Light Speed to Hualien

At last, a moment to freely wiggle my fingers across the keyboard to regail you with some Taiwan tales. It is, of course, Saturday, and I did, of course, work today- selling my soul and Caucasian appeal to prospective new parents- and it is, of course, another dreary Winter day.

To be honest, I'm a little tired of it. I have something like cabin fever, because here in Taiwan, if the weather is bad, your options are limited. Very limited. Drive your scooter? It seems like bad weather makes the roads even more unsafe. Go hiking? Not if you don't want a nice, soggy self to drag home on none other than your trusty scooter. Go to Taipei? Maybe not. It's got to be the weather that's got me down, so let me tell you about another time that was a bit brighter!

A fed Caitlin is a tolerable Caitlin.

Hualien: the East Coast of Taiwan.

James and I were lucky enough to receive a very thoughtful wouldn't-buy-it-for-myself-but-awfully-glad-you-did gift from James' family - a full day trip to the East Coast of Taiwan. Hualien is raved about as the outdoor mecca for people who love to look at pretty things in nature, and we didn't have to coordinate any of it.

So at the bright hour of 6AM, we hopped in a cab to a bus to the Taipei Airport where we met with a jolly tour guide coordinator who nearly threw us on a tiny 40 seat plane. Kudos (or Judos, as I originally typed) to Mandarin Air, which, even in a 40 minute flight, managed to toss us some green tea. And they have very pretty purple silk scarves!

Arriving with the SUN in Hualien was a very pleasant experience. Even though we had just come back from gorgeous, not weather-challenged Thailand, it was a shock for us to see the sun in our surrogate home country. Albeit, it was intermittent sun. But beggars can't be choosers.

On with the tour: we board the bus with...let's call her Sandy (although heck, it could have been Katrina, or Julie, or Gertrude) a jolly Taiwanese tour guide who fantastically is fluent in Chinese, Taiwanese, English and Japanese. And she loves puns, like "gorgeous gorges." Sandy gives us a bit of humorous dialogue against a backdrop of green tropical hills (though in front is an unimpressive boulevard lined with betelnut trees, scrap metel yards, and small gardens fertilized with garbage.

Into the mountains we drive. It really is "gorge-ous," mostly due to the blue-grey striated rock formations and marble boulders. Truly, I've never seen anything like it, and because I am a Kenney child, I have seen a lot of rocks and a lot of boulders. If that statement makes no sense to you, please refer to my father, Pat Kenney, Boy Scout Troop 89.

Dealing with a "Falling rock situation."

We stop several times (which is great for my bus sickness on the windy roads, no sarcasm needed,) at different scenic views. One place is where birds live in the rocks, one is where the big rock looks like an alligator, or perhaps a bear, or a rabbit (Sandy loves animal rocks), and the best part is getting to wear a hardhat while walking through Taroko tunnels. "We have a falling rock situation" Sandy tells us. She is so multilinguistically wise. On the bus, off the bus, on the bus, off the bus! Phew!

We are absolutely Hualien-famished by the time we reach lunch at a pricey (though totally included in the tour- AWESOME!) Aboriginal restaurant, shoveling down fish and bamboo rice and mushrooms and delightfully, rice wine. Outside, the cherry blossoms are starting to show their beautiful little heads, and it charms me. But QUICK! Back on the bus!

Off we go to a Hualien sweets shop, where we are able to sample just about everything, and everything is delicious except for the unlabeled "cookie" that turns out to be squid. Back on the bus!

We are taken to a "Marble Museum," which sounds interesting enough, except that in this case the word "Museum" means "Please come inside where we will tell you about marble and jade for five minutes and then take you into our showroom, where we would like you to purchase as many items as you are financially able. If you resist we will not make it easy for you. We will follow you everywhere you go, telling you that you would look beautiful wearing this shiny bauble or whatnot. And if you still don't buy anything, we will glare at you until you feel guilty. Xie Xie."

Enjoying the fresh air of freedom from jewelry vendors.

Back on the bus! We finally make it to the beach, which though devoid of gorges, is completely gorgeous. You never quite realize how big the Pacific Ocean is until you realize that your family is hanging out somewhere on the other side of it. We poke around and watch Taiwanese enjoy their Sunday, throwing tennis balls to their beautiful dogs, or maybe riding bikes along the shoreline. No sooner than we saw a goofy teenager hit a rock on his bicycle and fly into the grass (much to the amusement of his friends), it was back on the bus!

