The wind is howling in Hsinchu. It has been for about a week. 50 kph wind gusts burst through our windows, making the drapes fly around and causing the doors to spontaneously slam shut (at 3 am sometimes). A typhoon "the size of western Europe" tore through the Philippines, and has lingered about in the South China Sea for the last couple days. And while it has made life hard for some, it has made Hsinchu rather enjoyable, aside from all the rain. I enjoyed my day off by drinking tea and coffee and lying in bed, reading about internships and enjoying the breeze whipping through the house and the weird pre/post-storm light coming through the windows (STL people will understand this).
I'm still fighting it here. I haven't resigned to the fact that the culture is different here and that I should just assimilate and learn something new. I seem to be on this one man mission to Americanize everything here so I feel more comfortable. A lot of little things bother me. Here is an example:
We are required to have printer cards at school. You pay 100 NT and get a card to print out papers and copy things, etc. I have been having this problem where I keep accumulating cards with 15-20 NT on them, and they are useless, because all the papers I need to print out are bigger than 20 NT will buy me. I bring this up to the librarian, and in true Taiwanese fashion, she calls a small meeting of a handful of people to discuss how to fix the situation. She returns to me, looking very satisfied, and says "You need to buy a new one". I explain to her that my problem is that I am wasting 20 NT for every card. So a girl leads me to the printer room, looks at the computers, and then at the printers, and says "You need to buy a new one". I am starting to figure out that this is the only English they can say to me. Which irritates me even more. Not that I expect Taiwan to be filled with English speakers, but that in an international college that is vying for the precious American accreditation, NO ONE speaks English in administration, the library, or anywhere else (aside from our department secretary).
So I threw a small hissy-fit, told them I didn't want a new card, and stormed out. As I made it into my building and toward the elevator, the giggling Taiwanese girls in the elevator did another very Taiwanese thing; they started pressing the close button when they saw me coming toward them. As I have mentioned before, the Taiwanese do everything possible to avoid awkward situations, and riding in a elevator with a foreigner definitely qualifies as awkward. I made it to the door with enough time to shove my arms in and rip the elevator open. I am assuming I looked like some crazed, bald, American Hulk or something, cause when I did this, all the girls cowered into the corner of the elevator like scarred little puppies. They remained silent and huddled close until we made it to the 5th floor.
On a happier note, I feel like I can understand a very small, minuscule amount of Mandarin, enough to catch a word here and there on the street and get excited cause I know what it means, or to order coffee AND hand them the correct amount of money. School is going really well and I feel like I finally have the endurance I have been looking for. It's really going to be up to me to challenge myself in grad school here. I could get by quite easily by doing the bare minimum. There is a lot of "suggested assignments" that I could skip and not be penalized for, grade wise. But, I want to make sure I am fully prepared to do my thesis next year and for my job when I graduate, so I have to push myself which is not always easy. It feels a little bit like extended undergrad here, which is disappointing. I was really looking forward to being academically challenged. The possibility is still there, its just not compulsory.
We are finding more places to eat, which is awesome. Leah and I went to "The Mosquito" with some friends last weekend, and we dined on cold beef, ostrich (which was awesome), birthday shrimp, and gambei'd a lot beers. The table next to us was celebrating a birthday, and decided to buy us a large amount of beer. I took one of the bottles (they are like 600ml) over to the table later on to share with them, and it turned into "drunk guy" telling me to tell his wife she was "bullshit!" for agreeing with George Bush. He repeated this a lot, and when I would look at her, she would just shrug. Then I would try to pour a round for the table, and it would end up just being me and this guy, and him telling me that Bush "OK and not OK, but all the time OK? Bullshit!". Eventually I just stood up and said "Ok....Happy Birthday!" and walked away. It was at this time that drunk guy decided I looked like Charles Barkley, and for the rest of the night, I heard "Ba-ka-ree!". I tried to explain to him that Charles Barkley was black, but that just made him say a lot of things in Chinese and then say "Ok BaKaree!". This guy was a jackass. Eventually all the women apologized as they helped him and his friends out.
So I have had these songs in my head that remind me of 2003 when I was at MSU. That was a time of such magnitude that I cannot fully explain it here. But, this song has been in my head all day now, so I will close out with its video. Zia Jian!
Friday, October 22, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Service at it's finest- or addiction at it's worst.
Today I walked into McDonald's for my soda fix. Bottled soda here taste funky- It's missing that bubbly-crack goodness), so I gave up drinking it. I am slightly ashamed to say the Diet Coke is my thing- BUT it's not my fault! I used to work for a family that had Diet Cok stocked in the fridge all the time, so I drank it with food to disguise the taste, then I began to drink it cause it taste good- and that's when the addiction began.
