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.

This Blog Post Will Remain Untitled, Due to Lack of Creativity

A couple weekends ago, we ventured over to Taipei. 

Via railroad.

(Kendra is such a picture-taking doll.)

We shopped (the elusive Chambray Top was discovered and PURCHASED), we wandered, we bonded, we had picnics.

We had Indian food here, too:

Taipei 101: the island's own Eiffel Tower.

Except 101 has the added bonus of a food court in the basement, and high end brand name stores I can only lust after on the two floors above. 

Plus, the fact that the 101 was advertising Cartier kind of tickled me pink. (Guess what famous diamond brand has a headquarters just a few blocks away from here? That's right.)

This made me happy, too.

 

 

These girls are some of my favorites:

(I always want Kendra to take the pictures, because she has this totally legit camera--a big black one with the long lens thingy--that makes an awesome "clicking" noise when you push the button. It makes me want one, so I can carry it around while wearing a mustard cardigan, a striped scarf, and square glasses to make people think I'm a legit hipster.)

The next day, we had a picnic here:

 

Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall.

It's a memorial. For Chiang Kai-shek, a military leader of 20th century China. (That's all Wikipedia would tell me straight off of the Google page.)

It was Sunday, so there were quite a few other people there, as well.

 

"Kendra, Kendra! Lemme see the picture you just took, lemme see the picture you just took!"

It was fun being in Taipei; because it's kind of a famous city. You know, Taiwan's capital, and all. People tour there, and stuff. I live in Fengyuan, which--plenty of people remind me--is a rather small town. So, being white, we get looked at a lot in Fengyuan. Because there aren't many people touring in a small town. 

 But in Taipei, there are definitely more foreigners around. It's always fun to see a blonde head, or a tall old white guy, at the train station, or at the memorial hall where you had a picnic. My initial reaction when seeing a fellow white person is, "Oh, look, a foreigner! How cute, there's a group of them touring. Look at them, with their strollers and their cameras. Well, I'm no tourist. I live here. So there. I'm cooler." 

But I bet you can guess what they're thinking when they see me: "Hey cool! Another white person who decided to take a vacation to Taiwan! I wonder how long she's been here? Probably not very long. Well, I've been here a week already. So there. I'm cooler." 

Mostly it's funny, because human beings just think like that. 

But really. I'm cooler.

Awkward.

That awkward moment when:

-You're not sure whether the red spot on your face is an incoming zit, or an outgoing mosquito bite. 

- That stagnant water smell wafts up your nose during your shower, and you're not sure if it's from the open window, or the shower water you're currently bathing in. 
 

-You get your picture taken through the window of a bus, 'cause you're white.

-You pay 7 bucks for a gallon of questionably hydrogonized/pasteurized milk.  

- Chinglish tees excite you.

-You forget your grocery bag when you go to the store, so you stuff everything but the milk and frozen onion pancakes into your purse, and try to maintain a sense of dignity as you walk out. 

- You find yourself humming the catchy jingle that garbage trucks blast out to announce their upcoming approach.

- The 7-11 workers know you.

- The Taiwanese woman behind you in line is pushing her 7 year old daughter toward you, telling her to "Speak! Speak! English, English!"

- You accidentally bike into the recycling frenzy frequented by senior citizens on a street corner.

- A random grocery store employee gets really close to your face, says "You so beautiful," in English, and then proceeds to spout out a current of excited Chinese, to which all you can do is smile and look confused until they beam at you, nod enthusiastically, and walk away.

#sillyamericanlivingintaiwan

 

Day Four.

GUYS.

Some awesome things happened today.

This happened:

My tutoring student (a fashionable, forty-something mother of another student of mine) knows that I LOVE WITH MY WHOLE SOUL anything to do with my outward appearance; so today, at the beginning of our tutoring session, she breezed in with this glorious thing in her hand. 

FOR ME.

It's a thing of beauty.

(Every week, we talk about clothes, and shoes, and makeup, and nails. Best class time EVER.)

And then, THIS HAPPENED:

Sorry the picture is a little grainy; I couldn't focus the camera in all my excitement to gobble this down. SO YUMMY.

This may not look as chocolatey and delicious as it WAS, but let me tell you, it was the most amazing microwavable, chocolate, SUGAR-FREE cake on the history of this planet. I found this fabulous blog that has all sorts of amazing, healthy dessert recipes with WONDERFUL sugar free options! This moist little morsel was rich, warm, gooey, and FULL of (sugar free) chocolate. I'll be making this again real soon, FOR SURESIES.

This next month looks like it's going to go faster than anticipated.

PS: I told one of my students today that I was going off of sugar for an entire month, and she got this look of absolute horror on her face, as if I told her I had just murdered somebody (seriously, her eyes widened, her job dropped, and her eyebrows furrowed), and asked, "WHY?"

My gosh, these kids are awesome.

The Sweeping.

A holiday is coming up. Some people strike preemptively by celebrating it early and beating the rush.

    TOMB SWEEPING.

That is a grave. A tomb, if you will. Two can fit in there nice and cozy.

That is a cemetery. Filled with lots of tombs.

And this is how you tomb sweep:

 Step 1: You sweep. Make sure the area around the actual tomb is nice and clean. There are no caretakers for cemeteries over here; it's all up to living relatives to keep the dead ones looking pretty. So the first step is to make sure there are no unsightly twigs or clumps of dirt around.

Step 2: You re-cover the top of the grave. With egg shells and colored paper (what my cousins are doing in the picture above). There may have been a particular reason for egg shells and colored paper at some point, but that kinda got lost in the shuffle. So just do it, because it's respectful, okay? 

Step 3: You place newspaper in front of the tomb, and in front of the statues of the Gods that protect the tomb, in preparation for food and money offerings.

Step 4: You place food on the newspaper as an offering to your ancestors. You wait until the "essence" of the food has been accepted (you know this through consulting the special "joss sticks" you brought with you). 

Step 5: You burn certified fake paper money, so your ancestors will have something to spend up in Heaven.

Step 6: You eat the food you just offered. It's okay, because the essence of the food has already been eaten by your ancestors, remember? So don't even worry about it.

Repeat, if necessary. (Like, maybe you have more than just one dead ancestor.)

The idea of respecting those that came before you (or those that left before you) in this way makes me think I would like to show a similar respect for my deceased loved ones when I come back. We have a holiday like this too, you know. Except, I can't remember the last time I visited the graves of my ancestors on Memorial Day. Egg shells and colored paper aren't necessary for me, I believe, but it's through my ancestor's choices and decisions that I can enjoy the life I'm living now. I think that deserves something, don't you?

Tomb Sweeping isn't the only thing that's been happening around here. We've been having more familiar fun, as well.

(Thanks, Kendra, for taking those two pictures!)

∏ Day was a great success. 

And I've made a pact. 

For a solid 30 (THIRTY!) days, no refined sugar is going to pass my lips, in any way, shape, or form. 

That's right. I'm going to do it, dangit, just to say I can.

How can I give up things like that down there, you ask? 

That is a good question. But it's only a month, and besides, I can still eat these!

And trust me, they're delicious.