Potty Training

On a recent 3-hour train ride, the 8 gallons of tea I drank that day came back to haunt me.  As a general rule, I try not to use the bathroom on modes of public transportation.  But I just couldn’t wait.

I stood in line for my turn in the bathroom, took one look inside the door, and then turned around and went directly back to my seat.  The bathroom was a squatter, a squatty potty, a nasty hole in the floor where people pee and poop.  Gross.

What’s the big deal? you may naively ask.  Well, let me tell you a little bit about the ol’ squat toilet.

It’s gross.  Basically, it’s a hole in the floor, where you would normally put a toilet.  The idea is that you stand over the hole, squat way down, and try your best to pee, not pee on your clothes, and not fall over into other people’s pee, all at the same time.  Why not just put a toilet in?  Seems like the same amount of work for the contractors.

Anyways, up to this point, I had done a solid job of avoiding the squatter at all costs.  Many a day, I had held my bodily functions for an extra hour or so until I could find a “real” toilet.  I just didn’t have the skills required to use the squatty potty.

I mean, I know how to squat.  I know how to pee.  And I know how to not pee on my clothes.  But combining all three?  Baffling!  

So there I was, on the train, 8 gallons of tea sloshing around in my bladder, threatening to force its way out with every jolt and rumble of the movement of the train.  I was not going to make it another hour.  I turned to my friends for help.  What was I doing wrong?  Why was I the only person who seemed incapable of using the bathroom in Taiwan?  Obviously I was missing some key element of the process.  Millions of people pee this way everyday.

After getting some tips from my friends (who of course thought it was ridiculous that I had lived in Taiwan for 2 months and still didn’t know how to use the bathroom like a big girl), I mustered up my courage and headed back into the depths of the train toilet.  I rolled up my jeans (so they didn’t drop into the puddles of strangers’ urine) and did my business.  I even managed to avoid getting splash-back from my own pee on my feet!

Ugh.

Feeling relieved in more ways than one, I gingerly headed back to my seat.  I peed in the potty!  Mommy and Daddy would be so proud!

Taroko Gorge: The trip that almost was.

Today’s lesson: Plan ahead.

In honor of Taiwan’s 100th birthday, we had a three-day weekend.  Perfect chance to get out of Taipei and see the other wonders of Taiwan.  Ever since my Lonely Planet guide arrived in the mail back in July, I knew that Taroko Gorge was at the top of my list for must-sees in Taiwan.  So, I put the idea out to my friends, and then completely stopped doing any sort of planning.  I let everyone else take over.

Well, maybe my poor-planning Karma came back to haunt me.  The weekend was a BLAST, but I’m going to have to leave Taroko Gorge on my Taiwan Bucket List.  Never officially made it there.....

After wandering around the Taipei Main Station for a while, our motley crew managed to buy train tickets and make it to the correct platform.  

At Taipei Main Station, platform 4a

We boarded the train, and three hours later, we arrived in Hualien, the nearest town to Taroko National Park.  It was pitch black, pouring down rain, and we didn’t have a hotel reservation.  (Remember -- no plan here.)  Oh, and I forgot my umbrella.

Megan and Carys in the pouring rain

We were lucky enough to have a random 7/Eleven dude point us to a hotel across the street, where we decided to save $3US each and pile 6 grown adults into one room with two double beds.  More money for beer, I guess. 

And beer money we did spend!  We dropped our stuff and ran down the block to the KTV, dodging stray dogs along the way.  If you know me at all, you know how much I enjoy having all the attention on me, so naturally, karaoke is one of my favorite activities.  This being Taiwan, there were only a handful of English songs to choose from, but somehow we made the fun last for the entire 3 hours we signed up for.  Here’s just one sample of our amazing skills: 

My Asian karaoke debut complete, we decided the fun surely could not stop yet, so we headed to the bar.  It was a mere 5-minute death-defying cab ride away.  Perhaps we should have called it a night, but instead we stayed out “raging” until daybreak.  Ugh.  I told myself last time that I would NEVER EVER stay out at the bar until 6am again.  Well, this time I mean it.  I’m too old for that crap.

