Some Turkey, One Drinking Contest, No Football

I suppose two out of three ain't bad. The last Thursday in November is always the best one, other Thursdays don't even come close. The Pilgrims called it "Thanksgiving" and Squanto's people called it "these idiots have belt buckles on their hats." Silly Pilgrims. Modern America has taken the premier American feast to new levels since the it's inception - Indian corn has been replaced by potatoes, a variety of fowl replaced by one gigantic genetically modified so-fat-and-juicy-we-redesigned-ovens turkey and Pilgrim smallpox replaced by pumpkin pie.

In Taipei, the excitement of gastrointestinal discomfort, bloating and pure bodily fatigue does not resonate with the population. The ideas of moderation, useful energy and activity are still strong within these fine people. Hopefully, they'll see the light. And the light is gravy.

This was the second Thanksgiving (from here on, Fakesgiving) I have celebrated abroad in the past three years. Two years ago I was in Sydney, Australia with a terrific group of Americans and we were able to make an unbelievable meal that was enjoyed for days. Here in Taiwan, little bit different. In fact, this Fakesgiving...I had to...EAT OUT! And it was...at...A BAR!!! Instead of my aunt and uncle's cozy, quintessential New England home in Massachusetts, Brendan and I stuffed ourselves into a dimly lit, noisy, foreigner bar filled with intoxicated nincompoops. Let's go to the footage...

The Food: Yeah, pretty good! The starter was a soup, like a tomato chowder. Tiger beer? Delicious, of course. Next was a Fakesgiving plate with all the usual suspects present and accounted for. I know for a fact the cooks are Taiwanese and they did a spot on job of recreating this American masterpiece. I'm sure they asked each other if foreigners really eat this crap and the answer is YES! We love it. In fact, I eat until my pants don't fit correctly. We eat until our cholesterol level goes up a minimum five points. We eat until our B.O. smells like cranberries, stuffing lingers on our breath, food gets into our hair AND THEN WE EAT MORE.

And then we do it for the next 2 - 4 days until there is nothing left, not even our dignities.

Oh, and we got a slice of pumpkin pie. Back to quaint, colonial New England.

The Drinking Contest: Right from the get-go, I do not advocate this type of behavior. It is irresponsible, dangerous and totally awesome so unless you want to be a total bad ass and totally be like the Motley Crue video you saw on MTV where the dude gets all the chicks, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME! Do it at a bar, much safer.

It wasn't even my intention, idea, or choice to participate. As it happened, Brendan and I tied another team in the Fakesgiving trivia game, ten correct answers to ten correct. The bar owner said the only way to settle the score was a drink-off. Now, I didn't want to get deported, and of course, I'm a stickler for following rules. After a quick team meeting, and a comparison of belly bloat, it was decided that I would represent us.

Nervously, we went upstairs to stare down our opponents. Who is my competition? We were pointed to a group of men around their fifties, busy selecting their prize-fighter. They chose a Taiwanese, a bit taller than me, nicer hair but definitely not funnier, I could tell. Age is on my side, but is experience his advantage? Two glasses of Carlsberg, the bartender explained the rules and cries "3...2...1...DRINK!" And I'm off! The first two gulps go down faster than a lightning strike, almost losing control. I'm not looking at my enemy, just focusing on my dissolving glass and looking like a bad ass. At this point, I know I'm a bad ass, I'm almost done. Glug glug glug, winner! This guy didn't stand a chance, apparently going to college in the United States is useful in many applications.

Conclusion: Unfortunately, I didn't get any chicks. I did not sign any autographs, rip my shirt off or smash any guitars. But I did win more alcohol! Even better, our names are on the bottle and the bar owner said he'll hold it for us. This Fakesgiving turned out to be sweet; we ate, we drank, we enjoyed the company of others and we looked like bad asses - exactly the way Pilgrims and Indians had wanted it.

