This past Thanksgiving weekend, I didn’t eat any turkey or yams, and I only had half of a piece of pumpkin pie, but I realized I have much to be thankful for. The funny thing is, I think this is the first Thanksgiving that I didn’t try to force thankfulness. It just came.
A common American Thanksgiving tradition is to go around the table and name a few things you’re thankful for. The social media craze seems to have taken this to a whole other level–listing something you’re thankful for every day of November. Usually, people give glossy, pre-packaged answers: my family, my significant other, my job, my freedom of religion. Come to think of it, it could make a fun drinking game. Hear the word family, do a shot.
It’s an admirable tradition, taking a few minutes to contemplate the blessings you’ve been given, and I don’t want to denounce it. But every year, it sets me on edge. I’m not good at putting on a show, of acting a certain way when I’m not feeling it. Sometimes, this is a virtue. (Saving my friend from buying an unflattering dress) Other times, it’s a fault. (Not complimenting my friend on her new baby because his face is raisin purple)
So when I’m put on the spot to fork over a serving of thankfulness, it often doesn’t happen. I just regurgitate something that will pacify the people around me. “My family, my significant other, this scrumptious-looking meal . . .” It’s not like those are lies. I am grateful for those truths. But I don’t really mean it, not in that moment.
I explained the tradition to a friend on Thursday. She thought it sounded great and wanted to do it. In our gluttony-induced comas, we kind of forgot, but I want to do it now.
This year, I’m thankful for . . .
. . . a group of friends. It takes me a long time to settle in to a place, into a group of people. I didn’t feel like Boston was home until it was time to leave. But Taiwan has been different. My friends and I may not have all the same interests or speak the same native language, but with them, I am free to be myself.
. . . Taiwanese friendliness. One of Josh and my Thanksgiving dinners was at our church. We were the only two foreigners there, and I was the only one who doesn’t speak Chinese. Yet all the festivities–the songs, the skit, the testimonies–were all translated into English. For me.
. . . parents who don’t always agree or understand, but who do always love and respect. I mean, my mother is reading Caitlin Moran right now because I mentioned it to her a few weeks ago. That is love.
. . . learning, at the behest of Josh, to ignore trivialities and pursue what makes me happy: books, writing, beer, copious amounts of coffee, and figuring out how to light my pipe by like, the third try. My underwear drawer is totally unorganized (finding a pair of matching socks is murder). My legs are getting prickly. And that is OK. I think.
I’ve pulled up a chair to many Thanksgiving tables: my mother’s, both my grandmothers’, my Boston landlord’s daughter’s, a French restaurant’s in Montreal, and a Taiwanese-Canadian couple’s. This year, it was some friends’ coffee table overloaded with seafood pasta and fried chicken. But I finally felt what Thanksgiving is really about.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Friday, November 2, 2012
The Real Taiwan
Lonely Planet: Taiwan (Yes, I am that mainstream.) says that venturing outside of Taipei gives travelers “their first taste of what many consider to be the ‘real Taiwan.’” Josh and I spent five days road tripping around Taiwan on Rodney the Motorcycle for the Double Ten holiday, and Real Taiwan is certainly cooler than . . . the fake one. (?) It was a magical place where the air smelled like jasmine and pollution didn’t blot out the sun.
Day 1 – 220 km
When I was a kid, I loved the book Misty of Chincoteague. I wanted a horse with “a patch of white on her side, shaped like the United States” desperately. But horses—nationalist symbols or not—did not want me. I was that pre-teen girl at the horse-riding birthday parties whose tame, donethisfordecadeswithoutbuckinganyone mare would get distracted by some tasty morsel of grass, fall behind the group, then get spooked by my cries for help and gallop away, only to be rounded up by a not-handsome-at-all cowboy.
After spending seven straight hours on the motorcycle, I think those horses were doing me a favor. They could smell the weakness in me when it comes to chapped tushie. We wanted to get as far away from the sprawling capital in one day as possible, so we made a break for Taroko Gorge.
