COMING SOON...

Been very busy lately, so haven't had much time to write. But I'll be posting a slew of new stuff starting this Friday, including PROM, ABSOLUTE BLISS, and AND I THOUGHT I HAD A DRINKING PROBLEM. See you kids soon...

TRIAL BY FIRE, FURY, AND THE FRENCH: EPICNESS DEFINED

NOTES FROM TAIWAN #8: PART TWO

 

June 7th, 2008

TRIAL BY FIRE, FURY, AND THE FRENCH: EPICNESS DEFINED

 

After the stress of the last five days, not a single one us had trouble draining our drink of choice. The Mr. Beam was treating me especially well, and it was apparent that everyone else was becoming quite jolly, too. After exchanging bottles until their were kaput, we made haste to our first destination of a night what would become one of the most ridiculous nights of my life.

In our newly loosened spirits, we boarded the bus bound for Barcode, and famous bar/hangout in Taiwan. We were told this is where a lot of Taiwanese celebrities congregated. But before we arrived at Barcode, we had to first endure the bus ride. Or rather, it had to endure us. After a week of little sleep, hours at our jobs, and late nights in the city, we were a little punchy to say the least. Anything anyone in our group said was the funniest thing we had ever heard, sending us all into a loud fit of laughter. The other patrons on the bus, however, did not share our humor. Actually, most noise at all is forbidden on the buses and subways in Taiwan. We had been yelled at several times throughout the week for merely holding an audible conversation. Some people held their bus time in high regard, and it was incredibly difficult to oblige them this on this night. F*** Americans.

The bus ride was mercilessly short, and we exited at our stop. Not yet knowing how to say "sorry" in Mandarin, I instead avoided eye contact with the disapproving bus patrons and instead chose to appear fascinated with the craftsmanship of this bus's ceiling. Back in the thick air of Taipei, we were free to let loose again. We entered the large shopping building which housed the infamous Barcode in its upper echelons. Before stepping inside its elusive doors, however, we made a pit stop at the bathrooms. As I relieved myself, I noticed a small sign on the wall directly in front of me. It said nothing but this: COME CLOSER PLEASE. I still to this day can't exactly describe what I felt at this exact moment. A mix of uncontrollable laughter (the image of a bunch of men in a bathroom being instructed to "COME CLOSER PLEASE" still makes me chuckle) as well as drunk paranoia (where THEY watching me? how close exactly was I to come? and why were they being so damn polite about it?) sorta sums it up. No one else in the bathroom seemed to find this funny, so I made my exit after washing my hands and drying them in an a blow dryer of jet-liner proportions. Seriously, the people in Taiwan must have the dryest hands on the planet with these things.

The seven of us met up with Jeanie and Chris, and made our way through the doors of Barcode. I could see why a place like Barcode would be considered one of the top places for the hip and cool to hang out. Fugly modern architecture, cushy sofas and chairs huddled around glass tables covered in bottles of classy alcohol. Plus all the creepy old men you could ever dream of. It seems no matter where you travel on this planet, you'll still be able to find a sub-culture of creepy old men who refuse to let go of their youth by hanging out at bars with 20-somethings. I'm sad to say that most of these men were of the American and European nationalities. After witnessing far too many fat, balding men in skeezy clothes  hitting on a groups of Taiwanese girls, I turned my attention to my Beam.

For the next hour or so, we sat on a couch/bed/thing that looked more at home on a beach in Fiji than at the top of a skyscraper in Taiwan. Some of us bought drinks, some of us didn't. And some of us made a quick trip down to the 7/11 on the bottom floor to reload our supply of Happy Juice. One Beam just wasn't enough. I was extremely surprised to find that the bar employees and bouncers didn't seem to care at all as we had the drinks we brought instead of buying from the bar.

The night wore on, and getting the dancin' itch, we left the young, hip socialites (and their 40 year old friends) to their conversations and Martinis to go get our dance on. The night provided a small spritz of rain to cool of our sweating bodies as we made our way to the MRT. At the end of the line awaited our nightlife heaven: Luxy. If Barcode is considered a must-see Taiwanese night stop, words can't even describe what Luxy is. Noted in every guidebook, and by every local, as THE Taipei night life location. I had heard tales of its epicness and grandeur. I would soon find out that those tales hadn't even come close to describing it.

I suppose I should mention that at this point in the evening, my ability to recollect the specifics of certain events is a little... hazy. Two flasks of Jim Beam has the ability to do that. The insanity that would ensue is forever etched in my brain, mind you. But I can only tell you what has stuck. As I like to call it, The Spiral, had begun...

We walked (or stumbled, rather), from the MRT to the club. The elevator doors opened. We paid admission (a little steep, but it came with two free drink coupons, so yay). We were marked with stamp. And we walked down the black marble floor to the club entrance.

As the door opened, I was blasted by a sound and fury that I have experience on very few occasions. Techno music absolutely blasted from monolithic speakers and mixed with the screams of hundreds, if not thousands, of screaming Asians to create a beautiful symphony of noise that crushed my eardrums and shook me to the core. Coupled by the dance of laser and strobe light, plus the warm embrace of Jim Beam, I felt as if I had entered a new plane of existence and self-awareness. The rapture.

Our blob of people squeezed its way to the heart of the dance floor. It was immediately apparent that we had made an entrance, as throngs of youngins turned to witness the Americans part the seas and take their place in the club. We stepped up onto a sort of mini glass dance stage, emitting changing colors from its base. And got freaky. I don't think that the rest of the club had ever seen people dance the way we are accustomed to in the States. Light by the glow of the stage, we danced.

