'Tis the season

Wow, Christmas is over and I hardly even knew it was here. In fact, for the first time in my life I think I feel a bit alleviated to have it be finished. If I could tell you one thing it would be that Buddhist's do not, in any way, do the Christmas thing like we do. I never really realized it but once you take out all the love and sentimentality of the wonderful holiday, it can feel hollow and stale like old bread. People think that Christmas in the States is becoming way too absorbed in the commercial aspects but I think they should see it here. These people practically think that we celebrate the holiday because it was the first time Frosty the Snowman came to be.

You know, when I was a kid, Christmas was a really special thing for me. It stayed that way until I left home and had to celebrate it away and even alone. Now that I am a working man life seems to be much shorter after the work is done. There is less time for play and even less energy for that play I earn. I feel like it was only yesterday that I had dreams of being a famous robber or even better, a real live garbage man and now the reality is debt and work. (But it ain't so bad)

However, I suppose after all that banter about how everyone seemed to forget about the meaning of Christmas I will go ahead and describe the grand Christmas show that our school put on this past weekend. We worked diligently for about six weeks on the show and it our immense work load finally culminated in a bizarrely successful night of children running around, sweating from stage lights, and curses thrown out by various adults in just as many various languages.

Some how my "charm" or "ability to get sucked into too many things" led to my being involved as an actor in my classes' skit and MC of both the two hour shows. Hooray, more work for me!!! So we worked way too hard and by the end my new arch nemesis (aka my Chinese teacher Brenda) was bitching at me like she was my accidental wife and mother to my ill-gotten bastard son. I mean Christ chick we teach first grade chill your ass!!! So she was way too stressed and therefore I decided to be not really troubled at all and thus even more of a poisonous thorn in the side of all these caffeine jacked nutcase Taiwanese teachers.

Somehow we made it through most of the night despite our differing opinions about how fun should be had and I thought that no major catastrophe would happen. I was wrong. To give you an example of how things were going, the two other classes in my show were naturally doing skits about Christmas where all the children got some time in the spotlight to say "I want a big and fast toy truck for Christmas Santy Claaauuus." Who wouldn't love that? It's simple and sweet and you know that you are getting the hell outta this shitass cramped and stinky theatre on the fifth floor of the library at a good hour. Then you have the last skit come on; mine of course. Now, I thought some sort of Charlie Brownesque play would be delightful for all those darling parents in the gum and stain invested seats in front of us. Sound good Brenda? Ohhhhh nooooo.

"Alright audience, weren't the last two performances great? Let's give them one more round of applause and then welcome my class with the 2008 Hess School Science Fair!" This was all I had to announce to make most of the fathers in the crowd (who even understood English) think, "Jesus, give me a gun right now and I'll do it. I'll end this misery." No Santa, no reindeer, certainly no Herby the little elf who just wants to be a dentist; just me and fourteen kids in white lab coats and big... black... afros (Taiwan's idea of an Albert Einstein impression.) Oh yeah, and a long boring skit about the wonders of science.

[I'll give you, oh faithful reader, a little background on the scumbagery of the this idea. You see our school is the most expensive English school on this entire island. They give the kids every opportunity in the hopes that it will help them evolve into Asia's next great generation and what it really does is begin a lifetime of unattainable expectations added to a giant early hear attack giving mountain of stress. My class in particular, is the cream of the white collar crop so they have to do every "fun" after school activity from piano, French and English tutor, dance, and every other thing possible. Most parents drop their kids off in Porsche's, Jaguars, and even a Ferrari and one parent came the night of the show with her best friend, the "Britney Spears" of the Taiwan music scene.

These fanatical parents insist that their kids have all these useless and expensive science textbooks and that I deliver insightful and scientific lectures for their 6 year old sons and daughters each week. (Remember these are kindergardners learning a second and often third language.) Needless to say, our school manager felt that by pumping up the science at the show would increase other parents interest in science for their kindergartners and thus sell more books. Ah the beauty of "educational ethics."]

Pardon,I'm getting way carried away because it was a rough day and I found out that I have to work tomorrow, that's right Saturday, at 8 am.

So the story continues. We go through the boring motions of our science fair with some of the old, "matter is anything that takes up space and has mass" from one six year old and "this is called a physical change" from the adorable 2.5 foot tall Nini. I think the only thing that held people's interest was all the giant bouncing afros on scattered throughout the stage.

Then comes the dreaded last scene. I had worked really hard to memorize all my stupid lines and those of the others so I could help them when the influx of cycloptic (yes I know it isn't a real word) parents was too much to handle. There was not a single person who didn't have some sort of camera to his face the entire show. So things were sailing along nicely and then I forget a line. Oops, one girl was missing and I had forgotten to say her part about the chemical change. I can already see Brenda growing livid with dissatisfaction. Then, boom! and pop! "What was that? Oh just a light bulb has popped. Oh and what would you know, a fire is emerging up in the rafters.....WAIT, HOLY SHIT A FIRE" I am thinking all this while the cameras snap away and the kids look at me wondering how I have forgotten my lines.

I freeze. I am now ruining the show throwing gestures to the side of the stage mouthing "THERE--IS--A--FIRE!" The flames are growing and a white smoke is beginning to collect and all Brenda can do is grow red-eyed with disgust waving at me to go on with the now completely unimportant skit. I ponder "what is more important, these bored parents hearing the definition of a liquid and solid or their children not making headlines for being burned to death as the acrylic afros melt to their small craniums?" I feel that my panic is justified and yet everyone else seems to believe that the show must go on. Rain or shine or growing inferno.

I struggle through some more lines and even receive a kick from the little girl standing next to me who can't see the fire and thus believes that her teacher and mentor is a brain dead idiot who still can't remember his part after 6 weeks of grueling and excruciating practice. The smoke is visible and yet still everyone seems more interested in finding out if the robot toy has more mass than the dolly. What can I do?

Finally the teachers decide, "well if it will make him happy we will do something about the growing fire in this crowded theatre filled with small innocent children." They get the fire down by fanning it and preforming some other much needed remedies and my stress level declines to only two future ulcers status and I stumble through the end of the show.

I am now visably drained of energy due to my flipout session combined with a sudden fatigue, and the big furry afro make me out to look like the ideal junky crack addict. I am physically shaking and yet what do I get for all my troubles? "Why did you forget your lines?" Brenda is actually fuming more than the previous fire.

"Why don't you shove it right up your ass you evil demon bitch!" I was doing a lot of angry thinking that night that filtered out as a calm and collective, "I apologize but weren't you aware of the fire?"

"We took care of the fire but you still messed up the show." Brenda retorts.

"Well I guess it is the end of the the fucking world that all these parents don't get to hear some useless science shit three days before Christmas." My far past irate screams once again get squeezed out as, "I am glad you took care of the fire and it just got me a little freaked out."

Brenda had nothing to say to this and walked off probably to go bite the heads off of chickens just to get her fill of death and hatred of all things unorganized and spontaneous.

Of course in the end I desperately needed to go get some fresh air and was stopped by many adoring parents with nothing but nice things to say about my teaching, my friendliness with the students, and their enjoyment of our "well-rehearsed" science fair. No one was displeased and no one died. It was a fair evening and it didn't stop until I was polishing off a bottle of Saki on my rooftop at 730 the next morning with Guillaume, the French man I met and went out with that night.

That there is an entirely different story in itself but I'm tired and I must depart to joylessly arise at 730 am for my early Saturday classes. Life ain't so bad but it sure isn't what I thought it would be when I wrote my second grade report about the wonders of being a garbage man in the future.

Tektonik

I must say my weekends in Taipei are interestingly spent. They are almost always filled with new, fun, exciting and a bit mind-boggling adventures. Quite the contrast from my weekends of the year past where I often didn't leave the comfort of my PJs for all three days. (I write this as I take a break from Sunday movie watching in my PJs right now.)

Let's just go ahead and start with Friday. The week was over and as it wasn't all that hard of a week I was feeling rather content and light hearted and in a merry mood. Ready for anything. I came home to my little mosquito invested casa to find Dunkle in a rather similar form of spirits and thus the inspiration for the night was born. "Let's go drink a bunch of scotch and then go to a Dutch DJ hosted rave," was our fantastic idea. "Why not....sounds like a good old time."