We passed these views along the way.
Taroko Gorge is the number one tourist destination in Taiwan, and it’s easy to see why. It’s basically a mini Grand Canyon except with marble walls and a river with minerals in it that make it a cloudy grey-blue.
People here have a different style of traveling—families and friends go places together, in huge groups on double-decker tour buses. That’s totally awesome until 30+ buses (For reals. We counted.) are trying to navigate the windy, two-lane road perched on the edge of cliffs through the Gorge. Normally, driving a motorcycle means you can just whip around traffic jams, but not when there are buses involved. It took us 20ish minutes to go five kilometers.
Day 2 – 180 km
Back on the bike, we spent the day on Highway 9, which goes along the East Rift Valley between the East Coast Mountain Range and the Central Mountain Range. The valley makes up about 20% of Taiwan’s land mass but only 2% of its population. Basically, it’s just stretches of rice fields and fruit trees. With mountains on each side, expanses of rice fields, and wizened farmers in conical hats, it’s the Asia that people who have never been to Asia always picture.
Day 3 – 14 km
We spent Monday hiking the Walami Trail, some of the best preserved jungle in Taiwan. It was here that I learned something new about Josh: he can talk to monkeys.
There were monkeys everywhere. We had staring matches with five or six different troops. They would stare at us for several minutes, their little red faces indignant through the trees. They’d yell this single syllable squawk back and forth, (probably monkey speak for “Stranger, danger!”) and then all we’d see were the trees swaying back and forth and they swung away. Seeing monkeys in the wild was definitely a highlight.
Back to Josh’s special gift. The first time we heard their danger squawk, we couldn’t quite spot them through the dense foliage. So Josh, a monkey aficionado, mimicked their squawk perfectly and, sure enough, they jumped towards us. Then they realized they were getting lured in by that creepy guy with the dark van and did an about-face, but it was still cool.
Day 4 – 220 km
On day four, it was time to set our sails for home. We took Highway 9 back along the coast.
Day 5 – 130 km
Seeing as we had passed the Tropic of Cancer (i.e. that invisible line that keeps rain clouds at bay) the day before, the last stretch wasn’t as picturesque. But it was beautiful in its own grey way.
We stopped at my favorite place in Taiwan for seafood – Daxi Fishing Port. . .
. . . and got a bowl of fried goodness, including fried seaweed. That may sound gross to the uninitiated, but I haven’t met someone yet who tried it and didn’t become addicted.
We did other cool things too, like soaking in hot springs, and met lots of great people, like our couchsurfing host's toddler, who was obsessed with "the Germans." Now, three weeks later, winter is approaching. Soon, I’ll be enduring nonstop drizzle and cleaning mold off the apartment walls. But, even when I’m drying my face with my perpetually wet towel, at least I’ll always have the Real Taiwan.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Sun Moon Lake
Riding the subway during rush hour here is akin to being one of the first customers into Best Buy on Black Friday—by the time you leave, you’re bruised, you’re battered, and your sense of personal space has been beaten and left for dead.
But swimming across a lake with 28,000 people for 2.5 hours makes taking the MRT look like child’s play.
This past weekend was Taiwan’s annual Sun Moon Lake International Swimming Carnival (the real English name), the one day a year that people are allowed to swim in the biggest lake on the island. Crystal clear and surrounded by mountains, it’s no wonder people jump at the chance to get in (pun intended). In fact, it’s the world’s largest open water swim.
People have been doing this 3.3 km swim since 1983, and there’s always a big turn-out. At first, I thought this was odd because many Taiwanese people can’t swim. I’m not sure why, seeing as the nation is, ya know, surrounded by water. But the sport’s just not that popular.
Then I learned that there are a few safety measures for the Sun Moon Lake swim.
1. Piers with two lifeguards are stationed every 100 meters. Swimmers may stop and rest on these piers, which also have snacks like chocolate and “Friendly Biscuits” available.
- Some swimmers took this opportunity to whip out their Ziploc baggies protecting cigarettes and iPhones and take a smoke / Facebook break.
