Misletoes

This year was the first year where Christmas didn't exist.

Though my family never celebrated Christmas (us being Asian and all), Christmas was always an unescapable fact of life. In Australia, in England, in Canada. Christmas arelways seemed to creep earlier and earlier into our consciousness each year, when we'd walk into a mall and hear the familiar tingles of Christmas songs ad nauseum and sigh Oh is it that time of the year already?

Red, green, gold and silver twinkle high and low. Ornamented trees and reindeers in David Jones (Sydneysiders will know this is a big chain of department stores), or that fucking huge nativity scene with the garish coloured lights and plastic camels on Pennent Hills Road or thereabouts. But it was definitely in the Bible Belt of Sydney.

There would always be reports on the News at Six on Ten (at six o'clock, on Channel Ten) about consumer spending and customer confidence and how much we're all putting on credit cards like it's a scandal. And how the smart ones are waiting to purchase that big ticket white good till after Boxing Day when the sales start.

And for the past three Christmases it was the biting and soul-awakening cold. The kind of Christmas image seen and experienced in most of the world but a wonder to me but somehow made all the sense. Santa looked right here, against the white snow in his fur-lined coat. And so did the turkey. The Germans know how to put on Christmas. Sucking back a mug of gluhwein and munching on cinnamon biscuits at the Christmas market in the cold, among twinkling lights, watching steam rise and disappate with each increasingly alcoholic breath. Nose and cheeks red from cold and heat but never given a second thought. Just tug that hat down a little more securely over the ears and do a little jig on the spot.

Christmas didn't exist this year. I went into the office and did my nine hours. I went in again today. It's Boxing Day, elsewhere in the world. I will go into the office again tomorrow and the day after. What are these street posters that I see? Christmas Hip Hop Party. Buffet dinner, only NT$1500 per person. What baffoonery. A piss-weak attempt at a foreign concept and it's irritating. Like scratching nails on a blackboard.

Every year, Norway presents a huge Christmas tree to Britain to thank the Brits for saving their arse in WWII. The tree is erected in Trafalgar Square along with a plaque stating this very fact.

History. Tradition. Christmas.

The Garden Path

It occurred to me not that long ago, in fact, whilst I was in the shower 30 mins earlier, that I hadn't penned a Countdown of any sorts for a while.

And I'd hate to be called out for Fraudulent Advertising here. Or indeed any where.

So a little recap of my Asia Edition timeline.
Yawn.
I arrived in Taiwan on the 25th June.
Yawwwn.
It will be the 25th December on Tuesday.
Yaaawwwnnnn - look people just bear with me for two seconds will you???

It will mark six months of my existence here. What will this Countdown countdown to? Another six months of convolution? Or two months? Or a week? Perhaps it will be a countdown to When Tina T Cracks. Place your bets people.

Ah but there'll be another twist to the story.

Yes there will.

Love Sick

Oh wow, so this is what it feels like. So new, so exciting, so sexy...

To have something to hold and say it's all mine.

I can't believe how satisfying this experience has been and how long I've waited for it.

And at 12 inches, it's just the right size...

Ladies and gentlemen, I have brought myself a laptop!

My very first, very own, very slick little number that gives me hours of joy. I am finally reconnected to the world, a world that has been denied to me at work, a world that I only glimpsed at home on a dirty laptop that's already been on someone else's lap but now it's a brand new day and now that me and my baby have found each other we're going for a long, long drive together.

Update

By the way, the firewall at work has cotton on to www.blogger.com and have now banned access to the site. Sigh... One less thing I get to do at work...

Yet it's still permissible to read personal blogs, even one's like Monmouth.

What crazy, topsy-turvy world we live in today.

Jazz and Blues

I went to a jazz club tonight.

Surprisingly, it was probably the best jazz club I have ever been to in my life. Kudos to Taipei. Has anyone ever heard of a song called Wild Women Don't Have the Blues by Ida Cox? Written in 1924 (that's right, 1924), the lyrics will strike at the heart of any woman worth her salt today. Brings to my mind Erykah Badu's Tyrone, from her 1997 album Live. Ida did it in 1924.

