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Saturday, August 19, 2006 · posted at 7:58 AM

Taiwan, et cetera. A laundry list of observations because I'm too lazy to organize my experiences into anything coherent and because incoherence seems to best sum up the trip:

Betel nut girls. Scantily clad girls sell betel nuts on the streets in neon-lit, Hello Kitty decorated roadstands. The tour guide wanted to stop so that we could try the local flavor - the betel nuts, not the girl. One father yelled from the back, "Don't stop. Keep driving," which made you want to applaud his indignation at the situation and women's rights, et cetera until he continued and said, "Keep driving. This one is wearing all her clothes."

Do you really know American English? Apparently I don't, according to the same-named book, because I've never used the phrase "Sea monkeys have invaded the office aquarium" and I didn't know who Danny Kaye, Jack Benny or WC Fields were (American comedians).

Don't drink the water. Should you be suspicious of the tap in a place where the hotels provide you complimentary bottled water? Upon entering the bathroom in Taichung, my first thought was, "What the hell did my brother eat?" Later I would realize that the sulfurous smell was coming from the water pipes...

Western music. Ashley Simpson in the grocery store. Billy Joel on the radio. Destiny's Child in the gift stores. However, I don't think Taiwan is ready for that jelly.

Ro tang ji. A chicken dunked in hot water. Also what we looked like caught in torrential rain without an umbrella.

Chiang Kai Shek Memorial. Seen one memorial, seen them all? Possibly, if the famous figure is seated in a white mausoleum looking room with quotes inscribed in the wall.

Find the president... Oh wait, find the respected military leader... Doh - just find the one who's Chinese.

The China Times. Looks like a newspaper from the outside, but on the inside? So Us Weekly. There's a "Stars - They're just like us!" section, though their paparazzi is only able to muster up B-list tabloid stars such as Al Pacino.

Newspapers are in vending machinese, books and magzines (even the non-racy kind) are in plastic wrap... this is what happens when a country has a 96% literacy rate...

Dance, dance revolution. We watched a few aboriginal dance performances with young bare-chested males which reminded me that I should be much more appreciative of guys who work out their pecs. The dances encorporated many moves that your homophobic American would never attempt. But the scary part of the night came when the dance troupe asked for volunteers for what looked like a variation of square dancing. Asian people impromptu dancing? Shudder.

Real men wear skirts and aren't afraid to hold hands... or boast cheetah print and legless pants.
"It's A Small World" of bodhisattvas. At the Buddhist temple, there was a hallway that led you through something akin to the Disneyland bane. Complete with music, random scenery (tropical trees on the wall and fake icicles from the ceiling... at the same time), rows of animated people, and a subliminal chant. Then you enter the hall of huge ceramic figurines. It's a little bit unnerving - especially the guy who follows you with his eyes. My favorite was Virupaksa, a Dharma guardian. His weapon of choice? A mao bi (calligraphy pen).

From Point A to Point B, in one piece please. In following with the Disneyland theme, all the cities smell like the gasoline fumed Autopia. Instead of tiny race cars on a track, however, Taiwan has thousands of scooters, or moto-bikes, smogging up the air.

Walking in Taiwan is a daredevil sport. I need not bungee-jump or sky dive because I have already done something far more dangerous - walked the streets of Changhua. When I say streets I literally mean streets, as there are no sidewalks, only road. Instead you share the road with through and oncoming cars (also known as auto-mo-byes), motorscooters, bicycles and produce stands. Also the occasional stray dog, or as the locals like to call it, dinner (just kidding, I think).

No one has qualms about crossing into the opposite lane or obeys right of way - you have a destination and stop for no man, woman, child or little old lady to get there. The organized chaos that is morning and evening traffic (there is no noonday traffic as everything stops moving due to the immense heat) help explain the "crazy Asian driver" stereotype in America - to be able to drive means you HAVE to be insane.

Kim Tar rated F. Imagine on every corner a restaurant or stand akin to Kim Tar (you know, where the ducks hang and the same cutting board and bucket is used for all the parts). I wonder if Taiwanese people ever get traveler's ailments when visiting other countries. After seeing the way the food is stored and cooked (at night markets, out of vans, roadside shops, etc) you figure a lifetime of this would render you an iron stomach.

It doesn't take a public health wanna-be-professional to realize that leaving raw pork kidneys and ribs out in 30C weather is probably not the best idea.

