tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36363155078121153202024-03-06T01:38:53.890+08:00Stinking TofuAway in TaipeiLishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-1615159960114574492009-12-22T00:17:00.003+08:002009-12-26T01:01:31.595+08:00Things I will miss, Pt. II<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGazVf37gltQx4xjSIXdkD4l7XPl37OzCgCRqmc3cmHgBnSP6AOQq8rNOZiQw3rOp5XQVcY_SpwZtv21pBAtp1SCxB9vfQstfy0G8tGlgwa62fuu2jy_rjT-__-B7vjql8OId2FPBQiGv/s1600-h/pic+076.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 220px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402139924670889282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGazVf37gltQx4xjSIXdkD4l7XPl37OzCgCRqmc3cmHgBnSP6AOQq8rNOZiQw3rOp5XQVcY_SpwZtv21pBAtp1SCxB9vfQstfy0G8tGlgwa62fuu2jy_rjT-__-B7vjql8OId2FPBQiGv/s200/pic+076.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJuJzd3wMVF3aN-zQT-6RiHiC3NpjtnDvLnzvWeKMzukN7Ge8entt9vhFyHlcFrcO8ZVg1nx3rD2TuZ5cW6SxASavN42u6cHiL8Hl2uPlceHfoMXIcR1KIWsW0wu5L9WLIYsBNiDSWf_xd/s1600-h/pic+065.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 255px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 202px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402139566006725938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJuJzd3wMVF3aN-zQT-6RiHiC3NpjtnDvLnzvWeKMzukN7Ge8entt9vhFyHlcFrcO8ZVg1nx3rD2TuZ5cW6SxASavN42u6cHiL8Hl2uPlceHfoMXIcR1KIWsW0wu5L9WLIYsBNiDSWf_xd/s200/pic+065.jpg" /></a>The bling. On everything.<br />(Yes, that rabbit's ear is pierced.)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYO3oTsKCBBbRHIXl9FVnDG1L_DMuNdymQ-MSB1y6Vy9bExeDEWDBwNXVYOxyYbgyl6iJ-BSuqYIrNwKxMivS5CCftMt2w115ZbVP8gUb77pEJpFrBOJv0YXme0PiLJZO5tIwnXfInVHv6/s1600-h/pic+493.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402147684197973970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYO3oTsKCBBbRHIXl9FVnDG1L_DMuNdymQ-MSB1y6Vy9bExeDEWDBwNXVYOxyYbgyl6iJ-BSuqYIrNwKxMivS5CCftMt2w115ZbVP8gUb77pEJpFrBOJv0YXme0PiLJZO5tIwnXfInVHv6/s400/pic+493.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The exercise machines in the parks.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqMRHTJqcv7Rxe9tVx9LK7qBMTQFxPzVIeLtAzQVvlUGc7JnZON_TXfWP6twCZ75977IyAR86qXsmUFRriB6hOnAFJIvAUNQYIn4S-lPRJ4CL0Is6TA30HkG0b5mVvCj7-HMucZqR8nig/s1600-h/pic+482.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 278px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 381px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402146749524412114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqMRHTJqcv7Rxe9tVx9LK7qBMTQFxPzVIeLtAzQVvlUGc7JnZON_TXfWP6twCZ75977IyAR86qXsmUFRriB6hOnAFJIvAUNQYIn4S-lPRJ4CL0Is6TA30HkG0b5mVvCj7-HMucZqR8nig/s400/pic+482.jpg" /></a>Sunsets at Danshui. The seabirds circling and landing on lolling fishing rods atop narrow boats. The boats cutting across the river like dragon heads on the surface. The black mountain against the plum and navy skyline, city lights sprinkled at its base.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3iGLMJ8Vf6X-dOmYEwTZXW3Y4SCZifNzHjBakMmFqo506nTur8CGdZuHHdpoWS-rpdadjWEGUkDRlYcrGRvqI386E8KYQZyUYypOXBQDsTqNP8BDUlvew25VuKmCdCVwUGsGjx9n7r7t/s1600-h/pic+626.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417933682545597410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3iGLMJ8Vf6X-dOmYEwTZXW3Y4SCZifNzHjBakMmFqo506nTur8CGdZuHHdpoWS-rpdadjWEGUkDRlYcrGRvqI386E8KYQZyUYypOXBQDsTqNP8BDUlvew25VuKmCdCVwUGsGjx9n7r7t/s320/pic+626.jpg" /></a>Their scatological restaurants.<br />Modern Toilet Restaurant has several locations in Taiwan and features toilet seats as chairs and sh*t-shaped lamps. The food, which is served in toilet bowls, (the dreaded)squatties or urinals, is so-so.<br /><p>(I eat a lot of crap so I suppose this isn't a stretch.)</p><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDJNXRW-L7dlquB-_H3dEHMg49suwhlvRRpdt3Sq8SsjV4a6NyLns-TsDCsutlfLjf8UExDYVgg7P8QrbDiTJ15TjqXeQYjJi7ibiCb6rh2954xb3_iQfbrTGiPo8GLzKnYs3s2e_X50Hl/s1600-h/pic+635.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417934722762654098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDJNXRW-L7dlquB-_H3dEHMg49suwhlvRRpdt3Sq8SsjV4a6NyLns-TsDCsutlfLjf8UExDYVgg7P8QrbDiTJ15TjqXeQYjJi7ibiCb6rh2954xb3_iQfbrTGiPo8GLzKnYs3s2e_X50Hl/s400/pic+635.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2bdoAChn8EJW1XHSUwjCZDurzBzEDNnM-PCqm-L9CgMUGwfGo48sWeOZq3HPPfyJV-xv8hSOhzdJkc8L5PvVgq3fvVlPtimpoE4Xhwav-wUqKg0gIeuPkv2teUGaDv2n9oEKx5Ur8xhNA/s1600-h/pic+642.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417935281991256610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2bdoAChn8EJW1XHSUwjCZDurzBzEDNnM-PCqm-L9CgMUGwfGo48sWeOZq3HPPfyJV-xv8hSOhzdJkc8L5PvVgq3fvVlPtimpoE4Xhwav-wUqKg0gIeuPkv2teUGaDv2n9oEKx5Ur8xhNA/s400/pic+642.jpg" /></a></div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-43733280810465246172009-12-02T00:56:00.000+08:002009-12-22T14:10:22.902+08:00My school mates<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmUonG4Mc49LOZKlcuNu7lLvPGMOnzRhXLR3z7obIZdqRSpoaF6H6JN0MxlzyA2rqA7HYb2iuLI16dyI0j8XOYUytMMHiiXI1wYwVo9udZI7Qt8ltB_ALj6fi6oTyvTOkby6FP5FmLZ7q/s1600-h/pic+026.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 395px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 302px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402149617801980354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmUonG4Mc49LOZKlcuNu7lLvPGMOnzRhXLR3z7obIZdqRSpoaF6H6JN0MxlzyA2rqA7HYb2iuLI16dyI0j8XOYUytMMHiiXI1wYwVo9udZI7Qt8ltB_ALj6fi6oTyvTOkby6FP5FmLZ7q/s400/pic+026.jpg" /></a>I will miss my classmates.<br /><br /><div>We have come from all over the world: France, Japan, the U.S., Saint Vincent. Many are scholarship recipients from Spanish-speaking countries, Panama, Nicaragua, because they are among the 22 nations that are Taiwan's official diplomatic allies.</div><br /><div>They have received scholarships to study at a Taiwanese university for five years - the Mandarin Language Center is just their first stop.</div><br /><div>We have been preparing for our final exam, whispering to each other in the library, going out for lunches, grilled cheese sandwiches at <a href="http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/feat/archives/2008/04/25/2003410156">the Toasteria</a> location in Shida, before hitting the listening lab. Fa Bin, a percussionist from Colombia speaks to Gong Zi, a lingerie designer from Japan, in Japanese. Gong Zi speaks to me using the meager Chinese that we have learned.</div><br /><div>The other day, we walked to school after a hearty lunch, singing <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEQRr3I7PhQ">"Liang Zhe Lao Hu"</a> to the tune of Frere Jacques. A Frenchman, two people from Saint Vincent and a Canadian meandering in a sunny alleyway, singing about two deformed tigers. One has no eyes and one has no ears.</div><br /><div>(The only other children's song that I know in Chinese is about an elephant who went to war, armed with a rifle and then ate hot sauce.)</div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-54139749374148838842009-11-27T02:52:00.001+08:002009-12-05T02:55:45.439+08:00Freakishly large mountain friendsI like to make friends in the mountains. All of the bugs here are three times larger, like in Super Mario Bros.'s Giant World. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiky5UtP7_5UK0tWsIgvF6qQwzRh5v6xgRz7lw5npuhEejX6F55hg5OA5bsg3MHzEYK4-kctw20mTyE1spyJOKzQJ_ngP6ohGKwfJqNRFPEMUJ3dx6JHU_MWRAdAY-HTBwLMOVGeeWtWiXf/s1600-h/pic+553.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411455485962585426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiky5UtP7_5UK0tWsIgvF6qQwzRh5v6xgRz7lw5npuhEejX6F55hg5OA5bsg3MHzEYK4-kctw20mTyE1spyJOKzQJ_ngP6ohGKwfJqNRFPEMUJ3dx6JHU_MWRAdAY-HTBwLMOVGeeWtWiXf/s400/pic+553.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0UYZQuGaU2u1BKqy34GMHg4BqRz90MXmHIpGvqlHkg4aJmTohOjZl_2SJd4ik7iApS6iPEg6ZbNOSulJ1weoDpb1XeCNx_-9qbCcdAeFdOmsgSqv3vrm_irRI5bI4ZBrt2k699KuDBmw/s1600/pic+553.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><div>Me high-fiving the biggest daddy longlegs that I've ever seen.</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAXJt4V3Ei0kiCrsQCoBWE_qXLjPeDU5c0NkJw_qgxO3jue-t-2viBWsbPRLff1gCssh8cMLjdXwaQ3u8gAhndtBvXVSPVfjD4lu5zXOVLZzLaGZb2tZ2gkEeAqOrCAetm4ZmqTRU2n1Wh/s1600-h/pic+564.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411455987790965938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAXJt4V3Ei0kiCrsQCoBWE_qXLjPeDU5c0NkJw_qgxO3jue-t-2viBWsbPRLff1gCssh8cMLjdXwaQ3u8gAhndtBvXVSPVfjD4lu5zXOVLZzLaGZb2tZ2gkEeAqOrCAetm4ZmqTRU2n1Wh/s320/pic+564.jpg" /></a>I watch a black butterfly fall and sweep up only to break back a second before flying into a spider web. The web stretches five feet, anchored in four corners to bushes and its creater rests at the centre, plucking the strings with its knobby, twig-like legs, as if playing a harp. I'm as stunned as the butterfly. "That's a big effing spider."</div></div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-2219294383190093262009-11-26T01:30:00.010+08:002009-11-26T02:52:45.882+08:00A trip to Hualien and Taroko Gorge (rated PG-13, contains some adult content)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6I6xIruq8K1ZYNTZejEK8fokwT4cIZy5kY7UcYIbYQYT47WT-nW1L-XH1DtxFmTl90MG6SosR1seHX9kha8E8kWALJ0KMR5qH2vi-ELQIZ7hTyrvFiaa74s0zdnrt2gKDfMfxd7SSvmq/s1600/pic+540.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 383px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 456px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408097230600775090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6I6xIruq8K1ZYNTZejEK8fokwT4cIZy5kY7UcYIbYQYT47WT-nW1L-XH1DtxFmTl90MG6SosR1seHX9kha8E8kWALJ0KMR5qH2vi-ELQIZ7hTyrvFiaa74s0zdnrt2gKDfMfxd7SSvmq/s400/pic+540.jpg" /></a>As we walk under a stone canopy with white hard hats jiggling on our noggins and gravel crunching under our soles, Tina points below to the water that eddies in the gorge.<br />"The water is so blue. I'll bet they came here last night and poured Jell-O mix into the stream."<br />A man in his seventies stands at the edge of a jetty and films the scenery at Taroko Gorge. Green hills and marble-walled cliffs. Black caverns like empty eye-sockets. At the mountain base, the almost ivory stone looks like stretched ligaments, disappearing into the Liwu river.<br />We meet eyes and smile. <em>We will never run out of things that will amaze us, huh?</em><br /><br />We're human so we look and see faces. We see humans. We see living things.<br />Our tour guide shows us the elephant, the alligator - "Don't worry, it's sleeping," she quips, - the Aboriginal head. She even shows us Obama.<br />"I've known this bear for a long time," she says as the bus slows near a protrusion of stone.<br />"I don't even need to go to the Taipei zoo," I tell Tina. "Where's the bear?"<br />"Right there."<br />"I see a rock."