The Taiwan Drift

I'm now Blogging at ChaseAndre.com, or, the 15th reason I miss Taiwan...

2009-12-05T21:10:00.000-08:00

The Drift Got a Makeover!

And it's now found its home at ChaseAndre.com

Newest Post:

14 Reasons I miss Taiwan
...and 5 Reasons I don't.
[click here]

If you'd like to continue following my Journey,
click here to subscribe to the new blog.
Find me on Twitter
or write me: thedrift [at] chaseandre [dot] com

California (Cell Phone Camera) Photo Reel

2009-09-25T16:46:00.000-07:00

After a year without a cell phone (a beautiful, unleashing experience, might I add), the first thing I did when I arrived home was head to my local Sprint store and activate the phone that's been in a closet this year.

It's been strange carrying it around, but one benefit (besides being able to tweet anywhere) is having a camera-on-demand again.

Here's a couple shots I've snagged over the last couple weeks (With Commentary!)

Photo #1: Chili Cheese FriesI'm fairly certain Ben, one of my life-long best friends, tried to kill me the first day we hung out. After an incredible welcome home meal at In'n'Out (which nearly did the deed in itself), Ben took me to a place called "The Hat" where we ordered something that could have been called "Death by Chili Cheese" and in fact, probably was.

This is only a taste of the American Food my American Friends are feeding me. What they don't realize... I don't think my stomach is American anymore...

Photo #2: Proof I exercise...some.

Living in the city was fun in its own right. But nothing beats a taste of nature. This is the less-than-natural trail behind our suburban track homes. I'm trying to keep up my walking, eventually graduating to running. My friend Yazz has been dragging me around the city lake every now and then. That helps.

Photo #4: Surf City, USA

What good is a trip home to California if you don't make it to the Beach? In theme with staying healthy, my dad, brother and I did a good 6 mile walk/run before enjoying the waves some. (Note to self: Going once does not equate to a healthy habit)

Photo #5: Front Seat Driver

Another activity I didn't do much of (at all) in Taiwan: Driving. But, I'm home now, and I've been doing the big-brotherly carpooling lately, picking up from school and dance and other activities. This time, I had company. (But she tends to bark out orders, so I made her sit in the back) (That's a lie)

Photo #6: California Sunset

And finally: I took this on a drive with Colin Biggers. Everything halted when we saw this sunset; conversation, car, time itself. Then I think we may have been honked at. Note the green light. Green means go, but that sunset meant stop and take in the moment.

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Other news:

I'm sure you know, but I've launched The Drift (1.5) over at www.chaseandre.com

come visit!

This week, I'll be featuring fellow bloggers in what I consider to be the Drifter Community. We're made up of a unique bunch, many of whom are doing some pretty cool stuff. If you're interested in displaying some art of yours (whatever the form may be) email me: thedrift(at)chaseandre(dot)com

Also, and of course, you can follow me on Twitter!

PS Drifter Community Member Kelvin over at Daretothinkdreamdo asked me to guest post! Check it out.

The Drift (1.5)

2009-09-20T23:52:00.002-07:00

I know it's Earthquake Day in Taiwan, today. So, in reverence for the event, I'm trying to avoid cheesy and inappropriate cliches like "earth shattering news" or "groundbreaking new blog" or the like.

But, I don't want to undermine my excitement for this next evolution in my blogging.

Will I continue to post here at the Taiwan Drift? Occasionally, and for a short period of time during this transition. Since the beginning, I knew that "The Taiwan Drift" will stay about my journey to Taiwan. It will follow me home only to the extent of transitioning from foreign to familiar.

But, I continue drifting. So I continue writing. And I hope you'll drift with me.

Tonight, I'm leaving on my next drifting adventure, and the only place you'll hear about it is on the new site. Because the real chaseandre.com is not finished, I've released a wordpress blog as a holding place until The (true) Drift is complete, thus the "1.5" bit.
So bear with me during the construction and transition phase.

Life is a Journey, and it's not always neat and organized and running as smoothly as can be. :)

But, without further ado, I nonetheless invite you to join me on
The Drift (1.5): www.ChaseAndre.com

Subscribe to The Drift 1.5

"This Day in History..."

2009-09-20T22:54:00.005-07:00

Though the effects remain, Typhoon Morakot passed through Taiwan over a month ago. The storm brought the worst flooding in over 50 years, and more than 500 lives were lost.

But ten years ago, today, Taiwan was rocked by an Earthquake registering 7.6 on the Richter Scale. Thousands were killed, and an estimated 100,000 left homeless. Throughout my year in Taiwan, this was brought up dozens of times. The tragedy, and the National heartache carried from the 9/21 earthquake is on scale with our 9/11 or Katrina.

One of the valuable lessons I learned while being submerged in another culture is to uncover the experiences that create common ground. As members of the human race, one experience that unites us all is heartbreak and tragedy. Though my students were young when this national disaster took place, we were able to share our experiences in the classroom and doing so brought us closer together as a class.

Learning that we're all human, and we're all in this thing-called-life together was a big lesson for me this past year. People are People. Burn away the cultural quirks and the difference in language, appearance or religion, and what you will have in front of you is a person. Really. A person just like you. In fact, so much like you they could be a member of your family.

And to me, many of them did become part of my family. Aligning myself with the troubles and hardships of the people around me - really understanding what the hurt they've been through, and sharing in that burden with them - has taught me what it is to be a member of this race called human-kind.

As my journey moves me from foreign to familiarity, I hope, and even pray, I never grow deaf to those with needs that I can meet. I hope I never grow so comfortable that I forget what it is to be displaced.

Though I'm far from my friends, and my family, in Taiwan, I know the lessons they've taught me have not left my side.

Photo Credit: here

Future Driftings...

2009-09-16T16:25:00.000-07:00

One year ago I drifted to Taiwan. Over the course of this year, I've intentionally sought ways to expand my view of the world. Some of it came by the default of living in another country and culture; and some of it because I continued to look outside myself and learn of life beyond my scope of vision.

This lead me to an organization called Faceless International. Though I've known about - and loved - their work for over a year now, I have never found a way to get involved. That is, until they announced their social justice campaign to India this winter. Faceless is teaming up with The Emancipation Network for an educational, hands-on trip to learn about the horrors of Modern Day Slavery. As I informed myself more of the reality of human trafficking and modern-day slavery, a weight settled over my heart to act. Signing up for the Faceless trip, I found a timely start.

What I love about Faceless and The Emancipation Network is that they enter the schools and communities where girls are at risk of being sold or bartered into the slave-trade, and teach the children how to support themselves so that slavery never becomes a viable option for the family to sustain itself. Both organizations are seeking change in a tangible matter. I look forward to joining Faceless in their self-declared mantra, by the words of Ghandi, "Be the change you wish to see in the world."

The cost for the trip is $3000, and I will only reach that goal with the help of those who feel able to support me. I have paid the $500 deposit, and $1250 is due at the end of this month, with another $1250 due at the beginning of December. I will be blogging of this new leg of my journey here at The Drift, and am thrilled to have your support as a reader. If you feel you could also support me financially - in any amount - please click on the paypal "donate" button below.

For those of you inside the US, Faceless International is a 501c3 and all donations are tax deductible. If you are looking for a tax deduction, or wish to keep your donation anonymous from me, click here.

Though my time in India will be much shorter than my time in Taiwan, I expect this trip to be another milestone in my Life Journey. Taiwan, I feel, laid the ground work for how I live the rest of my life. I desire to always be sensitive to the plight of others - in and out of my immediate scope of vision, and I hope to always realize I can do something about the injustice of this world.

Above all, I hope that my journey continues to inspire those who hear it. My heart's desire is to see humanity, as a whole, restored to something better, but I realize that must start with me: I realize I must be the Change I wish to see in the World.

And that's what I'm hoping to do. Life is a Journey, friends.

Like riding a bike...

2009-09-11T15:02:00.000-07:00

My first week in the States has rode on by. It's a strange feeling being back. Nothing's changed. Really. It's almost as if Taiwan was just a creepy forgotten episode of the Twilight Zone. And I'm back in Suburbia where the neat little boxes are lined up in rows, hedges clipped clean and SUVs parked on the driveways, hubcaps aglow. Reverse Culture Shock? Maybe.

I'm still readjusting to the sights and sounds. Yesterday, I met a friend at the mall for dinner (we had the Korean BBQ, I used my pocket chopstick set). Before arriving on Taiwan, a mere 53 weeks ago, I lived another life; 90% of it, in that mall. Not all of you, dear readers, know this about me, but allow me to air some dirty laundry: I used to be in management at a dual-gender fashion retail store.

I spent a lot of time in that mall. A lot of time. Most of my meals were spent in that same food court, breaks spent walking the halls. It was strange being back.

This week, I'm fixing up the car I left behind, and will soon be driving - for the first time in a year. Also, I went out and signed up for a cell phone plan. I cringed at the one more added expense, and the first time it vibrated in my pocket I clung to the ceiling fan like a cat in a Looney Tunes cartoon. But I guess now I can blog while driving up the 5-North.

It's weird for me to think I survived without these modern "necessities" for a year's time...but I did.

Undoubtedly, the highlight of my week was coming home to the Welcome-Home Party (that I planned...). After a full night's rest Saturday night, I woke up and spent my day with over 50 of my favorite friends and family. It was an incredible experience to see and be with the faces and people I've spent a year without. Our time was spent recapping our year and recounting our journeys.

From time to time, I would tell a story and someone would say "I remember reading about that," (all my best stories are on the Drift), and each time it warmed me all the same. It was encouraging to know these key strokes I'm sending into the abyss of cyberspace have been read and noted and remembered.

I've said it before, but the Drift has been crucial to the process of this Journey. I love that a community has formed here on this site, and I hope it continues.

That Sunday, I was able to extend the Drift's virtual-community to the "real world". Early on in my driftings, I came across a blog filled with pictures of an old stomping ground of mine. Being a lonely solitary expat in Taiwan, seeing familiar sights was comforting. A comment an email, and a year later, Don and I have still kept in touch.

I'm no stranger to meeting "online" friends "offline", but there's always that air of apprehension wondering if your perception of them will vary in 3D. This wasn't the case with Don. I felt as though I didn't so much hear him speak as I did read the words leaving his mouth. Talking to him was like reading the latest entry he's posted.

As we were bidding our farewells, he reached behind the front door for his shoes. Glancing at the unintelligible heap on the other side of the entry way, he said "I'm a man who lives off the beaten path," just as I was thinking, that's so like him. It was a great experience being able to make that connection and solidify what the Drift has been for me this year.

I'm looking forward to further reunions with my friends and loved ones - and on a deeper level than a 50-person-thick get-together.

Slowly, I'm starting to find my barrings again in my hometown. My equilibrium has settled as I've fought from leaning too far in any one direction. Balance is essential. It's as essential in re-entering a country as it is to riding a bike. But, as they say, old habits die hard. And though it's been awhile since I've rode around the streets of suburbia, I'm pretty sure it's all coming back to me now.

Drifting Home

2009-09-07T17:59:00.003-07:00

So, it's been a year. Likely, one of the most distinct, important and influential years I'll ever live. Through the Drift, I've been able to chronicle my journey, and create space to openly and honestly reflect in and through my time.

My appointed mantra "The Journey is the Destination" is one that could - and should - be continued even after one "Destination" is reached. And so, I keep writing. And reflecting. And, if anyone will join me, creating an open space - a community where people are safe to probe and question and examine life in a way that, I fear, far too few do.

So, while I won't be writing on an expat's trials and travails in a foreign land, I have a sneaking suspicion that many of the themes I found in my life in Taiwan. Just, you know, not so much the Taiwanese stuff...

The last week went by in a haze. Saying Goodbyes stretched out through Saturday, and I didn't finish packing until the moment it was time to leave. Friday night was a melancholy goodbye from the Neighborhood. After we all hung out one last time, I said my farewells, gave my hugs, and walked away from the others. It hit me how fast the goodbyes were. Like peeling off a band-aid, maybe? Honestly, it felt much more like a see you later than a goodbye. I hope that it was. When I made it to my house, I sat outside on a bench to absorb the night and reflect over the people and places I would miss.

Ten minutes in the brisk, post-midnight air slip passed me before I stirred from my spot. It seemed surreal that I would be leaving soon. That these places and routines that became so familiar - the same ones that were once so foreign - would soon dim to forgotten. I reflected on what I sought to learn. Goals I set for myself that I didn't achieve moved in and out of my mind as I pushed them away realizing their unimportance in the grand scheme of things. And the only goal I had left once again became burden enough to move me from my seat. In 16 hours, I would leave for the airport. I needed to pack.

But even after I climbed the four staircases to my room, my mind hadn't wandered from reflection. I wondered about my change in lifestyle, thinking, and habits. Would they stick? As I loaded up my carry-on, I allowed myself to dwell on my biggest fear: returning home the same person I was when I left.

Too much time had past, I told myself, I've learned too much to go back. But it wasn't until I reached out, instinctively, and grabbed a pen that my fears calmed. As I slipped the pen into my carry-on, I knew that this year could never be a waste. I had learned what I come to learn, and I would carry it with me wherever I drift to next.

Eat the Feet?

2009-09-03T06:36:00.002-07:00

With only two days left, I'm attempting to absorb my favorite part of Taiwan's culture - The People. Every day for the last couple weeks I've been out and about spending time with as many friends as I can. It's turned into the family joke, every day they ask "So where you going to night?" (Roughly translated..)

On Saturday, my friend Ring brought me to a part of town I'd yet to visit. Before we ventured down "Art Street" - much reminiscent of Laguna Beach... minus the beach... and the blonde hair - she told me "Every time I come here, I always get three things to eat."

The first was a Taiwanese Hamburger of sorts. No problems there.
The last was an iced desert. Delish.

But between those two tasty treats, she said, "Now we're going to have Ji-Jiao"

"What's Ji-Jiao?" I asked hesitant, as I translated it in my mind.

"Chicken Feet~!"

51 weeks in Taiwan, and I'd avoided this "delicacy" until then. Ring wouldn't take no for an answer, I knew, so I buckled down and tried to enjoy...

But she loves it! As do many Taiwanese...

(that's a toenail in her mouth, by the way)

I'm thankful I tried. But it's not going to become a dietary habit, by any means. If you must know, well, it tasted like chicken. Pun only slightly intended.

Here's my beef. Let's forget the mental image of what this chicken was stepping in when it was alive and cluckin', I'm not crazy about savagely eating meat off the bone (boneless buffalo wings, please), and I've been known to peel even my grapes of their skin. So, the idea of gnawing on some sagging loose ankle flesh is just less than appealing to me.

But I did it.

Frankly, I prefer the Stinky (fermented) Tofu.

Saying Goodbyes

2009-09-01T06:54:00.002-07:00

"He said We all will miss you," translated the Medicine Man's Wife.
"And I will really miss you all," I reciprocated back to them in Mandarin.

"I will not miss you." The Medicine Man stated flatly. His wife laughed.

"I miss no one. I visit them in my mind. If I miss them, it only causes trouble."

...and that was my goodbye from the Medicine Man. He asked me to write, and promised to learn how to use Skype, and said we could talk about life and writing and more of Buddha's Method. And I told him I was looking forward to it all.

I'm down to about 5 days until I leave this great island of Taiwan. My last week, as well as the next few days will be filled with goodbyes like this one.

The "20-Somethings" group at the church I attend here in Taichung threw me a surprise KTV party. I knew about the KTV, but I didn't know they planned for it to be a going-away party for me. If you know me well, you know I hate surprises. At the moment where everyone jumps out and yells "SURPRISE!" (this time, Poppers were also involved), my mind races and all at once I make sense of the clues that they were planning this. Simultaneously feeling frustrated about not picking up on the clues, I'm agitated by the fact anyone would put that much effort into something for me. I eventually get over it, though, and appreciate the gesture.

The group went a bit over the top with their gifts and a card that everyone signed. The front was illustrated by my translator, Ring:

That was a week ago, and tonight is the last time I will likely see many of them. The fact of the matter is, I will miss them, whether I tell my mind to do so or not. We say things like "I'll come back to Taiwan" or "You should come visit me in America" but we really don't know for sure. As is normally the case, the wisdom in the Medicine Man's words slowly sets in and I think I'm beginning to understand what he meant. Looking forward to the States, and not knowing when I'll visit the Island again, I'm focusing on the friendships I've formed here and the good times we've shared over the past year. I will miss this place, but I won't let that feeling of loss hinder me in moving forward in what's next.

What's next, you ask? There are a few projects brewing, and I'm excited to release them. For now, I need to pack, and get myself off this Island. 9.05.09...

Interview with a Former Expat

2009-08-29T02:45:00.003-07:00

Just two weeks before my sister visited, I met an American Girl about my age who was on the Island for an internship. She was living with my pastor, another American, who introduced us and asked if I'd show her around for a bit while she was here. Of course, I agreed. The thought of having another Foreigner to show the sites around town was quite fun.

It turns out Gabrielle and I share more in common besides being temporary-expats to Taiwan; not in the least is the fact that she is also from California. Beyond that, though, we share both a passion for travel (admittedly, she's much better at it than I), and a desire to give voice and face to the faceless.

We discussed life, and plans, and family, and God, and social justice issues, and the art that brings our attention to it, like the movies Crash and Blood Diamond and Hotel Rwanda.

She traveled with me by bus to my Mandarin class, and by bike to the school I teach at. We wound through the streets of Taichung not just discussing, but living life in a foreign land. At one point, we both hit our brakes hard, as a car cut through lanes from the left to make a right hand turn – a common practice in Taiwan.

“You get used to that sort of thing...” I said

“Well, T.I.T.” came her reply.

“Tit?”

“...This is Taiwan” She smiled, and laughed a bit.

“Oh.. right” I returned the smile, sheepishly, a step behind her “Blood Diamond” movie reference.

Recently, Gabby and I got back in touch, and I was once again reminded of her insight and love for life abroad. I wrote her and asked if I could “interview” her about her time here. To all our delight, she accepted.

So here it is:

Interview with
Gabrielle W.

Could you tell us what brought you to Taiwan? When were you there, and how long did you stay?

I came to Taiwan to do an internship for my last year of university. One of my professors recommended me to stay and intern with the Atkins, a missionary family on the island with an Adult English teaching ministry. I stayed for three weeks, between Western New Year and Chinese New Year.

Was the experience all that it promised to be? (How did you do on your internship project?)

Once I got there, I ended up doing a lot fewer actual work hours than I had originally thought. It all worked out, though. Overall, I was glad to be able to experience a variety of different EFL styles and settings. This included observing in a CRAM school, guest teaching an adult English class and attending a couple classes with…Chase Andre, who is an awesome EFL teacher and great at navigating bicycle routes through cut-throat, sidewalkless streets, by the way! In a nutshell, it was not what I expected, but it worked.

(You're too kind.) So, it's been half a year since you've been to Taiwan. What do you remember as being your biggest Cultural Surprise?

I’ve traveled to many places, but this was the first place I’ve been where I could not understand any of the signs or literature. It really is a shock to step into a world where reading is hardly an option. This really gave me a renewed empathy for ESL learners who come to the USA for the first time and are struggling to understand their environment. Also, for anyone with latino friends or family, the non-touchy-feeliness of Taiwanese culture can come as quite a surprise. I was expecting it to be this way, but I still found myself wanting to give people hugs and handshakes.

Wait—I take all that back—I experienced the highest form of culture shock, by far, in my mouth, when I tried the stinky tofu. I really wish I was super worldly and could say that I loved it, but my gag reflexes totally betrayed me on this one.

Briefly fill us in with what you've done since Taiwan, and what you plan to do next.

I graduated from university (yay!) and earned a TESOL/TEFL certificate. As soon as I save the funds, it’s Spain or bust! I’d like to do a lot of things in the long term, but next on the agenda is getting some TESOL experience.

You said you've traveled before. What countries have you been to? What was your favorite, and what felt the most "foreign"?

I’ve been to Mexico (just Baja CA), Panama, France (1 day layover), Israel, Botswana, South Africa, Zimbabwe, and of course, Taiwan. It is way too hard to pick a favorite. The world is a beautiful place and I am always falling in love with new faces, food, languages, and landmarks. Most foreign—you know, when you’ve got the travel bug, you feel most foreign in your good ol’ hometown.

Your list is pretty diverse, but, what is one common thread you've found in each culture - including your own.

Love. Different cultures and individuals have different manners of expressing it, so you may have to look closely. All you have to do is open your eyes, be receptive and someone nearly everywhere you go is bound to light up your heart. I’m not talking about romantic love; I mean hospitality, sacrifice, appreciation—a gift given from the heart, helping those in need—these things represent love to me.

(Fantastic answer. Awesome)

Why do you go out of your way to learn about and experience other cultures?

I’m addicted! When you learn about other people and how they see the world, chances are your worldview is going to change, too. International addicts aren’t comfortable with one pair of bifocals.

(Amen! haha)
If you had one piece of advice to someone (like me) who wants to travel as much as you have, what would it be?

Make it a priority. You may have to make material sacrifices to make it possible. Don’t go for the most expensive vacation trips. Go with a volunteer experience, an excursion, a study/work abroad program, or something like that. It will make it more reasonable cost-wise and, in my opinion, give you a richer experience.

And one last question: In one paragraph (3-5 Sentences, for the readers who aren't teaching English...), what does "The Journey is the Destination" mean to you?

I suppose it means that though we may have an idea of what we are working toward, we can’t just focus on the future because we will miss out on the present. Our lives aren’t like movies where we reach that one goal and then the sappy music plays and credits start rolling. It goes on and there are always multiple destinations we are headed toward, whether we are aware of them or not.

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Morakot Watch pt 3: Mud and Mess

2009-08-28T07:58:00.007-07:00

Winding through the small Taiwanese town, the narrow streets showed some signs of poverty, but hardly a hint of disaster. I was almost disappointed. Other than a toppled palm here and there, I could see no sign of Typhoon Morakot.

At the entrance to a bridge, our small blue truck was halted, then waved through by the military personal directing traffic. My Taiwanese driver spoke in Mandarin Chinese: "Do you know why we were invited through?" Before I could respond, he pointed at the school-bus yellow safety vest ad matching rainboots I was issued back at the relief center.

Immediately upon crossing the bridge, the roads changed from dry and dusty to wet and muddy. We stopped once so a lady could pick up her fallen scooter out of the thick muck. As the truck rolled further down the road, water rose higher than our hubcaps.

But at a week and a half after Morakot made landfall, the water in the streets was not directly from the sky. This was one of the mudslide sites. And the murky water filling the road gushed out from inside the homes of the residents lining the street.

