夜晚的時候所有的河水看起來美麗 (aka looking on the bright side)

A quick note before I begin here. I was on the MRT today and had to stifle a chuckle when I saw the look on an old man's face when a rather eclectically dressed young man walked by. Imagine a jaw drop mixed with eyes of pure bewilderment. I got a couple odd looks myself after being unable to contain the wide grin that spread across my face. Generational gaps know no cultural boundaries.

A couple weeks ago I finally made it back to 永和區, the district in 新北市 where Andrea and I lived during Taiwan, round one. There's a part of me that will remember living there fondly, but after a quick stroll around, I'm glad to have found a new home in 大同區. The main purpose of my visit to 永和 was to reconnect with our friends who run a Korean restaurant near our old apartment. After dinner and a visit I started making my way home. At first I figured I'd walk to 頂溪站 and take the MRT. However, after twenty minutes of walking along 中正路 and observing the new and the unchanged of the last fourteen months, I realized I wanted to keep going. Walking around Taipei at night has been a source of consistent joy for me, as the heat of the day has dissipated and the city is still a flurry of activity consisting of night markets, various forms of commerce, and the seemingly never ending stream of cars and scooters carrying passengers to their intended destinations.

I continued past 頂溪站 knowing that 中正橋 was not too much further down the way. This has been one of my favorite bridges to cross at night as it provides stunning views of Taipei, and the 新店溪 transforms from a river saturated with the runoff of the city (Portland people, think of the Willamette before the big pipe after a heavy rain on a cloudy day), to a weaving line of obsidian reflecting the lights of the city. I love it.

At this point I was thinking that I could cross the bridge and walk a little bit further to 古亭站 and take the MRT from there. It would be a good walk, and I'd still get home early enough to wind down and get to bed early so that I could wake up at 6am on a Sunday morning to go play tennis. These were my thoughts as I was crossing the bridge until I saw the riverfront path beckoning me from below. Taipei has miles of paths following the 淡水河, and it's tributaries like the 新店溪; they are especially welcoming at night as they are well lit and there is a steady stream of cyclists and pedestrians, people playing basketball and tennis, and friend and family gatherings well into the evening.

Oops. Somebody hit the pause button...

...for more than seven months. I started this way back in September. At the time I was awash in the euphoria of having recently returned to Taiwan. There were few moments I enjoyed more than walking along the river late into the evening. This memory still holds a special place, as I remember actively attempting to create a narrative as I walked, in the hopes that I would remember enough to eventually write it all down later on. One area in particular was set up as a few rows of benches that looked out onto the river. There were at least a dozen couples sitting there in different states of body language, conversation, and general engagement. There were the ones with bodies turned to face each other participating in active conversation. Others had bodies turned towards the river, but with heads facing each other as a dialogue waxed and waned, only to turn and face the river again. Then, there were those who sat next to each other, but said nothing; looking straight ahead at the river, the cityscape across the water, or looking, yet seeing nothing, with eyes and thoughts gazing inwards.

The ones who said nothing I found the most captivating. A couple of them were older and I found myself composing their story as I walked past: Perhaps they were so comfortable with each other, that nothing really needed to be said; their presence together was enough. Or, maybe a physical presence was all they had; that emotionally they had completely separated, and the claustrophobia of a quiet household got them out into the night air, but couldn't get them speaking. Who really knows? But that's why I found the quiet couples so intriguing. With a door so open to speculation, I found my mind racing to create my own version of their history.

Perhaps it feels that much more relevant when your life changes course; so it's important to:
Always look on the bright side...

Where to go from here...

I love this:

For the longest time I always thought I was trying to take the path of least resistance. It was maybe the path of least confrontation, because I think I was constantly mistaking opportunity for a challenge I was reluctant to pursue. Most of the time I just waited for the next thing to land at my feet as opposed to actively seeking a path that would provide the personal fulfillment (mostly professional) that has so far felt lacking. But then I would find myself here and have fleeting moments of inspiration and clarity:

The air is warm, the sky is blue (and all the leaves are green), a vast urban landscape is laid out in a multitude of buildings, people, and experiences. It's moments like these where everything feels tangible and I want to grab hold of this moment and embrace it as a living object. Because maybe this time I won't allow myself to get too comfortable with whatever status quo I've established for myself. Maybe if I can hold this feeling and moment long enough I will try harder in life. But it's not something I can physically hold onto. I have my brief moment of clarity where I make grand declarations to myself that I know I won't follow through on. But maybe one small thing sticks, and if enough things stick over time, eventually things might change.