Groups of young Taiwanese couples would walk by, see us, and gawk as if we were animals at the zoo. The boyfriends would push their girlfriends onstage to dance with us. Every time she would try to escape, he would push her back up onto the stage laughing hysterically as she would blush and giggle. Eventually she would become consumed by the American blob, sandwiched between a mass of of good ole sweaty USA. They probably weren't accustomed to this sort of thing, as they would turn bright red and couldn't stop giggling. The boyfriends would be laughing even more hysterically as they watched their girls become initiated into American culture as if it were a rite of passage.

One of these groups beckoned me to follow them. I obliged, and followed them up the stairs to the second floor of the club, where half of the drinking tables were located. I tried to ask them their names. They spoke almost no English. I only knew how to tell them my name and that I was an American. This was all they needed to know, as they proceeded to give me drink after drink, seemingly impressed by the fortitude of my American liver. Conversations were attempted on several occasions, but after a time we all just decided to laugh at each other. I kept giving them the thumbs up, which they enthusiastically returned. I was drinking at a table of a dozen Taiwanese college kids, not knowing how to speak to any of them. But it didn't matter. They had welcomed me into their circle, my Asian harem.

I chilled with my new friends for a long while, taking a few moments to look out onto the chaos below. The dance floor looked like a sea, flowing and bobbing. Lights flashed across the massive crowd, all having the times of their lives. It was easy to spot my USC friends, pale skin reflected by the lights, perched atop the small, glowing stage. I returned to hanging out with the Taiwanese students, listening to them chat loudly in Mandarin as I sampled the dozens of bottles littering their table.

Then, I heard dozens of loud screams erupt from the dance floor and saw a flash of orange light reflect off the walls. I rushed to the balcony of the second floor and looked down. What I saw is something Prometheus would have been proud of. Standing on top of the large bar, a bartender had lit a full bottle of alcohol and was tossing and flipping it an impressive show of hand-eye-coordination. All the lights of the club had been killed, and the club was now light by only this single flame. The bartender passed the bottle to a friend, who showed of his own bottle-juggling skills. Everyone watched as he tossed the bottle blindly behind his back, took a swig from a separate bottle, and spewed flame above the heads of the crowds, receiving deafening applause. The lights returned, and scantily clad female bartenders hopped up onto the bar and started pouring fountains of liquor into the eagerly awaiting mouths in the crowd. Rejuvenated by this brilliant show, I followed the college students down the stairs and back onto the floor. As I passed by the bar, one of the bartenders saw me and, without giving me enough time to position myself for the incoming fountain, proceeded to empty half of the bottle on me. I had always thought the drink was supposed to go in the mouth, not on your clothes. Apparently not in Taiwan, as I could now maintain my buzz for the rest of the night by sucking on my shirt.

I parted ways from my Taiwanese group, drenching them all in vodka as I gave them good-bye and thank you hugs, and rejoined my USC family, still holding down the stage. But it was time to move on.

The small stage was only a warm up. I forget exactly who's idea it was, but for whatever reason, we walked from the mini-stage we had marked as ours up to the massive stage at the front of the club. The stage where the throbbing speakers sat. The stage that sat beneath all the lasers and strobes. The stage erected as an alter to all things awesome and epic. The stage that became ours.

As we ascended the steps and took our place on Mount Olympus, every single head of the thousand-strong club turned towards us, and a deafening roar of cheers emitted from the crowd. I had never felt like so much of a rockstar. Feeling obligated to live up to such a welcoming reception, we to danced on stage in front of thousands of approving Taiwanese clubbers. I remember at on point flipping up my shirt behind my head, walking out on top of one of the ten-foot tall speakers, and sending out the Devil Horns, the universal sign of rock, to the crowd, receiving another resounding wave of cheers. You know that scene from 8-Mile, where he stands on stage and bobs with the packed club? Picture that, times 100, plus deafening techno music and blinding laser lights. At this point the people below began to hand their drinks to us onstage. What did we do to deserve such treatment? Nobody needed to spend another NT on a drink for the rest of the night.

I will forever smile everytime I think of that image: a group of 8 boozed up Americans and one completely sober Taiwanese girl, smack dab in a club in Taipei, Taiwan, dancing freaky on top of a massive, glowing stage, as throngs of Asian club goers watch in wonder, and even try a few of our moves on for themselves. Good times, good times. I'll never forget it.

Drenched in sweat, we made our exit from the stage, receiving one final roar of applause for bringing a taste of America to tiny Taiwan. We made our way back to the smaller stage for the rest of the night. We met a few more kids, eager and happy to join our group and practice their newly learned dance moves. It was a happy time.

But the night was not out of surprises yet. As I stand talking with Ben and Craig, the music stops, and a loud boom echoes from the large stage. We turn to see a dozen hott Taiwanese girls jump up onto stage and begin a choreographed dance. As if our jaws couldn't drop any lower, they then tore off most of their clothes within ten seconds of the dance's start, leaving only skimpy skirts and jackets. The crowd approved with a roar that dwarfed the one we had received earlier. Needless to say, our time in the limelight had been thoroughly upstaged.

The night wore on into the early morning hours, our family, forged together by a deep friendship that had been formed in merely a week of new experiences, dancing away every care in the world. Our group continued to grow throughout the night, many of the club goers anxious to share a turn dancing with one of the crazy American girls or guys.

Most of the group decided to leave, but I stayed behind with one other, not quite finished with the night. After dancing for a few more hours, I made my exit, drenched. The exhaustion earned from a night of insanity hit me as I stepped onto the streets of Taipei, still hot and humid even at this 5 o'clock hour.

Now, I hadn't exactly been paying attention to where the club was when we had first arrived, nor had I been in the sharpest state of mind to take note even if I had. So when I stepped outside into the damp, early morning air, I had no idea where I was. I walked around for a while, trying to get my bearings. I wasn't at all worried about my safety in this unknown part of town at this hour, as the city of Taipei is notoriously safe (seriously, you'd have to really search just to find a bit of graffiti). But my body had grown weary from the night, and I wanted to get home and sleep. So I hailed a cab.