2. Every swimmer must have a floating device. And carrying it is not acceptable—it must be firmly secured to the body.
3. Swimmers must stay in the 50-meter-wide swimming lane. If one strays by even a few inches, the lifeguards will blow unceasingly on their whistles until the deviating swimmer returns to the safety of the lane.
4. Every swimmer must wear a swimming cap, which he or she may take off and wave if in need of assistance. (This serves the additional benefit of keeping gross human hair from contaminating the outdoor lake.)
5. To avoid cramps or other injuries, swimmers MUST walk the one-kilometer path to the lake to warm up for the swim.
So it’s more of the world’s safest float trip than a swimming competition.
At first, I thought the rules were overkill, but I was pretty grateful for that floatie once I had to start treading water five minutes in because there were so many people around I literally couldn’t move forward. And the warm-up was smart thinking too. Turns out, dog paddling can be taxing if you do it long enough. Thanks to the warm-up, however, the biggest injury I sustained was floatie burn – like rug burn, except under your arms.
Oh, and all that stuff you hear about Asians doing anything to avoid a tan–it’s all true. Even with the outdoorsy types, it’s true.
But swimming across a lake with 28,000 people for 2.5 hours makes taking the MRT look like child’s play.
This past weekend was Taiwan’s annual Sun Moon Lake International Swimming Carnival (the real English name), the one day a year that people are allowed to swim in the biggest lake on the island. Crystal clear and surrounded by mountains, it’s no wonder people jump at the chance to get in (pun intended). In fact, it’s the world’s largest open water swim.
People have been doing this 3.3 km swim since 1983, and there’s always a big turn-out. At first, I thought this was odd because many Taiwanese people can’t swim. I’m not sure why, seeing as the nation is, ya know, surrounded by water. But the sport’s just not that popular.
Then I learned that there are a few safety measures for the Sun Moon Lake swim.
1. Piers with two lifeguards are stationed every 100 meters. Swimmers may stop and rest on these piers, which also have snacks like chocolate and “Friendly Biscuits” available.
- Some swimmers took this opportunity to whip out their Ziploc baggies protecting cigarettes and iPhones and take a smoke / Facebook break.
2. Every swimmer must have a floating device. And carrying it is not acceptable—it must be firmly secured to the body.
3. Swimmers must stay in the 50-meter-wide swimming lane. If one strays by even a few inches, the lifeguards will blow unceasingly on their whistles until the deviating swimmer returns to the safety of the lane.
4. Every swimmer must wear a swimming cap, which he or she may take off and wave if in need of assistance. (This serves the additional benefit of keeping gross human hair from contaminating the outdoor lake.)
5. To avoid cramps or other injuries, swimmers MUST walk the one-kilometer path to the lake to warm up for the swim.
So it’s more of the world’s safest float trip than a swimming competition.
At first, I thought the rules were overkill, but I was pretty grateful for that floatie once I had to start treading water five minutes in because there were so many people around I literally couldn’t move forward. And the warm-up was smart thinking too. Turns out, dog paddling can be taxing if you do it long enough. Thanks to the warm-up, however, the biggest injury I sustained was floatie burn – like rug burn, except under your arms.
Oh, and all that stuff you hear about Asians doing anything to avoid a tan–it’s all true. Even with the outdoorsy types, it’s true.
Friday, August 17, 2012
The Hunger Games Trilogy
Warning: Spoilers are everywhere.
THE GOOD
The Hunger Games trilogy is a relevant read for teens coming of age in an era when technology is revamping warfare. Panem is a grim picture of what the future might hold if this trend is left unchecked. The prosperous, high-tech Capitol uses little hand-to-hand combat, opting instead for long-distance weapons like muttations, genetically-engineered animals that are trained to kill, but only after a little psychological torture. They also utilize pods, defense mechanisms that can do anything from trap unsuspecting passerby in barbed nets to grind up humans like chicken. These weapons provide maximum enemy casualties without putting the home team at risk. (Sound familiar?)