Halloween Part II - Teacher Andrew Gone Wild

Like most Halloween nights, the difference between what you think will happen and what actually transpires can be unbelievable. For example, the woman who owned the Korean restaurant we dined at thought I was Justin Bieber and insisted on feeding me. A few times actually - this particular time she put together a lettuce wrap with steak that would make P.F. Chang want to hang up his chopsticks forever. Crazy, unreal good. If Koreans eat like we did on a regular basis, their culture has learned to completely ignore calories, forever remaining skinny. No less than two soups, multiple plates of meats cooked on tabletop griddles, dozens on tiny bowls with colorful contents, a bucket of rice, several fish, noodles, more meats - after the first five courses I blacked out and woke up resting comfortably in my dessert. Far and away, one of the best meals here thus far.

Luckily for me, I had a sweet and thoughtful coworker named April who adopted me into her group of friends. Little Red Riding Hood periodically checked in to make sure all was well, namely that I didn't jam my chopsticks into my nose or burp loud enough for the other end of the table to hear - too late on both accounts.

After avoiding any major crises at dinner, let the night begin. We all put on some kind of getup and hit Tianmu, the side of town where April and I work and others reside. There was a big gathering in the town plaza, plenty merchants and vendors selling Halloween-themed treats, drinks and wares. Around the corner there was a haunted 'house' we walked through; lots of people, a few screams from my new friends but at the expense of sounding like a super manly man, I wasn't very frightened in the least. I've experienced scarier situations on laundry day. I have a feeling it's because the haunted houses and trails in Connecticut, where people chase you with revved up chainsaws, is a little more worrisome than a short man behind a curtain with Hello Kitty backpack. Still scary, different reason.

After party, excellent. Grab some adult beverages, a karaoke room, cool people, strange circumstances, mix thoroughly and you've got a good time. The new location was the basement in an apartment building where somebody lived. A comfortable room, complete with professional karaoke systems built in, was the staging area for a night of hysterics.

The Taiwanese have a liquor called kaoliang (pronounced 'gow-lee-ung') which is similar to rocket fuel in strength and tequila in taste. A clear solvent, capable of softening concrete, was the catalyst for my nonstop spectacular renditions of Franky Valli's "Can't Take My Eyes Off", Michael Jackson's "Black and White" and outrageous dance moves unfamiliar in the Taiwanese culture.

A few hours later - Drunk Red Riding Hood is comforting a wobbly Snow White, Michael Jackson can't moonwalk a straight line, the Taiwanese ghost disappears and the karaoke machine is silent. Empty bottles and cans, Halloween accessories everywhere, communications in Chinese and English breaking down. Tomorrow morning is going to be...damn, right now.

Great success! An excellent time! Somehow, a few guests were over-served but the authorities are out right now looking for suspects. This Smooth Criminal is Bad, considered Dangerous and should Beat It before there's Blood On The Dance Floor.

Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough.

Halloween Part I - Student Funtivities

Even if you don't live in the United States, I firmly believe that once a year kids are entitled to free candy from strangers without doing any kind of background check. The greatness of Halloween spans the globe and my beloved Giraffe School wisely decided to be a part of this glorious day.

For the month of October, my fellow teachers and I loaded our kids with vocabulary relating to the special day - words like 'Frankenstein, graveyard, ghost' etc. were a part of our everyday English. I had quite a bit of fun with them and we'd play charades to guess the word. For example, a student would walk stiff for 'mummy' or flap their arms for 'bat'. I ran into a bit of trouble when they started nibbling each other for 'vampire' and serious trouble when they started to eat each others' brains for 'zombie'. Very true to life, well done.

On the actual day, classes were cut short to prepare for our night activity, taking the hell-raisers around the town to trick or treat. Dressed like Michael Jackson circa 1982 'Thriller' video, my army of goblins staggered from business to business and singing the classic 'trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something blah blah..'. Being the neighborhood English school, the places we went to were preselected and were patiently awaiting our arrival. After the first couple of groups went through, they were patiently awaiting our immediate departure. I guess a few dozen kids screaming they were going to pull down your underwear unless you gave them candy is bad for business.

Most of the younger kids dressed up - many superheroes, princesses, vampires - but unfortunately some of the older students were approaching the 'too cool' stage of their late childhood. For them smearing some magic marker on their face (my recommendation, of course) qualified them as a bonafide werewolf or grab some toilet and drape it over your head, instant ghost.