Wild Women Don't Get the Blues
I hear these women raving 'bout their monkey men
About their trifling husbands
and their no good friends
These poor women sit around all day and moan
Wondering why their wandering papa's don't come home
But wild women don't worry, wild women don't have no blues
Now when you've got a man, don't never be on the square
'Cause if you do he'll have a woman everywhere
I never was known to treat no one man right
I keep 'em working hard both day and night
'Cause wild women don't worry, wild women don't have their blues
I've got a disposition and a way of my own
When my man starts kicking I let him find another home
I get full of good liquor, walk the streets all night
Go home and put my man out if he don't act right
Wild women don't worry, wild women don't have their blues
You never get nothing by being an angel child
You better change your ways and get real wild
I wanna tell you something, I wouldn't tell you a lie
Wild women are the only kind that really get by
'Cause wild women don't worry, wild women don't have their blues

Tyrone
[Erykah] "Lets See How Ya'll Groove to this"
"Alright"
I'm gettin' tired of your shit
You don't never buy me nothin
'See Everytime you come around
You got to bring Jim, James, Paul, & Tyrone
See why can't we be by ourselves, sometimes
See I've been having this on my mind
For a long timeI just want it to be
You and me
Like it used to be, Baby
But ya don't know how to act
So matter of fact
[Chorus] I think ya better call Tyrone (Call Him)
And Tell him come on, Help you get your Shit (Come On, Come on)
You need to Call Tyrone (Call Him)
And tell him I said come on
Now everytime I ask you for a little cash
You say no and turn right around and ask me for some ass
Oh, Well hold up listen partna
I ain't no cheap thrill
Cause Miss Badu is always comin' for real
And you know the deal
Everytime we go somewhereI gotta reach down in my purse
To pay your way and your homeboys way
And sometimes your cousin's way
They don't never have to pay
Don't have no cars
Hang around in bars
Try to hang around with stars
Like Badu
I'm gon' tell you the truth
Show and proveor get the boot
I think ya better, (Erykah Badu-He, he he) (Call Him)
And tell him come on
Help you get your shit
You need to call Tyrone (Call Him)
[Erykah Badu] "Hold On"
But ya can't use my phone

Demanding

I sit and stare at the computer screen.

I sit and stare some more. A few hours pass and it's time for lunch. Having feasted on an incredibly affordable take out meal courtesy of a noodle man in a van, I continue the arduous routine of the sit/stare task.

Nothing wavers me. Not the phones ringing at desks of industrious co-workers, not their rapid-fire discussions dismantling issues tantamount to bursting dykes and reducing them to small, quivering leaks. I am a turret atop my cubicled walls.

This is a fantasy. I am in fact more ready to slouch then slump, a hair's width away from falling into complete unconsciousness at experiencing the kind of boredom that stems from the fully concentrated, triple-distilled, pure essence of having Absolutely Nothing To Do. There isn't even a reason for me to pretend to look busy: my boss is away and I am tucked neatly into a corner cubicle. I could sleep under my desk, though I'm sure someone is bound to discover me once the smell of decay reaches them in a few weeks.

I fear I am losing my professional edge. Coming up with these words required the kind of mental acuity not demanded in my job of late. My vision is blurred, my head warm and heavy. My backside is numb from prolonged sitting. I need a good lie down so I can do it all again tomorrow.

Small Things

I buy breakfast in Taipei. One rice ball (stuffed with pickled white radish, pork floss and fried dough stick - trust me, it's good) costs NTD$30. I buy the same rice ball, plus soy milk, in Taichung and it's also NT$30.

A very small yet affective way of demonstrating the difference in cost of living between major and minor cities.

QED

...Ok, so it's a very slow morning at work today. Actually everyday is a slow day at work for me. I feel like I'm getting away with being paid for doing not very much at all. I suppose it's not much different to my last job in Canada, I didn't do much there at all either, but I didn't have a manager sitting right behind me like I do here now, so any chance I have to sneak a line or two onto this blog is considered subversive behaviour. Hence the gratification. Ah the gratification.

Sometimes I Wonder

On the front page of our intranet today I found out our company "...sponsors a mobile library for the visually-impaired..."

