Storms, viruses, and Taiwanese language

I've been back a few weeks now, and the weather is finally starting to get cooler. That means a bunch of low-pressure cold fronts (read: wind and rain) which, while giving a brief respite to the sweltering heat of the sun, also means that, well, it's getting cooler.

I moved out of Mr. Zhang's apartment and am now occupying a friend's house while he is out of the country. My friend, JR, also lent me his bicycle, and I've started to bike to school and back, which gives me some exercise. This has caused me to get sunburns (and then tans) on my arms and neck (a real farmer's tan), so on Monday I started applying suncream in those areas, as well as my face, before going to school.

As luck would have it, when I got outside there was no sun, only clouds, and to add insult to injury raindrops started coming down. After running back inside to get my rainjacket (for the bike) and umbrella (for walking around), I got on my bike and started pedaling on the side of the street.

I tried to hurry, but still be cautious of the cars and rain. When I got to the bridge I was especially careful, and biked on the sidewalk instead of the road. Still when I got on the other side of the bridge, I went back among the cars and endless scooters which zipped passed me.

When I got to school class had already started. My new class (the new semester started in September) consists of three Koreans, three Japanese, one other American, and one Indonesian. Anyway the teacher was warning us about H1N1, and if we had a fever we should immediately go to a doctor and have it checked out.

I don't know if it was because I was in such a rush to get to school, or if the teacher's words had some effect on me, but it was precisely at this moment that I started to feel queasy. I had difficulty concentrating for the rest of the class and wondered whether I should leave for fear of spreading whatever it was I had (God forbid H1N1).

Later, I went to the school medical center where my temperature and symptoms were checked. Apparently I had a flu, but it wasn't THE flu. Phew.

After I rushed to go to a Taiwanese language class. The auditorium, which held about 400 people, was almost full when I got there, but I spotted a seat next to two Japanese friends, Yusuke and Yoshi. Yoshi is half-Taiwanese, which was great cuz he would correct me on my pronunciation.

A little side note, if you think Chinese sounds hard, you should wrap your head around Taiwanese, a dialect which originates from the Fujianese province which faces Taiwan in mainland China. The Taiwanese dialect has eight tones (compared to Mandarin's four). Unlike Mandarin, those tones can change depending on where the word is in the sentence. Crazy!

In most of these courses, which are mandatory (more on that later), they don't bother too much about the details of the language, and instead just focus on learning everyday phrases (for example to say hello, instead of Ni Hao, you say Li Ho). To my ear it sounds a little like Vietnamese, though I haven't actually asked a Vietnamese person what they think it sounds like.

About the mandatory classes, it's part of the governments scheme to make students go to school more. For a person on a student visa, ten hours of class a week used to be sufficient, but then they said that wasn't enough, so they made it fifteen hours.

Since our school's regular course only has ten hours of class a week, they gave us cards which we have to stamp, and we could choose to go to the library, or watch a video, or go to one of these large language classes (like the Taiwanese language class described earlier).

But when I went to the library in early September, they told me part of my extra hours had to be done by taking the large language classes. I went to Jenny, the English-speaking girl who works at the MTC to ask her the reason behind the new rule.

"Because everyone was filling out their hours by going to the library, and a lot of people don't really study there, so..."

Which led me to another question: "But why do they have the fifteen-hour rule in the first place?"

"They thought student's weren't studying enough, and working illegally and stuff," she said, smiling.

Jenny continued: "Our school is the only school which has kept the two-hour a day class system, which is cheaper for students. So to compensate we have to create other ways to study."

I'm happy that my school is thinking of us, the little guys, who can't afford or don't necessarily want to go to three-hour intensive classes every day. It seems like the government is taking band-aid measures to try to force students to stop working illegally (which they won't, because there will always be a demand). And now they are trying to force us to go to the large language classes. Not that I mind learning a bit of Taiwanese, or anything ;)

The super-futuristic library near my house

Near my house is a really beautiful, fully functional, modern library. The sleek gray building looks like it was designed by some hot-shot international architecture firm. When you walk through the gigantic glass gate surrounding the entrance, a moving LED screen alerts you of news about the library and events around town. Then you enter the lobby, which, though fully staffed, rarely has any lines because you can check out books yourself on special machines. Most people are at computers here, surfing the internet or viewing the library's book collection.