Life is fascinating. Going places, experiencing people, letting nature take your breath away. The best moments never feel long enough, and looking back feel even shorter. Some of the best I can remember like yesterday, and some have to be conjured from the recesses of memory by stories told by friends. Having entered an entirely new stage of life makes me want to embrace these memories that much more. To me, they are the most important currency. At this point they feel like the best kind of savings that I have, making them that much more precious to hold onto.

我買了兩本書/Moby Dick

Between work and home I spend too much time in front of the computer. Sometimes I don't even know what it is I'm trying to find. I'm just looking for any random thing to keep me occupied, and it's one of those habits that I would like to remedy. Because of this, I have no reservations about being a smart phone hold out, as the last thing I need is another reason to stare at a screen.

As a solution, I decided to brave the rainy weather and go to a book store yesterday to find something good to read. My initial goal was tracking down A Dance with Dragons (update: found it, read it, it was awesome. Now I have to wait who knows how long for the next one), book five in the A Song of Ice and Fire series. I wanted to find it used and so my first stop was Whose Books near the 公館 MRT station. A couple different blogs recommended this store as having the best used English book section in Taipei. Turns out it wasn't big enough to fill half an aisle at Powell's Books.

I did not find my intended purchase.

My next best chance was the much larger book store across the street. As far as finding my initial book choice it was a bust, but they did have a decent selection of HarperCollins classics on the cheap. After perusing my options I decided upon Moby Dick and Fitzgerald's The Beautiful and the Damned, both of which I've never read. For some reason the clerk decided to give me a discount even though I said I wasn't a student (it's near 台灣大學, so students get a discount), and so I walked away with my two new books for $8. Sweet.

I was also hungry and really wanted a burger, so with my purchases in hand I walked off in pursuit of California Grill on 永康街 (a touristy street with abundant restaurants, tea shops, and other shopping opportunities), a little burger place that Andrea and I went to a couple times previously. I thought I knew where it was and after a futile hour or so of trying to track it down, went into a random place that had what looked like Spanish and African cuisine inspired sandwiches. I placed my order and started reading Moby Dick. By the second page I was already hooked, but a passage on page four really struck me with how little things have changed within the human condition since the book was published in 1851:

"Who ain't a slave? Tell me that. Well, then. however the old sea-captains may order me about--however they thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it is all right; that everybody else is one way or other served in much the same way--either in a physical or metaphysical point of view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all hands should rub each other's shoulder-blades, and be content."

Damn, if that isn't powerful. I made a good choice.

Of all the days to not have a camera...

As many of you already know, Andrea is currently in China advancing her knowledge of Chinese medicine. Perhaps unknown is that we currently only have one camera and it is currently in her possession. This is OK as I had the camera for the first several weeks I was in Taipei and was able to take a lot of pictures. What is unfortunate is that today is definitely a day that I wished I had a camera (this is an exaggerated misfortune. I'll have other opportunities to take the necessary pictures in the future).

I have now been in Taipei for over two months, and while I'm embarrassed to say it, today was actually the first time that I left the house with absolutely zero agenda about my final destination. I've done bits of wandering here and there, but it usually was tied to some eventual goal. Wait a second. Even leaving the house without an agenda is technically an agenda. It's just a little less specific.

"I will leave the house with no destination. I will just walk."

Sounds like an agenda to me. With a liberal bias I might add.

Since I have been in Taipei, I have been relatively content with my walk to the MRT station, to work, and back. So today, I walked down a street I had never walked, looked down alleys I have yet to walk, crossed a bridge I had never crossed and found myself in what was for me, uncharted territory. What was interesting about this uncharted territory, is that as soon as I crossed the bridge, I found myself back on the street that passes right by my apartment (Zhongzheng, which is also another name for Chiang Kai-Shek) and crosses a different bridge. I decided to walk down this street and see where it lead.

Well, it lead past a lot of businesses, and a park, and buildings, and then it ended. I hadn't anticipated walking this major road to its eventual conclusion, though I have to admit there is something satisfying about it. I had noticed early on that it did lead toward some rather attractive looking forested hills, and so I wasn't disappointed when I reached its end.