I also realized why Halloween in New England is incredible. My young friends and I would walk house to house in a neighborhood with walkways to front doors. You could see who had lights on, enjoyed plenty of space to sprint around the neighborhood feverishly and hide easily from your parents who try to convince you that four pillowcases full of candy is enough. Here, most everybody lives in apartment buildings, the city doesn't stop and the candy here is...unquestionably... TERRIBLE! It's mostly hard candy with strange flavors. I swear I had an asparagus flavor, a pork rind flavor and something I imagine what Windex tastes like. Fools! Do you want kids to hate you? Let me tell you, I think you're doing a good job.

After returning to the elementary school across the street from Giraffe without losing a single kid, there was a treasure hunt outside around the track and playgrounds. We should have been more specific because after we said go, kids were trying to climb trees, shimmy up down spouts, dig holes and break into the buildings. You'd of thought we told them we hid gold bullion or diamonds the way they swarmed the schoolyard like an angry swarm of bees. After coaxing them back inside, the treasures were counted up and school points were given to the team of crafty hunters.

Everybody had a great time - nobody cried and I got a stomachache courtesy of a ear wax-flavored lollipop. Unfortunately, I didn't carve a pumpkin, smash any mailboxes, ring any doorbells and run away, toilet paper any houses or set bags of poo on fire in front of people's houses. All that happened later...

Computer Band-Aid

As of this message, my computer is working and I use that term lightly. Are laptops supposed to make sporadic clicking noises? I don't think so, but mine does anyway. Or what about an automatic restart/shut down feature? If these options sound attractive to you, I would love to sell you mine. No credit, bad credit? No problem! I'll even accept trades such as a 6-pack of beer, a few packs of gum or you could sing me a song and substitute my name somewhere - that would be excellent.

Hopefully my computer behaves, I have much to share!

Kids - Experts At Misplacement

He is not one of my students, but this astute young fellow sums it up perfectly.

Kids are like electrons - you may you know what they are, what they do and where you can find them. But true to the comparison, controlling them is wikked hard. I've tried a few different things: rewards, punishments, pepper spray, embarrassment, apathy and water boarding. Some work, some don't and each new day is full of surprises.

A recent development - kids are the foremost experts at misplacing things. Anything, big or small, they will put it somewhere where it will remain forever. At Giraffe school, we use audio CDs to supplement written material in their work books. Here is a specific incident of superb misplacement - the student, I'm calling Mario, needed to borrow my copy of the CD to finish a page out of his book. Great, I say, one less person to watch over - here is a CD, here is a CD player, have a ball. Mario has good English, here is the gist of the conversation when he came back without my copy...

"Thanks for finishing, where is my CD?"
"Um, I don't know."
"You were just using it."
"It's over there."
"I don't see it, can you show me."
"I don't know."
"You were just using it! Is it in your bag? The CD player? Your hand? Your mouth?"
"No, I don't have it. I don't know."

Is this the son of Harry Houdini? Are you using some kind of Taiwanese magic the teachers haven't warned me about? Of course, I went bananas looking around the area for this lost piece of educational goodness. Before I started lifting the linoleum and crawling around in the air ducts, I gave up. Of course I didn't punish or get mad at Mario, I was too amazed at that. Either I'm working in an Asian Bermuda Triangle or children are truly on their game of getting rid of crap they don't need. Other freak occurrences include losing pencils that were in their hand, erasers that imploding after placing it on the desk for a split-second and everybody's favorite, the "my homework vanished into thin air" ploy. So much talent, squandered on something so petty. Maybe the guy who whacked Jimmy Hoffa said to his child, "here hold this bag for a second, Daddy's gotta grab the car."

But kids have carte blanche on these kind of situations. If I could have held on to that kind of immunity, I'd have more money, friends and health. Recently Brendan and I were discussing our Resident Visa paperwork and what we needed to get done. Lets compare...

B - "Hey man, what did you do with that visa application?"
A - "I don't know."
B - "You're an idiot, find it."