Instead of hopping in the back, I jumped into the shotgun seat (no, I don't know why), which seemed to surprise the driver right of the bat. Then I turned to him and said "Erin Hotel". He stared blankly at me for a time, then a confused look crossed his face, and he shrugged at me. "Erin?" "Oui oui!" "Erin?" "Oui!"

Not only did my cab driver speak no English, nor did he know where the Erin Hotel was, nor did I speak any Mandarin, nor did I have any idea how to get there from our current location, but I had started to speak in a French accent. I have no idea why. Well, actually I do: after working in an office for 50+ hours this week where almost all of the English I would ever hear was in Cedric's thick French accent, I had begun to forget what American English sounded like. Helped along by the drinks of the evening, I had assumed the identity of a French exchange student. So instead of saying "yes", I said "oui". Instead of introducing myself as "Jeffrey", I introduced myself as "Joffrai". No, I couldn't make this up if I tried.

So there I am, in the front seat of this cab, drunk and lost in Taipei at five in the morning. As we drive around aimlessly, seeing as he has no idea where to take me, we held a very engaging conversation in which he would say something to me in Mandarin, I would agree excitedly in French, and then I would take a turn speaking to him in a ridiculously heavy French accent, after which he would laugh loudly. God knows the things we talked about, but I haven't had a conversation as deep as that in a long while.

Somewhere in the course of this conversation, we stumbled upon a word we both understood: Taipei 101. We both started yelling "Taipei 101! Taipei 101!" back at eachother, as if we had just stumbled upon the meaning of life. This continued for a while, two men driving down a lonely road in Taipei, screaming "Taipei 101" at each other.

We arrived at Taipei 101, both of us issuing another set of jovial shouts at each other. Having some semblance of an idea how to get to the hotel from here. As we drove, he continued to tell me about... something. And I told him about my wonderful life in France. It was a lovely moment.

The cab finally made it to the hotel an hour later, with a tab of NT 300. That's still pretty cheap for a cab ride ($10). But understand that it took the group that left earlier just NT100 to find their way back home. I thought I had explored the city pretty well before this night. But for as long as that cab ride was, I saw every square inch of Taipei. Seriously.

I bid adeiu to my friend, gave him one last thumbs up as I said "Merci beaucoup," and retired to my hotel room as the sun rose at 6:30am. Somehow I had survived.

I awoke in the morning staring at the legs of the chair. Confused, I got my bearings: I was lying on the floor. Despite the bed taking up more than 80% of the hotel room, I had somehow managed to avoid it in favor of making the floor my home for the night (it's times like those that keep my ego and self-esteem in check). That's how you know you had a great night. Booyah, Taiwan. That was one for the books.

Up next: PROM

POST-ITS AND TITANIC LOVE TOOLS

NOTES FROM TAIWAN #8: PART ONE

June 7th, 2008

POST-ITS AND TITANIC LOVE TOOLS

Friday. The day legends are made of. The day that the working class lives for. I cannot explain the joy I felt when I woke up this day. It had been almost a whole work week since I last had a full day to enjoy Taipei. I would soon have two.

But first, I had to make it through the work day. I continued my work on editing the event film and preparing English lessons. Near the middle of the day, another intern arrived. Marco, like Cedric, was from France. A cool guy, with a legendary fashion sense. Honestly, I would be happy if I could dress half as well as this guy does. Tight fitting jeans, immaculate dress shirts, and perfectly mussed hair. I'm sure this guy has women (and men) throwing themselves at him. The French are just awesome like that.

I met another intern, Lara, from Taiwan. That brought the office total at any given time to about 3-5 Taiwanese, 2 French, and 1 American. Any time throughout the day you could hear Mandarin, French, and English. I was happy to be at an office that demonstrated the mystic "melting pot" America is said to represent. I can't say that I've ever worked at a job in America where I could hear three different languages at once.

Before lunch, Cedric assigned me with another task: managing the company's email. Despite it's small size, the company is inundated with junk mail. So Cedric sat down with me and showed me exactly how he wanted me to sort through the junk mail. For the next fifteen minutes, I had to stifle laughter as he and I read through some very awkward emails together. Some of my favorites:

Swell copies of elite watches

Do not brake, go in a leg in due course

Huge love weapon is never too much

Update your penis 

Create a furore in her bedroom

Allow your rod elongate

Get yourself an immense love gun

Blue sexy pill - $0.33

Extra huge proportions

Make your thing as big as life

Immense augmentation of your tool

Immense dimension of your monster

Attain gigantic measurement

Get a rod of colossal measurements!

Immeasurable wand of pleasure

Love tool deserving of a titan

Reading these emails I felt as if I had stumbled upon the government plan for a new war machine rather than sexy-time advertisements. According to these ads, all women really wanted in life was to be destroyed by an immense, gigantic, immeasurable love weapon machine capable of creating hurricanes and consuming planets. You thought Homer's The Iliad was epic? Just wait until you see what a $0.33 blue pill will due to your junk.

With all the inappropriately funny emails sorted, Cedric then went on to teach my about the company's E-Flier. He keeps a growing list of about 8,000 email contacts which he sends out a weekly flier to. It's one of the ways he's explored getting the small company noticed with very little money. It was quite clever, actually. Even if the company does not have an event to advertise, he still sends an email out advertising other cultural events in Taipei. It makes the company seem to be constantly involved in projects and events, giving a good image of the company. As I've mentioned before, Cedric is an incredibly knowledgeable person and is very passionate about his company. He didn't start out as a businessman, but has learned alot in the past five years of his company's life. And I am learning alot from him.