For those unaware of Taipei's geography, a brief word. Taipei is a vast metropolis that has gradually absorbed surrounding towns and is composed of the original city and New Taipei (the surrounding areas that make up Taipei County). If you are viewing this area from higher ground, it looks like an almost endless urban landscape surrounded by mountains. This is actually one of Taipei's most charming attributes. No matter where you are, if you want to get into a little bit of nature, it's really not that far away.

So once I reached the end of Zhongzheng Rd, I found myself at the foot of what looked like a rather impressive hill (mountain). I wanted to climb up that mountain but was not sure if there was a good route to take. I made a couple attempts by going up a couple of Taipei's seemingly infinite alleys, but was thwarted both times. Eventually I just decided to walk down the major street parallel to the mountain to see what would happen. At first, not much. But right as I was about to give up, I discovered the entrance to a little hiking trail that ended up being less of a trail, and more of a stair master. Really, it was just a bunch of stairs. A bunch of stairs that took you up almost 2000 feet in elevation in about a mile.

Taipei is a city of contrasts. This is exemplified by tall, new buildings next to building that look like they could have been torn down years ago. These same old buildings are also interspersed in the most luxurious shopping areas you can imagine. The view I find at the top of my short and steep hike was also one of contrasts.

If I looked one way, I had an amazing view of the seemingly endless urban sprawl that makes up Taipei and New Taipei. It's not a bad view. I have long been a fan of big cities, and there is something awe inspiring about all the pieces that must come together to make a large city work.

However, looking the other way was truly breath taking. Before I came to Taiwan, the non-urban image of SE Asia that I had composed from movies and pictures was one of layered, rolling mountains shrouded in mist and mystery. This was my other view, and what was amazing about it was that all I had to do was look left rather than right. I had my layered, rolling mountains covered with a thick green forest; what looked like tea fields; and the ethereal haze that added something extra to the whole panorama.

After making my way back down the trail of stairs, I made my way to the riverside bike and pedestrian trail that I had also yet to explore. This further added to my joy of Taiwan's natural beauty (and dismay of not having a camera) as I was treated to the sun setting behind forested hills with the small batches of clouds lit up with colors of pink, red and orange and the sun's rays reflecting on the river.

As I walked down the riverside trail the view of the river was eventually obscured by tall reeds, though every once in awhile you'd get a glimpse of a little garden that someone had made after making a small path through the reeds.

Have I mentioned that I really like Taiwan?

My day in pictures...

Breakfast: Rice crackers with peanut butter and jelly. Cereal has recently taken it's place. But I meant to post this a long time ago.












Perhaps a cup of tea to go with it. This is a chrysanthemum pu er tea, and it is amazing. It is also super cheap. A box of 40 tea bags is around $4.















Now it's time to go down the apartment stairs, and off to work...














...through the alley outside my apartment...

















...down De He Rd...














...through the park...













...past the library...













...to Yongan Market MRT station...















...onto the MRT...













...down Minsheng West Rd (not a lot is open at this time of day, though there are a lot of breakfast places)...



















..."Good morning, Steve!"...













..."Good morning everybody! Lovely to see you all today."...














...and then I have a seat at my desk. I don't actually teach,
I just watch videos about teaching...












...OK, that's not true. Here we are in the clothes store scenario...











...and now it's time for lunch. I never thought I'd eat school lunch, and yet here I am. It's actually not half bad, though I decided to pursue lunch options outside the school for the month of October (if you want school lunch you have to pay for the month in advance. It's pretty cheap, maybe $25 or so for the month).






After some more teaching it is back to the MRT to start the journey home...













...down Zhongzheng Rd...













...through the produce stand...













...back into the alley...























...back up the stairs...
















...and then a little dinner. Tonight's selection is an egg, tofu, kimchei mishmash. Yumm!















Anti-climactic? Perhaps. Thoroughly enjoyable? Most definitely. Good night!

And a month has now passed...

...since I first left Portland and I sometimes feel as if I'm still waiting for the full gravity of how far I am away from home to hit me. My other thought is that maybe it already has, and it wasn't as climactic as what I initially anticipated. I think it is easy to sometimes confuse what you think you should feel with what you actually do. Bleh, this is not the venue for going into a stream of conscience ramble about the complexity of emotional thought (well, it would have been a ramble if I had kept typing the last five minutes of what was going on through my brain, but I'm keeping the babble filter on while writing about my time in Taiwan).