The train ride is a treat in itself, skirting the entire Northeast coast. Three hours later, we toot toot into Taoyuan, bussed out, and run into the nearest mall for some Korean stone rice pot and a bit of reflection. We love the mountains, we love new things, and even at light speed, it wasn't too bad!

I see you, California!

And we even managed to resist the maniacal Marble Museum vendors.

Live From Taiwan: The OSCARS!

And coming to you live...9:00AM from my television - the Oscars. It's Monday and I'm seated comfortably in my second hand red chair, about to enjoy all the goodness that Hollywood has to offer.

No Blue Monday here! It's a public holiday in Taiwan (a very rare event - there are only about 5 in the whole year.) Today remembers 2.28, a day when Chiang Kai Shek's military government killed a massive number of Taiwanese in the south, an event started over a street cigarette vendor evading cigarette selling taxes. Not to be too callous, because those who know me know I love a good opportunity to delve into history, but I plan on using this day of remembrance to make some memories of my own, beginning with my television date.

As with you, I'm sure, many questions pop into my head when I watch this extravagant annual evening. Here are mine:

Why does Christian Bale sound like an Aussie and look like Wolverine?

Identity crisis. He really does think he's Batman.

Is James Franco high?

Definitely.

Were people in the USA allowed to hear Melissa Leo drop the F-bomb during her acceptance speech?

I doubt it, but I heard it loud and clear.


Why wasn't Kirk Douglas invited to host the entire awards ceremony?

No idea, but I wish he had.

And....She's Back!

Ladies and gentlemen, I hope your eyes are ready for another six months of spontaneous posts from abroad. I have lined up my ducks, I have polished my shoes, I have braced myself and am now ready to return to work in the "new year" to finish what I started.

But first, my holiday:

Thailand


James and I must have been undergoing some major trip planning stress when we decided to book our flights, somehow deciding to delight ourselves with a six hour layover (in the middle of the night) in Singapore. And I mean, this was a total gem of an idea, which we handled beautifully by sleeping on the cushions at McDonalds. (And James handled by eating no fewer than two meals, being as I don't generally thrill at the idea of fast food at home.)

But when we touched down in Phuket, it was immediately what we wanted: hot. It was hot and humid and didn't smell like petrol. We grabbed a taxi and were immediately introduced to freaking scary Thai cab driving. This was an experience we had no fewer than three times over 10 days. You know when you're playing a racing car game on the computer, or in a video game? And the car sometimes swerves violently in and out of traffic (because in a game, it isn't real cars) and you laugh because you're driving unreasonably fast and sometimes you have to stop completely abruptly and you might run into something?

Yes, it's a lot like that. (No bumps or bruises, only a bit of fear.)

Aside from being driven batty by drivers, what is Thailand like?
This will be illustrated using the five human senses:

What does Thailand look like?


It looks left alone. Like one day, the Thai people of Phuket area decided to build some lovely colonial houses, and some streets, and some pancake vendor carts, and then...leave it alone for a very long time. It's rustic. And it looks like lots of people are trying to sell you stuff, but the good news is, it's cool stuff, and it's cheap!
But the sunsets are also fabulous, especially because you can enjoy them while also looking at/drinking a  $3 mojito and possibly getting a holistic Thai beach massage by a woman who bends you and twists you and man almighty, is it awesome. It looks like that.

What does Thailand smell like? 


It smells like curry. OK, maybe not curry, but there is curry everywhere. Maybe it smells like the smell garbage/brush fires there are on the islands. Maybe it smells a little like coconuts. Either way, it smells delicious.

What does Thailand feel like?


Let's talk specifics. The air feels sticky. The rice also feels sticky. My new giant Thai pants feel soft and silky. The sand feels fine and warm, while the beer bottles feel cold. The red road dirt feels dirty, but not as dirty as brown dirt. The sheets smell lovely, and the water somehow isn't too salty.

What does Thailand sound like?


It sounds like Swedish and German families laughing while reggae music plays quietly in the background and ice is poured into cocktail glasses and the waves hit the rocky shores and cats meow as Australian male tourists rev their scooter engines and crab scramble away from beach comber feet. In the early morning, it sounds like you're in Iran, because Koh Lanta and Koh Jum are both Muslim islands and therefore enjoy a good Arabic chant over a loudspeaker about five times a day. (It's surprisingly easier to digest than the weird blasting horns the Buddhists drive around on trucks in TaoYuan at 7:00 on a Saturday morning.) At night, when it's time to sleep, it sounds like cicadas and grasshoppers (possibly also singing in Arabic) and it's delightful to sleep.

