A couple of firsts

The blissful 75 degree days have officially ceased as of this week. We are now down into the 50's and with the rain and wind, it can be downright nasty out there. Ah... Feels like home!

I got my first care package in the mail on Friday and damn it felt good. I know it's only been a month but hell, nothing can cheer you up like a box full of stuff that you had been wishing you'd brought since you landed. (A big thanks to my Mom for making it happen) So I have now a new pair of glasses to replace the ones lost in Hualien, my old digital camera to replace the one lost in... well, you know where, and some great gifts from back home.

I spent a good 4 hours today on public transit in one form or another. This is not a complaint, I'm just sayin'. I traveled to the north of Taipei to go to Costco so I could pick up a wireless router for my internet. Turns out that this was apparently not the issue, so I'm still without high-speed internet for the time being. But I digress. Getting to Costco took two hours or more of bus rides, subway rides, and much subway terminal wandering with lots of confused muttering and walking up and down the same flight of stairs a couple of times to make sure I was in the right location. It was all worth it though when my eyes caught the heavenly glow of American influence that is Costco in Taipei. It's a beautiful thing.

My first order of business was to get some food at the counter, which is much the same as getting food in any other Costco except for the fact that here there are roughly 6 people for every one person in a Costco back home. The sheer amount of human mass packed into that place is staggering, it's like lining up on a conveyer belt to be shoved into a sausage casing made of shopping carts. You can hardly turn around without having to say "Duei bu chi" (excuse me) to some old lady or another and when you finally reach the food stand and see that big huge picture of a hot dog you kind of feel like you can commiserate with the poor pig who ended up in there. Is there pigs in hot dogs these days? Who knows. Anyway, the food is basically the same except for the bacon cheeseburgers, Seafood pizza and Peking Duck pizza. I was feeling extra adventureous today and got the Peking Duck pizza and was happy to find that it exceeded expectations. It's a bit like a bar-be-que chicken pizza from California Pizza Kitchen because of the sweet sauce and poultry flavor along with the green vegetable of some kind that is scattered liberally about. I scarfed it down while taking the escalator up to the second floor which is where you have to start shopping. Which reminds me of the first time I was there with some Taiwanese guys who were from California, I was remarking how interesting it was that there are escalators everywhere in Taiwan and one of them said, casually: "Well, around here you have to build vertically, not horizontally." And by God he's right. I have completely taken for granted that back home you can just build and build on new land all around without any thought of moving skyward. Think of a Fred Meyer, those beasts could be contained in the size of a basketball court in Taiwan, but it would be 6 stories tall.

Another interesting difference between the Costco's back home and the one here is that they give you liquor samples. Please, read that again. Liquor. Samples. You can be walking down an aisle filled with 80 pack boxes of diapers one moment and stumble onto a sample lady offering you a shot of whiskey in a plastic cup with ice. It's hard to comprehend at first, being an American who's so used to flashing his I.D. every time I want to take a crap, but over here they will give you booze for free in a grocery store. Which reminds me, I've not been carded once since I've been here and I have no idea what the legal drinking age is. In Washington I couldn't walk within 20 feet of a bar entrance without some lump of muscle and flesh with a skin-tight black shirt on asking me for I.D.

So after I purchase my wireless router and take a taxi back to the subway station I settle in for another long haul back home. But just as I walk into the terminal I remember that my care package also contained my skateboard trucks (the axle portion on bottom that holds the wheels) and I whip out a shredded scrap of paper that has been nearly water logged to death by the ocean (again, Hualien, that place destroyed me) which has directions, if you can call them that, to a skateboard shop off of one of the stops on my way home. I could not resist. It has been over a month since I stepped on a board and every time I leave my apartment all I do while walking down the street is imagine skateboarding every piece of marble, metal, and concrete that stands between me and wherever I'm going.