ANYWAY, back to McDonald's. It's literally right next to our building (which doesn't help my problem), and I walked in and waited in line. One of the workers waved me over to an empty register and I walked over and tried to say what I wanted in Chinese. "Nihao!" Large Kul La, Please. She smiles and points to the Coke Zero in her hand that she had already poured for me.
Now American McDonald's, you can learn from this girl.
The End.
ANYWAY, back to McDonald's. It's literally right next to our building (which doesn't help my problem), and I walked in and waited in line. One of the workers waved me over to an empty register and I walked over and tried to say what I wanted in Chinese. "Nihao!" Large Kul La, Please. She smiles and points to the Coke Zero in her hand that she had already poured for me.
Now American McDonald's, you can learn from this girl.
The End.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
American Things = $$$
Today we went to Dunkin Donuts for some birthday coffee and donuts. Mmm! We are saving money til pay-day so we haven't been able to buy a coffee pot and other non-essentials. So this was my birthday splurge.
Dunkin is in the mall where there is a good size grocery store in the basement with lots of American goods. We walked around to see what we could find: a 30$ muffin tin, a box of cheerios for 9$, a jar of peanuts for 9$, Tostitos for 6$ and method laundry detergent for 13$ and a bag of shredded cheese for 6$. So every now and then we'll be making a trip to the American grocery store for a carton of Hagen Daaz ice cream that cost 10 bucks, and we're talking a small carton.
Dunkin is in the mall where there is a good size grocery store in the basement with lots of American goods. We walked around to see what we could find: a 30$ muffin tin, a box of cheerios for 9$, a jar of peanuts for 9$, Tostitos for 6$ and method laundry detergent for 13$ and a bag of shredded cheese for 6$. So every now and then we'll be making a trip to the American grocery store for a carton of Hagen Daaz ice cream that cost 10 bucks, and we're talking a small carton.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Y tu Hsinchu?
I think I often forget that Leah and I take on challenges that people often steer clear of...as if at the beginning I am prepared for the difficulties that lie ahead, but once I get going, I forget, and act all surprised when thing get difficult and irritating. I mean, its the reason most people don't move across the world to live in a different culture. I felt like this when I first moved to D.C. I said so many times "I hate this #$%^&* city!", and then I eventually fell in love with it.
Well, Hsinchu has proven to have its difficulties and obstacles, and I think they get the best of me sometimes. Example 1: Asian people stare. It's just not an impolite thing to do here. So when the foreigner gets on the train, it's totally acceptable to stare at him for like 4 minutes straight, even if he meets your stare back. It's not the American stare but don't stare, and then look away if you get caught. It's unabashed gawking. I had this guy at the grocery store stare at me and turn in a full circle as I walked by. Then I stopped and stared straight back at him...nothing. Just kept looking at me, like I was a giant bald leprechaun or something. So, I raised my arms in frustration and let out a "WHAT????"...still nothing. After a few curse words, he finally looked away. I am not proud that my frustrations got the best of me. I guess I can just start going around saying Ni hao to every on who stares...but, alas I am human.
I got pulled over yesterday. In typical fashion, I got the treatment that "no one gets" and it "surprises everyone". Usually cops are rather helpful to foreigners, and for the most part they just wave you on once they see that you are not Taiwanese. Well, it seems that Billy Badass was on duty yesterday, and he was having none of my turning left on a green light. That's right, I turned left on a green light. You can drive down the wrong side of the road, you bust U turns everywhere, you drive like a complete maniac with 4 children crammed onto a scooter, but you CANNOT turn left on green if you are on a scooter. Fine, whatever, but dude took 40 minutes to write my ticket. He just kept looking at me and screaming in Chinese. When I would tell him, with increasing impatience, granted, that I did not speak Chinese, he would scoff and start yelling some more. Then he'd get out his cell phone, which apparently had 10,000 numbers, cause he would just start scrolling down..beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep for 5 minutes, call someone, look at me, walk around, look at the ticket, scroll, call, repeat. Anytime I'd ask what going on, he'd scoff and turn his back to me. The other cop wrote tickets for 8 people in the time I waited. I finally got my ticket and got to work just in time. I had my boss read the ticket, and it turns out it pretty much a warning. for some reason that made even more mad, and I was a very unpleasant teacher for my first 20 minutes. It didn't help that my student are catatonic in this class, probably due to the fact that they are in school for 10 hours before they get to me. I get a lot of confused stares and refusals to speak. They're good kids though.