The library would be very good, except for a certain group of people who use the library. They start lining up outside the gate sometime around 7am (the library opens at 9am, I'm not sure exactly what time they start lining up because I don't get up that early on weekends). By the time the doors open, there is a huge line which snakes around the plaza in front of the library.

Students lining up outside the library. This photo was taken at eight in the morning on a Sunday.

I'm talking about students, of course. Which is all well and good-- I have no problem with kids who want to do well on their exams and study. The problem is that by the time I get there (which is usually in the early afternoon) there are literally no seats left. Again, this wouldn't be a problem if the kids were actually studying. But at any given time fully half of the occupied seats are unattended. What most of them do is leave their books at the place, and then go off with their friends to eat/play/chat somewhere outside the library.

Of course, in the West this would never work as people would be afraid of having something stolen and would always be at the desk, save for a bathroom break. But here no one seems to bat an eye.

There is one secret place, though, which I discovered when I first had the problem of searching for a seat. While floors one to four are chock-full of students (and/or their school accessories), the fifth floor is empty like Siberia, with only one or two seats taken (out of about a hundred).

I went to this floor (which to me seemed like the promised land of studying) quite often, until one day one of the staff informed me that I was not allowed to take books from outside to study there. Though I'm not sure exactly what she said, I imagine it was something like this:

"Excuse me sir, do you know you are not supposed to bring outside books into this area of the library?"

[confused expression]"What?"

She replied: "Please take your bag and put it in one of the lockers over there," at which point I took my bag, ambled over to the lockers, fiddled with one of them, then came back to where I was sitting and resumed studying.

I don't really feel bad about doing this because I find it's ridiculous that they have hundreds of perfectly good seats downstairs which could be put to better use. I wish they could have some kind of rule where if they see a place with someone's things unattended for over half an hour, they just confiscate it and let someone else sit there. Till that happens though, I'm going to be sneaking into the hidden library paradise of the fifth floor.

A video tour of the lobby (I was stopped by a guard before I could go further)

Taiwan, one of the last bastions of pro-Americana?

I was walking home from school today, listening to my iPod, when someone tapped me on my shoulder. I looked back to see a Taiwanese man with thick-rimmed glasses smiling back at me.

"Are you a student at Shida?" he asked in Chinese.

"Yes," I replied, somewhat cautiously. He didn't seem ill-willed, just a little nervous and excited at meeting a foreigner.

"Are you American?" he asked.

This last question took me off my guard. What if I said yes? Would this lead to more questions and pestering? It's not that the guy was unfriendly, just that I didn't see why being American should be the basis for meeting someone. So I decided to be French.

"No, I'm French," I said.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am in no way neglecting my American side. It's just that this is not the first time someone has tried to strike up a conversation, or ask me several personal questions in an interview format, just because I'm American.

It's not necessarily a bad thing that some Taiwanese look up to the USA. I met an American at a bar last week who was on vacation here. He said he was thrilled that he would get a positive reaction when he told people he was American, as opposed to when he visited Europe, and people would give him an answer like "Oh, you're alright, even though you're American."

Mind you, playing the French card doesn't always work. Once, in a similar encounter, a man (or should I say kid, as he was fresh out of high-school) wanted to do la bise with me after I told him I was French (and, after I declined, insisted on giving me a hug).

Anyway, after I replied, the man excused himself and said "oh, sorry, I thought you were someone else," and promptly left. I was relieved.

Summer Session- Back To School Blues

Well, after a one-month break from anything remotely resembling studying Chinese, I got back to studying Chinese on Wednesday morning. Early morning, I add. 8AM is a hard time to start class, particularly when you are accustomed to not being awake for at least another two hours.

Since there are not many people who arrive in the beginning of July, I was put in a class which started at the beginning of the regular quarter, in June. When I got there, short of breath from walking quickly to avoid being late, I was met by a tall blond foreigner.

"Are you here for the class with Yan laoshi?" I asked (and may I add that the teacher's name "Yan" is the first character for the word "strict").
"Yes," said the young man.