<br />Our guide is eager to show us "Mother Nature" - a set of green mountains arranged so that you might imagine that you are looking at a woman, from a gynecologist's point. The woman's bent legs. And the mountain is even peeing a small stream. <em>I wouldn't have seen that. And</em> s<em>eriously, who thought of that?</em><br />"And this," the guide says proudly and shows us a photo of a rock formation, "is Father Nature."<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW0FACGGWGhpITNSwmVoMHMumcRO2bGOVmaC3VsRcaNs5myxfS5IDwWcL49EqryoJPFDUve7fySMdUUQReJPq_e-GiR40lL7adpuDQ62vX7AVikZXBsoq2RyU7S8eZlqgQJ4WmquTlBJP/s1600/pic+538.jpg"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW0FACGGWGhpITNSwmVoMHMumcRO2bGOVmaC3VsRcaNs5myxfS5IDwWcL49EqryoJPFDUve7fySMdUUQReJPq_e-GiR40lL7adpuDQ62vX7AVikZXBsoq2RyU7S8eZlqgQJ4WmquTlBJP/s1600/pic+538.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 416px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 302px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408098125267956114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW0FACGGWGhpITNSwmVoMHMumcRO2bGOVmaC3VsRcaNs5myxfS5IDwWcL49EqryoJPFDUve7fySMdUUQReJPq_e-GiR40lL7adpuDQ62vX7AVikZXBsoq2RyU7S8eZlqgQJ4WmquTlBJP/s400/pic+538.jpg" /></a><br />"Okay," I concede. "I see a penis."Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-58929661642506003492009-11-17T11:52:00.001+08:002009-11-17T21:42:53.132+08:00Drink this and you will be marriage-worthy...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis0W4UQlg3TE4K4924kiRjYVInP45apr-NG2hLQbt9hBEuy0oGnxeqbGIevuzJY2wpkxbR4somPjK8MeZ9drp488ghk2SOYlutHtGR4fnu6WUzbkNiubLNazeoO6IGnftB6TATYcpGgweE/s1600/pic+208.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 425px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 321px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404732562743418994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis0W4UQlg3TE4K4924kiRjYVInP45apr-NG2hLQbt9hBEuy0oGnxeqbGIevuzJY2wpkxbR4somPjK8MeZ9drp488ghk2SOYlutHtGR4fnu6WUzbkNiubLNazeoO6IGnftB6TATYcpGgweE/s400/pic+208.jpg" /></a>As we approach the Taipei Xia-Hai City God Temple, famed for getting worshippers hooked up, Tina says: "The Gods are like, 'You again?' You who cannot find love that lasts. You need to take some lessons.<br /><div>"Usually people pray for love and then they come back here to thank the Gods with biscuits from the wedding. I'm like, 'Hey, remember me from a year ago?'</div><br /><div>"What's up with that?!?"</div><br /><div>I write the names of my best friends on money to burn for the Gods and I pray for decent men.</div><br /><div>Tina and I stand by a chart with statistics on how many worshippers have struck the matrimonial jackpot (in 2008, apparently 9,316 couples got married after praying to the 43-centimetre tall statue of the Matchmaker). We wordlessly sip blessed tea brewed with red dates and Chinese wolfberries. The sign on the dispenser reads: "The tea will make you more attractive and help you get married soon."</div><br /><div>I drink two cups.</div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-31117269908387256402009-11-16T22:34:00.007+08:002009-12-22T14:13:38.784+08:00Eating things to death in Seoul<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404716159136767506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6TWFuzrtTevpfjBv7maMhQgcdLBPQ_whAP8sSRejPtcbjyATJhpYWNDCKgzyf58rUJ8_eI7o3Y6H6BQPGXyoKinTkFdhPgZ4E1WsLPDmQ56JcouAz7TpeJN7xK1xIjrP3tdN_gsz3qkct/s320/pic+306.jpg" />I must admit that my best friend and I are sometimes too eager to prove that we are not girls. Well, we are. But not the eek-a-mouse kind.<br /><div><div></div><br /><div>So we set out this weekend in search of something that we could chew to death.<br /></div><br /><div>Seoul's Noryangjin fish market has plenty of choices. The tanks and buckets on either side of the wet pavement are filled with little eels, medium-sized eels, big eels. Tiny shrimp, the size of pumpkin seeds. Huge prawn, their eyes like black peppercorns. Bloated fish lying on beds of ice, their abdomens unfolded and pointed toward the ceiling lights like a body after an autopsy. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6ITn1MPlqRe4sDYjAuZBH6hfEkr72iVi_HJHfdt49dt7l7ateTmG7AwoHosrDY61SQXFUZf22BmDrxqB5f1VllyBhA0UvH8gl7bQlXJg8nuDDJr6T-fYr5pZ8qfRHfg8fvGE3Y7DTlot/s1600/pic+318.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 262px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404718911029093362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6ITn1MPlqRe4sDYjAuZBH6hfEkr72iVi_HJHfdt49dt7l7ateTmG7AwoHosrDY61SQXFUZf22BmDrxqB5f1VllyBhA0UvH8gl7bQlXJg8nuDDJr6T-fYr5pZ8qfRHfg8fvGE3Y7DTlot/s320/pic+318.jpg" /></a>Gutted fish like fat, grey, leather purses, open, items falling out. A man carefully put live squid into his mouth. He held the creature with his thumb and his index finger and directed it into his mouth like he was eating canapé. A white tentacle hung down his chin like a tendril of mucuous.<br /></div><div>We eventually hid from the cold inside a small restaurant down the street with three tables inside. Two men and a woman were seated at the table furthest from the door. They served us makkoli and banchan and told us to wait.</div><br /><div>Ten minutes later, the woman who runs the eatery came inside. She looked annoyed. When Brandon told her that he wanted to eat octopus alive, miming wrapping the octopus around a chopstick, she made a face.</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkqwpZC2BulVj0sPm52F5UyKQ1kNfm4WdsNz6whDBkzlxM01Wdcf3DUegW6ZnCy6cEaLZ9m_NXTw6yeoG27VIQBLkp6zKI8X-swI6GrN1ic32gnm8iBO7WFkWT2qVVmiD9CAkvIj0dhp50/s1600/pic+327.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404720071655405026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkqwpZC2BulVj0sPm52F5UyKQ1kNfm4WdsNz6whDBkzlxM01Wdcf3DUegW6ZnCy6cEaLZ9m_NXTw6yeoG27VIQBLkp6zKI8X-swI6GrN1ic32gnm8iBO7WFkWT2qVVmiD9CAkvIj0dhp50/s200/pic+327.jpg" /></a>My best friend and I knew the moment we saw the two soft creatures sliding around the plastic bowl that we could not do it. Not because we are girls. But they were so big. Not the baby octopus that my Korean friend Yuni told us to eat. ("Oh my God, we're going to eat babies," my friend had said on the subway.)</div><div></div><div>The woman stuck the chopsticks through its bulbous head, its tentacles clinging to the bowl, to the half empty plastic bottle of makkoli, and thrust it toward Brandon's face. There was a momentary look of panic in his eyes. Maybe the restauranteur was afraid that he would lose his nerve, or maybe that she would lose hers, so she rammed the fist-sized clump of squirming, wet, grey matter into his mouth.</div><div></div><div>"Chew, chew, chew," my friend told Brandon. "Chew, chew, chew."</div><br /><div>He chewed for awhile. "It's been like 10 minutes," my best friend joked.</div><br /><div>"I think I just ate its eyes," he said, once he could. "I just got two crunchy things."</div><br /><div>The woman chopped up the other octopus and tossed the pieces in garlic and oil. The wormy bits wriggled and wriggled on the plate. We ate them with hot sauce and salt but I felt a little like a girl.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz3NHbE8e47BS50ICNiX5t9_jK-HqeqyfgeySTwguC_nEnx3qWBf64z2BbdR4C95ChIYhCrKaIMwrGSp8wsig' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p>Our hero, Brandon.</p><p></p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzIEJ8L8WomqOTfUlrMcQDEWCdNcQDiCTg4RbCKNtWz_4mXySkB5yYibBT2B-S0yg-Sh7aSAycqwMW8mvof5g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><p>What the girls ate. Brandon is still chewing his octopus.</p><p>National Geographic video about eating nakji, click <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwTH7bBgZhM">here</a>.</p><p>Yuni's instructions:</p><p>Go to a big fish market which is Noryangjin Soosan(fish) Sijang(Market) or Garak Sijang, and look for a stall that sells only octopus. They will have small ones.</p><p>1. Pick your octopus. 세발낙지 작은거 (Try to bargain.)</p><p>2. Go to a bistro or a small restaurant in the market. They cook what you purchased in the market for a fee (alcohol is separate). Ask them to cut the head and steam or boil. Rest of the part, u will have as it is: 머리는 삶아주시고 나머지는 통째로 주세요. 자르지 마세요.</p><p>3. Try with vinegarated hot sauce(초고추장) or seasame oil with salt(참기름장).</p></div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-36262670795542461632009-11-11T20:14:00.000+08:002009-11-11T20:26:44.149+08:00I will name it Dumpling<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd9rrIifi03ZeW4qTFOdkzmI0zXGs4W7hsi5YzarAK9UCImpWr9d_pEzkK-cuPxwV6VTFr6rj1uIinZtTkeaDQzpZlPT8XwUXijdoEZdBjevtZ6twTo99fV7MdmCdVo7j0NY3GL8dSZPza/s1600-h/pic+238.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402155647987957794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd9rrIifi03ZeW4qTFOdkzmI0zXGs4W7hsi5YzarAK9UCImpWr9d_pEzkK-cuPxwV6VTFr6rj1uIinZtTkeaDQzpZlPT8XwUXijdoEZdBjevtZ6twTo99fV7MdmCdVo7j0NY3GL8dSZPza/s320/pic+238.jpg" /></a>"You should keep a record of your growing stomach on your blog," Tina says one day while I rub my abdomen. "Every two weeks we'll update it with pictures."<br /><div>"Like a pregnant woman?"<br />"Except that there's no baby. Just Yong Yin's junk."<br />"Hey, hey. Listen. Junk is back here."</div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-44657156961363711162009-11-09T23:18:00.003+08:002009-11-10T03:32:24.794+08:00What the hell am I saying, Pt.III have been thinking lately that I need some tenderness. <div><div>No one likes to hug. No one likes to shake hands. When I hug someone, it is like hugging a mannequin. When I shake someone's hand, it feels like squeezing a limp chicken's foot.</div><div>Instead, the people in this city have shown me genuine kindness. When I could not figure out the non-linear bus route, a girl by the bus stop offered me a ride. When I could not figure out how to order fried chicken, a young couple ordered it and paid for it. I chased them down the street with money and they ran from me, twisting their bodies to swat the air, as if I was a fly. When I did not know if I would like the taste of a bun, the bakery owner gave me one to taste, for free.</div><div>But I am craving palpable kindness. I want to feel pressure. </div><div>This, however, was not what I was talking about:</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HUzOTTjfXUI9-FFC8U4dcBBa7w6Bmfn-6y-cOxzYAoI3Ke97WBWUmrNBOZIQJaKimtlt72GyxVDwNEAMmgf6utI6DTVWUebKBtlzDoYsxXb8PWA9uy5JTZvuIsuDOf7X_dy2QxgkfIIv/s1600-h/pic+032.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402132698302921010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HUzOTTjfXUI9-FFC8U4dcBBa7w6Bmfn-6y-cOxzYAoI3Ke97WBWUmrNBOZIQJaKimtlt72GyxVDwNEAMmgf6utI6DTVWUebKBtlzDoYsxXb8PWA9uy5JTZvuIsuDOf7X_dy2QxgkfIIv/s200/pic+032.jpg" /></a>At the Taipei Fireworks Festival at the Dadaocheng Wharf this weekend, I felt the pressure of hundreds of thousands of people. (Last year's event attracted more than half a million.)