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.

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.

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.

Year of the Dragon

My Lunar New Year holiday started with a series of failures. The plan was to drive our motorcycle to a local friend's house to share a traditional New Year's meal with his family and spend the rest of the week checking out wild hot springs. After waking up late, over-packing, torrential rain, and a near motorcycle wipe-out, we nixed that idea. Instead, we shelled out for two high speed rail tickets and made a dash for the rays of Kenting Beach. Pay-offs are as follows.

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!

A Taiwan Christmas

Josh and I didn’t make it to the States for Christmas. The realities of airfare cost and a work deadline for me deterred us from that Christmas miracle. But even though the holiday was different from traditional family Yules of old, it was bright and merry all the same.

*Our Christmas tree, giving Charlie Brown’s a run for its money

We haven’t cooked much in our 6 x 4 kitchen, seeing as it doesn’t hold much more than its single burner and a water boiler. But we were set on having blueberry pancakes for Christmas breakfast. Locals don’t seem too keen on baking, so to obtain ingredients, we dropped by one of the city’s international grocery stores—C!ty Super. They stock everything from spicy Mexican salsa to Swiss cheese that's actually from Switzerland. And two days before the big day. . .well, as Josh put it, “Got foreigners?” Despite the crowds, we found everything on our list, but baking powder is pretty hard to describe when the only related word you know in Chinese is bake and the only English word the staff knows is cake. Three different employees had to powwow before determining what it was we needed. But that’s the beauty of the Taiwanese—they don’t give up until they’ve helped you.

Christmas Eve’s main events were 1) taking ol’ Rodney (our motorcycle) out for a spin and screaming Merry Christmas! at every passerby and 2) attending the Holy Family Catholic Church for midnight mass (or rather, the English service held at 10). It was the first English church service I’ve attended since moving here, so I was excited to be able to fully participate. It was pretty great until I passed out during the homily.

*People buzzing outside the church - including a female SANTA!

Sunday morning we put that baking powder to delicious use and exchanged gifts. I supported Josh’s beer snobbery with a few imported brews while he fed my Tina Fey obsession with a 30 Rock mug displaying a quote from the show.

Liz: Why are you in a tux?
Jack: It’s after 6pm. What am I, a farmer?

While dinner was far from my mom’s traditional Christmas fare of ham and yams, it was delish. We tried a new restaurant called Nonzero Kitchen, which is reputed for its simple healthy cooking. We splurged on a set meal apiece—nutty bread with olive oil, salad dressed in the restaurant's own balsamic vinegar, creamy nutmeg soup, risotto topped with scallops, and a fruit and cake tray for dessert. The style was modish too—multi-colored wood paneling, mismatched wooden tables and chairs, and a middle-aged hipster sporting a red head scarf wandering around.

*Dessert platter

But perhaps best of all, the shoes I recently purchased for an animal print-themed birthday party doubled as festive Christmas flats. Not gonna lie, they pretty much made my outfit.

8 Things I Hate About You

Dedicated to Taiwan, my super cool country-of-residence

I hate the way you drizzle all day
And the way it ruins my boots
I hate the way you have hordes of ants
And how they eat my fruits

I hate your big dumb mosquitoes
And the way they chomp on my flesh
I hate your jungles for causing me to sniffle
And making my allergies a mess

I hate the way your climate is humid
And how that makes my house dusty
I hate it when you make my clothes mold
Even worse when you turn my pots rusty

I hate that your sky is usually hazy
And the fact your locals consider me tall
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you
Not even close. . .
Not even a little bit. . .
Not even at all

PS - My clothes really are molding though.

I hate going to the doctor. This isn’t an original aversion, I know, but it developed when I was a kid. I was sick with the flu, and my mom asked me if I wanted to go to the doctor. This freedom of decision had never been granted me before, so it warranted the following thoughtful reasoning: change out of my Beauty & the Beast jammies to drive 20 minutes to the pediatrician’s office to sit in the waiting room for 30 minutes to have the doctor with cold hands reeking of sterilization jab me in the stomach and poke coarse wooden sticks down my throat to determine that yes, I did have the flu so I should drive back home to take Tylenol out of Mom’s medicine cabinet.

No sugar-free sucker is worth that.

Since then, I’ve been to the doctor a handful of times. In Boston, a doctor with no ethical qualms about calling in prescriptions for his friends lived in my building, so I only had to schlep myself up the stairs to receive medical attention.

But then we moved here, and my body decided it’s too wussy to adjust to Taiwan’s autumn without an illness. I tried tricking it into feeling better by still going to work, but my manager sent me home because I “wasn’t in my right mind.” Here, however, there is no hassle-free prescription connection. There is no mother to enforce a doctor’s visit. Josh tried, but he lacks the iron fist. He is, however, a gifted nagger, so after a few days, I relented.

I still don’t enjoy going to the doctor, but I love Taiwanese healthcare.

Upon entering Wanfang Hospital, located just a short drive down our mountain, I was greeted by the intrinsically healing aroma of fresh bread and coffee, wafting from the bakery and neighboring Starbucks next to the door. (My initial thought was, “Why can’t they have these installed in US hospitals? Then it wouldn’t be so obnoxious to visit sick friends.” Then my conscience fainted.) I walked up to the registration desk, in clear sight of the entrance, and was asked to fill out one sheet of paperwork. The process took five minutes, despite the fact that I didn’t have a Taiwan ID yet and thus, wasn’t registered for national health insurance.

The clinic was a quick escalator ride upstairs. The doctor saw me after 15 minutes, fluently examined me in English, and diagnosed me with the flu. But instead of offering lame advice I could find on WebMD, he prescribed three different types of medication: an antibiotic, pain killers, and cough medicine. When I reminded him that coughing wasn’t one of my symptoms, he responded, “I know. But you’ll start.” And he was right. I still sound like a chain smoker. Pre-emptive prescriptions—love it.

There was even more to love. The pharmacy was downstairs. Plus the prescriptions were ready by the time I arrived at the desk. Then I simply paid at the cashier’s desk for both the appointment and drugs. Total: $11.54 USD. And that’s without health insurance.

Let’s compare this to the experience a Taiwanese girl I met had with US healthcare. She was in the States with no health insurance, got sick, went to the hospital, was treated rudely by the staff due to her poor English (which I had no difficulty understanding), and was then sent a bill totaling $1,200 USD. She couldn’t afford this astronomical fee and had to leave the country.

If this be socialism, let socialism be served.