Destination: Penghu!

Penghu: the Hawaii of Taiwan. Or is it the Hawaii of China? The Hawaii of Japan? Oh heck, it's an island (or collection of), it's tropical, it's hot, and I give this weekend destination 4 out of 5 GOLDEN CAITLIN APPROVAL CUPCAKES. I think it's time we moved on from stars and thumbs and embrace what really matters: baked goods.

And I thought Taiwan was all smokestacks and milk tea waste!

This weekend is Dragon Boat Festival weekend. The story goes that a depressed Chinese poet in exile jumped into a river and people tried to paddle out to save him, but alas: he was gone. This weekend, we celebrate the holiday of the suicidal poet, and we get Monday off!

James and I have been trying to get away for a while, so we booked tickets to Penghu last week, knowing that we would leave on Sunday morning and fly back Monday evening - a short trip, but long enough, and all we could find considering its a remote destination where you can only fly in and out (or ferry) from a select few origins in Taiwan.  

Penghu, we read, is famous for a few things: relaxing holiday destination for Taiwanese, sea turtles,  coral beaches, brown sugar cakes and cactus. Oh yeah, wild growing cactus that gets turned into juice, mochi, and of course, ice cream, which really is the best stuff going. It stands right next to Tucker's Zinfindel ice cream, at the top of my "You need at least a cone of this a day" list. How could we resist?

You need at least a cone of this a day.

Sunday morning: Bus to the airport at 6:00 AM. Arrive at the check in counter to check in early, only to find out that James had booked our tickets backwards and effectively, we had no tickets to Penghu on Sunday - we had a ticket to Penghu on Monday and a ticket to Taipei on Sunday. (James later admitted he forgot you put the name of your origin first on the website, then your destination. It doesn't help that everything except the price was in Chinese.) FREAK OUT!

But this is Asia, land of beautiful and helpful-English-speaking flight attendants, and they quickly switched our tickets to some empty seats and within five minutes, we had run to the terminal and sat down on the plane right before they closed the door. It wasn't until we were in the air that we realized we had no flight back, but it didn't really matter. 

A quick plug for Asian airlines: they rock. So far I have used Mandarin Airways and Tiger Airways and they have been helpful, adorable, on time, and always give free tea. You go, foreigners!

Back to the story: arrived in Penghu at 8:00 AM to a burning sunny day. We had booked a room at the Penghu Breeze (last second vacancy) and this included airport pickup. James got off the phone with our ride and exclaimed "Wow, she's awesome. She has such great English!" It turns out, the liason for the Breeze is Ginger, American customer service extraordinare, and she also drives a mean stick shift diesel van. We really got lucky. 

A quick and painless scooter rental later and we were out on the road. We cruised into downtown Magong and were pleasantly surprised with the lack of people and the abundance of old and beautiful Chinese buildings. (I'm not going to lie, I thought Taiwan might look like this everywhere, but out here in suburbia Taoyuan, I think everyone is determined to modernize in an ugly, funky way.) Magong is adorable. There's a big seaside park with a temple, play equipment, grass, and stairs into the ocean where everyone can swim together in the bay. 

How often do you get to stay in one of these?

Pressing on: we drove the main road. We passed everything. The big tree, the windmills, the famous cactus ice cream shop (not necessary, they are everywhere.) We had lunch in a side-of-the-road shop, because honestly, Penghu is not crawling with restaurants. They are far and few between, and if you see one, eat there. Because you will be hungry, like we were. 

It was when we checked into our awesome old guesthouse room on the beach that we noticed: whoops. 4 hours and 2 applications of sunscreen wasn't enough. We were annihilated. We did damage to our skin that only 12 year olds can manage. Oh well. Aloe is cheaper than sunscreen, but that doesn't excuse our behavior. Kids, wear sunscreen, a hat, and an overcoat in the Penghu sun. You'll thank me for it. 

