Be as Simple and Well as Nature Ourselves

My Taiwan Besties were on their way out.

And so we went out with a bang. 

A big bang.

 

Toroko Gorge, Hualien, Taiwan

It's Niles Canyon, but with a bit of the Grand Canyon thrown into it here and there. Complete with rushing water, tree-covered cliffs, lakes, rivers, valleys, hikes, temples, waterfalls, and lots of buses full of tourists.

It's breathtaking.

It's the kind of 'breathtaking' where your mouth drops open and you hold your breath just to look. It's the kind of 'breathtaking' where gazing at it just isn't enough, you actually want to be a part of the beauty itself; you want to go in an explore what that beauty consists of. 

It's the kind of 'breathtaking' that just can't be captured on film, but you have to try, anyway.

We weren't your normal tourists in buses, either. Nope. We were legit. Traveling through those windy roads to the top of Toroko Gorge on scooters. 

Scoooooooooters!

That's right. 

And it was fantastic. 

Don't worry that I took pictures while straddling the backs of those whirring little things.

We spent two days there, exploring, riding, hiking, taking pictures, getting bitten by mosquitos, trying to find waterfalls, climbing lots of stairs, and not thinking of the separation that was inevitable. My four fabulous friends were leaving; their year in Taiwan was coming to a close. I was staying, they were leaving. 

We ignored that.

Toroko was really distracting.

We had some goals in mind, coming here: 

1) Climb a suspension bridge. 2) Hike to a waterfall and frolic.

The first goal we totally accomplished. With absolute flying colors, did we accomplish that first goal.

First rule of the suspension bridge: No wriggling. 

Second rule of the suspension bridge: Have a hiking permit. 

We followed the first rule. We tactfully overlooked the second.

The second goal we had, hiking to a waterfall and frolicking, started out pretty optimistically. We found the hike that promised a waterfall at the end. The sign at the entrance assured us that if we were in "moderately good shape," this shnazzy little nature walk would be a piece of cake. 

When we saw this, we questioned the use of the word 'moderately,' but pressed on, nonetheless.

That is, in fact, a 90 degree angled rock, in the middle of the hiking path. They were real thoughtful, and put some chains up there to help us, though.

It would have probably been useful to know Chinese, at this point.

But we did it, like champs.

Only to find, about ten minutes later, the rest of the hike--waterfall included--had been closed down, due to a rockfall. 

Well. Shucks. 

Down we went.

And found some other stuff to do. 

(It was probably a good thing the hike didn't work out, due to the fact that I was embarrassingly unprepared. I could just hear my father in my head: "Why are you wearing capris hiking? You shouldn't have done that. Why didn't you take bug spray? You always take bug spray. Never go hiking without a camel pack. I can't believe you went out there with no first aid kit. Don't wear those shoes. Wear hiking shoes." Man, I would have been in so much trouble.) 

Toroko was gorgeous. Beyond description. Incredible.

There was just so much water. It called to me. 

Next time, I'm wearing my swim suit.

It's Official. I Lived Here.

So guys. 

There's this bridge here. 

It's just for walking.

It goes over the train station, and you have to walk across it to get to the main entrance of the train station.

And the main bus station. 

So if you want to go anywhere besides Fengyuan, you cross this walking bridge. 

And on this walking bridge, there are locks. 

Like, padlocks.

Like, lots and lots of locks.

People just put them there. For lots of reasons, I suppose. (Most of them are in Chinese, you know. That hinders my understanding, a bit.) 

Some of them have been there for years and years, whereas others are totally, brand-spanking new. People have been locking a piece of themselves on this little walking bridge in Fengyuan, Taiwan, for who knows how long. 

So how could we pass it up? 

So, locks were found. And they were decorated.

And then, they were taken to the Walking Bridge. 

And there, I left a little piece of myself that will stay in Taiwan forever. 

So. I've made my mark. 

At least, I've made a mark that I can see, anyways. 

And I'm always a little excited to see my lock when I'm on my way out of Fengyuan. It just makes me happy.

Snow Days are for Wimps

Taiwan doesn't have Snow Days.

Most Taiwanese kids have never even seen snow, thank you very much. Except in pictures, and American movies.

Taiwanese kids know what rain is, though. Definitely, they know what rain is. Because it happens all the time. (We are on an island, after all.) Doesn't really matter what season the calendar says it is, the rain just kinda comes whenever it wants. 

And sometimes, it comes in big huge bursts.

With flooding, and stuff.

Those are typhoons.

I think typhoons are cool.

 

I probably think typhoons are cool for two reasons. 1) I'm ignorant. I've never lived in place where there are typhoons (except now), so the damage that can occur from them takes second place to just how beautiful the rain is as its fighting to get to the ground. 2) Typhoon Days = No school. 

For anyone. 

Which is awesome.

And we had a Typhoon Day. And it was awesome. Much more awesome than any Snow Day could have been, I'm sure of it. We woke up to rain, we lounged about to rain, we bonded to rain, we went to sleep to rain. 

Just looking through the window at the downpour was cleansing.

I loved it.

 Having a day free of teaching was definitely a perk, too.
But that's only a little bit of the reason why typhoons are just so cool.

Well, okay, maybe a big reason.

In the Blink of an Eye.

So.

Can you believe it's been 6 months already?
Me neither.
Being at the halfway point is both invigorating and depressing.
It's invigorating, because I'm halfway done. Can you imagine? 6 whole months already! It went by WAY too fast. I've done so many things, and made so many friends, and I can't wait to see what else can possibly happen while I'm here.
It's depressing, because I feel like I still know nothing. I know nothing about teaching, about Taiwan, about Chinese, about anything. Is there even any way I can learn all I want to and need to in the next six months? If I'm being optimistic, I would say there's a slight chance that 20% of the knowledge I want to gain will stick with me.
So, I'm just going to stick with optimism.

