Strange and exotic fruit

One thing that struck me when I first came to Taiwan was the large amount of fruit available everywhere. If you are feeling too hot after walking in the summer heat, you will no doubt find a stand selling cut fruit to cool you down (served in a small plastic bag with a toothpick). In a night market you can get not just different types of teas but also freshly-made smoothies from whatever fruit are available. And rather than buy fruit in the supermarket, most Taiwanese choose to buy their fruit in shops dedicated to selling just fruit, open 24 hours.

But personally, I don't go out of my way to buy fruit. I buy fruit on my way home at a stand which sells it. I used to buy apples and oranges because I wasn't familiar with the local fruit, till one day they didn't have apples (usually imported from Korea, Japan, or the US).

the fruit stand by my house, here selling mandarin oranges, pineapples, watermelons, etc...

Upon the suggestion of the shop clerk I instead got some bala, as it is known in Taiwanese or, for the rest of us, guava. Guava can be hard like an apple or mushy like a banana, depending on the type and how long you let it ripen. It has hard seeds inside it which you can eat or spit out. Its taste is slightly sour and a little sweet. I wonder why I only had guava juice and never the real fruit before coming to Taiwan.

guava and wax apples

The other day for the first time I bought all local fruit- guava and wax apples. Wax apples have a nice crunchy consistency not unlike a fresh watermelon. The flavor is zesty and sweet.

Taiwan has a large array of fruit you would never find in your standard Western super market: dragon fruit (which taste a little like kiwi fruit), star fruit (looks cool but not my favorite taste), pomelos (a very big citrus fruit), jujubes (looks like a small apple) and more.

For more information on fruit in Taiwan, check out this site, brought to you by the Taiwanese government office in New York.

Typhoon Sinlaku and the barbecue

This weekend was fun, considering there was a typhoon. Most people who haven't experienced a typhoon associate them with massive destruction and/or death, but those are only the ones that make the international headlines. Actually it's more like crappy weather which lasts for three or four days. It alternates between just drizzling, to wind with rainshowers, to heavy rainshowers, to heavy rainshowers with strong wind, to...well, you get the point. Whenever you go outside it's a gamble. You could be strolling around with your umbrella like it was just another rainy day and then bam! the wind suddenly turns into a high-powered mega vaccuum and your umbrella has just become a piece of interestingly-shaped garbage.
Anyway, I awoke Sunday morning to the sounds of wind gusts and rain drops on my window. I went to check the weather forecast because a) a friend had invited me to a barbecue and b) the typhoon could potentially stay another day, in which case I wouldn't have to go to school on Monday. Old Mr. Zhang was cooking in the kitchen, his son Li was watching the news on TV. After being perplexed at all the maps and characters I didn't understand, I asked Li what in the hell was going on outside.
"Well the typhoon is still gonna be here for a day or two. They say it might go and come back. We have a lot of typhoons here"
Talk about strange typhoons. I had experienced my share in Japan, but never one that lasted so long, let alone went away, only to come back.
This afternoon Mr. Hao, a friend of a friend, was having his annual Zhong Qiu Jie (Mid-Autumn festival. Don't ask.) barbecue at his house. I wondered if a typhoon might alter the plan. I called Xiao Yu, the girl who was supposed to pick me up on her scooter, to make sure it was still on.
"Yeah, but I don't pick you up."
Phew, I didn't exactly want to be on the back of a scooter going on a highway during rainfall and gale-force winds. "So what do I do?" I asked, trying to use the most simple, but clear, English possible. "Take MRT to Shilin, and meet Joey there. I give you his...her...phone number."
That was a thing many Taiwanese mixed up. Him and her. You never knew if you were going to meet a guy or a girl, and the name didn't usually help. Fortunately, there weren't too many waiguoren (foreigners) walking around, so more likely they found you before you found them.
So at 4 o'clock, I ended up meeting someone, (a girl btw, whose name was Kenny, not Joe) at the MRT station. Kenny was a short girl dressed up like a punk, with a black baseball cap and a certain amount of piercings, and she was with two other girls. We got in a cab amidst the pouring rain. Apparently Mr. Hao was intent on having his barbecue and a stupid little typhoon wasn't going to stop him. When we got there people were setting up the barbecue on a covered terrace.
Mr. Hao is the boss of Danceworks, a dance production company. He has an athletic build and actively helps out in setting up the barbecue, so he could be mistaken for a worker and not the boss.
Not many people spoke English, which was good for my Chinese, but it did add an extra hurdle to me meeting people (the first one being that I didn't know many people there). In the end though I met some really cool people, and the food was good too. They put whole squids on a stick here and barbecue them, along with slabs of beef, chicken legs, sausages, and shrimp. The one thing that was missing, in my opinion, was beer. I've said this before: the Taiwanese don't seem to drink much alcohol. There were three large bottles, which I shared with two or three other guys, but it wasn't enought to get me hammered or anything (which in retrospect is probably a good thing because I had a test the next morning).