Harsh, maybe but I did find it. It was in my hand the whole time. Does that make me a kid, dumb, or a dumb kid? Wompwompwomp.

Happy Birthday Taiwan - The Most Dangerous Parade

October 10 marked the latest and greatest holiday celebration of Taiwan, the National Celebration Day! That day in 1911 began the Xinhai Revolution, eventually culminating in the decline of the Qing Dynasty and the establishment of the Republic of China. We all loved and remember the great times we had during the Qing Dynasty, like that killer party house you lived in during college, but as time goes on you realize that you'd like to wake up in a bed not surrounded by empty Schlitz cans or iron-fisted Chinese commanders. Enough is enough, turn the page and start fresh.

Fast forward one hundred years. That wasn't so bad, was it? Modern society demands observation of such significant events, bad and good. The only reason I heard about it was through my friendly Starbucks barista, Mike, who simply described it as "Taiwan birthday! So good!". Armed with that English, he quickly became my culture attache of sorts alarming me of any impending events I should take notice of. By the way, his title is coffee master, it says so on his name tag - Starbucks, where do you get the nerve. If you think you could just conquer the world, pay your suppliers next to nothing, overcharge me for a supremo super blah...damn Mike this is one kick ass drink. See you tomorrow!

Back to the event - Brendan and I leave the apartment to play some frisbee in the park on a seemingly uneventful Sunday. However, like every other day, there is no such thing as uneventful. We hear a faint bass rhythm, pounding over and over, unwavering and unyielding. This is not some Honda POS cruising the boulevard for babes - interested we walk towards the source. Across the park, the origin of said noise is the beginning of a parade in our neighborhood. The group is lining up to march and the drummer kids standing behind massive kettle drums being towed by a Jeep are warming up. Pretty normal so far, that is about to change.

The parade is lining up to start, therefore we rush ahead to get a view of the group. And this is where it gets crazy. Typically, to avoid injury or confusion or certain death, a town or neighborhood might close the roads completely to accommodate the celebrators. Nope. Not here, that would inconvenience everybody else, how rude! Buses, taxis, cars and mopeds have the same right of way as kids dressed up like dragons. Share the road you imbeciles! And then it gets better. What better way to announce the upcoming parade than to shoot off a bucket full of fireworks a couple feet from the front of the beginning. People, I'm not talking sparklers either. These are weapons grade, US Army explosives making noises loud enough to loosen your bowels. These are rockets being shot into the air that terrorists are looking to use. I love heavy, heavy metal and have been to many shows without earplugs. But these noisemakers were loud enough to make me cover my gentle, baby ears. Wah. Even more entertaining, these are used at the crossing of every block - I don't see much Taiwanese who drink when they want to party but they sure like to blow shit up.

After watching floats with drummers, men carrying homages to their founding fathers, buses passing the other way full of commuters, women dressed in traditional garb and many more confusing arrangements, time for some serious fireworks. By a river that passes through the west side of the city, there was a MASSIVE, professional fireworks display. Not any of that amateur nonsense close to people's faces thankfully but a full-on American Fourth of July style show that lasted 45 minutes. Everybody and anybody was out to kick it Taiwanese style and it was a great end to a very interesting day. Learnings of the Day - if you leave your apartment, expect to be surprised.

"Right about here is where we expect the bus full of Korean tourists to collide with the Taipei City Elementary School float. After that, we will drop M80s a block back on the Senior Tai Chi Association to distract everybody. Yeah."

- Some Asian Man

**I don't speak Chinese perfectly but I'm pretty sure that is what he said.

The Moon Festival

September 22nd - a glorious day. The locals call it the Moon Festival, or the Mid-Autumn Festival, known to me as the Sleep-Until-Two-WatchMovies-Eat-Sleep-WalkAround Festival. The Taiwanese celebrate in a different way than Brendan and I but I will do my best to explain the slight differences, if any.