Since we partied ourselves into oblivion, no one really cared that our sleeping arrangements included one person on a padded bench, two people sharing each rock-hard double bed, and one person huddled at the foot of one bed.  We slept till noon.

After showering and convincing ourselves we were not going to die of hangover-itis, we embarked on our journey to Taroko..... the whole reason for this trip.  Unfortunately, it was already 2pm, it took us a while to figure out how to buy a bus ticket to the park (thank God Carys speaks Chinese), and then we had to wait an hour for the next bus to come.  And the bus ride itself was an hour long.  We didn’t arrive at the park until 4:30pm or so.  Oops.

It was still raining, and we had heard that the actual gorge was closed to visitors due to the danger of rock slides because of all the recent rain.  And it was going to be dark soon.  We still wanted to do some sort of Taroko activity, so we marched through the little town and up to the entrance to the park.  We found the Welcome Center closed, so we chose a trail from the map and started hiking.

Heading into Taroko National Park

Soon we discovered we were in over our heads.  Again, planning was not our strong point this weekend.  Some of the members of our group were wearing flipflops, so real hiking was out of the question.  It was raining, which made us a bit miserable.  And then we discovered the spiders.

You may remember my encounter with the spiders on Maokong Mountain.  These were their jungle brothers.  Huge, truly huge spiders hanging in massive webs just above the average height of the frequent hikers. 

Ah! Spiders!

Well, I’m taller than the average hiker, so as darkness fell upon us out in the wilderness, I became concerned for my wellbeing.  I did not want to walk unknowingly into a low-hanging spider web.  So as we made our way back down the trail to get out of the way of the impending doom of the woods, I walked doubled over at the waist, crouching down so as not be the tallest one in the group.  Call me cowardly, but someone else can get spiders in their hair.  No thanks.  I like being alive.

Safely at the bottom of Spider Mountain, we meandered back into town to wait for the bus back to Hualien.  That was the end of our time in Taroko National Park.  A whopping 1.5 hours.  Most of which I spent in not-so-quiet terror that arachnids were about to eat my face.

While we waited for the bus, we stepped into a little cafe, where the owner was serving millet wine coffee.  Basically, I think he took millet wine and reduced it down to a syrup and then poured it in coffee.  I ordered it cold, and it was .... not undrinkable.  The others ordered it hot and ended up with curdled alcoholic coffee.  Yum.  

Iced, mildly-disgusting millet wine syrup coffee 

Hot, super-nasty millet wine syrup coffee

When we arrived back in Hualien, we were famished.  We went into a restaurant where we had the most bizarre ordering experience.  Here’s a short reenactment.  Please bear in mind that the waitress spoke mostly Chinese, which only adds to the humor of the situation:

Us: Can we see the menu?

Waitress:  Sure, here is ONE menu.  I know there are six people at the table, but you can share one menu.  I will stand here at the end of the table and wait for you to order.  Please order now.  Go.

Conor: Can we have a pot of tea for the table?

Waitress: Sure, but I’ll only bring you one cup.

Conor: Can I have a lemonade with my meal?

Waitress: No, you idiot. You already ordered tea.

Janet:  I’d like an order of spicy tofu with my meal.

Waitress: Ok, crazy lady.

Me:  Can I have the Kung Pao Chicken, please?

Waitress: That’s way too spicy for you.

Me: No really, it’s ok.

Waitress: Whatever....

Megan:  I’d also like an order of spicy tofu.  Oh, and some noodles, please.

Waitress:  MORE spicy tofu????  There’s already one order!  You want TWO orders of tofu????

Megan: Yes, I’d like my own.

Vanessa:  Actually, I’d also quite like an order of spicy tofu.

Waitress:  Wait.  Three?  Three orders of tofu?  What??

Us: Yes, three.

