Taiwanese Opera: Fun vs. Fine Art

It's no secret that I'm a fan of Taiwanese opera (歌仔戲), even if I post about it far less often than I do temple parades and other festivals. 

This time of year happens to be a great one for Taiwanese opera fans, enthusiasts and people who are just interested and want to check it out. Baosheng Dadi's birthday was this past week, and Bao'an Temple, as a part of its Baosheng Cultural Festival, puts on several operas around the time of the festival: all free, all by good performers, all outdoors in the open stage area directly across from the main temple (which is where firewalking also takes place).

Then, in May, the theater on the top floor of Yongle Market on Dihua Street (yes, there is a theater up there) will start a series of not free but still very good operas that you can buy tickets for online. What's great about these performances is that you can learn about the story ahead of time - drop by Yongle Market or pick up a brochure at Bao'an Temple, where they are often available - and it will list which operas are playing on which days, what tickets cost and how to buy them, and a synopsis of each opera. The summaries are in Chinese, but if you can read Chinese or get a friend to help, you can go in knowing the basic outlines of the story you'll be watching. The operas on Dihua Street will last through June and July, with the Xiahai City God Temple celebrating the City God's birthday and more.

If you've never tried Taiwanese opera, or can read Chinese but are too intimidated by an opera in Taiwanese to check it out, but are interested - now is the time! (Note: for the outside, free operas, lines form as early as 1pm, for some performances you could get away with lining up at 4pm, and chairs are distributed around 5:30 or 6 for a 7pm showing. Show up early or you'll be stuck all the way in the back. You can put a bag down to save a space in line and get those around you to watch it for you and explore the area if you don't want to stand in line for that long.

Me and Sasha waiting in line at Bao'an Temple. I've got the all-important brochure in hand.

I'm lucky to have a local friend who is passionate about Taiwanese opera to occasionally take me along, explain a few details through the show and let me know if something good is coming up (with a story she can fill me in on beforehand). Most younger Taiwanese folks are not as into opera as Sasha is, but if you have such a friend, see if they'd be willing to introduce you to this art form.

I'm not quite sure why I like Taiwanese opera so much, because while I do enjoy Western opera (Tosca, Aida and The Ring of the Nibelung - especially Rheingold - are favorites), I never managed to get into Beijing opera or really any "Chinese opera" form from China - although I don't mind Sichuanese opera. Generally, though - too much caterwauling, not enough feeling. Too much screeching and clanging, not enough melody.

Taiwanese opera is, however, different. It is more melodic, with less screaming and more music. I find it to be more aurally pleasant overall, rather than the sound of swinging an angry cat at a metal pole.

I like it because it's more interactive - almost democratic. Taiwanese opera, while it has the trappings of a rarefied form of fine art, is really entertainment for the masses. You don't go to fancy theaters in fancy dress like a tourist herded through Beijing and sit quietly while performers wow you. You sit in the open air - much of the time - in jeans, with a corn dog and a bag of guava slices you bought outside - and pay little or nothing to be entertained.

Performers regularly add "au courant" jokes into the libretto: at one point in the opera I saw last night - 薛丁山與樊梨花 - General Xue Dingshan asked what to do: he didn't want to marry the non-Han sorceress Fan Lihua, but he was forced into promising to do so. What could he say that would allow him to please her, stay honest and not break a promise?


"Why don't you like her proposal on Facebook?" Fan Lihua's servant said.


I know - ha ha ha - but we're talking mass entertainment, and in the middle of an opera full of glittering costumes and live music, it was kind of funny. The same servant later on came out wearing big sunglasses as a "disguise" and later still wandered around "drunk" with a tallboy of Asahi in hand.

Performers regularly break the fourth wall, as well. One looked at us after the younger sister of one of the general's wives stormed off and we started clapping, and said "don't you clap for her!" General Xue himself turned to the audience at one point to ask what we would do if we had three wives and couldn't please all of them no matter what decision we made. I wanted to shout "就選一個太太而已！" but held back. In the middle of a scene, performers will regularly wink at the audience, or "shush" them, or ask them for backup.

I like this - it shows Taiwanese opera's roots in entertaining people, not being an art form consumed merely by the upper classes (take a look around any audience for an open-air opera at Bao'an Temple, and your first thought will not be "these are the upper classes". This is what the neighborhood middle-class obasans do for fun in the evening). I don't feel like I have to dress nicely or wait for "intermission" to get a glass of wine. While both are art forms, I feel entirely different at a Taiwanese opera than I did at the opera I saw in Prague (Rigoletto) years ago, or the operas I've seen at the Kennedy Center.

Most Taiwanese operas will begin with a warm-up of sorts - Fu, Lu and Shou (the three gods you see on top of temples) will make an appearance, and you might see 跳加官 (the dancing god in a mask), 喜神 (the two "men" in red robes) and 麻姑 (dancing women with fans). 


There are photos of all of these above. 

You might also see a 財神 (Wealth God - the one who "comes to your door" on Chinese New Year) who might throw out gold-foil wrapped candies from a gold ingot into the crowd.


These aren't the main part of the opera, but it's believed that an opera can't be performed well if these short performances don't take place first. It's like "blessing" the opera, if you will.

