I had three hours to burn until I needed to be at work, but what to do? Wednesdays always provide this wonderful dilemma of too much time to myself. Food, I decided, was first on the list. Bowling and some billiards would follow. Yes. Splendid.
Off I went.
I bought it last week, by the way. Two-hundred cc's of iron, steel, and speed; quite an upgrade from an aging 125cc plastic scooter. George I call him, short for George Hanson. He crouched easily on the sidewalk, looking solid and expectant. Nine days of driving had totally convinced me that my scooter was a waste of time; this was what two-wheeled transportation was all about: chrome, gears, and style.
I strode easily across the street, strapping on my helmet as I went. Afternoon sunshine slid hotly down from over the rooftops and onto my bike. I unlocked the bike and it started like a burst of hungry thunder. I backed out and left. The first light ahead of me turned green as I got to it and I went across the intersection with a burst of throttle.
Past the market I went, and then around an old woman on a 50cc junker that belched blue-black smoke like some kind of rotting dragon. A touch of brakes as I went over the canal. The beast beneath me grumbled and I gave it 4th gear.
45km/hr, then 50.
The road was straight and brightly lit by the hazy Asian sun. Traffic was light and the dotted center line skipped past my tires. The next light turned yellow and I slipped past. A few blocks to Chong De Road and then on to Subway.
Hah.
Taiwan is full of tiny intersections that lack both stoplights and stop signs. Instead, they leave right of way and all that important stuff to the judgement of the people on the road, and if you've ever driven in Asia that's not necessarily a good idea. I approached one of these intersections, as I had done a hundred times before, and then, as they say, shit happened.
As I breasted the crosswalk a white sedan slid half-way into the intersection and then stopped to check for cross-traffic. I jumped on the brakes and the front of the bike jackknifed, searching for purchase, and then disappeared. I guess I was airborne, I don't really know. I remember the pavement rushing up to my face at a speed too horrible to contemplate. I remember the crunch and grind of metal on asphault, accented by the plastic slap of my helmet. I slid, rolled, and stood up, staggering to the side of the road trailed by a string of expletives.
Jesus. I just dumped the bike.
I ripped my helmet off and looked up.
A Taiwanese woman was standing on the corner with that "Oh-my-God-he-crashed" look on her face. She babbled something at me in Chinese.
"I just fucking crashed," I said, I think.
Then I turned, went back to my defunct motorcycle and we helped each other limp to the street corner. I dropped the kickstand and took a deep breath.
My right hand was missing several ounces of flesh, some of which was dangling on a two inch strip from my palm. Road burns coated both of my elbows and I could feel more on my left shoulder. I could see blood and more road rash through the hole in my jeans on my right knee. Nothing broken. No dizziness. Right. Next.
I called Micki, but she was in class. I called my boss, Betty, and she answered. I gave her the short version and she made sure I was alright and then telephoned my branch. I called Jon and he said he was going to jump on his scooter and head down right away, he'd be there in five minutes. Phoebe, my head CT called me and I explained the last few, unfortunate minutes to her as tersely as I could. She assured me help was on the way.
Then I heard the sirens.
How strange, I thought. I just bit the dust in front of half a dozen people at least, driving or otherwise, and was offered no help of any kind. It struck me as odd that someone would call an ambulance.
I peered up the street and saw several police officers waving cars to a standstill and scooters off the road. What the...
I answered my cell phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Nik. It's Betty. Listen, we have a big situation, no one can drive in the streets."
I looked at the intersection with confusion. My bike wasn't in the road, and neither was I. No one else was bothered by my crash. What was she talking about?
"What?" I said. The sirens rose and fell.
"No one can drive" she said. "No traffic from 3:30 until 4:00 because of the air raid drill."
"Those are the Sirens?"
"Yes."
"Oh," I said. "Shit."
I checked the time: 3:33.
Now, I'm certain, I think, that if I was greviously injured an ambulance would have been allowed on the street to help me. But, as it was, I was mostly fine, and had no choice but to stand on the side of the road and bleed quietly.
It is with considerable difficulty that I write this, my first entry in several months. It just took me around 45 minutes to change all of my bandages. My hand is the worst. There is a circle about and inch and a half across on the heel of my hand that is without several layers of skin. Iodine feels like napalm on a wound like that, by the way. There is a smaller, similar wound, right beneath my pinky, but that one is considerably easier to deal with. I've got a good deal of road rash on my elbows and left shoulder and my right knee is bloodied and sore. My right elbow and left shoulder feel as though they were hit with a baseball bat.
Other than that, though, yea, I'm ok.
And yes, you're right, it could have been worse. My friend Andrew went headfirst into a car on Shwang Shi road and broke both of his legs. Luckily, I wear a really big helmet and the only thing I hit was the pavement. The bike is a little worse for wear, but overall the damage for both of us is strictly cosmetic. My thanks to the folks at China Medical for patching me up.
I took Wednesday and today off to rest up. I have three classes to teach before Sunday and then I'm a camp counselor/teacher for a week-long Hess summer camp in Singapore. So, I need to be as healed as I can get in 3 days; which won't be much. I know I'm way overdue for this entry, so here it is. Somehow, standing on a backstreet corner bleeding slightly into a wad of tissue after my first driving accident in Taiwan during an air raid drill struck me as a good story.
Drive safe.