Later Ya Yi and Ya Yun, gave me a brief Chinese lesson about basic words and phrases, mostly pertaining to food. This was incredibly helpful, seeing as, unless I am accompanied by a Mandarin speaker, it can be very difficult to order food. I usually look for a eatery with Englishtranslations below the Chinese characters. Not many places have this though (and English is basically non-existent at night markets), so the next best thing is to point at the pictures of the food and indicate how many on my fingers. But often this doesn't work out, as the majority of restaurants and eateries only have the Chinese characters, no English, no pictures. At a night market, this is survivable by just pointing at whatever they happen to be making and nodding excitedly. Or else just picking a random set of characters and hoping it's not chicken feet or congealed pigs blood. The use of the Two Thumbs has served me well. The universal sign for "good" or "yes", an over excited Two Thumbs up has helped me order many a food item. If, in the future, I'm speaking to you and nod my head enthusiastically and give you an approvingThumbs Up after every sentence you say, this is why. Borat would be proud.

Cedric took Marco and I out to lunch at a hot pot diner. We spent the next hour discussing differences in French and American culture, as well as culture in Taiwan. Since being here, I've had the pleasure of participating in many conversations about different cultures and peoples. It's a topic that never grows boring, especially when everyone I talk to here is so excited about learning about the rest of the world. I've enjoyed hearing more people talk about their travels and experiences in other countries than what happened on the last episode of Shot at Love with Tila Tequila.

With just a few hours separating me from the glorious haven of the weekend, I plopped myself into my chair (every time forgetting its lack of padding and every time injuring my skinny ass). I spent the remaining hours working on my video. It's an interesting experience editing a video in not one, but two languages which you don't understand at all. Since it was footage from the celebration of the French center opening at NTU, the dialogue in the film was a mix of French and Mandarin. My only guidance was whenever the crowd would laugh or cheer, and I would assume that portion was worth putting in the film.

As the hours passed, my eyes began to glaze over and cross. I began to see colors that I didn't even know existed. I noticed a Post-It stuck to the bottom of the screen, reading "yellow jacket". Now this mysterious appearance of this note would be creepy in its own right. I mean, what yellow jacket? Does it belong to someone? Will I need one in the battles to come? Was it code for something? It was creepy to begin. Then add to that the fact that it was written in my own hand-writing. Sometime during the course of the day, I had taken it upon myself to procure a Post-It note, write the words "yellow jacket" on it, and place it on my computer screen. And yet I had no recollection of doing so. I felt like I was in a scene from Memento. I wouldn't be surprised if I started finding tattoos reading "blue jay" and "pancakes with syrup" all over my body. Staring at a computer screen for 45+ hours this week had taken its toll.

One final event of note before the day ended. I experience the Taiwanese public trash disposal and recycling system. As I sit at my desk near the 5 o'clock hour, I heard the sweet notes of Beethoven's "Fur Elise" being carried across the humid air. As I listened, the classical score rose in volume to a resounding bravado, sounding as if it were just outside the office's only window. Upon coming to this window and gazing outside, expecting to see the ghost of Beethoven himself, I saw several large garbage trucks idling on the street. The music had come from the speakers perched on top of the vehicles. Apparently, this was the Taiwanese signal for trash day.

I accompanied Melody as she took a box of shredded paper down to the street. She informed me that on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, the trucks would arrive, blaring Mozart. I watched as the streets flooded with people carrying trash and recycling. I had wondered about the absence of dumpsters in Taipei. Heck, it often took a walk down several city blocks just to find a trash can. One would think that the absence of dumpsters and trash cans would make the street a mess, as people would just chuck their trash as opposed to searching for a disposal bin. Not so in Taiwan. People are extremely conscious to be clean with their garbage and recycling. I've even seen a woman go running down the sidewalk after a straw wrapper that had blown out of her hand. I've seen people, arms full of trash, arrive at the trash and recycling bins and then take the time to careful sort every bit of waste, no matter how small, into it's correct bins. Taipei may be a polluted city, with the glut of cars and mopeds. But it is possibly the cleanest large city I have ever seen. I honestly have took around the sidewalk to spot a gum stain, compared to the chewing gum mosaic that litters LA sidewalks after years of "artists" have tossed their chew onto the ground. The Taiwanese are proud of their city, and take it upon themselves to keep it clean. This is one of the many things that I admire about the people here. Yeah, they could drop their trash on the ground when no one was looking. But they don't do that, since they feel a sense of responsibility and community in keeping their city, their home, clean. Not only that, but the effort put into recycling as much as possible and wasting little made me wish for a similar effort in the States. I was shocked and impressed to see such individual commitment to the betterment of the community. No one was on recycling or trash patrol, berating people when they wouldn't sort they trash. People made this effort on their own. It is very admirable to see such pride in the quality of community.

We took our box of recycling to some poorer looking folk in the alley right next to our work and gave it to them. Apparently they sell it to the recycling plants, much like in the States. Most of the people disposing of their waste would take their unusable garbage to the trash trucks, and then take their recycling to the poorer people waiting nearby. Again, the sense of community that I felt here was incredible. Instead of being ignored or marginalized, the poor of Taipei were actually helped by other people. Better off people would go out of their way to give their recycling to the poor as opposed to tossing it in the recycling truck nearby. Homelessness isn't really a problem in Taipei, at least as far as I have noticed. I've only once seen a few people sleeping on the street. Maybe its just the part of town I've seen (although at this point I had explored much of the city), but homeless and poverty don't seem to be a major problem. And those that are poor are treated with the respect and dignity that all human beings deserve, regardless of social status. The old woman that we took our shredded paper too was so grateful. The people here are willing to make that small amount of effort that it takes to improve the life of someone else not as fortunate as themselves. The overwhelming kindness of the Taiwanese people is not a myth. It is completely genuine. I see it on a daily basis.