By Chinese calendar standards, this day falls on the 15th day of the eighth month, the day always ending with a bright, full moon. Luckily for me, this was a Wednesday and schools were closed. In the modern days, most celebrators spend time with their family. What do they do? BBQ, eat moon cakes (above), eat a few pomelos, go to temple, relax, maybe go out for a late dinner and take a break from their hectic schedules. They DO NOT sleep through the afternoon, watch movies all day and take a few naps but the survey of all my Taiwanese friends is still incomplete. Moon cakes are delicious! Most of them I should say. About the size of a donut, each has a 'tasty' filling that is labeled with the dough in Chinese - an obvious problem for me. One was jammed pack with a pineapple gelatin-paste, sweet and tasty, Fig Newton like. And then a few of the others - wow, no idea but I think one was curry powder and pencil shavings, another was pork and melted plastic, another may have been fish scales and walnut shell. No matter, I ate them all - I'm trying to fit in!


We start the afternoon by going to our local church, Xintian Temple. The place was buzzing when we arrived, families with very young to very old making the rounds to observe a religious aspect the Moon Festival. Originally a harvest festival welcoming the end of summer, the moon part revolves around ancient folklore involving an immortal, archery, jealousy, an emperor and the elixir of life - eerily similar to my last relationship. SparkNotes version available on Wikipedia. Circling back, the temple is a place to give thanks on this day but most importantly to honor and remember family ancestors.

I found out this next part from my Taiwanese contacts, go me. The typical spread is on a large table - items include pomelos, grapes, moon cakes, pineapples, rice cakes (not made by Quaker), dried noodles, tea, beer, a few prayer cards and a few items a relative preferred. The spirits see the offering, are grateful for being remembered and help to guide the living in a karma-like reciprocity system. But on Wednesday, these tables were everywhere - in front of apartments, businesses, bus stops. And always packed to the edges with the offering.


Next, say a few words. Grab a incense stick, set it ablaze, careful not to poke anybody's eye out and pray to your ancestors. Maybe apologize too - they saw how you acted last night at the club, not happy.

In this photo, Brendan, sporting a sporty orange tank circa 1988, takes a quiet moment to reflect on our journey so far. Each person holds a stick on incense, makes their peace and drops it into the large black, cauldron to extinguish and release the wisps of white smoke prayers into the air.


Traditional observances, check, time to mix it up.
A quick ride on the subway takes us to Ximen, a Times Square imitation. This photo is a view into the main square which is for foot traffic. Shoppers, kids getting ice cream, couples grabbing a bite and looky-loos doing anything except something. Lots of smiles, laughter and a fun atmosphere. It is a huge area, filled with sneaky side-alleys, where one feels like a small fish in an ocean of a pond. And they only speak Chinese in this pond, argh.





Not waning gibbous, not waxing gibbous, but a full moon glowing with confidence finally makes the appearance. A great day, even though we missed the BBQs, and another opportunity to learn a bit more about my new surroundings. Maybe they have a Sun Festival? Either way, grab a grill, I'll bring the beer and we'll celebrate like they did in 983 B.C., Shang Dynasty style.

...sweet tank.

#2 - What The Hell Is This?

What good are the processed, mass-produced 7Eleven treats if you can't slather it in some kind of filmy sauce hyper-infused with sodium? My nuked noodle dish with a side of something accompanied by something else should have some kind of sauce to cover it's nakedness. Here are a few of the options at the particular location I wandered into.

The flavors are as follows: green, red, pink, brown, yellow and orange. Pretty decent selection, I'm a little upset they didn't have teal or black but maybe they'll have it at another 7Eleven next door. I gathered my options and discretely slid out through the automatic door. It made a loud "ding" - discreteness thwarted.

Green - My Guess - Lucky for everybody, there are sweaty hot dogs and sausages on a meat treadmill - food always looks better when it is in motion. Usually it backfires but I'm going to go with my instinct and say a relish of some kind.
The Result - Bingo! And it was quite tasty, I forgot this wasn't my entree after I sucked out the last of the slime. Great start, 1-1.

Red - My Guess - Well duh! If Green was relish, Red is undoubtedly ketchup.
The Result - There I go again, trying to use my flawed logic. The sauce is red, but it is a chili hot sauce, not too bad and similar in texture to Elmer's glue. I'll bounce back, 1-2.