Armed with shovels, brooms, and any other tool that might do the trick, the relief teams filed into the houses and workplaces and began pushing, scooping and sweeping the mud and water out of the building. In some places, mud as high as four feet coated the entire first floor of each home.

As time went on, I could see on the tired, loss of hope grow on the victim's faces. It's as if their strength recedes with the water leaving their houses; what's left, a mud-covered shell and the realization that this won't be going away any time soon.

For me, that was the hardest part about being down there. Knowing they were still surrounded by mud and water in their broken home. CNN has long since considered this "Breaking News" but it'll be their reality for months to come.

I applaud, though, the CCRA for the helped they offered. What a well-oiled machine! To be able to mobilize 200-500 volunteers every day, truly remarkable. Five days in PingTung was a great choice for me. I met some great people down there, and got to get my hands dirty and hopefully give back to Taiwan some of what it's given me over the past year.

Keep the Morakot Victims in your mind and prayers. It's still a mess down there, and will be some time until all is well in their life again. And may we look at what we have and what we consider necessary, and remember what truly matters most to us along this Journey's trail.

Morakot Watch pt 2: Help Needed, Community Answers

2009-08-15T04:28:00.005-07:00

Since my own personal run in with Nature's Forces, I've carried a special sympathy for Disaster Relief. Before I make my way to Morakot I wanted to update you all on where you can donate, if you feel so inclined.

Able to do this much better than I, Michael Turton, an expat-megablogger in Taiwan has compiled a thorough list of Global Aid and Taiwan Non-Profits determined to assist the displaced survivors of Morakot. You can find all of that information here.

A few Morakot Statistics:

Also, youtube footage of an incredible, devastating hotel collapse:

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It's encouraging to me, though, to watch communities stand together in support of their neighbors-in-need. At the moment, I'm writing from Retro Coffeehouse. The Stackers, one of my favorite acts to play locally, are hosting a benefit show here. All profits from drinks and door donated to relief funds. The Refuge has also joined forces with Michael Turton to accept cash and goods donations to transport to afflicted areas.

In times like this, things like government initiatives and corporate infrastructure, even social or religious differences, tend to matter a lot less. We remember what we have, and what it is to give. We rally around and remember we're all human beings and we all have needs wanting to be met. We act within the Golden Rule.

In other words, we do what we should.

But, despite the tragedy, it's my joy to see people engaged with each other. As it's said at the Refuge, and as I believe: Community will Change the World.

Morakot Watch pt 1: The lasting effects of a Hurricane, 5 years ago

2009-08-13T05:26:00.006-07:00

Five years ago, today, my family (mom, dad, two sisters, a brother, a gecko and a hamster) and I huddled in our laundry room as our house shook, roof tiles slaughtered our neighbors windows, and water began to forcibly enter our house in every way possible.

Have you seen the movie Twister? Remember the scene at the very beginning where the storm rips open the storm shelter and pulls out the father of miniature Helen Hunt? There was a moment in that laundry room where that scene flashed across my mind, followed by a question:

Is this it? Is this what my life has come to?

...That was also the exact moment I knew I'd survive.

For two weeks following that storm, we lived without power or running water. Our refrigerator rotted, and our house never recovered from the musty stench of mold forming and growing in the rain-soggy walls. Mosquitoes began to find their way into our house through the holes in the roof and broken doors.

Once, our water spigot outside began to leak. The six of us danced and bathed in the drip for the first time in a week.

Before long, though, our nightmare ended. But for those two weeks, we relied entirely on the compassion of others, and FEMA, to eat and drink and survive.

This past weekend, Taiwan received over 80 inches of rainfall - more than its been known to get in a year. The regions of south Taiwan are now plagued by flash floods and mudslides that have wiped out entire villages.

What was once my greatest trial is only a speed bump on the road the survivors are facing. I know from first hand experience that the disaster is a reality long after media coverage fades (especially American Media coverage...).

Next week, I have plans to head down to the disaster sites in hopes to offer any help I can muster. I'll be sure to report here on The Drift with photos/videos and stories.

Also, I'll be keeping my feelers out for any grassroots (and scandal-free) organizations accepting donations. I do know World Vision is down there right now, providing relief, and if anyone feels like giving what they can, they would be a great avenue to look into.

Please keep the victims of Typhoon Morakot in your thoughts and prayers.
Stay with me. More updates soon...

[Photo Credit: Here and Here]

Eleven Resolutions to Seeing Wonder in the Ordinary

2009-08-09T02:29:00.006-07:00

Author and professor, Clyde Kilby, left a legacy of eleven resolutions to
"overcoming our bent toward blindness for the wonders of the ordinary."

At least once every day I shall look steadily up at the sky and remember that I, a consciousness with a conscience am on a planet traveling in space with wonderfully mysterious things above and about me.
Instead of the accustomed idea of a mindless and endless evolutionary change to which we can neither add nor subtract, I shall suppose the universe guided by an Intelligence which, as Aristotle said of Greek Drama, requires a beginning, a middle, and an end. I think this will save me from the cynicism expressed by Bertrand Russell before his death, when he said: "There is darkness without and when I die there will be darkness within. There is no splendor, no vastness anywhere, only triviality for a moment, and then nothing."
I shall not fall into the falsehood that this day, or any day, is merely another ambiguous and plodding twenty-four hours, but rather a unique event filled, if I so wish, with worthy potentialities. I shall not be fool enough to suppose that trouble and pain are wholly evil parentheses in my existence but just as likely ladders to be climbed toward moral and spiritual manhood.
I shall not turn my life into a thin straight line which prefers abstractions to reality. I shall know what I am doing when I abstract, which of course I shall often have to do.
I shall not demean my own uniqueness by envy of others. I shall stop boring into myself to discover what psychological or social categories I might belong to. Mostly I shall simply forget about myself and do my work.
I shall open my eyes and ears. Once every day I shall simply stare at a tree, a flower, a cloud, or a person. I shall not then be concerned at all to ask what they are but simply be glad that they are. I shall joyfully allow them the mystery of what C.S. Lewis calls their "divine, magical, terrifying and ecstatic" existence.
I shall sometimes look back at the freshness of vision I had in childhood and try, at least for a little while, to be, in the words of Lewis Carroll, the "child of the pure unclouded brow, and dreaming eyes of wonder."
I shall follow Darwin's advice and turn frequently to imaginative things such as good literature and good music, preferably, as Lewis suggests, an old book and timeless music.
I shall not allow the devilish onrush of this century to usurp all my energies but will instead, as Charles Williams suggested, "fulfill the moment as the moment." I shall try to live well just now because the only time that exists is just now.
If for nothing more than the sake of change of view, I shall assume my ancestry to be from the heavens rather than from the caves.
Even if I turn out wrong, I shall bet my life in the assumption that this world is not idiotic, neither run by an absentee landlord, but that today, this very day, some stroke is being added to the cosmic canvas that in due course I shall understand with joy as a stroke made by the architect who is called Alpha and Omega.

Exert from @JohnPiper's When I don't Desire God (pg 197-199).

Enjoy the Journey.

_____________________________

A few post-publish thoughts:
Whether you know it or not, this "seeing wonder in the ordinary" has been a theme, for me, on this blog. Sometimes, I feel like I've pulled a fast-one over on some of you, dear readers. From time to time your comments sound envious of me and my ventures, and I think to myself, "Do they know I'm just writing about sitting in the bus, or getting my hair cut?"

When I say "Life is a Journey" I don't add "when you're in another country." That's left out purposefully. It's left out because it's too limiting. No matter where we are, life is a journey. The question is, what are we doing with it? Maybe it did take me this year abroad to realize it, but status quo is never something I hope to reach. And by reach, I mean settle for. Life is bigger than the American Dream. It's bigger than my dreams.

Near that passage, Piper goes on to mention how quick we are to "Oooh and Ahh" at the special effects on a theater screen, but ignore the beauty of life we walk by every day. No longer will I simply be amazed at what I'm told to find amazing. I want to discover for myself where life can take me. And I know to do this, it will take a conscious effort, day by day. My sincere hope is that I've said something to spark in you the same desire. That maybe the lens in which you see the world is broadening, as mine has done in the last 11 months. One could only hope.

Carpe Diem, Friends.

28 Days and Counting...

2009-08-07T21:43:00.006-07:00

Storms are vivid imagery for me. I assume this is the case for anyone that has experienced the raw, brute force of nature outside the Weather Channel.

Five years ago, nearly to the day, I sat inside my house in Florida huddled around the Weather Channel with the other 5 members of my family. In horror we listened as the newscaster announced that Hurricane Charley took a turn, and was headed straight for us.

"...you've got 5 minutes. Hunker Down.
Don't try to run."

When the storm's coming, there's not much else to do.

Storms bring out vivid emotions for me. Even today, five years later. When I hear winds howl, rattling the windows, my chest grows tight. The feeling of being trapped inside four walls that I frankly don't trust sets me on edge.

And so I'm on edge. It's the beginning of "Typhoon Season" today with the arrival of Typhoon Morakot, and I've been stuck in my house having to battle cabin fever as rain beats against my sliding glass doors. Once, in a gust, something fell on our roof while I was in the bathroom. I jumped.

We're nearing the 5 year anniversary of Hurricane Charley, the 4 year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, and the 1 year anniversary of Hurricane Ike. Do you remember Ike? It landed in Texas just 11 months ago, claiming 195 lives and estimated to be the third costliest Hurricane to make landfall in the US. Long since over, the news coverage has quit headlining the nightmare in Galveston, but I guarantee you, for the people in that area, it's still a daily reality.

Whether or not we've seen the travesty of weather, life promises to bring storms. It's part of what gives life its rhythm. Like breathing. In. Out.

I arrived in Taiwan at the tail end of Typhoon season '08. Winds, Rain and Restlessness are my earliest memories of this island. But, memories I haven't revisited in nearly a year.

Yet here I am again, brought back to where I began. Cycles.

Except, I'll be leaving soon. I won't experience the tail end of Typhoon Season. September 5th is one year, to the day, in Taiwan; and September 5th, I will be boarding a plane aimed for California.

My one year cycle in Taiwan is nearly over. It's strange for me, with the date approaching, to think that I won't experience another winter here, or Chinese New Year, or LUVStock, or any of the other highlights of this year.

Admittedly, there's mixed feelings. That kind of surprised me when I realized it. Don't get me wrong, I'm stoked to come home, and will most certainly be on that plane, but I'm starting to feel the weight of what I'm leaving.

And at the moment, I'm starting to realize the weight of the limited time I have. As I type this, I'm rounding past the 28 Days mark of my countdown.

It takes 28 Days to form a habit: which means the habits I form today, I'll take with me to America.

Last time I wrote on Habits, I said I was purposely switching my teeth-brushing hand. Well, ten months later, it stuck.

Also, I listed habits I was forming and ones I was seeking to form:

I say "Thank you" in Chinese with out thinking about it.
I say "Hello" in Chinese about 50% of the time.
I drink more tea than coffee
I don't drink soda
I enjoy walking (20 minutes) to the school
I'm starting to wake up earlier

There's also a few habits in the making:
I'm starting to go to bed earlier (it helps with the waking up part, I've found)
I remember to grab tissues to use in the public restroom before I get there
I'm figuring out a routine of when and where to take off my shoes in the house
I'm starting to not go back to sleep after I wake up early...

I still avoid soda and lean towards tea. I purposely walk places. And I even fight responding in Mandarin when I'm with my native-English-speaking friends.

We won't talk about my sleeping habits, but, those other "routines" have become second nature.

With one month left, I've began thinking about what kind of person I want to be when I'm back in the States. What sort of lifestyle I want to lead. I'm starting to focus on my eating habits and exercise routines, and hoping to cultivate something better than the daily fast-food and once-every-six-month gym trip life I left 11 months ago.

If I was to list one fear, it would be that I return home the same person to the same life I left. The very thought of it makes my chest grow tight. I get antsy; set on edge. My biggest fear is that this trip was just a year-long pause button, rather than the life-altering experience it feels like now.

To be honest, I know this is a rash fear. Nonetheless, it is a fear. One that will hopefully keep me conscious of the changes I'll need to make.

I know this trip has changed me, and I am excited to go home and find out how.

28 days and counting...

Taking Refuge

2009-08-04T21:16:00.009-07:00

Making my way to the Refuge was a long time coming. Distinctly, I remember a friend telling me of its infamy in the first month I arrived.

"Just ask any foreigner in Taichung. Everyone in the music scene here knows 'Boston Paul'. Everyone."

I knew this was a guy I needed to meet. But for this reason or that, it took 8 months before I bumped into the local legend. It was at the "International Food & Music Festival" - an excuse for foreigners to get together in a park, eat Burgers or German Sausages and listen to other foreigners on stage, sponsored by Taiwan Beer.

I was there for the food and music; Paul, because his band, Militant Hippie, played. Now, Militant Hippie happens to be the perfect description for Boston Paul. A former serviceman in the Armed Forces, Paul left his life of war in the States and became an expat to Taiwan. Now, he devotes himself to promoting world-change through Community.

At the Food Festival, Paul was sure we'd met before; I was sure we hadn't. That didn't keep us from talking like we had, though. Some friendships are just like that. After only a quick conversation, we promised to keep in touch, and he invited me to his home.

Just over a month later, I finally trekked my way to the Refuge. A Facebook invite beckoned me to LUVStock -- a full weekend music festival in celebration of the Refuge Community of musicians and artists. I knew I found the excuse I needed to make my first trip.

Over the span of two days, it's safe to say I fell in love with what I found. Totally unique to any where else I've ever experienced, the Refuge prides itself on being a safe haven for artists, musicians and thinkers.

It boasts a bar, library, graffiti/art wall, demo-recording studio, stage w/ full PA and a room full of instruments ready to be brought out for anyone to join in on whatever fun is being had.

As Paul explains, the Refuge acquired its name naturally. Home to him, his wife, and their 3 year old son, the Refuge was once just a place where he would invite friends and fellow musicians for an escape from the city smog to a slightly higher elevation in the hills just outside the city. Overtime, his house and its open-door policy began to take on its now familiar title. When the realized there was something organic birthing and taking life, the hosts began to create an intentional space as their vision of what their home could become grew.

Unintentional as the naming might be, it was no accident. Author of the (hopefully) soon-to-be released book, The Tao of Community: A Manifesto, Boston Paul has set his entire life around the pursuit of love and Truth in community.

Inside the communities of expats looking for a breath of fresh air, musicians looking to fiddle with other artists, and wandering Taiwanese hoping to meet a few foreigners, there's a nucleus group of like-minded people, willing to stare culture in the face and say "There's another way to live."

This was the glimmer I saw when I first met Paul back at the Food and Music Festival, and this is what drew me, like a magnet, to the Refuge.

I've met incredible people and had amazing conversations in my short few trips to the Refuge; people and conversations that have both challenged, inspired, and broadened the lens I use to see the world.

People like an incredible family from South Africa, whose young sons pick up percussion instruments and microphones to join their father in singing Beatles, Dylan, and Cash; who have adopted a little girl named Asia-Faith, and are fostering a Taiwanese infant awaiting departure to a loving family in the States.

Or the young married couple who met at the Refuge just a few short years ago: he, also hailing from South Africa; she, the East Coast of the US.

As she and I were once admiring the Taiwanese foster child (mentioned above) - engrossed in amazement over the infant's tiny, wiggling fingers and toes - she remarked,

"I couldn't imagine being a mother in Africa or in India somewhere and holding a baby like this and having to watch it starve. But that happens, every day. What are we doing about it? We can do something about it!"

This is an international community that genuinely cares about the world and the people around them. They breathe compassion. They truly believe, as Boston Paul's mantra goes,

"Community will Change the World."

...and I have to agree with them.

Whether or not Boston Paul and the others know it, they have taught me through simply living their lives. Though my time with "the Refuge Crew" is waning, I know I will take with me the treasured examples and memories of this true Community wherever life brings me to drift.

[Photo found on "The Refuge, Taichung, Taiwan" Facebook Group, Taken by Brendan Dempster - a much better photographer than I am.]

An Evening [or 3] with Faye Blais

2009-08-03T04:47:00.010-07:00

It was my trip to LUVStock that I first heard the name Faye Blais.

The Refuge & LUVStock visionary, Boston Paul, announced rather ecstatically that the community's beloved Faye was returning from Australia for a weekend after nearly two years of absence. I then learned that Miss Blais once was an intricate part of the Taichung Music Community, but had left to tour Australia and New Zealand. Faye was now on her way home to Canada, and, Paul was happy to say, would be spending a weekend in Taichung.

Her tour schedule:
Friday: 89k
Saturday: Retro Coffee
Sunday: The Refuge

...likely my three favorite and most frequented music centers in the city. Checking my schedule, I decided that if this Faye was worth the hype Paul was putting into her, then I may as well fill my weekend at the three venues I otherwise enjoy.

As routine, I did my homework on the new artist and instantly liked what I heard -- only further solidifying my weekend plans. A smooth, soulful voice and intriguing acoustics came through my speakers as a refreshing change from many of the industry's regurgitated pop-sounds.

Upon arriving at 89k, I near immediately picked Faye out of the sparse crowd. What surprised me, though, was that her bright smile luminated in the crowd more than the signature locks I'd seen on her myspace photo.

Escaping the drone of an opening act, I moved my way to the balcony of 89k. After a minute or two, Faye navigated her conversation with her friend across the balcony to include me, as we were the only ones above the main floor. After the three of us made introductions, I listened and occasionally chimed in to the discussion already in motion.

"Our generation is at an age where we're bursting with creativity, and we're all beginning to sacrifice and collaborate to make life and dreams happen." Faye spoke with passion.

I knew instantly there was more to this girl than just another traveling rock star.

Just as I expected, her live show lived up to her recordings and even further alluded to the depth surrounding her music and persona.

89k was just the beginning, though. At Retro, Faye proved capable of the transition between commanding a packed-crowd barroom stage to the intimate setting of a cramped-yet-cozy coffee house. Retro seemed to transform into her living room, as she shared songs from her heart with old friends.

While her peers may write about the most recent melancholy heart break, Faye rejoices in the love of her closest family and friends. Evident is her intentional pursuit of community.

Her concerts reiterated this. Though it has been over a year and a half since her last Taichung appearance, Faye's shows were guaranteed to not only be full of familiar faces, but fellow musicians standing nearby ready to pick up their instrument and join Faye in on the fun. Spontaneity. The kind that comes only from cultivated and welcoming community.

This spilt over into post-show activities, like a song-share under the canopy of trees and a midnight sky. Faye passed round her guitar as I and another sat back and listened to two songstresses trade off tunes. Retiring at a modest 12:30, the 4 of us parted, promising to reconvene the following day.

And reconvene we did. All day Sunday was spent at the Refuge, a music-house inherently focused on birthing community. Boston Paul set up a full-day festival (FayeFest?) in honor of Faye's return.

Favorites of mine, Avery Day and the Deng Yi Xias (translated: "Wait a Minutes") and the Stackers, were there to make the festival ever-more complete. We ignored the heat (best we could), and focused on the people, music, and food around us.

I spent the afternoon in a puddle of my own sweat behind the soundboard with Paul, and Faye drifted between familiar face and new friends. Occasionally, in full Refuge-fashion, an organic jam session would break out during someone's set, and friends would grab microphones and fill the stage with their instruments. As I reveled in this new community I found, both Paul and Faye entered a state of near ecstasy while witnessing the fruit of their cultivation: a truly international community coming together in one purpose. Stylistic differences, musical pedigree, ethnicity, culture, gender and age all cast aside as people picked up instruments and began harmonizing in the same language.

All-in-all over 200 people came through the refuge to celebrate Faye's return. And once again, she proved her versatility during her set. Backed by a completely impromptu band, Faye serenaded the crowd in a mellow, down-tempo set that matched the mood of the sun-setting day.

My final evening with Faye ended much the same as the first began. As the last piece of equipment was torn down, I set out in search for the hammock I spied earlier, tucked away from lights and crowd. Not-at-all disappointed was I to discover it was already occupied by Faye. (OK, only slightly disappointed. I'll admit it looked better than the ground, but I'm certainly not complaining. And was glad she put it to use.) She, too, had once again sought refuge away from the crowd, and we once again ended up in the same place.

By this time, the last bus had long since past. I was beginning to realize my ride-options back into the city were limited, seeing as most had left the night's affair, but wasn't yet ready to give up the evening.

Faye and I began to chat, recapping the weekend's festivities and enjoying our new-formed friendship. We shared stories and dreams of the future; not surprisingly, neither revolved around money and fame but friends and community. There are some people you meet in life that, from the moment you meet them, you know you share a bond that goes beyond words of quick conversation.

Before we could blink, a couple hours passed, the Refuge cleared out, and as tthey were released from entertaining their guests, Boston Paul and his wife drifted over to me and Faye. The four of us recounted the day and I listened to the stories and history of the Refuge. Time slipped away as the birds and air began to awaken. The sky grew light as our faces began to shine once again. Morning broke, but our conversation hadn't.

Around 5, though, it was time to head home. Faye couldn't manage 2 guitars, a bag and a suitcase alone on her scooter, so I hitched a ride with her and carried my weight in a guitar case. We parted, reluctantly, at breakfast just before seven. An unexpected weekend spilt out to Monday morning.

As an artist, Faye's professionalism on stage, color-filled lyrics, enchanting voice and authentic melodies put her in a class of musicianship that I reserve for very few.

As a person, Faye lives what she sings. She embodies life-as-community and attracts and creates it wherever she goes. Undoubted are the lengths she would go for an old friend, but in my weekend around her, I never once saw Faye miss an opportunity to make a new friend, too. For that, I am grateful and blessed.

She brought her lyrics to life, in my time with her. And it's clear to me that she will do this for all who take the time to reach back towards her, whether it be in song or conversation; for an hour, a day, or a lifetime.

Life is a Journey, and it's the people we meet along the way that make it all worth while.

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the people i meet are fantastic
they teach me things i never knew
some happy, some sad
each, a perspective to be had
they share with me while I'm on my way

-Faye Blais, "Canvas"

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Photo Reel

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Attention LA/OC Friends and Readers:
Faye will be playing two shows in Hollywood, and if we can pull together for her, a few more. If you're an artist with a show in the next two weeks that she could open for, that would be great. Otherwise, any leads to venues would be much appreciated. I'll post updates as I can.