What kind of a cruel, sick gift is this? A mobile library? If the blind ever wanted to re-visit the library they're up for a hell of a time if it kept moving up and down the road!

Drunk Koreans

"Hey man."

We look over. "Hey. Cheers." It's directed at my American Friend. A nod is returned and we resume our conversation. "Hey man," Uh-oh. Drunken conversation about to overtake inhibition and logic. "You're cool. You American?" Yes was the reply. "I like-a you speak English." The next question was directed at me. "You American?" No was MY reply (who would have thought?). This apparently was of no interest to the enquirer and our new aquaintance resumed all eyes and attention to my friend, who was being very accommodating.

"I sit?" he says as he plonks down opposite us, deserting his Sober Friend at the next table. Sober Friend was a good man. He could sense the evening could turn at any stage and he joined us to keep an eye on his friend for fear of disgrace and would apologise intermittenly for the rest of the evening for his friend's gradual descent into incoherancy.

A round of drinks is ordered and Mr Drunk downs a full glass of red like it was a shot. After he's already had beer and whisky for many hours prior. Sober Friend begins to act as translator, though I think some parts he made up himself. For like when the two would seem to be arguing amongst themselves in Korean for a few minutes, furrowed brow and arms gesticulating, before Sober Friend turns to us in an aura of calm to ask, "Where you work?"

Lots of little conversations ensued, each of us having snippets of each other's conversations.

Drunk to American: You look like artist.
American to Drunk: Haha, I'm not.
Me to Drunk: He's a writer.
American to Me: Don't lie now.
Drunk to American: Hey I'm talking to you.
Sober to Drunk: (Korean) &^%*)%#.
American to Drunk: What...?
Sober to American: 足球... We play on Saturday...
Drunk to American: (Korean) *%#@(_#...
American to Me: You were saying?
Me to Sober: 足球? Oh soccer...
Drunk to American: I like you.

It was getting awkward and we were the last customers left in the bar. The music had stopped. The lights seemed brighter. Mr Drunk was however quite at ease and smiles benignly. We sit. Eventually he decides it was time to go. Sober Friend bids us farewell and like a lifesaver, guides Mr Drunk gingerly through the door.

On My Way to Taipei

I could see the end coming.

It was all of a sudden upon me. Being unemployed in resort-like surroundings for three months was good going. To pack up and move for a job within two days of getting notice that you're hired was just too fast for my liking.

That was only two weeks ago but feels like an eternity.

It was barely morning when we started on the road. Hence the happy face below:


Plus it was turning out to be a Bad Hair Day.

Dud

I met a guy today. An online friend I'd exchanged two or three emails in the last two months with.

First impressions. Slightly greasy unkept hair. The kind that some guys think is cool, but not. Bleary eyed. Like he'd been partying way too much the night before. Non descript clothes. Didn't look too close cause I'd seen enough. Why is it that foreign men in Taiwan feel they can discard all fashion sense once they spend more than a month here? It's because they're white and can get girls no matter how ugly, poor, uneducated and unkept they are. And this guy knew it.

We sat down in a bar. And without taking even a sip of his drink while I had two, he droned about his work. He says he's an "artist". No sir, you are an engineer with the stupid idea of wanting to make what is essentially a mobile phone into a piece of wearable jewellery. Twat.

He is gay. I don't mean that in a degrogatory way. I mean he IS gay. My gaydar had already peaked from his emails but confirmed by the way he carried on about how he likes girls, really likes girls. Then the freudian slip of repeating a question I hadn't asked. Do you mean if I had a boyfriend, I mean girlfriend? No you schmuck. I said family. FAMILY.

Two hours went by and he had to go. Said he's going out and asked people to go out with him but everybody declined. But he's still going cause it's Wednesday, ladies night.

Go. Be my guest. GO.

Drudgery

Tired. So so tired.

Working full time again. Public transport in peak hour. Fluorescent lighting.

I even have a cubicle.

God help me.

It's no where near as fun and exciting as one of my favourite films, Working Girl. In that movie, lowly secretary Melanie Griffith makes her way to top in mergers and aquisitions in investment banking with her padded shoulders, big hair and icy blue eyeshadow. Throw in handsome Harrison Ford as love interest and that all time favourite sing-along song 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton that enormously jovial song bird and you have any little girl's dream come true. Alright just mine maybe. Look I grew up in the 80s OK?

