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.

To lift their voice/龍山寺

One of my goals since I've arrived in Taipei is to go on a walk everyday. Today's goal was to walk from my apartment to 龍山寺 without checking any maps or planning any sort of route beforehand. This is roughly the route I took, which include a stop at 青山宮, a temple that Danny Ohlsen, Andrea, and I visited during his visit, and I ended up encountering again somewhat by accident.

從我家去龍山寺 (be sure to click on including the map)

龍山寺 is one of the oldest temples in Taiwan, having originally been built in 1738. It is also one of the most touristy, and with good reason; it is amazing.

There are usually a lot of people there, but today I was surprised with something entirely unexpected. It was more crowded than usual, and a large number of people had songbooks in their hands and were singing in unison with a lone hand drum, and maybe a cymbal keeping the beat. A song would finish, and then a voice would pierce the break in the chorus and identify the new song and melody that was to begin. After the one solo line, the collective whole would begin again with an awe inspiring cohesiveness. It was so unexpected and sounded so uplifting that for a moment I felt tears well up in my eyes. I did a loop around the temple soaking it all in. As I did this I noticed something. I would walk by various people and at times observed just how off key some of them sounded. However, I'd take a couple more steps, and they would blend into the harmonious whole.

It serves as a reminder that it's so easy to point out individual faults, whether self-reflective, or pointing the finger elsewhere. Yet a community working together can quickly compensate for individual imperfection and create something meaningful.

I know this is an obvious allegory to create from this experience, but it feels relevant because I have left my community. I've put myself back into an environment where I am definitely the "other." It's easy to get used to feeling anonymous in Portland as one of many tall, gangly, bearded dudes walking and biking around. However, throw those three adjectives on a foreigner in Taipei and the pool of eligible applicants shrinks exponentially. The result? Sometimes people stare. It can feel a little awkward, especially since I understand enough Chinese that after walking by people and then hearing them say something about the 外國 or the 白人, I know that they're talking about me. That's usually as far as I get though as far as understanding.

So then what is it about? Is it because I'm a tall, white guy? Have a beard? Both? Because I'm just so good looking? (joking) Because you feel annoyed that I'm here? Because you're wondering why I'm just sitting next to the river watching the sunset by myself?

This is not a complaint at all. I had some of the same thoughts during my first transition to living in Taipei, and I don't feel surprised that they've made a second appearance. The first time they went away and I imagine they will once again. To bring up my point from earlier, is that having left Portland, I no longer blend in. At this point, I am just a solo voice with all its imperfections, and thus feel as though I stick out like the proverbial sore thumb.

I did a poor job at creating a community the first time I was here, and so most events since I've arrived have been a solo exercise. I guess this brings me to my big point. I want to try harder to find good people, and build something meaningful with those around me. It also make me realize how quickly my year in Portland came and went, and how I dropped the ball on being more present before making another exit. So to friends and family I want to say that I love you all so much. Thank you for being you, and for being a part of my life. I miss you!

首兩個星期/找房子

Coming to Taiwan to work in a public school as a licensed teacher definitely has its perks: plane ticket reimbursement, paid vacation, being able to come on a resident visa (and thus not having to do visa runs, which I've heard about from other people and sound stressful). Then again, I come to Taiwan on a resident visa, which means I have 15 days to apply for my ARC card (basically an ID card that lets you come and go from Taiwan and verifies your legit status as a foreign resident; size of a driver's license), and to apply for my ARC card I have to have an apartment with a lease from a landlord. And so the apartment search began...

But before I fully get into that, I need to say that the first five days I was in Taiwan were amazing. Not because I did anything that exciting, but because I was back in Taiwan.

During my lunch break today I walked down to 大稻埕碼頭, a scenic park-like area down by the Danshui River, and while I was there began trying to figure out why I like Taiwan so much. The first year I was in Taiwan, 大稻埕碼頭 was under a lot of construction and wasn't really all that great. The bike path was closed and there were some relatively unattractive sheets of green fencing blocking off the parts of the park that they were working on.

Bringing things back into the present; the work there was done and what I saw this time was an entirely different experience. Everything looked new: new tennis courts, basketball courts, shaded benches with a nice view of the river, a nicely paved bike path, the mountains/hills around Taipei in the near distance, etc. I rested my arms on the railing and looked at the river and thought: "this is nice." Then I started making some inevitable Portland comparisons.

Portland has some nice walkways along the river; Portland is surrounded by nice looking hills/mountains; Portland has better food; better beer; cleaner air; come on now, why did you have to leave, what really makes Taipei or Taiwan that much better? Why are you here?

The answer actually came to me pretty quickly: quiet. 