Besides that, though, anyone in the area should check out her shows and tell her hi. You'll never know where one conversation will lead.
Aug 6, 2009 9:00 PM @ The Cat Club Hollywood, CA
Aug 11, 2009 9:00 PM @ Room 5 Hollywood, CA

----------------------------------
More on Faye Blais:
FayeBlais.com
Faye's Blog

Listening (without your ears)

2009-07-29T21:22:00.003-07:00

I come against a constant roadblock everyday. Everywhere I go. My problem? I'm illiterate...

...in Taiwan, anyways. I don't speak or read or write Mandarin. Sure, I know some, but... not a lot. Not enough to know what's going on around me at all times. One friend likened it to the condition of a four year old.

But I'm not a four year old. Arguable, sure. But I'm not. And so, I've fought to keep myself aware of my surroundings, engaged in conversations.

One of the members of my Taiwan Family is the matriarchal Grandmother of the house. She doesn't speak any English, but we sit down during meals, often just her and I, and enjoy conversations at length. Other family members will butt into our conversations from time to time, doubting our ability to communicate. They'll ask me what she said, and more often than not, I can give them a fairly accurate answer to the gist of the conversation.

"Wow! Your Chinese is so good now!" is their common response. But I know that's not true.

A budding vocabulary helps, but I've learned to do this by heightening and engaging my other senses. Many become so accustomed to conversing with mouth and ears (and some, just with their mouth), that many have forgotten the other elements of conversation.

Conversation is about putting yourself in the place of that person. Knowing what they are thinking and feeling. Empathizing. Not so that you can get the next word in, but because you care.

I often fear we've stopped teaching how to care.

Or maybe it's our reliance on digital communication that's forced our mind into a 2D understanding of life.

But life isn't flat.

By no means am I claiming to be an expert on this. If anything at all, I'm simply an observer, firsthand, reporting my side of the Conversation. This year, I've intentionally focused on a handful of lessons I felt Taiwan could teach me: one being Communication.

And I have learned. And I'm still learning.

But I realized, Communication doesn't happen by accident. It takes two or more people who care enough to focus on each other.

When the focus is that intentional, spoken words become merely one set of tools in the box of communication.

Tools need to be used well to be effective, but the point is not the tool. The point is not the words. The point is the people. For me, it's always the people.

---------

How do you communicate without words? Do you do so consciously or unconsciously? With intention, or by accident?

Reasons I Miss the States - Mexican Food

2009-07-29T06:25:00.006-07:00

Recently, my family asked me what my first meal would be when I return to the States. For sure, they thought, I would choose In'n'Out. While it was a fair and worthy choice on their part, I frankly don't know if my stomach could handle that weighty of a meal after such a hiatus as mine. If you don't know what In'n'Out is, you are undoubtedly missing out on the best burger joint of your life. Ever.

Instead, I surprised them by requesting Mexican Food. In Taiwan, Mexican food is the one ethnic dish that is hard to find, and harder to find done well. Japanese? No problem. Thai? We've got that. But Mexican... well, let's just say there isn't a Taco Bell down the street.

There is, however, a Nightmarket. And in this particular Nightmarket there is a Turkish couple who have immigrated to Taiwan. This Turkish couple have a small stand with a banner that hangs above head. The banner reads Authentic Mexican Burritos. And it couldn't make me happier.

To begin with, they're great people, that couple. But then again, I tend to believe food tastes better when you enjoy the people involved in its creation. Heck, I believe life tastes better when you enjoy the people involved in creating life around you.

But, good queue-conversation aside, the burrito is consistently fantastic. Authentic or not, it's hard to take qualms with a chicken burrito with a tortilla rolled from dough.

Fajitas, Tacos, Quesadillas, and heck, Nacho Cheese Chalupas, are all foods I've involuntarily fasted from for the span of a year, but I've certainly been held over by the Wen Xin Nightmarket Authentic Mexican Burritos. 好吃!

On Future Travels, and Other Driftings

2009-07-17T04:46:00.008-07:00

Oh, deer. I have a confession to make...

All this time, I've been telling everyone I would leave Taiwan on September 9th (9.9.09, Never Forget)... but I looked at my flight confirmation again today, and discovered I would have missed my plane by four days! Better now than then, yea?

So, my official departure is Saturday, September 5th, 2009. I haven't quite yet decided what to do with the Taiwan Drift when that time comes. I do know I don't want to stop writing... or stop traveling! This year abroad has sparked Wanderlust in me something unquenchable.

In fact, I hope to take one more trip abroad before heading towards the States. I've had my fair share of Thailand, I do believe. Japan and Malaysia are still among the top of my list. I've also been leaning towards Indonesia for some time, but the recent travel warnings might make that difficult. Political protests (and you know, terrorism) aside, Jakarta and Bali both seem beautiful destinations.

Then again, in the wake of protest may be the best time to visit? I'll monitor my travel sites for another week or so to see where the best deals are before taking the plunge and committing to my last drift off the island before returning home.

Though I've found a few new sites in my travels, I still revert to tried and true Expedia.com for many of my flights. Recently, I was turned on to a new site, HotelsCombined.com. From my poking around, it has one of the most comprehensible layouts for travel sites out there. Does anyone else feel lost trying to navigate discount travel sites? Save you money?

Probably. Save you time? Maybe not...

That didn't seem the case with Hotels Combined, so I'm looking forward to giving them a shot.

Wherever I choose to travel, I'll be sure to keep everyone at The Drift updated. There is one post-Taiwan trip I have in mind, but I'll keep the suspense for a wee bit longer before I announce that one. I will also keep you all updated with the future of the Drift, for there certainly will be one.

As always, thanks for Drifting with me.

The Journey is the Destination.

[Photo: Champoo Wild Life Sanctuary, Thailand]

Escaping Pattaya - The Treetop Adventure, or Pattaya Part Tree

2009-07-15T03:52:00.007-07:00

The Daylight Hours between
A Nightta Pattaya, Parts One and Two
---------------------------

The sun was up, and I knew I wanted to get my day moving, as it was my last in Thailand. Slightly disappointed in myself for sleeping in, I rushed down the elevator in search for breakfast.

Upon entering the lobby, I was greeted by the same receptionist from the night before.

"You're up early." she stated in disinterested surprise.
"Am I?" I answered, still half asleep.

She nodded towards the clock on the wall. 6:30?! I guess I was up early.

Taking advantage of my early hours, I left the lobby and jogged (/walked.) along the boardwalk for a couple kilometers. This would be the only time I saw Pattaya Beach in full daylight.

An hour or so later, I returned and was talked out of eating breakfast at my hotel, by my hotel's staff, and directed towards the buffet down the block at their sister hotel. Strange, I thought, but I did eat my fill before finishing my morning on the rooftop pool.

After deciding on a new hotel to stay in, and catching a motorbike taxi to get there, I found a travel agent, set on discovering some of the nearby islands.

Unfortunately, I was told, all organized trips had been booked at least a day prior and left before any of the agents were open in the morning. Renting a private charter to an island just wasn't worth the money as a single traveler. Neither came as a big surprise, though both were a slight disappointment.

I asked her if there was anything else, I could do. After the previous night's festivities, I wanted out of this city. She pointed at brouchers like "Zoo" and "Snake Show." My complete lack of interest clearly transcended the boundaries of bi-lingual communication.

"You don't seem like someone who wants the regular kinds of tourism..." I grinned and shook my head to confirm her thought.

It was around this time I allowed my attention to focus on a poster I had seen several in various locations.

"What about that?" I asked inquisitively. She smiled, knowing we found the one.

Flight of the Gibbon: Asia's Treetop Adventure.

I was sold. Completing the transaction, and dashing back to my hotel room to prepare, I met the small bus back in front of the travel agent's small office. Last to be picked up, I took my seat and turned to greet my companions-in-adventure: four young Israeli men, and their Thai girl friend.

Making brief introductions, we set off for our ride. Not long later, we found ourselves in the secluded Champoo Wildlife Sanctuary, not far outside Pattaya.

After the ritualistic signing our life away, promising we know we could die and it would be our fault if we did, the six of us strapped in our harnesses, grabbed our helmets, and met Mike and Don, our Tree Top guides.

The two guides were incredible, and fully knowledgeable of the surrounding forest and history of our expedition. The pack of eager adventurers hiked up hill before climbing the first platform. It was here we were told we stood on the first of 24 platforms with 16 zip lines, and several free-fall rappels looming ahead of us. Most of our group swallowed hard, and shifted nervously; some double checked their safety lines.

One of our guides strapped in, launched himself off the safety of the platform and rushed through the trees before landing several meters away on the other side.

"Your turn," the remaining guide smiled. It was at this point I knew we were in for a lot of fun. None the less, I couldn't help but look down...

Flight of the Gibbon was an incredible adventure for your atypical tourist, and a great break from standard Thailand fanfare. I found myself bonding with 7 strangers, to the point I was sad to see them go at the end of our tree hopping. The wildlife sanctuary was breathtaking: out of city smog, and in the grasp of nature, the setting offered as authentic an experience as possible.

And the zip lines, the free falls, they were by no means watered down. At the peak, we soared over one hundred meters above the ground. The longest line lasted over 300 meters, we glided like flying squirrel - or, well, gibbon - from perch to perch.

At first, it wasn't easy to trust the cables and harness that held us. But as time went on, it was encouraging to see how each member of the group became more and more willing to dive off the ledge and let go of their inhibitions... and their white-knuckle grip.

All-in-all, I'd say my unplanned Plan B was a soaring success. If I was to chalk up the score on this Rematch Trip to Thailand, I wouldn't hesitate to say I came out on top.

Treetop, that is.

A Nightta Pattaya - Part Two

2009-07-15T03:00:00.002-07:00

This is a continuation post from A Nightta Pattaya - Part One
---------------------------

Showered, and now looking -- and smelling -- like a functioning member of society, I set out in hunt for some incredible Thai food.

The women of the Pattaya Beer Bars began to clamor for my attention near the moment I stepped outside.

"Come, come on, just one drink"
"I'm... I'm really hungry."
"Do you want some company? I come with you. You so lonely."

"I'm not lonely, but solitary.

"Really though, I just want some food. Is there anything good around here?"

The ladies pointed me in the direction of an outdoor eatery that was obnoxiously sponsored by Heineken. I took the suggestion, nonetheless, because of the stage and live music.

In my travels through Asia (Taiwan, Thailand, Hong Kong), I've found a common thread with non-native English speakers performing English songs: Mispronunciation and misinterpreted lyrics. I'm glad to say, however, this late-evening eatery with the band who looked straight out of Scott Stapp's fan club - Thailand branch, was a great exception to the rule. And boy, was it.

In fact, their performance was near flawless...

What drew me to the patio was not the flashing neon Heineken sign on the stage, but the serenade of my all time favorite Aerosmith ballad. Even from across the street, it was unmistakable. As I drew closer, the band moved to the chorus and I confirmed my excitement. The singer brushed back his hair and belted out, in great Steven Tyler fashion, "Don wan Messy Ting."

After ordering what I hoped would be the best coconut curry I've ever tasted, I sat back to listen to more music.

A female vocalist donned the stage and offered her rendition of Sarah Connor's "Bounce Baby On the Door."

At the time of my order, I requested from the menu what looked to be a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice (they didn't have Thai Iced Tea). During this song the waitress brought me a cup of Tang...

The vocalists teamed up for a slow ballad, certain to be a cross-platform crowd pleaser. Even in Thailand, a little Country goes a long way with an audience.

It was a touching affair, and the duo shared a strong sense of chemistry on stage as they seemingly sang to each other Shania Twain's "You Still the Why I Wan."

My food was served. And while the coconut broth of my soup was admittedly delicious, I couldn't for the life of me piece together the sticks and leaves floating next to my chicken. It wasn't until half a song later that I realized the foreign floating objects to be dry bamboo and stale basil (though I had seen a planter with remarkably similar leaves just outside the "kitchen tent").

As I continued to crunch away, and began opting for the meat-itarian version of my meal, the drummer and keyboardist hit the first note of the band's final number, which nearly made me choke on a rogue bamboo shoot the moment I heard it.

Could it be? A chart topping smash hit by a Southern California band from my own backyard? The first line confirmed it: "I holdin on yo rocks got me ten feet on the ground." Yes, this was the work of none other than One Republic -- made famous by Timbaland. Unabashedly, I sung along with the chorus: "Is too late to Paw-jiz-eyes!"

Despite my disappointing meal, I left the cantina thoroughly... entertained... by the stage show.

After a quick trip around the block, it became clear to me that I would not find anything to top that entertainment in this part of town. So, decidedly, I returned to my room and retired for the evening.

My next night in Pattaya, at a different hotel and different part of town, I found the cuisine to fit my fancy - and a tall, frosty glass of Thai Ice Tea to boot. If you've never had Thai Ice Tea, search out your local Thai food joint, and ask for some there. Now. My blog will be here when you get back.

When the last of my meal hit the bottom of my stomach, I thought to myself, "Where's the one place I can go where I know I'll find other travelers and won't be hassled by the working girls... and boys."

(Did I mention Thailand has one of the largest populations of openly transgendered people? "Lady boys," as they're known, are simply considered a part of Thailand's tourist culture. Sometimes it's blatant, sometimes... you'd never guess it. I'm no anthropologist, but I have a thoughts as to why they're so affluent here.)

I digress.

Only one place came to mind, but I knew it was all that I needed. Walking along the street with determination, I stopped only when the neon lights illuminated my view. I arrived.

The bar/venue at the Hard Rock Cafe and Resort, Pattaya was quite less than packed, but the Thai-filled house-band was about to hit the stage, and promised to be an improvement on the previous nights affairs.

They did not disappoint. And I was right about my hunch. As soon as it became painfully obvious that I was there by myself, a guy/girl duo of Australian friends bounced over to me and told me of their pact with each other not to let anyone in the bar that night sit alone. Not one to cause others break pacts, I was obliged to join them.

Hard Rock closed early for a nightlife-driven town, so my new friends Lyndon and Cassie, and I hit the streets. I was surprised to find the working class of Pattaya were much less persistent - or even noticeable - when traveling in a group.

We walked the streets and the beach, and even popped into McDonald's (or Mackers, as they called it) for a late snack; they had not yet eaten dinner and it was open all night.

Having to catch an early bus to the airport the next morning, I retired to my room with very little time for any sense of a good night's rest.

Though I enjoyed my time, and though my second night proved a great advance over the first, I never did have the chance to relax on the beach for long hours during the day.

Why, you ask? Well for that answer, you'll simply have to wait until the next post.

A Nightta Pattaya - Part One

2009-07-13T05:46:00.000-07:00

I blame the man on the plane for sending me to Pattaya.

He was certainly an interesting fellow, quite eccentric. A Singapore national living in Bangkok, by way of Taiwan and Australia, he signed divorce papers, packed up, and backpacked the US for an entire year, drifting wherever the wind and free rides took him.

To his credit, I don't actually believe he meant to be malicious. In fact, he probably would have done the average joe-backpacker a favor by suggesting Pattaya. Then again, maybe I should have been warned when his "Ride the skytrain to the last stop, and you'll find the best 100 baht buffet, and the only $100 baht/hr Thai Massage in the city" advice turned up void - which put me out an hour's time and about $20 baht on the above-ground subway and left me riding the bus on an empty stomach.

But maybe I just didn't look hard enough. And maybe when I said "I want out of Bangkok and would love to see the beach" he genuinely thought "Pattaya" to be the best and closest option. And maybe it was.

Yet, if you're a single white male traveling alone with absolutely zero interest in hiring a prostitute, Pattaya is about the worst choice on the planet for "Beach City Vacation." It's like saying, "I really want to see the rich culture of Amsterdam, and heard there are cheap rooms in the Red Light District... I'll stay there."

Live and learn, right?

In haste, I hopped on my bus leaving Bangkok for the beach city, and assumed I would find a currency exchange there. I began to panic and take note of all the 24 hr McDonald's along the way, as it quickly became 8pm before I arrived. But the open-aired taxi driver assured me I would be alright, and persuaded me to let him take me there. I'm proud to say I brought his price down from $150 baht (about $5 US) to $50 baht (about a buck fifty). It wasn't so much a negotiation as it was a "You've got to be kidding me" response to his first quote.

Along the way, the driver slowed to roll around a turn. At the corner, a group of girls in their late twenties let out a whoop from their beer-bar seats. Puzzled, I turned to my Middle Eastern cab mates, intending to ask if the ladies were acquaintances of theirs, but the two stared back at me with a look that told me this trip to Pattaya might be more than I bargained for.

After passing 3 or four, the taxi dropped me off in front of an illuminated teller window. Completing my transaction, I began to walk towards where I presumed there would be a hotel. A large, gaudy looking building with an illuminated sign that said "Inn" or "Lodge" or both, I really don't remember. I do remember a few bellhop looking young men and something of a well dressed host. I assumed this all added up to Hotel.

My bad.

Approaching the entrance, backpack in tow, I began to form the sentence "Do you have any rooms?" directed at the host who appeared in charge of the front door. As the last few words were escaping my lips, the dual sliding glass doors hummed open, revealing a wide expanse of a lobby and glass window at the far end. Behind the Plexiglas perched a score of beautiful Thai women in pretty pink outfits.

My feet skidded to a stop, and a single eyebrow arched towards the ceiling.

The glorified Bellhop must have seen the expression on my face as I slowly backed away from the door and turned to leave. "No, sir, we no have, but down the road have Excellent Hotel." I blinked, and nodded in thanks.

Along the route to this excellent hotel, I passed another beer-bar. And another. And... wow, there's a lot of these here.

A Pattaya beer bar is a bare-bones, no walls, bar, stools, and a couple tables establishment. It's a bar that would like to pretend that it looks out across a flat sea, where the open atmosphere beckons in fresh, salty air, but it's actually two blocks and two hundred identical beer-bars away from that setting.

And at the corner table, closest to the entrance, sit a half dozen ladies pining for someone's attention. At every. single. bar. Unbeknown to me, I fit their M.O.

Lucky me.

Excellent Hotel now in sight, I bee-lined for the real bellhops, who ushered me inside. (I would say something to the effect of "with eager women diving for my heels," but that would be superfluous.)

Even with the 50% discount they were offering, the hotel was more than I cared to spend, and more luxury than I required. I told the nice lady behind the counter that I would search around the city, and come back if nothing else fit my needs. She snickered.

Immediately upon stepping outside, backpack still in tow, it began to rain. It felt like a scene from a Jim Carey movie. Not the blockbusters, but one of the ones his fans try to sweep under the rug and pretend not to associate with him.

I sighed. Turning on my heel decisively, I set off in the general direction of "different hotel." Equally decisive, the rain poured down harder. After a quick weigh of options -- A. hunch-back panch-clad soggy street drifter; B. risking taxi scam in a hotel hunt; C. A night of undue luxury -- I decided to humble myself and return through the doors of the Excellent Hotel.

In an attempt to preserve my pride, or something, I paused before entering and looked at the bellhop:

"Is there wireless internet in the room?" I asked through inquisitive eyes.
"Certainly sir."
"Sold, I'll take the room."

Once, I heard that travel writers are treated well in these types of establishments, so I tried to slyly drop that bit of (stretched) information at the desk. It did me no good. Instead, I believe the staff took pity on me - the soggy drifter who stumbled in like a wet dog. They likely made a joke or two at my expense in Thai, though the waitress from the bar was kind enough to walk over a cup of cold grape juice while I was signing paperwork. Yeah, grape juice.

After I finished there, I spun towards the elevator - my soaked sneakers squeaking on the expensive floor - and made my way up to the 6th floor shelter that would be my home for the 13 hours to follow.

After a shower, and a bit of lounging, I decided to set off into the city in search for an authentic Thai meal.

But what I found instead... well, that, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

2009-07-12T11:37:00.006-07:00

This Adventure runs the route of my mantra "The Journey is the Destination."

My Destination: LUVStock '09 - which is a blog post in and of itself.

My Journey: Discovering the route out of the city and to the base of Dakeng Mountainside for a weekend of music, art, food and friends.

Having vague directions off the Internet, and trusting the promise of signs, I set off on the first of the three buses to approach my stop. First excitement of the ride: I was the only one aboard.

Every now and again, the bus driver will ask you where you are going after you scan your card. I tossed out a couple of words and he told me I was on the wrong bus. I knew that. Really. I showed him the Chinese characters I scribbled down from the Internet -- in hopes that I was writing down an accurate address -- and he said that I would have to switch buses to get to where I wanted to go. I knew that as well.

What I didn't know, however, was which bus I would switch to. This bus was a free bus though. So I wasn't out anything to start. In an effort to raise commuter-count on the public transport system, the Taichung Mayor instated several "free" lines a few months back.

I'm all for it, Mayor Hu. I'll even forgive you for those awful advertisements plastered along the side.

By no means did I expect the bus I was on to be the one to take me as far as I wanted to go. Turns out, though, that this line traveled a lot further along route than I previously expected.

Seeing I was the only one on board, I sat in the Rosa Parks Reserved section and struck up a conversation with the friendly bus driver. A gem in its own weight.

Not uncommonly, he was excited to talk to an "American man" and did speak a fair amount of English, which came in handy when the odd word ventured outside my minuscule vocabulary. He asked me about my family in America and life in Taiwan; joked about "Ah-nold" in California, and spoke kind words of Obama. He asked if I knew of the American School in the city, which was ironic because that school is a Missionary Kid's School, and I was invited to visit just two nights before by my friends running a camp there. Had that not been the case, I'd have never of recognized the Chinese name.

After twenty minutes or so, still no one to join the driver and I, the bus pulled over and my momentary companion drew back the door to let me out. I left the free ride with a good bilingual conversation and a clear sense of where I was going.

Another bus pulled up and a young teenage Taiwanese boy stepped off. Although the seashells in our ears kept us from attempting to converse, we exchanged a few awkward smiles, waves, and glances. I waited about as long as the first leg of my journey before spying my new bus from a perch above the road. Flagging down the driver, I boarded and set off for Dakeng.

Twenty minutes passed again, and I saw the first of the signs: A blue heart, lined with red, and an arrow pointing in a general direction of forward. Unfortunately, it was at the beginning of a roundabout, and the bus decided to change course. Luckily, however, the button had been pushed, and I exited along side a young mother and her daughter. Glancing around, venue and taxis no where in sight, I decided that if there were signs, it must be close, so I set off on foot.

Sign after sign, and no festival insight. By my estimation at the time, I felt nearly 3 km away. If I'm to be honest, I'd say maybe 1.5 to 2km. Decidedly, I changed my pace to a slow jog, not caring that I was in my three year old Rainbow flip flops, or that the humidity had me sweating out of my eyelids and dripping off my chin.