And being so sunburnt didn't make the beach as much fun as it could have been, although it was still incredible. I have been to the Caribbean, Thailand, Mexico and Hawaii and I have never seen ocean water this clear or clean. I have never seen a beach so moderately populated on a holiday weekend. In essence, it was beautiful. Some pre-teens asked me to take a photo with them. Even on Penghu, we're still novelties. 

The night was fabulous. It's been months since James and I have been able to watch a sunset, drink a bottle of wine, and do absolutely nothing. Penghu is good for this. If only we hadn't had to jump on the first flight out the next morning, on stand-by, we would have done it again...and again!

The Jist:

Go to Penghu. Just do it. It's less than $4000NT round trip. It's less than an hour from Taipei, and if you have to do it in 24 hours like we did, still do it!

Advice: 

Bring sunscreen and put it on every hour.

Bring mosquito repellent, mosquito coils, mosquito outdoor spray, and a mosquito net. There are billions of them, and they want you to remember your stay.

Drink water...and then drink wine or beer. It's a tropical island!

Bon voyage!

Today is Sunny and Scorching!

Summer has come to Taiwan again, much as I remember it. Except it's hotter.

Just look at that blue sky...and sun!

After coming through the most confusing winter of my life - humid, freezing, unheated, funky, dirty, cloudy - it's a relief to finally see the sun. It's easy to ask my students, "How is the weather today?" and they say without question, "Today is sunny and HOT!" I like it, when I'm inside. And then I put on my outside shoes (Have I mentioned that huge market Taiwan has for shoes, considering you need shoes for home, shoes for work, shoes for scooters, shoes for "partying", and shoes for the bathroom? Just kidding. Your bathroom shoes are called bare feet.)

I went outside and it was scorching.

Go to the beach when it's hot and find...part of a wall?

The dogs know it. All of the dogs that hang around the wet market were panting in the shade, one of them chewing on a stolen arm of young ginger. The cabbage slicers, with their special crescent knives made specially for chunking off rotten bits of cabbage, had large streams of sweat running down their faces. Up the street, the builders and road makers were sitting on the backs of their blue trucks, catching a bit of a cigarette smoke in the shade before having to return to the hot heat of midday.

I come home and turn on the fan. After all, there's not much more benefit you get from an A/C, besides killing Mother Nature, that you can't get from a fan. Or can you?

Remembering being in Cuba...with the air conditioning blasting at a comfy 22C while we took our afternoon siesta. There is something so wrong and so right about snuggling into a comforter when it's sweltering outside. Maybe we should play voodoo with Mama Earth and get some comfort - and soon.

Oh yeah, fry everything in the ocean!

Sunday was hot, too!


Saturday, it rained all day, so Sunday we went for a drive to the fish market by the Taiwan Strait. It's an awesome drive, with hardly anyone on the road (you can really open up the scooter, all 55K that she can do with 2 people on the back!) One hour to the town of Yongan, and about 5 minutes to decide that the best thing to eat would be deep fried mini-crabs, fish filled with eggs, prawns and sweet potatoes.

I can't BELIEVE I stopped eating fried food last year! Ladies, if you want to have fun, and you want to have an appropriately sized bosom, you have to eat some fried food. Just do it!

Can't buy a fish without Neopolitan soft-serve cones!

I love fish markets. Some are open in the morning and some are open in the evening. There's nothing like it at home - the beautiful colors and the clear eyes and everyone asking you "Yao shen me?" - Do you want something? In true indecisive fashion, I mutter "Xien zai bu zhi dao..." - I don't know right now.

Many of the fish are still moving. Most of the clams are still spitting water. And of course there are stranger things - urchins, giant snails, giant lobsters (not as common), small snails (very common), dried fish, fish floss...I love it all...except the floss.

I'm gonna love you, and then I'm gonna steam you.

Bought a fish, which was only slightly descaled unfortunately, and took it home and cooked it to deliciousness. I ate fish three times on Sunday. I guess it is the Lord's day. ;D My goodness, it's hot.

Oh dear - the heat has gone to my head. I'm all over the place. It could also be the 22 students in my 2-3 year old class now. Tell me it's crazy, and I'll tell you I'm about the turn on the A/C!