The way Suzanne Collins depicts the brutal reality of war is perfect—not so gruesome that it gives kids nightmares, but heavy enough to show that taking lives in the name of war is no trivial thing. It also encourages young people to consider a question many adults shrug off: Is war ever the right answer?
THE BAD
People have criticized The Hunger Games for being too much like the Twilight series. But be honest: Twilight was less infuriating. At least Stephanie Meyer didn’t sucker readers into thinking that Bella is some brave heroine. You know she is an airhead with an unhealthy sexual orientation from the start. Katniss, on the other hand, can use a bow. She is a hunter, a rebel who sneaks past the district boundaries to keep her family fed, savvy enough to not only get herself but also a maimed Peeta out of the arena alive. She has all the makings of a revolutionary.
At the end of Catching Fire, however, it turns out she’s just a pawn that the real ringleaders have been using to rally the districts. She was left totally in the dark. After they do reveal their game plan, they ask her to be their leader, but she’s not calling any shots.
All she needs to do is stand in front of a camera and look pretty.
OK, I know she actually has to look angry and act war-like on camera. And I’m aware that she’s only chosen as the Mockingjay because of the gumption she showed in the first arena. But still, for a story about a girl who starts a revolution, neither she nor any of the other female characters are great role models. Johanna is crazier than Katniss (granted, it’s for legitimate reasons like being tortured for months), Katniss’s mother basically abandoned her children a few years before, and Coin is a power-hungry youknowwhat. What empowering women.
AND THE UGLY
Katniss Everdeen is a class-A idiot.
Instead of maximizing what leadership potential her Mockingjay position does have, she acts like a child. It seems like all she can do is scream, wallow, and (sort of) follow orders.
When opportunity literally falls in her lap via a Holo (a “glorified map” reserved for squad leaders), she does take action, leading the charge to assassinate President Snow. But this isn’t some grand display of bravery. She only wants to fulfill her own immature lust for revenge, placing others’ lives at risk in the process.
And then there’s the whole love triangle. Katniss is the stereotypical female, stringing two suitors along as she pleases because she’s too dumb to make up her mind. Peeta is sweet, but Gale is a real man. Whatever shall I do?
She’s Scarlett O’Hara minus the Southern gowns.
Katniss ultimately rejects Gale because his disregard for human life may or may not have led to Prim’s death. But later, Katniss approves of Coin’s idea to hold one more Hunger Games with the government’s children as punishment. Then she executes Coin without even asking someone else’s opinion much less giving her a fair trial. So much for the value of life.
She winds up with Peeta, but it doesn’t feel like she chooses him. It more like he’s the last one standing. She even compares him to a dandelion. Is there really no other flower to choose besides the weed that lawn enthusiasts wipe out with chemicals every spring?
Maybe that’s realistic, that experienced adults instead of a 17-year-old lead a nation to freedom. Maybe it’s sensible to settle for a man who understands you even if you’re not in love. Maybe it’s natural to go insane when you lose everything. But young people, especially girls, need a real heroine. They need someone who can set personal trouble aside to focus on the task at hand. They need someone who holds out for the best guy even if that means she’s alone. They need someone who can battle in a man’s world and win.
If I ever have a daughter, The Hunger Games trilogy is going on the list of books I’d prefer she not read, right after Snow White.
THE GOOD
The Hunger Games trilogy is a relevant read for teens coming of age in an era when technology is revamping warfare. Panem is a grim picture of what the future might hold if this trend is left unchecked. The prosperous, high-tech Capitol uses little hand-to-hand combat, opting instead for long-distance weapons like muttations, genetically-engineered animals that are trained to kill, but only after a little psychological torture. They also utilize pods, defense mechanisms that can do anything from trap unsuspecting passerby in barbed nets to grind up humans like chicken. These weapons provide maximum enemy casualties without putting the home team at risk. (Sound familiar?)
