All is good in my world. They checked me into a very remedial Level 2 class, and I fit right in. Predominantly westerners – France, Norway, Germany, and me representing America. Everyone seems to have interest and a bit of aptitude. Just not the hunger that the students had in the other class. Hard to describe what I mean. It’s kind of like we’re learning Chinese as an elective and they are taking the Advance Placement version. We’re going to use it, they’re going to live it. I hate to say it, but it feels right for me – where I belong. And a comfortable first exposure to a language class. The problem is, now I have to buckle down and work. 5 hours of class a day and homework does seem a little daunting.
A quick observation about billboard advertisements over here. There seems to be a lot them, more so than I’ve noticed back home. Just like home, there are the ads with strikingly beautiful women in suggestive poses and various stages of undress modeling a variety of products, e.g. tight jeans, lingerie, cosmetics. But the strangest thing to me is that all the models are westerners. I'm in a large Asian metropolis and haven’t seen a single picture of an Asian woman (or man for that matter) baring any flesh or appearing sensual in any way (and trust me, I’m looking for them). However, the models in all the ads for women’s health products are exclusively Asian, and a number of the ads are much more visually explicit than I’ve ever seen in the states – on billboards or tv. I get off the subway train today and come face to face with a picture of a gal in professional business attire, sitting on a toilet, high heeled clad toes arching up from the floor, sheer black stockings meet white skin rising above the knees, hips modesty hidden, leaning forward with her head in her hands. I couldn’t make out the Chinese, but I’m thinking it had something to do with constipation. I hope you don’t mind me leaving you with that image – but it is a virtual snapshot of from this city and I have to hit the books.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
God Bless FDR
90+ degress and equal humidity and no one here sweats. Yet, I’m constantly standing in a self-generating salt water puddle. Everyone around me is wearing denim jeans, suit coats and ties without a tell-tale bead of sweat anywhere. I’m stripped down to t-shits and shorts and I’m still wilting. (Can you imagine being pressed up against me on a crowded subway car?) And then I walk into a building and the blast of air conditioning sends my body temperature plunging to the point of shivering. (Definitely giving my immune system a run for it’s money.) So here’s what I do – yesterday’s shirt is my outdoor shirt and today’s shirt is my indoor shirt. Whenever I’m outside, I have on yesterday’s shirt. Once I’m inside, I head to the bathroom for a quick change-a-roo. (Ala Clark Kent) I remove the indoor shirt from my backpack and emerge wearing the dry shirt. I reverse this procedure on my way out – always keeping today’s shirt dry. At the end of the day, the indoor shirt becomes tomorrow’s outdoor shirt and a spanking clean shirt becomes my indoor shirt. I just don't want to think about the stink I’m carrying in that backpack.
They don’t know what to do with me at the school. (No surprises there) I have a second level vocabulary with first level conversation skills. (Lots to say but nothing to say it with) My unique combination of linguistic capabilities drags the second level class down to a snail’s pace, yet makes the first level class too rudimentary. The administrators are stumped. They told me to come back tomorrow.
After the past several days, I have to ask myself, “what is this trip about for me?” I think that I’ve gotten myself trapped somewhere between “what I want” and “I’ll get it on my own terms”. So far in my life, I’ve been pretty successful at getting what I want on my own terms. (If I didn’t get it, I rationalized that I didn’t really want it.) “My own terms” hasn’t worked so well this time around with learning conversational Chinese. Over the past year, I have attempted to develop an interactive, interpersonal skill by way of a self study project. Rather than being a vulnerable beginner in group classes or speaking lessons, I’ve chosen to safely sequester myself in my basement with Rosetta Stone. And now I’m paying for that choice. (And so is the school over here in Taiwan). Perhaps, the pinch of this trip is the realization that my own terms didn't get me what I want.
But I go to bed rekindled with hope. I’ve found a whole section of Taipei that seems to be peppered with American food type restaurants – omelettes, waffles, salad, pizza, burgers, pasta. I even ate at one – garlic bread, a coke and a greek salad. For the first time since I got here, there was a lilt in my step as I walked out of the restaurant (even though I know it’s kind of cheating.). And as I turned the corner to get to the subway stop that serves that section, I noticed the name of the road – Roosevelt Road, the only non-Chinese name on a Taipei map. Who would have foreseen the ripple effect of FDR on my life.