The last week of summer...

This past week was the last week before actually beginning classes. I saw Jean Robert, a class mate and documentary film director, for the last time before he went back to Paris (we had a Japanese style all-you-can-eat hot pot and grill). I went to the government office to sign up for my Alien Registration Card. Mr. Zhang took me to the grocery store (huge, but I couldn't find any canned tomatoes).
On Friday I went to ShiDa, the university I will be going to, for the orientation meeting and to find out my schedule. I managed to arrive at the red-brick building where the meeting took place on time, but I didn't have time to get a coffee before arriving. So you can imagine the headache I had during the whole meeting (OK, I admit, I'm addicted to caffeine.)
After the meeting, which IMO didn't have anything really interesting to say, I went downstairs to get a coffee before getting my schedule and books. I figured by the time I got back upstairs the long line for the schedules would have disappeared.
I ordered a 'bing' (iced) coffee at the small cafe downstairs and sipped it slowly, visualising the receptors in my brain which were firing up after getting a healthy dose of caffeine. Magic.
But when I returned back to the fifth floor, surprise, there was still a super long line which I had to wait in. I saw a guy who looked completely lost, and saw others try to talk to him in English and show him where to go. Still clueless. He fixed his gaze on me and then asked me in French "do you know where I need to go?"
I quickly translated everything the other person had said in English. "Orientation is over there," I said, pointing towards the door.
"Yeah, I bet the orientation is in English too!" He replied.
"And Chinese!" I joked.
That was weird. How did he know I was French?
Anyway, after I finally got my schedule, I went upstairs to get my books. I looked at the paper. Dammit! I start classes at 8:10AM! I'm not sure what my level is but my book says level 3, so it can't be that bad. I mean, I had been worrying that either a) they noticed I had taken two years of university-level Chinese, so would put me in a super difficult class, or b) they noticed how I bombed the evaluation test, and would put me in a beginner's class. But it seems they put me in a class which is not too difficult but still challenging (to be confirmed in the near future).
This weekend I tried to practice some more traditional characters, looked at my textbook a little, and got fed chou (stinky) tofu by Mr. Zhang. I had asked him about the restaurant downstairs, and he said he didn't know if it was any good but that he could make me some. So on Saturday I tried it. The tofu, which looks and smells like a fresh cow patty (OK, actually it only smells like one), doesn't taste so bad, a bit like a spongy fermented cheese.
Today, to return the favor, I made spaghetti bolognese for Mr. Zhang, his son, and his mother (who came over for lunch). We talked in Chinese most of the time, which is good practice for me. I have no idea what the old lady is saying though, she just says stuff to me and laughs. I can't wait to speak Chinese well enough to understand because she seems to be having a hoot.

Apartment hunting in Taipei (part 2)