We entered the empty room and exchanged our attendance papers so we could check we were in the right place. According to the paper, we were. The bell rang. I found out he was a new student at Shida, unlike me who is a returning student. He is a Dutchman who is to start his doctoral studies at Taida in September.

To make a long story short, we went down to the administrative offices, only to find that the classroom had not changed. When we got back, we found the teacher and one student, and slowly students filed in late. I should have known better.

To tell you a bit about the class, there are three Indonesians, one Vietnamese, two Koreans, as well as me and the aforementioned Dutchman.

Anyway, after the initial shock (what? writing test the first day!?), I think I'm getting back into the swing of things. At the same time I'm in a kind of visa limbo as I messed up when I went to Japan and just got a landing visa. I'm also trying to figure out what kind of job I should get. Now that my scholarship is over, I have to find some way to sustain myself.

The end, or a new beginning

You can tell it's the end of a semester at the Mandarin Training Center (MTC) just by looking at the practically empty library. Hallways are no longer filled with voices from all over the world. On Tuesday, the last day of class, two of my classmates were already out of the country (not that many but in a class of eight the difference is felt).

When I arrived in Taiwan, I was shocked to find out that I had to keep an 80% grade point average and a very good attendance record to keep my scholarship money coming in. I vowed to not skip class unless I was seriously ill or had an emergency. I have to say I felt really good on Wednesday when I picked up my report card (which I need to get my new student visa)- a perfect attendance record and grades all above 80%. Neither in high school nor in college did I feel the need to go to class every day or to get very good grades. I guess I'm growing up.

At the same time I did not get very good grades on my TOP test- kind of like a TOEFL for Chinese in Taiwan. I know even though I have studied a lot, I still need to practice more to get really good at Chinese.

That's why I've decided to stay here at least another year- to improve my Chinese and explore more of Taipei, a city brimming with noise and liveliness, and Taiwan, an exotic island with yet-to-be-discovered treasures. Next year will be different- I'll probably be more busy with work. But since I've already gotten over the 'adaptation' stage, I'll also be able to enjoy it more.

Now, in Taipei Taoyuan International Airport, I am about to go back to Japan for a couple of weeks.

Visa

I finish pushing the last set of weights when my phone rings. It's Bob (name changed to protect privacy), my workout partner.

"Where are you?" I ask, noting that he is exactly 47 minutes late.

"My visa extension got refused and I had to go to Hong Kong on a visa run."

OK, that's a good excuse if ever there was one. And he follows this up with:

"Wanna go to lunch?"

"Sure. Meet me in the gym."

Bob, a Canadian, has been in Taiwan eight years, at least some of them illegally. He reminds me a bit of the character Jay in Stephen Clarke's A Year in The Merde, an American who has lived in Paris so long he switches between the two languages unknowingly and has absorbed some of the French customs. Bob is like that. He told me once when he went back to Canada, he was surprised at how many white people there were.

Lately Bob has been trying to live here on a study visa, but as he works (and parties) full-time, he has trouble keeping up with the attendance quotas. That would explain the Hong Kong trip.

I see him coming down the stairs, in his shorts and white t-shirt and bag strapped around his shoulder. He is 30 years old but still exudes a high-school student vibe, talking fast with a giddy smile on his face.

"Come on, let's take my bike."

Having visa problems has not stopped Bob from acquiring all the trappings of a Taipei resident though. And his bike is one of them. We walk out of the air-conditioned gym into a wave of moisture, heat, and cloudy skies. It's the first time I've ever ridden on his bike, an old black Yamaha, and for a minute I feel a little odd getting onto the back of another guy's bike. But this is Taiwan, and nobody would give us a second glance.

"I feel like I'm your bitch," I say.

"Or I'm your bitch, depending on which way you look at it," he replies.

We begin driving and I soon realize this is very different from the scooters I have ridden in Taiwan. It's a black beast which accelerates in short bursts, and though it isn't going much faster than the scooters alongside us, I can feel it has not unleashed all its power.

We speed down a major road, zipping past cars, the wind blowing in my face and the helmet barely staying on my skull. I grip onto the bars behind me but still don't feel quite safe. That's when I start to feel rain drops on my face.