</div><div>I tried to leave against the crush of sweaty bodies. We all squashed against each other and swayed together, collectively correcting our balance. There were children at my hip that I could not see. There were dogs in between my legs that I could only feel.</div><div>I have not been this squeezed since I was born.</div><div>I lost my new friend in the all of the pushing and the pressing.</div><div>My new friend, Eddy, had approached me at the wharf, hours prior to the light show when there was room to walk. He did not speak much English. I did not speak much Chinese. But we tried our best.</div><br /><div>Later at Villa with some friends:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_uLFHEg9BZGIusHyL-t9pdJyfmWEGDyT26wt4uF6PSF4kgp0pTZXYzOjHMmBbQQsAWpsuCfUKN1aT8IWrRwfXQmEvTr-zORZu9b4YcQm5BBNAyVJLvS2AJyH04nzlqdrpm39yv_790k8L/s1600-h/pic+028.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402134863901702130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_uLFHEg9BZGIusHyL-t9pdJyfmWEGDyT26wt4uF6PSF4kgp0pTZXYzOjHMmBbQQsAWpsuCfUKN1aT8IWrRwfXQmEvTr-zORZu9b4YcQm5BBNAyVJLvS2AJyH04nzlqdrpm39yv_790k8L/s200/pic+028.jpg" /></a></div><div>"What did you talk about?"<br />"I told him that I liked fireworks."</div><div>"How?"</div><div>"<em>Wo xihuan</em> 'Pow! Pow! Pow!" I said and opened and closed my hands above my head, pumping them like a cheerleader.<br />Tina laughed. "You didn't say, '<em>Da pao</em>' did you?"</div><div>"I don't remember. Why?"</div><div>"<em>Da pao</em> literally means big cannon. It's a slang for sex."<br />"I like sex, sex sex!" Tina said, imitating my cheerleading moves.</div><div>"He was probably there, looking for you all night, waiting for the big bang."</div><div>Tina explained the term to our Taiwanese friends. "The big bang...you know, finish with a bang."</div><div>"In science, the big bang was the start," David said. "English," he said, "is full of paradoxes."</div><div>I have the guy's e-mail address. I could write him to apologize for ditching him but I would not want to give him the wrong idea.</div><div>That is also not the kind of pressure that I am talking about.</div><div></div><div><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyKoaohBN6OBJggh1DWx7wzw9sOxt_rxxnjcMcfTXEoji7OUFX3au6MfR8qW_IV67y9j1KZJyMemLtHSb0WiQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-41200561044986800442009-11-08T23:49:00.000+08:002009-11-09T19:15:45.530+08:00The gun show<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix18CgtzAjFOzJipjgrGc6kjf_2GxFFtWeBLMTrvPB1a5_9pa3TMN5KI04vmjlxTevw2tU9v6x2G-NXnQI18-TsvwE0OoxUVnq2UFjRdpsIhlip2w5As1a6m0CTNgYqd5L1dFZUuTfb1wJ/s1600-h/pic+619.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400308605173480514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix18CgtzAjFOzJipjgrGc6kjf_2GxFFtWeBLMTrvPB1a5_9pa3TMN5KI04vmjlxTevw2tU9v6x2G-NXnQI18-TsvwE0OoxUVnq2UFjRdpsIhlip2w5As1a6m0CTNgYqd5L1dFZUuTfb1wJ/s320/pic+619.jpg" /></a>Tina tells me that I am fortunate to have seen the honour guards marching and lowering the flag at Chiang-kai Shek Memorial Hall or National Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall (the name changes depending on the party in power).<br /><br />The former Democratic Progressive Party government withdrew the guards for a time.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnl7GeZpStnw4XgS7NQ5itFS-uGWb9JwZW_4Ioi1HSgdvsg4Tqkbbt33zycM4XDPa8VvnAUUTEdS3RDcm9Ize7VeOTK_ILSe8uf9Xd2qgIaspcdMxDp_xhHc1j9dP4goaMtXjQ4zgkIt1_/s1600-h/pic+622.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400310205417282562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnl7GeZpStnw4XgS7NQ5itFS-uGWb9JwZW_4Ioi1HSgdvsg4Tqkbbt33zycM4XDPa8VvnAUUTEdS3RDcm9Ize7VeOTK_ILSe8uf9Xd2qgIaspcdMxDp_xhHc1j9dP4goaMtXjQ4zgkIt1_/s320/pic+622.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyEcaaXs7gLLZBWq9eD5FZjXkJgtUuuE4EZ-FcotYjYlXf0lkpugiWpe4MtZZc_NA70OFE9yO0LIvP_cLioVA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>It's only nice to share one's good fortune (rifle drill 5 p.m.).</p>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-4540419653572989492009-11-04T23:32:00.000+08:002009-11-05T01:19:42.182+08:00Because edible underwear is not enoughThis place has candy in the shape of maxi pads but I can't find a drugstore that carries tampons? <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrkptMqqgdVXECmkfeXEChX0XVIKaUdRSLM2KES0UfFmllFzK7lx8XAQcY9LncFcRQ7Fahe1Cr_eF1bfNLcRw_khyphenhyphenjT-zUuzOJVaIODPgh7S5TfGETxGCek3Zws8YDXMoXqy37GRWUKkW/s1600-h/pride+007.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399180620471985666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrkptMqqgdVXECmkfeXEChX0XVIKaUdRSLM2KES0UfFmllFzK7lx8XAQcY9LncFcRQ7Fahe1Cr_eF1bfNLcRw_khyphenhyphenjT-zUuzOJVaIODPgh7S5TfGETxGCek3Zws8YDXMoXqy37GRWUKkW/s400/pride+007.jpg" /></a><br />"Mmm, Sophie did good," I say to Tina. "These are excellent. So soft!"<br />"The marshmallows here are really soft, softer than in Canada."<br />(I spend the following days eating all of the marshmallows I come across in Taipei.)<br /><br /><em>Photo: Imitation sanitary napkins, made out of marshmallows, 322 calories per 100 grams. One package, 95 NTD.</em><br /><br /><em>Translation: Sophie, soft, cotton experience. For all day use, dual colour. Super thick cotton layers.</em><br /><em>Loving passionately hygienic marshmallows. You've never had it this clean!</em>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-87520714284864077982009-11-02T23:06:00.000+08:002009-11-04T02:13:27.096+08:00Animal Kingdom<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisliHLc16NRXOZt-UTPBFa_L8j5-Vo8zdyuFPWe-oWWVpKbZV8KJfExb6znwbj7alauVHiWFY-D5H96t9ehWhBdovIUpDdqkr6m06d0oPB0kERZZmXJS197ku0x46PKMFt2-QzG3I1-QSj/s1600-h/pic+592.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 260px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 361px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399161871422634482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisliHLc16NRXOZt-UTPBFa_L8j5-Vo8zdyuFPWe-oWWVpKbZV8KJfExb6znwbj7alauVHiWFY-D5H96t9ehWhBdovIUpDdqkr6m06d0oPB0kERZZmXJS197ku0x46PKMFt2-QzG3I1-QSj/s400/pic+592.jpg" /></a>Tina and I go back to the Japanese/Taiwanese restaurant on Guiyang Street with the massive sushi.<br />A plate of six is 240 NTD or about $7.<br /><br />The slice of salmon could wrap around the mound of rice twice, being the size of my hand. Tina lifts a piece to her face and I tell her she looks like the Phantom of the Opera.<br /><br />After two pieces, it's kind of disgusting, I tell Tina. "It's just so much flesh," I say. "I feel like that pride of lions that we saw on TV."<br /><br />(On the way back from the Confucius temple last month, Tina and I stopped at an electronics store to watch National Geographic.)<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyS6pEimFKk41ZYW1aidLLuCQq_nxO3-UxspoD-tfLt1ZQtbf2SndD26AShWIUDevkaKGNkwByJRBrFxzhR3w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />A moment later at the resto, Tina and I find something more disgusting. A couple sitting a few tables away floss their teeth. "I tell you, there's no social deviancy in this country. People just break the rules and everyone tolerates it," Tina says.<br />The man leans across the table and flosses his lady's teeth.<br />"We're in a zoo. We're lions. They're monkeys," I say. "Look at them picking at each other."<br />"Don't do that in public," Tina says. "You don't do that. You don't floss. You don't clip your nails on the MRT."<br />The couple leaves and Tina stands. "Where are you going?"<br />She goes to the empty table and returns. "They just left the floss on the table on a napkin," she says. "When I make wontons, I have the decency to take them with me!"<br />(She uses my expression "making wontons" which means filling kleenex with snot.)<br />"Who made you the social police?"<br />"I know that I'm not the social police but sometimes I have the urge to tell people, like that girl sitting with her underwear showing."<br />"I tell people. Once there was a guy on the MRT who had his fly open. I followed him to Taipei Main Station and then tapped him on the shoulder. I pointed at my crotch and mimed pulling up my zipper. He looked at me like I was nuts. Then I gestured at his crotch, which probably made it worse.<br />"When he finally got it, I ran away so he wouldn't be embarrassed."<br />See? We're not all animals. People have feelings.<br /><br /><em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PV-Taydhmjqz8gGbZIs4VI4ew45QwSgFsISIelSNRHUx1fnXEt1TshkG9eSzY2dTkBZ1LmMTVoWVQ_-pSJDcj3cNTaDu4IqQw9mJySVbDyP8xwEfhg349yB_k167o5xVjZNCI_1Y-E0B/s1600-h/pads.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399163952981241522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PV-Taydhmjqz8gGbZIs4VI4ew45QwSgFsISIelSNRHUx1fnXEt1TshkG9eSzY2dTkBZ1LmMTVoWVQ_-pSJDcj3cNTaDu4IqQw9mJySVbDyP8xwEfhg349yB_k167o5xVjZNCI_1Y-E0B/s320/pads.jpg" /></a>A few items that we like to order. The resto (at 116 Guiyang Street, near Kunming Street, a 10-minute walk from Ximen MRT, exit 6) always has a line-up and is sometimes closed on Sundays or Mondays. No English menu is available.</em>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-57124892915052846192009-11-01T19:20:00.000+08:002009-11-02T21:30:17.948+08:00How to lose weight in TaiwanI will try anything once. Within reason. Here are a few culinary delights that require some courage to taste - in most cases, courages that I have yet to call up.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGohM4ckTW77S1WWvvyIbXuneYmK0KHBqBEBTbkI2F0TaTzIL2BkwUSyCH2khCcaJoApEFSQeuFvybvvVk8y8qSzi8qoYNAIs1Axx64Hkifi-A1b9dadwbpvbd_mRcmQ52P0GOgXl9SL2x/s1600-h/pic+002.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390564654887700674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGohM4ckTW77S1WWvvyIbXuneYmK0KHBqBEBTbkI2F0TaTzIL2BkwUSyCH2khCcaJoApEFSQeuFvybvvVk8y8qSzi8qoYNAIs1Axx64Hkifi-A1b9dadwbpvbd_mRcmQ52P0GOgXl9SL2x/s200/pic+002.jpg" /></a>A thousand-year-old egg: I have avoided trying preserved egg in Canada but Tina looked so positively excited about eating the dark, green goo oozing out, I figured, why not?</div></div><br /><div>"Do you taste the urine?" Tina says.<br />"What? No, don't tell me."<br />"Do you taste it?"<br />"No, I have a cold."<br />"My dad said that they used to soak the eggs in horse urine to preserve it. Now they just use chemicals that have similar properties."</div><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399495999977484802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghK_xwA9HqQVlSgwrMmNppHB6tD5TwAFmxIkIzqjbC1BCJ-syiuju45GEeLO-XBgMQ6MCbJ5Y1cULrv3OdwRlwsiGPa_tsNgPfT69osGzPpVKduYwNlQMf9AHYKrY6CT0hDJX2FHgajd5I/s400/pic+001.jpg" /><br /><div>(The fried silk buns at the left of the egg are heavenly. Location: Golden Chicken Garden on Yongkang street, near Ice Monster and Shida University.)