Waitress, to Megan: Would you like taste with your noodles?  They don’t come with taste.

Megan:  I’m assuming you mean sauce, so yes, I’d like some taste on the side.

Conor: Can we get some more cups for the tea?  There are six people and only one cup.

Waitress: No.

Thank God the food was delicious because we were exhausted after just ordering.  And I spared you the part when we had to pay.....  One more example of how much I need to learn Chinese.

Of course we had no plan for the rest of the evening, but we all agreed it would be best NOT to relive our previous night’s shenanigans at the KTV.  We went to get massages instead!  My masseuse had little steel nubs implanted under the skin on his thumb knuckles, so when he rubbed my feet, he really ground into the nerves and tendons and stuff.  It was painful, but the good kind of pain.  And he taught me some Chinese along the way, so all-in-all, a wonderful experience.  Fei chang hao!

Pre-massage soak

We spent the rest of the night relaxing in our hotel, watching a delightful movie called The Bounty Hunter.  We laughed. We cried. We all agreed: this movie sucks.  Who thinks these plots up??  Still, a wiser choice than drinking beer and saki until 6am.

The next morning, we woke up “early” (11am) and headed to the train station to go back to Taipei.  Silly us, we didn’t plan ahead (!) and the trains were packed with other human beings who were also traveling on the holiday weekend.  The audacity!  We all got tickets for the same train, but there were no seats left.  Standing room only.  

The next three hours dragged on as we hunkered down together in the train bathroom waiting area.  The six people from our group, plus 4-6 other unlucky no-seat passengers, sat, squatted, and stood completely in the way of people getting on the train, getting off the train, attempting to pass through to another car, or using the bathroom. 

Our cozy little corner

It may seem as though the weekend was an endless montage of frustrating events full of disappointment and misery.  But no.  It was a comedy-packed weekend full of “we should have planned ahead” and “we’ll look back on this and laugh.”  I definitely want to go back and actually SEE Taroko Gorge.  But I’ve learned that I need to plan things out a bit better. 

Oh, and that Gerard Butler has a weird mouth.

Home Sweet Taiwan

Yikes, long time no blog.  

People have been asking what I’ve been up to lately, since I’ve been absent from the blogosphere.  I don’t have a very exciting answer to that question, which I guess means that I’ve been settling into a routine here.  I feel as though I have become more comfortable living in Taiwan.  More like it’s my home, not just some foreign place I’m visiting for a while.  Hooray!

I still don’t speak any sort of useful Chinese.  Aside from a (very) few basic words, phrases, and food orders, I continue to rely on pointing and gesturing.  Now, if you’re like Carey Van den Busch and know that I’m an excellent “handsy-talker”, you may think that this talent is serving me well.  No.  I MUST learn Chinese soon.  I went this weekend to sign up for free weekly lessons at the public library, but the class was full.  Lucky for me, my Teaching Assistant wants to do a language exchange.  She’ll teach me Chinese, and I’ll help her improve her English.  I’m VERY excited about this.  At some point, beef noodles (the only thing I know how to order) are going to get old.....

Speaking of food, I have fully embraced the starchy, starchy diet of the Taiwanese.  This is a common conversation in my life:

Me:  “I’m hungry.  Let’s get something to eat.”

Others:  “What would you like to eat?  Rice?  Noodles?”

Me:  “How about something with vegetables?”

Others:  “Oh, ok.  How about vegetable noodles?  Or vegetables with rice?”

Me:  “Ummmmm......”

