...

My grandmother told me (through my aunt) that, when I was a child in Taiwanese kindergarten, I was always asking "Wei shenme, wei shenme" ("Why? Why?"). It reminds me of a time in first grade where I was always getting into trouble for pestering the teacher with questions.

I guess I've always had this need to understand...

...

My other aunt took me to her town, Puli, in the geographic center of Taiwan. There, we got hit by a typhoon. The roads were flooded, so I stayed there for two extra days. Returned from Puli, I saw rockslides and mountains had taken out two bridges and buried a tunnel. Evidently, this is common in this part of Taiwan.

Pray for the souls of the dead.

...

Inside, there is a room with 500 golden Buddhas, each with an alms bowl for donations/prayers for good fortune, another room where you can pay money to place a loved one's name next to a small buddha statue for good fortune, and a warehouse for even more stuff.

Somehow, I find the whole thing gaudy, and the antithesis of the stark and humble nature of Buddhism, but I'm a heathen anyway, so what do I know?

...

I met a Buddhist tea master, who demonstrated the proper way of drinking tea; an elaborate method of sniffing, sipping, clearing the pallate with hot water, and then more tea. He gave me a bracelet of lotus(?) root beads as a gift.

...

I'm too tired to write more, right now. More later.

July 28, 2001

I'm having a little trouble with this keyboard, since it is keyed to write Chinese characters, as well as English. But I can't resist updating my website from across the globe.

It's strange to think in two time zones. While it is almost five in the evening on July 28th, back home my friends are still asleep in two in the morning yesterday. And if you aren't asleep, you should, you have no excuse.

So, it's a little disorientating being awake when your body says sleep even though the sun is streaming through the window. It's a little disorientating being illiterate, walking about staring at signs that have no meaning, but are basic to everyone else. And not only am I illiterate, but I'm dumb, since I can't understand a word, and can't communicate.

So, notes about Taiwan so far?

Whatever thoughts you have about globalization, let me say this: If the culture and economy is strong enough, it'll change the business as much, if not more, than the culture itself. For example, my relatives keep getting me hamburgers for breakfast. However, it's made of ham, and is topped with sweet corn and mayonaise. Meanwhile, we drive down the street and see a picture of Donald Duck; it's for a fried duck shop.

I made the mistake of thinking that we were in Kaohsiung (Gaoxiong), which is in the southwest edge of Taiwan. I found out yesterday we are in Taichung (Taizhong). All my plans out the window. My relatives have been kind enough to be my tour guides, though, and I've seen plenty of the city, so far.

Here's something for the gender studies theorists: There are a lot of service businesses (such as restaurants, pool halls, etc) that employ young women. The more public the place, the more attractive the women. The more morally ambiguous, the more attractive the women.

An example? At night, sexy dressed women sit in these glass booths all over the city. I asked my cousins who they were, and they told me that the women sell a chewing nut. What makes this nut so special is that it provides a high, kinda like methamphetamines. Taxi drivers and other late night wanders consume them to keep them going. I can tell it is a social taboo, since my aunt warned me not to get involved with those nuts (no pun intended).

Oh, one last thing. Everyone is right; Taiwanese drive like maniacs. Nevermind lines, stoplights, or blindspots, everyone drives like they own all of the road. What's weird is that everyone drives badly, so the net effect is that everyone drives well. You know this guy is going to cut you off in the last minute, because that's what you would do. You know this guy is going to make a right turn in the left lane, because he's signalling, and you expect stuff like that to happen. And people honk not beacause they are angry, but because they don't want to run into you.

Well, that's it for now. I may not have a chance to make any more updates, since yet another set of relatives want to take me to Puli, in the center of Taiwan. My other aunt offered (threatened?) to make me cut bamboo. I hope that's not some metaphor for something else.

July 24, 2001

And so, I tell no one in particular that I'm leaving for Taiwan for a week.

And then someone will ask me, "That's it? Why a week? That's not enough time to see anything. Why aren't you staying longer than that?"

To which I'll reply, "It's a family trip. I'm going to meet up with old relatives and estranged family members."

To which they will counter, "But still, you don't have to spend all your time with family. You won't see anything in a week."

To which I think to myself, Would you please shut up. This is my trip and I can mess it up the way I want. Besides, I'm an inexperienced traveller, especially compared to the average American, who seems to go on a wild, wilderness trip every year, and I just don't have the funds nor will to do something like that. So shut your fucking face.

Instead, I nod, and say, "Yeah, I didn't plan very well. I was more concerned about family issues than having fun in Taiwan. Oh well, live and learn. Tee hee."

In either case, this is less a trip about fun and exploration, and more about willing family obligation. So there.

...

I've been to Taiwan twice before, both also as a family trip. The first time was when I was five or so. I can't remember the full story (perhaps I can clear it up on this trip), but my mother, my brother, and I stayed with my grandmother while my father either worked, or studied abroad. For a summer I tried to busy myself in an alien country.

I seemed to have got along OK. There are pictures of me in those cap, shirt, and shorts uniforms that all children have to wear. I even had a matching yellow pack. I must have had fun because there is a girl standing (and smiling) next to me. I don't remember who she was.

The only other memory is that I had an uncle with a motorcycle, and I loved to ride on it. I kept asking for the uncle with the bike (since motorcycle and bike have similar wordings). Sometimes I got to ride on it with him, and sometimes another uncle with a bicycle would take me for a spin. But that was disappointing; too slow.

So what happened to change me from that thrill-seeking fun-loving child?

The second time I was in Taiwan was when I was eighteen and just finished my first semester in college. I wasn't good company. I was fighting with my college girlfriend, and I was failing my Calculus class. My parents knew none of this. My brother was starting to get into more trouble in high school. And that semester my mother frantically called me (begged me) to talk to my brother, set him on the right path. As if I knew what that was.

I don't remember much about that trip either. I spent most of my time sleeping, mostly to hurry it up so I could get back to "my life."

The only thing of note was that I was trying to be vegetarian at the time. When I refused to eat chicken feet, or beef tripe, or the many many varieties of dead animal in Taiwanese restaurants, my father would laugh, joke and explain that his son didn't eat meat.

People would ask me if I was sick, or had stomach problems, and I would reply, "No, no, it was a choice."

My father would laugh again, say something about crazy kids today (since he spoke in Taiwanese, so I don't REALLY know what he said), and everyone would laugh. Meanwhile, I would pick at the one dish of chinese broccoli, and the dessert of oranges. I probably would have had more to eat if I just told them I was a Buddhist.

So, I'm ready to go back. I've even scheduled a therapy appointment the day after I return.

See? I'm well prepared this time.