By Friday afternoon I was basically freaking out. I had agreed to meet Ivy, a Taiwanese friend, at 8pm at Dingxi MRT (metro) station and go to a night market with her. I hadn't signed the contract yet, and my plan was to divert Mr. Zhang, my landlord, from signing the contract for two months, or basically until I could be assured that living at someone else's place was not a problem (and that if it was, I could back out).
The room itself was not a problem. Far from it. It had a view of a park (way better than that studio near Shida), a bathroom with a bathtub, a double bed which didn't take up most of the room, and it was near the national library, where I figured I could get some studying done.
The problem was I would have to live with the landlord. I would have to tip-toe if I came home late at night, I would have to clean up after myself in the kitchen, when he wasn't using the kitchen, of course. And how would I get back home at night, with this being so far from all the bars and clubs (it was a residential area)? And, I later found out that I wasn't just living with him, but his son, one year my senior.
I left the apartment at ten to eight, saying "ni hao" to the friendly concierge. I walked past a restaurant which emitted a seriously bad smell, and couldn't believe people were actually eating there. I walked to the super modern metro, er, MRT station and took the train one stop to meet Ivy.
Ivy is a Taiwanese girl who is about my age and works in sales. I had never actually met her before as we had met online, so I waited around the exit, unsure what she would look like in real life. She would undoubtedly recognize me, the tall waiguoren (foreigner) first.
It was Ivy who found me, and all smiles, led me to the local night market, a hodge-podge of sights (think small stalls selling unnameable chicken parts) and sounds (scooters honking to get past the people).
"I used to live near here, so I know this area very well," said Ivy. Wow, I thought. A local. I hit the jackpot. Immediately I wanted to ask her questions.
"So, did you go out a lot when you were living here?" I asked innocently.
"Yeah, I used to go out in Taipei city," she replied.
"How did you get back home after the MRT was closed?"
"Taxi of course. It costs about 200 NT." About the price of a large dinner.
After passing many stalls we turned into a small restaurant on the side of the street, one of those restaurants where you sit on a counter in front of a grill and the chef cooks in front of you.
After ordering some meat and seafood (and a beer for me), Ivy turned to me and asked how my stay in Taiwan was going so far.
"Well, to be honest I'm running into some problems with apartments. I found one but I'm living with the landlord."
"Living with the landlord? Wow. That's even worse than living with your parents!" she said laughing.
My worst fears, confirmed.
"Did you sign the contract yet?"
"No, I'm supposed to do that tonight. That's why I can't stay that late. I'm thinking of asking him if he can put it off for a while, but not sure if I can do that."
"Maybe you need to negotiate with him."
"Yeah, but he's gonna be with his son. It's like, two against one. It's gonna be difficult."
I know I'm a terrible negotiator. Though Mr. Zhang is a nice man, I could imagine him asking me to either sign the contract, or leave the next morning.
I ordered another beer and looked around. Not a single other person in the place was drinking beer. Some were taking small cups of iced tea from a tap, but that was it.
"Do people drink with their meals here?" I asked.
"Not really, unless it's a business dinner or something," Ivy replied. I was starting to realize that, though there are many similarities with Japan, Taiwan is very different in many ways. If this were Japan, practically every adult male would have beer or some other type of alcohol.
After more conversation, a lot of food, and beer, I realized it was time to go. The moment of truth had arrived. Ivy agreed to walk me to the station.
We walked away from the brightly-lit night market to the MRT. I felt some drops of water on my head.
"Is it raining?"
"No!" Ivy said, laughing. "That's just the drops from the air conditioners above!"
Apparently I had a lot to learn about this new country.
When we arrived at the station I prepared to say goodbye.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"
I looked at her and wondered if it was a sincere proposition.
"No, it's OK, his son will be there. We can talk in English."
"Yeah, but it's gonna be difficult. Two against one," she insisted.
"Okay, yeah, maybe your right."

The three of us sat at the kitchen table (in the end, the son didn't show up), the contract in the middle. The woman spoke for a few minutes in soft tones, and the old man nodded in agreement. He looked me in the eye and said something I didn't understand. I turned to Ivy.
"He says that normally he wouldn't do this, but since you are a foreigner and you don't know many people here, he has agreed to let you stay here for two months without a binding agreement," said Ivy.
I sighed in relief. And pulled out the presents I had bought before leaving France, a pair of shot glasses with Parisian scenes.
"I want to give these to you," I said, handing him the presents. In return, Mr. Zhang took out some fresh beers from the fridge and opened them. At least they sometimes drink here.
"Ganbei!" I said.
"Oh! You shouldn't say that, it means you have to drink the whole thing," said Ivy.

As I walked Ivy back to the MRT station, she said "that was easy, it's basically what I do in my job everyday." (Thank goodness for sales people.)
As we passed the stinky restaurant, I mentioned the smell.
"Oh! That's stinky tofu!" she said.
"Huh? You mean they cook it like that on purpose?"
"Yeah! It's a specialty here in Taiwan. You should try it sometime."

As I said, I have a lot to learn while here in Taiwan.

Taiwanese-style coffee and breakfast

The heat of the sun is already making its presence felt on this sunny morning in Taipei. I'm eating at a restaurant around the corner from my hostel which specializes in breakfast (apparently there are many such restaurants here). I've gotten on pretty good terms with the cook, who takes orders while flipping eggs and pieces of bacon on the grill. She is a short middle-aged woman. I can't see most of her face because it's covered with a hygienic mask, but I imagine by the way her eyes squint that she is smiling when I talk to her. The lady has pretty much figured out how to talk to foreigners with the least amount of stress on either side. This is an example of our conversation (in Chinese, of course).
Me: I want to eat egg.
Her: Egg sandwich? You want bacon?
Me: Correct. (In Chinese you don't say 'yes'. You say correct.)
Her: You drink something?
Me: One cup of coffee.
Her: Hot? Iced?
Me: Iced.
Her: Small? Big?
Me: Big
Her: You eat here?
Me: Correct.
The drink woman brings me a coffee, which is sweet and has some kind of flavored cream. At first this annoyed me (I usually like my coffee black) but now I've grown to like it.