Nik
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
A Night in Taipei
At first I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. I was in a hole in the wall bar somewhere in Taipei standing in the endless line for the men's room. A few overhead lamps cast their greasy light on the ten foot drink menu chalk board and puddled around the handfuls of Taiwanese guys that sat at the bar and stood talking in small groups. Cigarrette smoke drifted through the air, creating dirty halos around the few spots of brightness.
It was then, as I considered buying a beer to keep my blood moving (I had three hours yet until the sun came up and the buses to Taichung started running), that Eamon came out of the bathroom. I threw my new Canadian friend the friendly nod and moved up in line. He was still carrying his plastic cup of Guiness from Hell's Kitchen, the previous pub, and seemed to be nursing it.
"Hey man," I said.
"Yo," he replied and leaned toward me. "Lotta guys in here, huh?"
I grinned, but my chuckle quickly died under his pointed stare. He moved off and disappeared down the narrow stairwell that led to the gloomy, basement-like downstairs. My eyes followed him as he went, and then swept the room. Lotta guys in here, huh?
Well, sure. I mean, it's a bar right? It would be hard to find a bar anywhere on a Saturday night without it's fair share of dudes in it. But, something was...odd. A few seconds flashed by and then, zing-pow, the epiphany struck me like the headlight glare of an eighteen-wheeler.
I had thought that the girl to guy ratio was poor, but I was wrong.
It didn't exist.
The door to the bathroom popped open and I hurried inside and slid the minature deadbolt home. A western style toilet squatted on the floor that was covered in that familiar grime of beer, dirt, toilet water, and urine. In the dingy mirror my half-drunk face stared out at me with sardonic humor and a touch of laughter.
Yep. I'm in a gay bar. Sweet.
I heaved a sigh and turned to piss. Steve. Stevie-Steve-Steve, so much explaining you need to do...
Hell's Kitchen, although smaller than any of us had anticipated, was pretty chill. St. Patricks day lies on the horizon and the foreigners of Taipei had come out of hiding to celebrate it. Guiness was priced down to about $5 US a pint and Jameson and Baileys flowed freely. It was rather chilly outside so we opted to stand awkardly in a circle in the middle of the bar until a table opened up. There were six of us there: two Americans, three Canadians, and an Aussie. Sue was from Los Angeles and has the distinguished pleasure of being my co-worker at Dong Chu Branch, her boyfriend Joe was the big Aussie fellah. Eamon, Steve, and Jenny all hailed from different parts of Canada.
At first the plan had been to take a trip to Taipei and party for St. Patricks, crashing at some local hotel or hostel in the wee hours. But, we decided: Fuck it! Why pay for a hotel? Let's just drink all night and catch a bus or the high speed rail home once the sun rises!
Ahhh, Taiwan.
I had a good time at Hell's Kitchen; it was refreshing to drink beer with flavor. Even though Guiness is, well, Guiness, and I can only drink so much of it, it was excellent. I was trying to talk with the rather odd Taiwanese guy named Jordan, Jenny had met him on the bus, when a shot of Jameson appeared in front of me. Down the hatch.
Sometime later I was chatting with Eamon when a guy leaned on our table and gave me a rueful smile. I said hello and asked how he was doing but did he simply say hi back?
Nope.
He reached out and tousled my hair with one hand and then smiled more, his hand pausing on the back of my head. Holy fuck, if this guy tries to kiss me or something I'm going to have to drop him. I tensed for a second and then Eamon came to my rescue by offering his own greeting and a hand shake. The drunkard's attention diverted, I scooted my chair back a few inches. I was just barely able to discern that this guy's name was Kyle, but the rest of what he said disappeared into alcohol laced mumbles. One of the bartenders was now standing behind him talking to a rather large, bald headed man. I heard the words "This guy..." and breathed a little easier. Check out time, Kyle. Please leave your key with the front desk.
A friend of Kyle's was summoned and he attempted to take his intoxicated friend outside into the fresh air and away from the liquor and the surprised strangers he was sitting with. After a few jumbled, slurred sentences he stood to go. I offered my hand.
"Good to meet you man, stay safe."
It should have ended at that, but my luck just isn't that good.
He gripped my hand and decided it would be a great, a wonderful idea to lean over and kiss the back of my hand. I dropped my hand until I hit table and then hurriedly slid it out of his grasp with yea "Yea don't do that, man" and then he was herded out the door. Hell of a way to start the night.
From there it was down the street to meet up with a friend of Steve's whom I actually knew as well as she was also from Taichung. We would never have found the bar if she hadn't walked us right to it and after a few minutes inside it became clear why that was. I'll mention that the restaurant we had dinner in had English books for sale (I couldnt resist buying a few) and I was sitting in a bar of the male persuasion with "A Streetcar Named Desire" tucked inside my jacket. We hung around for a bit more, had a drink, sang some U2 and then booked it out of there to find a more...appealing...atmosphere over at Carnegies.
Carnegies is a rock and roll themed club/bar and I guess it's known for being a "pick-up" place, similar to the Pig Pen here in Taichung. Pig Pen is lovely referred to as the "meat market" and Carnegies was supposedly worse. Sure, I said, why not? Its 3am (I think) and I could do with a laugh.
And boy did Carnegies have laughs. In spades.