It was raining at this point but I decided I had to find this place. My directions say, and I quote: "Sun Yat Sen Memorial, #2, go through 4, then ----->" That was what I was working with and an hour later, I found the place. My heart was racing when I saw the blue sign for "Jimi" which is the name of the skateshop. I staggered in, wet, tired, and brimming with joy at having actually found the place. I have to admit, in my month in Taiwan I have not felt more at home than I did when I walked into that skateshop. It was like the outside world fell away and I had walked into a place where I was understood. There was a skate video playing on a tv in the corner and skateboards lined the walls. It was like my own personal Shangri-la and even after I'd paid for my board and had no further business in the place, I just hung about for a little while, not wanting to actually leave. I made a skate-date with the guy who worked there for 3 o'clock tomorrow at some place in ximen (pronounced she-men, which is dangerously close to semen, and has been known to make me giggle when said by Taiwanese people).

With my board in hand I strode out the front door in the rain and walked back to the MRT station with my head aloft, shoulders back, with all the confidence of someone who'd just found their own little home away from home.

The second to last first of the day was stepping on my board and pushing around the underground parking garage at my apartment building. I think I scared the crap out of a little kid on his way to the garbage area but other than that it was bliss. The final first of the day came about half an hour ago when I was sitting on my couch looking at skateboarding videos online and felt the vibration of what I thought was a lead-footed individual walking down the hallway. This steady thump... thump... thump... feeling soon turned into a gradual shaking of everything not bolted down in my apartment and the light bulb in my brain flickered to life: Earthquake! I had been told that Taiwan was notorious for earthquakes but I hadn't experience one yet. It got steadily more powerful and before long it was really moving things around, but I've been through a lot of earthquakes and wasn't too bothered by it, other than the thought that I'd never been nine stories up during one before. Another first.

When it subsided I had the overwhelming urge to get onto my blog and record the occasion which basically brings you all up to speed. Also, I'm going to start a second blog about skateboarding in Taiwan which I hope to get published on a skateboarding magazine's website. So wish me luck on that!

All in all, a long but fruitful day full of equal parts tedium and adventure.

Sometimes I forget...

Sometimes I forget that the world has not stopped since I've been here. Living on a little island in the Pacific can make you feel like everything and everyone else is very far away, and sometimes like they're not even there at all. It's very easy to get wrapped up in the notion that you are removed from the web of human existence but it is a flawed way to live your life.

Coming to terms with the fact that I'm far away from friends and family who need me is beginning to make its mark on my psyche. I hadn't counted on the fact that I would be just a ghost for so many people back home, like I could do nothing to help them. It is surreal to wake up every day and go about my daily routine and play games with a bunch of kids for a couple hours while knowing, in the back of my mind, that people I care about are dealing with extremely serious issues.

I feel selfish and cruel for going off and finding a path that's suitable for just me. Don't get me wrong, I love the opportunity for adventure and I revel in the fact that I've actually done something truly outside my comfort zone, but there's a nagging feeling like every moment that I spend focused solely on my own ambitions is a moment lost in another aspect of my life. I guess that is the way life works though, you can only spend your time doing one thing so you've just got to make decisions which allow you to use that time the best that you see fit. How do you know you've made the right decision? That is what plagues me. I wish I had a compass or a map that told me whether I was on the correct path, but I'm a natural skeptic to anyone or anything that says that they have the "true" answer to any of life's problems. Perhaps this is because I think that they cannot possibly have a better handle on it than I do, but I'd like to think that my own ego is not what's stopping me from believing these things. After all, there are certain people in my life that I trust to an extent that I would take their knowledge as a revered gift, though I may not always do what they say.

I do not like to waste people's time because I place a high value on it, and cannot possibly understand anyone who doesn't. Time, in the sense that we only have so many rotations around the sun to call a life. So why ruin someone's opportunity for happiness by using some of them up for your own ends?

I can only hope that my family and friends back home know that I love them and not to worry about me. I'm not moping about worrying about what is going on without me, I'm simply hyper-conscious of the fact that my decisions affect everyone around me and I don't want to let them down.

Aracnaphobia

After a long first week of teaching (I think that's what I'm doing anyway) children English, I finally got some time to explore the surrounding mountains of Sansia. On Saturday I went for a great day hike up the nearest mountain to my house who's name I am not sure of. The trail to the top was basically straight up with hints of switchbacks here and there but it made the elevation gain quick and straightforward. Once I reached the top of the ridge line I was greeted to panoramic views of my own city and all the surrounding topographical features.