A few more signs and I grew more and more tempted to stick out my thumb. To my relief, I didn't have to. I noticed a vehicle slow to a stop about ten meters ahead of me, and (since I'd switched to walking by this point) I picked up my pace to discover who my fellow traveler could be. Roger, the keyboardist I recognized from 9/10ths of the influential bands who have keyboardists here in Taichung asked if we were headed to the same place and offered me a ride.

By his speculation and mine, we were there within about 500 meters, but I was no less than grateful. I earned my fare by loading half his gear into the venue to ease his setup.

After about two hours, and several modes of transportation, I made it. The trip spared me no sense of adventure and led me to a destination of great community. My day included a global spectrum of music, authentic all-American food (like a burger, marinated in a Vinaigrette, and a pulled pork BBQ sandwich), Dad's Root beer, a dip in the creek, exploring an abandoned amusement park, and fantastic conversation with doubly fantastic new friends.

Even the trip home proved an adventure, as I found a ride with fellow vagabonds headed back to the city after LUVStock simmered and long after the buses retired for the evening.

Energized by the night I enjoyed and encouraged by the ease of my new-found bus route, I trekked up to LUVStock: Day Two at The Refuge- a music and art community I've been plotting to visit for some time. Had I known there was a bus route from literally my door to the welcoming arch of the Refuge, I would have visited a long time ago. But now I know. Traveling there will by no means require a taxi or long strolls through a foreign mountainside town or thumbing towards strangers and hoping for the best.

I was quite satisfied with my decision to return for Day Two, and would attribute it to my new friendships and conversations beckoning me with their love for life in community. Truth be told, though, what really brought me back to the second round of LUVStock wasn't what or who I found at the destination at all: it was the bus driver at the beginning of my journey the day before, willing to break the barrier between foreign passenger and public chauffeur. It was our willingness to look past the awkwardness of bilingual communication, and the time we took to share our travels with the other.

Do not pass up the scenery and opportunities around you in search for wherever it is you're sure you're headed. Know that life happens at every moment, not just at the "big ones." It's after you recognize this that you will begin to experience life more fully.

Because Life is a Journey, friends,
and the Journey is the Destination.

[Photo Credit. Photo 1: The back of a Taichung City Bus. Photo 2: Along the foot path to LUVStock: Day One. A sign to guide me which simply reads "LOVE" ... there's a message here, I'm sure of it.]

An Afternoon in the Orchestra, or The Art of the Triangle - Take 2

2009-07-07T06:31:00.003-07:00

So I did some practicing. Not nearly enough, simply because I didn't think they'd actually put me on stage again, but I did practice a bit. And it paid off. Imagine that. I now can successfully add "bongo player for the 'Crouching Tiger' score" to my expat brewed resume.

If you don't know what I'm referring to, you could go back and read here. In short though, my Taiwanese family runs the Taichung City Symphony Orchestra, as well as the city's Youth Orchestra. Throughout my time here, I've had the pleasure of attending numerous orchestra and chamber engagements, but this past Sunday marked my second performance playing in the symphony.

Now, let's just get something straight... I'm not a musician. I've been around music my whole life, and I've taken a few piano lessons and such growing up, but I haven't played/read sheet music in years. Long ago, I decided this was for everyone's best interest. That said, I love music. So much so, I've continually found ways to surround myself with people who have made music their life. Apparently, my life in Taiwan is no exception.

No worry though, musicianship isn't a requirement for me to join the youth orchestra. In fact, upon participating, I became known as Teacher Chase. This position was further solidified when introductions were being made during the performance. The emcee had each of the adult performers stand as she announced who they are, what they play, who they teach, and where their various degrees and doctorates in music are from. As she circled her way towards the back, I wondered what she'd say about me. Pointing in my direction, she announced, "Chase 老师 (lao shu, meaning teacher)..." She paused, as did I, waiting for what I knew was bound to come: "uh, he's a foreigner." Politely, the audience applauded. Obviously, the term teacher doesn't so much imply adequate knowledge of music able to impart upon eager students, but rather "Slightly older than the shorter ones, and wearing a blue shirt."

All that aside, I really did have a good time with this one. We performed at the Taichung City's Science Museum. Not in their auditorium, but instead in the middle of the walk way. Admittedly, this was a bit strange to me, but we were able to pick up an audience of foot traffic to add to the mothers, fathers and camera-clad grandparents.

Prior to our performance, we spent 5 days in the south of Taiwan at a resort that ran itself like a campground facility. (Orchestra Band Camp? Never thought I'd be there.) It was a great time with the kids, and I developed as many highfives and secret handshakes as I could, which as you know, solidifies two people as friends forever. It's strange knowing that my time with this group is over, as I'll be returning home before their next semester begins again. I hope that my presence made some sort of impact on them that goes beyond "Silly foreigner can't play on beat."

All together, I played on about 7 or so pieces. At a later date, I hope to compile a medley of all the different instruments and percussion pieces I used, but in the meantime, here are the full length performances of highlights from both the "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" score, and the "Chronicles of Narnia - Prince Caspian" score.

Rematch.

2009-06-26T03:59:00.002-07:00

This is a first. I'm blogging from the Taipei International's terminal.

I had some time, short but enough of an excuse to get off the island, so I decided I wanted a rematch against Thailand.

I'll update when I can, and be back after the weekend.

In the meantime, you can catchup on my last trip here

A Look Back on The Drift: "Forgetting the Little Things, or 'And Here We Go'"

2009-06-23T10:37:00.006-07:00

If you've been a reader of The Drift for any length of time, you know one thing I harp on every chance I get is community. It's something I've focused my attention on learning while I'm here in Taiwan, and it comes out in my blogging a lot. Besides my off-line, foreign (to me) community I've built here in Taiwan, I've also had the pleasure to be a part of some great online groups. There's an incredible bunch over on 20-Something Bloggers. If you're 20-something, and you blog, check them out.

From time-to-time, they organize a "Blog Carnival". I've vowed only to participate if it keeps with the themes of The Drift , but Introspection through "Looking back" is certainly a recurring message here.

That said: This post is a part of 20SB’s Looking Back Blog Carnival, and Ben & Jerry’s is awarding free ice cream to lucky bloggers and readers! And who could pass by the chance to win free ice cream?!?

About the Entry: Originally Posted 9.11.08. This blog entry first made it to the pages of my journal as I flew across the Pacific from Orange County, California to my new home in Taiwan. It was birthed out of the fear and anticipation of my new adventure, and it set the themes of Journey, and the search for Community.

I've wanted to re-share this post for awhile, and figured the Blog Carnival was a great excuse! I hope you enjoy a bit of Drifter past :).

The Journey is the Destination.
-Chase.

9.3.08

The first day of my journey. My bags were packed, I'd made my lists (checked it twice). And I had everything I needed. Everything, but one little thing. A pen. It crossed my mind in the car, but I didn't think of it again until I was in line for the security checkpoint. That's a great way to start this voyage overseas.

Actually, it's an awful way.

Forgetting the Little Things.

Learning to tend to the "little things" in life is one discipline I hope to nourish while I'm on this trek. When you tend to those "little things" in life, the Big Problems don't seem so big. Or at least they might be more manageable.

So, "How did I get all this on paper," you ask? Well, obviously, in the security line, its too late to turn around and frisk your family for any such utensils. I was forced to wait it out and hope to find something in the terminal.

In the line, I witnessed someone be turned back and told to wait, and someone else, escorted to the screening room. As I put my belongings into those Tupperware containers, I checked in the recesses of my mind to ensure I didn't forget that pocketknife in the inner zipper.

Luckily, it was smooth sailing through the checkpoint, so I slipped on my shoes and headed for the first - and only - convenience store in sight. (and convenient it was.)

When I asked the expressionless cashier for the pens, she lifted a finger to a bucket on the other side of the counter. After rummaging for a bit, and realizing there were no more than three varieties, I selected a green pen with gel around the finger grip and a button that lights up said gel in 4 flashing varieties. The Carabiner Clip on the end, I thought, will help remind me to remember the little things.

And the "Beverly Hills" screen print, and $9 price tag will help me remember forgetting isn't cheap! Ouch!

In all my preparations so far, I've kept my emotions very even-keeled. Honestly, this has prevented me from feeling much at all. I'm certainly not considering it a virtue - more survival than anything.

But now I find myself 1000 miles from the California Coastline I know and love. Nothing but blue stretched above and below me as I chase the sunset to my new Horizon.

It's really starting to hit me, I think. I'm now half-way through this flight (I'm guessing; two movies, and the top score in Bejeweled... sounds about half way). And I'm realizing, as I look around and see no westerners, that being surrounded by Asians and a language I don't understand is a semi-permanent condition. It's not something I can easily walk away from...

There's a man in the Scriptures who is only mentioned once. He is known, by most, only for his prayer. Among other things, he asks that the Lord "expand his horizons." Though I don't agree with the financial-success-focused spin much of the American Church has linked with this passage (or the way the prayer was marketed as a self-help success formula to the profit of those with publishing rights), a piece of its message still resonates with me.

I pray that the Lord expands my horizons this year in my capacity to Love. I want to see him enlarge my ability to see outside myself. To see and love others as they are. To be able to walk in their shoes.

And I know he'll do this. I say that because I know Love is always his vision. The Ancient Israelites hold a name for God that speaks volumes of his faithfulness. "Jehovah Jireh" - meaning, "the Lord will Provide." Throughout my years on this journey-called-life this has been a name I've cleft. To me, it means God cares about the little things. And it teaches me that so should I.

As I finish this entry, the sun has almost won the race below the Horizon. The blue sky is broken by an orange glow, and the glistening pacific is masked by a sea of light, scattered clouds. The cabin is dark now, and my new friend and seatmate Michael is catching up on some sleep before he arrives home in Taipei.

I would not be able to finish my writing tonight if it were not for the soft green glow of my $9 pen. God has many lessons for me this year, and I am excited, anxious, scared, and determined to meet each in the fullest.

This is my journey, and I am honored that you're the least bit interested in joining me. I thank you, maybe in advance, for reading. My humblest hope is that it in some way may encourage you in your journey.

Here's to feeling life is more than a Destination.

Here's to finding the most out of the Little.

Here's to knowing this journey is meant to be spent with Fellow Journeyers.

And Here We Go..

[Photo: Taken while writing this Journal: 09.03.08 // Flight from LAX to Taipei // California Coastline]

Thoughts On the American Dream - And a Father's Request for Commentary

2009-06-21T08:51:00.002-07:00

"The American Dream is Alive..."

I once had a mentor who would use this as an opening line to his sales presentations. He continued by saying "and you can have it, if you just take the time to learn how to get it."

Realizing my time in Taiwan is coming to an end, I've been reflecting on what my life will be like when I return to the States. Having lived here a year, I am now somewhat of an "international citizen." So, that leaves me asking: What is the American Dream? Do I want part in it?

Recently, a Russian scholar predicted that there is "a high probability that the collapse of the United States will occur by 2010,” (FoxNews.com, 03/04/09). Talk about a welcome home party...

The scholar went on to say, "What's happened is the collapse of the American dream."

What is this thing called the American Dream? Is it different for everyone?

Writing this, I am reminded of a conversation I had with a Taiwanese student, early in my trip. "America is a place where you can be anything you want to!" He stated emphatically, and slightly distressed.

Is that the American Dream?

Freedom to choose your own destiny in life - like those "Choose Your Own Adventure" books I read as a kid? (Confession: I often cheated at those.)

I always heard the American Dream was "Man, Wife, 2.5 Kids and a Picket Fence." But frankly, that's not necessarily all that desirable to me. If that's the American Dream, I might just pass.

Wikipedia (yes, I wiki'd "American Dream") defines it as such:

A national ethos unique to the United States of America in which democratic ideals are perceived as a hope-filled view of the prosperity of its people... citizens of every rank feel that they can achieve a "better, richer, and happier life." The idea of the American Dream is rooted in the second sentence of the Declaration of Independence which states that "all men are created equal" and that they have "certain inalienable Rights" including "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Much more desirable, when worded that way, and much closer to the Taiwanese Student's notion of America.

Interestingly enough, however, the article goes on to say The American Dream has "been blamed for overinflated expectations of its people," and:

...has not historically helped the majority of minority race and lower class American citizens to gain a greater degree of social equality and influence. Instead, the American Dream has often been observed to sustain class differences in which well-positioned groups continue to be advantaged.

Well, if that's the truth behind the American Dream, I'm not sure I want it either.

Awhile back, my dad pointed me towards that quote by the Russian Scholar, and to a website which notes "A democracy is temporary in Nature."

The site went on to state that in the history of the world, the greatest Democracies have ran an average 200 year life-cycle:

From bondage to spiritual faith;
From spiritual faith to great courage;
From courage to liberty;
From liberty to abundance;
From abundance to complacency;
From complacency to apathy;
From apathy to dependence;
From dependence back into bondage.

My dad - a frequent reader of not just The Drift, but also its comments - shared these links with me in hopes of gleaning your opinions and input on all of this. He considers the community here to be globally diverse and well opinionated. (He also thinks you're all extremely bright and incredibly good looking...) So, in honor of Father's Day, I turn his request over to you:

Does this "cycle" ring true with you?
- If so: Where in it do you feel America lies?
What is "The American Dream"? Is it something a Taiwanese National (or others) could(/should?) aspire to?
What will "the collapse" look like? What will have been its cause?

And (this one's completely for me) :

What should I do when I return home in September?

Thanks from both my dad and I in advance. Any other commentary welcomed gladly.

[Photo Credit: This Site, thanks to Google.]

On Mandarin Becoming a Little Less Chinese, or "The Art of Familiarity"

2009-06-15T11:31:00.009-07:00

On Mandarin Becoming
A Little Less Chinese.

"It sounds Chinese to me..."

There was just three westerners in my Mandarin Class. Though we weren't the only English speakers, we were the only English natives. Often, our teacher (老师) would pose a question in Mandarin.

"I don't know, it sounds Chinese to me!" We would chuckle to each other under our breath.

Tongue-in-cheek, it may be, but there was truth to it. The sounds, tones, syllables: all completely foreign to our western ears.

+

There are moments still when I walk down the street. If the sun is just right; if a scent hits my nostrils; at the most unexpected moments, my mind transposes my body and eyes to when this place was new.

Only but a moment, these feelings disappear as I realize the familiarity of the ground beneath my feet.

What a change. Scents, sights, sounds... they're comfortable now. I'm less wide-eyed and wondrous as I walk around.

+

I noticed it first in the Bangkok airport. Admittedly, it was strange being in a foreign land and not being able to use my new second language that is now impulsive. I can't make heads or tails of the Thai language. That goes for the writing, too. Thai and Thailand were different and new and foreign.

But the airport. When I found my terminal, I heard Mandarin for the first time in days. Immediately, my ears perked up and I began to listen for words I understood: "(S)He... is... but... good... really?.. really!.."

Sure, it's not enough to effectively eavesdrop, but what hit me then, was that I had missed hearing Mandarin. This foreign language became... familiar.

When did that happen?

+

The Art of Familiarity

Today I met a student who has spent the last two years studying in Midwest America. There's only about a hundred Asians at her school. She told me that she feels the Asian community isn't understood or respected there. She feels like people don't like her and her friends.

This made me sad. When she told me she had plans to transfer to LA, I assured her she would be well-received there.

"Why?" I asked myself.

It's simple really: Familiarity.

In my life recently, I'm discovering it is easy for us - as people - to keep at a distance what (or who) we don't understand. It takes little effort to ostracize ourselves from others who are different. It's much easier to demonize something or someone we are never in contact with.

But if you take that gap away, perspectives change.

Not long back, I read a study that cited the only way to effective racial reconciliation was to put the contrasting groups in a situation where they were forced to work together to achieve a common goal.

Common goals.

Sometimes I fear we forget we have more in common than we'll admit. When we place our motivations and agenda over that of another, we risk losing sight of the other's humanity. That humanity includes Culture, Beliefs, Lifestyles, Priorities, and Habits that are no less worthy of respect than our own.

+

Tonight, I came across a new blog. It's not often that a mega-blogger impresses me with their content the way Chris has done. Not only does he take an Unconventional look at travel, but that uncoventionalism crosses over to every aspect of his life into what he calls, "The Art of Non-Conformity."

In a piece titled "28 Things I Wish I Knew Before I Started Traveling", Chris echoes the point above when he reasons:

"Most important: don’t be a colonialist... Don’t assume that your culture is superior. People are not stupid just because they don’t speak English or think like you do."

Now, I am not trying to advocate a wishy-washy "Everything's A-OK in my book", blind-and-postmodern look at the world. This planet wouldn't function without the right to agree to disagree. This isn't a plea to say everything's fine and should be fine with everyone.

But, it is to say things look different after conversation and true community. When that common ground is found, it is a lot harder to ostracize or demonize.

+

After 9 months of living my day-to-day in another culture, I've adapted. I'm conscious, now, of derogatory beliefs, jokes or broad-stroked and blind stereotypes made at this culture's expense, and even more subtle nuances like political climate.

I've experienced, first hand, reconciliation - the establishing of common ground - through the Art of Familiarity.

But what have I really learned if I take this lesson here, but ignore it in other aspects of my life?

So I find myself asking, "Who have I chosen to ostracize or ignore?" "How did it happen?" and "What can I do to reestablish community with that person or group?"

+

My ears are forever acclimated to Mandarin Chinese. No, I'm not fluent, but it's much less a foreign language now. The same goes for the culture and the people.

I hope I continue to grow in my understanding of this language and culture - both while I'm here in Taiwan, and after I return to my original familiarity.

Most of all, I hope this becomes a Habit. With all of me, I desire to practice this Art of Familiarity with all those I come to encounter on my journey.

Storms of Life

2009-06-07T05:08:00.006-07:00

Tonight, I was reminded of both the beauty and fragility of life.

Facebook is currently feeding me two stories from my friends' lives: the first "is celebrating our one year anniversary;" the other, "is celebrating 55 years." Today, a brother lost a father, and a fellow expat rejoices in her first year of marriage.

Life and Death; Death and Life.

Do I rejoice because he is no longer in pain? I want to. But there is still a dull ache in my heart. I'm hurting for those he left behind. I was hardly close to that family for long, but nonetheless, Chuck never hesitated to take me in as a son. He never hesitated to take in anyone. A true mentor, he spent his life reaching out to others, I have no doubt his passing will show it.

And what is this life-creating thing called marriage? It will be ages until I know it. Two people denying their own rights completely to unite with another completely. So wholely counter-cultural, so entirely foreign to our society, it's truly no wonder why so many don't last. Still others try. They press forward, celebrating the landmarks and facing the storms. Together.

But that's just it. Life will always have storms -- whether faced alone or with others.

In my culture, I fear that some people live their entire lives surrounded by people, yet facing their storms completely alone.

Independence

It's the concept that founded the United States; I fear, though, that it may also bring America's downfall. I return to the notion: "No Man is an Island." We are simply not meant to face Life's Storms alone.

I applaud Jon and Steph in their decision to recognize this; their lifelong commitment to Community by default. I pray their decision does not return void, and they live out their years in constant support of each other's conflicts and storms.

Likewise, I celebrate the 55 years of Chuck's life, along with his wife, his sons, and scores of family and friends that surround them now. I have no doubt right now they are being comforted by the life of love and community Chuck built around his family.*

I can't imagine the weight of the loss they now feel. My sincere hope and prayer is that they follow in Chuck's example, and know that - in even this - they do not and will not bear the burden alone.

Life is unexpected and unpredictable. It is full of storms of sorrow, and landmarks of joy. In a word: Life is a Journey.

And the Journey is the Destination.

Wherever you are in your Journey - be it tribulation or celebration - I pray you reach out to someone near you. Remind them, and yourself, the importance of the role they play in your life. Strengthen the community around you, and know they will persist to be there throughout the storms of life.

---------------------------------

(*It should be noted that my friend and brother, Jasen - Chuck's son - will be stepping into his own lifelong commitment to Community this Saturday, despite his current situation. Jasen, I love you, and wish I could be there to celebrate with you at the beginning of this new leg of your journey. I can't wait to return and meet Cari, and see your life together.)

Reasons I Miss the States - People, Ctd.

2009-05-31T01:04:00.005-07:00

From the Man with the Mustache who first inspired my "Reasons I Miss the States" column comes a new video filmed in and around Orlando, Fl:

going home from Luke St.Hilaire on Vimeo.

Reasons I Miss the States? No, it's not Orlando, Florida.
But it is definitely friends like Luke.

...and it's good to know I'm missed, too.

Lessons in Buddha's Method

2009-05-29T10:00:00.003-07:00

Lessons in Buddha's Method
Dissolving the Set - Part B
Find: Part A; Other Meditations

"This is why in Buddha's Method, we meditate." He continued along his broken-English thought stream from his mantra Happiness is Silence. Speaking to the Medicine Man is like reading the Tao: his language is simple, but if you search for depth, you'll find it.

"When I meditate, I know I am sitting in this chair. But in my mind," he moved his hand from his temple to his sternum, "I am in an empty room, not sitting on anything."

Eastern Tradition says the Mind is of the Heart, not the Brain.

"It is the Brain's way to have many troubles. But this is not true of the Mind." His fingers once again pressed towards his Heart. "The Mind and the Brain are different."

"If you taste a food and it's sour, your Brain reacts to the experience. Your Mind does not have this experience. After awhile, your Brain influences your Mind. The troubles of the Brain become a set and combine with the Mind. IN practicing Buddha's Method, we learn to -"

"Disolve the set." I interjected, finally understanding.

"Yes." he nodded softly, and smiled in resolve.

Lessons in Buddha's Method

2009-05-28T07:58:00.008-07:00

Lessons in Buddha's Method
Dissolving the Set - Part A
Find: Part B; Other Meditations

"I don't agree with what people say," he started, "Buddha's Method is a Science, not a religion." I had asked him to tell me more of Buddhism -- his favorite topic. When the Medicine Man talks Buddha, he is really teaching life.

"Like your God: When you experience His presence - in the room - that is not religion, that is Science. Buddha's Method is a process -- for all of life: happy, sad, sick, Time, Love.

"Let me say it this way. Your computer has a set process. Buddha's Method is to dissolve the set."

Nodding softly, I appreciated the effort. But it didn't become clearer until later...

"I do not like Taiwan's education. They destroy Creative Mind. They push only one answer until all are down one road. When students read a book, the teacher asks a question, but only accepts one answer. When I read, I see many answers!