Taipei proper is smaller than Portland by about a quarter, with more than four times as many people. At any given stoplight during rush hour there is an insane build up of cars and scooters; you always have to be on the lookout to make sure some random taxi driver or scooter isn't going to run you over. There are people everywhere. It can be loud. But I'm not talking about external quiet.

The voyage into adulthood has not been without its hiccups. Really, I've always felt a little behind the curve. Late to finish college, aimless at times, restless, bouncing around; what does my place in the world look like? Teaching; yeah that sounds good. I'll be a teacher; or will I; substitute teach; that's ok for now; no, this actually sucks; remember when I really wanted to teach abroad? Oh, that thing I've wanted to do ever since 2003? Yeah, that thing. Now it's 2011, and it happened, you got to teach abroad, this is fucking rad. But maybe the timing wasn't right, and now you're back in Portland. My mind is screaming at me. What are you fucking doing? What the fuck is Inside Track? Is this the direction your life is heading?

So, remember when I said that this about my apartment search and my first two weeks in Taiwan. That's coming. However, a linear thinker I am not.

I mentioned those first five days in Taiwan. They were glorious. I put on headphones, soaked in my surroundings, took pictures, and walked with a subtle, yet perpetual, smile on my face.

And then I realized that I needed to find an apartment. Not applying for your ARC on time results in $75-350 fine, and while I was enjoying my time at the Taipei Fun House, because they are awesome and anyone that comes to visit or that ever goes to Taiwan should stay with them, I did need a place of my own.

So I looked, and looked, and looked...

At first I thought that living in a larger apartment with other people could be good. I would be able to live cheaply, have a big living space, kitchen, and maybe meet some cool people. Checking out one apartment in particular cured me of that idea. I walked in and saw my potential roommates and immediately thought: "living with people would actually suck." It wasn't them, it was me.

I started feeling a little stressed out.

I began looking for my own place. Predominately using the http://www.591.com.tw/ website to browse apartments. And so I browsed, a lot. I probably scanned close to 5000 apartments, clicked on at least 500 of those to learn more, and felt even remotely excited about exactly 1 of those. Yes, I was being picky. My last apartment was big and cheap. That should have been great. Unfortunately, it also had big spiders, big cockroaches, a big uncomfortable couch bench, big rats running around above us, mold, and felt isolated from a lot of the city. This time, I really wanted to picky. I wanted to be fucking stoked about where I was living, but still do that on a budget. I was really beginning to feel like a stuck up and privileged asshole; the antithesis of my ideal self living abroad; or my ideal self in general; who even knows. 

This last weekend (8/31-9/1) brought both serious doubts about my return to Taiwan and a fortunate turn of events.

As the stress of the apartment search, and my expectations around it began to build, the first five days of elation sank into a distant memory. My questioning of one thing resulted in a questioning of all things. Here I am, away from friends, family, my wife, trying to build what? What the fuck are you doing? Why are you here? What is the point of this? What are you working towards? Yeah, not so quiet.

And then things worked out. My former co-worker Dan (apparently the golden child of foreign teachers living in Taiwan, no joke) connected me to his former landlord (who loved him and said to me "Dan 比你說中文好"), who had a place that I didn't want because it had no cooking capability. However, because I was Dan's friend, she decided to connect me to her friend, who happened to have a place less than a ten minute walk away from my school. Of course, she also loves Dan. 

But she liked me too, and now I have my little apartment box, and I love it. Ten minutes to walk to work. Five minutes to walk to 迪化街, or down to the river. Pretty much in the middle of everything. I definitely feel pretty lucky with how things turned out.

I got my rental contract, applied for my ARC, got my bank account, got some money in the bank, and then...quiet. The noise that began to build had been superficial. It was part of a transition to returning to a new country and trying to get settled. I had begun to feel frustrated about the apartment search, and panic about not getting situated within the required time frame, but I realized that I had never questioned my place here, just become impatient with the process. Now that the transition processes are complete, most of the calm and contentment has returned, and now classes start next week.

Pictures:

 Doctor says i need a backiotomy.

新開始

I wrote this in a notepad at about 5am on the bus ride from 桃園國際機場 to 台北車站. I am throwing it on here without any changes.

8/19
Just got on the bus to head to Main Station. There was so much build up both internally and externally to being here that it was hard to know what I would actually feel to be back. I feel great! I usually don't do well with build up. I feel it usually leads to unrealistic expectations and I've always preferred to just experience things as I go.

In regards to experiences, I feel so lucky to have a second opportunity to teach in Taiwan. The first time around was not without its hiccups and missed opportunities. I was so sure the first time around that I would be in Taiwan a second year that I frequently allowed myself to put things off or venture into uncharted (for me) territories on my own.