Just over a week ago I got a job as a lowly secretary in wholesale bank finance of an investment bank.

But there's no theme song. There's no Dolly to cheer me up with her big enthusiasm. No Harrison hunk to kiss behind closed boardroom doors. And it's certainly not working out to be 9 to 5. Way to go to destroy one's own dream.

Dance

I went to Taipei's answer to Coyote Ugly the other night.

Sadly no Tyra Banks to be found but thankfully no Leanne Rimes either. Just people, like me. I was reminded of my glorious youth when I was a crazy, happy, little dance nymph living with an anything-goes attitude exemplified by my dance motto: "If there is a stage, I'm on it".

Encouraged by free champange for ladies before 12, I felt inclined to make use of the bar top and purpose-built railings. But after only a minute and a half of shimmying to the overplayed but much loved Groove Amada classic Super Stylin I found myself already out of breath. My god, I thought as realization hit, it really was a lifetime ago. Women my age wear these damn heels because we cannot dance anymore, excusing ourselves from exertion beyond the walk to the loo and back!

Was it fortunate that at least in the grand scheme of things, I was not the only person on that bar top? I guess so. But it was unfortunate that a few moments later a salaciously dressed woman chose her piece of bar top real estate right next to me. Gold strappy heels, denim hot pants, bikini top. She hid her identity behind large bling sunglasses. Bless.

The men in the bar of course gaped at her like frozen apes, looking like a succession of eggs were about to pop out of their oral orifices.

I'm not jealous. Hell no. There was nothing in her appearance or moves that made me wish I had her aura of cheap stripper nasty. The point is, have I become an embittered old woman, cursing the rightful place nubile babes have in the dance pecking order?

Nah.

I've always loved to dance and glad to find I still do. And this experience has also racked up my Countries of Bar and/or Table Top Dancing count to 8: Australia, Singapore, UK, France, Germany, Bosnia, Canada, Taiwan.

I've seen Greek mothers and grandmothers getting up on table tops to dance at hen's nights and weddings. I feel a kinship towards them right now.

Opa!

Tourist in My Own Country

I visited the National Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Park and the Dr Sun Yat Sen Memorial Park in Taipei. These two memorial parks are named and in honour of two men of controversial importance in the complex and entwined history of the Republic of China and of modern China itself.

Within the mammoth grounds of the National Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Park stands the National Theatre and the National Concert Hall and at the far end, a white building with blue octagonal roof is the Memorial Hall. Within the hall is a large sculpture of a seated Chiang Kai Shek, though it was closed for renovations during my visit.

Chiang Kai Shek played a large part in Taiwan's history. Towards the end of the Chinese Civil War against the Mao-led Communists, Chiang and his Nationalist Party, Kuomingtang (KMT) retreats to Taiwan in 1949. His retreat meant a temporal move of the goverment of the Republic of China (ROC) which was first established in 1912 by his mentor Dr Sun Yat Sen. Here he claims his government to be the rightful sovereign over all of China and Taipei its provisional capital. In 1949 Mao establishes the People's Republic of China, in China. Chiang and the ROC has effectively been ousted.

Chiang was elected as the President of the ROC in 1948 and remained in the position until his death in 1975. Taiwan under the Chiang and the KMT was a single-party state. In fact, Taiwan is placed under martial law until 1987 and this entire period is known as 'White Terror', suppression of all political dissent against the KMT. Actual or even perceived dissention was punishable by imprisonment or execution. Even something as trivial as the local Taiwanese dialect is banned and Mandarin, favoured by mainlanders and KMT is enforced. I clearly recall my childhood as a first grader, in 1984, discussing with my friends in know-all tones that speaking in Taiwanese is not allowed.

The Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall was officially opened in 1980. It is an impressive building, its blue and white colours and traditional shape stands proudly in the large open square. Under Chiang's rule, Taiwan under goes massive developments and throughout the 60s and into the 70s grows an economy of envy, earning a place as one of the "Four Asian Tigers".