Pink - My Guess - This is a toughie. The few pink foods that come to mind are shrimp, strawberry frosted donuts, cotton candy - each of which I've never seen in a cellophane bag about the size of a business card. But at the buzzer, I remember that sushi is usually served with pickled ginger, which is sometimes pink and...
The Result - ...I fail! Much to my dismay, it is not cotton candy or strawberry frosted donuts. This is a sweet chili sauce, the friendlier cousin of Red. Tangy and reddish-brown, almost like a sweet barbecue sauce, this will certainly go into my noodle thing which is starting to look like a work by Jackson Pollock. Falling behind, 1-3.

Brown - My Guess - Easy peesy lemon squeezy, soy sauce. If there is some other popular brown sauce in Asia, it should find another agent.
The Result - Great success! I'll give myself credit however I have never seen soy sauce like this. The taste and color unmistakable but the texture is alien; mix tooth paste with jelly and that is lurking in this packet. That was a gimme but I'll take it, 2-4.

Yellow - My Guess - I've been burned on the past 'obvious' colors but nothing really comes to mind besides mustard. Banana sauce? No, way too obvious. Some kind of curry? Too Indian. Mustard it is.
The Result - Nope. And no idea. After sending it to the lab for further analysis, this orangey-brown substance is coined 'oden' sauce. Naturally I consult the world's foremost experts on the topic and Wikipedia informs me that oden is a traditional Japanese dish with a few ingredients boiled in a light dashi broth. No help there but for you American readers, think duck sauce, heavy on the duck. Blast! 2-5

Orange - My Guess - Rounding it out is this mysterious entity. Right away I think marmalade but Andrew learns from his mistakes. But do the Taiwanese like jelly-flavored hot dogs? Maybe. Either way I'm going rogue and thinking mayonnaise.
The Result - Humiliation, the answer we were looking for was ketchup. I know many of you are up in arms, about to march to 7Eleven HQ in Dallas, Texas and demand an explanation but people, I ask you to remain in control. All ketchups are not created equal, this has the viscosity of house paint and the aftertaste of cherries.

A measly 2-6, poor showing this time out. Lessons learned; what might be obvious in your home country could be the opposite abroad and when you mix a few strange condiments on one strange convenience store packaged meal, the result is exactly what you'd think - delicious.

Typhoon'd!

There are rainy days, thunderstorms, heavy winds and bad storms - ruins your weekend plans! All these terms are mild compared to a typhoon, which has been flattening Taiwan for a few days now.

Typhoons, Snooki from the Jersey Shore, hurricanes, and cyclones are all similar terminologies - a large, slow-moving hot mess of air and wind causing complete devastation wherever it may travel. Names are derived from the origin of the storm meaning that storms forming above a certain longitude in the Western Pacific are typhoons and Eastern Pacific storms are called hurricanes.

After tireless research on the World Meteorological Organization, I also learned that the actual storm names (Hurriane Andrew, Typhoon Helena, etc.) are listed a year in advance and used when necessary, which I think is unfair. And some names don't really invoke feelings of fear. Hurricane Earl? Have you ever met anybody named Earl? I haven't. Tropical Storm Gaston? I can see the reports now - "This inherently chic storm will down trees in your neighborhood while sporting a tampico brown cardigan and quickly flip your car anchored in the agile, olive aviation trousers with a flawless, pearl chiffon to bring balance to this ensemble." Rubbish. What about Cyclone John Wayne Gacy? Or maybe Hurricane Willem DaFoe? Typhoon Brangelina? Serious business all around.

This weekend, I was supposed to go to the beach. The only problem was the storm swallowed it up and visiting hours were revoked. Pity. Instead of waking up in sand and ordering a frozen drink with a tiny umbrella in it, I had to settle for a concrete jungle, real umbrella in hand and no libations to be found. At 8:00AM local time, the noise was deafening - winds well over 50MPH, rain falling in every direction and the noise of apartments coming apart; doors smashing into their weak frames, windows buckling, garbage bins whizzing around like discarded newspapers were all too common. Like Dorothy, I was convinced that my home was about to be lifted from it's foundation, sending the occupants to a strange new place where everybody was short and spoke in weird tongues. But then again, that wouldn't be very different from my current situation.