What does Thailand taste like?

Banana Pancake, of course.

I've got four words for you that I will combine into one long word of overwhelming deliciousness: if you go to Southern Thailand, you must eat bananapancakescoconutshakes. I bet you thought I was going to rave about the curry, didn't you? Well, let me then rave about the curry: it's amazing. There's nothing you can't cook with coconut, apparently, and make it taste amazing. You can have penang curry or yellow curry or green curry or red curry or King curry or monkey curry or...wait, monkey curry? Maybe not money curry. But we did see monkeys in the trees outside of our bungalow in Koh Jum that probably would have tasted delicious with a side of banana pancake and coconut shake. So yes, curry is fabulous.

But Caitlin, what else did you do besides eat banana pancakes?


The easiest explanation can be found in the following sample itinerary for our vacation:

8:00 - Be awoken to the sound of Muslim songs or jeeps revving
9:00 - Eat breakfast while looking at the ocean
10:00 - Look at the ocean and wonder, what will I do today?

In memory of the coconut shake.

10:15 - Go exploring, on foot or by scooter
1:00 - Eat something delicious
2:00 - Read a book
3:00 - Nap
4:00 - Read more or nap more
4:30 - Swim
5:30 - Happy hour
6:30 - Eat something delicious
9:00 - Walk on the beach
10:00 - Snuggle down

The napping bed.

And as bittersweet as it is to be starting work again tomorrow, I can't help but be shocked and grateful that the sun is shining for the first time in weeks in TaoYuan and that in six months, there will be yet another adventure. For now, it's back to the scooter traffic, language barriers, and something new, everyday.

Are you ready for a new year of blogs?

The Fire Chicken and Asian Driving Stereotypes Confirmed: Merry Christmas!

You probably have been clicking your Reload button on the Caitlin Takes Taiwan webpage for weeks now, wondering when the darn title would change to something new. Well, international fans, the time has come: December in Taiwan.

The past month has been marked by two significant events: the holidays and my scooter accident.

What? You got in a scooter accident? That's horrible!

It's like C3PO being dismembered by a Wookie.

Yes...I would have to rank being thrown into the air after being blindsided by a car as being one of the scarier moments of my life, up there with waiting for college reply letters, watching the series finale of Gilmore Girls, and of course, my previous car accident in front of the Naval Base when I was 18.

The good news: helmets save lives, and heads (in that order.) Though I effectively did a mid-air ninja roll and landed smack dab on my back, my head was snug as Santa Claus' sash in my $25 Asia brand noggin defender.

The better news: the people who hit us knew it was their fault, stopped, took all of our details, paid all of our scooter damages, paid my hospital bill (I've temporarily joined legions of people with constant back pain, though I suspect that time will cure this quite well,), and we even "scored" an extra $300NT out of the deal (about $10 USD) which we used to drown our shock at the bar down the street. Wow, I'm old enough to drown things, hallelujah! I've heard over and over again: you are so lucky! We were lucky to drive our bike away from the scene (said the mechanics), lucky neither of us were seriously injured (said all of the ER staff), and lucky to not have to pay any bills (said everyone else) - because if the police get involved, there will be bills. 


So we were lucky. Though sometimes while trying to teach kindergarten with a bum back does not make me feel particularly lucky...but you know what makes me feel lucky?

Christmas!

It is now the 27th and while most of the Western world is still napping off food comas, I'm back at work. The Christmas vomit that has filled the school for the past month is gone and it hardly seems like it happened at all. My preschoolers brought down their house with a rousing dance to Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You, my Home Room Teacher bought me an ultra-sexy cat purse, I had to play Santa Claus in a "party" for my older students, and virtually had every child in the school sit on my lap and tell me what they wanted for their happy day. That's Christmas in a nutshell. And what did I do most of the blessed day? Sat on Skype, that's what I did. Sat on Skype and ate the turkey that was my Christmas present! Sat on Skype and ate turkey and drank oodles of red wine and ate my very first fruit cake. Don't knock it until you try it; I'm heavy handed on the rum.

Skyping by the Christmas tree - note the festive handmade decorations.