The Dentist and the Swimming Pool

Sometimes living in Taiwan feels like living on the bottom of the ocean, sometimes it feels like living in a circus, and sometimes, it's just like living at home.

Take for example, the swimming pool.

James and I got a hankering for a swim two weeks ago and found several locations on the internet to check out. It turned out that our first choice was, TADA!, a vacant lot that used to be a swimming pool (the internet isn't as up to date as we think sometimes.) But another location, the SPA as the sign calls it, was open and awesome. I mean, really cool. $3 a visit gets unlimited swim time, sauna time, play time, shower time, hot pool time, and general people watching time, if you really want. You can even bring your white water kayak to practice flipping over in the pool, as we saw a man, in the pool, in a silver helmet, doing. I say, let's do it!

Lap swimming at a pool in Taiwan is a fashion parade. Wow-wow-wee-woo-woo: floral tankinis and swim caps are a must! It makes me feel just a bit more waiguoren when all I brought to Taiwan is a mismatched bikini (but had to buy the swim cap), but people don't seem to mind seeing my over-pale belly parading around.

Especially not the kiddies. We happened to finish a post-work stress relief dip right as an enormous group of school children pulled up. They couldn't believe there were white people at the pool. They couldn't believe it so much that they made a mouth gaping semi-circle around me in the changing room, clearly not aware that I understand much more Chinese than my face lets on. I love the swimming pool.

And the dentist?


I know when I hear field trip, I think "Please, let's go to the dentist." I bet it's what my 3 year olds were thinking, too. The poor things never saw it coming. All they knew was that we were taking the bus somewhere, and they love the bus.

I had heard stories about the dentist. Another English teacher went to get a check-up and a cleaning and ended up getting a "teeth scraping" - something that sounds on par with getting my arm hairs individually tweezed. I knew that something simple like toothpaste was a bit sketchy. A parent of a student gave me two tubes of toothpaste as a gift, which was great, except it was menthol toothpaste. Ah, just like brushing your teeth with bug spray and eucalyptus.

Plus, I just can't figure this out: Why is dental care so cheap and abundant, and yet children have the most disgusting, rotten teeth I have ever seen? Plus, it's standard to brush at least 3 times a day. The hypothesis is lack of flouride in the water, but really, maybe parents are just giving kids durian fruit candy or something to suck on while they sleep.

Some of my kids have teeth that make your toe hair curl. Beautiful, angelic faces, but blackened, holey, disfigured little gnashers. I love to make them laugh, I love to see them smile, but sometimes I can't help but think, if only you could talk, smile and laugh with your mouth closed! Seriously, very gnarly.

Back to the dentist: All the young students piled into the office to wait their turn. My job was to life the terrified toddlers into the dentist chair, where they were quickly poked and it was decided how many and where there were cavities (so the kiddies could come back with Mommy and Daddy another day to get them filled..or refilled...as it might be necessary.)

Some of my students were so brave and happy to play "big boy" or "big girl" for 30 seconds while getting orally violated. But some were not. Five of them did not want anything do with it. One look at the bright light and the scary hook about to go into their mouths and they screamed. I don't blame them. I hate the dentist. And to be honest, I may have giggled a little, because they were so cute, so helpless, and so right: dentists are masochists and we should be scared.

Sometimes, Taiwan is like home. Babies hate the dentist and pre-teens are fascinated with nearly naked adults.

All Day Long I Dream About...Chopping, Peeling, Boiling, Woking

Green Onion Asian Fried Snails. Sort of.

Since when did this become all about food?

As I write this, I am simultaneously freezing fresh strawberries (in preparation for leaner days ahead, as the mangos come in and deliciously snuff out the competition), simmering turkey soup, and planning a nectarine cobbler as a post-work relief for tomorrow.