These next 6 months will fly by.
Dangit.

Paint with All the Colors of the Wind

Taiwan is awesome.

You wanna know why? 

Because they have places like this:

Right in the middle of a big city. 

That is a little "village." An old village, that was supposed to be torn down, like their next door neighbors:

Instead, these historic buildings were painted. Wild, flashy, insane colors that make up wild, flashy, insane pictures. EVERYWHERE. 

There is, however, one problem with this place.

It's a little hard to find. 

Even with the help of those who have been there before, three scooters, a good sense of direction, and Google maps, we still made quite a few U-turns. We even stopped to catch our breath and re-orient ourselves at one point when we hit an uncomfortably populated rural area. 

When we stopped, there were kids playing around outside that simply could not get enough of us. There were stares, giggles, and nudges directed in our general direction, and this is probably what was going on at their end:

First girl: *grabs arm* "Look look! Foreigners!

Second girl: "Oh my gosh, they're on scooters! Look at them!"

First girl: *elbow nudge* "Go talk to them. Their foreigners."

Second girl: "Your English is better than mine. You do it." 

First girl: "Ah, no! They're looking over here! Quick, look away!" *giggle*

Second girl: "You do it." 

First girl: "No, you do it."

Second girl: "You."

First girl: "You."

And so forth.

 Until we finish dinking around, decide on a general direction to try, and leave.

(Sometimes this conversation does end with one of the girls bravely coming up to one of us, saying, "Hello, nice to meet you!" And when we smile and reply, they run, giggling, back to their friends and form an excited huddle. Other times the stares, giggles, and elbow nudging just continue indefinitely.)

And then, we finally find The Painted City.

Victory. 

(That's one of the actual painters of the village, aptly named "Rainbow Grandpa." Which is amusing, because there are students at the school--students whom Kendra teaches (lower middle with the silver headband)--that call me "Raynebow Sister," and write stories about me, and my Rainbow brother, and Rainbow mother, and even my Rainbow granpda. So. You know. How could we not take a picture?) 

What a lovely way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

By The Sea Where There's No One Nosy

Here we are a-traveling.

Again.

Kaohsiung.
(Gow-shung)

With its beaches, and its mountains, and its university, and those big, giant, cement jacks that are on practically every coast around the island.

 

(Those jacks. I don't know why they're there. But they're everywhere. For stability, maybe? At least, that may have been what someone told me once.)

One of the things that my roommates, Kendra and Kaylee, were SUPE TOTES excited about, upon frolickin' through Kaoshiung was the *mexican restaurant* there. Now, being in Taiwan, good, authentic, savory, multi-flavored Mexican food doesn't really come around much. I'm not a fan of Mexican food, generally--besides, of course, quesedillas, which I can't seem to live without (and Cafe Rio salad, but seriously: is that legit Mexican food? I think not)--but being surrounded by unidentified pieces of meat and sauteed veggies can get a bit tiresome to a girl used to cultural diversity in her food. So I was hankerin' for some good Mexican. 

I ordered a burrito. Nice and safe. Who can mess up a burrito, really?

Well, boy. 

The rice? It's definitely yellow saffron rice.  Complete with tumeric, pepper, and cumin.

The cheese? It's definitely canned nacho cheese sauce. 

And as a garnish? Three raisins.

.... Definitely not the kind of Mexican food I'm used to. 

Mind you, it was quite the taste bud adventure, having Indian rice and American cheese sauce overtaking my Mexican burrito. Not that it was bad, exactly... 

But, I mean. Really.

Dessert was much more of a success:

Shaved ice HEAVEN. 

We couldn't decide what flavor we wanted dancing on the roofs of our mouths, so we picked the two most appealing: mango, and chocolate banana. These brilliant Taiwanese people shave their ice until it's so smooth it's almost ice cream, and then put sweetened condensed milk on top, and any other toppings that catch their fancy. Like mangoes, or bananas and chocolate.  

I almost forgot to take a picture, I was so excited to stuff this down my throat.

Dinner was followed by a stroll down the beach:

One of the most awesome things about this country are all the "don't do this for your safety" signs people pointedly ignore. This beach had a wall, multiple gates, and tons of frantic signs warning people not to swim, eat, fish, cross the gates, walk, take pictures, smile, or breathe.

I'm used to following authoritative signs.

But when in Rome, right?

 So we entered.

And had a blast.

Those jacks were CALLING MY NAME. I almost got stuck. And it was dark. Kendra was there to document it all.

Kaylee caught us unawares.

 

She planned this one, though.

The next day was BEACH DAY.

All Day Beach Day. 

Hooray, Hooray Beach Day.

Oh, Kendra! Those two photos up there are amazing!

So far, I have been to two types of beaches in Taiwan: Kenting, which has the most blue, clear, perfectly temperatured water I have ever encountered; and Kaoshiung, which has greenish, blueish, murky water nostalgically reminiscent of sunny Northern California. Which do I like better? Gosh, do I have to choose?

The water temperature was still perfect, by the way.

Beach Day was such a success, that this happened:

That's right. Pretty much like clockwork, at least twice a summer, I'll get burned to a crisp to the extent that moving is painful.

Did I put on sunscreen, you ask? No. 

Do I ever put on sunscreen, you ask? No. 

Am I a thoughtless, twenty-something-year-old that thinks skin cancer can't touch me, you ask? Well, maybe sorta.

But, ask me in two days--when I can fully move my arms again--if it was worth it.

I will have forgotten the lesson I learned.