Trash time ended, and I returned to my office to wait for my freedom. It still being my first week at work, I wanted to make as good impression, so I had been waiting to leave work until at least one of the other employees did. This was often after 6:30pm, even though my hours ended at six. 6:30 rolled around...then 6:45....then 7:00...then 7:15...then 7:30. I finally left after Melody at 7:40. Now I would have been fine with this had it not been Friday, with a weekend of fun awaiting me outside of the office, or if I hadn't started working since 8:40am (that's an 11 hour workday). But it took all my strength and patience to hold onto what little sanity I had left and make it out of the office alive.

 

I rushed home (referring to the hotel), or at least as fast as the bus in rush hour traffic could take. I squeezed my way through the weary and tired people in the bus, rushed to the hotel, stuffed a quick meal of beef noodles into my body in preparation for the trials I was to put it through this night, and threw on some clubbin' clothes, just as everyone else was finishing getting ready.

 

Not wanting to spend too much NT on drinks at the club, we picked up some sprits from the 7/11. As I browsed the selection, it called to me: from amidst the shelves of liquors labeled in a language I spoke none of, a small glass flask of Jim Beam. Unable to deny this new level of class, I purchased my new friend, and we made our way to the pre-party place: the playground near our hotel. The night had begun...

Up next: EPICNESS DEFINED

UMBRELLAS, DUMPLINGS, AND SHOTS

NOTES FROM TAIWAN #7

June 5th, 2008

UMBRELLAS, DUMPLINGS, AND SHOTS

Today, despite the lovely chaos of the previous week, was the day I stumbled upon a semi-normal daily routine for the workweek. It is as follows:

    1) roll out of bed, feeling refreshed and ready to take on the day (and be taken on by it)

    2) shower, feeling like a giant as I slouch and twist, trying to stoop low enough for the shower head

    3) contacts and teeth, then play Coldplay's "Viva la Vida" (my new religion and also the official anthem for summer '08, kids) as I begin to dress

    4) turn on the Chinese MTV channel and watch Chinese music videos of sad people walk down the beach and staring out the window through the rain (if there is anything that will help me with my Chinese, it is this) as I finish dressing

    5) leave the cool, air-conditioned comfort of my cozy hotel room and enter the sweltering humid heat and big city noise of Taipei

    6) take the long, crowded bus ride to work

    7) spend the day working on a variety of different things

    8) leave work as the sun is setting, and take the crowded bus back the hotel

    9) meet up with a few people and spend the night exploring the city and eating delicious food

    10) unwind and catch up with a Beer in the Park

    11) come back to the air conditioned and maid-cleaned hotel room, CRASH from exhaustion, and then sleep like I've never slept before

On this particular day, as I exited the hotel, I was blasted by an unfamiliar, unforgiving ray of white. I cowered back into the shadows, seeing only black spots, baffled by this strange phenomenon. It took me a moment to realize what it was: the sun.

See, as hot as it becomes in Taipei city, one rarely sees the sun. The sun usually hides behind a gray sky of clouds and smog for most, if not all, of the the day. I hadn't really noticed it's absence until now. And to be honest, I had wished it would have stayed hidden, as its presence now made for a considerably hotter and sweaty trip to work.

It has been one week, and Taipei has not lost its lovely luster in the least. Every time I step onto the city's streets I feel as if I'm seeing it for the first time. I still marvel at the energy, life, and vitality it has that puts every other city to shame. I'm still shocked by the sheer quantity of food available on the streets, in the alleys, everywhere. I even appreciate things that probably drive the locals crazy. The long bus ride through rush hour that gives me time to collect my thoughts. The near-fatal incident that is crossing the street with or without the crossing signal. The countless ways to get run over by a moped, which at the end of the day make you wonder how you survived another day. Thing is, these things seem like the type of things that would drive a local Taipei inhabitant crazy. Just ask a LA local what they think of driving in LA, and you'll probably receive a flurry of curses as opposed to an opinion. But people here, at least in my foreign opinion, seem to accept the inconveniences and impatience that daily life can bring. The chose to go about their business without becoming bothered, flustered, or angry. I have never seen such patience in my life. It's incredibly refreshing to see drivers that don't even bat an eye when they're cut off on the road. Or people who board a crowded bus, excusing themselves as they pass by other people on their way to finding a place to stand, as opposed to scoffing at the crowd. Or people who don't get impatient and agitated as a confused foreigner tries to order a meal by stuttering and pointing (that foreigner would be me). In my opinion, it's one of the incredibly unique and charming aspects of life in Taiwan. I have yet to see anyone angry or frustrated. It does much to one's own mood to be surrounded by others who are always in good spirits.

I made my way to the bus stop amidst a sea of umbrellas. EVERYONE in Taipei owns, and carries, and umbrella. It's absolutely necessary in a climate such as Taiwan's. Most day's will begin either cloudy or fairly sunny (or at least bright, since the sun is elusive). But despite this fair-weather appearance, it will most likely rain. In fact, it rains almost every day here in Taipei, Taiwan. Sometimes a brief drizzle, sometimes cats and dogs. But almost always rain. And acid rain at that. Which is enough for a man such as myself, already worried about losing any more of my already thinning hair to such rain, to whip out the umbrella at the first drop of precipitation.