<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 216px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 297px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390565421771116322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgySLo66CMvtv2F1jnviAOlmV8cZs5flvrsGopdXvG8kNIgss2Er9qfmJ6I2PpoARXRxA8jyUBP_cTpvF3dexRpL1Ajg1SFu2V8aV6DYnaRmGYv311qFr_kvN1iP7RVD0z1iVxNzQmnon/s200/pic+309.jpg" /></div><div>Fried lizards and crickets: The dinosaur-themed Jurassic Restaurant on Bade Road was mostly empty when we ate there but it was a weeknight; and according to <a href="http://in.reuters.com/article/lifestyleMolt/idINTRE5580P420090609">this recent Reuters story</a>, the place is bumping. I just found it all strange.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7B3ODmzTUlKlVgeStPvJEgCsygJBGI5K-p1BreYyqNCqG2E5jDjtUWfGFPbFsblKG7cev6zga0Qw4LiZhWFQcmmvLfiIp4KfAlfubvNkRMB0HEYCEj9r4zhFqHA05FD952tzf86og2kXk/s1600-h/pic+091.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 217px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 271px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390567214440544642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7B3ODmzTUlKlVgeStPvJEgCsygJBGI5K-p1BreYyqNCqG2E5jDjtUWfGFPbFsblKG7cev6zga0Qw4LiZhWFQcmmvLfiIp4KfAlfubvNkRMB0HEYCEj9r4zhFqHA05FD952tzf86og2kXk/s200/pic+091.jpg" /></a>Snake, turtles, etc: I found Taipei's infamous Snake Alley or Huaxi Street Night Market (by the Longshan Temple MRT) to be sad and seedy.<br /></div><div>The shaded street is lined with sex shops, massage parlours and restaurants displaying caged snakes and rats. A bowl of snake soup costs 150 NTD or about $5. There was something tragic about seeing a pile of pale, headless, shell-less sea turtles on a counter outside one eatery. On the way out, a man invited us to try a massage with dull meat cleavers.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh93DDR5EOjFQmhk55Xmdc928krzqem_xRPD4tGPCJohvhyteS1g31fzX_ZrfXWmfTu3nZwAyJbNmeKzDolG9dJC2SupxTKaT-J9IjgB8dtnQYd5CUKsatExNS1Ax-0H0T_fnVL8xCmORmI/s1600-h/pic+095.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390570436685118434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh93DDR5EOjFQmhk55Xmdc928krzqem_xRPD4tGPCJohvhyteS1g31fzX_ZrfXWmfTu3nZwAyJbNmeKzDolG9dJC2SupxTKaT-J9IjgB8dtnQYd5CUKsatExNS1Ax-0H0T_fnVL8xCmORmI/s200/pic+095.jpg" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9wtG0qPmrnBXDT9h7om2HfjHSvVMvysGRgpm9c-311MNDPOoHRcxVcQvFQK71VEM1kZ1I1xwf1Aw_1RRw20TCzb3Wiyd9M-hbdg5bFMVJLPAcViVphy28FhO2ieDphM_ya8msBWGfjmY/s1600-h/pic+092.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390569788611078386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9wtG0qPmrnBXDT9h7om2HfjHSvVMvysGRgpm9c-311MNDPOoHRcxVcQvFQK71VEM1kZ1I1xwf1Aw_1RRw20TCzb3Wiyd9M-hbdg5bFMVJLPAcViVphy28FhO2ieDphM_ya8msBWGfjmY/s200/pic+092.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3bRG4tl55ZMraoJjI071inEglVP7OoyJlAA4fpScSHhWeVOYQNckcGoqJK5GUb4DhO4cDRuwonKpZzhJMKk8xballtJ4S2Z0ELQyRadetPo9cvRlHIkdY37cf2NwWOyw1vDD-E6pdEe9/s1600-h/pic+090.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390569222167986930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3bRG4tl55ZMraoJjI071inEglVP7OoyJlAA4fpScSHhWeVOYQNckcGoqJK5GUb4DhO4cDRuwonKpZzhJMKk8xballtJ4S2Z0ELQyRadetPo9cvRlHIkdY37cf2NwWOyw1vDD-E6pdEe9/s200/pic+090.jpg" /></a> </div></div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-85951833105821291952009-11-01T00:01:00.001+08:002009-11-02T00:28:45.329+08:00Gay Pride in Taipei<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399169630018848178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrTHos3CkazULDsnTbzNxg_qhC8mF4nF0YVYZ_enbvQC6DRiLMyXWVE5q5m3_0L01pihbO0BX97-SXHZ3gzbyy8NSgikVCFYRV8XXm6_F4Wv6oOeMBJxyDuNpHIyYgIRAFkaNQgaDZmYm/s400/pic+499.jpg" /> <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3auyoVtIv99ReHBS7iE1NpWQVMBRgaATR0PzRKH6Ltpopxco4SKW1Y8dVXD4fFwrThtYmWdF7l9rMBl3Z6qSkhYioyqt3wO0dNXMwehd6_o9Fi6od8ubFU9NTKAf0cDkfZSh50EJkvji/s1600-h/pic+553.jpg"></a><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sxcbT69lYRaJXeU6j6CCwWH2jC9O_HpgkX31cC_sWf2VAQiwsR83o6JroXr_Yg1GS1qc4RG1XG6ON2LzgYXNabNIycBW8hYQngB58rzzWtdKNRVXMGctH8aeHW3cFS6_ojF88VpjE2Ss/s1600-h/pic+554.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399168862675976210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sxcbT69lYRaJXeU6j6CCwWH2jC9O_HpgkX31cC_sWf2VAQiwsR83o6JroXr_Yg1GS1qc4RG1XG6ON2LzgYXNabNIycBW8hYQngB58rzzWtdKNRVXMGctH8aeHW3cFS6_ojF88VpjE2Ss/s320/pic+554.jpg" /></a>Taipei's pride parade reminded me of Toronto's festival, except that the guys here wear buttless chaps and medical face masks.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Hey, sexiness doesn't negate the need to guard against H1N1.</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGCHaEZdqBHMn49sVBWwCL5Z26C3jabXNwmxrGOZqnO4jNuBFl-l4P_1h0AmZFIS3nir7uXPEt6gUjUaJvGNzH_3R6qY46k5IyqaTtk5gmucDcNWIUBkP4CjqQ9gIhuTMjYAxDKMkgen6/s1600-h/pic+536.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399169093320622002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGCHaEZdqBHMn49sVBWwCL5Z26C3jabXNwmxrGOZqnO4jNuBFl-l4P_1h0AmZFIS3nir7uXPEt6gUjUaJvGNzH_3R6qY46k5IyqaTtk5gmucDcNWIUBkP4CjqQ9gIhuTMjYAxDKMkgen6/s320/pic+536.jpg" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGua8x0Lji7OLyHgT7NRzI3jllGzL53Ja11xCLlFEEUagTjFLgemLV7lWQLlyG8xOUILyi81dtWp9aUPjzxkRTRBgIF_JKmnINaXFqivfsG2-zU-MnsC_oC2yuWQYipHQrmFxYQ7ECq59/s1600-h/pic+504.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399167743958327826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGua8x0Lji7OLyHgT7NRzI3jllGzL53Ja11xCLlFEEUagTjFLgemLV7lWQLlyG8xOUILyi81dtWp9aUPjzxkRTRBgIF_JKmnINaXFqivfsG2-zU-MnsC_oC2yuWQYipHQrmFxYQ7ECq59/s320/pic+504.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xUqrNnjP81JCn1v70F7SgMz1goA9qiQtY-fwuz9U1fvlxFLqqA0B2Rn_-8aU5-4VJWPzb39gPJ2RIQDBcIkOm9BV28rvtbVdNDayFjWJRcx83pgy7Fnp9HYjdrkFUbb9YoX43mZkmSMK/s1600-h/pic+502.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399167964300998002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xUqrNnjP81JCn1v70F7SgMz1goA9qiQtY-fwuz9U1fvlxFLqqA0B2Rn_-8aU5-4VJWPzb39gPJ2RIQDBcIkOm9BV28rvtbVdNDayFjWJRcx83pgy7Fnp9HYjdrkFUbb9YoX43mZkmSMK/s320/pic+502.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivX61iOgaETJHdcvQnOKA7RVH9PmDRpDTUywgAWMdTjHG4DrNE3ehE5scZxucBwlp9SdiorRXm8eHZiwec32yrqEcsl0XmH2Cc042CiRPTTPGBMOJ6xRfy1iYC8icUPGCd4zK-CqGU-og-/s1600-h/pic+547.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399167192120238770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivX61iOgaETJHdcvQnOKA7RVH9PmDRpDTUywgAWMdTjHG4DrNE3ehE5scZxucBwlp9SdiorRXm8eHZiwec32yrqEcsl0XmH2Cc042CiRPTTPGBMOJ6xRfy1iYC8icUPGCd4zK-CqGU-og-/s320/pic+547.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWTIS6j_BMPdIZtY3oG-CfRzQ6LkxNXVesfX-puIuWtkdFsCkYR8699rpcZYvun4-am61RbgoK3mdumqDFjAHPAEIITB4jRsJzRkwSo6ugyitLY8kNb-Puj_ELosBckoAPIDXqacY1tyo/s1600-h/pic+531.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399167453186910738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWTIS6j_BMPdIZtY3oG-CfRzQ6LkxNXVesfX-puIuWtkdFsCkYR8699rpcZYvun4-am61RbgoK3mdumqDFjAHPAEIITB4jRsJzRkwSo6ugyitLY8kNb-Puj_ELosBckoAPIDXqacY1tyo/s320/pic+531.jpg" /></a>After the parade, the crowd of about 25,000 was treated to a performance by <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Rock-In-Hose-Burlesque/71306437999">Rock In Hose</a>, a new burlesque dance troupe in Taipei. I met one of the dancers last week at Roxy 99 because <a href="http://stinkingtofu.blogspot.com/2009/10/english-class-at-roxy.html">Little D</a> was mesmerized by her cleavage.</div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzODpyBhxO-UnzyJr9xUEx4u33UVMDYyll_bHNRly0qQCUCaS0dyzOavXlnoiBUYR0gcLHA3_BWnMouXUNl2A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-36904345892155983642009-10-29T19:34:00.026+08:002009-10-30T00:01:43.640+08:00Stuff I will miss in Taipei...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JycDvfwqmDFsNfu9xNZGLThYrPBPD-OxlnqkHVDatpAZh1iEPiIrnoOChwY2vhPnmU2W0ODQnMoe5ZBh20nViqm_PEpYNS2Cw3pyxwwGDtLaM7tGJfGelkA8I7PS_dQtWxSNAgwXYfTE/s1600-h/pic+412.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 399px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 484px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397984398072052034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JycDvfwqmDFsNfu9xNZGLThYrPBPD-OxlnqkHVDatpAZh1iEPiIrnoOChwY2vhPnmU2W0ODQnMoe5ZBh20nViqm_PEpYNS2Cw3pyxwwGDtLaM7tGJfGelkA8I7PS_dQtWxSNAgwXYfTE/s400/pic+412.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Their chips: Lonely God comes in a delightful rotini form!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PWOQUBijts2my90cektFJ1s_Uqdw6Jpbnrrw_07GZrYEjkx6oJfxSDqlc74i9P0AVsEZvHzPTSeDTnw-lJp-clYGbOPpJTe68Pm8pSM2kRkShSgL7NYkyyBE6_E6i2pqR1UuI0_1aegS/s1600-h/pic+181.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397986000558838514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PWOQUBijts2my90cektFJ1s_Uqdw6Jpbnrrw_07GZrYEjkx6oJfxSDqlc74i9P0AVsEZvHzPTSeDTnw-lJp-clYGbOPpJTe68Pm8pSM2kRkShSgL7NYkyyBE6_E6i2pqR1UuI0_1aegS/s400/pic+181.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Their salesmenship. This man somehow knew that I am disaster prone <em>(at a banquet, I once lit a bread basket on fire during my boss's speech)</em> and was nice enough to assure me that these $3 purses are fire-retardant. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7npNGsHxOh12sZEOIMQdRgu-U25Hq8NCsRzXLbLAJeP7TuqAIjftWKES5ozLgLnwhGXvn0yyZQu2FCW-weTL24ZftPAUiidALrxRotPusC_cb3soH5LRsw9kEBl76Ww9_iZxDTzBRUbIu/s1600-h/cool3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398047030655627074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7npNGsHxOh12sZEOIMQdRgu-U25Hq8NCsRzXLbLAJeP7TuqAIjftWKES5ozLgLnwhGXvn0yyZQu2FCW-weTL24ZftPAUiidALrxRotPusC_cb3soH5LRsw9kEBl76Ww9_iZxDTzBRUbIu/s200/cool3.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Their need to use every space.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 283px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397986551641472258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0YlaHjnK4UKcrnw_Gzw8io416_ShorZUn90ybgdGl8nDb5QJOMlcYec0ds63JLvo_EaCXeN7KpVdMrMZnc49dMjCngZDZogYUORGSJJhfaZy8ItbEIAhHaQ7ygX0flzpMXTl7ugjX2SY5/s320/pic+423.jpg" /><br />Their scatological toys and candies.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tIKOZMq4HDhrNIDP01XWaGobmv1mJ2lzBSbjahS825l0w3H1kiQ-jtw8yMu-iH9RQSMuA8T6uZRbD_FwcVMOZD4y0Nf4qcPRHPqD8DcD0dMZrSl4cLTSSdOIX0K37vFMjTAaypWLordz/s1600-h/pic+080.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 141px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397987510994519042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tIKOZMq4HDhrNIDP01XWaGobmv1mJ2lzBSbjahS825l0w3H1kiQ-jtw8yMu-iH9RQSMuA8T6uZRbD_FwcVMOZD4y0Nf4qcPRHPqD8DcD0dMZrSl4cLTSSdOIX0K37vFMjTAaypWLordz/s320/pic+080.