At one point along the trail I saw a little offshoot into the brush that looked interesting and decided to see where it led. This was the the point when my childlike exuberance was taught a quick lesson in the dangers of the jungle. As i was walking through the thick greenery, I got caught up in a spider web, which normally wouldn't bother me, but this was no ordinary web. It was home to the most massively scary spider I've ever seen. I won't go into too much detail because I want people to be able to sleep tonight, but Let's just say that it was the size of my fist and had a look about it that said: "I could kill you in the time it takes you to scream for help." It was terrifying, and after that I took the jungle more seriously.

I got another lesson from the wild a few hundred meters up the road where I decided, again, to branch off into what looked like a lovely clearing. I was greeted by many, many more of those gigantic spiders and had now armed myself with a three foot length of bamboo which I waved furiously in front of me at all times to break any spider webs before I got to them. Upon entering the clearing I was given a heart stopping fright by a small, harmless bunny rabbit that bounded into the bush. The moment I saw it leap into the bush, however, it was unmistakably a rabid monkey with super-rabies and a nasty case of swine flu. I got over the fright though, and moved forward. It was at this point that I noticed a dragonfly on the ground, flitting it's wings haphazardly and not getting anywhere. "Strange," I thought, and I poked it with my stick. That's when I realized it was in the pincers of a Preying Mantis! This was the single most exciting discovery of my entire hike, and quite possibly my time in Taiwan thus far. You see Preying mantis' on National Geographic or a behind the glass at the insect section of the zoo, but nothing can really prepare you for the sight of what looks like a viscious leaf devouring a dragonfly by chewing it in half. I oggled at this sight for over 15 minutes, watching as the dragonfly's wing beats grew fewer and fewer, before stopping completely. Morbid, perhaps, but it was quite fascinating watching an evolutionary wonder like a Preying Mantis feed and I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

After this, I felt that nothing else on the hike could possibly excite me more and sighed comfortably with the knowledge that I had seen the most interesting thing going on in the world that day. With a smile on my face, I continued up the mountain until I saw another turn off that looked promising.

After about thirty meters of winding trail I came upon an absolutely idyllic spot. Imagine a small pool of rock lined water roughly thirty feet wide the color of jade, with beautiful green grass surrounding it on all sides, backed sharply by rising cliffs topped with lush vegetation. Whatever you are imagining, this was something like that, but better. I sat here in utter seclusion, with nothing but the sounds of strange birds which I've never heard before and the low, everpresent, din of insects flying about or rubbing their legs together or whatever they do to make noise.

I walked over to a sun drenched rock and set down my bag, had a drink from my water bottle, then pulled out my copy of "The Hobbit" and read for an hour in the sunshine. I couldn't picture a better way to spend a lazy afternoon.

After my brief intermission, I summited the mighty peak and stood about a large square containing a massive red bell that had a lovely description carved into a marble placard that was in Chinese and therefore unintelligible. But from what I could gather, it went something like: "This here is the giant bell, It's been here for a really long time, and will continue to be here long after your mortal remains have been swept from the Earth. Give it the due respect it deserves and take a photo in front of it holding up a peace sign." I tried, but i no longer have a camera, so I bowed to it and kept on up the trail.

The last viewpoint that I found before turning around, as the sun was getting low in the sky and it wouldn't be light for much longer, was the most beautiful of the entire hike and is hard to describe. All the trees around this outcrop of rocks are swathed in Buddhist prayer flags, waving gently in the breeze and dancing about the canopy and in your face. They have been tied to every branch capable of holding their string and create a truly serene atmosphere at the silent top of the mountain. The rock outcrop juts slightly out past the plants and affords you an uninterrupted view for miles in every direction. Below is the large river which runs through Sansia who's name I also do not know, though I admit that i should. At it's mouth is a massive delta where the water waits patiently to creep through the dam and trickle through the city. Beyond the river is miles of city-scape and further on are more lush mountains. It's breathtaking.

That's all I can bear to put down at the moment, though I could go on for plenty more self indulgent paragraphs, but I won't put you all through that.