Fortunately, we turn into a smaller street; almost there. Bob races between people and scooters. We pass a wooden sign which says "Bongos".

"That's my friend's restaurant, they make hamburgers and Mexican food. It's doing really well," shouts Bob over the engine and wind. He has been here so long, he seems to know every ex-pat in town.

We stop in front of a restaurant with a middle-eastern theme and get off the bike. As soon as we enter I go to look at the menu. Bob goes to say hi to one of the patrons, another foreigner, tall with brown hair falling over his eyes.

After ordering, I go to where they are talking.

"I dunno what I'm gonna do man, I gotta leave the country and change my name and come back or something."

Apparently Bob isn't the only one with visa problems. The guy, also Canadian, explains that he overstayed his visa after he realized the rules for visas had changed and his papers were not in order.

Originally, hiring foreigners under the table was attractive to employers (especially English schools) because neither party had to pay taxes. Recently though, the government has been cracking down on schools, and so they in turn have been following the rules more strictly.

Back in the middle-eastern restaurant, we order falafel sandwiches and discuss the plight of foreigners. It seems the Taiwanese government makes it difficult for foreigners to stay here. I guess it's normal as they don't want foreigners flooding the country, but it makes life more complicated.

After nine months of no problems (as a scholarship student I got an Alien Resident Card, the much-coveted "Green card" of Taiwan), on May 31 my visa will expire and I will have to find a new one. I'm going to Japan next week and will be able to get a new study visa, but the new one will only last three months, renewable once before I have to leave the country. That's why I'm trying to find a job which will sponsor a work visa for me (valid a year).

My (not so) secret weapon

So it's getting hotter every day. More humid. What this means is, more mosquitoes. You may have read previous posts where I rant about how much I hate mosquitoes.

Well, a while back I decided to get a secret weapon. The mosquitoes cannot see it. It's like an invisible wall which blocks me from them. At night, I can hear them buzzing around me, but this does not bother me for I know I am safe from them. It's a mosquito net!And it means no more bloody mosquito stains on my wall.

The Heat is Back

We had a mild winter, even by Taiwanese standards (it seldom dropped below 10 degrees C). It did feel cold at times though, as there is no central heating and I didn't have any space heaters.

Then, around March, came a few warm spells. It wasn't all good of course, most days were rainy and gray. Lately it's been alternating between rainy and gray, and sunny and mild.

Yesterday for the first time it felt almost... hot. Humid. I didn't need my big blanket anymore. In class we asked the teacher to put on the AC. Girls started wearing short shorts again (yay!)

Today I walked down a street near the night market and saw some cockroaches, trampled, on the ground. There were one or two survivors on the street (and probably 5,000 more wherever they came from).

Surprisingly there haven't been many mosquitoes so far. Knock on wood.

All this means the coming of summer. Sadly I don't think Taiwan has a stable Spring to speak of. It just alternates between too hot and too cold before becoming too hot for good. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little.

This weekend will be my DJ debut in Taiwan as I have been invited to mix at a club by some ex-pat DJs/promoters. It should be fun.

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.

I won the lottery!

Well, kinda. When you walk into a store and buy something, even if you don't want the receipt, the clerk will insist you take it. I asked a Taiwanese friend why and he said every receipt is a lottery ticket. But why? The plot thickens...

My receipts. I didn't notice how many of them were from 7-11 until now.

The government wants to encourage businesses to report all earnings. So to do that, they instituted this scheme where the receipts which businesses print out will be part of a national lottery. That way customers will have a vested interest in getting a printed receipt of their transaction.

The list of winning numbers and the prizes to be had

The 'lottery' runs every two months, and depending on how many numbers on the ticket match the winning numbers, you could win between NT$200 (currently about US$6 or €4.6) and, if you win the 'grand prize', NT$2mn (about US$59,000 or €44,650). Not bad.

Can you spot the winning number?

Well, I just won 200NT. But it was worth saving all those receipts, right?

Christmas?

1:30am I have just turned off the lights and am about to go to sleep. A small but ever-increasing buzzing sound prevents me. I think it will disappear but it continues. When I realize the sound is not a scooter passing by, I turn on the table light, fumble for my glasses and scan the off-white walls for any telltale signs of... Mosquitoes.