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic50U8-pk-MeU7KMY_JeFneJhZg9-7gubXMH1Tx_CEaO7pVssXxL12u2E6NY7EOiD58vC6GBcDT0nhelBpBos6BvB3rI6yELy8FTXcLMO7qcMLpVcBlw85RjSOmpkxBgvYIM5BGMl42wIV/s1600-h/cool1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 244px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 201px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398049516896757602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic50U8-pk-MeU7KMY_JeFneJhZg9-7gubXMH1Tx_CEaO7pVssXxL12u2E6NY7EOiD58vC6GBcDT0nhelBpBos6BvB3rI6yELy8FTXcLMO7qcMLpVcBlw85RjSOmpkxBgvYIM5BGMl42wIV/s200/cool1.jpg" /></a>Their creative ways of helping the environment: this bag is from 7-Eleven.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4yahZUfBKMS1skUUcTLohcZJbJRSeZdU5P0zS0IyuQuUf37G1gev3d0HQbEfqS8DAKPydXgHf9jqUoxA9gRfhNczao4msoxUV4tTAakp6y2FEX2uGWmBagj4So6OgHmLHDMMoedHw9aY/s1600-h/cool2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398048055213014034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4yahZUfBKMS1skUUcTLohcZJbJRSeZdU5P0zS0IyuQuUf37G1gev3d0HQbEfqS8DAKPydXgHf9jqUoxA9gRfhNczao4msoxUV4tTAakp6y2FEX2uGWmBagj4So6OgHmLHDMMoedHw9aY/s200/cool2.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LaYdtub-o-3CxFw8eOBOl-MQwzr4WVhhASXTe6fKFAmvcTkgaaRrROD-pCSIkEdQxt8Rh9eQKBLp2ziq3KKR3Yxl1UURvSozbcmmzzsMMpADO8JnTpGS1bwlLhbOTPq5nYabxs9bbc8y/s1600-h/pic+016.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398049151128781794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LaYdtub-o-3CxFw8eOBOl-MQwzr4WVhhASXTe6fKFAmvcTkgaaRrROD-pCSIkEdQxt8Rh9eQKBLp2ziq3KKR3Yxl1UURvSozbcmmzzsMMpADO8JnTpGS1bwlLhbOTPq5nYabxs9bbc8y/s200/pic+016.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYO4-N8t4NREjfUUn5vxaCGCz_gr4Ih6zoheaPIAbrX-y_T7ylN-pIjNWsw2-qqshEQFI3-xWxKeD_GmZyAsr6hjHM_B_Rt2lDl0Uqc725Z4Zwlqsn5Rh7DC9TfgtmWCXPKwvN2700e8HO/s1600-h/pic+048.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398048796027609666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYO4-N8t4NREjfUUn5vxaCGCz_gr4Ih6zoheaPIAbrX-y_T7ylN-pIjNWsw2-qqshEQFI3-xWxKeD_GmZyAsr6hjHM_B_Rt2lDl0Uqc725Z4Zwlqsn5Rh7DC9TfgtmWCXPKwvN2700e8HO/s320/pic+048.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Their love of all things that are cute.Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-69905929125031953682009-10-25T15:39:00.002+08:002009-10-30T00:12:48.597+08:00English class at RoxyI was sitting on my couch feeling sorry for myself in a worn t-shirt that Sean lovingly calls "that one with all the f-ing bears on it" when Sandy called at 11:30 p.m. We're going out, she said.<br /><br />When I climbed into her car an hour later, an aspiring actor who she used to manage was sitting in the front seat. He was about 10 years younger than us, wore his hair like the Beatles and was extremely shy to speak. His nick name in English means Little Dollar.<br /><br />Sandy told him that I'm from Winnipeg, you know, where Winnie The Pooh is from.<br /><br />Roxy 99 occupies a square, underground room and looks like a smoky, grimy university pub. Being near Shida university, it was packed with foreigners, dancing around small, round, pub tables. The deejay played songs that were popular when I was in university (made me feel as if I was at Scandals in Winnipeg again): Lou Bega's Mambo No. 5, Nelly's Ride Wit Me, Prodigy's Smack My Bitch Up.<br /><br />"My name is Winnie!" A girl yelled to me over the music. "Like Winnie the Pooh. And I'm chubby like him!"<br />"Hey, I'm from Winnipeg where Winnie the Pooh is from!"<br /><br />I struck up a friendly conversation with another Canadian. He said: "My dad sent me here because he's an asshole. He sent me to the best schools in Canada, like Harvard. You're looking at the cure for cancer right here. You know, the human genome..."<br /><br />He told me that his grandfather, was David Suzuki. (On second reference, David Suzuki was also his great-grandfather.) I kept turning my face away so that he could talk into my ear but he kept craning his neck so that he could talk into my mouth like it was a microphone. Finally, he snapped: "You don't want to listen!"<br /><br />I stared at him, my mouth agape. (It was like that time when I was waiting for a bus in Toronto and a guy came up to me and asked for the time. When I told him, he growled: "Why do you think I care what f-ing time it is?")<br /><br />Little Dollar eventually warmed to me. He taught me how to say some dirty phrases in Japanese and I corrected his grammar when he spoke these phrases in English. I taught him some others, which at first, was hilarious for both of us.<br /><br />But then, for the rest of the night, he practiced them. He would suddenly turn to me and say the phrase, slowly and seriously.<br />"No, preposition then object."<br />If it was right, I would respond: "Duei!"<br /><br />At 4 a.m., we left the bar and the sloppy drunkards inside. Little D said he knew a restaurant that was open at this hour. When we rounded a corner, near Guting MRT, he announced proudly: "McDonald's!"<br /><br />We ordered McMuffins and Sandy ordered a corn soup. Upstairs, more than a dozen people were sleeping at the tables, a casually dressed middle-aged woman, vagrants, university students, drunk clubbers, their heads buried into their arms like it was nap time in kindergarten.<br /><br />As we finished our breakfast, Little D asked me an English question.<br />"It's 'go down on,'" I corrected.Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-90472491623352123392009-10-23T23:14:00.002+08:002009-10-23T23:27:29.371+08:00Winter home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPQJWq7EUJ8V73oZiTnvtPz9yt8yjYYgI07YJR6WoD3YhmPOjoXtRXZJu4oXrvnSUIDkd8AFoANRevJYsKRGxwjABTTF0crodnEK3uzV9RLppczpCCK42Ds5qSbkDv7vgG0du9YZ5zshg/s1600-h/pic+092.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395814513025240882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPQJWq7EUJ8V73oZiTnvtPz9yt8yjYYgI07YJR6WoD3YhmPOjoXtRXZJu4oXrvnSUIDkd8AFoANRevJYsKRGxwjABTTF0crodnEK3uzV9RLppczpCCK42Ds5qSbkDv7vgG0du9YZ5zshg/s200/pic+092.jpg" /></a>I used to walk in slivers of shade made by lamp posts or trees.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Now I wait under awnings, looking up at the droplets that fall in drunken patterns, making it appear as snow. Meanwhile cockroaches scramble up from flooded sewers as worms do from sodden grass in Canada. Except cockroaches snap like firecrackers under your shoe.</div><br /><div>Winter has come to Taipei.</div><br /><div>The city is cool and grey and walking is more bearable as long as you have an umbrella which you can buy for a few dollars on any street corner, in all colours and patterns, with ruches or lace on the edges.<br /></div><div>The journey through my neighbourhood is a comforting routine.</div><br /><div>Before nightfall, everyone is busy. A man marinates steaks in plastic bins. In the stall beside him, the girl behind the fresh lime juice stand with the spiky faux eyelashes and the adorable round face greets me with a nasally, high-pitched, elongated: "Ni hao!" Across the way, four people sit at a table, wrapping light pink minced meat into skins and then rolling the finished balls across the powdered stainless steel.</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XN8KBn4Cc5MR4g3DE5tdWgJ-NJi1RKw6NxD3CeYzDvx1Np3yC7Je6Fj_UlcML1IrDGDTofHHNI72IftSPAlhm1BLNir23zVDYl3-DW7_m2WcfYV_6G5Bzaswo2X9oiP2vjz9O1iVTj-O/s1600-h/pic+275.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395815469331137522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XN8KBn4Cc5MR4g3DE5tdWgJ-NJi1RKw6NxD3CeYzDvx1Np3yC7Je6Fj_UlcML1IrDGDTofHHNI72IftSPAlhm1BLNir23zVDYl3-DW7_m2WcfYV_6G5Bzaswo2X9oiP2vjz9O1iVTj-O/s200/pic+275.jpg" /></a>If it is early evening, I might see a queue of people at a food stall which usually prompts me to line up as well even though I have no idea what we are lining up to eat. But a line-up usually means good food or fresh food. So, when I get to the front, I just point at something.</div><br /><div>At the corner of my street, I wave at Sally, the owner of a refreshingly casual clothing shop; he grins at me with his comic book good looks - his exaggerated, thin features remind me a little of Prince. I always ask him how his day is so much so that sometimes he just says: "Hi! I'm having a good day."</div><br /><div>When I reach my apartment, a white cat with orange and black patches is splayed on my door step but never deigns to acknowledge me. In the afternoons, a woman who lives above me practices opera and her powerful voice echoes through the concrete stairwell.</div><br /><div>I eat the surprise that I ordered over the sink. If I eat at my breakfast bar, I wipe away every last particle. I am not leaving even an edible ion for those critters.</div><div></div><br /><div>There will be no Winter feast at the Liang house.</div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-21078425414029961052009-10-23T03:13:00.005+08:002009-10-23T03:32:24.040+08:00Villa with Sandy and a super-sized martini<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilvVX0qsl4QCU7sQWjWZV7K1FyH3taR_wEZJGQgpw9_XxzBGWrJZyjHAt-yv0xxg9nLV_Hw1HiRtQ_Wg4a2oVH2Wkjzb82iREp9TGja9Zg3BoBGcPKMtjWy4VqMqQivNYZ2wyWPjErR6xc/s1600-h/pic+408.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395508823478955394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilvVX0qsl4QCU7sQWjWZV7K1FyH3taR_wEZJGQgpw9_XxzBGWrJZyjHAt-yv0xxg9nLV_Hw1HiRtQ_Wg4a2oVH2Wkjzb82iREp9TGja9Zg3BoBGcPKMtjWy4VqMqQivNYZ2wyWPjErR6xc/s400/pic+408.jpg" /></a>I relaxed with Sandy at <a href="http://www.thevilla-herbs.com/villa-index.html">The Villa Herbs </a>until 1 a.m. the other night, drinking red wine from Italy and eating cheese with raisins and sugared cashews while talking about how finicky men and women can be.<br /><br /><div></div><div>I tucked my feet under me in a cushy arm chair in the candlelit lounge which makes you feel like you're a guest in someone's well-appointed home.</div><br /><div>Sandy sat on a leather chaise-lounge in a cream-coloured chiffon blouse and skinny jeans, smoking cigarettes that were slim and elegant like she is and blowing smoke out the patio door over a fish pond.</div><br /><div>She said she is looking for a meaningful relationship and will not "have the sexy" with just anyone. But her male friends have told her that she scares Taiwanese men.</div><br /><div>For a moment, I thought of an ideal Asian beauty based on what a Chinese friend recently told me - a soft and subtle woman, a feminine and delicate woman, the kind that you have to lean into to hear her sweet voice - and then I considered Sandy and I and how we explode with laughter, throwing our bodies against our chairs and slapping each other's knees.</div><br /><div>I wondered to myself if we appeared to men in the restaurant as being obnoxious where as, maybe in Canada, we would look like we were fun.</div><br /><div>"I think in another life," Sandy said suddenly, "I was a foreigner." She would date the foreigners in Taipei, the English-language teachers, the Mandarin students, but all they want is "the sexy."