Salad isn’t really an option.   Oh, unless you like salad covered in mayonnaise “dressing.”  It’s ok, though.  I rinse it all down with about 12 cups of tea per day.  I haven’t had a Diet Coke since I bought one at Chicago O’Hare.  I never see Diet Coke in the stores or at restaurants.  Coke Zero is available, but we all know that’s not the same.  But the tea!  So many varieties!  Jasmine tea, Oolong tea, green tea, black tea, lemon tea, milk tea, yogurt tea.....  I’m drinking my way through the 7-Eleven refrigerator section.  ALMOST as fun as drinking my way through the tap beers at Bar Louie. :)

The one part of my life here that is starting to bother me is my sleeping schedule.  Three days a week I have to be at work by 1:30pm.  The other two days I don’t have to clock in until 4pm!  This may sound wonderful, but it is wreaking havoc on my sanity.  I knew that my schedule would be different when I moved here, but I imagined myself spending my mornings being productive, going to the gym, maybe doing some sight-seeing.  No.  It is all I can do to drag my bones out of bed at 11am.  What am I, 15 again?  What adult with a real-life job sleeps until almost noon on a regular basis???  I guess one who works second-shift.  Anyways, everyday I tell myself I will wake up at 9am.  I even set my alarm.  I hit the snooze bar until 9:30 or 10 before resigning to the fact that I will absolutely NOT get up.  I turn the alarm off and roll over back to sleep.  Then at night, I tell myself my bedtime is midnight, and it’s lights out!  The couple times I have actually followed my own rule, I have tossed and turned until 2am or later.  This, in turn, makes getting up with the 9am alarm impossible, and so the cycle continues.  So. Much. Sleeping.

Uh, now you all know the REAL reason I haven’t blogged in two weeks.....

Maokong Mountain

Weary of the hustle and bustle of the city, Amber and I decided to trek out to Maokong Mountain with her coworker Jesse.  Just outside the city, at the end of the brown MRT line, we boarded a gondola to ride to the top in style.  

Gondola with Taipei 101 in background

The gondola ride was smooth and picturesque.  I could do a lot of describing, but I think I’ll just post pictures instead.  That will save me at least 1000 words. 

Taipei from Gondola 

More Taipei

Gondola

Taipei 101 towering above city

Maokong Mountain

At the end of the line, we walked down some random road in search of tea.  Maokong has a history of growing tea, but these days I think the big money is in selling tea and tranquil views to the tourists.  Happy to play right into their hand, we settled into a tea shop and ordered up some oolong tea, tea-infused rice, and a radish omelet.  

View from the tea shop 

Tea!

I'm too tall for this table

After drinking our weight in oolong, we hiked further up the road to a Tianen Temple.  This is where we discovered the mammoth spiders that have haunted me ever since.  I swear, these arachnids are stealthy suckers.  I easily could have walked into several webs and been eaten alive, had I not been on hyper-alert the rest of the trip on the mountain.  Stephanie, you might not want to continue reading this blog.... pictures to follow. 

Along the road on Maokong 

Tianen Temple

Check out those fangs!!

Not an illusion.  It's really that big.

On the way back down the mountain, we stopped at the Zhinan Temple.  Also known as the “Temple of a Thousand Steps,” this temple used to only be accessible by walking up 1200 steps.  Luckily, we took the new-fangled gondola and then walked up a ramp. 

Zhinan Temple from the gondola 

Zhinan Temple

Zhinan Temple

More Zhinan Temple

As we were about to leave, I noticed that people were getting blessed inside the temple.  Feeling guilty about my heathen life, I hopped in line to be cleansed.  I sat down in the chair and closed my eyes while the Taoist man whipped something like horse hair all around me and then flicked water at me from a plant. 

Gettin' blessed

After a few moments, he called someone else over and asked him to translate a message to me: “Your body is unclean and you need to pray to be purified.”  Whaaaaaaat?!?  I thought for sure he was going to comment on how wonderful and bright my aura was, not that I was basically dead and rotting inside.  Why, Buddha, why??

He sent me over to another lady, who again prayed over me, and instructed me to drink some holy water.  Oh, and she said to be clean, I’d need to drink the water everyday and pray three times.  

Second cleansing.  Is that lady laughing at my impurities??

They blessed me again (this time it was more like a massage, so already, I was feeling more sun-shiny inside) and sent me on my way with the holy water.  