They have been in my room all night. I squashed a few before going to sleep, while doing my homework, but there seem to be more. I had put some citronella-scented oil on my body but apparently that does not faze this one.

Now, I can't find it anywhere. I lie back in my bed and try to sit still, using my face as bait to entice it to come closer. When I hear it, I sit up and look around. No sign.

The pattern repeats itself a few times, until I really start to fall asleep waiting for it to come back. I look at my clock. 1:50. I have the option of either a) lighting the citronella incense and smelling up my clothes and room or b) waking up tomorrow morning covered in bites. I choose to light the incense.

When I wake up the next morning, I don't want to get up. Today is Christmas after all. But for all the Christmas lights and brightly colored storefronts, for all the Christmas jingles playing at convenience stores for the past few weeks, there is no vacation called Christmas here.

Culture shock hits hardest on days like these. I try to just forget that it's a holiday but I can't.

I did go to a Christmas party after my class. A party for the campus reporters. They made me sing jingle bells and play secret Santa, and took photos of me eating Kentucky Fried Chicken. I made a mental note to no longer attend school Christmas parties.

The day was grey, and colder than yesterday. After the Christmas party I came home and tried to catch up on sleep, until I heard the buzzing sound of a mosquito which woke me up. So I got up, ate some leftovers and watched a Simpsons rerun on cable TV. Then I did my homework. As day turned to night, it started to get cold.

At least the mosquitoes are gone.

PS The photo shows a racket to kill mosquitoes which my landlord lent me. It uses a small electric shock (he has since taken it back).

Is the cold weird, or is it just me?

It's been raining the past few days. And for the first time, I had to wear a LONG-SLEEVE shirt and pants today. And shoes. It feels so weird, wearing all these clothes. Or is wearing shorts on Halloween and not feeling cold weird? I can't figure it out...

I'm almost at the end of the school quarter and I have to choose a new class. I was thinking of doing the intensive course, which is three hours a day instead of two and goes faster than the regular course. Since my knowledge of Chinese characters and grammar is slightly more advanced than what we're doing now, it may not be that hard. And the intensive class has less students, so it would give me more opportunities to talk. Also, right now I'm on a scholarship, which means I can devote a lot of my energies to studying. Come May, when my scholarship runs out, I'll have to start working to support myself, and will not be able to devote as much time to my Chinese studies.

On the other hand, I'm not exactly the most diligent student, and the increased class time and homework load may be too much for me, even without working.

I think the real reason I want to do it is because I'm kind of annoyed at the fact that after studying for two years in France, my level is equivalent to someone who has been studying here for 8 months (taking into account that those are school years, it means it took the students here about half the time it took me). If I do the intensive course I can catch up to what I feel my level is supposed to be.

But what is my level 'supposed' to be? Since I'm here, and I'm not planning on going back to France anytime soon, I don't have anything to set my standards by. So does it really matter whether I take the intensive course or not?

Drum and Bass, Working-out, Tai Chi

As I said, I'm slowly moving from the whoa-I'm-in-a-new-country stage to the I-live-here-now-what-do-I-do stage. When you reach this stage in a foreign country, I've found the best thing is to meet new people and start new activities.
Last weekend, for example, I went to my first drum and bass event here. It was small, a home-grown scene of expat DJs and MCs with a combination of local and foreign clientele. As it was an old-school Jungle night a lot of classic tracks were played, and the audience, a mix of slightly drunk waiguoren and locals bobbed up and down to the music. It reminded me of some events I have participated in, both in Japan and France. I also got to meet some of the DJs and MCs, like Soul Basic, Mixter-T, and Coffeepot.

Another new thing that I've begun is sports. People who have known me since high school and college will be surprised to find that I am now slightly overweight. OK, not overweight exactly, but I do have a small 'beer belly'. So I've decided to restart working out. On Thursday I went with Raybuo (Chinese name), a Canadian classmate of mine to the school's gym, which cost $500 NT (about EUR 10) per month.

