Morakot: The Aftermath

I know this is a bit of a cop out, but I've been pretty busy lately and haven't written about the biggest story about Taiwan so far this year, namely Typhoon Morakot, which hit the island on August 8, or ten days ago.

For me it was just another typhoon, with perhaps the most dangerous thing that happened to me was heavy wind and rain which was hitting me as I went to the video rental store to get some DVDs.

Now it seems everyone is blaming each other for the slow response to mudslides, broken roads, and evacuating people from isolated areas. The media blamed the Taiwanese government. President Ma Ying-jeou blamed the weathermen for not making accurate predictions of the rainfall, which depending on who you ask was between 2.5 and 3 meters in three days (a year's worth of rain). Some people are even calling this the Katrina of Taiwan.

If you want to read a general, bland, and not very interesting but at least informative article which sums up what happened, look here.

On Saturday I got an issue of the local English newspaper, the Taipei Times, and it was full of articles about Morakot. As usual in Taiwanese politics, the articles colorfully describe the antagonism between leaders and the people, like this one and this editorial piece. My favorite line is "In China, officials often overestimate the impact of a disaster to attract greater donations. In Taiwan, officials often underestimate the impact of a disaster to conceal their incompetence."

Hey, maybe this democracy isn't perfect, but at least it's a democracy (with a free press, I might add).

Update:

I just found this link of amazing pics from my friend Bob's Facebook links (thanks Bob). Looking at these pictures, I'm amazed that I'm living so close to the havoc with so little apparent damage around me. I really hope the government will get its ass in gear and help the people down there.

Typhoon Jangmi and the Campus Reporter

Saturday, 1:30pm- It's raining and cloudy again. Another typhoon is on its way. I don't let that stop me, though, and after a bit of walking around the red-brick buildings of National Taiwan Normal University (NTNU), I find the room I'm looking for.
No, this isn't a remedial Chinese class.

Last week, at the NTNU International students' welcome party, I had the pleasure of meeting (and being interviewed by) Jocy, a campus reporter at the school's newspaper, the Campus Reporter. Since I'm interested in exploring journalism as a career, I decided to ask her if there were any opportunities for writing articles at the school.
Jocy, a young college student who speaks excellent English, gave me more than I bargained for.
"Actually we are hiring right now. You should apply!"

A week later, I'm entering a classroom full of Taiwanese college students. Jocy invites me to sit down at the back of the class. This is the 'boot camp' for new campus reporters for, you guessed it, the Campus Reporter. They are giving speeches on how to find stories, how to ask questions, how to write articles. Only problem is, it's all in Chinese.
Occasionally, some students look back and are surprised to find a waiguoren sitting among them. I try to follow the speaker, Ms. Lin, but it's usually way too hard for me and I have to resort to asking Jocy to explain.
Six hours later, after a few short breaks (including a 30-minute bento box break for dinner) and some light conversation, we have to do the first writing exercise: describe today's boot camp. I now know why they called it a boot camp and briefly consider using the word "boring" in my description. But good sense prevails, and I write something along the lines of what I used to write in my former job as a translator for a news company.

"On 27 September 2008, 32 potential campus reporters met for the orientation meeting for the school newspaper."

I continued, listing the things that, as far as I knew, we did that day.
I went to the back of the line, waiting to see what the teacher's response would be (she had gone to a US university, so I figured speaking to her wouldn't be a problem).

When I got there, she asked me to read the thing. After reading half of it she stopped me.
"Too long. And try to write a better lead sentence. Talk about the atmosphere."
Atmosphere? WTF was she talking about?
I went back to my desk and started again. Jocy looked at me.
"Well? What did she say?"
"She said I need to write about atmosphere."
"That's the same thing she said to me!"
I tried to think of something that I had missed the first time. What could I possible write about that I had missed the first time around?
Then it hit me. My style was too dry, too factual. I shouldn't write like for a business newspaper. I needed to get the reader interested.

"'How do you make a compromise between creativity and objective reporting?' was on of the many questions addressed at the orientation meeting for new student reporters of the Campus Reporter."

I came back with a checkmark (which had freaked me out for a second- was this like Japan, where a checkmark means it's bad?) and- relief- the word 'good' written on my paper.
Another hour of talking and you can imagine I was itching to get out of there. I felt like we were having so much training we were going to become world-class reporters right then.
So after 7 hours of someone talking Chinese at me, you can imagine how happy I was to go home.

On the way back, I bought a bunch of supplies to prepare for the typhoon. Important stuff, like water, instant noodles, coffee, chocolate, beer. I've been reading up on typhoons and it seems the last one was small compared to what this one will be like. I can see that, considering it hasn't even hit land yet and there have already been huge downpours and window-rattling wind. After looking at some forums about it, I feel more ready for a typhoon than I've ever been.

And, tomorrow we don't have school!

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).