Legions of middle-aged foreign men roamed the strobe lit room, bobbing their balding heads to the rock music of their youth in search of women of which there were many. Old dudes looking for young, willing flesh. It had been a long time since I'd seen that many people doing what I call the "white-guy-shuffle" as a form of enticement. Good times. Things get a bit hazy from there but I remember the floor was really, really sticky. Some woman was dancing (poorly) on the bar and some guy by the bathroom kept clapping his hands and yelling "WHOO! YEA!" at nothing in particular. His excitement caused people to give him a wide berth as they moved to and from the toilets. Maybe he's just really happy to be out and about...or maybe he's had a spot of MDMA. I thought the latter to be much more likely.
Another cab ride then a quick stop at a convenience store for supplies. We stood outside and drank our street beers and waited for 4am. An after-party of sorts was going to get crackin' around that time at a club just up the street and we bided our time with Asahi, Taiwan beer, and caffiene. Then it was ten bucks to the door man, a stamp, and a stairwell to the next glass of liquor. Laser lights split the room and danced across the walls, ricocheting off the late night (or early morning?) revelers. Jordan took a nap in a corner booth and Joe and I stood by the bar polishing off Jack and cokes.
Five am rolled around and Sue, Joe, and I called it quits and went streetside to grab a taxi. Burger King was closed and Joe and I's hopes of croissanwiches were dashed upon the rocks of reasonable business hours. Two egg McMuffins and a short walk later I found myself grabbing a seat on the highspeed rail bound for Taichung. My first trip on a bullet train was uneventful; I guess I was tired after 7 hours or so of drinking, cab rides, and awkward strangers, and I promptly fell asleep.
Luckily I came to 48 minutes later (I started my stopwatch before I passed out) and I woke my friends in time to hop off the train. One last cab ride later and I was back in familiar territory. Most of the alcohol had left my head for better pastures in the vicinity of my liver and traffic was light so I grabbed my brain bucket from Sue and Joe's place and scootered home. 8am: I strolled in through my front door 16 hours after I strolled out and chugged all the water in my apartment before flopping onto my bed and zonking out.
All in a night's work.
Next time: WATCHMEN the movie and why I hate it.
Until then, you stay safe you crazy kids. It's a nutty world out there, I'll set my watch and warrant on it. Long days and pleasant nights, my friends.
Fun Facts:
-Taipei is cool.
-Guiness on draught runs upwards of $8 a pint.
-Sleeping is overrated. So are dance clubs.
-All cats have three names.
-I can play "Happy Birthday" and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" on the Ocarina.
It was then, as I considered buying a beer to keep my blood moving (I had three hours yet until the sun came up and the buses to Taichung started running), that Eamon came out of the bathroom. I threw my new Canadian friend the friendly nod and moved up in line. He was still carrying his plastic cup of Guiness from Hell's Kitchen, the previous pub, and seemed to be nursing it.
"Hey man," I said.
"Yo," he replied and leaned toward me. "Lotta guys in here, huh?"
I grinned, but my chuckle quickly died under his pointed stare. He moved off and disappeared down the narrow stairwell that led to the gloomy, basement-like downstairs. My eyes followed him as he went, and then swept the room. Lotta guys in here, huh?
Well, sure. I mean, it's a bar right? It would be hard to find a bar anywhere on a Saturday night without it's fair share of dudes in it. But, something was...odd. A few seconds flashed by and then, zing-pow, the epiphany struck me like the headlight glare of an eighteen-wheeler.
I had thought that the girl to guy ratio was poor, but I was wrong.
It didn't exist.
The door to the bathroom popped open and I hurried inside and slid the minature deadbolt home. A western style toilet squatted on the floor that was covered in that familiar grime of beer, dirt, toilet water, and urine. In the dingy mirror my half-drunk face stared out at me with sardonic humor and a touch of laughter.
Yep. I'm in a gay bar. Sweet.
I heaved a sigh and turned to piss. Steve. Stevie-Steve-Steve, so much explaining you need to do...
Hell's Kitchen, although smaller than any of us had anticipated, was pretty chill. St. Patricks day lies on the horizon and the foreigners of Taipei had come out of hiding to celebrate it. Guiness was priced down to about $5 US a pint and Jameson and Baileys flowed freely. It was rather chilly outside so we opted to stand awkardly in a circle in the middle of the bar until a table opened up. There were six of us there: two Americans, three Canadians, and an Aussie. Sue was from Los Angeles and has the distinguished pleasure of being my co-worker at Dong Chu Branch, her boyfriend Joe was the big Aussie fellah. Eamon, Steve, and Jenny all hailed from different parts of Canada.
At first the plan had been to take a trip to Taipei and party for St. Patricks, crashing at some local hotel or hostel in the wee hours. But, we decided: Fuck it! Why pay for a hotel? Let's just drink all night and catch a bus or the high speed rail home once the sun rises!
Ahhh, Taiwan.
I had a good time at Hell's Kitchen; it was refreshing to drink beer with flavor. Even though Guiness is, well, Guiness, and I can only drink so much of it, it was excellent. I was trying to talk with the rather odd Taiwanese guy named Jordan, Jenny had met him on the bus, when a shot of Jameson appeared in front of me. Down the hatch.
Sometime later I was chatting with Eamon when a guy leaned on our table and gave me a rueful smile. I said hello and asked how he was doing but did he simply say hi back?
Nope.