They don’t know what to do with me at the school. (No surprises there) I have a second level vocabulary with first level conversation skills. (Lots to say but nothing to say it with) My unique combination of linguistic capabilities drags the second level class down to a snail’s pace, yet makes the first level class too rudimentary. The administrators are stumped. They told me to come back tomorrow.
After the past several days, I have to ask myself, “what is this trip about for me?” I think that I’ve gotten myself trapped somewhere between “what I want” and “I’ll get it on my own terms”. So far in my life, I’ve been pretty successful at getting what I want on my own terms. (If I didn’t get it, I rationalized that I didn’t really want it.) “My own terms” hasn’t worked so well this time around with learning conversational Chinese. Over the past year, I have attempted to develop an interactive, interpersonal skill by way of a self study project. Rather than being a vulnerable beginner in group classes or speaking lessons, I’ve chosen to safely sequester myself in my basement with Rosetta Stone. And now I’m paying for that choice. (And so is the school over here in Taiwan). Perhaps, the pinch of this trip is the realization that my own terms didn't get me what I want.
But I go to bed rekindled with hope. I’ve found a whole section of Taipei that seems to be peppered with American food type restaurants – omelettes, waffles, salad, pizza, burgers, pasta. I even ate at one – garlic bread, a coke and a greek salad. For the first time since I got here, there was a lilt in my step as I walked out of the restaurant (even though I know it’s kind of cheating.). And as I turned the corner to get to the subway stop that serves that section, I noticed the name of the road – Roosevelt Road, the only non-Chinese name on a Taipei map. Who would have foreseen the ripple effect of FDR on my life.
Monday, September 28, 2009
The hits just keep on coming
I’m exhausted and it’s only 9 o’clock. Immersion will do that. Today I found out what immersion really means. “To put oneself in a situation where it’s coming at you from all directions at a million miles an hour and absolutely none of your existing skills or resources are of any value at all and you better hope that you can learn some new ones god damn fast!” I didn’t!!!! For the first time ever in my life I am the stupidest person in the class. (And that’s a tad bit difficult for me to take.) If that isn’t bad enough, consider the fact that I’m the sole representative of the good ol’ US of A in the class, not to mention the whole western hemisphere. Yup – not a single other white skinned, round eyed or english speaking person in the bunch. So now I shame not only my self and my family but half of the civilized world. Worse yet – everyone in the class is openly chuckling at my naivety to even think that I was ready for this and has bet big money against me coming back tomorrow. (Imagine how many buttons that is pushing for me). Funny how not one of my so called friends back in the states tried to persuade me that maybe this whole trip wasn’t such a good idea.
I wonder if I’m immersed deep enough yet.
I wonder if I’m immersed deep enough yet.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
A tale of two cities
I discovered that Taipei is two cities – separated by a thin veneer of earth. Above ground is chaos. Below ground is order.
The above ground city is a mish-mash of buildings – greys and browns and rust, appearing to be cobbled together from whatever materials were handy or in vogue at the time, new atop of old. They arrange themselves in no particular order with just enough room in between for thoroughfares of various sizes with names like ‘build the country, ‘filial and loyal’, and ‘honest and sincere’. It takes a big street to carry those expectations, at least 4 lanes in each direction, and these are criss-crossed by myriad lanes and numbered alleys some so narrow in places that a car and a person can’t pass without one doing damage to the other. The scooter is master of all – moving from street to sidewalk at will, hanging u-ees and buttonhook turns. And individuality reigns supreme. Masses of humanity and vehicles non-stop moving in no particular order and changing direction on a whim, a sale sign or a gust of rain.
Down below is cool, quiet white. The hum of technology. Streams of people descending from above, paying to be huddled together, molded and shaped into subway packets and moved from here to there. Large volume, small volume, same process. Queuing lines painted on cement platforms to funnel people into cars. Peer pressure and policemen with orange wands keeping the order in a constant stream of destinations being reached.
Today I took refuge in the underground city. Away from the heat, the humidity, the pouring rain and the craziness up above. And at the end of the day, I find myself settled. The dinginess of the hotel has become quaint and a string of vegetarian restaurants have been scouted (and one sampled). My clothes are laid out and my book-bag is packed for tomorrow’s first day of school.