And though it might sound crazy, at the end of the day, usually even my worst day (which tends to be Wednesday, because I teach a horrible class of awkward, unmotivated pre-teens in the last hours of my day), I would rather cook than anything. Saturday morning, outing? Heck no, brunch! Does it even matter where the passion began? I don't think so. What matters is, it's happening, and if you're lucky enough, it might benefit you, too.

The tortilla station.

Taiwan used to seem like a desert (not dessert) of familiar food items, and now, on my ridiculously lax budget, I can conceive and create practically anything. And it's all here, in Taoyuan (not even in Taipei).

Carrefour: white flour, couscous, black olives, canned sardines (no laughing until you've tried them), red wine, French cheese

Green/Yellow Sign Wholesale Baking Store: anchovies, flour tortillas, spaghetti, canned tomatoes, prolific spices, whole wheat flour, cornmeal, nuts and dried fruit

A-Mart: pinto beans, hot sauce, Guinness, ice cream - WOW, a fabulous new combination!

And of course, everything else comes straight off the street. I still carry everything home in my reused bags - eggs, fruit, veggies, meat, fish - which I now can order straight off the stainless steel market slab, instead of packaged.

And then I bolt for home, giant bags in tow. Saturday, I lugged home one bag of produce and a 10 pound watermelon. Then, I hit the countertop. In a 1ft. by 1ft. space is where I chop. On my one burner is where I multitask cook. It's blissful. It's orchestrated. And less and less, I make things I want to throw at the OhYa Hotel across the street. It's damn good. And I'm inspired, on a daily basis, to get better and better. (And praying, please, let me have TWO stove burners and a real oven in the Czech Republic...)

Floppy enchiladas, oh so good!

So whatcha makin', Caitlin?

Oh, you know, just green onion pancakes. And Mexican food. Ever since the arrival of the masa harina, the world has been a bit brighter. Have you ever made corn tortillas? GO. DO. IT. It takes no time at all and by the time you're finished rolling out the balls into creative circles, all your worries from your day are gone. Poof, into the tortilla. Enchiladas, fajitas, salmon tacos. Next up, we go sopes and tamales.

So, in quick conclusion, this was a little "Hello!" to tell you about something I'm loving, something I want to share with you, and something that I'm pretty sure will keep steering my interests the rest of my life. I am 23 years old and I love to be in the kitchen.

Now what do you think of that?

And to finish, the giant salmon tacos. Made in Taiwan. 

Jiufen: Or, Why I Have Never Been So Grateful To Have a Seat

It's time, of course, to wash out your old ancestral cleaning bucket and haul your fanciest travel-sized brooms out of the closet: it's Tomb Sweeping Weekend!

And who would have thought it would just...POOF...disappear?

Sure, it's a holiday that I don't practice, most obviously because I have no such tomb to sweep, but I certainly can get behind a four-day weekend where everyone gets their clean on and spends time with their family. My version is simple: four days of no plans, no work, and lots of new sights. 

Hiking sounded like a tremendous idea, especially because the weather looked like it was promising another day of sunshine, so we decided to combine a "check" on a tourist destination with a nice big mountain climb. Not just any climb, but climbing "Teapot Mountain," which sounds right up my alley, considering I down no less than three cups a day.

So off we go on a scooter-train-bus ride that is to take around 4 hours from door to...old street. Our first encounter with the holiday weekend begins at the train station. Was there a line? Oh baby, there was a line. We thought we could simply breeze through with our new convenience cards, the Taipei EasyCard, but it turns out, the logic behind where you can use the EasyCard is not so easy. So off to the ticket line we go, and then onto the platform, where things are so crowded that moms simply don't notice their children running over the yellow safety line and nearly onto the tracks.

No wait, maybe that's not the holiday weekend talking. Come on, parents, keep your little genetic insurance policies behind the recommended "live or die" line, please. It makes me nervous. 

The train arrives. My first thought: Awesome. I've always wanted to go to India and this must be what trains are like in India! I mean, there's pushing, there's little breathing, and then the train takes off, and it is noisy. James can't believe his ears. Somehow in the tiny space people are chatting on cell phones, to their buddies, playing games, and who knows what else (because hey, my conversation comprehension skills don't go far beyond *"Wei? Ni hao? Wo zhidao, wo zhidao, mei yo...chingmingding huo chur chingmingding dien hao hao hao hao. Bye bye!" 