He reached out and tousled my hair with one hand and then smiled more, his hand pausing on the back of my head. Holy fuck, if this guy tries to kiss me or something I'm going to have to drop him. I tensed for a second and then Eamon came to my rescue by offering his own greeting and a hand shake. The drunkard's attention diverted, I scooted my chair back a few inches. I was just barely able to discern that this guy's name was Kyle, but the rest of what he said disappeared into alcohol laced mumbles. One of the bartenders was now standing behind him talking to a rather large, bald headed man. I heard the words "This guy..." and breathed a little easier. Check out time, Kyle. Please leave your key with the front desk.
A friend of Kyle's was summoned and he attempted to take his intoxicated friend outside into the fresh air and away from the liquor and the surprised strangers he was sitting with. After a few jumbled, slurred sentences he stood to go. I offered my hand.
"Good to meet you man, stay safe."
It should have ended at that, but my luck just isn't that good.
He gripped my hand and decided it would be a great, a wonderful idea to lean over and kiss the back of my hand. I dropped my hand until I hit table and then hurriedly slid it out of his grasp with yea "Yea don't do that, man" and then he was herded out the door. Hell of a way to start the night.
From there it was down the street to meet up with a friend of Steve's whom I actually knew as well as she was also from Taichung. We would never have found the bar if she hadn't walked us right to it and after a few minutes inside it became clear why that was. I'll mention that the restaurant we had dinner in had English books for sale (I couldnt resist buying a few) and I was sitting in a bar of the male persuasion with "A Streetcar Named Desire" tucked inside my jacket. We hung around for a bit more, had a drink, sang some U2 and then booked it out of there to find a more...appealing...atmosphere over at Carnegies.
Carnegies is a rock and roll themed club/bar and I guess it's known for being a "pick-up" place, similar to the Pig Pen here in Taichung. Pig Pen is lovely referred to as the "meat market" and Carnegies was supposedly worse. Sure, I said, why not? Its 3am (I think) and I could do with a laugh.
And boy did Carnegies have laughs. In spades.
Legions of middle-aged foreign men roamed the strobe lit room, bobbing their balding heads to the rock music of their youth in search of women of which there were many. Old dudes looking for young, willing flesh. It had been a long time since I'd seen that many people doing what I call the "white-guy-shuffle" as a form of enticement. Good times. Things get a bit hazy from there but I remember the floor was really, really sticky. Some woman was dancing (poorly) on the bar and some guy by the bathroom kept clapping his hands and yelling "WHOO! YEA!" at nothing in particular. His excitement caused people to give him a wide berth as they moved to and from the toilets. Maybe he's just really happy to be out and about...or maybe he's had a spot of MDMA. I thought the latter to be much more likely.
Another cab ride then a quick stop at a convenience store for supplies. We stood outside and drank our street beers and waited for 4am. An after-party of sorts was going to get crackin' around that time at a club just up the street and we bided our time with Asahi, Taiwan beer, and caffiene. Then it was ten bucks to the door man, a stamp, and a stairwell to the next glass of liquor. Laser lights split the room and danced across the walls, ricocheting off the late night (or early morning?) revelers. Jordan took a nap in a corner booth and Joe and I stood by the bar polishing off Jack and cokes.
Five am rolled around and Sue, Joe, and I called it quits and went streetside to grab a taxi. Burger King was closed and Joe and I's hopes of croissanwiches were dashed upon the rocks of reasonable business hours. Two egg McMuffins and a short walk later I found myself grabbing a seat on the highspeed rail bound for Taichung. My first trip on a bullet train was uneventful; I guess I was tired after 7 hours or so of drinking, cab rides, and awkward strangers, and I promptly fell asleep.
Luckily I came to 48 minutes later (I started my stopwatch before I passed out) and I woke my friends in time to hop off the train. One last cab ride later and I was back in familiar territory. Most of the alcohol had left my head for better pastures in the vicinity of my liver and traffic was light so I grabbed my brain bucket from Sue and Joe's place and scootered home. 8am: I strolled in through my front door 16 hours after I strolled out and chugged all the water in my apartment before flopping onto my bed and zonking out.
All in a night's work.
Next time: WATCHMEN the movie and why I hate it.
Until then, you stay safe you crazy kids. It's a nutty world out there, I'll set my watch and warrant on it. Long days and pleasant nights, my friends.
Fun Facts:
-Taipei is cool.
-Guiness on draught runs upwards of $8 a pint.
-Sleeping is overrated. So are dance clubs.
-All cats have three names.
-I can play "Happy Birthday" and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" on the Ocarina.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Xin nian kuai le!
Heya folks!
Been awhile...ahem...uh...hi.
Today is just my 2nd day back at Dong Chu branch and its been a little rough getting back into swing of teaching. Oh yea, I had ALL of last week off from work. Nine days in a row with nothing to do but whatever I wanted. Aha! Wonderful.
Friday the 23rd of Jan my vacation officially began. I'm once again taking Chinese classes and it feels good to be back in the class room. In light of the massive upcoming holiday of Chinese New Year (CNY) me, and the other foreigners in my class, tried our hands at chinese calligraphy writing. If you google 'chinese calligraphy' you will find a vast array of beautiful images; chinese characters with some artistic flair are really quite wonderful to look at. I wish I could say that ours came out just as well...
But I'd be lying.