The way Suzanne Collins depicts the brutal reality of war is perfect—not so gruesome that it gives kids nightmares, but heavy enough to show that taking lives in the name of war is no trivial thing. It also encourages young people to consider a question many adults shrug off: Is war ever the right answer?
THE BAD
People have criticized The Hunger Games for being too much like the Twilight series. But be honest: Twilight was less infuriating. At least Stephanie Meyer didn’t sucker readers into thinking that Bella is some brave heroine. You know she is an airhead with an unhealthy sexual orientation from the start. Katniss, on the other hand, can use a bow. She is a hunter, a rebel who sneaks past the district boundaries to keep her family fed, savvy enough to not only get herself but also a maimed Peeta out of the arena alive. She has all the makings of a revolutionary.
At the end of Catching Fire, however, it turns out she’s just a pawn that the real ringleaders have been using to rally the districts. She was left totally in the dark. After they do reveal their game plan, they ask her to be their leader, but she’s not calling any shots.
All she needs to do is stand in front of a camera and look pretty.
OK, I know she actually has to look angry and act war-like on camera. And I’m aware that she’s only chosen as the Mockingjay because of the gumption she showed in the first arena. But still, for a story about a girl who starts a revolution, neither she nor any of the other female characters are great role models. Johanna is crazier than Katniss (granted, it’s for legitimate reasons like being tortured for months), Katniss’s mother basically abandoned her children a few years before, and Coin is a power-hungry youknowwhat. What empowering women.
AND THE UGLY
Katniss Everdeen is a class-A idiot.
Instead of maximizing what leadership potential her Mockingjay position does have, she acts like a child. It seems like all she can do is scream, wallow, and (sort of) follow orders.
When opportunity literally falls in her lap via a Holo (a “glorified map” reserved for squad leaders), she does take action, leading the charge to assassinate President Snow. But this isn’t some grand display of bravery. She only wants to fulfill her own immature lust for revenge, placing others’ lives at risk in the process.
And then there’s the whole love triangle. Katniss is the stereotypical female, stringing two suitors along as she pleases because she’s too dumb to make up her mind. Peeta is sweet, but Gale is a real man. Whatever shall I do?
She’s Scarlett O’Hara minus the Southern gowns.
Katniss ultimately rejects Gale because his disregard for human life may or may not have led to Prim’s death. But later, Katniss approves of Coin’s idea to hold one more Hunger Games with the government’s children as punishment. Then she executes Coin without even asking someone else’s opinion much less giving her a fair trial. So much for the value of life.
She winds up with Peeta, but it doesn’t feel like she chooses him. It more like he’s the last one standing. She even compares him to a dandelion. Is there really no other flower to choose besides the weed that lawn enthusiasts wipe out with chemicals every spring?
Maybe that’s realistic, that experienced adults instead of a 17-year-old lead a nation to freedom. Maybe it’s sensible to settle for a man who understands you even if you’re not in love. Maybe it’s natural to go insane when you lose everything. But young people, especially girls, need a real heroine. They need someone who can set personal trouble aside to focus on the task at hand. They need someone who holds out for the best guy even if that means she’s alone. They need someone who can battle in a man’s world and win.
If I ever have a daughter, The Hunger Games trilogy is going on the list of books I’d prefer she not read, right after Snow White.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Summer Recap
It’s been six months since my last post. For the sake of my mental health, it’s time to stop the self-deprecation by either deleting this blog or updating it. So, here’s a summer recap.
MAY
- Visited the homeland
When I landed in Chicago, the heartland of America. Josh and I fell silent and took in the . . . magnitude . . . of everyone before he turned to me and said, “Is it just me or--”
“Yes,” I interrupted. “Everyone looks giant.”
Turns out, the idea that Asians are short is just a stereotype. Americans, on the other hand, are about three times bigger than is natural.
Many people asked if we plan to return to the US, and I said yes. I love Taiwan, but there’s something tiresome about always being the foreigner. As accepting as people are, as assuring as it is to save double what we did in Boston without even trying, as easy as it is to get from metropolis to mountain range to sea coast, I feel displaced. Not quite like a fish out of water – more like a cockroach in the sunlight. I can’t fully communicate with people in their native language, or talk about books or Dexter in the same way, or correctly order dry noodles instead of soup noodles.