Be gone, demons! 

Holy water

I haven’t once remembered to drink my holy water.  I think I’d be more inspired if it tasted more like beer, and less like the sad sad reminder of my dark and scary heart. 

Taiwan Tailgate

Thanks to the autumnal equinox, Taiwan has a national holiday, called Mid-Autumn Festival, or Mooncake Festival.  They’ve got plenty of celebrating (and a day off school!).  So far, my favorite part of the shindig is the BBQ.

My boss, FuHo, invited me to a BBQ at her house, with lots of people from her church.  Here in Taiwan, there are no Little Smokeys or gas grills.  These grills are basically camping equipment.  But they get the job done. 

Grillin'

All weekend, I have seen groups of family and friends out on the sidewalk grilling happily away.  The grills are covered in meat.  So. Much. Meat.

Lots o' meat

I brought my pal Amber and her coworker Jesse along for the BBQ festivities.  One particularly delectable edible fired up was the Chicken Ass.  Yes, ass.  The Taiwanese teenagers who offered us this tidbit of “meat” giggled as they answered my favorite question, “What is it?”  One of the boys corrected the others, and called it “chicken bottom.”  But come on, we all know the truth.  

The chicken ass tasted like (duh) chicken.  However, it had little crunchy bits in it that nearly made me gag.  I can only hope they were small pieces of cartilage.  Any other option it too gross to consider.  I probably won’t eat any more ass. 

Amber eats some chicken ass.  Mmmm

Another traditional food is the pomelo.  The locals peel the rind off in a certain way, eat the fruit, and then wear the rind as a hat.  The fruit is delicious -- like a grapefruit, but not as juicy.  

Pomelo Hat.  A good look, I think.

My roommate Abi also introduced me to the sarsaparilla drink, HeySong Sarsi.  It’s kinda like root beer, but more like you’re drinking it in an Old West saloon.  Except in the Far East.   Yeah, kinda like that. 

Sassy Sarsaparilla

We all know how much we Wisconsinites like to tailgate, so all this grilling and eating was right up my alley.  There was a significant lack of beer (although I could have run on down to the 7/Eleven to remedy that situation), and no one was playing bean bag toss.  But overall, I was quite pleased with my first Taiwan Tailgate.  Now, if only the Brewers game had been on.....

Don't Drink the Kool-Aid

The oldest night market in Taipei, Huaxi Street, is also known as Snake Alley.  Once a legal red-light district, the two-block pedestrian walk is now home to shops, street food stands, and massage parlors.  Oh, and snake specialty restaurants.  

After wandering up and down the street a couple times, we decided to sample the local delicacy at the only shop that appeared to be selling snake.  “Snake Alley” didn’t really seem to live up to the name.  Maybe because we were visiting in the afternoon instead of after dark (this is a “night market” after all), but the place wasn’t all that lively.  No shop owners were baiting, killing, and draining snakes of their blood, as was promised in my travel guide.  Booo.  Not that I’m into seeing animals die, but when you have expectations.....

Anyways, the shop that DID have snakes out front also had a sign demanding “No Photo! No Photo!”  Actually, I think it just said, “No Pictures Please,” but in my head, I was back at the Sistine Chapel being yelled at by angry Catholics for taking pictures of the ceiling (right, Lani???).  I think maybe killing snakes for show is illegal, so they don’t want evidence?  I don’t know, but they didn’t care about me taking pictures of the results once we were inside the restaurant at the table.

We ordered the sampler platters of snake and turtle excretions.  Yum.   We were served a smorgasbord of snake blood, snake bile, snake venom, snake soup, snake oil pills, and some other unidentifiable snake concoctions.  I think one was vodka made from snakes.  It burned.  One may or may not have been snake urine.  

Mmmmm, snake juice.

The snake soup was interesting.  The actual snake meat tasted, excuse the cliche, like chicken.  But it was riddled with bones, which made it nearly impossible to eat.  I spent more times picking snake cartilage out of my teeth than actually eating the snake. 