I have made a worthy effort to figure it out but for some reason there has been a big Chinese type festival going on all around us. Friday night started with Dunkle and I talking a leisurely walking around the neighborhood checking out the different festivities while once and a while taking a swig of Famous Grouse sctoch recently purchased at one of the fine 7-11 establishments. What amazed me then, and still does now as I listen to its music from outside the window, was the traditional Chinese musical theatre set up in the park next to our place. Dunkle and I took some time to enjoy the music of the Chinese violin and the dancing of the singing women (kimonos and make up and all.) It was pretty amazing and seeing that type of stuff really makes me appreciate the fact that I really do live in a place different from what I have ever known or will.

So after taking in some Taiwanese/Chinese culture and a bottle of the good stuff Dunkle and I were more than ready for a little high intensity drum and bass at one of the premier Taiwanese dance clubs. I think we were supposed to be meeting some people there but that pretty much fell apart when we just showed up (neon green T-shirts and all) with one idea: LETS DANCE LIKE IDIOTS IN FRONT OF ALL THESE PEOPLE! And man did we do it. We were all over this club dancing with absolutely no regard for what we must have looked like. I'm talking doing the wave sort of stuff with the hands and even spinning on the floor. At one point I stopped myself and went "holy shit, I'm dancing like an insane person who is simultaneously ceasing in front of all these people." Upon that realization I looked over at Dunkle and saw that he was doing the same thing and not only that but the crowd had made a circle around us and was cheering for us. No joke, we had become the life of the party.

That is when I knew it had to be done......dance contest! I started picking people at random and saying "you! Me! right now on the dance floor!" I then commenced to make a fool out of myself just because it was a Friday night and I live on an island off the coast of China. The best part was that I wasn't turned down from one single challenge. You see club folk take their dancing seriously and don't like to see a poser wannabe like me putting shame to their art. It was all very.....awesome.

After all this dancing Dunkle and I decided, "now it's time to meet some girls and show them our new found confidence." We talked to several girls and danced with a few more and things were looking up for us both. That was when I came up with what I thought was the best line ever given at a club. I walked "smoothly" (stumblingly) up to some girl and simply said "here take this and call me sometime." I walked back to Dunkle all smiles and said "oh yeah dude, that was sweet."

Dunkle's only reply was "dude you just gave that girl your cell phone. Why did you do that."

"Don't worry bro, she'll call," was my fabulous retort.

I still don't know where my cell phone is and I am probably going to have to buy another one.

The rest of the night was a blur of similar encounters where Dunkle and I managed to be the most prolific morons found in a nightclub. The funniest part was Dunkle waking up the next morning with of framed picture of us at the club that neither of us remember receiving.

The next day woke up with three hours of drunk sleep with the intention of meeting a pal for a nice Saturday lunch. I went to the rendez-vu point only to realize that I no longer had a cell phone which meant I had no way to contact anyone and no idea what time it was. I waited for an hour with no sight of my friend. Rather than dining with my friend at one of his favorite Indian restaurants I went to eat by myself where I realized that I almost hate Subway more than I do McDonalds. The food made me sick all day and I had to sleep on a concrete wall in a park for an hour because I didn't have time to go back home before my private tutor.

Sometimes I surprise myself at my inability to grow up. Sorry ma and pa I know you guys are wondering when I will retire my childishness but it was unfortunately not this weekend. At least I can admire that fact that I am becoming one of the best teachers at our school. I am on the list with the A level teachers and all the kids like me. I guess weekday Putt and weekend Putt are two different sides of the same face.

Mack's Lounge in Taiwan

Man fuck McDonald's! I am sorry. I know I have been pretty good to abstain from cursing on this blogue but I can't help saying it as I sit in this chair feeling like an old miserable piece of crap. I think I would enjoy the feeling of eating pesticide more than McDonald's. Just in case you didn't know, I just ate some today and feel like some kind of farm animal took a giant shit down my throat and now the toxin is sitting there, cooking in the bowels of my insides just waiting to pass through more vital organs and thus pollute my body more.

That place sucks so bad and yet I eat it on average about once a week. What it is about that giant arch that seems so irresistable to the hungry wonderer. I mean back home people eat it because it is a quick and easy alternative to going to a real restaurant where you are treated like a person. The line at McDonalds makes you feel like you are in the same assebly line that the cow you are about to eat was in. I just can't stand the damn turd palace.

The experience of eating this garbage food is only made worse by the fact that I can't even communicate what the hell I want to eat. I mean you really feel like a piece of shit when you're too stupid to even order the manure food that you are about to regret eating. I go there because I consider it an alternative to going to some Taiwanese restaurant where I don't know what to order because it is all displayed in crazy character form. So instead I go into the dirt shack and hold out four fingers like some idiot who just fell down a flight of stairs and I yell "COKE." I couldn't even figure out how to get a Sprite today because they call it something different in Chinese. I am worthless.

Why do I put myself in these humiliating positions where I am made the brain dead pupil of Docter "works the cash register at Mcdonalds" who has to guess from my stupid looking facial expressions if I would like a small or a large fry. I don't want any of that crap....well... ok gimme a big mac.

Somehow when you eat at these shaddy belt popping establishments you always spill something on yourself too. That really pisses me off. Not only am I eating food that is one step away from being pig feed, but I just dumped some of this shit onto myself as if I was some clumsy horse sloppily eating out of a goddamn trough. What a terrible place.

They don't even have red box DVD rental or Dr. Pepper at the Mack's lounge here in Taiwan which means I really am going there just to eat there gutter slop food.

You know what's funny? Dunkle eats there probably like three times a week and I honestly think he likes it. Whenever I come home to that dank, cancer giving smell of old soggy hamburger buns in my house I know that Dunkle has just finished "fat boyin' it up," as we call this miserable experience. Why is it that we can't resist the urge to go get a food hangover from the shit shack? We can't fight the urge. It's like a disease that makes you want a disease.

Everytime I leave the restaurant I bow my head in embarrassment as if I was walking out of some low grade scum bag porno theatre. "Mothers hide your children! That fatass just crammed his face with a mud burger. You can tell because it's plastered all over his wrinkly dirty old shirt. What a regect!"

The Mack's by our house is the funniest because if you don't want to make the "high intensity" walk up the stairs to where the seating is, you can simply take the one table on the first foor. There is literally one single solitary table next to the order station where you can often amuse yourself by checking out the fat old doofus sticking fries up his nose because he can't get them in fast enough with his already full trash can mouth. That table is when reaching the lowest level isn't enough and you just have to admit that your life is that horrible and you are the reason for all the wars and disease exist in the world. They should call it the "Sweatpants Only" section.

So while a lot of food here is very good there still does exist that sickening tope tiled oil leaking ball of melanoma that is Mcdonalds. And yet many others here call it the American Embassy. I hope that one day I will be able to fully renounce that terrible place once and for all, but for now I will just have to accept that sometimes I am so desperate for a hambuger that go into the restaurant that makes me feel like Jabba the hut's alcoholic inbred half brother.

Maybe it isn't so bad.

In my time traveling the world I have found myself in a lot of rather uncomfortable situations. I am always the foreigner and even when I think I have accurately assimilated into whichever society I might be visiting at the moment, there still exists those strange and awkward moments that remind me of what a stranger I really am.

I think when I look at my two contrasting experiences in France and Taiwan they appear to be on opposite sides of each other. Both experiences have been plentiful and eye opening while very different from each other. When I was in France it was often the things that I did that seemed overtly bizarre and strange whereas in Taiwan it is all the actions of those around me that makes me realize how out of place I am.

When I was in France I was always trying to look the part and be cool. I never wanted to seem like a tourist who just wanted that 500th picture of the Eiffel tower. I would walk up and down the streets of Paris trying to act like I knew exactly where I was going and yet I didn't care if I ever got there. A lot of the French people have this type of attitude where they are always in a state of wondering with no real direction. They walk from cafe to cafe and enjoy people watching and reading the paper. I think a lot of times people consider that an example of the classic French laziness and perhaps that is true. I tried to accomplish this type of living and perhaps at times I did but I always felt like an outsider no matter how much black clothing I wore.