With the Cold War in place during this time, Chiang is regarded by the West as a legitimate and respected leader of China (which included the island of Taiwan) even though the ROC had no actual control whatsoever with anything that occurred on the mainland. One has to remember that Chiang led China into WWII as an Allied force and was the one of the four most powerful nations at that time along with the USA, UK and France, collectively known as the "Four Policemen". At the end of the second world war, Chiang was the head of a country that became a founding member of the United Nations and also a permanent member of the UN Security Council.

With the lift of martial law in 1987, criticism of Chiang from the people of Taiwan is finally bubbling forth. Many monuments, statues, streets named after or in honour of Chiang are being gradually removed or replaced. In fact in 2007, President Chen Shui Bian of the Democratic Progressive Party announced that the National Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall to be renamed the National Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall. However supporters of the original name (predominately KMT members) objected to the change and now due to political scuffling and legal tug-o-war the old name is still technically the correct name but none from either side of the political fence likes to refer to it as such. Kinda like Taiwan's own political/legal status. I mean ROC.

Technically Taiwan does not exist as a county. Doesn't that just blow your mind?


L: Impressive gates to the Memorial Park; R: CKS Memorial Hall, large and looming in the distance. High school kids in the foreground.

L: Troops in prep for the "Double 10 Day" parade (or Independence Day, held on the 10th of October), in front of the National Concert Hall; R: The National Concert Hall, under renovations for the celebrations.

L: Front view of the National Concert Hall with troops parading ant-like in front; R: Sweaty soldiers guarding rifles during a break in their practice.

I mentioned earlier that Dr Sun Yat Sen was a mentor to Chiang Kai Shek. He is considered by both the People's Republic of China and the Republic of China as the "Father of the Fatherland". Dr Sun's influence culminated in the overthrow of the Qing Dynasty in 1911, the last dynastic family that will ever rule China.

Inside the memorial hall which is topped by a wonderful golden roof, is a large statue of Dr Sun, guarded by two military personnel at all times. There is a sign in front of the statue asking visitors to bow to the statue as a sign of respect. I did not, as one is under no obligation. But I did see a Taiwanese man and his wife bowing deeply upon entering.

The memorial hall sits in a less austere sounds and its verandah on the shady side that day sat many old men playing Chinese chess with other old men onlookers.


L: Old and new - SYS Memorial Hall and Taipei 101; R: Side view of SYS Memorial Hall.

L: The front of SYS Memorial Hall; R: Mosaic on the foot path.

L: Sign declaring new name for CKS Memorial Hall, technically not correct due to legal and political game play; R: The verandah of SYS Memorial Hall.

L: A Chinese chess game in session, one of many on the day; R: Sign in front of Dr Sun's statue requesting visitors to salute. Bowing is acceptable.

Bling-a-licious

Saw these tacky custom mobile phone covers the other day. They are regular phones with stick-on sparkly things on them. Turn your phone bling-a-licious in an instant. You can take them to special customising stores for these professional finishes.



So I decided to do the same with mine. ButI thought, why spend all that money when you can D.I.Y.? A small pack costs only NT$50. I think for complete coverage you need 3 to 4 packs depending on the size of your phone. I used 2 packs.

My phone has been with me since May 2006, but as you can see it's waaaaay old from a lifetime ago. It was a hand-me-down as I had at the time lost my (actually it was my company's) nice new one with colour screen and camera. The hand-me-down was pretty scratched up so this was the perfect opportunity to do something about it.




Ok, so it's a little mutton dressed as lamb...

But hey, when in Rome!

A Cat Special or A Special Cat

I've been conditioned to really like cats since being at Mike and Jeri's this week.

While we were out last Tuesday on Middle Autumn Festival we stopped off at two pet stores and I have to confess I saw kittens that were adorable.

But so is Du. As these pics testify.

Sorry to non-feline lovers to subject you to this very subjective entry.


L: Du in red top that she hates; R: Du napping on her pillow.

L: Kitten sleeping in her litterbox; R: Kitten falling asleep upright.

L: Massive "tiger cat". It really was huge. And looks like Garfield; R: Du in her bumble bee costume that she hates.


All-star Du.