On Monday, I started a Tai Chi class. I spent a while researching the different schools here, and found this one to be steeped in Taoist tradition, which is what I'm looking for. The name of the school translates to 'Hidden Technique,' but ironically it wasn't that hidden, as it has a website and clearly visible sign outside the school.

End of the honeymoon

Yesterday I passed the two-month mark for my stay in Taiwan. I know from living abroad that the two-month mark is important because it’s the end of what I call the ‘honeymoon’ period- the time when everything seems new, exotic, and exciting. It’s also the moment that culture shock- that growing feeling of unease which creeps up on you- is most likely to strike.

On a brighter note, my Chinese skills have also crossed a threshold. I’m able to order simple things in restaurants and cafes without any trouble, and I can understand most of what my teacher says in class. I still have trouble when groups of native speakers have conversations, but that is normal.

Last Friday the scholarship students from Taipei had an orientation in a huge auditorium in the north part of town. We Taiwan Normal University students were sat on the balcony on the fourth floor, probably because we were so numerous. I was talking to Julie, a French girl I know, when Jerome, a Belgian, sat next to me. We started talking.

“Isn’t it weird that so many people are speaking Spanish here?” he asked.

I looked around. It was true that there were many people all around laughing and chatting in Spanish. The scene wasn’t new. In the school where I go, in the library or in the halls, it is common to hear people speaking Spanish. I didn’t think anything of it up until then, since there are many people from all over the world here, and Spanish speakers do tend to speak louder than, say, Asians.

“Isn’t it just because they are talking louder than everyone else?” I asked.

“I don’t know, maybe,” he replied.

Just then two people appeared on the stage, an Asian woman and a slightly taller man. The woman talked.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests…”

It was then that I noticed the dark suits sitting in the front rows.

“I will be your master of ceremonies for today, in English, and this man will be speaking in Spanish,” she motioned to the man.

“How come they don’t have a French master of ceremonies?” asked Jerome, somewhat jokingly.

So apparently there were more Spanish speakers than others. Then, when the first person, the President of our school, came to speak, everything became clear.

“I would like to introduce to you our distinguished guests. The Ambassador of the Marshall Islands, please stand up.”

“The Marshall Islands,” asked Jerome. “Where the hell is that?”

“It’s in the Pacific,” I replied.

The President continued. The Ambassadors of Vanuatu, the Solomon Islands, Belize, Nicaragua, Paraguay, The Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, El Salvador, Burkina Faso, Palau, Nauru, the Gambia, Swaziland, and Malawi were all present. These are the countries which have continued to have diplomatic relations with Taiwan (see Note below), essentially recognizing its status as a country separate from continental China.

I later learned that students from these countries all received extensive scholarships (lasting three to four years) as a token of gratitude from Taiwan- hence the numerous Spanish speakers.

---

Note: Things like this remind me what a unique position Taiwan is in. An island of 22 million, Taiwan is essentially losing a diplomatic cold war against an ever-growing giant. As more and more countries seek to better relations with mainland China in order to increase trade, Taiwan is being alienated, politically at least. Still, since the island has a relatively developed economy, it cannot be completely ignored.

Scooterama

This week (last Wednesday to be exact) my Taiwanese girlfriend Meng Yao came back from Paris. We've spent the last few days together, and she has been showing me around on her scooter (after buying a helmet of course).
Scooters are big in Taiwan, as you can see from this video of morning rush-hour traffic I made within the first few days after arriving in Taipei. One could be forgiven for mistaking such a sight to be an impromptu scooter race.

It is not unusual to see families of four (two young children and their parents) all piled up on a scooter. It's also common to see furniture tied to the back of a scooter. And if you pass by a police station, don't be surprised if you see a row of police scooters neatly lined up on the sidewalk outside, replete with flashing lights.
Taiwan has even made special lanes for scooters on some high volume roads, as well as boxed areas at traffic intersections where scooters go to make left turns (the logic, I imagine, is that it is too dangerous for scooters to turn left in one go). Some people, like my friend Jean-Robert, does not like the phenomenon, calling it an 'infection'. I guess the fact is that there are too many advantages to using a scooter (rapid transit time, doesn't take up much space, efficient engine, etc).