In contrast, Taiwan has made me realize that it is not my actions that make me feel foreign but rather how everyone else reacts here that seems so crazy to me. I mean they have rivers and oceans and trees just like we do back home and yet the things that happen within this landscape simply blows my mind. I feel like our culture has become so omnipresent that almost everyone knows a little bit about us in every part of the world. Everyone has heard of Justin Timberlake and most anyone can quote from one of their favorite American movies and yet what do we know about Taiwan, or many other places for that matter.

When I arrived in Taiwan I didn't know a thing about it. I mean nothing, nada, no nothing. Come to think of it I still don't really know a whole lot about the going ons of this place. I have seen many things and I have already had some interesting culture clashes and experiences that I feel have changed my impression of the place, but it is still such a mystery. I know little about this place even though every time I looked under one of my plastic toys and saw a Made in Taiwan sticker, I was seeing a part of it.

They speak Chinese hear, Mandarin to be specific. They speak another form of dialect called Taiwanese but it really all sounds like some crazy from of hip hop lyrics spoken too fast for me to even attempt to comprehend. There are also a lot of people from the Philippines here and I often here them speaking to each other in a quieter voice as they are the less respected minority group of people here. Their language sounds, to me, a little like Spanish which is sort of funny.

The food they eat here is really sort of strange but I enjoy it most of the time. They have the classic "I dare you" type of foods like old rotting chunks of tofu appropriately named "Stinky Tofu," but they don't compare to the wacky vomit inducing dishes of the mainland China. Apparently those people will eat every single thing that you could possibly think of......everything. The Taiwanese are really big about their food and culture and since they would all say "Fuck China!" with the drop of a hat, I imagine it will stay that way.

Certain things here are old seeming and traditional while others are fascinatingly new and stunning. I am now feel as if I am beginning to understand the simple aspects of their way of life and that has made me feel pretty good and almost as if I am at home. Taiwan is a place where everyone smiles at you and oftentimes people will say hello as your passing by. You can go into the same restaurants and stores and the people remember you and are happy to see you in again. I don't think I will ever convert 100% to this strange and new life but the majority of it is rather suiting at this juncture in my travelling career.

Plenty of Fish in the sea.

Sorry to have left you in disappointment but I have to say that I felt obligated to remove my post from last week due to complaints of its offensiveness. While I will try to be a bit more sympathetic in certain regards, please do not worry, my blogues will not turn into mindless boring blurbs that have no "color" or appeal. I shall not disappoint.

So for today's little bit of Taiwanese Enlightenment I would like to discuss a recent night I had where I encountered my first rendez-vu with a real live Taiwanese girl.

The story starts like all great love stories, in a crowded, rap playing, smoke-infused night club at about 330 in the morning. I was perusing around the "club" seeking to indulge my sweet tooth in a bit of the old booty dancing. I tried dancing with some girls here and there in the rap music room but none felt like they might offer the sort of emotional depth that I look for in a girl I meet at some random club in the middle of the night. So I decided I would make my way over to the techno room where dancing there is merely of form jumping around and doing whatever the hell you want to do. It was there that by chance I met a delightful young lady by the name of Katrina.

We didn't really do much talking in between our circling and hip thrusting on the dance floor but we did meet eyes once and I while and I knew that I had found a real spark plug of sorts. We spent the rest of the night together bouncing from her table to mine and enjoyed ourselves as any self respecting clubbers might do by drinking long pours from various liquor bottles randomly distributed throughout both tables. In all this Katrina was quick enough to put her phone number on my phone which saved me the rest of the night when I forgot her name every five minutes. To make things short we spent the night having fun and I woke up on my buddies couch not quite sure as to where I was. (He found himself on the bathroom floor.) Quite classy in all.

After that night I thought that we would never see each other again and I was quite saddened at having to accept that I might never see my dance partner again. That thought only lasted about 5 minutes between when I woke up at 130 in the afternoon and her first call rang on my phone. I let the phone ring simply because I did not quite feel awake enough to enjoy a good ole chat with my new princess. I talked to my friend about the night and had some laughs at other happenings that had taken place throughout all the while watching the calls and text messages mount up and up.

After a good breakfast I left my friend's house and decided to respond to the 4 calls and 3 text messages I had received from Katrina. I found her to be quite well and excited at having met me the previous night. She certainly made that clear by her desire to talk this day. We talked a little about not much and the whole time I was finding it a bit hard to bridge our different language abilities. "Oh well, I'll give it a chance" I thought, "we could have a good time." So we made plans to go on a lovely date the next Wednesday.

Wednesday was a long wait, especially for Katrina who called me every couple of hours those next two days and even sent me a late night text message saying "I miss you so much." This started making me think, "why don't I miss her too? Did we not have a 'connection' at the alcohol fueled binge party? Do I really know anything about this girl? Do I even know what she looks like? " Nonetheless, Wednesday did indeed arrive as it often does and our date was planned.

I was going to go right after work so I had to dress a bit nicer than I normally do for work. I didn't know what to say as to my night's plans because I really didn't know what was going to happen. I didn't even know where we were meeting. I don't think I really knew anything.

I called Katrina after work and had another in our fantastic attempts in conversation that would have been made so much easier if I could just speak some Chinese.

"Hi, how are you?" I said
"Hi, why you always say how are you before me?" she asked
"Uhhhh... well I want to know how you are."
"Yes, but you want me to ask?"
"You can ask."
"But you always ask first. I cannot ask" she didn't seem upset.
"I am sorry, you want to ask now?"
"No"
I thought at this point it would be a good time to shift the conversation to a new topic that might be a bit more successful.
"So are you ready to hang out tonight?" Aren't I sly.
"Hang? What you do? I don't understand. You come to my office?" I didn't remember conversations like these during our club night. Although I wasn't sure if we had really talked about much that night.
"Yeah, I will come to your office." I said
"You come here?" she asked excitedly.
"Ok, but can you tell the taxi man how to get to your office?" I rarely ride a taxi on my own and if I do I usually just say one street I sort of know and then say stop when he drives me somewhere I recognize. I do a lot of walking this way.

After she consented to help me out I found a cab and immediately handed the phone to the cab driver who proceeded to talk about where to go and maybe asked why all these stupid Americans come around their country not knowing shit about anything and still picking up girls. Or maybe they talked about something else, I don't really know.

I got there and had just enough money to pay the cabby with the change in my pocket. I was a little scared because I didn't know where I was and had forgotten to pick up any money before going on this date. I was already imagining the apron I would wear as I washed dishes to pay for our meal.

Luckily the man dropped me off and I paid him. Once the cab drove off I realized, I am in a different part of town now but I still don't know where I am, what I am supposed to do, or who I am looking for, oh and I am out of money. Some planning eh?

Luckily, I got back in contact with Katrina and eventually she figured out I was on a street corner actually quite cold because I was planning on spending my hard saved jacket money (fresh out the ATM) on tonight's dinner.

She came out the doors and man was I shocked. A vague image of her floated back into my head but she still seemed a lot different than the Taiwan's Next Top Model that I thought I might have met in my sloppy slurry condition. She was indeed a bit older and a less attractive. However, nothing terrible just a little different. I quickly realized that I was perhaps not the Brad Pitt she had imagined either, so I put on a smile and got ready for a nice evening.

Katrina and I talked while walking to an "American" restaurant she thought I would like and I felt like the conversation was flowing a lot better than it had on the phone. Sure the sentences were choppy and void of many grammar complexities but the heart was there and it was strong.

We stopped in front of the doors of an English pub and she said, "here we are." Ok maybe not quite an American spot but maybe they just think all white people look the same and are the same. I think maybe other cultures are guilty of that one too.

We went in and sat down and looked at menus and I ordered a beer because I thought I might want one once things got going and then the conversation began...

