Road Trip - Taipei & Yilan Counties

As you may have seen on FB, Josh and I purchased a motorcycle a few weeks ago. The first drive through Taipei’s hectic traffic alongside monster buses and hordes of scooters was literally heart-stopping. But there’s nothing more refreshing than taking Rodney (Yes, I named it.) for a spin outside of the city, zipping through clean mountain gusts and fresh ocean breezes. Two weekends ago, we took a road trip through Yilan county, and it was incredible!

To beat it out of the city, we took Provincial Highway 9. This road cuts through some breathtaking mountains.

At some points, we were so high that we were literally driving above the mountains’ cloud cover.

And of course, there were some impressive temples to see along the way.

Hwy 9 connects to Provincial Highway 2, which is renowned for spectacular coastal views. It didn’t disappoint.

There are several fishing villages sprinkled along the coast that make for a great pit stop. We alighted in Dali and got a tub of fried seafood for $100 NT. It was scrumptious. And seeing as we lived in Boston before this, we’re pretty much fried seafood connoisseurs.

The fishing market we ate at overlooked the docks, and you could see fishermen lugging their wares up the hill and selling them to the stand owners right in front of us. This stuff was FRESH.

Here’s the map!

Or at least, that’s the route you’re supposed to take. Scooters and motorcycles under 550 c.c. are not allowed to drive on major highways in Taiwan. We knew this – kind of – but still wound up taking the 62 expressway back to Taipei. It was an accident – kind of. Do not do this. The police will stop you, and you will have to resort to acting like dumb American tourists to avoid a ticket. Or maybe we weren’t really acting. After all, we are amateurs.

Herb and Dorothy

Last May, I attended BookExpo America in New York, NY, a glorious four-day convention for everyone in the book biz. I was working the event for Godine, the house I interned with this spring, and one of our debut titles was Miss Etta and Dr. Claribel, an illustrated book about Etta and Claribel Cone, who purchased Matisse’s and Picasso’s work before they were discovered by mainstream collectors. One author who dropped by our booth recognized the cover’s illustration of the Cone sisters, which surprised me, seeing as no one I pitched the book to had heard of them. We got to chatting, and I commented that I wished I had the resources to collect art. She enthusiastically replied, “But you can!” She proceeded to tell me about Herb and Dorothy, a documentary about a Manhattan couple who, without any professional training, amassed a selection of art worth millions. “Watch it,” she said. “It’ll change your life.”

Well, I just watched it. Twice. Consider my life changed.

At first glance, Herb and Dorothy Vogel seem like your average elderly couple. In many of the film’s shots, they sit at the kitchen table, Herb watching TV and Dorothy fussing over her cat, Archie. But the backdrop for these scenes is anything but commonplace. The otherwise stark white wall is canvassed in paintings, sketches, and colorful paper constructions. As the camera pans through their one-bedroom apartment, you realize their place doesn’t function as a living space – it’s a sanctuary for thousands of artistic creations. They don’t own living room furniture because their stockpile takes up too much space, hence the filming in the kitchen. The real mind-boggler is that this isn’t even their full collection. They donated 4,782 pieces to the National Gallery of Art in 1992. The pieces you glimpse in the film are just what they’ve acquired since then.

Throughout the documentary, Herb and Dorothy narrate their life story. Dorothy was a librarian and Herb a postal worker who didn’t graduate high school. So how does a middle-class couple come to own one of the most renowned late 20th century art collections? By buying art no one else wanted.

Herb and Dorothy explain that when they started collecting in the 1960s, pop and abstract art were the popular styles, and experts weren’t interested in the fledgling minimalist and conceptual movements, making these productions affordable. They spent Dorothy’s salary on living expenses and Herb’s on art. Dorothy said they only had two rules for purchases: “It had to be affordable, and it had to fit in our apartment.”

The artists interviewed in the film speak not only highly of Herb and Dorothy, but also warmly, as if talking about life-long friends. And for some of them, that’s the case. A few artists said they get a call from Herb once a week just checking in on them, and one referred to them as “friend collectors, not collectors collectors.” Christo and Jean-Claude, an artist team-couple, said they even traded the Vogels art for cat-sitting. It’s inspiring too that they genuinely collect art for art’s sake. Dorothy said, “I never thought the artists we collected in those days would become so famous. It wasn’t a goal for us. We liked the work, and when they got recognition, we shared their joy. We sort of became of part of it.”

But the documentary’s point isn’t that everyone can collect art or even that everyone should learn about art. The message is more universal than that. Dorothy says it best herself: “You don’t have to be rich. You can enrich your life.”