Food Fest

Today is Middle Autumn Festival day proper and the last day of the long weekend. A late start, I woke to a small lunch at 12:30pm consisting of seaweed and onion soup with chopped minced fish cakes. Then my brother announced we were to take the MRT to Xi Men Ding, a popular area in the city for the hip and happening kids of Taipei. It's a shopping district, full of cinemas, restaurants, food stands, knick knacks, tattoo shops, hair salons and such.

We arrive around 2:30pm to sample the first attraction of the day - intestine rice noodles. It's a bowl of thick-souped rice noodles, with bits of chopped pork intestines, topped with coriander. Add some chilli sauce and it makes for a warming and delicious meal. A small bowl costs NT$40. We washed it down with a cold kumquat lemon juice drink with dried plum.




Next my brother spots a little cart selling a kind of sweets literally translated as chilled rounds. They are clear glutinous bite-size balls with flavoured centres. They come filled with red bean, mellon and peach. You get nine for NT$30.


As we ate we wondered for a bit and did a little shopping. Time for a food break, so we had deep fried minced fish cakes. It's topped with a special sauce and is a delicious snack. One portion costs NT$40. My brother Mike and his girlfriend Jeri also shared a thick soup with floured pork. This is the best I can describe it! We walked round the corner and had strawberry and condensed milk shaved ice.



After walking around some more browsing at this and that, we rested our feet at a tea house and I had iced apple red tea, which is just apple flavoured black tea. I also ordered a double flavoured toast which is a thickly sliced piece of toast cut in half, with peanut butter on one half and chocolate on the other. Jeri had an iced passionfruit green tea and my bro had a coffee (just a regular coffee not worth bolding).

Xi Men Ding kept us occupied for hours but someone mentioned smelly tofu and I wanted to have some as it is one of my favourite snacks. My brother knew the best place for it but we needed to take the MRT to another location.

15 mins later we arrive at the smelly tofu shop only to find it was closed for Middle Autumn Festival! So onwards we went to nearby Tong Hwa Street Night Market.

Taiwan is famous for night markets. You'll find streets lined on both sides with a myriad of stores selling the latest and greatest stuff, as well as food stands, stalls and carts. A whole mix of licenced and legal, and unlicenced and illegal vendors are crammed into the street, all for your shopping and eating pleasure. But I suggest you buy whatever you like at that moment, for if your vendor happens to be of the illegal kind, the vendor and cart will in a blink of an eye disappear at the approach or even smell of a police officer so you'll have no chance to go back should you eventually decide two steps later it was a bargin afterall. They are that fast and instinctive. Like rare short-haired bandicoots.

At Tong Hwa we found a stall selling bite-size smelly tofu for NT$55 for a large portion.



My brother also had sweet tofu dessert from another stall, but it was weirdly flavoured with chocolate and other unknowns which is such a sacrilege. The only way to have it in my books is traditional with peanuts.

Next my brother and I spy a food cart selling blood rice cakes and we get a stick, a childhood favourite of his and mine. Pork blood is mixed with rice then steamed. It's then cut up into rectangular portions and skewered, so you get a stick per portion. It is kept in boiled water until you order one. The vendor will then dip it in a special sauce, paint on chilli sauce if you ask for it, then coat it in crushed peanuts on both sides and finish it off with coriander. Only NT$25 per stick.

Jeri on the other hand spies a cart selling chicken bums. It's the very tip of the chicken's rear end which is quite fatty. You get five per skewer. Grilled to perfection they are crisy and moist and beautifully edible and nicely bite-sized!

I get thirsty and murder a freshly squeezed sugar cane juice. It is very sweet and incredily thirst quenching in my opinion.

Almost immediately we find ourselves next sitting at a food stall sharing a bowl of bitter melon and rib soup as well as a medicinal soup with pork knuckle.

Most items are quite cheap at these night markets so it was hard to resist a little more browsing and shopping. It wasn't the end of the night however as we came to the end of the night markets. Around the corner were a number of pet stores where small crowds gathered at the windows to look at the impossibly cute puppies and kittens. Mike and Jeri took the opportunity to buy Du a "birthday" present, seeing today was the fourth anniversary of Du's adoption from the animal shelter to their home. A new collar was added to two items that were already purchased earlier at Xi Men Ding: a New York Yankees top and a demin skirt!