"So, what do you think?" Wow, as if English wasn't hard enough for this girl I have to start the chat with that crappy ass question.
"What you say?" Ok totally my fault let's try that again.
"So am I a disappointment to you?" What the hell am I doing? Did I fall down the stairs right before entering this bar?
"Disappoint me. Oh you not tall and ehhhhhhhhh you are not handsome. But you are cute." Ok so I deserved that one. Maybe not so soon into the date but ok, you start conversations like this one and things like that are bound happen.
"Well sorry, I guess we had a wilder night than we might have thought." I said.
"What you say?" Ok, give up on that one.
"Do you like movies?" I was really trying this time.
"Yes, I like all movies, but not many movies......eh.....sorry what you mean?" she asked with a smile.
"No you are right. I like a lot of movies too." Hey look at that we were agreeing on something. Maybe this date would work out.

We continued a simple talk like this and I must say that I got over the fact that she was going to be completely honest about how she felt with the situation and maybe she understood that I was not going to be very honest about how I thought things were going. It was pretty much like every other date I have ever been on.

And I think that is when I realized "hey, she does look older than the 28 that she told you and is a bit disappointed that you are only 26 (oops), and maybe she isn't the prettiest bird out there, and maybe she did make you change meals right when they were put on the table because she liked your obviously better dish more, and maybe she smoked several menthols after eating about about three bites of her meal that cost me my jacket money, and maybe she did have to go at nine because she still lives with her parents and has to be home early, and maybe I did at one point think about asking her what her favorite color was because the conversation had dwindled down to a tiny belt holding our giant waist of mistranslation together; but maybe she isn't so bad?"So maybe I will hang out with this girl, or I suppose I should say woman seeing as how she has a car and a career and all, again.

Or maybe I won't. Later that night I went to a Taiwanese bar with Dunkle where, using my post date confidence, I got three numbers from some girls who were in fact young and quite beautiful. Maybe I just gotta keep on playing that ball game until I find a good one. Plenty o' fish in Taiwan.

Another one coming soon to a theater near you.

That is all I can say right now because I stayed up too late watching Lord of the Rings. Sorry. Don't worry, I still care about you all a great deal and I won't let you down. I already have a new collection of wild and interesting stories to impart upon you. I am also getting paid tomorrow which means this weekend you can be assured that I will have something good to report. Keep your eyes open.

Sickness in Asia

Hey there, I don't know what I gotta say but I need to stay committed to my little blogueing effort and so I must write a little something something here. Let's see, things have been ok. Life has been a series of minor ups and downs but nothing outrageously exciting. I guess that is how normal life becomes wherever you live.

Probably the most amazing thing that I have witnessed since I have been here has been the wild effects of the Chinese medicine. I was battling with some serious ear ache problems and it was really messing with my professional judgement. I mean when your ears really hurt it doesn't really screw with any part of your body except the two small holes that go straight through to your brain. It was like the sickness made everything I heard or witnessed turn into some sort of irritating babble. Imagine having to go to class with a bunch of crazy loud ass Chinese lookin' kids with the feeling that your brain is going to explode. It was like that except that it was real and it was real sucky. I tried to be an ok guy but I was one cranky son of a bitch.

But hey I got off the subject of the medicine. I had another fantastic "what the hell am I doing" experience when I went to a "Medical clinic" (or so I thought) to talk to a doctor and/or get doped up on some feel good pills. I first gave it a shot and walked in to a sterile bright white room covered in shelves piled with different bottles of mysterious pills. I went up to the lady who was already looking at me like "please don't talk to me and ruin my whole day. I am just about to get off." I asked her as physically as I could, hands all in the air and whatnot, "can you help me? My ears are so hurt and I want to see a doctor. I don't know what to do." Normally I have to yell at Taiwanese people because somehow I think that screaming a foreign language into someones ear can make them understand this unknown language better. However, you add the fact that at this point my ears are so backed up with sickness that I can barely hear anything, and I am practically screaming at this poor woman.

She brings out someone else who makes me feel a little better because at least she has snappy glasses and a white lab coat. I go through the same awkward and loud description of my misery and she simply replies, "you no want heeya. We heeya makeah Chinee medcin. You wan go to oddah doctah." She continues with this to the best of her abilities. I mean I can't complain because all I could do was prepare about fifty cheh chehs (thank yous) upon my departure. She then wrote a bunch of hieroglyphics onto a piece of paper indicating some place. Who knows.

I continued to wonder around almost deaf at this point with no luck. At one point I thought I might have arrived into something right but it turned out to be some sort of third rate dentist on the forth four of a dilapidated building. I can honestly say that I just peeked in and saw a guy writhing in a chair with some sort of dentist over his face. It was scary and lets just say that I have added a third brushing to my daily schedule just to avoid any encounter like that in the future. I think that guy might have been involved in the inspiration for the hostel movie.

In the end I gave up for the night and spent the night pissed off on my couch feeling crappy and deaf.

The next day I tried to call off work because I felt even worse and what do you think my boss says? "How about you come to your first class (which is the worst and the loudest) and then I will take you to the doctor." Ok, sort of unfair trade but I guess I really did need some sort of interpreter.

Basically my boss, who is hot and young and I want her to get a divorce and run away with me, took me to another craptown clinic with coughing and wastebasket vomiting gallor. In Asia things like that are no problem to preform in public. You often hear loud burps and farts all over while on the busses here. Wonderful. I waited about 30 minutes before I was finally taken into a room that really did look like a torture chamber just with more lighting. My boss had left at this point because I kept saying how stupid I felt and how I really needed to grow up and figure shit out for myself. The doctor was hopefully a qualified doctor but in no way an English prof. He did a little "inspection" of my ear holes and then made his diagnosis; "Well, I see some information in there."
"Excuse me?" I replied.
"Yeah, I can rearry see some information there," he insisted.
"Well what kind of information?" I was really wondering what sort of information this man had found. Had someone placed some microfilm in my ear in the night only to be discovered by this mask wearing doctor of misinterpretation?
"Yeah, redness and information," he says.
"Oooohhhhhhh," I say, keeping off the upcoming laughter, "you see some inflamation do you?"
"Yeah, inframation," he said so wonderfully coherently.

Half of the appointment was us going through difficult and funny conversations like that one. In the end he sent me the wrong way towards a pharmacy.

I found the place and was given a wild "cocktail" of pills that the Asians are known to prescribe. All sorts of stuff and even some eye drops that I was instructed to drop in my ear.

In the end, the funniest part was that after only 30 minutes of dropping my crazy concoction of pills I needed to take a quick pee. I peed and almost fell over in shock at the sight of what had just been polluted out of my body. My pee was school bus yellow. No that doesn't even do it justice. Have you ever had that orange Gatorade? Well I was pissing that out and it scared the hell out of me. I couldn't believe it. I thought if I were to cut myself my blood would be a solid bright green goo as if I truly was turning into some sort of monster. It was crazy and I made sure that over the next four days, while taking this bizarre medicine, everyone I knew here had either seen the magical pee or at least heard about it. I was truly fantastic and I hope that it will never part from my memory.

Road trippin' with my favorite allies.

It is pretty hard to try to remember and recount happy moments when you feel as shitty as I do right now but I am going to try. (I have gone back to feeling like a six year old again with not one but two ear infections. It doesn't feel good at all but I supposed I would be really dizzy if was only sick in one ear.) I think it is going to be a really long time before I can actually be sick and have any idea as to what I am supposed to do with myself. Most of my sick moments have been eased by my mother patting me on the head while serving me any type of feel good material I have would have need for. Now I am in China land and it makes going to the doctor about as appealing as drowning while getting kicked in the nuts by a steal toed boot. I went into the doctor's office today and was roughly told that it was a Chinese medicine place. Maybe they could give me some sort of tea and a cockroach to crawl around my brain eating up the illness. Who knows?

DAY ONE

Now I don't want to end up depressing you fellow readers so I will give you the details of my first weekend spent outside of Taipei. I and several of my comrades assembled a hodge podge of scooters and took ourselves a road trip into the mountains. We had wanted to go somewhere for the "vacation," and when all the buses to the beach were sold out we picked the music festival in the waterfall littered forest option. We were not disappointed in the end.