You can watch Herb and Dorothy for yourself here: Herb and Dorothy
And check out Miss Etta and Dr. Claribel here: Miss Etta and Dr. Claribel

Since moving to Taipei, something’s been bugging me, and I feel the need to mention it: Americans are way too concerned about “protecting” their native language.

In Taipei, many people speak English, even though their island society could function just fine without it. But in an attempt to market themselves to the Western world, they learn. Not only do they learn, but they also use their knowledge to help little lost foreign girls (exhibit 1: me). I’m never standing on a street corner looking perplexedly at a map for long before a local is at my elbow, offering to help. What makes this even more indulgent of them is that Americans are not their first, not their second, but only the third largest group of international visitors in Taiwan. In other words, they’re not assisting me for the tourism revenue; they’re just doing it to be nice. In fact, out of deference to English-speaking foreigners, many signs are in English. (And by “many signs,” I mean every sign related to public transportation or any road sign.) I can count on one hand the number of times someone here has gotten frustrated with my inability to communicate. The first time it happened, I have to admit, I was offended. But I mean, I guess I am living in their country, eating their food, earning a salary from a local business. It’s only fair that I learn their language.

And then I realized that those lines sounded familiar.

Oh yeah. It’s like, every American’s mantra about Spanish-speaking immigrants.

I’ve never bought into the whole let’s-make-English-the-national-language battle. But now that I’m experiencing the foreigner’s side, I realize just how miserly that mentality is. If native Chinese speakers can learn English, which is an overwhelmingly dissimilar language, I think Americans can learn some basic Spanish. Despite the fact that the U.S. was built on the backs of immigrants, we can’t subtitle a few simple road signs in Spanish? We begrudge them the Mexican bakery that now fills the empty building down the street? We refer to any neighborhood populated by Latin Americans as “the bad part of town”? Please. The most shocking thing is that my Christian friends are the most stringent supporters of this movement. Jesus went through some pretty inconvenient stuff for slaves, for women, for all the outcasts of the day. Shouldn’t we do the same?

For those of you who find it irksome to press 1 for English: stop being selfish in the name of nationalism. If Lady Liberty had pose-able thumbs, she would beat the bejeepers out of you.

Hong Kong Highlights

Due to delays with my Taiwan residency documentation (This has been such a bugger process for me, an American, that I can only imagine the horrors immigrants to the States must face.), I had to leave the country last week, so Josh and I took a five-day trip to Hong Kong. The city blew my mind. While it’d be impossible to narrate all the experiences we had, here are the highlights.

The spectacular views – The landscape of HK was mind-boggling: lofty skyscrapers set against lush mountains, clear ocean, and seemingly uninhabited tiny green islands. HK reminded me of Manhattan, except better – urbanites can escape into nature in a matter of minutes, not hours. Also, riding the Star Ferry across Victoria Harbor for $0.36 USD a pop = priceless.


Drinking a Guinness! – Táiwān Píjǐu may be cheap, but it looks and tastes like water. Which, I discovered during Guinness and I’s reunion, has led to a serious decline in my alcohol tolerance...

Chungking Mansions – We stayed on the cheap in Happy Yeung Guesthouse, one of many hostels in Chungking Mansions, which our Lonely Planet guidebook lists as a sight to see. They weren’t kidding. It’s an entire complex (and by complex, I mean several high-rise buildings, encased in wobbly-looking scaffolding) of low-budget guesthouses, with the ground floor housing various shops and stands. Cell phones, Indian food, money exchangers, saris, magazines – you need it, and you can probably find it down there. Also, back in the day (and by “back in the day” I mean a few years ago), the Mansions were renowned for drug busts and being a fire trap. They’ve cleaned up their act since then, and we stayed in a private room for $13 USD a head per night. For those of you unaccustomed to staying in hostels, that’s the economic equivalent of getting a new couch off the sidewalk.

Gambling in Macau – Neither one us have gambled before. But we took a day trip to Macau, China’s other SAR, glamorous gambling capital of the world, and it seemed silly not to gamble in a city known for gambling. Seeing as we are novices and didn’t want to embarrass ourselves in front of those purple suited card-dealers, we stuck to slot machines. It was horrible. First off, the machine had a minimum of $3 USD, when we only wanted to spend like $10 HK. Then, the directions weren’t helpful at all. Something about getting five picture thingies in a row, which the chances of accomplishing are increased by gambling more credits, which are, of course, purchased with money. For reals?! We had already spent $3! Suffice it to say, we lost.

Dim Sum – I’ve only had the pleasure of consuming this delish southern Chinese cuisine once before, in Boston’s Chinatown, and it was pretty epic then too. Egg custard tarts, steamed BBQ pork buns, or my favorite, sesame buns coated in crushed peanuts – we ate Dim Sum four times in five days. THAT is how scrumptious this stuff is.



