising to see the word misspelled as "oben" おべん at one of the freeway rest areas:

We stayed Saturday and Sunday nights at the Taiwanese version of a pension, a minsu (mín​sù) 民宿. Our guesthouse was located just a very short walk from the beach at Paisha Bay (Bái​shāwān) 白沙灣. Amber really enjoyed the wallpaper, though I don't think I could've taken more than a couple of days of it:

The next morning (Sunday), we headed out to the beach. In many ways, Baisha Bay is the archetypal Taiwanese beach - there were quite a few people on the sand, but only a handful in the water and even fewer actually swimming in it. There were plenty of jet skis and those ridiculous "banana boats", often coming uncomfortably close to the handful of swimmers. Baisha Bay appears to be gaining in popularity, which is unfortunate, as the last thing the nice stretch of sand there needs is to become another Nanwan 南灣. In Baisha Bay's favor, however, are the small reefs just a few meters from the shore, where one can easily spend several hours swimming around, and checking out the marine life among the coral. I know I did. Among the highlights I encountered were a small eel and what was either a large shrimp or a small lobster, the latter hiding in a small hole. Amber was excited as well at being able to see fish in their natural element, and she also enjoyed digging in the sand. Even Pamela, who normally doesn't like being in the water despite the fact she can swim, got into the spirit of things by renting a snorkel and mask, and checking out the reefs:

Amber stands outside our minsu after we had finished swimming. The name of the place was Heiya 黑牙, and our room was only NT2000 ($66/￥5040) a night:

In the afternoon on Sunday, we went for a drive. One of the places we stopped was Shatao Beach 沙島海灘, the sand of which is composed almost entirely of seashells. The beach itself is closed to public access, but there's a small museum nearby:

The thing to do when in Kenting is to check out the glorified night market that is Kenting Town. In fact, many visitors do only that, thus avoiding any contact with the water. Presumably they also try to minimize their exposure to the sun, but fortunately for those white-skin loving Taiwanese, every time I've been to Kenting, it has rained. Every time. This trip was no exception:

Taking a break from the downpour while seriously contemplating being bald as a cue ball over the taste of a papaya milkshake 木瓜牛奶:

Strange Japanese T-shirts could be found in some of the shops, along with the usual English mutations:

Dinner on Sunday was at a restaurant called Chez Papa, which had several Belgian beers on offer. I had this Bruegel, or rather Amber had me order this, because it was an Amber Ale:

Just another quiet evening by the sea in Kenting, listening to the waves lapping...:

Back at Baisha Bay, there was a party going on at the campground by the beach. A band was playing and people were dancing, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. The odd thing was that the crowd was made up almost entirely of Westerners (including the band), which left me feeling oddly uncomfortable. In all my years in Japan, I had never been to a place that was almost exclusively foreign and entirely devoid of Japanese people. And yet here on the dance floor, and in the seating area around it, hardly an Asian face could be seen. Even Amber thought it was a funny sight.

The next morning (Monday), we got up early (6:30), and took another walk down to the beach:

The neighborhood around our minsu in Baisha Bay was still somewhat traditional, though there's no telling how long that will last:

We spent most of Monday morning and afternoon in the Kenting Forest Recreation Area 墾丁森林公園 , where, despite the rainy weather, the views looking down onto the coast were still pretty good:

We spent the time walking along the well-marked trails, and making sure not to step on the local wildlife:

The highlight for me was the view from the observation tower. Though clouded over at times, we could still see the 318 meter-high (1043 feet) mountain Tachienshan 大尖山 . Amber wasn't too happy about the climatic conditions, however:

These land crabs were everywhere:

Other sights to see in the forest included narrow limestone passageways...:

...and hanging banyan trees:

Dad and daughter pose for one last photo before leaving the forest recreation area, and Kenting:

With the exception of the highway running from Kenting to the No. 3 Freeway 國道三號, traffic was relatively light on the trip back to Fengyuan 豐原, surprising considering it was the end of a long holiday weekend. Amber was in good spirits during the long drive back (she has always been a good traveler), and at the Tungshan Service Area 東山服務區, she insisted on having her picture taken with a couple of friends:

Life may not always be a beach in Taiwan, but we had fun in the water this past weekend, and I hope we can do it again sometime soon.