***Note: My 9-10 year old students call turkey "Fire Chicken!" I thought this was terribly clever until I was informed that Chinese for turkey is "huo ji" which is literally "fire chicken." It's still pretty catchy.

Christmas is...uncomfortable in Taiwan. The 7-11 employees wear Christmas hats. All the apartment buildings put up trees. People rent out pontsettias. But there's no caroling or human excitement. Come on. Christmas is exciting. GET EXCITED, TAIWANESE!

Family, friends, high schoolers: this holiday season in the far reaches of Asia (and a part that isn't even autonomously recognised by the UN) I decided that next year, I 'd like to be a bit closer to home for Christmas. You might even see me. Until then, I'm holding my breath until the end of the semester (4 weeks!) and anticipating my trip to Thailand.

Love to you in the New Year? (And PS. Wednesday is my birthday :D)

Sometimes, Not Even Food Solves The Problem

The fact is, I am a Scrooge when it comes to money. I don't like buying things. I don't like buying things I don't need, and I don't like paying more than I absolutely need to for the things I do need.

I keep mental lists of all the places in town it's cheapest to buy things. It's cheapest to buy oatmeal at a mom & pop dry goods store. It's cheapest to buy fruit and vegetables at the big wherehouse market on ZhongZheng. It's cheapest to buy dish soap at the 10 NT shop two blocks from school, and it's cheapest to buy meat at the Welcome market any time after 5:00PM, when they mark it down.

I'm a sucker for a bargain, which is why, when something is not a bargain, my reaction is completely adverse. Enter, last night:

James and I went stomping around for the bus for the mountains, which we discovered is located...DUN DUN DUN...on the other side of the train tracks. We had never been to the other side of the tracks before. It was crazy. It was intimidating. It was Vietnamese and Thai?

Apparently, the other side of the tracks is where all of the Southeast Asian immigrants do their thang. (Or their Trang, or Tran, or Nguyen.) We were so excited because as in the Bay Area, immigrants = good food. After a day of romping in the mountains, we picked out a funky looking Thai place and sat down.

Big uh-oh when the menu was opened and the prices were double the prices at our favorite Thai place on the other side of the tracks. And at the place, the waitress is angelically nice, whereas at this one, the man was mildly stand-offish. I asked if we could leave, and we did. Hungry and stranded in Southeast Asia OZ, we doddled up and down the street, not particularly happy. We walked into a Vietnamese restaurant only because we were tired and ready to eat.

The menu was not only in Chinese but in Vietnamese...which is no help because I don't speak Chinese or Vietnamese. 


This is where the night gets funny, I promise. James found something with beef and rice he wanted to eat, so he ordered it. I was stumped and tried to ask the woman "What do you like to eat?" but somehow she had no idea and just pointed at random things on the menu. I nodded when she found something she said was noodles and vegetables and really good. We crossed our fingers.

Still pretty grumpy from the overpriced Thai menu and wandering around in the dark, that's when the Vietnamese karaoke started. Ear shattering, whiney, and incoherent, the six metrosexual Vietnamese guys sitting at the table across from us were loving it. We sat there in shock, unable to talk about how awful this all was.

The food came to the table. One dish was seafood and rice, and the other was celery and something like greyish ramen noodles. The best part: both dishes had been generously sprinkled with giant pieces of organ meat - hearts, livers, etc. Also greyish. Sweet Gods of Dining, WHY?!?

Have you constructed the visual yet? Grubby restaurant with a group of possibly flamboyant, possibly simply attracted to very outlandish hairstyles, males, screaming Vietnamese karaoke, while the miserable white people choke down their livers and celery.

You just have to laugh sometimes.

Stayin' Alive

But busy as a bee.

I would not like to complain about work, or my health, or my inability to be understood/understand a lot of things.

I am thankful for my two-foot $1.50 Christmas tree, Zippy, and fish to eat.

Looking forward to a lifetime of getting used to a full-time job and the delightful way it makes me too tired to think ;D

Until next time, stay classy.

What We Eat, Part II

It's been a few weeks since I've given any real consideration to writing. After all, the last thing I want to do after a nice long day of breaking English into tiny words, sentences, and grammar labels is write something original of my own. It would be much simpler [is] blogger came with a [est] of questions and answers, much like the classes I teach.
*as you can tell by my excellent grammar and spelling, I'm really digging writing at the moment. We can play a game and you can correct me.