"That's why I make sure my children play every day. My son plays with animals and insects. He feeds fish. And everyday, I ask him," the father turned to his 7 year old nearby, "Are you happy?" With a signature ear-to-ear grin, the boy shook his head in resolve.

"Happiness is most important in life," he stated in satisfaction.

"Buddha's Method is about happiness. The Psychology. It is basic Science. But people don't think so. As humans create more -- cars, TV, electric power, lights -- they think this is Happiness. But they forget; this is not real happiness. Happiness is Silence."

"I think today, people are afraid of Silence," I offered.

"Yes" he stated, nodding softly.

Chinese Proverb of the Day

2009-05-27T08:56:00.003-07:00

What Taiwanese Mothers Teach their Children

"Don't think too much."

-----------------------------------------------

A few words on this:

There are many cultural differences between Taiwan and the United States. Some are funny, some are strange, some are expected. This however, is the most foreign concept to me I've yet to encounter. Having always been encouraged to be a "Free Thinker", the idea of "too much thinking," or in reality, "stifling thought" is - to me - absolutely absurd.

When Taiwanese culture has the upper hand on America, I give it to them. Community, for example, is a concept the United States has just about forgotten. But I want to form Community that encourages thought and contemplation and questioning and innovation and creativity. I want to push past the norm for something new. I want to live amongst those willing to analyze and over-analyze all aspects of life; question, doubt, and feel safe doing so.

As I've found out, these concepts are inversely foreign to the Taiwanese. Maybe it's their cultural desire to identify within the group that has indoctrinated in them the idea that out-of-bounds thinking is dangerous.

Within my time here, I've purposefully sought to learn what I can from this foreign culture. Through encountering this "proverb" I've learned just how valuable an open and questioning mind is to my survival.

What's your take? Is thinking dangerous? Is there such a thing as "thinking too much"? What would be the situation where stifling thought is beneficial?

Creative Opportunities

2009-05-20T08:29:00.003-07:00

In the recent weeks, I've felt like my mind has been ablaze. Suddenly, it seems, I'm realizing how different I'm looking at the world since I landed here in Taiwan just under 9 months ago.
Without a doubt, I know living abroad has irreversibly changed me for the better - even if I can' t yet put to words exactly in what ways. Sometimes I doubt I'll ever be able.

In light of that, I have no option but to agree with the recent findings of two psychologists - as reported by Economist.com. Through their study of business students, the psychologists discovered that living abroad increases ones creative and problem solving abilities.

Now, I'm not claiming time abroad will catapult you into a Picasso or Hemingway - though both creators would wholly agree with the findings. But there is, according to this research, a direct connection to living in a foreign country, and stimulated creativity.

As I begin to plan my return back to the States, I am anxious to see how this new-found creativity will play out in my years. The experience I've gained in my time abroad will undoubtedly affect my entire life. This country, and its people, have inspired me to write and think differently than I ever have before, it's challenged my idea of status quo, and taught me more about my culture than I've learned in all my years living there.

I may not yet know how, exactly, this trip will affect me, but it's weeks like I'm having and articles like this one that only further confirm I made the right decision when I packed a suitcase and stepped onto that plane.

...Now if only I could create a route for the next chapter of my Journey.

(Hat Tip: Vagablogging.net : A terrific blog devoted to all things travel.)

Haircuts as a Multi-Cultural Experience

2009-05-18T18:22:00.002-07:00

Recently, the lady who cuts my hair asked me to find an English Name for her infant son, Rong-Zhi.

She said she didn't want a name that was too popular, or sounded old.

Since Taiwanese like to find names that sound similar to their Chinese name, I suggested Rain, and thought we would have a winner with that. She liked it because it's the same name as a famous South Korean singer and actor. But, her husband feared his mother-in-law wouldn't be able to pronounce it correctly. So we kept looking.

I pushed both "Romeo" and "Rufio" but those were a no-go.

We ended up settling on "Robbie". Seems a good, solid name, yea?

Around that time, a friend I made at the neighborhood tea stand (She's kind of the Taiwanese equivalent to a Starbucks Barista) asked me to help her find a new English name. She decided she didn't like "Polly" - the name her English teacher originally gave her.

She said she doesn't want anything too girly. I said I'll have to think about it.

I wonder if there's a business opportunity for me here? At any rate, do you have any suggestions or favorite names?

I hope I can do some good. I'm tired of meeting "Cherrys" and "Angels" ...

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

2009-05-13T17:27:00.007-07:00

Adventures in the Back of the Bus - The Thailand Edition.

Thailand proved to be quite adventuresome when it came to bus rides. Here's a recap of my encounters:

The Mini-Bus: In Bangkok, I stopped by a travel agent who booked me a "bus" ride from the city to Koh Samet. Sitting, waiting, I watched large, luxury cruisers pull in and out of the station. This was going to be nice. Around the time promised, the agent stood up, and said "Your bus is here." Innocently, I walked up to the luxury bus which sat directly outside the office. Four hours of this, it'll be a great ride. But the travel agent tapped me on the shoulder. "This, airport. You, there," he pointed across the busy street. My gaze followed his finger and halted at the sight of a minivan - or as he called it "Your minibus."

The ride was long, but fine. I met some great people on that ride down. We quickly bonded over shared stories of Asian travel - and surivial.

Bangkok was hot. Too hot. So hot that I couldn't eat lunch, and instead bought the largest water bottle I could find, and attempted to drown myself in it. This was fine, because the water never actually went into my stomach. No, before it sloshed down my throat, it was catipulted out every pore. But that changed in the bus. The bus had AC. I started to absorb the water, and my bladder began to revolt against me.

Needless to say, I was quite thankful when we parked for a planned pitstop. Apparently, so was everyone else. When I left the curtain-door restroom, I passed a line of my busmates who crawled out from the minivan seats behind me.

Browsing the refrigerators of this 7-11-styled open-air mini-mart, I decided to settle on ice cream. They picked a cold beer, but I had no interest in putting any more liquid in me for awhile. As we were sitting around a teetering table, one of us glanced over at a pile of luggage sitting on the driveway.

"Guys... I think that's our stuff."

It was. Our bags had been dumped at a roll-up mini-mart at least another hour's drive from our destination. Our driver was gone.

"How long do we wait past the time he said he'd be back before we start looking for another ride?"

Minutes crept by. But just about the time we were deciding how we could split a cab 8 ways, our minivan pulled up, and out poured around 20 people. Apparently he decided not to tell us he was involved in a bit of a search and rescue mission.

After he loaded the van back up, we piled in and made it to our destination without a hitch. My new friends continued to the island. I said goodbye, and hopped into a taxi for my beach-side hotel.

The "Taxi": The next day, at check out, I decided to follow my friends lead and head over to Koh Samet Island. The conciere called me a taxi - which was cheaper than the ride the night before, so I was thankful. But what pulled up was a small truck, with a tarp over the roof and minimally padded seats lining the bed's walls. The driver lowered the tailgate, tossed my bag in, and directed me inside. I felt like a refugee.

He knew my plan was to head to Koh Samet, so when he slowed to a stop, he pulled up in front of a pre-destined travel agent, who instantly bombarded me with "Koh Samet Ferry! Buy from us! Koh Samet Ferry! Come here, Come! Where you go?" The driver came around the truck and stood between me and my option of walking away. I put my backpack on, thanked him for the ride, and approached the Ferry-shouters. Their price was fair, so I hopped on the back of the motorcycle-shuttle who drove me down to the docks, climbed aboard the waiting ferry, and made it out to the island with a full day ahead of me, and a new friend Roger with a restaurant promising to store my bags and feed me.

The Bus: On the island, I found another travel agent - my third at this point. She sold me a minibus ticket - I knew what that meant - from the mainland to Bangkok for the same price I paid to get across to the island the day before. What a score! But I played it cool, acted like it was merely an "acceptable" price; I'd learned a thing or two about The Land of Swindlers. Then she asked if I had a ferry ticket yet. I didn't. I half expected her to now double the price, with maybe only a slight "package discount." She didn't. The price she offered was only one fifth of my ferry ride the day before. Altogether, I was paying less than I did just for the minibus from Bangkok to the beach town!

I didn't have a motor-shuttle this time round, so I boarded the ferry everyone else was boarding, and flashed my ticket to a ship hand, "This one?" He shook his head yes. I sat down next to my South Korean friends from the minibus down. They were headed back to bangkok as well. It wasn't long until the captain came around and told me and a couple others that our yellow tickets were actually for the ferry no one was on yet, hidden up at the front of the pier.

Figures.

I shrugged my shoulders, said goodbye to my friends, and marched my way towards "my ferry." On land, I found the mini-bus load-in, and searched for a bite to eat. I passed a restaurant and spotted another young, solitary traveler, and asked if the food was good. She was finishing her plate, but said it was, so I sat at an empty table to fill my stomach before the trek back.

By the time I finished, the rest of my new mini-bus mates had already piled in. Another giant waterbottle in hand, I set it, and my sunglasses, down to pick up my pack. Sadly, I never picked either up.

I loaded my gear, and crawled and clambered to the only available seat left... the back row. Though I had luggage on every side of me, I took advantage of the empty space, and stretched out a bit. Four hours of this? I could take it.

About 10 minutes down the road, however, we stopped. Did we break down? Another search and rescue? No, even better.

I glanced behind me. Lo and behold, there was the giant luxury bus, just like I'd seen going to the airport. To my excitement, the driver unloaded our gear, and loaded it into the bus. I said goodbye to the world of Thai Mini-Bussing for the last time, and said hello to traveling with style.

Since the luxury liner was already partially filled with other travelers, I decided not to go to the aft or top deck, but move forward. Good choice. I scored a seat in the very front, which allowed me to kick up my feet and sleep for the first leg of the trip.

Maybe a half hour down the road, we stopped at another mini-mart. There, I replaced my giant bottle with a new one, and sat down next to the traveler I kept bumping into. We talked while the driver stalled for time. I knew she wasn't in the premium seats like I was, so I invited her to sit next to me. She introduced herself as Camille, and said she was from Quebec. We passed the time sharing stories of her three months in Bangkok, Laos, and Vietnam; of my 8 months in Taiwan. All the while, our feet up, riding in style. The bus parked half a block from my hotel where we stored our bags then hit the streets for some last minute shopping.

Overall, I have to say my Thailand bus experiences were frankly, less than orthodox. Though, I may have feared for my life in the refugee truck, or thought I'd been stranded by the soccer-mom bus, each trip got me to my destination safely, and on time. I met terrific people along the way, and made some friendships and contacts that will continue long after we've left the Land of Smiles.

Nonetheless, it was quite comforting to be back in my big green bus, after I landed in Taipei and rode home.

That's a Lotta Buddha

2009-05-08T05:51:00.003-07:00

Wat Pho, Temple of the Reclining Buddha
Bangkok, Thailand

Good Sounds, Cont'd.

2009-05-07T20:00:00.000-07:00

I've written about the Taiwan Music Scene before. Here's a video from one of the rising "Indie Artists" on the island.

Thailand Photo Reel - Koh Samet

2009-05-07T08:29:00.007-07:00

Two days is simply not long enough to spend on the small paradise-like island of Koh Samet. White sands demand more attention than a short weekend can provide.

The Island's National Park has plenty for the explorer in you - that is, if you can pull yourself out of the water. Stepping into the wake is like having your mother set your bathwater to just the temperature your baby-bum required.

At night, walk the beach in the dim light of the stars. Stop by to meet fellow vacationers at one of the dozens of restaurant/bars, and you may find an empty lounge cushion on the sand with a view of the nightly beach-side fire show.

Just outside the National Park's beach, on the main drag of Koh Samet, you'll find a small host of restaurants, guest houses, and massage shops - offering authentic Thai massage. (Note: If you're in Thailand, a Thai Massage is a must.)

Now, if you do find yourself on Koh Samet, be sure to stop in at the Red Ginger. Only open a month's time, the Red Ginger is the retirement project of Roger, a Canadian who left the world of broadcasting, and pursued traveling. Of all the places in the world he's been, he's now calling Koh Samet home. I met Roger on the ferry ride to the island, and he immediately invited me to his restaurant and home. We shot the warm island breeze over the entree he selected for me. Undoubtedly, Roger has a place on my list of favorite fellow travelers I found in this Land of Smiles. When you go, try the Chicken in Mushroom Sauce, you won't be disappointed.

After 8 months in urban Taiwan, the cluster and crowd of Bangkok grew stale fast. Koh Samet proved to be my true vacation spot on this trip. Before leaving, I knew I would one day return. The paradise of Samet Island is one that beckons you to sit and stay awhile. And on my next trip, that's just what I'll do.

The Land of Swindlers

2009-05-06T06:02:00.004-07:00

If the best part of Thailand is the people I met, than the worst part is the people I encountered.

Thailand is a country of con-artists and swindlers. Before I arrived, I read up on the street scams aimed at travelers. In short, a conman, posed as a friendly face, guides foreigners to a jewelery store or tailor where they are forced (sometimes even threatened) into buying over-priced or worthless merchandise. Constantly, I was forced to turn people down, tell them no, refuse their requests. It came to a point where I trusted no one. If they looked like they had something to sell, or wanted to drive me "wherever I want" (yeah, right), I avoided them like the plague.

Even to a fault. They tended to point the opposite direction from where you're going and say "Oh, such and such is over there" just so that you'd pause and rethink your steps - this allowed them an opportunity to approach you and chat you up "Hey man, where you going? Where you from, my friend?" I learned their methods early on, and began waving them off and plodding along in my path. Well, more than once, they were actually pointing me in the right direction. After choosing not to listen to them, I ended up walking through the "Thai-only" entrance of a temple. Whoops. So much for respecting culture.

Along a Bangkok walkway, minding my own business, a bird lady shoved three baggies of what looked like trail mix between my back and my bag.

"You have, it's good! Thailand" and other broken-English phrases were spat in my direction. I thanked her for the munchies without breaking my pace.

"No! Look!" She grabbed a bag, opened it, and poured it into my hands. Corn kernels? Instantly, my feet were flogged by every Bangkok pigeon in a mile radius.

"Oh, I get it now." Before I could process that single thought, three more bags were poured into my hands. Braver Birds were on my arms and wrists. I tried to walk away. Another bird-lady dumped her corn nut baggy into my open, flat, spread-finger palms. I turned my hands over. I was done.

"one fifty! one fifty!" the first spat harshly. She counted her empty bags, and demanded near $20US. At this point, I was tired of this city's swindlers. I was angry. I matched her harsh tone, and pleaded American ignorance. Begrudgingly, I reached in my pocket and pulled out a few bucks ("fool me once, shame on me...") and dropped them into her hand - pocketing the rest while she grasped for more. I was done. Walking away, I could hear the bird ladies holler and squabble like the pigeons at their feet. That's okay, I wasn't about to turn back.

But that wasn't all. I bartered taxis and knick-knacks. I saw the price for food and drinks change faster than I could turn around. Two times at 7-11, I was over-charged for a Big Gulp because it had Thai Tea in it rather than soda. When I called them out on the price change, the cashier shook their head and insisted on their price.

I don't enjoy bartering. I don't enjoy feeling like I have to swindle a few bucks out of people, or that I can't trust a conversation with anyone.

It's funny how the best thing and the worst thing can be the same thing. It's funny how even though the people I met were the highlight of my trip, it was people who made me reconsider my decision to come to Thailand at all.

In the end, though, I feel like I learned some - about myself, and about culture around me. I've never been great at having to say no to people, but I think I learned how this weekend. The fact is, we can't get away from people in this life - be it con-artists or honest fellow travelers. The ability to tell apart the swindlers from the fellow drifters is a skill worth cultivating when navigating through life.

The Land of Smiles

2009-05-05T02:53:00.008-07:00

Sunday, I returned from Thailand. It was an incredible trip, I'm already planning my return. I feel as though the purpose of this visit was simply to inform me of all that I have yet to see.

I would love to pack my new backpack and set off for a month or more. There's so much to see, so much to do, and so many amazing people to meet.

On a bus ride, I met a girl from Quebec who has been backpacking alone for 3 months, simply because she yearned for adventure before entering University. Camille and I talked for hours, got off the bus, shopped, ate dinner, and talked more. Her trip came to an end today. Knowing this, I spent much time quizzing her on her experience and lessons learned and favorite moments. She spoke of trekking through Vietnam and Laos and Thailand; river rafting, bus trips, and hill tribes; temples, water fights and friendly faces; and most of all the confidence a journey like this brings. Before she finished speaking, I knew I would return to this region.

After a night in Bangkok, I was ready to leave the smoggy congestion of Urban Metropolis, and found myself on a bus trip to a small island called Koh Samet. Yet to be flogged by foreign tourists, Koh Samet is not more than a National Park situated on a quiet island.

The bus ride down proved to be another great meeting place for fellow travelers. Sitting next to me were a brother and sister from South Korea - whom I later met up with when back in Bangkok. The rest of the mini-bus was filled by two young ladies from London, a German fellow - who has been traveling in Asia for months - and two South Africans now teaching in Bangkok. That group bonded quickly, and I stumbled upon their beach bash and spent my second evening away from the city with my new global comrads.

While out with a group of local Thai, I met a young girl, a street vendor named Lookrnam. She was incredibly cute. She sold packages of gum. Though I don't chew gum, I bought several. She sold roses. I bought a few of those, too, and distributed each to my new Thai friend Oum - it was her birthday - and her friends. Every night, Lookrnom hits the congested, touristy streets of Bangkok to sell her knick-knacks. Despite her situation, she wore a bright smile that lightened the dark midnight streets. Thailand is dubbed "The Land of Smiles" and no one embodied this to me more than Lookrnam. After 20 minutes of losing at Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lookrnam stretched my hand out and tied on a braided string bracelet. She told me she wanted me to remember her. Having nothing to give in return, I pulled out my journal, tore out a sheet, and wrote her a note. Though her spoken English is more than adequate, Oum translated the written text to Thai. Lookrnam hugged me and thanked me with her signature smile.

One last chance encounter, and the highlight of the trip: With a little planning and strategic schedule shuffling, I was able to see my dear Floridian friend, Cathy. Around the time I moved out of the State, and back to California, she moved to South Korea to teach English. Since my arrival to South East Asia, we've been tentatively scheming a plan to get together. But a few months ago, she up'd and moved to Thailand. This worked perfectly for our scheming and we enjoyed a great breakfast on two stools at a stand on a street corner. Cathy's perspective on Thai food is "The crappier the place looks, the better the food is." When we selected where we'd eat, the only comment I could muster was "I bet the food's fantastic."

Due to an early flight, our time together was brief. (And due to the fact that I forgot my watch was set an hour earlier to Taipei time, our visit was even briefer.) But it was a treat to see her, nonetheless.

The next few posts will be further expansion on my trip. But, as you know with me, people come first. This trip was too short. Thailand is a beautiful country, with too much to see and do. But by far, what I enjoy most about traveling is the people you meet along the way. They inspire and reaffirm you in your journey - just by watching them in theirs. Whether your time together is a bus ride covering a vast expanse of land or breakfast on the corner; whether you divulge in the adventures of life, or simply share a smile, their presense in your journey is invaluable.

Leaving on a Jet Plane or Vacation Location or "Oh, you're American, aren't you?"

2009-04-28T11:48:00.004-07:00

After much debate on my Vacation Location, I have finally decided. Tomorrow, I'll be hopping on a plane to Thailand. The riots have subsided, and so as long as I don't bring a bright yellow t-shirt or let my red boxers show a bit too much, I should be fine. I'll be spending some time at the beach, too, while I'm there. Looking forward to the opportunity to stretch my legs off the island for a bit. Updates, stories, pictures, and possibly video upon my return to Taiwan.

PS: To those (Americans) wondering, no Taiwan and Thailand are not the same thing.
And people wonder why we ex-pats need to write blog entries like this one. Let's just say I've shared some of Reannon's discomfort in being overly simplified and patronized as a poor dumb American. Working on fixing that.

*Picture: California Coastline on my flight to Taiwan 09/08

Chinese Proverb of the Day

2009-04-23T21:56:00.003-07:00

What Taiwanese Mothers Teach their Children

"To show thanks to the farmers, eat all your rice.
If you don't, you'll marry an ugly husband."

Photo of the Day

2009-04-22T20:06:00.002-07:00

Kaohsiung, Taiwan

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

2009-04-18T10:43:00.004-07:00

This is where I share the [mis]adventures of traveling in the Taichung City Public Transit System.

This is no ordinary edition of Adventures in the Back of the Bus; nay, this is famed column and my first vlog. Yes, this Adventure was so grand, it deserved a vlog.

Adventures in the Back of the Bus from Chase on Vimeo.

I apologize for the constant close-ups of my chin. The thought was the closer I kept my mouth to the built in mic, the more likely you would be able to hear my play-by-play narration above the noise. Don't worry, I know I'm no Colin Cabalka (just like I'm no Jered Scott Photographer) (shameless plugs for my friends). This was my first attempt at this nifty little toy.

I shot some footage of driving through the city. If I have time to clean it up (and if it proves worth anything), I'll post it in the next few days. It'll likely include a couple minute conversation in mandarin with the bus driver?

Thanks for riding along.

Easter in Taiwan, or Translation Please?

2009-04-15T10:26:00.007-07:00

I trust everyone had a great Easter! What are some of the traditions you all carry on (where ever you are)? You don't realize the little rituals you'll miss until you're away.

My Easter was pleasantly Bunny free, but I did manage to eat a full-fledged Easter brunch.

A week prior, my pastor and his wife invited me over after Easter-Sunday church. I don't think I've written about my church here before, but I've been attending there since the first month I was in Taiwan. The building (and their home) is almost directly outside of my house. It takes me a whole of 30 seconds to get there by foot.

My pastor and his family are mid-western Americans. Though they've lived in Taiwan for many years, and their kids have never lived in the States, they still cling to American Traditions. Humorously so. Their 10 year old calls me David Cook (surprisingly, my "nick name" back home...).

But they've been a (dareisay) Godsend at a few points during my trip, and have always heartily opened their doors to me.

There's also a group of 20Somethings (no, not that one) that meets on Tuesday Nights. A lively bunch I've certainly grown to love. We had a get-together last Tuesday and they invited some more friends than the typical weekly crew.

They asked me if I would speak. I thought it funny considering my language of choice wasn't theirs, but they didn't seem fazed. They wanted to know my story: what it was like growing up in the church in America, and what made me come to Taiwan. (Church talk, we call this a "testimony") So I obliged.