So why were so many people wielding umbrellas on this sunny morning? Well, for many Taiwanese women, the sun is as unwanted as the rain. In many Asian countries, Taiwan included, female beauty has come to be defined by the western standard. That is: big eyes, full lips, and most importantly fair skin. So even if the sun is just peaking out from the clouds/smog/haze, many Taiwanese women will open up the umbrella and hide under its shade. Many women use makeup that makes their skin seem fairer, and I've even seen advertisements for skin bleaching makeup on the sides of buses. The plastic industry is also booming in Asia, with some women going so far as to have eye-widening surgery. It is very unfortunate, considering how pretty many of the women here are, that they will go to such lengths just to look more Western and white.

Anyway, it was good to get a little sun on my naturally pale skin (except I wouldn't use my paleness as a standard of attractiveness).

At work, I was part of my first Infine meeting, which went very well. Cedric ran most of the meeting, with Melody, Ya-Yi, and I discussing the projects we were working on (Ta-Ting was out of the office on a trip to London). Cedric spent a lot of time discussing the goals of the company and why a certain decision was better than another. He likes to share his knowledge, which I've come to call, Cedric's Words of Wisdom, as much as possible. It's clear that he really wants his employees to learn as much as possible, instead of just requiring them to serve the company. He takes the time to explain his decision making, as well as his ultimate goal for the company. He started Infine with Ya-Ting just five years ago, when he arrived in Taiwan not knowing how to speak Mandarin. The company is still very small, with just four regular employees plus interns, but it does very well for itself and has been involved in a variety of art & culture projects, including concerts, dance performances, art shows, and the annual Taiwanese European Film Festival, which I will be helping to coordinate this summer. It's admirable to see someone who is so passionate and invested in his company and his hopes for its futures, and who wants to share this enthusiasm with his employees. I think I will learn much about running a small business by the end of the summer, as he has been explaining every aspect of what he does to me. Today he shared a lot of his business knowledge, as well as the profits and risks of performance art (dancing) versus physical art (painting), and why physical art is more profitable and thus a large part of the company's future. Interesting stuff.

We checked another "must-do" off our lists tonight: Din Tai Fung. Din Tai Fung is a world famous dumpling restaurants, and one of Taiwan's top attractions. It is famous for it's heaven-sent dumplings, of course, and has been named on of the top 10 restaurants IN THE WORLD on numerous occasions. As we, the seven Fellows and Jeanie and Chris who works Becky at the Indiana office, entered the restaurant, we passed by a room that was sectioned off by panes of glass, where the chefs created the dumplings of joy. It looked a bit like a crack factory, with white, powdery flower covering every inch of the kitchen, as the chefs, covered by white masks, did their thing. They were almost mechanical in their precision and grace as they kneaded dough. It was quite impressive.

Minutes after we seated ourselves, the dumplings began to arrive. They came in groups of eight, perfectly aligned inside the wooden dumpling plates. We ate and ate as the bowls piled higher and higher into towers, become shrines to our hunger. While the dumpling meal wasn't exactly what I would call a life changing experience, I have never quite eaten a food like it. The texture of the dough is almost like cloth, the right blend of sturdy and fragile, chewy and soft. It was like we weren't eating food, but instead little pockets of happiness and joy.

Also at dinner I received my first call on my borrowed cell phone. JS, one of the NTU students lent me here phone to use for my time in Taiwan. I had found it almost impossible to use, considering the menu options were in badly translated Chinese, and because of the maddening autotext which I couldn't figure out how to turn off, I had to input everyone's names in code. The closest I could get to my boss's name, Cedric, was Cedar, as in the tree. Ya-Yi and Ya-Yun were substituted by Yeah and Yes. Only names like Ben were safe from theautotext's manipulation. Anyway, as my ears heard my phones ring for the first time, I picked up on a familiar tune

Imagine me and you, I do

I think about you day and night, it's only right

To think about the girl you love and hold her tight

So happy together

My phone, at one time owned by a Taiwanese teenager, came equipped with The Turtles's "Happy Together" as it's default ringtone. And this isn't the most random ringtone I've heard either. On the bus the other day, a man's cell phone rang to the tune of "NOEL". I've actually heardalot of Christmas music since being in Taiwan, particularly in the night markets. Nothing says irony quite like hearing Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" as I walk down a crowded night market in the 90 degree humid heat of Taipei, Taiwan. When I asked several of the NTU students about the popularity of American music in Taiwan, they informed me that it was very popular, although much of the time they don't know what the words of the song mean. I instantly got an image of a club full of young Taiwanese, singing along to Lil John & The Eastside Boyz's "Get Low" and not knowing what the lyrics meant. America's cultural contribution to the world. *cringe*

As the hundredth dumpling was killed, a mysterious liqueur was brought to the table. Shot glasses were distributed. And with a resounding cheers and applause (and drawing stares from most of the restaurants patrons), we knocked back our first round of shots in Taiwan. It was a good feeling, celebrating having survived our first week in Taiwan, most of our first full week at work, becoming such a tight-knit group in such a short time, and sharing a slew of new experiences that only hinted at the months to come.

We left Din Tai Fung (I felt more like I waddled, considering the battle in my stomach taking place between the dumplings and the mysterious liquor), and wandered around the Sogo area for a while. We ended up running into a Taiwanese celebrity on our stroll. I have no idea what here name was or what she was in/ what she sang, but she was purty. She pointed us in the direction of a good place to get drinks. It definitely seemed like the place a celebrity would hang out. Black paint and silver mirrors covered the walls, loud modern music blasted over the speakers, and the drinks were expensive (even by US standards). But hey, we were hanging out in the bar that Taiwanese celebrities hung out in, so it didn't matter. Unfortunately we were the only ones in the bar. Thursdays must not be big party nights in Taiwan.