</div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJmzizsPF_4dRzREohmG-bs3aq0J5d7Zz_FAj6ZAa-aZiI6AInjiFvZlBqhcgdf9Q3eW304oVynbZAeHbIg2YqjtoLGRiB7tiNroEUoNYYkI9cH5KymxxJxSDUnj2EUoU-Jem88Ol8H7Rn/s1600-h/pic+410.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395509161598999410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJmzizsPF_4dRzREohmG-bs3aq0J5d7Zz_FAj6ZAa-aZiI6AInjiFvZlBqhcgdf9Q3eW304oVynbZAeHbIg2YqjtoLGRiB7tiNroEUoNYYkI9cH5KymxxJxSDUnj2EUoU-Jem88Ol8H7Rn/s200/pic+410.jpg" /></a>Later, a reporter and photographer for a travel magazine asked us to pose with a gargantuan martini.</div><div>Be more happy, the photographer said.</div><div>And I was happy to have a giant glass of free booze but it was hard to smile and sip at the same time; those are completely opposite actions. I'm pretty sure that I was making a chimpanzee face in every shot.</div><br /><div></div><div>Before I left, I promised the bartender that I would e-mail her the recipe for a Caesar.</div><div>"Do people order them often in Canada?" the bartender asked through Sandy.</div><div>"What?!? Restaurants have Caesar specials. And they come with a stalk of celery or olives and sometimes pickled green beans. They are so good."</div><div>Sandy couldn't figure out the translation for clam juice and worchestershire sauce.<br />That's Taipei's only flaw. God, I miss Caesars.</div></div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-80502490382753910412009-10-21T04:36:00.005+08:002009-10-26T02:11:25.176+08:00Orgy of foodIt is so hard to walk anywhere in Taipei without thinking about food and wanting to put something to your lips.<br /><br />The days when I would forget to eat seem so long ago. Now I wander the streets, from school to home, to dance class, to the movies, etc., and I am always caught behind a slow-moving crush of pedestrians on the narrow sidewalks, so soon I am sauntering and have time to admire the glistening pineapple buns and green tea cakes in shop windows. Bakeries are on every block and as I pass the door, I am bathed simultaneously in the aroma and the breeze from the air-conditioning.<br /><br />When I leave my apartment, I step into the Shida night market where bells chime from stalls selling doughnuts and you can hear the sizzle of steak and eggs on a hot plate and pretty girls invite you to have a cup of cold tea with little kumquat halves floating in it. Everyone around you is skewering battered chicken or fish balls out of a paper bag or holding a crepe like it is a fan.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJdKhE9NINEMC6rX9D5N-I1l6zgrgFPo4bH2XoC8imta-oeOh4GcJyg1PgH7FBD3uZGxsxDJ_jM4f9nWB9ZNbmMncJTQrI7V-NfQcD3fpwVsLm9eNHvtjxwMUjk82gimKWqEXp4iJ9KaA/s1600-h/pic+017.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 247px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 342px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390712301535772210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJdKhE9NINEMC6rX9D5N-I1l6zgrgFPo4bH2XoC8imta-oeOh4GcJyg1PgH7FBD3uZGxsxDJ_jM4f9nWB9ZNbmMncJTQrI7V-NfQcD3fpwVsLm9eNHvtjxwMUjk82gimKWqEXp4iJ9KaA/s400/pic+017.jpg" /></a> To the subway, along Shida Road, I pass a man ladling soup from behind a restaurant with a steel counter facing the sidewalk and I hold my breath to avoid smelling the pungent, cloying herb that reminds me of cinnamon. A few minutes further, there's a dessert place (similar to Ice Monster) displaying photos of my favourite cold treat, crushed ice saturated in condensed milk and covered with fresh fruit and sherbet.<br /><em>Treats (pictured) at Ice Monster on Yong Kang Street. (Mangos are out of season in the winter so the Jumbo Mango Dessert is no longer available.)</em><br /><br />I usually linger around Yong Fung Shung, <em>below</em>, tempted by their fresh <em>mantou</em> or steaming buns because when you bite into the smooth, white bread, nothing has ever been softer or warmer or more fulfilling and because eating one feels like you're injesting pureness and perfection.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZmmQEjtcXmZ9fmDVmQmUbikCyUCGQQqlB09rEuBDxEmvLnElryzg5zEzM8h5klalwMQErhajVt2r9vbLCGvffff1feVgX7XcnyXq0wMepXvkXZtPuJCQP_I5fIwLkrt5WkvkmUS_ZN0at/s1600-h/pic+314.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390713368114629698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZmmQEjtcXmZ9fmDVmQmUbikCyUCGQQqlB09rEuBDxEmvLnElryzg5zEzM8h5klalwMQErhajVt2r9vbLCGvffff1feVgX7XcnyXq0wMepXvkXZtPuJCQP_I5fIwLkrt5WkvkmUS_ZN0at/s400/pic+314.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_cso6gsF1swkxlc5rljWuxb3F2m8FHuzDhJF7lk1mb9zTIR-ulzur37S_P99KCpr7Icw4LpJQOuZLQCR0REiaDy-bjDZ51oemqJmmJX0nQ9-55xqlXyDOVfFm0mRAsWw-BSU5HoWpHPQz/s1600-h/pic+080.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394977075426429090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_cso6gsF1swkxlc5rljWuxb3F2m8FHuzDhJF7lk1mb9zTIR-ulzur37S_P99KCpr7Icw4LpJQOuZLQCR0REiaDy-bjDZ51oemqJmmJX0nQ9-55xqlXyDOVfFm0mRAsWw-BSU5HoWpHPQz/s200/pic+080.jpg" /></a>The restaurants here make food so accessible. Sushi Express brings the food to you on a conveyor belt with the convenient price of a $1 per plate. Most restaurants have set meals and pictures or plastic models of the dish in the window.<br /><br />Every day, I am surfeited. I am now also afraid to go for a walk.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYO_TolLkIOxm2RQNTuR2h9vSU6CA1eRF6GE7HK_9ybLA8uugkrV9AvbHhpzIfgl74HR8k22VMYtV8oYItYglhZ7kk1MGJNuAIlkQRL7BSl-o9zb0zzwd6csG2zd868hX0YqVykXKCEk_f/s1600-h/pic+103.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390714579086813922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYO_TolLkIOxm2RQNTuR2h9vSU6CA1eRF6GE7HK_9ybLA8uugkrV9AvbHhpzIfgl74HR8k22VMYtV8oYItYglhZ7kk1MGJNuAIlkQRL7BSl-o9zb0zzwd6csG2zd868hX0YqVykXKCEk_f/s400/pic+103.jpg" /></a>Spicy beef on noodles at a mall food court.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8J6mi_9B5aJGH8MsB8YUl-SFz6uuiB_c32upimwxai7R4zyRvgMj0lUmlNdbEfKV2fumWw-XMUNp3U_YyQ1Vq1iF5Y2i0lUbXAsIg91qswfDiTEupg8GUB1G8HVnv7ONK4NfnVqE0TSRD/s1600-h/pic+268.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390715132248433906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8J6mi_9B5aJGH8MsB8YUl-SFz6uuiB_c32upimwxai7R4zyRvgMj0lUmlNdbEfKV2fumWw-XMUNp3U_YyQ1Vq1iF5Y2i0lUbXAsIg91qswfDiTEupg8GUB1G8HVnv7ONK4NfnVqE0TSRD/s400/pic+268.jpg" /></a> Fried chicken at Shilin Night Market<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMcu2AY49LJ8nAVcWYH_dD9iem_JjPQ0NH_pPZEU-yiP34Gz9_0JYWSEuF3isAga5WbecEr0FBmfdS5sD0Z4kDsBqKu2SVNlAnw1_dL3cAjaPEiZXVjkMongPahSX_uv1gbLLviEUubMBI/s1600-h/pic+043.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390714112742497266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMcu2AY49LJ8nAVcWYH_dD9iem_JjPQ0NH_pPZEU-yiP34Gz9_0JYWSEuF3isAga5WbecEr0FBmfdS5sD0Z4kDsBqKu2SVNlAnw1_dL3cAjaPEiZXVjkMongPahSX_uv1gbLLviEUubMBI/s400/pic+043.jpg" /></a>The fabulous jerky at the Singapore-based <a href="http://www.bch.tw/">Bee Cheng Hiang</a> chain<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJEB9QWJtsmx30TivyUXiiqlJsGc4Yh0LQJ9ObTHT08JHulffNx3nrKfk1iciXk2T-AyWVUY7pAZLH5ZYp6rhACaj-oDmOFRNSS8P3u2WD45EKaQi4YJ9u0dc-HUB6jJ8WYYxZRFQqQIuX/s1600-h/Copy+of+pic.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 112px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394973770753861410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJEB9QWJtsmx30TivyUXiiqlJsGc4Yh0LQJ9ObTHT08JHulffNx3nrKfk1iciXk2T-AyWVUY7pAZLH5ZYp6rhACaj-oDmOFRNSS8P3u2WD45EKaQi4YJ9u0dc-HUB6jJ8WYYxZRFQqQIuX/s200/Copy+of+pic.jpg" /></a>The menu at the World Soybean Milk Magnate with my English annotations.Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-3777734818545055352009-10-19T12:31:00.001+08:002009-10-19T16:58:38.509+08:00Yangming for a day...or two<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbg3cGoh38fc8RNE0lY48o5iGL6iqG2hSAg_pYf7RkLoQYI7G-bDx06c41JZM8cZSbnZKsD7MwnAout9PGwZcZXDlPyN-OdYRWSbCX_8hvFpRDpTLvlaSWLP4w-Xr2hJve17yDk04fO_Jc/s1600-h/pic+375.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394222635158394370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbg3cGoh38fc8RNE0lY48o5iGL6iqG2hSAg_pYf7RkLoQYI7G-bDx06c41JZM8cZSbnZKsD7MwnAout9PGwZcZXDlPyN-OdYRWSbCX_8hvFpRDpTLvlaSWLP4w-Xr2hJve17yDk04fO_Jc/s200/pic+375.jpg" /></a> Tina and I got stuck in the mountains last night.<br />By "stuck," I mean missed the last bus back to the city and decided to stay in a random hotel resort on Mount Yangming with the help of our good friend Visa.<br />We took a bus from Jiantan MRT Station to the Yangming National Park and wandered around, prattling about the beautiful scenery: the betel nut trees that I mistook for palm trees, the mist around the green peaks, the brown hills in the distance that looked like the backs of bison.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2W5-WXKUJ8asEgaxcDh5P_6_M7R8FO8iBJYPub5IEPdm8SwHjrQayABy7NE9C3vkjDiFDEuhwU6kD3QgeWxJnYXSCgZn4Nc3LBOsMQ_E19m2CO0AwyCW8Vc_zfdw-DoC1n01U9DohKgf/s1600-h/pic+305.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394224511562711298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2W5-WXKUJ8asEgaxcDh5P_6_M7R8FO8iBJYPub5IEPdm8SwHjrQayABy7NE9C3vkjDiFDEuhwU6kD3QgeWxJnYXSCgZn4Nc3LBOsMQ_E19m2CO0AwyCW8Vc_zfdw-DoC1n01U9DohKgf/s400/pic+305.jpg" /></a>Off the main road, we descended a steep set of stone stairs, each moss-covered, jagged and cracked. We played under the green canopy and took pictures around a waterfall that fed into a milky, light blue stream. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZP9lNQgD0qi3igGpJ-2GedMMEQCpoXho671jEnZeoO7CS6uQDTduJQkTSlbGF3Bocozs5efSWLSOIFR12a_1NhhddNgj5YWwKVkHtGetyNQeTST-JdB9NmEBJYcsfVMTcu0OZCEM0ZXw0/s1600-h/pic+334.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394225575213551234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZP9lNQgD0qi3igGpJ-2GedMMEQCpoXho671jEnZeoO7CS6uQDTduJQkTSlbGF3Bocozs5efSWLSOIFR12a_1NhhddNgj5YWwKVkHtGetyNQeTST-JdB9NmEBJYcsfVMTcu0OZCEM0ZXw0/s320/pic+334.jpg" /></a><br />"Somewhere around here, Goldilocks is discovering the bears' home."<br />I was posing by the water when a black cat walked across the stream's stepping stones.<br />WTF.<br />"You weren't kidding about seeing lots of black cats in Taiwan," Tina says to me.<br />In Taipei, for me, they have foreshadowed good things.<br /><br />It was twilight when we trekked out of the park, admiring the trees as dark forms against the grey backdrop, like they are in Chinese paintings; but by the time we reached the main road, it was dark and cold and we were tired and hungry and had to pee.<br />A sign at the bus stop invited us to Calla Young Garden Resort for dinner and a dip in their hot spring baths so we accepted the offer.<br /><br />We waited at the road side for 45 minutes before catching a red bus going back up the mountain. Tina had an argument with the driver, none of which I understood except when she declared him to be "an asshole." The bus hurtled along the tortuous roads for another 30 minutes.