I'm going to be here for 5 months on my own, so it is up to me to take chances on new experiences and be more willing to make mistakes with my Chinese and be happy with my efforts.

The first time in Taiwan I felt unsure of what I wanted the experience to be, I just knew I wanted to have it. Having a year to reflect on my experience before coming back has given me a sense of appreciation, motivation, and excitement that may not have been there otherwise.

To Andrea I can only give my sincerest thanks for supporting me in the decision to come back. Our time apart is not going to be easy, but I am so grateful to have a wife that encourages me to follow my dreams, and I just love you so much!!

And with that, the blog is resurrected. I still haven't figured out exactly how I want to use it, or what I want it to be, but I imagine I will figure it out as a go along. Disclaimer: I will sometimes use bad language. To quote one of my favorite authors: so it goes.

Cheers.

On trying to learn Chinese...part 2...

What a difference a few months can make. I was just looking at my original post about learning Chinese and I feel like my relationship with the language has completely changed. To that end, I would like to extend credit to the two people who have made the biggest difference. The first would be my Chinese tutor Patrick (his English name, of course, come to think of it, I don't actually know his Chinese name, dammit), and the other would be my wonderfully ambitious wife. The first wouldn't exist as a part of our lives without the prodding enthusiasm of the other, so to that, I say "謝謝, Andrea!"

Back in November, Andrea had barely made it back from her trip to Chengdu, and pretty much the first point of order was how we needed to find a tutor and really begin working on learning Chinese. By this point, I had already been in Taiwan for three months, and my DIY learning ambitions had yielded little in the way of results.  So after a "Tutor Wanted" post on the very useful Tealit website and a couple emails later, we were off to a nearby coffee shop to begin the first real step towards learning Chinese.

The last time I began learning a new language was middle school, and it's funny to think how my goals with learning a language have changed between now and then. When a mere 13 years old, figuring out how to swear in another language brings all sorts of excitement; indeed the joy of learning how to be proficiently profane in a non-English vernacular carried well into my European adventure oh so long ago. These days, however, I'm more concerned with learning key phrases for classroom management and how to ask where the nearest Thai restaurant is.

Though I am happy with the progress I am making, I feel like every new door I open into an understanding of the language drops me off into a hallway with ten more doors that I have yet to explore. It feels like an enormous task, and I am lucky to have Andrea preventing me from slipping into my often procrastinating habits. I have also discovered that I really love writing Chinese characters. I am pretty sure that character writing is going to be the motivating factor in pushing myself to learn Chinese. There have already been several days where I've found myself content to spend a morning writing the same characters over and over again, trying to make sure I get the stroke order correct (yes, each character has a recommended stroke order to maximize writing efficiency), and making it look as close to the book example as possible. I am not an artist in any sense of the word, so practicing character writing is a good exercise in feeling like I can draw something that actually looks interesting. Here is the end result of one of my practice sessions:

 

Any sort of real comfort listening to and speaking Chinese is still a ways off, but with our current multi-tiered approach to learning, I feel really good about the direction our language acquisition is heading.

On trying to learn Chinese...

As many or most of you may know, Chinese (Mandarin) is a tonal language where words that look the same in Pinyin have completely different meanings depending on the tone you use. The easiest example is "ma." It can mean "horse" using one tone, "mom" using another, and I think it can also mean to scold someone. I've been using flashcards to learn Chinese characters, and each card has a phrase to showcase the use of the character. It's been a slow process but I am picking up on some Chinese and am able to recognize more and more characters all the time. I can't piece them together into anything coherent, but I'm working on it.

One thing that helps is having three native Chinese speakers in the English office. Good for me, but perhaps bad for them as I think I'm actually driving one of my co-workers, Linda, rather batty by practicing Chinese phrases on her in my terrible monotone, American dude trying to speak Chinese, accent. One of my other co-workers, Min-hsien, has spent a lot of time around foreigners and so she can understand what i'm trying to say pretty easily. Linda, however, just looks at me with an incredulous look that says "what the hell are you trying to say?" What makes things so difficult is the fact that when she repeats the correct pronunciation back to me, to my untrained ears, it really doesn't sound so different. This has also happened in a couple stores where I have actually asked for something in Chinese and they just give me a blank look. When I finally say it correct enough to understand, they repeat it back to me in what pretty much sounds like exactly what I just said. In response to this, I have learned the Chinese equivalent to "That's what I said."

"Na shi wo shuo de."

I'm sure I butchered that, but what more can you do when trying to learn a language? The tonal subtleties are definitely going to be the biggest mountain to climb in my Chinese language acquisition, but I've definitely been enjoying trying to learn it.

While it's going to be a long process, I guess when I can finally start passing the Linda test I'll know I'm on the right track. Wish me luck, because it is not going to be easy.

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).