Still, it was fun learning some of the techniques for brush strokes, grip, etc. I also learned that Chinese poetry is, well...crazy hard. Just imagine all of the work that goes into an English language poem as far as word choices for sound, meaning, etc. Now factor in that it has to sound right and have the proper TONE (there are 4 in Chinese), that will properly match the sound and tone of the other words. So, its not what it says but also how you say it, literally, that can completely change the meaning. I suppose I should mention quite frequently in Chinese words will have the exact same sound (sometimes the exact same tone as well) but mean different things because the written characters aren't the same.
Even Chinese TV shows that are in Chinese have subtitles.
But, I digress.
Sunday the 25th I spent over four hours on my scooter driving around the city. I brought my camera and snapped away, looking for any and all things CNY that I could find. And, lo and behold, I found a woman making Chinese calligraphy blessings for the holiday. It is common practice to hang blessings and the sort on your door and around your house to usher in the new year. What luck! Just two days after I tried the art myself I saw a professional at work. I had to stop.
I asked her if it was ok to take her picture and she was extremely cool about it. She made several smaller pieces and some locals bought them on the spot. I watched her for almost 20 minutes, completely engrossed in her skill. Yes, I have photos and they should already be on Facebook and they will be on Flickr for those of you that aren't on FB. Amazing, amazing stuff. Pretty incredible stuff to watch with a huge fruit stand right next door and scooter traffic whizzing by right behind me.
New Years Day. Monday.
I woke up sometime before noon and fixed a couple good old PB&J sammiches before heading out on the Duke again (my scooter :D). Monday was the actual New Years Day of CNY, even though the holiday itself is celebrated the entire week over. I decided to check out the sculpture/statue park on the far side of the city. Last time I tried to find it I went right past it and got lost for an hour or so. I had much better luck this time.
Much to my delight, though not entirely surprising, there was a market of sorts set up within the park and tons of people walking around. I strapped on my camera bag and waded neck deep into the festivities. Just assume when I mention something like this there are photos somewhereon Facebook or Flickr, because there always will be. I wandered around for 2 hours, snapping photos of people/things/the park, anything and everything. I got some snacks too: Taiwanese sausage, a bag of fried squid, and a bottle of fresh sqeezed OJ. Tasty.
Then I saw the fireworks table. Tehee!
What can I say? I like things that explode. Like bottle rockets. Especially if I can get them 30 at a time for .25 cents.
:)
I spent that night drinking beer in the park down the block from my apartment and shooting things into the night sky. Not that I was the only one, not by any means. Not a day went by the entire WEEK that I didn't hear something detonating or fizzing or sparkling at least once or twice an hour if not more. Think of the 4th of July x2 and stretched out over an entire week.
Lots of red. Tons of it, in fact. Red banners, red lanterns, red hangy-dangly things, red fireworks. Many places also had big paper-mache statues of an Ox in or on the premises. Others simply went for the big infatable variety. Things got pretty quiet here in the city, too. Too quiet, even. CNY is a really, REALLY big travel holiday. Hundreds of thousands of people hit the roads to return home or just to drive and be with their families. It was almost impossible for me to find chinese food to eat during most of the week because everyone was on vacation! I will admit I resorted to McDonalds more than once, but I had no choice! PB&J will only take you so far.
Overall it was a kickass week. Lots of beer and hang out relaxing time. Lots of things that go ka-boom, too. During my second or third trip to the park down the street, armed to the teeth with splody-things, I had an encounter with a police officer. Eek. I know. I'll get there.
I had just taken a swig of my beer before I lit the bottle rocket. Instead of putting it in a bottle or just sticking it into the ground I thought it would be more fun to just throw it and watch which way it flies (no I wasn't drunk, seriously, I'm just nuts). In a flash of sparks it zoomed away from me and towards a small brook that runs down the center of park before detonating in a lovely crackle-pop-POW.
Then I heard a whistle.
Oh, fuck.
Then I saw the cop walking through the smoke from the explosion.
Double fuck.
I grabbed my beer and yelled "Sorry!" in Chinese before trying to be casual about packing up the small arsenal of pyrotechnics I had brought with me. Not to mention the two six packs of beer my compatriots Brian, and Nate had contributed. Yet, something about this particular cop didn't worry me. After he whistled to get our attention he didn't walk any faster or say anything else until he got right up to us. He just kept mosing along at the same pace as if without a care in the world. When he reached us he said "It's kind of late guys, don't you think you should take a break?" Of course, he said this in Chinese but my friend Nate speaks awesome Mandarin and translated for us.
We agreed and packed up and went back to Brian's place and I shot bottle rockets off his balcony at surrounding buildings. Tehee!
Lots of reading, movies, explosions, food, night markets, scooter adventuring...what a week. Much, much too much to fit all in here, but check the Fun Facts at the bottom for a few highlights.
So, for now check out my photos and be jealous! Look for more posts in the coming weeks: I've fallen far, far behind and I'm going to work on making this a more regular deal. So, until next time my friends...long days and pleasant nights, say thankya.
Fun Facts:
-Fireworks are plentiful and deliciously cheap in this country.
-Playing pool until 5am is awesome.
-Dance clubs with bad ratios aren't that fun.
-Bottle rockets are versatile, providing hours of endless entertainment.
-There are two prisons and a drug abuse center half an hour outside Taichung.
-Prisons in Asia are just as sketchy looking.
-Happy New Year in Chinese is: "Xin nian kuai le!" (sheen-knee-ehn-quai-luh).