After an invigorating and beautiful 2 hour cruise up into the heart of the island we arrived at a makeshift campsite where we would spend the next three days doing all the fun, wild, and horrible things one does at a music festival. (Rest assured though, it was a drug free weekend. Not for everyone else, but yes for us.) We set up our tents under the designated "camp site" and deplorably awaited the time when we would decide to retire to our homes resting under a concrete foundation. We all decided that this weekend would just have to be about something else besides sleep.

Some of the features included in this "festival" as they would like to call it were a 18, no-name, but often talented, band lineup, 24 hour bar, three swimming pools, two hot springs, lots of girls, and all for the low low price of 20 dollars for the whole weekend. (camping included.) Not too bad if you think about it. Hell even you don't!

The first night was like any first night of a three day binge: way too much alcohol, dancing and making an ass out of one's self in front of all sorts (good and bad) of girls. In general we call it overexertion. It would sort of be like running a marathon the day before you do the iron man except there is no honor in what we did. We told jokes and stories, pushed people we didn't know into pools, and watched others on hallucinogens run around climbing trees and trying to tell you which star was their favorite. Oh by the way, you know which group was the easy majority at this hippy festival in the mountains?........that's right, the wi go ren as they call us, or as we are more commonly know: dirtbag white folk.

DAY TWO

Going to bed at 330 am in a tent laying on a concrete foundation turned out to be just a terrible idea on our part. This was because only 2.5 hours later while taking a quick one tenth awake pee break I ran into a group of crazed out South African Asian bitches screaming at me while laughing at the same time. These girls were claiming that I had both thrown up on them and into the pool in some sort of drunken rage. Now I know for a fact that this was not me because I was sleeping at the time and I also was still clear headed enough to know what I had or hadn't done. That and the fact that these girls were acting like they had eaten horse tranquilizer hamburgers before talking to me so I wasn't sure their judgement could be trusted.

Luckily the daemon women left me and what do you know? I couldn't return to my slumber. I don't know if it was the general discomfort of the rock hard tent or the fact that I was frighteningly shivering under my Kleenex blanket, of which was my only sleeping material at the time and now still, but I just couldn't go back to dream land. So I ran barefoot on the gravel filled ground as pathetically as I could to the hot springs where I spent the next 1.5 hours watching the crap end of the party people crashing over each other and the dudes in the collared shirts still trying to muster up the courage to simply say to their girls, "so you wanna check out my tent?"

My saving grace was in those hot springs where I met the only other person awake for the morning. It was a friendly 30 something woman and her 7 year old daughter. I split my time talking to her about her life in New Zealand and throwing her daughter into the air much to the wee one's delight. The best moment was when a Taiwanese woman who had joined the fun said, "why don't you get your daddy to play with us?" in reference to yours truly. Ever so politely I shouted, "oh oh ah ah ah no she isn't mine!" (oops) The best part was the Asian woman not wondering how two white people would make a half black child like the one in question. I guess she wasn't paying attention.

After my "bath" I went and tried to rouse my compatriots once again (only 7:30 now) to the same "what the hell are you doing awake?" and a nice middle finger for a finish. I thought instead, since the sun had risen, I would take a nice scooter ride to get some well deserved coffee. Only about 800 metres into my ride I saw a girl walking on the side of the road, and what do you think I did? I pulled right over and said nothing more than, "hop on and lets have some coffee baby." I even added baby just so I could tell it in the story later. Cheese dick to the rescue!!!

I thought maybe I recognized her from the party and when she screamed from behind my hog, "you're Andrew right?" I knew I probably had met her. Me and my meeting too many people at parties. So we took a nice ride down the mountain, stood by the water falls, talked about our families and music and got some coffee and lunch. I must say, it all made for a nice morning and I was delighted to have risen at such an early hour.

The rest of the day I tried to cling to some sort of deep rooted energy no one thought I had. I continued to jest and have fun with everyone as I always do. Sure, I was a little loopy but no more than anyone else who had slept little or none that night. After a while we thought we would take a break from the party world and scoot on down into town and visit our French friend Guillame.

Andrew and Graeme (the South Africans), Dunkle, David and Jennifer (the cool work couple), Francheska (the girl who made fun of me all weekend for some reason), Leslie (the new girl from the campground), and myself strapped on our helmets and peaced up out for the day.

We ate and we walked around, took pictures (which I will eventually post), and I quickly became the foot dragging complainer I can sometimes be after nights like the previous one. The highlight of the day was when Guillame and his friend took us down to the locals only hot springs. Man let me tell you, walking in there I could not have felt more out of place. Half naked Asians taking hot showers and laying in boiling pools of water, and they all couldn't stop looking at us, the wi go rens. But this feeling only stayed for a brief moment until I took a shower while using old laundry detergent bottles to pour scalding water all over myself. I think the most fun we had was when all of us poured twelve bottles of lava water onto one person. You could have cooked a lobster in this stuff and off course we are throwing it around and laughing like a bunch of idiots. I probably laughed the most when I helped an old man by pouring water on him while another Asian guy poured water on me. Maybe we are descended from monkeys. It was great and once again we realized that getting all the attention here really is pretty great.

After that we ate at a place where they serve you whole cooked chickens and then you wear gardening gloves to aid in ripping the shit out of the recently diseased bird. Graeme, my new partner in crime, saw how quickly we were fading after dinner and made an affirmative decision. There was no way we could try to soberly sleep on the concrete tents again, so we would simply have to go out wild again techno dancing in the rain with any girl and all girls. We also got squirt guns that turned out to be rather effective ice breakers.

So that was the weekend and I must say I thoroughly enjoyed it. In fact I enjoyed reliving it so much that I actually feel a lot better. I mean my ears still feel like someone took a shit in them while jabbing a hot poker in my brain, but no worries. That was the first really good weekend I have had since Thailand and it reminds me that maybe a person can adapt to any place.

Is Hungry a country or a state of mind?

To answer that question I would say that for me Hungry is a state of misery that I find my myself meandering through almost every day. I am now in my second year living below the poverty level and I think it is starting to mess with me. Or at least it is starting to mess with my stomach.

While in France I was forced to survive off of not much money at all. When you consider that Paris is one of the most expensive cities in the world, I was most certainly on the poverty line. I once saw one of those exclusive "le Dateline" shows in France that did an expose on people who were poor in Paris. I kept thinking, how do these people live like this? How can they survive? I then soon found out that most of the "victims" made almost twice as much money as I did. Now that seems odd.

There are many ways to dealing with one's poverty and almost all of them rely on you feeling bad in some way. You may feel unhealthy, you may feel guilty, or you may feel rotten for all sorts of reasons.

Food is something we all need. If you try to say otherwise you are a complete idiot because like water and air, it is just something you gotta get once and while. When you are trying to salvage your money it seems like anything but your food should be what you skip out on. Every day I find myself between the option of the shit behind an alley food or some legitimate good stuff. I always go with the first option because it always seems like a good idea at the time to save a little green. So I have found myself day after day eating this retched food that really does make me feel sick at times. I find that if I keep it cheap maybe I will be able to use that leftover money for something else that I need. I have really gone with this philosophy for around a year now.

The option that I don't recommend is simply to stop eating all together. The nice part about this is that if you just don't eat, you don't have to pay for food at all. At first I wanted to try my own version of "fasting" simply because I new that others had done it and survived and had actually felt changed in some way from it. I can honestly say that giving up food for so long a time did make me appreciate my meal once it was finally steaming in front of me. The smells were more potent and I could feel the tasty morsels filling the empty voids in my body. It was really rejuvenating.

But I mean that was a long time ago when I would waltz through the lively streets of Paris wondering how much longer I could go denying myself the carnal pleasures of food. (In the end I almost always chose doner kebab too, so it really wasn't that much of a step up.) Those days were good because as I stumbled from cafe to cafe I could imagine myself as one of the hunger crazed artists who's barren stomach released sparks into his brain which thus aided his creative genius. But that was how I felt. I acutally looked like some stinky bum wondering around aimlessly with nothing else to do. I guess I sort of was that description.