Smells like feet... or cheese. Taiwan... on a hot day... 'nuf said.

Gubo gen Palanka. Thank you comrades. I thought most of those mandarin phrases I learned from you two (and Ding-yun) were useless, but whaddya know I used kongr (free time), chang ge (sing songs) and da xue sushe (college dormitory) among others. All I need now is to hear that someone is having a tiaowuhui (dancing party)...

The breast touching alley. What are they trying to say? That Taiwanese men need to build a road 12 inches wide in order to get some action?

The pecker hypothesis: You can buy a souvenir penis in any tourist country. Whether its clay people banging on a Corona bottle (Mexico), a wooden penis ashtray (Hawaii), or an aborigine sculpture of a girl on a penis rocket in Taiwan. I tried to get my mom to look at one but she wasn't having it. I wonder if she even knew what it was. Later, my parents would ban me from the "adults only" room of my grandfather's antiques. Gees, I hope they don't even understand what's going on in some of those sculptures...

Porcelain... not just for the Ming Dynasty. Prevalence for skin cancer in Taiwan must be at rock bottom levels because pale skin is so chic. Everyone is lily white - okay, ivory. Enter me, stage left, where at the big relative reunion lunch, I looked around and realized I most resembled the Indonesian cook.

Geology for the carnivores. Taiwanese people don't just love meat, they even love things that look like meat - like stones that have been dyed to imitate the fatty layers of pork...

And I thought the Bodies Exhibit was gross...
Lip my stocking.My uncle found a puppy in the mountains, took it home, and called it Rocky, like the boxer. Or was it Lucky, like the adjective?

Your huddled masses... We get off the plane at LAX and are immediately herded down a one way corridor to crowd each other in standing room only buses. How is it that I always get stuck under an armpit - even when the average height is mine?! The buses then dodge landing planes as it crosses the airstrip to the real gates, not the second class citizen ones. Now I know how my relatives at Ellis Island felt, well, that is, if I had relatives who passed through Ellis Island and we were subjected to egregious classist separations, bodily violations, and unsanitary conditions. Still, there is something shady feeling about cramming as many immigrants as you can into a darkened vehicle during the dead of night.

To see more cheesy photos, knock-offs and Engrish at its best, visit my flickr page.