Here We Go Again

Where to begin... Well I've had a lot of questions as to why on earth anyone would name a blog "Neon Beethoven." I will explain. There is more neon in fifty feet of any given Taiwan city block than in the whole of Las Vegas. It leads one to believe that if there are in fact intelligent lifeforms in the galaxy besides ourselves, they're going to take one look at the planet and think to themselves "Jesus God almighty look at that little spot over there in the water, it's lit up like a Christmas tree! It's got to be the center of everything!" But, of course, they'd be wrong because we all know America is the center of everything.
The Beethoven portion comes from the fact that all the garbage trucks in the country play "Fleur De Lise" at all hours of the day and night. So much so that I've begun to sing it in my sleep. I also sing it in the shower, and sometimes while brushing my teeth. It was charming for about 24 hours and by now it's begun to aggrevate my nerves like rusty cheese grater. Unpleasant is the word I'm looking for.

Anyway, onto the show. I've recently set my self up with a place, and it's a happening pad to say the least. I've got a large bedroom and living room area accompanied by a small kitchen and room for a desk. It's pretty unremarkable in the fashion department, but I've got a few posters up for personal decoration and it's coming along nicely. I've got a television with 80+ channels, 5 of which are in English which means, by process of elimination, I've got about 3 chances at any given hour to find something worth watching. It's safe to say I won't be watching a whole lot of television.

Last week was training. That sounds awful I'm sure but it really wasn't, first and foremost I learned that UK-English and US-English are two very different species of beast. The sheer amount of different accents that come from a single island in the Atlantic is vast and varied. I had no idea that someone from Manchester and someone from Liverpool could sound so distinctly different. Nor that Australians pronounce things like South Africans, but no one pronounces things like New Zealanders. It was all very confusing but fascinating at the same time. By the end of the week I learned so many new turns of phrase and alternate pronunciations that I nearly lost my American identity altogether. As time progressed I even began to sound English in my internal dialogue, and anytime I wrote down a word or phrase I instinctively pronounced it with a UK accent. We did treat them to a little American pride on Thanksgiving though, but only one of them wanted to spend the money to get a full turkey dinner. We headed out to a place called "Grandma Nitti's" and had one of the most satisfying Thanksgiving feasts I've had in a long time. It began by all of us sitting down, and then realising that you could bring your own beer to the restaurant, this caused a mad dash to the 7-11 where a large volume of Taiwan Beer was purchased, and with visible giddyness, we scrambled back to the restaurant like school boys who just stole the teacher's car keys. This was actually the begining of much more drinking in public, which we found out was completely legal. At one point in the evening we lost part of our group when they went to go buy more beer. All of the missing party was from the UK and we had only a single englishman with us, so we asked him where they might have gone. "Well, if I were English, and I wanted to drink, I'd probably go to the nearest park to a 7-11 and find a comfortable bench." 5 minutes later we'd found them. I have established a new found respect for the English ability to find a suitable drinking bench no matter what country or corner of the world. Somewhere between drinking in parks and attending training we also managed to visit the Taipei 101, or the world's tallest building as it is also known.

The Taipei 101 is the most obvious sign that human beings are capable of great things. It is at the same time breathtaking and awe inspiring. When standing in it's presence, you want to begin doing something amazing with your life: take up an art, write an outstanding book, find a lover and make a home for yourselves, all these things and more seem suddenly possible and less distant a reality than ever before. I'ts sheer size and magnitude is a giant "Fuck You" to gravity and all other laws of physics. It stands over the city like an omnipotent master of the city skyline and dominates its surroundings with the practiced ease of a general before his troops. It's really really big and impressive is what I'm trying to say. The elevator to the top takes roughly 30 seconds, I'm not joking. It's the world's fastest elevator inside the world's tallest building, way to go Taiwan. In the time it takes the average person to find something to eat in a fully-stocked refrigerator, you could be up and down the Taipei 101 3 times. My ears popped five times on the way down alone. Very impressive building.

This past weekend some of the teachers from my school invited me to go on a trip to the East coast with them. One girl, Kay, had her parents in town from England and they were dying to see the more tropical region of the country, as were the rest of us. All in all, ten of us set out Saturday morning at 7am to board a high speed rail to Hualien, a small beach community in the beautiful mountainous region of eastern Taiwan. We dragged our stiff legs to the hostel and set down our stuff. Rejuvenated by the sudden realization that we'd really made it, we headed off for some food and eventually the beach.