The difference is that now I am here in Taiwan and I am much much poorer. I had come to this wonderful island believing that I would make my big payday and I would be able to begin my ascent/descent into real life adulthood. What has actually happened is that my whiskers grow quicker, my clothing has become less diverse, and my hunger more profound. The other day I set a new record; a 30 hour hunger strike. It is miserable but I have begun to acquire quite the endurance for hunger because I hardly eat. I don't know why I choose to save money on something I love so much and need so badly but every time it happens the same way.

I said that when you give food a break it seems all the more delicious later, but here it isn't always true. You can either eat some really great food and some food that makes you want to throw up just writing about it. Of course I wouldn't be able to throw much up because I haven't eaten in about 18 hours.

I try to keep myself on a regular cycle of eating and I take advantage of free food whenever it comes by but that just simply doesn't do in this hunger lifestyle I have begun to acclimate to. I will often hope that I get to my school early enough to steal some of the cafeteria food and I almost always miss the deadline. This means that for the rest of school I have to maintain a positive and patient attitude while my stomach begins to absorb my muscles because the fat is already gone. That is the edible fat. My boss has on several occasions informed me that I need to do some work on my "tummy." The Asians here are such a kind and honest people.

There are two types of hungry people in the world. There are those types of people who do not have food and they do not know when their next meal may arrive. They go about their day to day activities just the same as anyone else but they do it without any food based energy inside them. The same people who would give a bit a food to someone else before consuming it themselves. These are the people that you and I should admire because while they have no choice in what they eat, they still survive.

There are also people like me. Now I will tell you, I really am poor and even when I do start to make any real money that money will have to go back to other people who have had to hear me say over and over "just help me a little bit and I will get it back to you." I have to borrow money in order to still look poor which gives no satisfaction to those who loan the money. People like me are hungry because they don't know what the hell they are doing and they make impulsive decisions that put them in the position of having to deny themselves sustenance in the first place. These are the people that you probably won't be sympathetic to but you can at least laugh at their slightly less miserable predicament.

So is Hungry a country or a state of mind? Well I travelled to hungry by myself and I was so poor then that I had to sleep in a bus station with a bunch of hobos who smelled like rotten pumpkins and I can tell you for sure that I had some hungry times then as well.

Lazy Typhoon Days

Let me tell you something. While the idea of a typhoon may sound scary (especially with the complicated ph instead of the simple f) it really isn't so bad. Basically the storm began today when I arrived home at about 7 in the morning. It was as if each cloud were a giant sponge being squeezed dry and therefore crapping out pounds and pounds of rain on me. Actually I think it might be a little more technical but that should be close. It has been raining all day today and while I don't mind a little rain it is weird being trapped in one's house all day. The funny part is that even if it were nice out today I would probably still just lay around my house not doing anything. But that isn't the point. The forced confinement is way worse than the voluntary confinement that I often subject myself to each weekend.

So that is what's going on right now, besides the fact that I just lost at cards and got sore about it so I had to leave. Now I can tell you faithful reader, I am trying hard to not simply make a record of my weekend adventures but rather give you something new and intriguing each week. So what I am going to do this time is tell you a small story from an excellent weekend that made many great moments. Than after I do that maybe I will try something else. Maybe I will complain about something or tell you about how much I miss tacos to the point where I would eat one if I saw it laying on the ground. That would be something new right?

Well either way this particular story gave me a bit of a tickle in my funny bone. Well at least it did the next day when I could get over the slight awkwardness of it all.

On Friday night Dunkle and I went to a club/bar with some friends that was called Hips. This particular club is a Latin club in the middle of China where you can be assured to find people from all over Latin America. People have tried to explain to me the complexities of why there are so many Spanish speakers around here and I think I sort of understand.

You see back in the 1950s when tension was growing between China and Taiwan a man named Julio Gonzago came from Panama with an offer that none could refuse. He was determined to sell his famous "Chickititata" plant to the neighboring Chinese people. The Chinese and the Taiwanese were in talks of making a trade embargo that would put them on the map psychologically and fiscally. When the "Chickititata" plant arrived in both countries there were mixed reviews because the plant had very strange ingredients that would make one very slow and unresponsive. While the Chinese did not embrace this plant Julio Ines received rave reviews by the Taiwanese and was elected "chairman of agriculture" for Taiwan. Thus the relationship was made and since then many have come from afar to live, eat "Chickititata" plant and dance salsa in this one club that Dunkle and I went to. Ok I don't really know why there are so many Central Americans here but it is pretty cool because the girls are hot and me like dat much.

Dunkle and I were having a pretty good time and we had met a good amount of people in a quick amount of time. We were having drinks and telling jokes and really just enjoying ourselves. I began talking to a pretty little lady named Leslie and was subsequently dragged onto the dance floor for a little rug cutting and what not. It was a little intimidating because Latin girls always know how to dance well and they can tell that my jumping around throwing my hands in the air is not a rehearsed move I got from my days working with Timberlake. Nevertheless, we were having fun and I was pretty happy with how things were going. Suddenly a girl came up to us with Jorge or Alfonso and I was startled. It appeared that this girl happened to have a twin sister. She tried at first to introduce me and her sister very quickly brushed me off and started talking to Leslie a bit abrasively. After only a minute Leslie ran off like there was a damn fire in the building. I stood there watching her run off and was like, "and who the hell are you making her run off?" I was trying to be somewhat cordial but it seemed like she had said something fiery (as latins often are) to her sister. So I said screw this and walked off.

After pondering what had happened Leslie came back. I started with "What happened? You just ran off."
"Me. You ran off from me. What it that all about?" she retorted.
"Are you kidding I was just standing there and then you just peaced out."
This went on for awhile and we moved on to other things and they were all clouded by this somewhat crappy attitude on her side. I talked to her for a good twenty minutes with many confusing looks made by both of us. I mean it felt like I was talking to an entirely different person, what had happened?

Ahhhhhh, I very lately realized. I had been talking to this girl's sister the entire last twenty minutes. I was completely flabbergasted. I really felt stupid and yet somehow she had not detected that I thought she was someone else. I can't imagine what she said to her sister later but it was probably something along the lines of "that dude is completely off his rocker and has no idea how to communicate with girls."

So I felt pretty stupid about that happening and now that I just wrote the whole story out I am going to have to apologize for it not being very interesting. I guess I thought it was funny at the time but some things grow old with time, even if it is just a weekend. Well they can't all be gold.

The rest of this weekend was followed by many fun times and new people and it ended last night with me stumbling into some Asian people's karaoke birthday party. They immediately invited me in and I sang some duets and drank some of their whiskey. It was fun and we all stayed together until 630 singing and laughing and hanging out. Very fun.

This is quickly becoming an adventure that I will certainly continue to enjoy more with each day. We have now entered a new season and that means new things to look forward to. Who knows what will come with the next day.

What a life to lead.

Well I am still here somehow and I am still alive. That is good enough news I suppose. Things are quickly becoming comfortable here in little old Taipei and I think just maybe I am going to be able to survive here. Let's see I suppose a lot of pretty interesting things have happened in the past couple of days.

Let's start all the way back at yesterday. Yesterday was a pretty fun day and it was my first time since I have been here that I voyaged to some other distant part of this island. It wasn't even very hard because I simply had to take the metro all the way down from my house. You wouldn't believe it but if I take the metro, that is directly outside of my house, and I ride it for about 30 minutes, I will arrive at the edge of the island and thus the ocean. It is pretty amazing to consider because I have never lived so close to something as wonderful as water. Now if I actually wanted to go to a swimming beach I would then have to take a bus or something for about ten minutes. But still, there is nothing like eating spicy squid while walking down the fisherman's wharf. And to be honest I don't even know if it was a wharf or if it was the beachfront walkway but it was nice.

I went down with Dunkle yesterday with the intent to meet up with some of his friends from El Salvador to take a nice leisurely bike ride along the river. Now I would have been interested in doing something like this except that it was the hottest point in the day on a day that was already around 94 degrees. Too hot. So instead of trying something that could have easily killed us, we decided to just keep it real in the air conditioned apartment of Flora and Mercedes. This was pretty fun because I got to shyly practice a little bit of some old school Spanish while having a good time with some pretty girls.