So I went outside. I had to! I had no food! Or beer! And to my surprise, I made it back, eventually. The scene outside was outrageous; scooters toppling over like they were made of straw, door mats in front of restaurants taking off into oncoming traffic, loose garbage moving at the speed of light, inside-out umbrellas cruising at low altitudes like a Tomahawk missile. Of course I'm one of the few brave (dumb) people on the street checking out the scene but I've never been in a typhoon, this is valuable primary research. Walking against the wind was laborious, one really has to lean forward and push off each step with conviction. The wind kept whipping debris in my face - plastic bags, cigarette butts, children, leaves - but I had to keep going. About twenty minutes later, or two blocks, I had returned to the apartment, safe and alive with my treasure in tote.

The typhoon season is coming to an end, I have won this battle. For now, I burrow in my nest enjoying the Asahi beer that I desperately needed. The storm will be over in a day or two, but it will be back - maybe not next week, or the week after, or the week after, or the week after...or the week after...but it will be back.

I'm a Giraffe

I'm a teacher! Who would have thought? Sure I studied business in college and worked tirelessly in the field but teaching has always been a good match with my personality. Besides, if I can teach my Mom how to use her computer and email properly, teaching young Taiwanese kids that don't share my language should be a cakewalk (sorry Mom - love you!). Alas, my latest adventure has landed me a job at a Giraffe English School in northern Taipei.


This is my school! And no, that is not our school bus! Giraffe is a franchise with branches located across the city; children go to normal elementary school during the day and afterwards, they come and learn English with Teacher Andrew. Giraffe has their own material - textbooks, workbooks, worksheets, etc. - but they extend freedom to each franchise on how to teach the material. My technique involves lots of games, making faces and dancing around like a fool at times. I'll take laughter over tears any day of the week.




This is my office - as you can see there are no students, I temporarily misplaced them. Class size range from 8 to 15 and their ages are mixed from 1st through 4th grade. Lessons are split between teachers at the school, me being the only foreigner, and since all the material comes from the home office, style and lesson plans are very similar. Upon enrollment, kids take a placement test to see which class they belong in. Here is what I've learned so far...



1. Kids are crazy - Was I like this when I was a young lad? Probably (sorry again, Mom). Of course, kids are kids and when they have some extra energy, you are very aware of it. My guess is the public schools must be putting some stimulants in the rice

2. There is a fine line between friend and teacher - As some of you may know, my gregarious and lighthearted disposition allows me some commonality with kids. I jump around, I crack jokes, I make faces and I play games - I'm really good at this and thankfully the students respond well. However, after an exceptionally silly lesson, trying to discipline the troublemakers becomes impossible. Would you listen to a teacher who just did his best Michael Jackson impression using a plastic dinosaur as a microphone? I doubt it.

3. The absence of a normal day - I have no idea what will happen during the course of a school day. What I mean is I know I will get there, teach, help students and leave. But when students ask me how many guns I own, where babies come from, how many girlfriends I have, or why is my Chinese such "poo poo", and can't help but stare blankly and wonder what the next gem will be.

There will be plenty more about my teaching but for now, short and sweet.

#1 - What The Hell Is This?

One of my regular bits will absolutely be "What The Hell Is This?" - I will go to my Happy Place (7Eleven), visit a strange place or see something unusual and try to figure out what it is purely by appearance. I'll try to stay away from the obvious, picture-laden items, because what fun would it if got exactly what I expected.

The Item: It was in the refrigerated beverage section of Happy Place, so before you even guess road flare, you're wrong (I hope). Dark bluish/purple, it is definitely liquid and then only discernible writing says "Mandheling", not much going on there.

My Guess: Looks fancy, I think it is a type of juice - maybe one of those neo-vitamin super antioxidants that nobody has every heard of. Like a Tropical Double Rainbow Geofruit Fikus Citrus Berry drink...