-Watered down whiskey is great to gargle to nip a cold in the bud.
-All cats have three names.
Been awhile...ahem...uh...hi.
Today is just my 2nd day back at Dong Chu branch and its been a little rough getting back into swing of teaching. Oh yea, I had ALL of last week off from work. Nine days in a row with nothing to do but whatever I wanted. Aha! Wonderful.
Friday the 23rd of Jan my vacation officially began. I'm once again taking Chinese classes and it feels good to be back in the class room. In light of the massive upcoming holiday of Chinese New Year (CNY) me, and the other foreigners in my class, tried our hands at chinese calligraphy writing. If you google 'chinese calligraphy' you will find a vast array of beautiful images; chinese characters with some artistic flair are really quite wonderful to look at. I wish I could say that ours came out just as well...
But I'd be lying.
Still, it was fun learning some of the techniques for brush strokes, grip, etc. I also learned that Chinese poetry is, well...crazy hard. Just imagine all of the work that goes into an English language poem as far as word choices for sound, meaning, etc. Now factor in that it has to sound right and have the proper TONE (there are 4 in Chinese), that will properly match the sound and tone of the other words. So, its not what it says but also how you say it, literally, that can completely change the meaning. I suppose I should mention quite frequently in Chinese words will have the exact same sound (sometimes the exact same tone as well) but mean different things because the written characters aren't the same.
Even Chinese TV shows that are in Chinese have subtitles.
But, I digress.
Sunday the 25th I spent over four hours on my scooter driving around the city. I brought my camera and snapped away, looking for any and all things CNY that I could find. And, lo and behold, I found a woman making Chinese calligraphy blessings for the holiday. It is common practice to hang blessings and the sort on your door and around your house to usher in the new year. What luck! Just two days after I tried the art myself I saw a professional at work. I had to stop.
I asked her if it was ok to take her picture and she was extremely cool about it. She made several smaller pieces and some locals bought them on the spot. I watched her for almost 20 minutes, completely engrossed in her skill. Yes, I have photos and they should already be on Facebook and they will be on Flickr for those of you that aren't on FB. Amazing, amazing stuff. Pretty incredible stuff to watch with a huge fruit stand right next door and scooter traffic whizzing by right behind me.
New Years Day. Monday.
I woke up sometime before noon and fixed a couple good old PB&J sammiches before heading out on the Duke again (my scooter :D). Monday was the actual New Years Day of CNY, even though the holiday itself is celebrated the entire week over. I decided to check out the sculpture/statue park on the far side of the city. Last time I tried to find it I went right past it and got lost for an hour or so. I had much better luck this time.
Much to my delight, though not entirely surprising, there was a market of sorts set up within the park and tons of people walking around. I strapped on my camera bag and waded neck deep into the festivities. Just assume when I mention something like this there are photos somewhereon Facebook or Flickr, because there always will be. I wandered around for 2 hours, snapping photos of people/things/the park, anything and everything. I got some snacks too: Taiwanese sausage, a bag of fried squid, and a bottle of fresh sqeezed OJ. Tasty.
Then I saw the fireworks table. Tehee!
What can I say? I like things that explode. Like bottle rockets. Especially if I can get them 30 at a time for .25 cents.
:)
I spent that night drinking beer in the park down the block from my apartment and shooting things into the night sky. Not that I was the only one, not by any means. Not a day went by the entire WEEK that I didn't hear something detonating or fizzing or sparkling at least once or twice an hour if not more. Think of the 4th of July x2 and stretched out over an entire week.
Lots of red. Tons of it, in fact. Red banners, red lanterns, red hangy-dangly things, red fireworks. Many places also had big paper-mache statues of an Ox in or on the premises. Others simply went for the big infatable variety. Things got pretty quiet here in the city, too. Too quiet, even. CNY is a really, REALLY big travel holiday. Hundreds of thousands of people hit the roads to return home or just to drive and be with their families. It was almost impossible for me to find chinese food to eat during most of the week because everyone was on vacation! I will admit I resorted to McDonalds more than once, but I had no choice! PB&J will only take you so far.
Overall it was a kickass week. Lots of beer and hang out relaxing time. Lots of things that go ka-boom, too. During my second or third trip to the park down the street, armed to the teeth with splody-things, I had an encounter with a police officer. Eek. I know. I'll get there.
I had just taken a swig of my beer before I lit the bottle rocket. Instead of putting it in a bottle or just sticking it into the ground I thought it would be more fun to just throw it and watch which way it flies (no I wasn't drunk, seriously, I'm just nuts). In a flash of sparks it zoomed away from me and towards a small brook that runs down the center of park before detonating in a lovely crackle-pop-POW.
Then I heard a whistle.
Oh, fuck.
Then I saw the cop walking through the smoke from the explosion.
Double fuck.
I grabbed my beer and yelled "Sorry!" in Chinese before trying to be casual about packing up the small arsenal of pyrotechnics I had brought with me. Not to mention the two six packs of beer my compatriots Brian, and Nate had contributed. Yet, something about this particular cop didn't worry me. After he whistled to get our attention he didn't walk any faster or say anything else until he got right up to us. He just kept mosing along at the same pace as if without a care in the world. When he reached us he said "It's kind of late guys, don't you think you should take a break?" Of course, he said this in Chinese but my friend Nate speaks awesome Mandarin and translated for us.