The above ground city is a mish-mash of buildings – greys and browns and rust, appearing to be cobbled together from whatever materials were handy or in vogue at the time, new atop of old. They arrange themselves in no particular order with just enough room in between for thoroughfares of various sizes with names like ‘build the country, ‘filial and loyal’, and ‘honest and sincere’. It takes a big street to carry those expectations, at least 4 lanes in each direction, and these are criss-crossed by myriad lanes and numbered alleys some so narrow in places that a car and a person can’t pass without one doing damage to the other. The scooter is master of all – moving from street to sidewalk at will, hanging u-ees and buttonhook turns. And individuality reigns supreme. Masses of humanity and vehicles non-stop moving in no particular order and changing direction on a whim, a sale sign or a gust of rain.
Down below is cool, quiet white. The hum of technology. Streams of people descending from above, paying to be huddled together, molded and shaped into subway packets and moved from here to there. Large volume, small volume, same process. Queuing lines painted on cement platforms to funnel people into cars. Peer pressure and policemen with orange wands keeping the order in a constant stream of destinations being reached.
Today I took refuge in the underground city. Away from the heat, the humidity, the pouring rain and the craziness up above. And at the end of the day, I find myself settled. The dinginess of the hotel has become quaint and a string of vegetarian restaurants have been scouted (and one sampled). My clothes are laid out and my book-bag is packed for tomorrow’s first day of school.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
I'm not in Kansas anymore . . .
Today was discouraging. I was hoping to be settled and I’m not. The hotel feels sub-par and my discovery of vegetarian food is hindered by my language skills and unfamiliarity of the city. So I’m just making do! (I guess it counterbalances my business class treatment of the past 24 hours.) And man is it hot. 33 degrees Celsius. That’s 135 degree Fahrenheit. (okay so I exaggerate). I think Celsius was invented by people in warm climates so they can fool themselves into thinking it’s not really that hot.
I went to scope out an alternative hotel and, without realizing it, took off in the completely wrong direction. Sun beating down, and no water in hand, I began to worry when I couldn’t find any of the streets on either of my two maps (I HATE looking like a tourist). No one could understand my Chinese and I couldn’t understand their English. So I pulled out my trusty map, showed it to a policeman and asked where I was. He couldn’t tell me! It slowly dawned on me that the map was made for an English speaking tourist – all the street names were written in the phonetic pronunciation and not the Chinese characters. He couldn’t read the phonetic spelling and I so completely bastardized the sounds that he didn’t understand what I was reading off the map. (It would be like us trying to read a Seattle map written in Chinese characters.) So I wandered around some more until I happened upon a “you are here” map affixed to a touristy building, got my bearing and hopped a cab. When I finally got to the hotel that I was considering, the manager saw the desperation in my eyes and quoted an exorbitant price. She wouldn’t budge so I’m staying the night in my original hotel. Tomorrow I’m checking out yet another hotel and trying the subway. That will have to be it, as class starts on Monday.
The highlight of the day – seeing Sharon. Skype – what an application!! (and it’s free). The windowless hotel room didn’t seem so dingy as I sat in front of my computer with Sharon filling the screen in real time – voice and image (gotta love those Macs and their cameras)
I went to scope out an alternative hotel and, without realizing it, took off in the completely wrong direction. Sun beating down, and no water in hand, I began to worry when I couldn’t find any of the streets on either of my two maps (I HATE looking like a tourist). No one could understand my Chinese and I couldn’t understand their English. So I pulled out my trusty map, showed it to a policeman and asked where I was. He couldn’t tell me! It slowly dawned on me that the map was made for an English speaking tourist – all the street names were written in the phonetic pronunciation and not the Chinese characters. He couldn’t read the phonetic spelling and I so completely bastardized the sounds that he didn’t understand what I was reading off the map. (It would be like us trying to read a Seattle map written in Chinese characters.) So I wandered around some more until I happened upon a “you are here” map affixed to a touristy building, got my bearing and hopped a cab. When I finally got to the hotel that I was considering, the manager saw the desperation in my eyes and quoted an exorbitant price. She wouldn’t budge so I’m staying the night in my original hotel. Tomorrow I’m checking out yet another hotel and trying the subway. That will have to be it, as class starts on Monday.