Best thing about this trip – we spent about a grand. This may sound expensive, but let’s compare that to a vacation of similar length at any European destination, or even a major city in the U.S. Let’s also consider the fact that HK is one of the most expensive cities on the continent. Traveling in Asia is CHEAP.

In other news, I start my new job on Monday! I’ll be working with an educational publishing company as an editor and English-speaking PR rep. Teaching English, my original employment plan, would have been fun. But not gonna lie, I’m not cut out for teaching – even if Asian kids are pretty adorable.

Taiwan - Finally!

When Rachelle and Brittany, two friends from my hometown, returned from a two-week trip to China this summer, I asked them to give me the low-down on Asia. Out of the many tidbits they shared, the point they emphasized the most was that generally, bathroom facilities are not equipped with toilets. Instead, they use “squatty-potties,” which are basically porcelain-coated holes in the ground into which you relieve yourself. At first, I assumed they were exaggerating. Or, at the very least, this couldn’t be an Asia-wide standard. After all, Josh had been living in Taiwan for six weeks, and surely would have thought to mention such a…umm…cultural difference.

They were not exaggerating. And Taiwanese bathrooms absolutely include squatty-potties.

I first experienced these in the Tokyo airport bathrooms during my layover. The stalls were labeled “American Style” and “Japanese Style,” which instantly raised a red flag. Feeling a little panicky, I nudged open a “Japanese Style” stall…and proceeded to stand awkwardly in the doorway, my mouth gaping open at the rounded-rectangle of porcelain set into the floor. Why had Josh not warned me of this?! I could have spent part of the summer practicing, you know, doing squats and lunges and stuff. This isn’t a huge deal (I tried to reason with myself), but it does affect an activity I do multiple times a day, not to mention a significant muscle group. Surely he would have also found this a bit unusual and made some sort of comment. I mean, good Lord, Rachelle and Brittany couldn’t stop talking about it.

Then I remembered: he’s a man. I’m not passing judgment; it’s just that peeing on the ground makes things more convenient, and actually, the porcelain is an added luxury.

Although, when I asked Josh why he didn’t mention it (Yes, I asked. Quite indignantly, in fact.), he made an excellent point: it’s pretty gross to sit on a toilet, seeing as God knows how many people’s butts have been planted in that exact spot.

So yeah. I just dedicated a substantial part of my first blog post about Taiwan to the particulars of using the toilet. I can sense my mother’s horror from here.

Despite the squatty-potty issue (Which, by the way, is a horrible term, obviously created by some vulgar American.), Taiwan has been an amazing experience thus far. The Taiwanese are uber friendly, and there is so much to do and see – dazzling temples, beautiful jungle hikes, lively night markets… Plus eating has become my new favorite hobby. Dumplings are the bomb, shaved ice/fruit desserts are delish AND hydrating, and bubble milk tea is literally manna from heaven. Seriously, I wouldn’t be surprised if researchers someday discover that “milk and honey” stuff the Israelites were raving about was really milk tea.

Also, I discovered a website that streams 30 Rock for free in Taiwan, so basically I’m all set on American TV. Tina Fey is just funny – it doesn’t matter where you are.

100 Mile Fitness Challenge!

I'm flaky when it comes to consistent exercising. And when I say "flaky," I mean I exercise every day, obsessively so, for one week. Then the next, I spend the time that was allotted to exercise eating Cheez-Its. So I'm taking the 100 Miles Fitness Challenge! 100 miles isn't much, but if I can accumulate those miles on a regular basis before September 1st, that would be quite the personal accomplishment.

Hopefully this won't turn out to be completely humiliating...

Berry Baking

I love baking. It's therapeutic to use a hand-beater, roll dough into cookies, or lightly boil a berry sauce (while stirring continuously). And today, while baking, I realized I've never blogged about this particular hobby. So, here 'tis.

Today's bout of baking was inspired by visiting Thunderbird Berry Farm this morning to pick blueberries with my mom and younger brother, Joshie. (Picking berries - also therapeutic)

With 8 pounds of fresh, sun-warmed blueberries strewn about the kitchen, I felt compelled to bake something! I chose Blueberry Oat Bars from allrecipes.com, which is my go-to baking/cooking website. These were scrumptious! An all-around hit.

But something else I realized today: I alter every recipe, sometimes beyond recognition. Here are the changes I made to this recipe:
1) substitute 1 cup whole wheat flour & 1/2 cup all-purpose flour for 1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour;
2) substitute 1 cup brown sugar for 1 1/2 cups white sugar;
3) add 1/2 tsp. of cinnamon;
4) double the amount of berries from 2 cups to 4 cups;
5) and use blueberries AND blackberries!

And voilà!

Please note: photography is not one of my hobbies.