	Saturday, August 19, 2006 · posted at 7:58 AM Taiwan, et cetera. A laundry list of observations because I'm too lazy to organize my experiences into anything coherent and because incoherence seems to best sum up the trip: Betel nut girls. Scantily clad girls sell betel nuts on the streets in neon-lit, Hello Kitty decorated roadstands. The tour guide wanted to stop so that we could try the local flavor - the betel nuts, not the girl. One father yelled from the back, "Don't stop. Keep driving," which made you want to applaud his indignation at the situation and women's rights, et cetera until he continued and said, "Keep driving. This one is wearing all her clothes." Do you really know American English? Apparently I don't, according to the same-named book, because I've never used the phrase "Sea monkeys have invaded the office aquarium" and I didn't know who Danny Kaye, Jack Benny or WC Fields were (American comedians). Don't drink the water. Should you be suspicious of the tap in a place where the hotels provide you complimentary bottled water? Upon entering the bathroom in Taichung, my first thought was, "What the hell did my brother eat?" Later I would realize that the sulfurous smell was coming from the water pipes... Western music. Ashley Simpson in the grocery store. Billy Joel on the radio. Destiny's Child in the gift stores. However, I don't think Taiwan is ready for that jelly. *Ro tang ji. A chicken dunked in hot water. Also what we looked like caught in torrential rain without an umbrella. Chiang Kai Shek Memorial.* Seen one memorial, seen them all? Possibly, if the famous figure is seated in a white mausoleum looking room with quotes inscribed in the wall. *Find the president... Oh wait, find the respected military leader... Doh - just find the one who's Chinese.* The China Times. Looks like a newspaper from the outside, but on the inside? So Us Weekly. There's a "Stars - They're just like us!" section, though their paparazzi is only able to muster up B-list tabloid stars such as Al Pacino. Newspapers are in vending machinese, books and magzines (even the non-racy kind) are in plastic wrap... this is what happens when a country has a 96% literacy rate... Dance, dance revolution. We watched a few aboriginal dance performances with young bare-chested males which reminded me that I should be much more appreciative of guys who work out their pecs. The dances encorporated many moves that your homophobic American would never attempt. But the scary part of the night came when the dance troupe asked for volunteers for what looked like a variation of square dancing. Asian people impromptu dancing? Shudder. Real men wear skirts and aren't afraid to hold hands... or boast cheetah print and legless pants. "It's A Small World" of bodhisattvas. At the Buddhist temple, there was a hallway that led you through something akin to the Disneyland bane. Complete with music, random scenery (tropical trees on the wall and fake icicles from the ceiling... at the same time), rows of animated people, and a subliminal chant. Then you enter the hall of huge ceramic figurines. It's a little bit unnerving - especially the guy who follows you with his eyes. My favorite was Virupaksa, a Dharma guardian. His weapon of choice? A mao bi (calligraphy pen). From Point A to Point B, in one piece please. In following with the Disneyland theme, all the cities smell like the gasoline fumed Autopia. Instead of tiny race cars on a track, however, Taiwan has thousands of scooters, or moto-bikes, smogging up the air. Walking in Taiwan is a daredevil sport. I need not bungee-jump or sky dive because I have already done something far more dangerous - walked the streets of Changhua. When I say streets I literally mean streets, as there are no sidewalks, only road. Instead you share the road with through and oncoming cars (also known as auto-mo-byes), motorscooters, bicycles and produce stands. Also the occasional stray dog, or as the locals like to call it, dinner (just kidding, I think). No one has qualms about crossing into the opposite lane or obeys right of way - you have a destination and stop for no man, woman, child or little old lady to get there. The organized chaos that is morning and evening traffic (there is no noonday traffic as everything stops moving due to the immense heat) help explain the "crazy Asian driver" stereotype in America - to be able to drive means you HAVE to be insane. Kim Tar rated F. Imagine on every corner a restaurant or stand akin to Kim Tar (you know, where the ducks hang and the same cutting board and bucket is used for all the parts). I wonder if Taiwanese people ever get traveler's ailments when visiting other countries. After seeing the way the food is stored and cooked (at night markets, out of vans, roadside shops, etc) you figure a lifetime of this would render you an iron stomach. *It doesn't take a public health wanna-be-professional to realize that leaving raw pork kidneys and ribs out in 30C weather is probably not the best idea.* Smells like feet... or cheese. Taiwan... on a hot day... 'nuf said. Gubo gen Palanka. Thank you comrades. I thought most of those mandarin phrases I learned from you two (and Ding-yun) were useless, but whaddya know I used kongr (free time), chang ge (sing songs) and da xue sushe (college dormitory) among others. All I need now is to hear that someone is having a tiaowuhui (dancing party)... The breast touching alley. What are they trying to say? That Taiwanese men need to build a road 12 inches wide in order to get some action? The pecker hypothesis: You can buy a souvenir penis in any tourist country. Whether its clay people banging on a Corona bottle (Mexico), a wooden penis ashtray (Hawaii), or an aborigine sculpture of a girl on a penis rocket in Taiwan. I tried to get my mom to look at one but she wasn't having it. I wonder if she even knew what it was. Later, my parents would ban me from the "adults only" room of my grandfather's antiques. Gees, I hope they don't even understand what's going on in some of those sculptures... Porcelain... not just for the Ming Dynasty. Prevalence for skin cancer in Taiwan must be at rock bottom levels because pale skin is so chic. Everyone is lily white - okay, ivory. Enter me, stage left, where at the big relative reunion lunch, I looked around and realized I most resembled the Indonesian cook. Geology for the carnivores. Taiwanese people don't just love meat, they even love things that look like meat - like stones that have been dyed to imitate the fatty layers of pork... And I thought the Bodies Exhibit was gross... Lip my stocking.My uncle found a puppy in the mountains, took it home, and called it Rocky, like the boxer. Or was it Lucky, like the adjective? Your huddled masses... We get off the plane at LAX and are immediately herded down a one way corridor to crowd each other in standing room only buses. How is it that I always get stuck under an armpit - even when the average height is mine?! The buses then dodge landing planes as it crosses the airstrip to the real gates, not the second class citizen ones. Now I know how my relatives at Ellis Island felt, well, that is, if I had relatives who passed through Ellis Island and we were subjected to egregious classist separations, bodily violations, and unsanitary conditions. Still, there is something shady feeling about cramming as many immigrants as you can into a darkened vehicle during the dead of night. To see more cheesy photos, knock-offs and Engrish at its best, visit my flickr page.	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