Still, when we landed in Taiwan, I felt at home. When I sat down at my desk on my first day back at work, I realized that I could live here for the rest of my life and be perfectly content. But in the US, among friends and family and with the right job, I can be fulfilled.
Of course, being the fattest female I see on a regular basis over here could have something to do with that.
JUNE
- Competed in the Dragon Boat Festival race
My mother erupted into side-splitting laughter over this. Let’s just say, physical exertion has never been my forte. And it was intense — two-hour trainings four times a week – but developing arm muscles was thrilling. Not that I have them anymore, but it was fun while it lasted.
We finished 15th out of 84 teams in the first heat. Not too shabby.
- Celebrated Josh and I’s third wedding anniversary (!!!)
We went to Flavors, a Swedish restaurant, which is the first place we’ve dropped over US$100 on a meal since leaving Boston. But it was well worth it just to see Josh do snapas (i.e. shots and raw fish).
JULY
- Finished two textbooks and (almost) all of their accompanying materials
Summer is supposed to be a time of fun in the sun and tequila, but for me, work has been an ever-present demand. (In fact, when I reminded my head editor I’d be leaving for the States a few weeks before my departure date, I had to remind her that $1300 non-refundable flight tickets are absolute, regardless of met or unmet work deadlines.) Last week, I was under the delusion that we were done writing, editing, and proofing all the materials—student books, teacher’s guides, interactive CD-roms, quizzes, and worksheets—until my boss announced we had one thing left: test-writing. Which I’ve discovered is pretty much the worst thing about educational publishing. But all in all, it’s a satisfying job.
- Went to the Hohaiyan Rock Festival on Fulong Beach
The highlight: 320,000 people on a two-mile strip of beach jamming, with plenty of Taiwan Beer and food vendors to go along. I was so busy having fun I didn’t take pictures.
The downside: our group camped, which was cool, except we stayed up until 3:00 and half the campground was awake at 5:00, which was not cool.
- Finished the Hunger Games trilogy
More on that later. Hint: Katniss Everdeen is a class-A idiot.
AUGUST
- Enjoying my first typhoon holiday today
Other than a blown-out screen and lack of water pressure, no catastrophes here. We’re passing our rain-induced isolation by watching the Olympics and showering in the rain.
And now I’m off to watch the 1974 Chinatown and drink wine out of my coffee mug. This day keeps getting better.
MAY
- Visited the homeland
When I landed in Chicago, the heartland of America. Josh and I fell silent and took in the . . . magnitude . . . of everyone before he turned to me and said, “Is it just me or--”
“Yes,” I interrupted. “Everyone looks giant.”
Turns out, the idea that Asians are short is just a stereotype. Americans, on the other hand, are about three times bigger than is natural.
Many people asked if we plan to return to the US, and I said yes. I love Taiwan, but there’s something tiresome about always being the foreigner. As accepting as people are, as assuring as it is to save double what we did in Boston without even trying, as easy as it is to get from metropolis to mountain range to sea coast, I feel displaced. Not quite like a fish out of water – more like a cockroach in the sunlight. I can’t fully communicate with people in their native language, or talk about books or Dexter in the same way, or correctly order dry noodles instead of soup noodles.
Still, when we landed in Taiwan, I felt at home. When I sat down at my desk on my first day back at work, I realized that I could live here for the rest of my life and be perfectly content. But in the US, among friends and family and with the right job, I can be fulfilled.
Of course, being the fattest female I see on a regular basis over here could have something to do with that.
JUNE
- Competed in the Dragon Boat Festival race
My mother erupted into side-splitting laughter over this. Let’s just say, physical exertion has never been my forte. And it was intense — two-hour trainings four times a week – but developing arm muscles was thrilling. Not that I have them anymore, but it was fun while it lasted.