Check out those chopstick skills

The snake blood tasted like hawaiian punch.  I think the whole thing was a bit of a tourist trap.  Oh, and I didn’t die from the snake venom, so that’s a plus.  Guess I’m immune now. 

Pinkies up with the snake blood

The turtle soup was a little sad to eat; the little turtle bits floating in the broth were too recognizable as a once-living animal.  They also served us turtle blood (again, hawaiian punch), turtle mystery juice, and small balls that could have been turtle eyeballs, testicles, or poop.  Not sure which.

Turtle death plate

As we sat enjoying the novelty of the reptilian meal, I thought for sure this place was intended for other Westerners looking to live on the edge with some sketchy consumables.  But looking around, I noticed a couple Taiwanese people sitting at the tables with trays of snake dishes and drinks as well.  So, maybe this was authentic?  

I don’t think I’ll be itching to go back to Snake Alley for another round of snake shots in the immediate future, but perhaps the place is more impressive at night.  Good thing I have a year in Taiwan to journey back and find out!

Little Victories

For the past two weeks, I’ve been relying exclusively on Chinese-speaking friends, pointing, English-translated menus, and 7/Eleven for sustenance.  It’s difficult to order food when you have NO idea what’s being served.  I don’t even know a few words that could get me by.  Oh, and I don’t know how to say “I don’t speak Chinese.”

Unfortunately, here in Wugu, the district of Taipei where I’m living, there aren’t many other English-speakers.  In fact, in the week or so that I’ve been in this neighborhood, I’m the only foreigner I’ve seen.  Yeah, the kids stop and stare when I walk down the street.  Who am I kidding, the adults stare too.  Needless to say, English-translated menus are few and far-between, and I haven’t come across picture menus, except of course at McDonald’s.  But even I have not been THAT hungry.  Yet.

My roommates had to take me to dinner the other night so that I wouldn’t starve to death.  On the way over, I was telling them how I needed to learn a few key words so I didn’t have to wait around for someone else to come along and make sure I got fed.  It’s not a good feeling, being so helpless.  While we were waiting for our food, I pointed to the tea stand across the street.   

“What do I say if I want black tea?” I asked, noticing there were no pictures to guide me.

“Hongcha,” Abi replied.  

Easy enough.  I practiced all the way home, and then immediately wrote it down.  I so badly wanted to be able to order a fricken drink without help!

And so the next morning, I got up, got ready for work, reviewed my Chinese notes, and headed down the street to work.  As I neared the tea stand, I began again to mutter hongcha, hongcha, hongcha under my breath.  I was sweating; was it nerves?  No, silly, it’s like 98 degrees outside.

“Ni hao!  Hongcha,” I said with a proud smile.  I don’t know how to say “please,” so it came out as more of a command.  But, the lady got the idea.  She nodded and started scooping ice into a cup.  Ohmygod, she understood me!  As she handed me my ginormous black tea, my heart skipped a beat.  It worked!!  I did it!  All by myself!  Look, Mom, no hands!

I wanted to skip down the rest of the block, but I didn’t want more people to stare and point than already do.  But you can be sure there was a little pep in my step.

All that over some iced tea?  Yes!  One more baby step to maybe being able to actually eat a meal in my ‘hood independently.....

The sweet taste of freedom

I felt so I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T (do you know what that mean), I decided to venture out on my own for lunch.  And by “on my own,” I mean I grilled my Taiwanese coworkers on how to order noodles, practiced the phrase over and over, and had one of them write it down.  Then I walked down the street, stepped up to the noodle stand, and placed my order with confidence.

Well, of course they didn’t make that kind of noodle dish.  Now what?  Luckily, the girl behind the counter new enough English to help me understand what kind of noodles they could make for me.  So, even though it didn’t work out exactly according to plan, I still got recognizable food all by myself! 

Seafood noodles

Just don’t ask me if the restaurant would have passed a health code inspection.