In more hilarious news, I met the crazy old guy at the RT Mart. He is awesome. And annoying. And crazy. He is apparently an old teacher from some university around here. According to him I am "Superman" "The most handsome boy ever" "The wealthiest person ever" and Leah is "The Female Jesus" and "like a beautiful baby Asian girl". He then told us how to say thank you in 50 different languages. When we finally politely pulled ourselves away, we realized we forgot some essentials for typhoon preparations (wine and ice cream), so I ran back in. Crazy guy saw me, and started running towards me yelling "Handsome boy! Handsome boy!". I waved and ducked back into the store as quickly as I could.
Well, back to reading, which I am totally slacking on to write this post. I am lacking the endurance to read this much so far...hopefully it develops soon.
Well, Hsinchu has proven to have its difficulties and obstacles, and I think they get the best of me sometimes. Example 1: Asian people stare. It's just not an impolite thing to do here. So when the foreigner gets on the train, it's totally acceptable to stare at him for like 4 minutes straight, even if he meets your stare back. It's not the American stare but don't stare, and then look away if you get caught. It's unabashed gawking. I had this guy at the grocery store stare at me and turn in a full circle as I walked by. Then I stopped and stared straight back at him...nothing. Just kept looking at me, like I was a giant bald leprechaun or something. So, I raised my arms in frustration and let out a "WHAT????"...still nothing. After a few curse words, he finally looked away. I am not proud that my frustrations got the best of me. I guess I can just start going around saying Ni hao to every on who stares...but, alas I am human.
I got pulled over yesterday. In typical fashion, I got the treatment that "no one gets" and it "surprises everyone". Usually cops are rather helpful to foreigners, and for the most part they just wave you on once they see that you are not Taiwanese. Well, it seems that Billy Badass was on duty yesterday, and he was having none of my turning left on a green light. That's right, I turned left on a green light. You can drive down the wrong side of the road, you bust U turns everywhere, you drive like a complete maniac with 4 children crammed onto a scooter, but you CANNOT turn left on green if you are on a scooter. Fine, whatever, but dude took 40 minutes to write my ticket. He just kept looking at me and screaming in Chinese. When I would tell him, with increasing impatience, granted, that I did not speak Chinese, he would scoff and start yelling some more. Then he'd get out his cell phone, which apparently had 10,000 numbers, cause he would just start scrolling down..beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep for 5 minutes, call someone, look at me, walk around, look at the ticket, scroll, call, repeat. Anytime I'd ask what going on, he'd scoff and turn his back to me. The other cop wrote tickets for 8 people in the time I waited. I finally got my ticket and got to work just in time. I had my boss read the ticket, and it turns out it pretty much a warning. for some reason that made even more mad, and I was a very unpleasant teacher for my first 20 minutes. It didn't help that my student are catatonic in this class, probably due to the fact that they are in school for 10 hours before they get to me. I get a lot of confused stares and refusals to speak. They're good kids though.
In more hilarious news, I met the crazy old guy at the RT Mart. He is awesome. And annoying. And crazy. He is apparently an old teacher from some university around here. According to him I am "Superman" "The most handsome boy ever" "The wealthiest person ever" and Leah is "The Female Jesus" and "like a beautiful baby Asian girl". He then told us how to say thank you in 50 different languages. When we finally politely pulled ourselves away, we realized we forgot some essentials for typhoon preparations (wine and ice cream), so I ran back in. Crazy guy saw me, and started running towards me yelling "Handsome boy! Handsome boy!". I waved and ducked back into the store as quickly as I could.
Well, back to reading, which I am totally slacking on to write this post. I am lacking the endurance to read this much so far...hopefully it develops soon.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Train Ride
So, I found this small book I wrote for a project I did in 2009 where I rode the subway and wrote a poem during every stop of the Blue Line in DC. I re-read them tonight, and I thought "I should share this with the masses". I wrote these all in about a minute or two. I still find them humorous. I decided to choose a topic beforehand, so I could write quickly and not be stuck thinking too much. Be forewarned; there is a lot of cursing.
Farragut West
Turkey, I roast you in my oven.
I eat you with potatoes and some fucking corn.
I make gravy of your juice.
McPherson Sq.
Get in my mouth hamburger
Your so delicately mashed
So I can taste your fat and blood
Metro Center
Green Beans are for fags, as my Mother would say
So I chop them small, so I still feel straight when I eat them
Federal Triangle
Pizza.