Therefore, back to food we go! In a country of cheap deliciousness, there's nothing I like to gloat about more than what I eat, what I make, and how obscenely cheap it was. And it was cheap.

Let's discuss something I love to eat: the lunch box. A lot of people find the lunch box bland or boring. I say, if you eat a boring or bland lunch box, get over it and move on, because you're bound to find an amazing one within a block of the last joint. The lunch box is generally a flat-ish to-go box divided into one large section and 3 smaller containers, generally reserved for your veggies. (Or if you're really awesome, you'll use them to divide up your different meats, because often you can choose tofu, tiny fish, and eggs as your "vegetables."

You can find lunch boxes practically everywhere. They are the "fast food" of Taiwan, although truthfully, you can find McDonalds and KFC pretty frequently as well. And nearly every restaurant will sell one to you. Damn smart, I think, because it practically ensures you eat a balanced meal. (Unless, again, you think tofu and eggs are vegetables. Which they aren't. But they are delicious. Have I mentioned I haven't met a Taiwanese egg I haven't liked? It's true. It doesn't matter how it's cooked. Eggs here are magical.)
*However, James reminded me that yes, I did find an egg I didn't like. It was 1,000 years old. Sort of. It was a hard boiled egg buried in hay for like a month and then peeled and cooked inside some ridiculously disgusting black jelly. Almost gag reflexed that one right onto the market table.
**Whoops, just informed that the black jelly was actually the egg white, way too far gone. Check this out: whytheheckwouldyouruinaperfectlygoodeggbydoingthistoit?

One night in Danshui, we found ourselves starving. Needless to say, Caitlin was not the happiest bird on the street. Thank goodness two doors down from where we parked our scooter was a family restaurant. What you see is a fish...a whole fish...a possibly once happy fish...of which I ate...the whole thing (save the very middle spine) and other deliciousness - the strips of yellowish stuff you might not recognize is bamboo (I love bamboo here just like I love eggs). Price: 75 NT. Less than $2.50.

Hot pot coals about to be covered by duck filled pot of goodness.

Just as common as the lunch box is the hot pot. Huo guo, if you pardon my excellent Chinese. Wo xi huan wode huo guo hen la. Heck, I could sit here all day pretending to know Mandarin (What I just tried to say using my 50 word vocabulary was "I like my hot pot very spicy.), but then you'd never find out what food I'm talking about.

Duck heart: chewy. Duck liver: bomb.

Eating hot pot in Taiwan is like eating burgers at home. Or burritos, if you're from California. Or sandwiches. You go a restaurant, pay either a set price or all you can eat price, and cook your food in a pot of boiling, flavored water in the middle of your table. There are a billion variations, and most of them end with hot, spicy, oily water flying onto your shirt. Nevertheless, this is duck hot pot.

We went out to dinner with an obscenely large group and found "famous" duck hot pot. Long line. Like, 45 minutes, which is oodles here. Finally you sit down at tiny stools and a low to the ground table. Your pot has a whole duck in it. You buy the things you want to add: mushrooms, meatballs, cabbage, hearts, livers, pigs blood and rice (oh yes, we did) - and cook it. Slowly. And drink some beer. And eat some more. The broth was gingery oily goodness. If only I knew how they did it, I would make my own.

Look who's making yeast rise in Asia...

Speaking of which, even though it's still equally cheap to eat out then eat in, I'm still finding time to challenge myself with the oddness of ingredients available over here. One of my greatest acheivements has been Sunday pizza. I found a terrific pizza base recipe on one of my favorite food blogs, and have since taken to whipping up a simple batch in our fabulous toaster oven every week. Toppings? Tomato sauce, of course, but the first few weeks we had sardines and lime, instead of anchovies, because there weren't any. Since then, it's anchovies, olives, capers and cheese...and a good ol' margherita. Chomping on pizza in TaoYuan. Come visit and I'll make you some! (PS. Bring some pepperoni.)

But it doesn't stop there. Bi-weekly burritos have also hit the menu. Our head teacher found us some amazing, taqueria-style tortillas (not a corn one in sight yet, but my hopes are high), and I've managed to find pinto beans, guac fixings, etc., to make a meal of amazingness. You'll have to take my word for it. I'm pretty sure I'm crafting some of the most authentic things this side of the Pacific.

Bienvenidos de Taiwan!

Oh yeah, about that teaching thing. Pretty sure I'm going into the out-of-home restaurant biz as soon as my contract is up. Winky winky face.