After a game of pool in their lobby (which also has ping pong, a movie theatre, a bowling alley, and a library) we decided to go out into the hot ass world in search of some sort of food and drink. This is always the key motivator here in Taipei because it just gets soo hot here that it sometimes hurts to go outside. So it was the two American dudes and the now four Latin girls on a quest to just go hang out somewhere. I can tell you nothing noble but it was all we really needed to do at this time.

After walking around trying to fluff my shirt every five seconds I was getting a little restless. As my shirt developed more and more sweat rings that made me look like a lactating pig rotating over a roasting fire, I desperately needed to go somewhere that would release me from this embarrassing condition I found myself to be in. We found solace in an ideal little shore side restaurant called....... well I can't remember but it was really nice and we were able to get a little food and some ice cold beer. We had a very nice time just hanging out and talking and telling stories about this and that.

After some chit chat and some well deserved shade, we sat in big comfy couches and watched a bright red sun descend into the water. It was a very beautiful sunset on this particular Saturday evening.

Now that we had started the party, the only other thing we could possibly do was to go to a real party. Let me tell you this was a great capstone (or so I thought) to our evening because we had a rooftop party with nachos and good friends. Actually, I had just met all these people but maybe they will be my good friends someday. The best part was being able to see the whole city and bay from the top of the building. By now the sun was gone and a nice wind blew across the balcony and it reassured all of us that maybe life wasn't so bad.

We spent quite a few hours laughing and talking and eating before we realized that it was still only about 9 pm. The girl from Hong Kong had gone as well as the El Salvadorian and Mexican Girls. I was finishing up my conversation with a Turkish couple and a Swedish guy so Dunkle, our Thai friend Steven and I went off to new and interesting adventures.

I will let you know, there was no real reason for any of us three to be going to some other "social" environment except that of our own beds. But certain times, all times, call for just doing whatever you feel like. So after running home and changing into our "sweet douche bag" clothes we were ready for an evening at the uber sheik Club 19. When we arrived to this place, that I could never find again on my own, we were overpowered by a barrage of young go getters excited to spend their next hour waiting in a line in the hopes that their ticket would come and they could go buy overpriced drinks while yelling into peoples ears for an attempt at conversation. I can't say that this place was in anyway my style but considering the fact that I only have one backpacks worth of clothing now, I don't know if I even have a style to stick to.

Nevertheless, I was certainly not about to stand in some line waiting to go to some place. That was when I saw a young gentleman climb out of his Ferrari and go right in. Why couldn't I do that. After some smooth fanagaling, by our friend Steven, we were in da club. No line, no hassles, no pissed off Andrew complaining in a line for an hour. Perfect!

The club was just like any other one where you go in and try to talk to some girl and are finally used to the loud music only to have the volume turned up the second you were going to say something you really thought would win her over. I tried this many times to limited success. The best part of the night was when the three of us said screw this, let's just have a good time. If you can imagine three buzzed up dudes in a club about 8 times too shee shee for them dancing like maniacs to some crappy techno music, you would be accurately picturing us in some Taiwanese club at 330 in the morning. Sometimes I amaze myself. All in all it was the best way to get off all that steam from our earlier stressful day of relaxation and slight flirtations to any girl that would have it.

After arriving home at an hour most certainly too late, Dunkle desperately desired a bit of sleep before he woke up at 7 to take a flight out to the Philippines for a little "visa run." We of course made sure that he was sound asleep before running in his room screaming followed by a nice doggy pile. If only Drew had been there we could have added to our long list of pissed off sleepy people who's only defense is "grow up, you're not a kid anymore." Well I beg to differ. The last part of the night was spent with Steven and I eating Mack's Lounge breakfast (which I totally did not know existed here). He left, and I, eyes closed, stumbled into a most uncomfortable pink bed. A day well spent in Taipei.

Long time no blog!

Well life is starting to sort of work out here in Taipei so I am feeling pretty good. Now I have an apartment, my job pretty much has a regular feel to it, and I have even begun to make some friends if you can believe it. You would think I would try to make the excuse that I am so busy but I still have way too much free time and struggle with getting up before 10 each morning. Most of the time I am not able to get up that early.

So let's think about some stuff that I really miss about my wonderful home in the United States of America. Well lately I have really been craving some good spicy Mexican food and they just don't seem to know at all what it is. I talked to one guy who said he went to a "Mexican" place here and they gave him noodles with crappy salsa atop. Not really what I am looking for. I want that big giant burrito that looks bigger than my thigh, or so many tacos that they look blurry when I try to see the end of them, and lets not forget the authentic marg. I mean that stuff is just classic and so great. Oh and I forgot how much I have been wanting some nachos. I would even settle for some gas station style stuff but no goes. In the 7-11s here they have hard boiled eggs soaked in tea and I can tell you I would rather get kicked in the balls 8 times than have to eat one of those turds.

I also really miss just the general variety that we have in our country. I mean you want some of this you go that way and if you want some of that you just go the other way. Taipei has a lot to offer but there really isn't much outside of maybe Chinese or Japanese culture. What does it take to get some real hamburgers or some quesadillas? Maybe I am just hungry. And you know there is one thing that is great about eating here.... it is so cheap. Well actually it isn't soooo cheap but it is cheaper. I still like the food here but I just want some MFin' Mexican!!!

I had a little celebration last night because it was my first day as an illegal immigrant in Taiwan. You see, before I came here I was supposed to get a 90 day tourist visa and then illegally get my real stuff once here. My problem was that I was in Thailand and while I could have gone to an embassy there, I was too busy hanging out on the beach and keeping it real. So when I arrived I was only issued a 30 day visa which I guess just doesn't cut it. But someone is in the process of doing some sort of magic so I am confident that it will all work out. And if it doesn't maybe you can keep the light on for me because my ass will be getting deported. Oh well life is boring when it is legal. I was actually illegal in France for almost two months and that worked out ok.

Overall though I am really enjoying myself here. My job is probably my favorite part to be honest. I really like my classes and they are proving to be a real challenge. Of course a positive one. I am already being emailed by parents who like to give me tips about their kids and one mom called the school and said that because of me she would make sure that all her friend's kids got into our school. Now just let me try this charm in the real world. The strangest part is trying to keep calm because some of these kids are so crazy that I want to slap them across the face. I would never do that but I think if I did it to some they wouldn't even know what had hit them and they would just continue singing while having a seizure and crapping out butterflies. (That crazy.)

Sorry this blog sort of sucked but I am back to writing with a hot ass computer on my lap and all I can think about is the song "chestnuts roasting on an open laptop." I am dying. If you have never had that feeling don't try it cause I am sure I will end up having some three eyed children because of it. Fare well and I will contact you soon.

Oh I forgot to mention that I went to this huge pool party this weekend and it totally rocked because there were movie stars (Chinese movie stars) and all sorts of hot model chicks there. And this weekend I might take the metro to the beach. Life ain't so bad.

Beef Fried Noodles

This really isn’t a guide to eating here in Taiwan but rather how I have come to survive each day. Like many of you I have just arrived into Taiwan so my knowledge of the language and culture here is at a bare minimum. This makes things like eating a little more difficult but much more interesting.

The key to my limited success has been to be sure to wait about 10-12 hours between my meals. This allows me to be so hungry that I can hardly even think straight. When I am in this condition it makes for some very interesting restaurant choices. Before I embark on a live or die mission to eat I have to decide, “Do I want to try a night market? Should I just walk into the restaurant with the most people inside? Should I let my fear overtake me and just eat a snickers bar from 7-11? Or should I really wuss out and just point to a cheeseburger picture at McDonalds?” I am happy to say that I have only lowered myself to the last option once since I have been here.

Once I am out in the street I really start to feel strange. Not only is my stomach a barren wasteland but I also feel like a cake roasting in an oven. I need food FAST so that I can retreat into my lair of AC. Around the corner is my token noodle shack followed closely by someone yelling for me to try their new deep fried liver sausage (at least that is what I think that is). Hmm… not today. I venture forth.