All communists praise the embalmed corpse of Lenin.
And eat pizza.
But commies use goat cheese.
Not mozzarella.
Smithsonian
C'mon, eat my taco, you silly bitch.
Put hot sauce on that shit.
Lettuce, cheese, fuck yeah.
L'Efant Plaza
I went to France, once.
In my dreams.
I had powdered cakes and watered down wine.
Then and only then was I able to see the French, as before, they were invisible.
Federal Center SW
Oh, cheese, you vile mistress.
I will conquer the Mongols for you.
They are begging for it anyway.
Capitol South
I put NyQuil in my orange juice in the morning so I can live my dreams during work.
Occasionally I drool on the keyboards, but they are shit, anyway.
Eastern Market
Squash, Rhubarb, Cabbage.
These are all things a rich man carries in his knapsack while crossing the great deserts of Arabia.
Potomac Ave.
Little fishes, you have no central nervous system.
Which makes stabbing you with my trident all the less meaningful.
Lie to me, fishes, and scream in pain.
You are delicious fried and dipped in tar-tar sauce.
Stadium Armory
Nachos.
Nachos make a man...a man.
Melted cheese.
Boys cannot handle jalapenos until their balls have dropped and grown large.
Benning Road
Splattered green, flat and explosions on my plate.
Peas...I have vanquished you!!!
Addison Road
Oh, yes, flower up you uppity bloom of cauliflower.
Nourish my body...Great!
I am SO fucking thankful for your vitamins. Hooray.
You snide vegetable, you posh little plant.
Feel good about yourself.
Feel good about stealing jobs from broccoli.
Capitol Heights
What wonders lie stuck to the sides of my old repulsive microwave?
What stories could be told by burnt spaghetti sauce and old Ramen Noodles?
Those few who made the escape, only to perish in the radiated hell of my kitchen appliance.
Morgan Blvd.
Oh, worthless corn.
You do nothing for me.
Our affair was brief.
But you knew it, and so did I.
Now get out.
There is cab fare on the breakfast nook.
LARGO
Little bits of food, I floss you from your temporary home.
I spit you in my drain.
My gums bleed in grief, but are quickly sanitized with Target brand mouthwash and a stern talking to.
Largo (Return)
What magic box can cook my bread so perfectly, to make it so warm that the butter melt immediately?
Toaster, what the fuck would I do without you?
Ignore those who say "Use a broiler".
Broilers are bullshit.
Morgan Blvd (Return)
Refrigerator, you squeaky, clunky, metal, old moldy box.
Keep my ice cream frozen and my Kool-Aid cold, and keep your mouth shut.
Addison Blvd (Return)
I put my stick of butter in you, butter dish.
Hold those melted juices.
Firm them up in the cold, cold refrigerator.
Capitol Heights
Stir, pour, on, off, on, off, on...done.
Blender of breakfast, grind up though naughty strawberries.
Benning Road (Return)
My dull knife.
Cut, cut, cut, cut, fuck, cut, cut, cut, fuck, fuck, cut, shit! shit, damnit! fuck, cut, cut.
Stadium Armory (Return)
How the neighbors will bow when they behold my mighty dishwasher!
8 cycles, and it warms dishes.
Those peasants will beg to wash their dishes in my kitchen, but I will scoff at them.
Scoff, I say!
Potomac Ave
Linoleum
lino
noleu
oleum
leumli
eumli
yumlino
Muelonil
inole
noleum
ole
leumli
eum
um
mue
Capitol South (Return)
Where art thou, magical machines?
Of which dreams, and sliders and 1 chop coleslaws are made?
L'Efant Plaza (Return)
Heated to a mushy texture, your steamy insides scald my mouth!
Your grade D meat churns the acids of my stomach.
But I am drunk, and Hot Pockets are delicious when I am drunk.
Smithsonian (Return)
Given as a wedding gift, you are worthless to me, salad bowl.
You are giant and wooden.
I cannot eat that much salad.
Farragut West
Turkey, I roast you in my oven.
I eat you with potatoes and some fucking corn.
I make gravy of your juice.
McPherson Sq.
Get in my mouth hamburger
Your so delicately mashed
So I can taste your fat and blood
Metro Center
Green Beans are for fags, as my Mother would say
So I chop them small, so I still feel straight when I eat them
Federal Triangle
Pizza.
All communists praise the embalmed corpse of Lenin.
And eat pizza.
But commies use goat cheese.
Not mozzarella.
Smithsonian
C'mon, eat my taco, you silly bitch.