It took some coaxing, but my friend Ring (an adorable Taiwanese girl who loves art and music, teaches, and does Amway part time) agreed to translate. Even though I tried to phrase things in a way that would be easy to interpret, I didn't realize how funny we Americans talk. Let's just say it took more than one draft.
Ring (that's her English name) did a fantastic job, and was even quick enough to impromptu when I strayed from the script. She let me know, though. A glance at the sheet, a glare at me, and a swat at my arm was enough to tell me I needed to get back on track. I threw "No Man is an Island" at her. Oh boy, that was a doozey. Luckily, some listening were familiar with the phrase. But she was a champ. And it was a fun night. I'm glad they talked me into it :)

Adventures Abroad

2009-04-10T22:09:00.013-07:00

It hit me recently that I haven't written about Hong Kong.

That's mostly because there isn't too much to say. I needed to stretch my legs a bit, so I took an overnight trip off the island. Hong Kong is a beautiful metropolitan city, and a thriving young professional's paradise. (you can see them strut the streets in their Louis Vuitton Prada and Gucci.

I spent most my day through the halls of the malls, and strolling the street markets and pausing along the boardwalk that lines the harbor. It was a great trip, almost two months ago now.

That said, I hope to visit a few more countries while stationed in this corner of the world. I consider my fellow drifters (yep, any of you reading this) to be a well traveled, diverse group. So I'm looking for your input.

Any thoughts on what countries I should visit? Unfortunately Europe, Russia, and the States are probably out of the question. . .(sorry guys) but how about East Asia?

Let me know what you think!

Picture and Updates

2009-04-10T09:30:00.003-07:00

A few of you have commented on the new layout of the blog, and yes, I did take the picture and make the banner. I created the banner with a program called Gimp, which is fantastically free. Photoshop for poor people (read: me). A great blog, I Can't Save Money, directed me there a couple months ago (for other poor people: check out the blog, it's a great find). Gimp is perfect for those who enjoy touching up pictures, but have no business pursuing photography/design professionally (read: me, again).

The photo is from the local temple. I've written of another temple before, but this one is beautiful, and rich with history. A great place to visit if you're in the city.

One last thing. On the subject of bookstores, I found a shop that sells works in English! It's amazing. Now, I honestly believe I have more books here in Taiwan than they do a selection (despite their 4 floors of shelf room), but I'll take what I'm given. (Heaven on Earth? Maybe.) I picked up a book. No, it wasn't The Dark Knight paperback- though that was an option. Instead, I opted for Tuesdays with Morrie, a book that's been on my list to read for years. I've never met someone who had read that book that I didn't like. Plus it was small and light. Lighter than a t-shirt light.

Everything I do from this point on, I've got to keep airport baggage in mind.
Home Stretch.

Stand by Me.

2009-04-09T09:28:00.003-07:00

Some posts don't need lengthy explanations. I'll let the song speak for itself. If you know my blog, you know what I'd say.

This is beautiful.
I have a lot of you on my mind tonight.

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

2009-04-05T02:17:00.003-07:00

Since my Withdrawal from Mandarin Class, I am in the back of the bus much less frequently.

Today, however, I decided to make my way to the Department Store (12 stories high, mind you) for the Japanese food display. There's never a complaint about sampling squid or abalone!

When I found my way to the stop, I made eye contact with a Taiwanese girl near my age. The bus slowed and stopped, and we both moved for the entrance. As she gripped the handle, about to step on board she asked, "Where are you come from?" "Uhh-merica," was my slightly taken-aback reply.

We moved to the back of the bus (my resident location) and sat near each other; her, one seat in front of me. She turned back and made small talk. We exchanged names, and purposes for being on the bus. Where we've traveled, what we do. She asked what State I'm from: "California."

"I know California because 'White'."
"Californiaa.. white?"
"Whi-... It's purple."
"California Purple White?"
"No, no.. uh, Nappa..."
"Oh, Wine. Yeah." I wondered if she wanted to hint at something.
"I don't drink wine."
"Oh, well.. that's good." Guess not.

The bus neared my stop and I hit the button to alert the driver. "Well, it was nice to meet you."

"Well, that was harmless," I thought, "A perfectly normal single-serving friend."

Oh the Joys of Travel.

Bookstores and Packages

2009-04-04T18:08:00.007-07:00

Bookstores.

I have a love-hate relationship with them here in Taiwan. Actually, walking into a bookstore here is what I would imagine Purgatory feels like.

When I walk through the door, I'm greeted by the familiar faces of Obama, Trump, and Joel Osteen. I nod their way. Turning to the high-stacked shelves, I let my fingers run over the crisp spines with a little too much excitement. A staircase leads to a second, AND a Third FLOOR!

This is Heaven.

But then I reach for a book. Dismay, shock, horror! Flipping it open, I see nothing but various scratch marks lined up in a row. This isn't right! I can't read a thing!

Furiously, frantically, I search for a legible book. Through the shelves, up the stair case, around the third floor, nothing. Desperate, I race back to the familiar photos. Joel Osteen, I grimace. Instead I reach for Obama. More doodles.

This isn't Heaven.

I'm not there yet.

So needless to say, I have to find other ways to quench my literary thirst. When I was packing, seven months ago, I had a feeling this would be the case, so I brought a fair share of books. This helps, yes, but I've torn my way through most of them, and occassionally look for another. I have to slow down though, I have not a clue how I will carry all this weight home.

Regardless, a couple weeks ago I discovered a new book, and caved.

I found said book by finding the Author, John Roger Schofield. I found said Author by the band he plays in, The Myriad.

Having been a frequent-listener of said band, I was familiar with John's writing style and his love for literature, but I had no idea he was published. I wrote him, and through a string of emails, he offered to send me out a copy personally rather than have me wade through international shipping with Amazon or the like. Thanks to PayPal, he quickly and efficiently received my payment, and a week later I received a package. Inside: Push My Life into a Duffle Bag.

A week (and change) later, I completed the novel, much to my delight.

The first chunky chunk of the book I would consider a caricature of growing up in the U.S. Push My Life is the story of a boy brought up in a small hick-town in Northern California. Though my town was nothing like his, and my family much less fragmented, I found myself relating to the character, seeing the events of his upbringing transpose into my life. If you grew up in the States, it's hard not to relate to this young boy in some ways. Through trial and travail, masochism and monotony, the story follows the boy's journey into manhood. It's looking back to see where we've been that shows us who we are.

However, Push My Life is not for the faint of heart. Schofield wields a myriad vocabulary. I say "myriad" for two reasons: 1) it's the name of his band, and 2) within the 261 pages, it popped up at least a dozen times. Do I believe it was some sub-conscious plug for his bands new cd? Not at all. There's nothing about the book, bio, or author photo, that says "I'm that one guy from that one band." If anything, I would imagine it's like an inside joke with "the guys" whenever they can weave "Myriad" into their sentences. I know a few band-guys: inside jokes like that are gold. Besides... it's a great word.

Band-humor aside, the vocabulary truly is extensive. One that proves a love for the English language, and simultaneously knows life's adversities demand the weight of choice words. Pain is real in life, and candid in both this boy's journey, and our own.

But journeys are lived forward - through muck and mire. And this one ends in a tale of beautiful hope and forgiveness - essential mysteries in this life.

If you, as I do, recognize life is a journey and have learned to celebrate its triumphs and mourn its trials, you'll find common ground with the young Protagonist. Push My Life into a Duffle Bag is nothing more than a story of the journey of life. It's humanity in all its depravity and mystery. It's something we all know a bit about - and I for one am pushing to learn more every day. Books like this only assist in finding new perspective.

John Roger was a saint for saving me from the vast halls of purgatory. His novel is well crafted, and I hunger in anticipation for his next work. (forsooth!) Though, next time, we'll likely skip the international shipping...

Update from "The Air"

2009-04-01T00:05:00.003-07:00

If you haven't heard quite yet, there's a bit further explanation concerning my previous post here.

I appreciate all of your concern during this time. And hope you have a beginning to your month of April, wherever you may be.

Don't worry, I'll continue blogging.

(Nothing wrong with having a little fun on this Journey...)

_________________________

Further Updates:

Comments from Irreconcilable Differences that weren't immediately posted:

Floreta (though half-comment gullible) figured it out:

whoa! i had no idea. but i'm sure your journey is far from over.

peace,
floreta

ps: shoot, it's april 1st isn't it? am i gullible??

And Yazz figured it out, but it took her two comments. The second, here:

Also, you do realize this is kind of unbelievable since it is April Fools Day in Taiwan....

I hope no one minded if I indulged myself in a little Western-Culture Trickery. I asked around, and there's only a vague notion that today is considered "Lying Day" to Foreigners. I guess that's what today was: I lied.

I do look forward to seeing you all. Soon, or September.

It's just that I couldn't resist taking advantage of my being in the future.

Irreconcilable Differences

2009-03-31T10:07:00.001-07:00

Irreconcilable Differences.

I often wondered if I would last the full year here in Taiwan. And if I didn't, what the circumstances would be for me to head back "early".

Well, after 7 long months, this is what it's come down to. I can't, well, shouldn't go into detail about what those differences are. This isn't the place to hash out dirty laundry. But it was sudden, mostly.

I'm writing from in the air. Ecstatic to see you all soon.

What a Journey it's been.
-Chase

I Can See Clearly Now...

2009-03-29T18:15:00.007-07:00

Last weekend, I took a trip to the night market. After one bus and one taxi ride there, I ate way too much ice cream, personally added to my wardrobe for the first time in 6 and a half months, walked around for hours on end.

And I bought *these. New Glasses.

Night Markets are great because you can do things like knock $1000 bucks off the price of something right after the salesperson tells you they'll cut the ticket in half.

I've never had glasses before. Buying them here was a matter of cost efficiency. When I told someone here that I bought them because objects (mostly words) in the distance were beginning to become a bit more blurry, they asked if I was getting old. I chuckled. But then I thought, our culture really fears age, doesn't it? It's strange, but I think I'm looking forward to it.

I know this sounds crazy, but I am anticipating growing older. I can't yet imagine me or my life at 50 - or 70 - but I want to get there. Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking forward to dementia or Alzheimer's that may follow in the years after that point, but last week I smiled into the mirror, and saw lines across my forehead. Then I smiled wider. It made me wonder what the next 30 years will bring. And then the 30 to follow.

In Taiwan, they still care about looking young and youthful, but it's different. People grow old gracefully here. I can't say the same about too many people I know in California. There's much less emphasis on de-aging procedures and operations and over the counter/under the jacket products. Beyond that, people value the aged. Youth are taught to respect and look up to and admire them. Though I don't plan to worship my ancestors by burning paper money, and offering a table of fruit that doesn't get eaten, I do hope to value the wisdom that comes with age while I have it around me.

If I live out all my years, I've only just rounded the first quarter. Some would say that these are the best years of my life, but that just feels dismal. Despite the blurriness of what's to come - dementia or sage wisdom - I hope to look back at any point and say "This [the then-"now"] is the best time of my life." I want my life to be like wine. I don't want to live perpetually backwards. Because Life is a Journey, but backwards is the only direction we can't go.

*Picture taken at Retro Mojo.

Withdrawing from Class, Classmate Withdrawls...

2009-03-29T05:52:00.006-07:00

For the past 4 months, I had been studying Mandarin at a local university. We had a small class, but at 15 hours a week, we bonded quickly. Though there were two other Westerners, I was the only American. Using Chinese as our strongest common language, I communicated with my classmates the best we could. Nonetheless, they were an encouraging, enjoyable bunch. It's nice to have my mornings off, but I do miss them.

Thankfully for email and BabelFish, we're able to keep in touch, and hope to get together soon.

We had a lot of fun in our 4 short months together.

Here's a few pictures to glance back at the past.

Most of the Crew

Learning the Art of Tea Kung Fu
(no, really, that's what it's called)

Outside the Tea House

We like pictures.

We had the chance to learn how to paint "New Year's Pictures" with a group of other classes

We also were able to make little figurines out of rice flour.

He didn't survive the bus ride home.
R.I.P.

Our Last Class Outing was on Taiwanese Opera
which somehow translated into learning how to use the Spear...

Doing what I do...

That's my Teacher (老師) lounging for the jugular
...I think he failed the last test. . .

It's a good crew, and I definitely miss seeing them on a daily basis

Maybe, you should practice...

2009-03-28T05:53:00.003-07:00

"Maybe, you should practice..."

It was a kind suggestion, meant to be encouraging and innovative, coming from the Trumpet player about my age who was leading the woodwind group. And I was in the back. Tinker-toys and tambourines surrounding me. If I knew what I was doing, I would look impressive. Cymbal, Gong, Mallet, other Mallets, Triangle (ah, the Triangle). At first glance, I'm almost convincing.

But then there's the new instrument, propped on the stand, between me and the other stand holding the pieces of paper that should be telling me what I should be doing.

Don't get me wrong. My Triangle nowadays isn't half bad, and my finger-cymbals are improving. But the bongos. I shouldn't touch the bongos with a ten-foot pole, least of all with my novice, unsteady palms. The nine year old on the xylophone to my right would school me for sure. For sure.

The score for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon looked like the heart monitor for a recently-revived ER patient. I couldn't make sense of it at all. Some one resuscitate me; my hands aren't moving.

I mean this was Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon! THE Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon! The same one I saw performed just two months earlier. The one with the big orchestra, and the rocks and THE GUY. He probably could hear me butcher his bongos.

We're not even going to talk about my work on Under the Sea.

They haven't told me yet, but I have an inkling suspicion that in a matter of weeks, they will tell me I have another performance in a matter of weeks.

Maybe you should practice. I wanted to slap him across his trumpet blowing cheeks.

I didn't.

Want to slap him, that is. He was right. I would quite enjoy adding "bongo player for Crouching Tiger Score" to my expat-brewed Resume. We'll see. Changing Habits, right?

Anyways, I've had these videos for awhile. I guess now's as good a time as ever to post them. This is the result of my not-practicing (much) last semester. I think, at the time, my strategy was to play low-key-like and maybe no one would notice me. The 4-angle camera shoot proved me wrong there. Thanks guys. Pick on the big awkward white guy. Easy target.

Don't listen too hard... and try to look away some when you watch. kay, thanks.

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

Various Standard Disney Hits for any Youth Orchestra

And last but not least...

Blauen Donau featuring the Prima Ballerina from Orange County, California (AKA Little Sister)

At least the cameras made her look good.

Where is your attention? (Where is your wealth?)

2009-03-16T01:24:00.000-07:00

It doesn't matter where you are - the US, Europe, Taiwan - the bleak state of the international economy has everyone's attention.

In the face of Global Economic Depression, we First-World, Middle-Class Americans must keep a healthy perspective on our condition.

Social Intelligence is described as the ability to understand social situations and managing oneself successfully.

Through a conversation with a student here in Taiwan, I came to realize today just how fitting that definition is in our current fiscal fiasco.

What are we doing to manage ourselves successfully? Yes, this means Nationally, but when it's answered on a personal scale, it sheds clear light onto our priorities.

We feel as though our cozy way of life is threatened, but what about those around us?

According to *Global Rich List, I am the 773,071.647th richest person in the world.
That's in the top 13%.

That means 87% of the world is in a worse-off financial situation than I am. What am I doing with my wealth? What choices am I making to give a hand up to those within my reach. And let's be honest here. What is keeping me from answering these questions honestly?

RICHER THAN YOU THINK?

How do you feel about that? A bit richer we hope. Richer and ready to give some of your newly found wealth to those who need it most. It not hard - just slip your hand in your pocket and pull out something special. Something that can help redress the balance - and also make you feel uncommonly good. Many peoples lives could be happier if you donated just one hour's salary (approx $6.41 - UK estimate).

All you have to do is make a choice.

What are the choices that we're making?

"But I don't know any poor people!"

That may be too true. Today, I heard someone challenge:

"Isn't most of your life people you like who like you? We rarely have space or margin for those who are different."

How many times do we pass the opportunity to create change, our margins held closely at our sides? Blinders over our eyes keep us from the expanse of the horrizons.

In response to a recent post a friend from a netherland (lame joke), Renée, pointed me towards a video that has served as a reminder to all of this. I love art that points us to a bigger picture. Art that is inspiring, challenging, and convicting all at the same time.

May we learn to expand our horizons.

May we keep the perspective of the great wealth we have by keeping our attention in the right place.

May we "be the change we hope to see in the world."

______________________

*I had come across this site before, but was brought to it this time by a Facebook Friend named Brandt Russo. Brandt's the type of guy you write books about, not blogposts. And if he doesn't get to writing a book soon, I'm flying to Louisiana to give him a good shaking. Brandt's an ordinary radical, as accurately as the term has been coined. Arrested for wanting to talk to a pastor about helping the homeless, Brandt is one of the few crazy-dangerous people in the world that take seriously what Jesus said about selling all your possessions to give to the poor and remembering the marginalized in society. Check out his website for more information on his on-the-road ministry/nonprofit "Can't Ignore the Poor".

______________________

Also, Thanks to those of you who helped reach the goal of purchasing 10 Mosquito Nets for 10 Families in Africa. You know who you are. Nothing But Nets
Now it's time for me to lower my own mosquito net, and drift off to sleep. Thanks for reading.

More Mojo, Please

2009-03-14T05:44:00.000-07:00

Amongst an unassuming strip mall, besides a well trafficked Taichung street, less than 3 blocks away from a crowded Starbucks stands a two story coffee shop that most walker-by would not give more than a second look. However, those willing to take that second look, may be drawn into the throws of Retro Mojo Cafe by it's welcoming sign posted on its door: Push Yo!

It's Saturday night, and the Mojo is at capacity. When I followed the instructions on the door, I was greeted by a chic little barrista who asked me if I had a reservation. That's odd, I thought. But clearly, there was no room around the stage. She offered the staircase. It's her favorite place to watch the show. Firecodes need not apply.

Saturday night is music night here at Retro Mojo. And the Taichung Hipsters apparently have come out of the wood work to fill the bottom floor of this vintage-themed cafe. Chucks and Boots, Leather Jackets, V-Neck Shirts, Tight Jeans, and even multi-colored hair. How have I been here 6 months and not known about this?

I opted out of crowding the walkway. The barrista ushered me up the staircase lined with books, magazines, and vintage vinyl to claim the last empty spot at the laptop bar. An aspiring photographer took aim at frames hanging on the walls. Emphasis on art is a clear trademark of this establishment.

There might be nothing better to prove this than Retro's support of Taichung's local Musicians, and its cultivation of a local scene. As I type, the floorboards are vibrating to the sound of an acoustic funk-blues duo. The jean-clad American with his Scott Stap locks and matching lead vocals leads the group with sure-strummed guitar; his Taiwanese Companion provides rhythmic support with Cajon-based percussion. The duo are rarely out of sync. If I had one critique, though, it would be simply: "Less talk, more rock." As most competant-fish-in-small-pond beatnics are, this group's frontman is quite contemptious of the intricacies of his art.

"If you're having trouble clapping to this next song, it's because it starts out in 9, then goes to 4, but it's also in 11, 19, and 17."

(I'm not kidding. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not.)

Time-signatures aside, the group has been great company, thus far. Live, home-grown originals beats out Karaoke and regurgitated pop-songs any day. And despite what you may think, flange is necessary on every acoustic song played. (Ok, there I was kidding.)

Complementing the artful decor, Mojo sets out to be intentional in keeping this place running. Earth, that is. Menues are fashioned from twine and recycled cardboard, and slipped into an egg-carton cover. Even the flush-free urinal is green-friendly. Fluent in Mandarin? Check out the section on their website addressing Sustainability.

If the ambience of Retro Mojo Cafe isn't enough to draw you in, the espresso menue is quite extensive. And If you're not one to enjoy your music served with a roast, there is even a cafe-sized Beer and Wine list. If you're hungry, I'd suggest the paninis. But if you're planning on joining us for Saturday Night's tunes, get here early: music starts (promptly) at 8, and the seats fill up fast.

The wait-staff are not only professional, but competent. Fluent in both Mandarin and English, their ready and equipped to cheerfully welcome all who step through Mojo's doors. But expect more than a friendly smile, they're each knowledgeable about the contents of their menue, and - coming from a seasoned Barrista - quite capable behind the counter. Case-in-point: the ability to craft a perfect Creme-heart with every flavo

I hope "Retro" is a trend in the making here in Taichung. With an emphasis on intentional sustainability, and cultivated art, Mojo Cafe is a city attraction worth writing home about.

The Journey is [Still] the Destination, or "And Here We Go" Again

2009-03-08T09:04:00.000-07:00

The passing of this week marks the passing of the 6-month sign post here in Taiwan. This is a big one for me, as it marks the half way point of my overseas journey (if everything goes according to plan, but I've learned to not put much stock in "plans". More on learning in a moment).

I commemorated this evening by spending time browsing through all my previous entries on this blog. It was fun to see where I'd come from. Electronic-pages of a well-loved journal, the posts brought back memories of when the look and feel and smell of this place was new. Earlier, I passed by the cafe where I ate my first breakfast in Taiwan, and I was instantaneously transposed to that bright September morn when the streets and faces were so foreign - and not familiar as they've become.

It's different now. Though I dare not call it home, this place is comfortable. Familiar. It struck me that I'll find it odd not to see street signs full of over-sized Chinese Characters when I return back to the States.

One of my Taiwanese family members commented to me today over our lunch of rice, rice soup, seaweed, and some sauteed veggies. She said "Before, everyone asked you 'Are you adjusting alright? What do you think of Taiwan so far?' But now, they will start asking you, 'Are you ready to go home? What will you do when you get back to the States?'"

She's right. That has started to happen. And you know what? I am ready to go home. But I'm prepared to stay, too. I committed to myself one year, and I think there's some amount of honor sticking with that. I hope there is.

Some things still feel the same here. I still feel perpetually on display (though, my suspicion was right, I am growing tired of it). And being on the road still scares me witless.

But things are changing, too. For the first time since I've been here, people are telling me I'm losing weight (See #s 4 and 5). More than one person even! Today, a different member of my Taiwanese family told me "You are very handsome! Before, no. Too," (her hands made a wide spread motion in front of her cheeks) "too fat. But now [*thumbs up*] good." I haven't lost more than 2 kilos, but it hasn't been on accident.

It may have taken me 5 months, but my notion to form conscious habits began to take off. In the past month, it's been as though a dam has broken in my life. I'm purposeful about how I live and think. Long gone is that $9 Beverly Hills Light-up Pen, but the lesson I learned even then has remained (you better believe I never leave the house with out a pen). Finally, I'm learning to remember the little things. And I think I was right: tending to the little things makes the "big problems" of life seem a bit more manageable.