The places that really intimidate me are the ones that only have a menu in Chinese characters and some old guy cooking on a grill. These places always seem attractive because the prices are often quite low, but require a lot of pointing and unintelligible hand gestures until some sort of agreement is reached. In this way I have had varying degrees of success (hey I am still alive!), but a lot of times I am so hungry that I confusedly wander from restaurant to restaurant hoping that someone will simply say, “I know exactly what you want. Come on in and we’ll get you feeling better.” This might actually be happening to me all the time and I just don’t know it because I can’t understand anyone.

After I have walked for about 45 minutes to an hour around these new streets I realize that a new problem has arrived, I am completely lost. But before I can have a freak out session about finding where I could possibly be, I really need to get full. This is why knowing the phrase for beef fried noodles is so very important. This wonderful dish is good, cheap, and can be found on almost every street. This dish is a safe bet to getting me feeling like a human again and thus being able to take on the new challenge of getting back to wherever it is I came from.

Getting to eat new and exciting things in Taiwan is one of the best parts about it. But sometimes you just need something that will work and will get your brain and stomach back into proper order. Maybe one day I will tire of the beef fried noodles but it is not this day. While living in Taiwan the thing I have found to work best is to not be picky and to always have a fallback plan.

Stay in Milk and Drink yo School

I am now officially comfortable in my new home. I wasn't sure if that was ever going to happen but I really think it has. There are still a lot of things that must be done before life can really start kicking ass here but over all I am pretty pleased with how everything is going. So far all I can in Chinese say is "thank you, bye bye, I want dumplings, and excuse me." It isn't exactly a large vocabulary and I haven't even eaten a dumpling yet so I am still struggling. So here is what is going on.

Yes, we did finally get an apartment and it is pretty great. I am so happy to be out of that craptastic hostel that I was starting to call home. I almost thought about getting myself arrested because living in a prison seemed more attractive than where I was. For those of you who look stuff up a lot, our new place is located right near the Minquan W. Rd MRT (Metro). It is pretty centrally located and I have already found some pretty cool places around us that I will probably pop into on a daily basis. The best part is that there is a little local market around the corner that actually sells 1000 ml beer cans. It is so hilariously large when you have one in your hand and the only way it could be more funny would be seeing it in the hands of some small Asian guy.

We moved into a three room apartment (Myself, Dunkle, and the new guy Dan from MOtown.) So far there is some real positive roommate energy flowing around so we all hope that it continues like that. I think the place will be nice once we all have some money to spruce things up and get some trinkets to fill it up and give it life.

The first night at the place was a bit hard for me because I didn't really get the idea of "furnished." I just figured that "furnished" meant everything is there like furniture, plates, clothes, and food. Not quite. The first night I had to sleep on an old dirty mattress with a pullover for a pillow. That was bad but still not as bad as the hostel. Of course now I have some sheets but I still screwed that up. You see, it is really really hard to do things here when you don't know Chinese. I wondered around a Wallmartesque store the other day for about an hour not knowing what to do. I mean seriously, if I ever meet someone who packages bedsheets I am going to kick the shit out of them. Why would I want to separately buy just the stretchy part and a pillow case? Why do they sell just that? Do they think that that is the most important part of the bed sheet stuff? Why can't you just buy a big thing with a pillow, stretchy thing, little sheet, big sheet, and pillows? Why do you have to buy it all separate? I found out that you can't even really find all the same stuff so you have to mix and match. It is even worse when you are cheap like me. After my hour in the store I had bought a pink stretchy thing and pillow case kit, a blue blanket, and a giant neon green pillow with cows all over it. It looks like a blind six year old decorated my damn room. I didn't mean to get pink sheets but when a sheet is small and folded the color comes off as a nice red and when it is bed sized it is pink with yellow flowers all over it. I can't wait for the day that I bring a girl back (just to read a book together of course) and she sees my classy decorating style. Oh well I ain't no metro homo.

Sorry I was actually going to try a real blazin' bloggin' today and then I wrote that garbage up above. How about I talk about my school.

I actually really like my school. My boss is totally hot too. (oops I'm getting off track again) Seriously though she is super hot but also very nice and intelligent. Her English is almost perfect but it is funny when she types things out with little mistakes. Yesterday I was supposed to teach my kids the words "purple yarnt and bron tape." But hey it isn't like I speak any Chinese. The school is in a really nice part of town and is surrounded by tall and fancy high rise apartment buildings. Our school teaches the cream of the crop as far as the families are concerned. Everyday I see Mercedes, BMWs, and other nice cars dropping their little kids off. The inside is all new and high tech as well. It looks like how you would design a kindergarten if you had as much money as you wanted to do it. The whole place is made for tiny little kids. Tiny toilets, tiny chairs, tiny everything. Speaking of the toilets, one weird part about those is that they are surrounded by windows. I guess it is so we can make sure that they don't mess around but everytime you walk upstairs you are bombarded by little children waving from their toilet seats while pooping out a little turtle head. It is really strange but I guess no one else minds. I asked about it and they said "don't worry, you'll get used to it." So I am supposed to get used to watching little kids pee? Whatever.

Speaking of the kids they are all soooooooo smart. This isn't like it was in France. While I would say the French kids were better disciplined, they were in no way as sharp with English as these kids are. Most of the kids I teach (7-10) can pretty much understand English enough to communicate and read. It is really amazing how good they are. Sometimes I forget that they even speak a completely different language until I hear one of them say something in Chinese. Having them speak English makes teaching them English so much easier. Whoda thunkit?

Right now I am teaching only two classes which is also an improvement from last year's eight classes. I have a class with about 12 kids and one with 5. Last year my smallest was 22 and my largest was 28........damn! While the 5 kids class is great the 12 is outrageous. I have never seen these types of human beings ever. About 5 kids in that class are certifiably bat shit crazy. One kid will actually break out in the middle of class and just start screaming and shaking his body all over. One is so ADD that he seems to be able to not pay attention to not paying attention. And one girl cares so little about class that she wouldn't be fazed by the discipline of an army general. I have to teach this class for two hours a day and we don't do simple stuff. We start off with the weeks grammar and vocab. We play games, do flashcards and pretty simple class stuff. After that 30 minutes we move on to the workbook where the kids do writing activities and practice their reading comprehension. Then we have a pee break and I have to go monitor a bunch of little boys who pull their pants all the way down to pee. Then we go back and do phonetics, creative writing, reading, and story writing depending on the day. For the last half hour we do art, science, literature, or math. This happens all in English and is prepared and executed all by myself. Crazy I know. Totally different from my days in France where my lesson plans were often "created" in my head as I walked to school each day. So the structure is nice but trying to keep a bunch of cracked out nutcases in their seats for 2 hours is no easy feat. I think I am doing pretty well though and having a Chinese teacher in the class really helps a lot.

There is also another funny aspect of life as a teacher here in Taipei. It was very important for me to know before I got here that what I am actually doing here is completely illegal and punishable by deportation from the country. In most cases you are even banned from ever entering Taiwan again. This is totally serious too. Westerners or foreigners are in no way allowed to teach kindergarten in school here. The way they get around it is by registering us as elementary teachers and literally hiding us in the nooks and crannies of the tax system. My school is so paranoid about it that I am only permitted to enter the school from the back door. Twice already I have had to run and hide with the rest of the white folk because the government alarm went off in the building. If their security people detect a government vehicle or a gov type person we have to run and hide. For real. So every day I am dangerously risking my livelihood just to educate these beautiful children. (Can't wait to use that on the American girls when I get home.) I just hope I don't get caught because having to tell people that I was deported for illegally teaching kids every day could really get misinterpreted. But I doubt that will ever happen.

So that is life as of now and I enjoy it a lot. Tonight Dunkle is going to introduce me to a woman he has casually dated here and there. She is going to bring some of her friends out so I get to meet them too. The hilarious catch is that he only recently found out that this woman is about 32 to 35 years old. Hahahahahahahahaha. But that is how the Asians are, you seriously cannot tell their age. So I hope you are all well and enjoy the stories. Now that I am settled and found the shop that sells 1000 ml oilcans and am going to meet a bunch of middle aged Taiwanese chicks I think life here is going to get very interesting here. Bye