Well, now that it's taken me twenty minutes to write a short paragraph about my self-assumed subdued emotional reaction to a new environment, I suppose I will move on. But first let us pause for a moment of inspiration:



Taipei is amazing. I feel incredibly lucky to be here, and that is further accentuated by my getting to work in what has so far been (and by so far, I'm not assuming it will change, it's just a reflection on things so far) a very positive and supportive environment to teach in. The last two weeks were the first in which I had a regular teaching schedule and was really able to start interacting with students and get a feel for what their English speaking level is, and if the lessons I had prepared would be effective.

Before I go too far into talking about the teaching itself, I should probably give a little background about my school. Penglai is a public elementary school that is in its third year of having foreign teachers as part of its English Wonderland. There are six teachers that teach as part of this program, three foreign teachers (Me, Dan, and Willem), and three from Taiwan (Renee, Minhsien, and Linda). Of us six, Minhsien is the only teacher to have been at Penglai for all three years of the English Wonderland program.

While we do teach regular lessons, the thing that sets Penglai apart from almost all other schools in Taipei, is the scenario center on the top floor of the school. The goal (or my interpretation anyway) of Penglai's English language program is to give students exposure to real world scenarios and give them the vocabulary and potential dialogue necessary to interact in English in one of these scenarios (such as a restaurant, clothes store, airport, etc.). Each class is split into two forty minute periods, with a short break in between. I can't make a sweeping generalization about what my overall teaching style is going to be, but so far I have been using the first period to focus on vocab and introduce the dialogue in the regular classrooms set aside for us,



and have been using the second period to try and get the students into the scenario center (below is the clothes store).



I have been very impressed with the students' participation in acting out the scenarios with each other and being willing to volunteer (I use that term loosely, as I am more than willing to volunteer students if necessary) to perform in front of their peers. I am fully aware of how difficult learning a second language is, and their engagement in the lessons so far has been very encouraging. Penglai's English program is a cyclical process, and students spend four weeks on a scenario, and then move onto the next one. I keep teaching the same scenarios to the same grade levels, but I will be working with different students throughout the semester.

Everything is still very new, and I find myself frequently updating my lesson as I try them in the classroom and see what works and what doesn't. After a summer of not working with kids, it's definitely been a re-learning process in establishing classroom management strategies and trying to make my lesson both fun and informative. Luckily, I have a whole school year to keep improving. Oh yeah, and thank you PowerPoint for helping me create visually effective vocabulary lessons.

Other highlights of my time in Taipei over the last couple of weeks have included seeing temples:





Getting out of the city proper:





and exploring relics of a country's complex colonial history:



This last month has been a very positive start, and it only leaves me looking forward to the rest of the year ahead, and what may lay beyond it...

So here it is, the beginning of my Taipei teaching adventure. I didn't think I'd be able to get started on this so quickly, but my first afternoon thunderstorm is upon us, and I'm relegated to hanging in my room looking for apartments and perusing maps of the city and subway lines so that it will be easier to get around when I actually have time to explore. I arrived late Saturday night, and will be starting work Monday morning. Not much time get my bearings, and my home for the first week will likely be the hostel that I'm staying in tonight. I figured it would be fitting to include a few images of my journey here to get things going:



Half of our reason for being airborne.


















Logging roads and clear cuts. I had never seen anything quite like this before.















My first solid view of China's mainland while flying into Hong Kong. My flight was an hour late taking off from Vancouver, B.C., and so I missed my connection and had to take a later flight. Twenty plus hour flights are great.








Closing in on Hong Kong at Sunset. Flying west was interesting as it seemed like we were perpetually chasing the sunset. My flight left Vancouver at four in the afternoon on Friday and it was light for our entire 12-13 hour flight, only to be landing at sunset on Saturday night.









Inside the Hong Kong airport.




















I have never seen so many scooters in my entire life. There are rows of them everywhere, and every stop light has groups of them lining up while waiting for the light to change. Watching them navigate traffic was a tad perplexing and I don't think I am in any hurry to get one of these for myself.











Lastly, here is a little footage of my first of what I am sure will be many afternoon thunderstorms during the monsoon season (which runs from March to October).