Bellies full of dumplings and booze, we made the journey back to the hotel, and had what would be the last Beer in the Park of the week. We drooled over the prospect of the weekend, waiting for us after one more long day of work. Bets were taken on who would make the biggest fool of themselves, and boasts of sturdy livers were made. Upon retiring to my room, I proceeded to turn on the tv, find the news channel with a cute news anchor, and attempted to get caught up on the news happenings of Taiwan. A little out of it after the exhaustion of the weeks (and helped along by the drinks of the night), it took me half an hour to realize that I was watching news in a language I didn't understand. I had thought that I held the weekends in high regard at school. But know I truly realized how precious the weekend was to hard workin' folk. News off. Lights out.

Up next: POST-ITS AND TITANIC LOVE TOOLS

THE GBF

NOTES FROM TAIWAN #6

June 4th, 2008

THE GBF

My first full day of work at Infine. The previous two had been only half days, spent getting acquainted with the office. It was time to rock 'n roll.

Upon arriving at work, I was tasked with doing a bit of research on a performer that our company was going to be working with, a dancer/choreographer named Caroline Carson. Unfortunately, I had a lot of trouble finding any information. I spent the next hour piecing together bits of useless information in an attempt to compile a page of info. Then, just five minutes before I was to turn it in, I discovered that Cedric had given me the wrong spelling of her name. It was supposed to be Carolyn Carlson. In a frantic rush, but aided with this helpful knowledge, I threw together some notes and reference sites in time to give it to him for his meeting with her. *Whew*

I then got to spend the next half hour proofreading Melody's English translation of an article she wrote in Chinese. This was really enjoyable and rewarding, as I would explain every correction I had made until she understood. I felt like it really helped her improve her English, and since I have always enjoyed teaching and tutoring, made me eager to start the English lessons I had been preparing for next week. Before starting work on my event video, I was introduced to Milla, another intern working at Infine.

Unable to postpone the inevitable any longer, I started work on a 90 minute video using iMovie. I ranted enough about my feelings towards this program, so I'll restrain myself here. But let's just say the initial few hours were very frustrating, as I had to teach myself to think unintuitively and illogically in order to use to learn the program. In addition to editing the Alliance Francaise video, I was simultaneously creating a tutorial for the girls in the office to use to learn how to edit. I learned a great deal about writing technically working on this tutorial. Since I was writing for non-native English speakers, I had to write the directions in the most simple, clear, and concise manner possible. This is something I usually have alot of trouble doing (as if you couldn't already tell from reading these posts). I would even say that speaking English here in Taiwan has improved my English. Many times I need to speak slower and more clearly than I am used to, and need to take care not to use unnecessary words or slang, in order for non-native English speakers to understand me. This has surprisingly made me a better English speaker, despite my current location being Taiwan, and has helped to combat the damage that living in Southern California can wrought on one's English. My Chinese may not be improving much (if at all), but at least my English has gotten better.

The rest of the workday was fairly uneventful, save for the time when I completely forgot I was in Taiwan. I've felt surprisingly at home here in Taipei, despite it being less than a week since my arrival. But while reading an English website and listening to the construction outside, I completely forgot my status as a foreigner. Throughout most of the day I'm constantly reminded that I'm not at "home" anymore (not understanding a word of what most everyone is saying, the look and feel of the city of Taipei, the unique food offerings lining the street, the insane mopeds, etc). which isn't a bad thing at all, mind you, just very very apparent. But for these brief few minutes, I completely forgot.

I also got a taste of what 5/7 of my next two months would be like. The chair I am to occupy does not provide much cushioning, and being skinny and having a small, if non-existent ass does not help matters. And our office is a very small, compact office with not much air circulation. Only one small AC unit located at the one and only window cools the office. Wearing dress slacks, an undershirt and dress shirt, tie, dress socks and shoes, I was drenched in sweat for most of the day. Every time I was especially soaked, I would look around at the other workers, hoping to see someone else perspiring who would turn up the AC. Instead all I saw was everyone else working comfortable at their computers. And every time I was cooling off, everyone else would become cold and turn off the AC. I drank enough water for a small - scratch that - large army. I felt like a big, black husky during a hot summer day, passed out in the park, as the surrounding hairless greyhounds ran around and played. The below-zero Montana winters had not been a good preparation for this climate.

If my body will be getting a work-out, but I don't even want to think about how blind I will be in two months. I spend most of my 10+ hour workday working at a computer. And my iMac's beautiful 24-inch screen at first seemed like a godsend, but is now a curse. I have to sit less than two feet away from it in order to reach my keyboard. I began to see colors and shapes that no other human has ever seen. The eye-ache/head-ache, the ass-punishing chair and the constant perspiration, had really taken its toll on my by the end of the loooong day. I really like the office, the work I was doing, and especially my co-workers, who are all great people. But the work week would definitely be a long, trying one.

I departed the office at about 6:30pm, having logged a solid 10 hour, 50 minute workday. Exhausted, but still hungry for to explore everything Taipei had to offer, I caught up with Helen, Cyndy, and Jeanie, and joined them on a trip to Ximending Pedestrian Mall. To call Ximending a sort of Grove on steroids wouldn't really do it justice. This ultra-chic, high class, massive shopping district has echoes of a mini Tokyo. Young, hip socialites browse the expensive (even by American dollar standards) clothing malls, shoe shops, and bag vendors. Many of the women's clothing that was on display at these places would look more at home in an anime than reality. Ximending is the type of place that a heterosexual, non-shopper such as myself could get lost in. Lucky for me, tonight I had been temporarily (or maybe permanently...) appointed Gay Best Friend (or GBF for short) in order to accompany my lady friends on their shopping excursion. This gave me all rights to share my very opinionated suggestions on clothes, as well as free reign to share my thoughts about which guys I thought were cute, all the while maintaining my masculinity (on second thought, something about this doesn't sound right...). Needless to say, it was fabulous.