The highlight of the day – seeing Sharon. Skype – what an application!! (and it’s free). The windowless hotel room didn’t seem so dingy as I sat in front of my computer with Sharon filling the screen in real time – voice and image (gotta love those Macs and their cameras)
Friday, September 25, 2009
Once I've seen Paris . . .
Not to whine, but I wish my airplane seat was 3-4 inches wider. Even though it fully reclined into a 78 inch bed, with adjustable lumbar support and a swing around television screen and came with a pillow, comforter, eye pillow and sleeping socks, it was a little uncomfortable when I would sleep on my right side with my legs curled up.
In truth, part of me felt guilty as I breezed by the very long line of weary people waiting to board the flight at 1:00 AM. I waited 30 seconds at the separate business class entrance and was tucked into bed falling asleep 5 minutes later (a little annoyed, by the way, when I was awoken by the flight attendant to sit up during take off). My last trip to China, I was in that long line and have an appreciation for how grueling this journey can be. In a ways, there’s an uncomfortable feeling of segregation about the whole thing – not skin color, or ethnicity but wealth. Good for those who have it, not so good for those that don’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to savor every last minute of this and milk it for all it’s worth, but my social consciousness is aware (damn it).
And one day I'll be back in that line.
For now, I'm in the Hong Kong airport waiting for my flight to Taiwan
In truth, part of me felt guilty as I breezed by the very long line of weary people waiting to board the flight at 1:00 AM. I waited 30 seconds at the separate business class entrance and was tucked into bed falling asleep 5 minutes later (a little annoyed, by the way, when I was awoken by the flight attendant to sit up during take off). My last trip to China, I was in that long line and have an appreciation for how grueling this journey can be. In a ways, there’s an uncomfortable feeling of segregation about the whole thing – not skin color, or ethnicity but wealth. Good for those who have it, not so good for those that don’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to savor every last minute of this and milk it for all it’s worth, but my social consciousness is aware (damn it).
And one day I'll be back in that line.
For now, I'm in the Hong Kong airport waiting for my flight to Taiwan
Thursday, September 24, 2009
A great start
Rule #1: If you must travel, do so first class. I'm sitting in the Alaska Board Room at Seatac with my first of three possible complementary drinks. The technology here is a geek's dreamland infused with the scent of freshly brewed tomatoe bisque soup. And just outside those wooden doors are the throngs sitting in uncomfortable chairs devising strategies to claim overhead compartment space for their luggage. I'm so glad I used my mileage so wisely!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
A taste of what's to come
I just called Taiwan. Yup - on the other side of the world. I wanted to test out the process of calling my hotel in case Sharon needed to get ahold of me while I'm there. I thought it would be like calling a Chinese Restaurant. But it's not. It sounds completely different. The problem is that I don't know how to say "Sorry, wrong number" in Chinese, so I just hung up. I wonder if they get a lot of those kinds of calls.
If you want to try it out, here's what you do
1. Dial 1-800-543-9764
2. Select 1 for english
3. When it asks for PIN enter 81339137872
4. Then enter 011 - 886 - 2 - 27735177
5. Just listen
Right now there's 28 minutes left on the calling card. So if you only listen for a minute, 28 of you can do it. We'll drive that front desk staff crazy!
After you do that, just imagine Sharon trying to get ahold of me
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The first logistic
This is as far as I've gotten with the blog - setting it up.
My trip starts at 7:50 on Thursday night with a flight to San Fran, then Hong Kong and finally Taipei. After about 24 hours of travel, I will arrive in Tapei at 10:50 (ish) on Saturday morning. (Taipei is 15 hours ahead of Seattle.) So I'll be eating lunch on Sat when you're eating dinner on Friday.
My trip starts at 7:50 on Thursday night with a flight to San Fran, then Hong Kong and finally Taipei. After about 24 hours of travel, I will arrive in Tapei at 10:50 (ish) on Saturday morning. (Taipei is 15 hours ahead of Seattle.) So I'll be eating lunch on Sat when you're eating dinner on Friday.
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