We agreed and packed up and went back to Brian's place and I shot bottle rockets off his balcony at surrounding buildings. Tehee!
Lots of reading, movies, explosions, food, night markets, scooter adventuring...what a week. Much, much too much to fit all in here, but check the Fun Facts at the bottom for a few highlights.
So, for now check out my photos and be jealous! Look for more posts in the coming weeks: I've fallen far, far behind and I'm going to work on making this a more regular deal. So, until next time my friends...long days and pleasant nights, say thankya.
Fun Facts:
-Fireworks are plentiful and deliciously cheap in this country.
-Playing pool until 5am is awesome.
-Dance clubs with bad ratios aren't that fun.
-Bottle rockets are versatile, providing hours of endless entertainment.
-There are two prisons and a drug abuse center half an hour outside Taichung.
-Prisons in Asia are just as sketchy looking.
-Happy New Year in Chinese is: "Xin nian kuai le!" (sheen-knee-ehn-quai-luh).
-Watered down whiskey is great to gargle to nip a cold in the bud.
-All cats have three names.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
2009, here I come!
Heya folks!
It's been far too long since my last entry so I'm just going to dive right in. So throw on your gear and get wet.
New Years Eve...holy moly. For the past two years I've had my festivities dampened down or ruined because of my job at the Sheraton. Heh, no longer. Around 10pm that night I arrived at Hotel one, one of the tallest/ritziest hotels in Taichung, in a cab with my Aussie pal Brian. A bottle of McAdams rye whiskey was tucked safely inside my jacket as I strode onto the elevator and hitched a ride to the 27th floor. Articficial smoke shrouded the quiet stage where the Money Shot Horns would rock us into the new year. The bar was upstairs (pictures are coming) and was a big horse shoe surrounded by lounge chairs and low coffee tables complete with candles. Each one was jammed with revelers and spirits were high.
I snagged my two free beers from the bar that my $20 entry ticket got me and cruised around. More people I knew showed up and the crowd in general grew. The band kicked up and kept the atmosphere good and funky with covers of James Brown until the clock struck midnight.
Hooray.
One of my co-workers saw me right after we entered into 2009 and said those fateful words that many of us have heard one these legendary nights of drunken debauchery:
"Nik!"
"Heya! Happy New Year!"
"You too!"
"I need a drink!" I said.
"Tequila shots. Now."
Aw geeze. The "shot" felt like a liter of mexican horror and took two full swallows to conquer. I fared better than most, one unlucky fellow handed his drink off and mumbled something about having to piss. Right. I hope his dinner wasn't expensive.
Another hour or two passed filled with hilarity, a guy that couldn't stand up, and irish drinking songs of all things (sung by rowdy Australians). I believe, as best as I can remember, Brian floated off somewhere and I got attached to a group trip to a night club called Liquid Lounge. I'd heard of it and it didn't sound that great. But, with a few gallons of liquor in my veins it sounded like a pretty goddamn good idea.
Liquid was packed to the gills, of course, and the crowd was equally rowdy and grooving to some pretty kickin' electronica. I have hazy recollections of seeing Davy, a nice irish chap I know, and a few other assorted folks. More beer, of course, and then I danced my way to the door to find a cab home.
The curb outside was lined with taxis and the sun was making its bleary ascent into the first morning of 2009. Sunrise. Mission accomplished. I jumped into my yellow chariot of wonder and mumbled some Chinese at the cabbie. I must have made some kind of sense as 20 minutes letter I was grunting and gesturing where to pull over. 7am I walked into my door and straight to my bed.
2009 was looking pretty good so far.
Then, as many or all of you know, I turned 25 a week later. A quarter-fucking-century...when did that happen? Officially the mid-twenties range, yikes. Thankfully my current job entails lots of sound effects, paper-scissor-stone, and sticky ball games to keep me good and youthful.
I try not to make that big a deal of my birthday and this year was no different (exception: last year when Eric and I had a kick-ass surprise party <3). I told a few people the day before and most people the day of as I had to work, of course. My little monsters in Jump class (5-6yr olds) told me happy birthday in their demonically sweet piping voices, and after class I was ambushed by my staff with a cake and songs in both English and Chinese...my first bi-lingual-cross-cultural birthday. Woot.
After consulting Sue, my co-worker that is all knowing in the ways of good food and all that stuff, I decided to hit up a Le'Bled'or: a German style beer hall with a French name, Asian staff, German beer, and Spanish music. Odd. Yet, there was definitely something satisfying about drinking beer that was opaque; quite a delicious rarity in this beer-heathen-country-of-no-craft-brews. Traditional fried appetizers ensued along with sausages, tasty veggie pizza and pig's knuckle.
Thats right pig's knuckle.
My, oh my. What a tasty treat. I honestly and entirely uninformed as to the availability of this swinish delight back home, but I recommend it (especially if accompanied by a good yellow mustard). I had planned to drink my one opaque beer and then be responsible and scooter home, but to no avail. A five hundred cc mug of Hefeweizen was plunked down in front of me along with an expectant look from my chums. Well yea, its a weeknight...but its my birthday...
Oh well. You only turn 25 once, right?
Surprisingly, Jon, Aussie Brian, and I had quite a bit of trouble flagging down a cab; most cabbies here assume we need a ride anyway and slow down instinctively waiting for the "Come over here and drive me around" wave of the hand. But, we made the best of the situation and snagged some cold ones at the 7/11 on the corner (where else?) and sat ourselves down on the curb. I must say that I am definitely a fan of drunken curb-side discussions at 1am in Taichung. The cab we took home had an LCD television in the front dash and one hanging from where the dome light should be.