The Result: Coffee, I was way off! Sugared, with a splash of milk, it is delicious, rich and extremely flavorful. This bevy is excellent, think one of those canned Starbucks drinks except less expensive and without the pretentiousness. A repeat buy strongly possible, but what aisle are the road flares...

Soup Commie

There once was a woman who made me some soup
Tasted like heaven, looked like some poop.

I walked past her stand just the other day
Now I need help, I can't stay away.

Her regular is brown, filled with allspice
When it hits the belly, I'm feeling all nice.

With chicken, rice, carrots, potatoes and bones
Swimming in brown gravy, my soul she now owns.

Today she had a seafood special that looks quite white
But unlike a scary ghost, it causes no fright.

Squid? Scallops? Cuttlefish it might be
Not tuna, not clams but from the near sea.

She works in a closet, without too much room
Dark, dreary and damp, it seems like her tomb.

Soup Commie doesn't speak English, I don't know Chinese
Whenever she uses her magic, it brings me to my knees.

Quit Bossing Me Around, Subway

The public transportation system here is great; clean, fast, cheap, air-conditioned and extremely simple to use. But things weren't always like this, in fact it used to be unruly, dangerous and shady. Since the passing of the Dark Ages, the transportation department has spruced it up with some sweet signage to avoid any problems. Here are a few choice examples...

As you can see, the subway is littered with questionable characters - there is a designated section for women and children to wait for the train under the watchful eye of a security camera. I'm not sure if it is working...
Don't even THINK of bringing your pet pigeons or fireworks collection. Pigeons already crap on cities too much, if they caught fire too it would be disastrous. Your dog is fine, as long as it is in your purse.


WHERE AND HOW DO WE WAIT FOR THE TRAIN?!?! Problem solved, pedestrian lanes! And they are used - yesterday I got caught in a six Taiwanese pile-up after a bucket of eels spilled onto the platform.


BUT WHAT IF THERE ARE NO LANES?!?! Form a queue behind this line.


Does this look like a jungle gym? They put these everywhere, even on walls! Any Spiderman impressions will not be tolerated.


If you are a diabetic and need a sugar fix, too bad. Just inhale a fistful of dust bunnies? Choke it down, or you will be fined $7,500 Taiwanese, or $0.83 US.


These suckers move fast, please hold handrail, seat belt is just under that.


You wouldn't want to known as a loose stander, would you?

After a couple weeks, I finally know how to properly use the escalator, check out my excellent form.

Louis C.K. and Asian Andrew Getting Coffee

Big fan of Louis C.K. and this video has so many parallels to my current life. Strange language, stranger people (in a good way) and not a clue as to what I just got in my paper cup.

Not Just 7-Eleven

You may have seen, or been to a 7-Eleven. Grab a Slurpee, pack of gum and gone right on your way, no big deal. American franchises have so much to learn...

Things you can do and get at a Taiwanese 7-Eleven: copy, scan, print, fax documents, eat dinner, meet babes, get drunk, reload your cellphone, learn to speak Chinese, look like an idiot, sushi flavored potato chips, give/receive high fives, breakdance, etc.

Not to mention, these are on every, and I mean every, block. Running late to the presentation and need to print some additional copies? Done. Looking for love? Chicks love it. Or just want some company? Open all day, everyday. Genius!

Sultry

For those of you who don't know, my name is Andrew Skarvinko and I have recently become Asian - Taiwanese in fact. I have flown across the USA, over the Pacific Ocean and directly in the thick of it all, Taipei.

If you look on a map, Taiwan is roughly on the same longitude as the Bahamas. So when an LED screen at the airport describing the weather said "sultry", I thought it would be warm, breezy and pleasant. However, the humidity sticks to my Western skin like bubble gum mixed with honey in a jar of peanut butter. Even my sweat, sweats. The Taiwanese have completely unaware of this, sporting pants and long sleeves at times, and have a Zen-like control over their pores.

Until I find the path to Enlightenment, I will be sweating like a BP executive in front of a Congressional sub committee.