At the same time, this weekend I've just finished the 'boot camp' for new reporters of the Campus newspaper. It was pretty demanding, but now will come the real challenge- writing articles!

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).

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.

Apartment hunting in Taipei (part 1)

On Thursday, I moved into a room near YongAn Market Station, about three stops from where I will go to school (at Shida, or National Taiwan Normal University).
When I went apartment hunting with Oliver (it's the English name of a friend of a friend) last week, we visited many studios around the university, but to no avail. Since I am on a scholarship, I have a pretty tight budget, so when we looked online, we used the filter functions on the internet site www.591.com.tw.
The funny thing was, what looked great on paper was not exactly up to par when we saw it live (on a side note, I'm happy I didn't try to arrange something before coming to Taiwan).
Oliver, a soft-spoken young man with thick black-rimmed glasses and usually wearing a cap of some sort, would bring me to what seemed to be Taipei's hottest new cafes (with wifi de rigeur) and bring his laptop to do some internet searches.
"This one looks good," he'd say, pointing to the many traditional Chinese characters I was still struggling to learn.
"It has internet connection, cable TV, a laundry machine, a double bed, and gas and water is included," he said.
But upon visiting the room we realized that we ignored the fact that the room was about the size of a walk-in closet. The double bed took up three-quarters of the room, and it was fortunate that the television was flat-screen, because otherwise there would be no space between the bed and the wall. On top of that, the window had an amazing view of...another building at arm's length.
To make a long story short, I ended up taking a room in someone's (we'll call him Mr. Zhang) apartment. I really worried about this after moving in as it's the first time I've lived with someone in over 5 years (if you don't include the time I lived with my mom). I worried about it so much, in fact, that I started doubting my decision. Should I have moved into the tiny apartment, that would have been all to myself? Or should I have tried to find some flat mates?

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.

When eggs are broken, make an omelette

My experiences in the past few days have reminded me an important lesson when traveling: whatever can go wrong will go wrong. Sometimes life just throws you some curveballs, and there's nothing you can do but take it with a grain of salt.
For example, the morning of my flight there was a worker's strike at Charles de Gaulle airport leading to a delay of 30 minutes, as it were. I had a connecting flight in Vienna, and despite the kindly German lady sitting next to me who assured me that I would catch the connecting flight (to leave 45 minutes after the ours landed), I couln't help but worry about catching that flight.
Apparently I wasn't the only one; scores of other people had connecting flights too, so when we got to Vienna there were so many people running through the airport (with bags in tow) it kind of looked like an Olympic race (call it the 600-meter Airportathlon). I vowed to come out at the top and overtook one man who was going in my direction. We got to the gate, but alas, too late; the plane had already taken off. Even though I won, I still lost. It turns out we were both going to Taipei. The man and I went to the service counter, where we got tickets for our next flight nine hours later to...Bangkok (no connecting flights).
To make a long story short, my trip ended up taking 29 hours instead of 18, I arrived at my hostel at about 11pm on Tuesday night, and they forgot to send my luggage. I did walk around aimlessly in Vienna for about two hours and ordered some bratwurst ("ah, you meen brAATvoorst," the vendor had said).
Back to the luggage, I just got it back today. I had bought some underwear and socks in the meantime, but you can imagine how stinky (and sticky) my khakis and hawaiian shirt were getting. Oh what a joy to put on a clean t-shirt, some sandals, and shorts! Even though, after about 30 seconds I was sweaty again.
I confirm. It is hot and humid here. All my low-impact rules (try not to use too many plastic bottles, don't use air con) have gone out the window so that I can keep cool. And despite my ex-colleague's (Christine, are you reading this?) concern about old air-conditioner's filters which, according to her, are 'breeding grounds for bacteria,' I'm still using the AC in my room. In the daytime, it's 36 degrees celsius outside (96 degrees fahrenheit in the shade).
For now I'm living in a hostel which somewhat reminds me of the cheap hotel Tony Leung stays at in 2046 (except grimier, and without the hot actresses). I still have a bunch of stuff to do, like register for classes, get a resident card, find an apartment, and stuff... But for now I think I'll just go out and eat some jiaozi (dumplings) at the yeshi (night market). Mmmmm