I've learned a lot here. A lot about myself, and those around me. A lot about my culture, and this new one that is less and less foreign to me by the day.

I've met people that have inspire me towards greatness, and people that have exemplified what I don't hope to become.

I've met some great friends, and have already had to say goodbye to a few.

Throughout this whole journey, I've been shocked to find who goes the extra mile to show they miss me - and who doesn't...

It's been surprising, also, finding who I myself miss, and what I don't miss much at all.

Life has a way of whipping around a bend when you least expect it to. I've made and strengthened some great friendships while I've been abroad. But I've lost a great deal as well.

I have 6 months to go. And all of this has happened only in the first half of the trip. I know that I will have plenty more lessons, and losses, and strange foods to try (think: Squid-on-a-Stick), multi-cultural haircuts, and Adventures in the Back of the Bus.

I am sure that my dedication to the "little things" will bring even further depth to the next leg of my journey; be it physical, mental, spiritual, relational or functional.

I have learned one thing here in Taiwan, and that's the value of Community. Their whole lives are structured around it. I now see the fallacy of our grandiouse idea of American Independence. Sure, it has it's strengths, too. But we need people. "No man is an island."

In reference to life as a jazz piece, I once wrote:

The more I step forward in my life, the more I realize that intimacy is essential to our existence. Sure, there's tension when dealing with people. Sometimes that solo is a little too loud, or a little too long-winded. And sometimes trading fours seems like trading punches. But without people, what do we have?
[Life] isn't a song that's sung alone.

I also noted, "Life is hard to put down on paper." But this blog has been my attempt to do just that. It's also been a key to my survival here: a link back home; a portal of communication; a sacred space to hash out my thoughts, muses, frustrations, and perturbations. It's even led me to finding ways to live beyond myself - and remind me to do so when I forget. I have found an amazing community here, and I'm thankful for each of you. Our interactions really have helped me through dark days.

Nonetheless, I catch myself being lonely here. Or maybe just lonely in general. I haven't fostered many great friendships here in Taiwan (and the one's I have fostered up and move to places like Australia...). I fight a feeling of loneliness fairly often here. But I am in Taiwan for reasons greater than finding people to be with on a daily basis. I find ways to remind myself of that.

One such reminder came when my sister and I visited the local art museum. These photos are of the entrance exhibit.

My initial reaction was "Yeah, that's what you think!" But the more I allowed myself to dwell on the words, the more it became true. The point of this season isn't loneliness. And though Community is essential, it's the times when we're confined to Solitude that opens our eyes and ears to what we normally have within our grasp. In these moments, art comes alive like we'd never known and we find life in the most unexpected of places.

The Journey is the Destination. This phrase that I've chosen to live by for the past 6 months (if not the past 3 years) has taken on new depths in recent times. I have found the worth in dedicating myself to the moment. Living life to the fullest. Tending to the "little things" and watching the "big problems" manage themselves. My life isn't some distant event in the future. It's the very experiences that are happening right now. It's my staying up til 3am to blog, and my getting up at 6am to study. The adventuresome and the mundane. And the life that springs up everywhere in between.

I've only been in Taiwan 6 months. That's only half the amount of time I've planned on being here. I am stepping into the last stretch of my expat-adventure with a refined vision and a passion for living life the best I can. I know I will fill these electronic-pages with more loved memories, more muses, more head-scratching and tears to shed. Each tear dropped, smile cracked and letter typed is another day lived in this Journey.

For those of you who have made it with me this far - and to the ones I've picked up along the way - thank you for joining me. It's been a treasure to have you along. I am honored you have chosen to join me, and I hope you'll allow me to do the same with you and your story.

I find it only fitting to end the same way I ended my first entry after arriving in Taiwan:

This is my journey, and I am honored that you're the least bit interested in joining me. I thank you, maybe in advance, for reading. My humblest hope is that it in some way may encourage you in your journey.

Here's to feeling life is more than a Destination.

Here's to finding the most out of the Little.

Here's to knowing this journey is meant to be spent with Fellow Journeyers.

And Here We Go...

Safety

2009-03-05T03:31:00.000-08:00

Count 'em. Go ahead.
And when you're finished there,
count the number of helmets you see...

Welcome to the Streets of Taiwan.

Guest Post! "A Walk in the Park"

2009-02-21T23:23:00.000-08:00

So this post was a long time coming. It's a recap of my sister's trip, by (yep!) my sister. Hope you enjoy! I've been pretty busy and haven't yet been able to get my thoughts on some of our time together down on paper. ...er... blog. Enjoy! I know she'd love to hear your thoughts, and will likely answer any questions you have for her through comments.

_________________________________

A Walk in the Park
by: Lynzi

As I’m lying on my couch on a very cold rainy day, watching only one of the greatest movies ever made, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, (sorry Chase, Batman is good too), I couldn’t help but to burst out laughing at a scene I have seen over a hundred times. I have always found this part hilarious, but my recent trip made it just about ridiculous. If you have never seen the movie, picture this- Andie Anderson (Kate Hudson) is trying to annoy and drive away her boyfriend Benjamin Barry (Matthew McConaughey) and shows up at Ben’s work with a new Chinese Crested dog and a gift for Ben. When she gave it to him, it was a plaid shirt that matched what she was wearing along with the outfit the dog had on.

I used to watch that scene thinking “Aw how cute, but oh please, no one would do that.” To my surprise, this was a common thing I saw in Taiwan. Even though I don’t think I would ever actually go that far, Chase, and others, would basically describe me as a typical OC blond who carries her dressed up dog in her purse. And there I was going to Taiwan.

I’m Lynzi, by the way. I went to Taiwan to spend two exciting weeks with my brother and got more out of it than most could imagine. With my busy schedule (planned for me by the family) I had no time to be jet lagged, and thank God, I managed. (That Starbucks' triple shot espresso that I was overwhelmingly happy to be given helped carry me through the first day.)

Chase wanted me to get up and be at the bus stop by “8:05am” my first morning with him to go to his school, but I replied with a laugh: “Umm, no.” I was going to sleep in and oh how I was excited after traveling. To my dismay, that “sleeping in” turned out to be an hour more than chase wanted to get me up. I was woken up by the family saying they were leaving for a company's fancy end of the year party and I should come. I said “Of course,” then was told we leave in 30 minutes. (This was a daily occurrence.) We pulled up to this beautiful restaurant where the party was held, and I got a little taste how Chase feels everyday. We were “fashionably late,” which in itself is an excuse for everyone to look at you, but throw a blond American into it, and you get one girl feeling extremely awkward. Especially considering 95% of the people in the room were guys. After the long three hours we spent there, I finally got to go home and see Chase for 5 minutes before he had to leave again. (This, also, was a daily occurrence.)

One of these “occurrences” led me to have a very interesting day. Chase had plans one morning, so I decided to go out. I went to see my friend Stephanie’s business. She had to work a little so she sent me off to walk around in a gem market, but took my money so I couldn’t buy anything and get over-charged. After a little while I got tired of just looking, and random people asking me where I’m from, and them yelling “Go Obama!!” after my reply. I walked back to the store, and Stephanie then gave me my camera, bought me an umbrella, and sent me across the street to Taichung City Park. I loved it. The park was simply beautiful with a lake in the middle. I snapped a few shots for five minutes and made it about 100 ft before I was stopped by the police; a police woman, actually. She asked me if I was alone, and I replied yes. She seemed almost a bit concerned. I told her I was alright, just taking pictures and wasn’t lost. “Well, come with me. I’ll take you to the station and tell you about the park.” I was up for anything seeing that I didn’t have any plans and wasn’t about to tell a police woman “no”.

“My name is Lady,” she said. I smiled and returned the introduction. I think she was excited to practice her English. We took the conversation slow, but she surprised me with what she knew and understood. She took me to the police station located within the park and then started to introduce me to the police Chief, as well as the other policemen. Four of them were there at that time. The Chief told one of them to make tea, and had another get their special, unopened Chinese New Year cookies and candies.

Dennis was one of the policemen I met, and though I still don’t know his age, he wasn’t much older than me and I could tell Lady was on a mission. She got the two of us talking immediately, telling me “He speak good English. Better than me.” He was super sweet, and I could tell he was exceptionally nervous. Whenever he got quiet, Lady would very strongly say something to him in Chinese, like a mother would tell her son to say “Thank you” or “Please” to someone with that certain look on a mom’s face. Then Dennis would ask me another question. I also found out that Lady had a daughter studying at a university not too far from me in California. Small world, right? Her face lit up when she heard I was from there, and I saw this peace in her. We had an instant connection, and I made a wonderful friend.

I was with them for longer than I thought I was. We even played with a traditional Chinese toy, which made for some laughs. At some point when we were sitting at one of the work desks that they quickly cleaned for our tea party, I thought to myself “Hmm… I’m in Taiwan, at a police station, having tea and cookies with the policemen, woman, and Chief. Uhhh? Ok.”

Lady said something else to Dennis in Chinese, and he asked me if I wanted to take a walk in the park and he would tell me about its history. My heart kind of fell in my stomach at the thought, but luckily Lady came along with us. After our walk, and thanking them for an incredible afternoon, they said goodbye so they could patrol the park. I then saw Stephanie coming to me with a worried look on her face but laughing and telling me I have been gone for over two hours. “Two hours?!” I apologized and then proceeded to tell her everything that has gone on in my walk in the park.

My trip was filled with lifetime memories and crazy stories. That park was only my second day, and day by day Taiwan continued to excite me with its hidden charm that I had to discover myself in different unique ways. My time with my brother and being able to share in the outrageously ridiculous occurrences that take place there, is something that will never leave me, and will never cease to amuse me.

I love Taiwan, and truly hope to be able to take another walk in the park again someday.

Go on an adventure. You never know what might happen.

_________________________________

About the Author:
Lynzi is the second in the line of 4 kids, and just celebrated her 18th birthday.
Now entering adulthood, she has no idea what she wants to do when she grows up. She does, however, love to travel and has already visited England, Dubai, and Africa - which she's planning on returning to this Summer. She is a Ballet-Dancing Extraordinaire and (I think) hopes to marry rich.

Valentine's Day = A couple movies with another guy

2009-02-15T00:17:00.000-08:00

Last night, I saw Cape No. 7

Seeing as it is the highest grossing film ever to be produced in Taiwan (and was well on its way to highest grossing film in Taiwan's theaters), I've been meaning to see it for some time.

Synopsis:

The story centers itself around a community throwing together - last minute, in true Taiwanese fashion - a local band to open for the big-name Japanese star and his beach-side performance. Of course, there's a love-drama brewing between the Japanese concert coordinator, and the rebellious, bad-a (a for attitude) lead singer of the band. His band mates are misfits, but to everyone's great satisfaction, they (of course) are able to pull off the show at the end of the movie, even playing an impromptu rendition of a song that the lead singer finished writing on his way to the show. (Both songs are chart toppers here in Taiwan that even I recognized. You'll hear them on any radio station, or out of any mouth of any 13-23 year old Taiwanese girl.)

Interwoven into that major plot line, was the story - through found letters - of a man written to his love during the era of World War II, when Japan occupied Taiwan. This was where I found the beauty of the movie. These letters painted a broken man's heart and why he would choose to leave the woman he loved. Though it was never fully expressed or explained in the film, what was communicated was the torment it left him in. But he was resolved. He knew what he had to do. They, of course, found the woman the letters were meant for 60 years earlier, and gave them to her in what was likely the most underwhelming - yet fittingly subtle - scenes of the entire movie.

Overall, I give this movie an A for effort... which is, of course, a kind way of saying "I know you'll do better next time." The plot line was predictable and the acting was campy, but the production quality was high, considering this started as only an entry to Taipei's Film Festival, and turned into Taiwan's highest grossing production. What I do admire about Taiwan is their Nationalism. It's different here than it is back home, but it's apparent. And it's apparent they are proud of this leap forward in the arts.

If you're hoping for a look at some stereotypes and humor of Taiwan culture, and don't mind reading English sub-titles - unless of course you speak Mandarin, Taiwanese, AND Japanese - then this movie worth your time. It's cute, and light, and easy to swallow.

After that, my quasi-roommate and I watched Hancock. I'd seen it before, but actually enjoyed it much more the second time around.

I won't say much about this movie, but one thing stuck out to me. It did a great job celebrating "Humanity." In a culture of perfection, youth and infatuation with our "super-heroes" (mind you, I'm typing this with The Dark Knight Calendar suspended over my head), they regarded the human condition and the idea of growing old with someone as a blessing.

While reflecting on these two back-to-back films, I noticed they had something in common -- and no, it wasn't subtitles.

Both these movies had an emphasis on forsaking a love by choice. Sacrifice, for the greater good of two people - or the whole of the human race, in the case of Hancock. The love for the other didn't end - not even after 60 Years of silence, in the case of Cape No. 7 - and the sacrifice happened before everything was fully understood. But nonetheless, it was carried out by a conscious choice for what was understood to be the best.

Made for some interesting reflections and internal dialog on this Valentine's Eve.
I hope all of you were able to spend the day cherishing the ones you love - despite your view on over-commercialized holidays.

Reasons I Miss the States - Top 3 Goodies from Home

2009-02-14T07:11:00.000-08:00

So today is Valentine's Day. (Happy Birthday, Lynzi!)

I took no regret in dropping 300 bucks (about $10US) on Chocolate and other goodies ... all for myself. Peanut Butter M&Ms, Dove Dark Chocolates and ice cream bar: never a bad choice. Admittedly, I would take back the Strawberry flavored milk tea and the "Muscat of Alexandria" Grape-flavored Kit Kat Bar if I could (yeah, you read that right). The milk tea I downed while plugging my nose, and the green Kit-Kat I pawned off on some unsuspecting kids.

But the chocolates were well worth it. I'm convinced it's these little comforts that let expats like myself live day-to-day in strange and foreign places; places that consider green grape Kit-Kats a good idea. I mean really, give me a break. (think about that one...)

When my sister, who still has a promised guest-blog-post to publish, came to visit, she brought more gifts and goodies from home.

Though everything she brought me was a welcomed treat (and most of the chocolate didn't make it to today), here are the top 3:

3. A box of Honey Nut Cheerios. Undoubtedly, Honey Nut Cheerios is one of the greatest comfort foods available - and it's not available in Taiwan. (I'm sorry, but there's a HUGE difference between Honey Nut and the regular variety...) I do believe the only comfort food that trumps this breakfast cereal is a bowl of ice cream. If you know me, you know that. But Ice Cream doesn't pack well...

2. A Snuggie. Yes, that's right: a Snuggie.

Don't even joke. It's great. Snuggie has been quite the companion many a recent cold mornings. Plus, since no one in this country hugs anyone, its the only arms I have to hold.

and finally, clocking in at our number one position:

1. My bottle of febreeze. Seriously great stuff. My room smells fantastic. And now, so does my laundry. It's a gift no bachelor should live without... no matter where they are.

Now a word from our Sponsor:

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

2009-02-13T02:54:00.001-08:00

Today ranked as the best bus-experience to-date.

After waiting by the curb outside my classroom for less than 3 minutes, I saw the bus round the corner and I rose to greet him with a wave.

He slowed and pulled open the door with a lurch. I stepped inside, flipped my wallet against the plastic box, scanned my bus card (bought at 7-11) and turned to greet my traveling companions.

And that's when I saw it.
Or should I say, didn't see it.
Or should I say, didn't see them.

Any of them.

The bus was empty.

"AALLLLRRRRIIIGHT!!" I shouted. The bus driver looked a bit perturbed. He may have been rolling his eyes at me. I paid no mind. I knew just where I was going:

Priority Seating.
(picture coming after the weekend)

I sat down in the seats perfectly balanced between the wheel-wells. Typically, these are the seats reserved for the elderly, cripple, and Taichung Elite. Today that was me.

It was around this time that a slight fear struck me. I imagined the scene played out in my mind:

The stop immediately following mine swarmed with noisy high school children. Immediately, the hungry students filled the back of the bus: Blue Suits on one side; Green on the other. Before we took off, I felt a chopstick spit through a straw and strike me in the back of the head. I didn't turn to search the giggles.

The next stop had 4 elderly ladies, all carrying canes, AND 5 pregnant women - one who looked peculiarly like this young lady. I have no idea how any of them got up the stairs to the bus.

Two stops after my glorious discovery, and the bus was completely full. But that's when it happened. The next produced only one sole rider. An elderly man, with cane, and member of said Taichung Elite.

After boarding, he waddled towards me swifter than I've ever seen a swift-waddler waddle.
"You're in my seat." I was caught. He knew I didn't belong. But this was my glorious ride.
"What about her?" I said, nodding at preggo #5.

He didn't buy it: "Please relinquish your seat."

"Look here pops," I stated, resolved to enjoy my ride, "I'm the minority here. And I was here first. Waddle on back now. I'm declaring a Rosa Parks."

The old man, fire in his eyes, raised his cane over his head annnd...

...and I was brought back to reality with a jolt.

did we just fly past the first stop? I thought in anxious excitement - rather satisfied that I didn't have to actually declare a "Rosa Parks". (I don't think it would have the same lasting affect here as it did back in 1955. I made light of it here, but really, she inspires me every time I step onto a bus. Happy African-American History Month to all of you back home.)

Before I could decide whether or not I actually passed an empty stop while riding on an empty bus, we soared by another. And then another. My Excitement Grew. Like winning Roulette.

"Come on! Show me the nobodies! Show me the nobodiesssssYYAAH! One more! Good."

By now, I was sure the bus driver hated me. The trip went on like this until the stop a block before my let-off (You can't have all the luck). Still, when it came time for the doors to open, I stepped off that bus feeling like a Champion.

By far, best bus ride to date.

(Hat Tip: Rachel for doing the leg work and reporting on the Pregnant Lady, so I didn't have to.)
(Disclaimer: All verbal conversation found within this blog existed in and only in my head. No, I did not scream like I won the lottery to that poor bus driver.)

Penny for Your Thoughts?

2009-02-11T00:22:00.000-08:00

When I picked up my computer from the shop this past weekend, I turned it on and was surprised (pleasantly) that all my settings were preserved.

I'd forgotten I had this picture as my desktop background.

What do you see/think when you look at it?
I'd value your commentary.

(Picture found @ FreshPics Hat tip: The Daily Dish)

Update: Some great comments to read. I posted my thoughts down there.
Make sure you check out Don's story here.

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

2009-02-09T05:52:00.001-08:00

So today on my return trip on the Taichung City Transit System, I had someone to sit next to.

Two stops after where I stepped on (New Bus Pass in hand, purchased and refillable - of course - at 7-11), a portly hoodlum of 4 12 year old Taiwanese boys waddled to the back towards the only four seats available.

Three of them sat down fast, and one was left standing, staring at the only seat open near his friends: the one next to mine.

I glanced up from my book (Three Cups of Tea, a great read).

We made eye contact.

I looked at the seat next to me.
I looked back up at him.
I nodded at the seat next to me.

He looked at the seat.
Looked at me.
And with wide eyes, shook his head "No" enthusiastically.

I shrugged, and returned to my book.

Now only a few stops away from my destination, the boy worked up some nerve and crept towards me. He backed in and lowered himself down onto the furthest most corner of the bus-seat.

Accomplishment.

I couldn't see his face, but I could see him beaming reflected off of the faces of his three friends across the aisle. He turned his head at the neck, "Hi."
"Hey kid, how are ya?" Then it happened.

High five.

We were friends forever. I had to leave him all too soon though. But after I swiped my card and descended down the stairs to the curb, I turned to see eager eyes and two thumbs up pressed against the window in my direction.

It's good to have friends.

Jesus Loves the Little Children

2009-02-08T00:36:00.001-08:00

I was with the medicine man and his family walking around the Taichung Lantern Festival, which celebrates the Chinese New Year coming to a close.

He told me, "Ye-su has a special place in the Festival."
I didn't know what he meant, but it sounded cool.

That's when I saw this.

I laughed. So hard. I couldn't believe it.
Then I got really sad. And kind of embarrassed. Embarrassed of being a Western Christian who told the world this is the best way to portray Christ. No wonder so many thinking people consider Christianity a joke.

There was a sign (no banner, or church passing out flyers or anything like that...), but it was in Chinese. I don't know why this was there - and next to the Festival's mascot. I mean, I know he said "I am the light of world," but come on. Really?

Anyways, just thought you might be amused.

Haircuts as a Multi-Cultural Experience

2009-02-07T19:40:00.000-08:00

I've written about getting my haircut before. But this week, I decided not to go to "Beautiful" salon, and rather opted for the little shop around the corner where my Taiwan family goes for a trim.

For awhile now, I've had this silent sneaking suspicion that something else other than haircuts goes on upstairs. But my Taiwan family being friends with the shop owners was reason enough to choose to step through the doorway.

It's run by a young, cute, trendy couple in their 30's. They do all the cutting and styling. They have a girl that, for all I know, might live there, too. She acts as the assistant/front desk/shampoo girl. She also dresses stylish, and wears a fair amount of makeup - which is not something you see a lot here.

Besides her hipster appearance, she basically look like death. Tight-lipped and no emotion. No life in her eyes, and little acknowledgement that the world exists.

People like this typically fascinate me. And I always tend to subconsciously scheme ways to find out if there's anything underneath the surface. There usually is, if you know where to dig.

When it came time after the hair cut for me to hose off, the owner sent me to the back with little-miss-lifeless. She apparently decided I needed a shampoo, which cost me a hundred bucks. But after she started massaging my freshly exposed scalp, I didn't care at all.

I have to wonder if all shampoo sessions are this long. She went on for a solid 5 minutes. I think she wanted an excuse to chit-chat. I was surprised she started to open up - Little-Miss-Lifeless showed signs of vitals.

This is horrible, I know. But, going back to my sneaking suspicion perpetually held in the back of my mind, I thought at first she might have been soliciting me. After some post-salon research, I found out she was just asking me if I understand Chinese. (Apparently, I don't.)

But she didn't speak any English, except "Me, girl," so we kept the conversation to what Chinese I could understand. She asked if the girl I was walking around with last week was my girlfriend,
"No, she my American little sister," I managed to reply.
She asked if I have a girlfriend in Taiwan. I said I don't. And then I think she asked if I like her - which was just a strange inquiry all together. I fumbled to respond. I was going to tell her she should smile more, but I was distracted by the tingly sensation on my scalp and couldn't find the words.

Then she said she goes running everyday. I think. She was jogging in place. I was confused. Mostly because the scalp-massage stopped, and I didn't know why.

"Running?"
"Yes."
"...cool."