After sharing some shaved ice, and getting a demonstration of the "Soulja Boy" (the dance, not the act of) from Cyndy, we made our way back to the hotel, courtesy the friendly MRT. After a long day of workin' hard and shoppinharder, one thing was agreed on during Beer in the Park #5: the weekend couldn't come soon enough.

Up next: UMBRELLAS, DUMPLINGS, AND SHOTS

CHANNEL 99

NOTES FROM TAIWAN #5

June 3rd, 2008

CHANNEL 99

I woke up at the crack of dawn, as I had yesterday, feeling completely refreshed. I never wake up feeling rested and awake, no matter how much sleep I get. I don't know if it is the excitement from my new home, or that I'm sleeping the sleep of the Gods every night due to extreme exhaustion, but for the first time in a very long time, I'm able to wake up early and easily feeling completely refreshed andrejuvinated. Taiwan is a magical place for many different reasons. This is just one of them.

I had obtained permission from Cedric, my French boss, to attend the Computex Trade Show today, so I once again joined the four girls on their bus trip to the Trade Center. I killed time for about an hour, and met a few more interns, before the trade show floor was opened. I was allowed access to the trade floor with a little business card altering.

The Computex Trade Show, which had still been under construction the night before, stood as an altar to all geekdom. The various booths ranged from the awesome (liquid-cooled CPU towers that glowed a rainbow of colors and were being hawked to patrons by gorgeous show girls dressed in tiny skirts), to the lame (keyboards!!! in different colors!!!), to the ridiculous (sushi shaped flash drives?). Overall the show was pretty interesting, mostly because of the show girls. They would stand upon pedestals as throngs of shy, nerdy business men would hover around them and drool. The girls would stand on pedestals and shout things like "AMD is number one computer platform! What is number one computer platform?!" to which the crowd of men would shout "AMD!", after which the girls would shower them with free t-shirts and umbrellas. This continued for the rest of the day. I stayed around long enough to re-afirm my heterosexuality, but not to long to become one of the creepers. I left the trade show with only the inflatable pacifier and a bunch of magazines in my shwag bag. A poor effort on my part. I should have converted to AMD.

Lunch was had at the Taipei 101 food court, a massive basement area with just about every type of food one could ever want. I picked up a sizzling, heaping pile of beef and rice, towering precariously on a small wooden tray/contraption/thing, and proceeded to dodge small Taiwanese business men on my way to a table, trying desperately not to burn my face off. It was one of the best meals I've had in a long while (something I find myself saying quite often here).

I arrived at my work and spent the rest of the day much like the one before, getting acquainted with the office, talking with Cedric, and trying to figure out how I was in Taiwan working for a Frenchman.

The rest of the day was pretty low-key, as myself and the Fellows wandered around the market near our hotel. While not as insane as Shilin, this market stands right outside our door, and is the perfect place to grab something to eat when I don't want to travel after work. Despite it's relatively small size, the market still teemed with life, full of Taiwanese of every age, hungry after a long day at work. One of the things that most surprised me about Taiwan is how little people eat at their homes. Most people in Taipei eat out everyday, for every meal. The reason is that the food here is so cheap. Spending over NT 500 ($5 US) on a meal is incredibly rare. Not only that, but many people don't even have kitchens in their apartments (Taipei is dense, metropolitan city, so you'd have to travel pretty far to find a house). It's a completely different culture from America in this regard, where eating out at anywhere besides a fast food joint is a rarity due to the high cost. That's why almost half of the buildings in Taipei are eateries, plus the crowded back alleys where food vendors set up shop. Additionally, groceries are about the same price as eating out for every meal, so many people just keep a few snacks at their house and go out for every meal. Eating here is a very social experience. People take their mealtimes very seriously, taking their time to eat their food and catch up with their friends. Needless to say, it has been great to be able to eat out for every meal for less money than it would cost to buy groceries in the States. This is one of the many aspects of Taiwanese culture that I've grown to love in my short time here.

On this particular not, I got some soup from a vendor in the market. At this vendor, they give you a basket, which you fill with whatever food you want off their cart. They then take this food and cook it into a soup. When asked if I wanted spicy (and still having not learned my lesson from my scorched taste buds). I replied yes. While this soup was delicious, the word HOT doesn't even begin to describe it in temperature and flavor. It was difficult to tell when my tongue was receiving burns from the scalding hot liquid, or from the tear-inducing peppers. It was a good meal. We all browsed a bit more, and then retired to the hotel early, the physical drain of our journeys so far taking their toll.

With my mouth and stomach aflame, there was only one thing that could put my body at peace: Beer in the Park. This tradition had become something more: a religion. Sharing a cold beer with friends after a long day at work and a long night in the city was the perfect way to unwind and relax.

If only the night had ended there. Unfortunately, it did not. While Ben and I were chatting in my room, I receieved a call on the hotel phone (which can be used to call any other room in the hotel) from Cyndy. "Turn on Channel 99!" she said. "There's a really funny cartoon on!" Now, both Ben and I should have been smart enough to see what was going to happen, but the exhaustion the last several days had brought had brought our common sense to a slow plod. Therefore, we expected nothing when we turned on the TV, and changed the Channel to 99. I only remember a brief flash before my brain shut off in order to protect my sanity, but it only took that brief second to get the full picture. To say it was porn would be putting it lightly. The only way I can describe it is to say that hard-core has nothing on this. Many guys. One girl. Doing things. Terrible things. Ben and I screamed out loud, trying to not vomit all over my hotel room, as we quickly changed the channel. On the other end of the line, Cyndy laughed maniacally, like a devil who had just claimed another soul. I felt like I would never be happy again after what I saw. I lay in bed that night shaking and whimpering, fighting back sleep in fear of what horrible dreams of Channel 99 awaited me.

Up next: THE GBF