<br />We got off, nauseous and stressed, in front of the hotel. The perpetual smell of sulphur made me dizzy but it made Tina hungry. "Delicious," she said in the bus.<br />(When she was a girl, the children used to boil eggs in a sulphurous stream in Beitou; the city blocked access to it after a child fell in and was burned.)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tRqxMhFLPwFCpgfz1uIOdvLO8XrfbbBTT48O3EqRroCLgzW1Ws4IBesJDEnxtvHuavF3-VAC34N0U-s9s7nXf5dhKAfmbUBu0zvWZqsF4CEXn0nUrI6l5bOLCB2yeqrf_m4GyaSwbt_l/s1600-h/pic+372.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 224px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394226279291351218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6tRqxMhFLPwFCpgfz1uIOdvLO8XrfbbBTT48O3EqRroCLgzW1Ws4IBesJDEnxtvHuavF3-VAC34N0U-s9s7nXf5dhKAfmbUBu0zvWZqsF4CEXn0nUrI6l5bOLCB2yeqrf_m4GyaSwbt_l/s400/pic+372.jpg" /></a>We did a hot-cold circuit in the resort's hot spring baths which left me exhausted and weak in the knees. One tub had a row of shower heads, which curled like faucets over your head, and were meant to massage you with the water pressure.<br /><br />I tried hose with the lowest pressure. I imagined a big Swedish masseuse hacking at my shoulder blades with her massive man paws.<br /><br />"Tina! You have to come try this. The water beats you and removes your clothing!"<br />She was busy making human soup in a 43 C bath.<br />I was glad that a hotel employee warned us about the shower or else I would've stared into the nose and gotten a black eye.<br /><br />I didn't want my loved ones to worry if they couldn't reach me last night so I asked the front desk to send Sean an e-mail. He later called: "I got a strange e-mail today from a Frank Lin. It said, 'I'm staying at a hotel on Yangmingshan. Signed, your dear daughter."<br /><br />Yeesh, maybe I should not be skipping Mandarin lessons this morning to play in the mountains.<br /><br /><em>New mountain friends, at breakfast, in the park, by the pool:</em><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguYYFfUJhhc3Pu0OB3_DfD19SiP8I4Y_Q4jOghJN_RuY4NSocciBN_e33SeL-7hydw0M0IundPdyCITk9O5SIyaa1fXp1oEyg_iWwkia9DDeZOKv3vXd47KmRGZy9m__n5gYNWcXs4u3Ug/s1600-h/pic+377.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394227710747684754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguYYFfUJhhc3Pu0OB3_DfD19SiP8I4Y_Q4jOghJN_RuY4NSocciBN_e33SeL-7hydw0M0IundPdyCITk9O5SIyaa1fXp1oEyg_iWwkia9DDeZOKv3vXd47KmRGZy9m__n5gYNWcXs4u3Ug/s320/pic+377.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfr-ridRjIZ-Ca5e1gZspd-bfez7KQgW-Tl8h4OWuLLgUhJJeBUMqrEW8oE5dmv-jydlX6sjnROmvdzhKsnZeW-rRlxiG8J2zQLiViXceB5fgxps8s2RLwfTzD38Vk1B7xoj1QWjdoY0Gm/s1600-h/pic+292.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394227305280776818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfr-ridRjIZ-Ca5e1gZspd-bfez7KQgW-Tl8h4OWuLLgUhJJeBUMqrEW8oE5dmv-jydlX6sjnROmvdzhKsnZeW-rRlxiG8J2zQLiViXceB5fgxps8s2RLwfTzD38Vk1B7xoj1QWjdoY0Gm/s320/pic+292.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9uo59lOHzu77r23Ps5rLBTTA3-hzuM15fGpZ81I4sg1gIbhFQ_mWeJruoUuuKyPK6slN8WNrx0uaRCRSo0sjyBgpnlPs1_OFJAKM475DT6Oa8qqItJjpAryrv4VIkkBFiiOsXub0Uv2kK/s1600-h/pic+397.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394228062430966274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9uo59lOHzu77r23Ps5rLBTTA3-hzuM15fGpZ81I4sg1gIbhFQ_mWeJruoUuuKyPK6slN8WNrx0uaRCRSo0sjyBgpnlPs1_OFJAKM475DT6Oa8qqItJjpAryrv4VIkkBFiiOsXub0Uv2kK/s320/pic+397.jpg" /></a>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-29394924793992219182009-10-18T01:35:00.011+08:002009-10-20T20:06:26.434+08:00Full of loofahs<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuhV4u1nzwbrew0RRMOa6PvtNOf_oZZby5DAmUlzmuzLjRaUM4qW_EKKDxZCgixk6C2jdcX-ANLD0dQsnNDhAetpS6_Xmm_LgwcvdeofjYxLOTUgldpz_gxAZxUyn_45qXnKQp5ppiLDQ/s1600-h/pic+222.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393629224052014402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuhV4u1nzwbrew0RRMOa6PvtNOf_oZZby5DAmUlzmuzLjRaUM4qW_EKKDxZCgixk6C2jdcX-ANLD0dQsnNDhAetpS6_Xmm_LgwcvdeofjYxLOTUgldpz_gxAZxUyn_45qXnKQp5ppiLDQ/s400/pic+222.jpg" /></a>There was no gradual onset of fullness. The food just exploded in my stomach. It was like, 'POW! I'm full.'<br /><br /><div>It reminds me of that scene in that old Gong Li movie, <em>Lifetimes,</em> where the lead characters feed a starving doctor seven buns and then give him some water to drink. The husband says, "If you drink water, one bun becomes seven in your stomach. Seven times seven equals 49. No wonder the doctor passed out!"<br /></div><div>Tina and I ate too many deep fried goodies, fried almond abalone mushrooms, golden shrimp rolls, at the famous Slack Season Tan Tsi Noodles restaurant where one fried loofah equals seven fried loofahs in your stomach.<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2VETZlZhM3UW8Bv6BGumrFrimOasc4kkosPeqdOCXTj33E25bJY_RXxDTKxONWPz6RayOhl-K_8yKD7Uq3rV_hwR4z7WSYC29cgk0rHVPgoMxj8u2o9j2tb_ArczbrDL_koei2-03F6ed/s1600-h/pic+231.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393630460951361970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2VETZlZhM3UW8Bv6BGumrFrimOasc4kkosPeqdOCXTj33E25bJY_RXxDTKxONWPz6RayOhl-K_8yKD7Uq3rV_hwR4z7WSYC29cgk0rHVPgoMxj8u2o9j2tb_ArczbrDL_koei2-03F6ed/s200/pic+231.jpg" /></a>I've never eaten loofahs or sponge cucumbers before. Only used them to scrub dirt off of my body in the shower <em>(see picture)</em>.</div><div>"Don't loofahs taste like plant?"<br />"Loofahs taste like loofah," Tina says. She dips the deep fried bit into honey.<br />"No, taste it again," I say and I stare at her, willing her to taste what I taste. "Okay. Imagine that you're in a botanical garden and you're diving into a bush with your mouth open. Do you taste the plant and the soil? It tastes the way plants smell!"<br />"It tastes like loofah. It's like asking what apples taste like."</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgElFXjtdct980S3rhGhdjOshuCiWl_RcmFmdd4fMV2g6gjHvYJHJnPtd6eLjnTGXjeKu1oE7tsssYKFFyBrPkmkkPNmNO3hnRwcywEwhG9mrgEchdgYfFkPrsNN0nlG5aWPpkOCGFAsgrw/s1600-h/pic+226.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393630091526566354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgElFXjtdct980S3rhGhdjOshuCiWl_RcmFmdd4fMV2g6gjHvYJHJnPtd6eLjnTGXjeKu1oE7tsssYKFFyBrPkmkkPNmNO3hnRwcywEwhG9mrgEchdgYfFkPrsNN0nlG5aWPpkOCGFAsgrw/s200/pic+226.jpg" /></a>The sign outside the beautiful restaurant says, "since 1895." A photo hangs on the wall showing the stall, the brick oven and the stone bowl where it all began down an alley. At the entrance, a man sits in front of a pot, dishing out soup noodles and rice with a scoop of marinated pork.</div><br /><div></div><div>The pot has a shiny brown crust, which looks like half of a muffin top, so we ask the cook about it. It's grease and bits that have formed from stewing the meat.<br />The pot, he says, has not been washed in 11 years.<br />That wouldn't pass your father's health inspection in Canada, Tina says.</div><br /><div><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393628651394885106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_AOOY2NnQcYUllb6amrLVUhx3p-GF7yuAjVpTlZs6rdizBjs71vvZhdZFu8zfeGFW4PvZ8DtFJ7qpfQXg8BhIq3qONfYbc36n1w3dUIJaCO8caCG5d2iBA2GlV5ZCRvALdN4KAScFN39/s400/pic+218.jpg" /></div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-37223706630601817472009-10-14T19:29:00.008+08:002009-10-14T20:18:49.078+08:00GPA: 99.36%. Bank account, 0.My bank account hit zero yesterday.<br /><br /><div><div>But it is possible to live well in Taipei on very little. There are no problems here, as Hemingway once said, though about Paris, "except where to be happiest."<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392426638239507922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelKTK3RKdk-RDVmHEOe64s4oFPtSmT85bU7YlZ_JVGPrklR169t4yTGcTy29H9gKxb5QWKOwKicVbmL21hC82elj5aQeZuLuPz9-U5eruByCWd0rBv-v-wE7P1xCj278Z1txEZORdutDG/s200/pic+202.jpg" />It's my own damn fault that my bank account hit zero because this weekend, I splurged on an $8 pashmina and a $14 black skirt in the Wufenpu commercial area, a maze of clothing and shoe shops near Houshanpi Station.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AvGuz09YzKFa_-EjBuXFv0wt_K2gwWFm5-sunwxBtFwijzzKMY8LhpPDCz0GxZkRj38C96ElB9gdhtVR59rhAKkik8v0CAcR5YMIjwwB7f23a40GG5r8uHOOePTLw9-vgAGOTVRU1cTG/s1600-h/pic+313.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392427204957323250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AvGuz09YzKFa_-EjBuXFv0wt_K2gwWFm5-sunwxBtFwijzzKMY8LhpPDCz0GxZkRj38C96ElB9gdhtVR59rhAKkik8v0CAcR5YMIjwwB7f23a40GG5r8uHOOePTLw9-vgAGOTVRU1cTG/s200/pic+313.jpg" /></a>For lunch today, I had a bowl of noodles, fresh pork dumplings and a cold soybean milk. My noodles had little broth so I flavoured them with pickled vegetables and hot sauce. The bill was about $2 CND.</div></div><div> </div><div><div><br /></div><div>Tina and I spent yesterday wandering in the Shin Kong Mitsukoshi department store, getting make-overs and then we sat in a cafe near my home until early, drinking hot, milk tea. I studied for an exam, making up little stories to help me remember my Chinese characters.<br /></div><div>"Hey, the Chinese character for 'newspaper' reminds me of Hangman. Here are the gallows. Here's me," said the newspaper reporter.</div><div> </div><div>Exam tomorrow. Encouragement from Sean: "I want you to get 100% or I won't love you anymore. In fact, no one will."</div></div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-47905244997206693832009-10-12T23:13:00.000+08:002009-10-13T01:23:23.080+08:00Sex and the Taiwanese CityTina teaches a Sex and the City class on Mondays.<br /><br />Almost all two dozen seats in the classroom are taken. Only two students are male. We're watching Ex and the City, the season 2 finale, where Carrie tries to be friends with Big only to learn that he is engaged.<br /><br />The girl beside me writes "strong, big horse" on her transcript, beside the word "stallion."<br /><br />Tina pauses the DVD to explain the meaning of: "Goldicocks."<br /><br />“Once, this shy girl raised her hand, ‘Teacher, what is ultra-textured Trojan with a reservoir tip?’” Tina tells me.<br /><br />“I ended up drawing it on the board.”Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-72976837580851458472009-10-09T17:11:00.006+08:002009-10-10T02:53:33.195+08:00Dating 101: Excuse me, is this seat taken?Today, I am cherishing what I have.<br /><br />I am in a happy and fulfilling relationship with a Canadian and this spares me from having to navigate the dating scene in Taipei.<br /><br />The men here are less aggressive and less apt to approach you than in the West, Tina says. A friend of hers met his girlfriend in a more traditional way: his parents paid a matchmaker to find a candidate and then the two families met up for dinner.