I'm sure I missed something. She smiled some when she talked, but there was still not much in her eyes for me to read. I have a lot more Mandarin homework to do...
At least my "sneaking suspicions" are calmed for the moment.

But back to the haircut. Before I came to Taiwan, a friend gave me a "Mandarin Chinese Dictionary" with a whole bunch of how-to-get-around phrases. I looked up how to say "I want it cut short."

When I botched that, the stylist switched to English. "You want it short?" I was grateful. Halfway through the cut, I could see where she was taking it, and told her to hack off the top-center before it gets too pointy.

She was trying to give me a faux-hawk. (I love that I just wikipedia'd "Faux Hawk") "You don't want it like that?!" she asked, shocked. I said, "Honey, I created the Faux-Hawk years ago." (No I didn't say that. Besides, Wikipedia credits David Beckham with that accolade.)

But I did tell her I've had that for many many years. (see here.)
"Change style" the stylist added knowingly.
"Yep. Change style."

I chose to cut it short because, well frankly, I know I'm not going to have hair forever. I might as well get used to looking at my own skull. I'm still getting used to not styling it in the morning... But it's growing on me. (did you see what I did there? "Growing...") I think I like it.

So here it is... the new me.

It's okay, say what you think. So far, everyone here hates it. And they haven't been shy to tell me. No reason you should either.

But that's fine. I didn't do it for them. Or You.
:)

A New Year, a new motherboard.

2009-02-07T02:12:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm back online.

My laptop completely died on me about a week and a half ago or so (made in Taiwan.. go figure) and after 8 or 9 days in the shop, and a replaced motherboard, it's back in my hands. And I'm shocked to announce, so are all my files/taiwan pictures/etc.

Today was a Beautiful Day, and retrieving my connection to the world put me in a particularly good mood. So, after little debate, I neglected my bus pass (bought at 7-11), my bike, the possibility of mooching a ride off someone, and the taxis that slowed down and honked everytime they passed, and chose the 50 minute walk to the computer store. My laptop is small. It fits in my shoulder-sling bag, so I knew getting it home wouldn't strain on my back.

After the near-hour trek, and retrieving my life-stream (sad, I know), I decided the only thing that could make this day better was a trip to Cold Stone for a waffle bowl of Ice Cream.

So that's exactly what I did.

There were two girls behind the counter preparing my Peanut Butter Paradise. They were chattering about, glancing occasionally and nervously in my direction. From what I could tell, they wanted to wish me a Happy Chinese New Year in English. They thought the single earbud in my ear was playing music, or maybe that Rhianna's "Umbrella" was playing loud enough that I couldn't listen in on their conversation, but they were less than subtle.

My suspicions were validated when "Eighteen" (Yes, that was the name on her badge, though my guess was she looked at least 24. The other was "Amy") placed a full sized Reece's Peanut Butter Cup into my Waffle Bowl.

Looking at me with a smile, she decisively stated "This one is free because Chinese Happy New Year."

Thanking her, I smiled back and replied with "Happy New Year!" ...in Chinese.

Amy giggled.

I dropped my change in the Tip Jar. And with a wink and a wave of my hand, I told her she didn't have to sing.

Typically, when I am in Cold Stone with my Taiwanese friends, I enjoy tipping because I love watching the Taiwanese-Coldstone employees nervously prepare to serenade me with one of their pre-selected songs ("High-ho, High-ho, sank you for your dough"). I enjoy this because I love the thick cloud of awkwardness that rises in the room.

You see, Coldstone is pretty much the only place in Taiwan that has a tip jar, so not only are Taiwanese not used to tipping, they're not used to being sung at afterwards - and the unsuspecting Coldstone Employees aren't used to it either. My Taiwanese friends grow uncomfortable because they have no idea why I would do such a thing. The innocent diners look around curiously before burrying their faces into their green tea ice cream, and the kids behind the counter are seized with stage fright.

In the midst of it all stands an out-of-place white guy, beaming through the cloud of awkward tension. Great moments.

Today, however, I was alone. And Coldstone was fairly empty, despite it being a perfect February ice cream day. So with a wave of my hand and a wink that said "I'm about to walk out that door, and I promise not to write your boss" I released the steam building up in our little kettle of awkward.

Amy and Eighteen were quite gracious. I could see it on their faces.

Anyways, now that I have my computer back I'm going to rattle off as many blogs as I can to update you with the last three weeks.

Also, look forward to pictures and a blog post from my sister to recap her trip.
She's got some stories for you for sure.

Til then, "Chinese Happy New Year!"

An Evening IN the Orchestra, or The Art of the Triangle

2009-01-25T01:07:00.000-08:00

As the title suggested, I finally had the birth - and hopefully death - of my music career.

A couple of months ago, I tagged along with my Taiwan Family to a practice session for the Taichung City Youth Orchestra that they lead. There was a casual suggestion: "Hey, why don't you jump in with the percussionist. It'll be fun."

When it was discovered I have no natural aptitude for playing jazz lines on a ride cymbal, I was relocated to Triangle. Over the next few Saturdays, I learned that you can, indeed, play the Triangle incorrectly. I sweat at the thought of my solo every time it was ushered in by the 20 woodwind students sitting in front of me - most half my age.

We're not even going to discuss the Tambourine.

I did enjoy the bass drum, though. And stumbled along, attempting to recall everything I learned about reading sheet music in my 5th grade piano class, and apply it to these amelodic lines.

At some point around Christmas, I was asked, "So, what do you think? Are you having fun?"
"Yeah, it's great," I replied, without much thought.
"How do you feel about your parts?"
"Well, I mean, I'm getting there, I guess. Why?"
"Good. The performance is next month."
"...the wha?"

Friday night was the culmination of all my hard work, and insufficient practice. In front of nearly a thousand people - in one of the most prestigious music halls in Taichung - I became a professional musician.

I say professional musician not because I was paid. I certainly wasn't. That takes a much different set of qualifications. I say professional because I was told that professionals make a lot of mistakes, but they just know how to hide it and keep going like they meant to play what they did.

Professional.

Where does my promise of Pirates come in? [One reader guessed it] As our closing piece, we played the "Melodic Highlights" of the Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End soundtrack. It was nearly fantastic.
We also covered a few Disney tunes you would expect from a Youth Orchestra, and a couple classics.

One such classic provided a special treat. Flown in from the night before, an Orange County, California based Ballerina performed a Waltz to the Blue Danube.

This Ballerina choreographed the entire pieces (or at least the parts she danced) by herself this week...

This was because the decision to include her in the Evening's performance was so last minute she didn't even make it into the Program. (The host joked with the audience that they met on their mutual flight from LA to Taiwan)

This wasn't true, but...

...This Ballerina also happens to be my little sister.

For the next week and a half, she'll be staying with me to celebrate Chinese New Year. I will be enjoying her company as we tour the city and the island; making her try only the best foods I can find...

[Squid on a Stick in my Mouth]

...constantly teasing her, kicking the bottom of her feet as she walks and any other number of activities that I consider my God-Given First Born Birthrights. Gotta make up for lost time, ya know?

This all will surely keep me occupied, and I might neglect the blog a bit. But I'll be back soon enough. Also, in typical Taiwanese fashion, I've told her (rather than asked her, and with as little forewarning as possible) she'll be guest posting a recap of her time. Look forward to that next week.

Tonight is the Lunar ("Chinese") New Year, so this place is a hubbub of activity. I'm looking forward to a good meal, and will probably come back from this week with more stories and plenty of pictures. But for now, Happy New Year!

An Evening with the Orchestra

2009-01-20T08:09:00.000-08:00

Clear skies above, I spent the evening enjoying another performance by the Taichung City Symphony Orchestra. Tonight, however, was special.

Conducting this evening, Tan Dun flew in from Mainland China to lead the Orchestra in two scores he has written.

The first was a real treat. Though it's been years since I've seen it, one of my all-time favorite movies is Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Tan Dun is the composer of that entire score. The performance this evening began with excerpts from the movie score, while scene-appropriate clips played on the screen behind the orchestra. It was beautiful to listen to this movie come to life.

The entire score is highlighted by the presence of an Er-hu (two-string Chinese Violin). To much delight, the score was accompanied by an Er-hu soloist who captured the organics of the film and brought them to our out-door stage here in Taichung.

Concerto and Solo by the Er-hu stands this piece apart from a typical Hollywood Movie Score. By no means will you find Hans Zimmer gravitating towards this Traditional Chinese Instrument.

Tan Dun, however, revels in it. The remaining hour of the performance brought us to his piece entitled Maps. Pioneering the relationship of Traditional Orchestra, Technology and Alternative Sounds, Tan Dun blended recorded video of indiginous Chinese music with the live symphony.

Solo vocalists and traditional instruments - and unconventional ones, such as rock-percussion - flooded the screen while Tan Dun conducted his symphonic construction in and out and over the clips. Lacing the piece together, a German Cello Player carried the weight with authority and an eccentricity. The resulting sound could only be defined as foreign to Western Ears. Across the entire Orchestra, music was created in the most unconventional ways: strings were slapped rather than bowed; air was forced through french horn by hand rather than breath; rimshot-cadence; swirling symbols; a quick, harmonic shoot, completely in unison. Though at times chaotic and barely-tonal, the performance left all in awe.

The evening's end met Tan Dun and accompaniment with a Standing Ovation. This was certainly the best concert I have seen here in Taichung to date. Completely unique, and likely a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Here is a quick video from the performance. Just something I decided to snag at the very end.

Tan Dun - Maps from Chase on Vimeo.

I have some more Orchestra-related news... but I think I will wait until later. Want a hint? This post included ninjas, the next will see pirates.

Good Sounds

2009-01-16T08:00:00.000-08:00

I mentioned a post or two ago that I was immersed in a music-saturated culture back home.

Well, this is the extent of the pop/rock/indie scene here in Taiwan.
Consider this the best of the best (that I've seen so far):

Crowd Lu (盧廣仲) with his debut album: 100 Ways of Life (100種生活)

I wish I heard more music like this. It's more than tolerable, I think I actually enjoy this video. Plus its great Mandarin practice. I think I recognized a word or two...

Deserts Chang (張懸): Recently won "Best New Mandarin Artist" at the 7th Chinese Music Media Awards in Hong Kong.

This song is a great case-study on Chin-glish. Note the mixture between Mandarin and oddly structured English lines.

Children Sucker 表兒 : 朋友啊!Take It Easy!

Yea, I couldn't resist posting these guys.

I will note that there is one pop-punk song that is played -everywhere- but I can't find it anywhere. And, naturally, I don't know the name to look it up.
If I find it, I will pass it along.

But for now, I leave you with the infamous:

Wu Bai.

That's right. Literally translated, "500" takes the claim as Taiwan's first Rock Star. Still coming on strong, his newest album is laced with space-odyssey-themed Political Statements - the kind of album you'd expect from a true rockstar.

Think of him as a pioneer. Like the Steve Tyler of Taiwan Rock'n'Roll.

And since this post is about music and videos, let me leave you with something you totally weren't ready for. That's right... he's baa-ack.

-----------------------------------------------------

I found the Taiwan Music Videos at the Fools Mountain Blog, where there is not only additional videos, but more in-depth explanations of the ones I listed.

I found "The Evolution of Dance 2" on the homepage of Taiwan's Youtube site

Taiwan Politics - The Off-Broadway Production

2009-01-15T07:23:00.000-08:00

Taiwan is a Nation of Celebration. So-much-so that they have a day to celebrate the Law.

Yes, Law Day.

"How do you celebrate Law Day?" one might ask.
Well that's easy, you stage a skit in front of your peers that mocks your career and professional status, and then everyone laughs.

Background: Former President Chen was jailed in December on suspicion of Money Laundering.
He rejected the claims and cried "Political Persecution!" He is from the Green Party who seeks independence from China. Currently in power is President Ma, in the Blue party, who favors political cross-strait hand holding. Political opinions and stances are stark here in Taiwan, and rivals the tension between the Red and Blue back home.

These acts mimic Chen Shui-bian when Chen was detained last year.

The entire room -- full of judges, attorneys, prosecutors and lawyers, probably several hundreds of them -- brought into laughters.

I found the quote and the video here

I really don't have much commentary for this. I'm just not used to seeing Prosecutors parody - let alone discuss at any length - an on-going investigation. Nor am I used to seeing Lawyers admit to their poor acting skills or childhood dreams of Broadway.

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

2009-01-14T22:34:00.000-08:00

This is where I recount the adventures of riding in the Taichung City Transit System to School.

Rule #1: Always know where you are in relation to the next nearest Bus Stop.

This morning I rounded the corner to my bus stop and saw the one thing every bus-rider dreads: my bus pulled away from the stop without me.

Acting quickly, I darted towards the next stop en route. Stalled by a red light. Did I jaywalk? Absolutely. Passing the McDonald's, I slid over the hood of a white compact as it blindly pulled out of the drive-thru (okay, it didn't happen quite like that, but you have to admit the imagery is much more intense that way). I made it the three block run just in time to turn and signal the driver over to me.

Recently, I discovered a new stop closer to my classroom. If I can make it out of class, down the stairs and across the street to this stop within 5 minutes of class ending, I can make it on the first bus to pass. However, if it takes me 8 minutes to get to the stop, two buses will have passed, and I'll need to wait 15-20 minutes before boarding.

After today's ride, however, I may start waiting for the later bus. Apparently, the five minutes it takes me to get to the stop is also the 5 minutes it takes every high schooler in Taichung to show up in hoards at every bus stop along my route home. There were twelve just at my stop. I counted.

Needless to say, I didn't bother finding a seat. Neither did about half of the hoard who entered the bus in front of me. Two bus stops later and I was surrounded by green and blue suits and the stuffy smell of teenagers who are not sure if they're supposed to start wearing deodorant yet. It felt like the courtroom scene in the trial of former-President: cramped, loud, hardly to be taken serious. Green and Blue on every side of me, but no one dared make eye-contact with the other. There were, however, a few points and snickers and forced English words tossed my direction. One bumped me as the bus lurched forward: "Uh, Sorry," his friends giggled behind him. I replied in Chinese. It's funny, but that often causes them to lose interest. I didn't mind.

A few stops down the road, a couple kids in green left the sardine can. You couldn't tell the difference. A buddhist monk approached the bus door. Quietly, though, he turned away clutching his prayer beads. No room for him here. This was to his benefit: I felt as though I was the one who needed the prayer beads.

The Driver slammed his breaks about 12 times in the course of the trip -- about 9 more than normal. I'm sure it was on purpose. Accelerating was brutal. It seemed every red light was an opportunity to fling light-weight high school students towards the back of the bus.

I will say there was a bit of frustration in me when a clearing in the wall of students formed to reveal 4 empty seats. Sure they were all next to that stranger on the bus you don't want to sit next to, but at least the Monk could have had a squat. I moved to the back in hopes others would follow. They didn't.

Making my way back to the front wasn't all that easy either. Though I did enjoy every student saying goodbye to me...

All this aside, the highlight of my bus-filled day was about an hour later when I was passing a bus stop on foot. A little Taiwanese girl - no more than 3 - stood at the stop, holding her grandpa's hand. I glanced behind me and saw the bus approaching. Panic-stricken, she waved her free hand wildly; her brow furrled with worry, "STOP!! STOP! STOP!! SSSTOOPPP!" She cried (yes, in English), as the bus snapped on it's right turn signal. Her Taiwanese grandfather smiled inside himself.

I couldn't help but laugh sympathetically as I passed the little one.

The mishaps and adventures of the Taichung Transit System pays no mind to age, race, language, or political affiliation. It seems even she knows what it is to watch a bus pull away and leave you behind.

Reasons I Miss the States - Music Culture

2009-01-12T05:34:00.001-08:00

[Indulge me, for a moment, in a couple shameless plugs for a couple friends back home...]

A couple of my friends back home launched some exciting, long-coming projects today.

Josh Auer just released his Dear You EP on iTunes. You can hear his song tonight on One Tree Hill (yeah, he's that big of a deal.)

In the past, Josh has been involved with some of my favorite musical acts (Namely, Jesse McCartney...)

Two years ago, this month, he, his wife Amanda, and I started up a concert venue back in California. theVault lived to be a ripe old age of 1 and a half.

Through theVault, Josh was able to meet and produce some stellar acts from the OC scene.
(Thanks to him, you can now find Sun From Shadow and Taylor Warren on iTunes)

theVault was definitely some of the most fun I've had with some of the coolest dudes ever.

[Shameless Plug #1: Buy Josh's new EP here: ]

Running theVault with Josh and Amanda gave me the chance to meet some awesome people.

One of those is a good dude named Nick Greenwood. Over an Islands Burger one day, Nick shared with me his dream to create a support system for bands on the road. He called it the RYFO Network. Nick's a man with big dreams: after 5 years of dreaming, they're taking form.

Today, he launched his RYFO Network. The team he is building is already prepared to offer touring musicians more than they've ever had: free beds, and warm meals; trips to a chiropractor, and trips to a crisis counselor; extra hands, and anything else a band might need but normally doesn't receive while on the road. Nonprofits have aligned themselves with RYFO's vision and are sponsoring tours. It's clear his vision is contagious.

[Shameless Plug #2: Check out RYFO.org and tell your friends about it, while you're at it.]

My time in Taiwan has been excellent, but this was the dynamic, music-saturated culture I was intricately involved with back home in California. And it's one more reason I miss my life in the States.

You Know You're Taiwanese When...

2009-01-10T21:58:00.000-08:00

Alex (whom I have quoted before) just posted a great list entitled:
You Know You're Taiwanese When...

Here are the first three:

1. You look like you are 18 regardless of your age.
2. You like to eat chicken feet.
3. You suck on fish heads and fish fins.

Another fun perspective inside Taiwanese Culture.
Similar to my Cultural Observations Column (here and here)
...just 3+ years more of depth and understanding.

"New Year's Resolution - Spend Time More Wisely"

2009-01-09T22:21:00.000-08:00

Singer/Songwriter (/Author) David Crowder recently posted this video on his blog with only one line above it...

new year's resolution - spend time more wisely.

Recently, my thoughts have resonated with his. I'm coming to realize not everything I enjoy doing is particularly productive. My schedule is filling up here -- more and more every day. So, in order to survive and carry this expatted-year out well, I've got to make some changes.

I'm slow to make decisions, though, and generally want to try it out before I buy.

That said, I've got to take a break. So if we were once Facebook friends, and now you don't know why, I've deleted my profile for awhile (I'm sure I'll be back eventually). And if I used to comment on your blog more than I do now, it's because I've taken a step back on that as well.

Don't worry, it's not permanent. Just keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I adjust to the next period of my time here in Taiwan.

Adventures in the Back of the Bus

2009-01-07T06:54:00.000-08:00

This is where I recount the adventures of riding in the Taichung City Transit System to get to school.

So yesterday, as I was walking to the bus stop after class, I saw not one but two buses pass by me. I waited a half hour for the third. When it finally did come, it came with a twin. Apparently, half-empty buses now travel in twos. I'm tempted to leave out the part where the caravaning-pair caught up to a third bus and played Leap Frog til my stop.

Today, however. I found myself, once again, at the back of the bus. It was a slightly later bus, since I broke my wake-up rule and used the snooze button (one too many times...). At least I think it was a later bus, it very well could have been the bus I would have boarded, had I arrived at 8, as usual.

I was enjoying a rather triumphant musical moment with Chris Martin and the boys (thank you iPod), when I opened my eyes, I looked down and out my window at a car who was splitting the lanes of traffic to race by us in the opposite direction.

The bus rocked.

I glanced towards the driver to catch his reaction.

Green
Yellow
Red
Accelerate.

And we made it through the intersection with a honk.

Just another reason I choose not to drive in Taiwan.

Fisherman's Ferry - A Day in Kaohsiung

2009-01-04T23:44:00.000-08:00

I completely forgot I had this picture:

Last weekend, we traveled to Kaohsiung for the day. We took a Ferry to the Beach Peninsula. But we didn't take the luxury pedestrian cruiser. No, we hopped in the illegal fishing boat that slides from one side of the port to the other. The rates are cheaper, and the trip is quicker. I couldn't help but snap this photo (right before my camera died, unfortunately.)
And yes. That is dead fish hung to dry behind my head.

The beach was a nice change from the city. There was little wake, however, and the riptide made the shore near impossible for swimming. So we didn't try. The boardwalk market was more of the same: Chicken feet and Squid on a Stick [Click For Photo].

The Squid was delicious. The feet, I skipped. Again.

A Medicine Man's Mountainside and other Meditations

2009-01-04T02:07:00.001-08:00

My Taiwanese Family has a cousin who is a Chinese Medicine Doctor.

Though his English is slow-coming, I've enjoyed lengthy conversations each time he comes round to visit. We talk of his trade, and how he doesn't like to work a lot. He likes to enjoy life. When he discovered I had studied various Martial Arts, he told me his line of work teaches him to see Chi. This excited me to no end, and he's promised our next conversation will be in the aspects and application of Chi. When I told him I also enjoy writing, I thought briefly of this blog. Now, when he sees me, he asks if I'm working on my book yet.

One of our first conversations, he spoke of his slow-paced life. His cadence and tone authenticated his words. He said "While I was in School for Medicine, they taught us of Da-rwin. I do not like Da-rwin. He said 'The stonger man wins,' that 'society is getting better,' but I look around, and I don't see that." I understood. The Medicine Doctor continued, "I like Ye-su. He taught be kind to the poor man. Give to the poor man." To me, these were strong, unsolicited words for a Taiwanese Buddhist. I told him if I were ever to write my book, I want it to be filled with conversations like this.

In a global culture that says "More = a better life" he consciously pursues simplification. Successful in his career, the Doctor purchased the side of a mountain to make as his Retirement Home. Nearly untouched now, he plans to spend the next ten years preparing the grounds of his future home.

Today, the family and I met him at his mountain side for a picnic. Resolved to enjoy our excursion, we decided to ignore the fog and drizzle and make the most of what we had. The doctor brought out a hatchet and saw and within a couple minutes, we had a fire blazing from the dried brush and fallen bamboo we could uncover from the foilage.

It was a great way to spend the afternoon. A fair chance to open my lungs outside the Taichung smog, and touch nature again. There was a peace in our landing. I could see what attracted him to the mountain-life. It brought back the best of memories from my years as a Scout. I couldn't help but wonder if that's how it's supposed to be. Less city and smog. Less of "More". Living off the land, and relying on one's resources for sustainability.

I didn't come to a conclusion. Regardless, it was a welcomed break from the concrete-familiarity.

Steeping Tea

Road Side Landing: Perfect for a Picnic

Lunch by the fire