What a country.
Well I think that's enough for now, I'll throw up another entry in a couple days (I promise!). Until then, you kids stay safe and warm back there in the Western Hemisphere. Long days and pleasant nights, say thankya.
ps. Please excuse any typographical errors, its been a long week and I'm too lazy to proofread :D
It's been far too long since my last entry so I'm just going to dive right in. So throw on your gear and get wet.
New Years Eve...holy moly. For the past two years I've had my festivities dampened down or ruined because of my job at the Sheraton. Heh, no longer. Around 10pm that night I arrived at Hotel one, one of the tallest/ritziest hotels in Taichung, in a cab with my Aussie pal Brian. A bottle of McAdams rye whiskey was tucked safely inside my jacket as I strode onto the elevator and hitched a ride to the 27th floor. Articficial smoke shrouded the quiet stage where the Money Shot Horns would rock us into the new year. The bar was upstairs (pictures are coming) and was a big horse shoe surrounded by lounge chairs and low coffee tables complete with candles. Each one was jammed with revelers and spirits were high.
I snagged my two free beers from the bar that my $20 entry ticket got me and cruised around. More people I knew showed up and the crowd in general grew. The band kicked up and kept the atmosphere good and funky with covers of James Brown until the clock struck midnight.
Hooray.
One of my co-workers saw me right after we entered into 2009 and said those fateful words that many of us have heard one these legendary nights of drunken debauchery:
"Nik!"
"Heya! Happy New Year!"
"You too!"
"I need a drink!" I said.
"Tequila shots. Now."
Aw geeze. The "shot" felt like a liter of mexican horror and took two full swallows to conquer. I fared better than most, one unlucky fellow handed his drink off and mumbled something about having to piss. Right. I hope his dinner wasn't expensive.
Another hour or two passed filled with hilarity, a guy that couldn't stand up, and irish drinking songs of all things (sung by rowdy Australians). I believe, as best as I can remember, Brian floated off somewhere and I got attached to a group trip to a night club called Liquid Lounge. I'd heard of it and it didn't sound that great. But, with a few gallons of liquor in my veins it sounded like a pretty goddamn good idea.
Liquid was packed to the gills, of course, and the crowd was equally rowdy and grooving to some pretty kickin' electronica. I have hazy recollections of seeing Davy, a nice irish chap I know, and a few other assorted folks. More beer, of course, and then I danced my way to the door to find a cab home.
The curb outside was lined with taxis and the sun was making its bleary ascent into the first morning of 2009. Sunrise. Mission accomplished. I jumped into my yellow chariot of wonder and mumbled some Chinese at the cabbie. I must have made some kind of sense as 20 minutes letter I was grunting and gesturing where to pull over. 7am I walked into my door and straight to my bed.
2009 was looking pretty good so far.
Then, as many or all of you know, I turned 25 a week later. A quarter-fucking-century...when did that happen? Officially the mid-twenties range, yikes. Thankfully my current job entails lots of sound effects, paper-scissor-stone, and sticky ball games to keep me good and youthful.
I try not to make that big a deal of my birthday and this year was no different (exception: last year when Eric and I had a kick-ass surprise party <3). I told a few people the day before and most people the day of as I had to work, of course. My little monsters in Jump class (5-6yr olds) told me happy birthday in their demonically sweet piping voices, and after class I was ambushed by my staff with a cake and songs in both English and Chinese...my first bi-lingual-cross-cultural birthday. Woot.
After consulting Sue, my co-worker that is all knowing in the ways of good food and all that stuff, I decided to hit up a Le'Bled'or: a German style beer hall with a French name, Asian staff, German beer, and Spanish music. Odd. Yet, there was definitely something satisfying about drinking beer that was opaque; quite a delicious rarity in this beer-heathen-country-of-no-craft-brews. Traditional fried appetizers ensued along with sausages, tasty veggie pizza and pig's knuckle.
Thats right pig's knuckle.
My, oh my. What a tasty treat. I honestly and entirely uninformed as to the availability of this swinish delight back home, but I recommend it (especially if accompanied by a good yellow mustard). I had planned to drink my one opaque beer and then be responsible and scooter home, but to no avail. A five hundred cc mug of Hefeweizen was plunked down in front of me along with an expectant look from my chums. Well yea, its a weeknight...but its my birthday...
Oh well. You only turn 25 once, right?
Surprisingly, Jon, Aussie Brian, and I had quite a bit of trouble flagging down a cab; most cabbies here assume we need a ride anyway and slow down instinctively waiting for the "Come over here and drive me around" wave of the hand. But, we made the best of the situation and snagged some cold ones at the 7/11 on the corner (where else?) and sat ourselves down on the curb. I must say that I am definitely a fan of drunken curb-side discussions at 1am in Taichung. The cab we took home had an LCD television in the front dash and one hanging from where the dome light should be.
What a country.
Well I think that's enough for now, I'll throw up another entry in a couple days (I promise!). Until then, you kids stay safe and warm back there in the Western Hemisphere. Long days and pleasant nights, say thankya.
ps. Please excuse any typographical errors, its been a long week and I'm too lazy to proofread :D
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