Hualien has, to the American eye, a completely unrealized potential for beauty and to be a travel destination rivaling any other in the south Pacific. But they like their sleepy town, and we did too. There was virtually nothing not to be pleased about when walking along the beachfront, and when we went to test the waters to see if it was still warm despite being the middle of winter, we were delighted to find that it was. We drew quite a crowd as we played on the beach, and not a single Taiwanese person could be found within 100 yards of the edge of the shore, despite the fact that the water was 75 degrees and beautiful. Eventually we became such an attraction that the police decided we were too cool for school and kicked us off the beach, for reasons we'll never know. We weren't even swimming, but what are you going to do. We headed off in search of the rest of our gang which weren't up for the water and headed off to our sanctuary for the next 4-5 hours. As you can guess, it was a bar.

This bar had everything going for it. Beach front locale, bottles hanging off the ceiling on strings with little lights inside them, an atmosphere of utter relaxation, and a look that screamed equal parts Swiss Family Robinson and Irish pub. Unfortunately the beer was flat and the service was slow, but really there was no complaining from us.

I'd love to treat you all to some photos of this, but what happened next can only be described as "first time traveler's blues." At some point in the evening we walked back to the hostel and everyone went off to bed. Not me though, oh no, not me. I went out again with the hostel-keeper and two of the guys from our group to a bar called, and I'm not making this up: "Crazy Bar."

A few words on crazy bar: It was a small, very dark, locals only type hang out with disastrously loud music and strong drinks. Mike, the hostel-keeper, got us in and set us up with some free drink tickets. I think I managed to drink one whiskey-coke before all hell broke loose.

I'm not sure what happened between that first drink and 7am, but what I can tell you is that I came back to consciousness in the early morning hours while on the back of someone's scooter racing around the city. Fortunately, the driver, who's name I never got, knew some English and was able to get me back to the train station where I'd arrived the day before. This took some time, and two train stations, to complete. Combine a serious hangover and slightly drunk American with some random Taiwanese scooter driver and you can understand why this took a little time to work out. I thanked her and set off in search of the hostel where I arrived and found the doors not yet open, so I slumped down on the bench out front and was awakened a few moments later by an all too cheerful group of friends. They were happy to have me back, and told me how they worried. (To Mom: I'm sorry)

The reason I say that I can no longer treat you to photos is because I, in my drunken glory, had decided that taking my backpack with me to Crazy Bar would be good idea. It was not. And I've not seen it since. What was in this backpack you ask? Oh, just my camera, flip-flops, ipod and the only pair of glasses that I own.

Never. Go. To. Crazy Bar. I cannot stress that enough.

Anyway, I'm home now and can look back on this moment in my life as a time when I did not take proper precautions and paid for them dearly.

Live and Learn.

The First of Many

Hello to everyone back home! I'm not sure who all will be reading this but thank you to all of you for taking the time to be interested in my life. I hope that I can fulfill your expectations.
It is now my third day here in Taiwan and already the time has flown by. The subtle, and not so subtle, differences between everyday life in America and that of this nation are so impressive that it is hard to describe the transition. Fortunately for you, I have been taking notes.

On the first day I went to the doctor to get checked out so that the government can see that I truly am not a weapon of biological warfare from the US who has come to infect this nation with some sort of blood-borne illness. The results should come back Monday. Before heading into the doctor, my guide Ray took me to get some food so that my blood sugar would be adequate. We got some simple noodles with a delicious soup and oysters. I immediately went for the hot sauce, because that's just the kind of madman that I am, and dumped a big mound of it in the middle of my soup. Ray's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he said in broken English "You really like spicy!" I have to admit, that made me a little nervous, and he began to laugh and told me good luck with my soup. It was actually not as bad as I thought it was going to be but there was some sweat on my brow that I decided not to make a big deal out of because I'm a man and I can handle the heat.

After lunch and my doctor's visit, Ray decided the best thing for me would be to drop me off in the middle of the city for about 2 hours while he did some other business. I was alright with this and immediately set out to find some interesting photos. It became abundantly clear to me that learning a little more Mandarin than just "hello" and "Have you eaten yet?" would have been a good idea. People openly gawked at me while I strutted down the crowded market street casually dipping into stalls to see what was on tap for the day. There was some very interesting fare on the menu, but to my disappointment there was not a single dog or cat hanging from a meat hook. There is still plenty of time I suppose.