We finished 15th out of 84 teams in the first heat. Not too shabby.
- Celebrated Josh and I’s third wedding anniversary (!!!)
We went to Flavors, a Swedish restaurant, which is the first place we’ve dropped over US$100 on a meal since leaving Boston. But it was well worth it just to see Josh do snapas (i.e. shots and raw fish).
JULY
- Finished two textbooks and (almost) all of their accompanying materials
Summer is supposed to be a time of fun in the sun and tequila, but for me, work has been an ever-present demand. (In fact, when I reminded my head editor I’d be leaving for the States a few weeks before my departure date, I had to remind her that $1300 non-refundable flight tickets are absolute, regardless of met or unmet work deadlines.) Last week, I was under the delusion that we were done writing, editing, and proofing all the materials—student books, teacher’s guides, interactive CD-roms, quizzes, and worksheets—until my boss announced we had one thing left: test-writing. Which I’ve discovered is pretty much the worst thing about educational publishing. But all in all, it’s a satisfying job.
- Went to the Hohaiyan Rock Festival on Fulong Beach
The highlight: 320,000 people on a two-mile strip of beach jamming, with plenty of Taiwan Beer and food vendors to go along. I was so busy having fun I didn’t take pictures.
The downside: our group camped, which was cool, except we stayed up until 3:00 and half the campground was awake at 5:00, which was not cool.
- Finished the Hunger Games trilogy
More on that later. Hint: Katniss Everdeen is a class-A idiot.
AUGUST
- Enjoying my first typhoon holiday today
Other than a blown-out screen and lack of water pressure, no catastrophes here. We’re passing our rain-induced isolation by watching the Olympics and showering in the rain.
And now I’m off to watch the 1974 Chinatown and drink wine out of my coffee mug. This day keeps getting better.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Year of the Dragon
Setting a trend – We pitched our tent on a beach rather than a campground. (Who wants to pay US$3/night for something that can be done for free?) Ours was the sole tent at first, but there was a small neighborhood staked down by the time we left.
Waking up to the sound of waves rolling over the shore, a mere 10 yards away from my feet
Overcoming my fear of falling off a bicycle – Learning to ride my bike as a child was downright terrifying. Since becoming legally able to operate a car or navigate public transportation, I’ve been on a bike fewer times that I’ve held a tarantula at the county fair. The last time I did ride a bike, I ran into a restaurant’s outdoor seating area right before swerving into a parked car. (Oh, the beauty of biking in Cambridge.) But this week, a rented bicycle was my main method of transportation—and I only hit one traffic cone.
Seeing two monkeys in the wild (!!!!!!)
Snorkeling, Taiwan style – You wear stiff booties rather than flippers so you kick in a cycling motion to propel yourself through the water, which is hardly efficient. I averaged like nine yards an hour. But the coral and tropical fish I saw in those 18 yards were exquisite.
Sticking my foot in my snorkeling bootie to feel a small inhabitant squirming in protest against my intruding toes – The owner of the snorkeling gear store noticed my frantic attempts to get my bootie off and briskly yanked it off herself, then caught the jumbo cockroach that shot out in mid-air. The roach’s fate: she pinched that sucker so hard its guts went kablooey all over her hand.
Being called lihai (translation: awesome) after literally falling over a laundry basket laughing about the cockroach-in-bootie incident – Apparently, this happens frequently and other customers don’t respond with amusement.
Fitting the risqué American girl stereotype for the first time ever, on two occasions – 1) Seeing as we were camping, I washed off using a public beach shower. Even though I’m assuming this shower was intended for use, the American girl lathering up in her swimsuit scandalized everyone. 2) One of the food vendors sold penis-shaped cookies. How could I resist?
The week’s grand finale: The Lantern Festival in Pingxi – The Lantern Festival is a time to celebrate the new year by writing your wishes on a giant lantern and flying it off to the heavens. My wishes:
$ for me!!!!!! (I was informed it’s basically mandatory to wish for this.)
Peace for my family
Carpe diem!
Happy year of the dragon!