<br /><br />(Oh my God. Can you imagine a first date with your parents and siblings? My mother would be unforgiving: "I think his hair is receding. Look at the father. Totally bald. And their nostrils are too big.")<br /><br />Myself, Tina and two single girlfriends dressed up for a party at the Shangri-La Far Eastern Hotel. We were all wearing fake eyelashes (which cost less than a dollar on the streets of Taipei) and a different coloured dress which made us look like a moving pack of Lifesavers.<br /><br />Tina's friend, Sandy, is a former modeling scout who now manages aspiring stars and looking at her makes me smile. She is talkative and expressive. She has deep laugh lines at the corner of her eyes, a testament to how much and how forcefully she laughs. Her face at rest though, with its soft features, is angelic and framed by a sleek, sheet of jet black that cuts across her jawline.<br /><br />The mixer was for Ivy league alumni living in Taipei.<br /><br />But apparently, despite our fine education and worldly pursuits, we are shy to mingle.<br /><br />So a dim, <a href="http://www.shangri-la.com/en/property/taipei/fareasternplaza/dining/restaurant/marcopololounge">stylish lounge</a> with a view of Taipei's twinkling skyline from the 38th floor, the partygoers - graduates from Harvard, Stanford, etc., architect prodigies and business moguls in the making - were chosen at random to play a round of musical chairs.<br /><br /><em>Zhen de ma?</em> Really?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwIvx-YAWL9S2ySQJ6lf3XkfgGxbhika9-UomkF-fmXTBEj6VZX7RrKXoK3ZcsqztkrzwxqUv2BfY4-dtVDjriWGH3Zz_yVHurQqQDeJji26qTQDGbwBiVWphSxDv9tpO-yp0KP05DRp5/s1600-h/pic+056.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390557368044161554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwIvx-YAWL9S2ySQJ6lf3XkfgGxbhika9-UomkF-fmXTBEj6VZX7RrKXoK3ZcsqztkrzwxqUv2BfY4-dtVDjriWGH3Zz_yVHurQqQDeJji26qTQDGbwBiVWphSxDv9tpO-yp0KP05DRp5/s200/pic+056.jpg" /></a>Epilogue: We left to eat Taiwanese breakfast with two new friends. Sandy pointed out that one our new playmates resembles, Winnie The Pooh, which I found uproariously funny. He and his, tall, slim friend (Tigger) were such good sports about it.Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-9994097373885202662009-10-06T03:40:00.000+08:002009-10-06T14:40:42.664+08:00Hi Gods, it's me, Liang Yong Yin.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw7tznYQ2SFAR8_gdvT8STeFWy4UGjXfaqNTLFF2Mg806k1XCsPOGR82FLBhT89_jeHg24-m2H1v2rhTJ_y7P_X6HzhffSzSuCO8acyE2xpF0Tlim8UIuhrDpTjNk3gdVBWHDjNolgvF-d/s1600-h/pic+086.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 225px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 319px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389369430532254786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw7tznYQ2SFAR8_gdvT8STeFWy4UGjXfaqNTLFF2Mg806k1XCsPOGR82FLBhT89_jeHg24-m2H1v2rhTJ_y7P_X6HzhffSzSuCO8acyE2xpF0Tlim8UIuhrDpTjNk3gdVBWHDjNolgvF-d/s400/pic+086.jpg" /></a>Maybe the Gods didn't understand my English, or my convoluted, lengthy questions...<br /><div>I went to Yongshan Temple, seeking peace and answers.<br /></div><div>Tina says on New Years Eve, scores of people line up here to be the first person of the year to pray and plunge his or her incense stick in the burner. That person is considered to be extremely lucky and is immediately interviewed by media. I imagine the worshippers charging into this temple like frantic shoppers on Boxing Day.<br />Tonight, approaching typhoons have brought rain and only a few dozen people are inside the darkened temple. Chinese folk music with its lilting flute, plays throughout the site. Visitors have placed pomelos and potted plants before the Gods.</div><br /><div>Tina and I each light seven incense sticks (provided free of charge) and pay our respects to the deities at different bays in the temple: the Goddess of matrimony, the God of education. Tina says that I have to introduce myself to each God, tell them my birthdate and address. I must also thank them, bow three times and then put a stick of incense in the burner, which looks like a cauldron.<br /></div><div></div><div>As sincerely as possible for an atheist, I follow her instructions and pray for my good friend, Dar, to have a healthy, beautiful baby. I ask them to bless the marriage of my best friends, Uch and Kish. I ask them to look out for my boyfriend, Sean, who tears his tendons and breaks his teeth playing hockey.<br /></div><div>And then I ask the Gods for guidance. I kneel on a cushion and clasp a pair of divination blocks in my hands - they're crescents-shaped, red wooden pieces, flat on one side, rounded on the other. I ask the Gods about my future and toss the blocks. If they both land on the same side, the Gods are saying, "No," or "Ask again," or "We have no clue what you are saying."<br /></div><div>After at least eight drops, I say to Tina: "My perogies keep telling me, 'No.'"<br /></div><div>Maybe the Gods don't have translators, she says. She asks in Mandarin if I can draw a fortune stick. Her perogies land in the "Yes" position - one on the flat side, one on the rounded.<br />I pick up a bunch of sticks, like it is a bouquet, and drop them back into a bin; the one that rises above the rest is supposed to be mine. I pull out the protruding stick and ask the Gods if this is indeed, my fortune. The divination blocks, twice, say, "Yes."</div><div></div><div>The stick reads 93. We go to a cabinet, pull out the small drawer labelled 93 and take the strip of paper inside with my fortune. We bring it to a man behind a counter who can decipher its meaning. </div><div>Tina translates: "Don't forget to cherish what you have."</div><br /><div>I call my parents to tell them about my spiritual experiment.<br /></div><div>"Daddy," he says - my father always refers to himself in the third person, "considers those to be like fortune cookies. Those comments are generalizations. They don't mean anything."<br />"Hey mom," I say. "I prayed for your good health."<br />"Pray to the Gods that your stomach will shrink."</div><div></div><div>Very funny, mom.</div>Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3636315507812115320.post-14837582838945988252009-10-05T02:04:00.011+08:002009-10-05T03:40:25.124+08:00Mid-autumn festival with the Xie clan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3gIAEob38v9gF4uyQFtHag2rLnanlfDN8XgwErLUFSAOYR2w671xzkS14gNdkcpnTrOUGkon0yhasd6gtKCbVg-S9y2egw-UVj1EkU51REGdKnttYSAk9QJ6aWAi3ctOdE-tGDw0smgU/s1600-h/pic+063.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: left; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388813243387739762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3gIAEob38v9gF4uyQFtHag2rLnanlfDN8XgwErLUFSAOYR2w671xzkS14gNdkcpnTrOUGkon0yhasd6gtKCbVg-S9y2egw-UVj1EkU51REGdKnttYSAk9QJ6aWAi3ctOdE-tGDw0smgU/s400/pic+063.jpg" /></a>I was fortunate enough to spend the holidays with the Xie family.<br /><br />Xie Mama used to babysit Tina when she was a child. Their home is in Yong He - a district made famous by the World Soybean Milk Magnate, a 24-hour breakfast joint that is busy around the clock and imitated around the world.<br /><br />Xie Mama's grandchildren sat on stools on the balcony around a small grill, cooking sausages, tofu, pork steaks, enoki mushrooms, bamboo shoots, shrimp and fish fillets. The apartment filled with smoke, creating a dream-like feel to the evening as we moved through the white haze.<br /><br />Xie Mama is a jovial, youthful-looking 72-year-old woman. She wore a loose pink top and khaki capris. Her eyebrows were elegantly arched and her lips rouged with fuchsia. She spoke to me in Taiwanese the entire night despite everyone's gentle chiding and reminders that I did not understand. She has a loud, hearty laugh and when she experiments with English, her intonation rises: "I lubah you?" "Bye bye?"<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzk73nMfqPToSI_fucz1RgGV-tdCspLHlMFZew_01lHWynMhyphenhyphen4GhyphenhyphenvQCFZyFqZKWbBje0HylqLiMwVZQFvDZ2K6K5BDUeZwkVIi3k9esA4g7U0CaiueZhG8oe0JFc60SoifLZP_KLudUW/s1600-h/pic+067.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388818352960355970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzk73nMfqPToSI_fucz1RgGV-tdCspLHlMFZew_01lHWynMhyphenhyphen4GhyphenhyphenvQCFZyFqZKWbBje0HylqLiMwVZQFvDZ2K6K5BDUeZwkVIi3k9esA4g7U0CaiueZhG8oe0JFc60SoifLZP_KLudUW/s200/pic+067.jpg" /></a>Tina and I ate sliced guava, honey pear and pomelo which is like green grapefruit. When you cut pomelo, the Chinese use the word "sa" or kill. "With no other fruit do you use this term," Tina said. "You kill the pomelo." We savoured its sweet, floral taste; its flesh breaks apart in your mouth, like how cooked fish meat might flake.<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUXzXGZVYEIq5HZ0AntsjnLLt31kAtFZBpB9s_dC98xZGbXiGIEp7DmAZqJPudVJ2gJpYT8GXYs9X6S8-vrE04c_yx5uMH4SuPKfS1VXU_1eFjauzoypnAR4z5RLW5m_CpBfx_WIAqYfJ8/s1600-h/pic+079.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388820719794533954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUXzXGZVYEIq5HZ0AntsjnLLt31kAtFZBpB9s_dC98xZGbXiGIEp7DmAZqJPudVJ2gJpYT8GXYs9X6S8-vrE04c_yx5uMH4SuPKfS1VXU_1eFjauzoypnAR4z5RLW5m_CpBfx_WIAqYfJ8/s200/pic+079.jpg" /></a>Jack, Xie Mama's eldest son, handed us a bag of black seeds, which I stared at in amazement. It helps with digestion, he said. The black, shiny bits were shaped like the bottom halves of pandas or like bull heads. We broke the hard hulls with our molars and then ate the white, potato-like insides. (A search on The Google later revealed that they are water caltrops.)</p><p>Xie Mama's eldest daughter came to visit with her precocious daughter. An aunt gave the girl an orange sucker. "It's shit candy," Jack said.<br />"What?"</p><p>I looked at it and sure enough, it was shaped like a pile of poo, except orange. "Why?"<br />Jack shrugged. "For fun!"</p><p>We gourmandized and took turns sitting in a massage chair. We watched Taiwanese soap operas and force fed our glutted selves sweet caramel jiffy pop and green tea mochi balls. Xie Mama told us stories about how they used to lock Tina in the bathroom because she wouldn't eat and when she did, she would store the food in her cheeks like a chipmunk.</p>It was nice to do something that felt like home.<br /><br />At 11 p.m., we passed a crowded World Soybean Milk Magnate on the way to Dingxi station. Tina says I stood transfixed by the food like I had just spent a decade starving in jail:<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyU2nyMy6bPuW0VOfrz2ZgIQIVE6556tilmuyrshY0DM9FhVevaxUPJ18tMOLmmFCnh69LtTss6E6vY4CpPjg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />An hour and a half later, an earthquake rattled the country. Safe in my quivering apartment, I thought of all of the food bouncing around that restaurant. Hope none of it was wasted.Lishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15648102781293510763noreply@blogger.com1