The amazing thing that I've noticed already is the devout nature of Taiwan worship. There were three gorgeous temples within 100 yards of each other in one section of the city. At each temple there was a large, intricately carved roof with sloping angles and elaborate ornamentation. In front of the building there is usually a large bowl that is filled with burning incense sticks which anyone can light and place. Holding the sticks upright is the months, I'd guess, worth of ash from other incense which has piled up nicely. The photos cannot do the real thing any justice, but I tried to give some impression of the magnitude of detail represented at these buildings. Pillars of rock which are covered from top to bottom in battle scenes or dragons, ceilings which rival the Sistine Chapel for the ability to put a kink in your neck, and roof tops which are packed with so much adornment it's a wonder they don't cave in. I had the impression while standing in front of the most impressive statue I've ever gazed upon that a schizophrenic savant with a pound of psychedelic mushrooms could not come up with a more detailed and beautiful display. Truly a wonderful way to start a trip.

My first attempt at purchasing a food item went reasonably well. I pointed to a custard pastry, the girl behind the counter asked me something which I could not understand, I nodded in reply like a doe eyed mute, and the food was handed to me. All in all, a successful application of global economics on a micro scale. Further transactions have proved less fruitful however.

While walking around the market and gazing at the beautiful fruit which I had not known existed until that moment, I heard someone calling my name. The idea that someone in Taiwan would be calling my name momentarily blindsided me, and my mind was so flustered it briefly shut down while I was standing in the middle of a street. "I only knew one person in the whole damn country" I remember thinking, and sure enough, it was Ray. He was holding a few bags of food and gave me a polite handshake, mind you we were still standing in the middle of a road and people on scooters were scooting past us in every direction. He asked me how I was, if I had seen the temple, and then said he would pick me up outside a nearby building in about half an hour. I felt totally badass as I walked away from our handshake because I knew that everyone saw me and would assume that I was important because even other Taiwanese people want to stop and talk to me in the street. But then again, they all look at me like I'm an alien anyway so who knows what they were thinking.

All of that occurred before one o'clock in the afternoon. Truly mind boggling for me.

After the sun went down and it looked like I was going to need a place to stay, Ray drove me to a motel for the night. We pull into a grand archway that says "MOTEL" in neon across the top and I feel at home. Ray tells me as we're paying for the room that this place is popular for people who want to come to have sex. Yes, you read that correctly, he took me to a motel where people normally spend the night so they can get it on. I'm staying in a love shack. I asked whether they provided internet and he told me "They have no internet, not enough time." What he meant of course was that people coming here were not interested in the internet, they had other things to occupy their minds.

Throughout the compound of two story buildings which make up the motel, there is a P.A. system which was playing Beethoven. I found this to be a delightful way to greet people who are about to fornicate, take some notes Motel 6.

When we got to the room I was surprised to see that it was spacious and well furnished. The bathroom is actually pretty large and has both a tub and stand up shower which is unusual for Taiwan. The only way anyone who was not from here would have any impression that this was a love shack is the complimentary condom on the nightstand. Very classy.

The room is actually quite nice and I am writing this post while sitting on the bed right now. I have been here for two nights now and will stay here until Monday when I can hopefully move into my apartment. The only issue I've come across is that on the first night, at 2:40am, there was some sort of problem with a crazy woman outside my room. She was screaming at the top of her lungs off and on for over an hour. It sounded to me, with my 12 hours worth of Mandarin experience, like she had caught her husband with another woman. That or someone chopped one of her fingers off and dipped the bloody nub into a bucket of margarita salt, it could really go either way.

In the morning I thought about the experience and it made me laugh because it reminded me of the movie Big from the eighties when he has to sleep in the garbage pile of a hotel room for the first night and there's a fight going on outside and he curls up and whimpers to himself. The only difference was that I was cool as a cucumber and continued to sleep, because that's just the kind of guy I am. (For the record Tom Hanks is a pansy and probably wears women's underwear)

Well, that's about all I can think of for the moment. Other than to say that last night I bought a bottle of Brandy at the liquor store to celebrate my success and got mildly drunk while watching Sex and the City reruns on cable.

I'll write another post when I've got some more interesting things to say.