After the first half hour, we score two seats, which makes the whole reading while on the train venture significantly easier. The train, to me, seems to be moving backwards. I never knew the local train stop so many times on the way to a seemingly simple destination. A little girl standing near us makes up a little Chinese song to the tune of "Twinkle, twinkle little star" that says something like " Doors open, doors open, next stop, next stop..."

We pull into Keelung, Taiwan's northernmost port city, and the sun is shining. It's one of our only encounters with the ocean while in Taiwan and it's gorgeous. In the harbor, we ever seen a Greenpeace boat. How delightful! Onto the bus, where again, we are lucky enough to grab seats. How lucky we are we don't know until we hit traffic. In fact, I'm not even sure it's traffic. It could just be that the streets were designed too small for full-sized buses. Or rather, the buses are too big for the streets. Either way, we aren't moving anywhere quickly. 

Minutes drag on. Lunch hour passes. Uh oh. Those who are aware of the family trait for passing lunch time know what happens next. I start gently pounding my head against the window. We start driving into the mountains finally, and the bus once again stops moving. The trick is, there are buses coming the other direction too, around corners too tight for a cop on a scooter, let alone two buses. The head pounded gets a bit more severe.

"Can't we just get out? NOW? PLEASE?" becomes my plea, and though I'm not proud to admit it, it got a bit ugly. We could literally see where we needed to get off the bus in Jiufen, our old mining town destination (and apparently everyone elses destination as well), and yet spent ten minutes simply looking at the bus stop from 10 meters away. 

And finally we were there. So we embarked down the old street, which was not only one of the longest old streets I have been on in Taiwan, but also one of the most narrow with the largest amount of people. Oh yeah, we did. We went into the old street of no return. Jiufen's food specialty is fish balls, and thus our view was robot motion crowds and...fish balls. They also have something that looked delicious but not delicious enough for a ridiculously long line, which was some sort of ice bowl with taro balls and sugar. And something green, gelatinous and filled with something stringy. It all depends of your level of experimentation, I think. 

After many minutes of shoving and overtaking, we emerge, fishball fed, at the other end, where we see yet another beautiful view of the ocean. This view is gorgeous. Ocean views with harbors are way better than those without, I think, because they're a good combo of man vs. sea. Anyway, up to the mountain!

Oh when the clouds, come rolling in...

After a series of unprecedented ups and downs of stairs and windy streets, we find ourselves at the stairs of the mountains, looking up to the top. With a big breath, we begin. Until, after a quick off-road bathroom trip, we notice something unusual. The clouds are sprinting to the sea. They are the fastest moving clouds I have ever seen, and where two minutes ago the view to the top of the mountain and to the sea were clear, the clouds had spilled over everything. Within a few more minutes, the mountain was covered so far you could hardly seen ten stairs up. 

Down the mountain we go, in good spirits for trying, taking pictures with some tourist families as we go. (I wonder how many family albums I will someday be featured in :D...) But back to the bus? No deal. No more head-banging for me.

So we walk 4k down the mountain to the train station, get on the train, find out it's the wrong train, try to catch the right train, miss it, get on another train, switch trains, and are finally on the right track but unfortunately, have no seats for the first hour. 

Ah, such is the experience of a four day weekend...

Finished off the day with a new favorite find on "the other side of tracks." This is quite literal. If you go to the train tracks and take the underpass pedestrian tunnel, you end up in the Thai/Vietnamese/Malay community, which means awesome, non-Taiwanese food. Ate body burning thai curry and papaya salad and faced ultimate satisfaction. You can't help but feel good about a day that ends in a meal like that. 

*Translation in my head: "Hey? Hello? I know, I know, I have...chingmingding train chingmingding time good good OK OK. Bye bye!"

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.