Put hot sauce on that shit.
Lettuce, cheese, fuck yeah.
L'Efant Plaza
I went to France, once.
In my dreams.
I had powdered cakes and watered down wine.
Then and only then was I able to see the French, as before, they were invisible.
Federal Center SW
Oh, cheese, you vile mistress.
I will conquer the Mongols for you.
They are begging for it anyway.
Capitol South
I put NyQuil in my orange juice in the morning so I can live my dreams during work.
Occasionally I drool on the keyboards, but they are shit, anyway.
Eastern Market
Squash, Rhubarb, Cabbage.
These are all things a rich man carries in his knapsack while crossing the great deserts of Arabia.
Potomac Ave.
Little fishes, you have no central nervous system.
Which makes stabbing you with my trident all the less meaningful.
Lie to me, fishes, and scream in pain.
You are delicious fried and dipped in tar-tar sauce.
Stadium Armory
Nachos.
Nachos make a man...a man.
Melted cheese.
Boys cannot handle jalapenos until their balls have dropped and grown large.
Benning Road
Splattered green, flat and explosions on my plate.
Peas...I have vanquished you!!!
Addison Road
Oh, yes, flower up you uppity bloom of cauliflower.
Nourish my body...Great!
I am SO fucking thankful for your vitamins. Hooray.
You snide vegetable, you posh little plant.
Feel good about yourself.
Feel good about stealing jobs from broccoli.
Capitol Heights
What wonders lie stuck to the sides of my old repulsive microwave?
What stories could be told by burnt spaghetti sauce and old Ramen Noodles?
Those few who made the escape, only to perish in the radiated hell of my kitchen appliance.
Morgan Blvd.
Oh, worthless corn.
You do nothing for me.
Our affair was brief.
But you knew it, and so did I.
Now get out.
There is cab fare on the breakfast nook.
LARGO
Little bits of food, I floss you from your temporary home.
I spit you in my drain.
My gums bleed in grief, but are quickly sanitized with Target brand mouthwash and a stern talking to.
Largo (Return)
What magic box can cook my bread so perfectly, to make it so warm that the butter melt immediately?
Toaster, what the fuck would I do without you?
Ignore those who say "Use a broiler".
Broilers are bullshit.
Morgan Blvd (Return)
Refrigerator, you squeaky, clunky, metal, old moldy box.
Keep my ice cream frozen and my Kool-Aid cold, and keep your mouth shut.
Addison Blvd (Return)
I put my stick of butter in you, butter dish.
Hold those melted juices.
Firm them up in the cold, cold refrigerator.
Capitol Heights
Stir, pour, on, off, on, off, on...done.
Blender of breakfast, grind up though naughty strawberries.
Benning Road (Return)
My dull knife.
Cut, cut, cut, cut, fuck, cut, cut, cut, fuck, fuck, cut, shit! shit, damnit! fuck, cut, cut.
Stadium Armory (Return)
How the neighbors will bow when they behold my mighty dishwasher!
8 cycles, and it warms dishes.
Those peasants will beg to wash their dishes in my kitchen, but I will scoff at them.
Scoff, I say!
Potomac Ave
Linoleum
lino
noleu
oleum
leumli
eumli
yumlino
Muelonil
inole
noleum
ole
leumli
eum
um
mue
Capitol South (Return)
Where art thou, magical machines?
Of which dreams, and sliders and 1 chop coleslaws are made?
L'Efant Plaza (Return)
Heated to a mushy texture, your steamy insides scald my mouth!
Your grade D meat churns the acids of my stomach.
But I am drunk, and Hot Pockets are delicious when I am drunk.
Smithsonian (Return)
Given as a wedding gift, you are worthless to me, salad bowl.
You are giant and wooden.
I cannot eat that much salad.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Stir Crazy!
I've been in Taiwan almost 2 weeks and still haven't started teaching, which was OK till now. Steve started school today and I'm on my own till he gets back. It would also be nice to be making that money. So my day will be filled with cleaning and settling in to our new place and watching episode after episode of "True Blood".
We also joined a "tennis club". I would describe the court as playing on kitty litter. So maybe I'll go play tennis to get my body moving. I still haven't been able to find Bikram yoga, my favorite way to exercise, but there are many other kinds of yoga here to try.
We also joined a "tennis club". I would describe the court as playing on kitty litter. So maybe I'll go play tennis to get my body moving. I still haven't been able to find Bikram yoga, my favorite way to exercise, but there are many other kinds of yoga here to try.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
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