It was 9:30pm as we started towards the MRT but something was missing. I felt I had room for more. So near the station we stepped into a small restaurant that had three tables and a take-out window, and had sticky rice and pork ball soup. A filling end to seven-hour outing!

We come home tired but content. Then we start to torment poor Du by subjecting her to her birthday presents (she does NOT like wearing clothese). But such is the life of a pet. It was such a laugh.

As I started to compose this entry my brother serves up sliced white peaches and passionfruit halves. Always nice to finish a meal with some refreshing fruit.

Did I also mention that Middle Autumn Festival is always around the time of the full moon? I promise you the photo on the left is the moon and not a spot light!

Big Day Out

I'm spending a week with my brother and his girlfriend in Taipei. It's the long weekend, cause it's 中秋節, or Middle Autumn Festival coming up on Tuesday. The cool, or rather, kind of odd thing they do here in Taiwan is that Monday is turned into a public holiday so you get four days off in a row, but then you have to make it up on Saturday. You make your own mind up.

Clockwise from top left: Pepper Cake; different kinds of deep fried mushrooms; Fort San Domingo; my bro with icecream tower.

We went to 淡水 (Tamshui) for lunch, which consisted of some famous wontons, traditional pepper cakes filled with pork and green onions, fried 'shrooms and finished with a double-flavour soft-serve icecream cone that was 30cm tall. We shared that last item.

The reason we went to Tamshui was because they were taking me horse riding at a stables near by! It was a proper lesson, not lame like being lead on the horse by a person on foot. The lesson lasted for 40 mins. At the end of the lesson I had to swing off the horse to disembark, or whatever the word is. Problem was, I had used my arms too much during the ride, and my biceps were so strained that they almost failed to support my weight as I pushed off the horse. Almost, but not entirely. It was when I attempted to undo my helmet and found I couldn't bend my arms up to reach the buckle under my chin that I realised how bad my arms were. Think of that classroom science experiment where you had to push your arms as hard as you can against the sides of a doorway for a few minutes, then step away to see your arms rise voluntarily to the sky. It was that effect on my arms then, 'cept it was going the opposite direction. I wondered how I was going to eat dinner tonight if I couldn't bend my arms to put food in my mouth.

On our way home we stopped off at 紅毛城 (Fort San Domingo). Here's a little history. In 1629 the Spaniads built the Fort. In 1642 the Dutch kicked the Spaniads out. The Fort is now known in Chinese as the Fort of the Red Hair, describing of the appearance of the Dutch occupiers. In 1867 the English leases it for 99 years from China and builds a British Consulate next to the Fort. But she hands it back in 1972 when England broke diplomatic ties with the Republic of China (different from the People's Republic of China. It's fascinating history, I suggest you look into this dear readers).

L: My bro and his GF devouring pepper cakes; R: The three amigos.

L: British Consulate at Fort San Domingo; R: View of shore opposite.

L: My new man in Taiwan; R: Dusk on way home.

By the time we reached home it was dinner time, and we made a grocery stop for BBQ supplies. It has become somewhat of a tradition now to BBQ around Middle Autumn Day and admire the beauty of the moon, as it's usually full moon the day of the Middle Autumn Festival.

In Taiwan you don't need no fancy schmancy BBQ grill powering on 6 gas cylinders, no big backyards size of football fields or city parks. In Taiwan all you need is your front door step, sometimes shop front, or in our case, the balcony for space is a premium here. If it's raining like it was for us, just put up two or three umbrellas and hook 'em to the railing. But perhaps consider having an extra umbrella on hand, for one of our umbrellas did decide to emancipate itself from BBQing duties and took flight from our 15th floor balcony to go dancing in the night. Foodwise we ate pork, chicken wings, fish, capsicum, mushrooms, clams, mince fish cakes, bamboo shoot and duck heart skewers. Taiwanese BBQs rock.


L: Check out our ultra small balcony BBQ action; R: Precautions against the rain.

L and R: Food.

L: More food; R: Taiwanese/ROC flag. It's not allowed to be flown in international arenas such as the Olympics. Go read up on this people!

Body sore but belly full. A good night's sleep beckons.