The opera we saw - Xue Dingshan and Fan Lihua (薛丁山興樊梨花) was about General Xue - famous for not only his marriage to Fan Lihua, but also for accidentally killing his father (which was depicted in a later scene). Fan Lihua, a non-Han woman who knows magic, is told that her fate is to be Xue Dingshan's wife.

"Her kung fu is better than his" (as explained Sasha), so she manages to capture him, and then sings a song about how she's too shy to tell him she loves him and wants to marry him - within his earshot, of course, and after he's captured her, so she's fooling nobody.

He doesn't want to marry her but the other choice is to fight her again, which he also doesn't want to do, so he swears to marry her. He then tries to escape, but she uses her magic to make his promise to stay come true (he tries to leave but can't due to floods and storms). This is supposed to happen three times, but it was condensed into one for this play.

They marry, but for whatever reason Xue Dingshan doesn't love Fan Lihua (gee, I wonder why!) and "divorces" her (apparently you could divorce a woman in ancient Chinese folk tales by saying "I'm leaving").

Then Xue changes his mind and they re-marry, only to be divorced again when Lihua's godson arrives, and he's almost as old as she is. I'm not sure why this is important, but it's implied she keeps bad company and he leaves again.

Fan Lihua then lures him back by pretending to be dead. At her funeral, Xue Dingshan is in tears, and Fan Lihua "reappears", and they marry yet again, in front of her funeral altar, or whatever you call it in English. Hooray! His other wives, who disliked her before, are happy now because they need her magic and want her back.

Then it's over, everyone comes out to bow, and someone gives General Xue's "old counselor" a giant teddy bear with a pink bow on it, which is hilarious.

Next month: 我愛何東獅, about Song Dynasty poet Su Dongpo's "terrible wife who is not tender to her husband", and after that, 紅樓夢, which, if you don't know this classic story, go look it up!

Dihua Street Holiday Market: Year of the Dragon

So I have a camera again. Brendan  dug out his old pro Canon EOS 350D, found the old memory card and charger for it, and has been letting me lug it around town to take lots of great pictures.

The upside is that unlike my old camera, which was good but not the best, this is a real pro machine. They say that it's not what camera you use, it's who's behind the camera (incidentally, they say the same thing about professional musical instruments), and there's a lot of truth to that. On the other hand, I'm still me. Same woman behind the camera, and yet, the photos I've been taking with this giant hulk of a machine are worlds better than what I got out of my dinky little camera. I mean, check out the depth of focus on that first shot. I couldn't do that with my old camera.

The downside is that this thing is heavy and conspicuous. No more quietly taken from-the-hip candids or quick shots. Everyone in a ten mile radius can see that THIS WHITE GIRL IS TAKING A PICTURE. This leads to more posed faces, although I appreciate that people make goofy faces instead of smiling moronically. It's definitely heavier than I'd like. I can't just throw it in my purse. Heck, it doesn't even fit in my messenger bag!

But, it is what it is and I do enjoy the privilege of using a good, solid camera for the time being. It's good enough that in the future, even after I get a tiny digital camera again, I'll probably take it out for fun.        

My first round with this camera was on Dihua Street. We went to the holiday market yesterday - I naively thought that being a weekday afternoon, the crowds wouldn't be so choking. I was wrong. I'm terrified of what it will be like on Saturday. We have the week off and precious little to do other than painting our apartment, so we bought some snacks to enjoy, which will help it feel like it's really Chinese New Year for us and we're celebrating in some small way.

Any foreigner stuck in Taipei on CNY with nothing to do would do well to visit the market before Monday - it'll infuse you with a bit of holiday spirit. Assuming you are OK with crowds, of course.

Everything is sold here, from snack food you can eat right away to canned and jarred goods to dried snacks - the dried vegetables, especially the garlic cloves, are a favorite of mine to ingredients to cook full meals to pre-cooked packed food to clothing to housewares to decorations.

I'm guessing a lot of this stuff gets purchased to either feed relatives descending on one's house while they wait for dinner or watch CNY television specials or is bought by the descending relatives themselves to add to the feast ("Hi Grandma! We brought egg tarts!").

This reminds me of my own family Christmases where we'd show up at Grandma's with cookies, a bowl of hummus, cheese and sausage or whatever else we felt we should contribute. I always made the hummus.

My first run up the street, with Brendan, the camera bag and my purse - and our purchases - in tow, wasn't that fruitful. After leaving Brendan at a coffeeshop - the one outside that's attached to Yongle fabric market - with our bags, I went back up with just my two hands, empty pockets and the camera and did much better.

 

One thing you can usually see a lot of at the market - as anywhere that's crowded in Taiwan - are people with their small dogs. I'm not sure how the dogs deal with the crowds, but they generally don't seem to mind. Once, I saw a cat at this market. Not a stray cat, mind you, but a couple who brought their giant fluffy orange-and-white cat with huge green eyes to the Dihua holiday market and carried him around like a dog. I can guess what the cat thought of this.

The vendors that sell everything from red envelopes to vacuum-packed squid to peanuts - we bought some of these fiery fried peanuts in seasoned chili powder  (YUM) often wear costumes. These run from the relatively tame qipao dresses that the peanut ladies are wearing to full-on costume insanity.

My personal favorite are the promoters who dress up like the thing that their stands are selling and loudly point you to where you can buy a non-anthropomorphic version of them. My least favorite are the ones who just stand there with a megaphone or bullhorn extolling the virtues of buying their dried squid over, say, A-chen's down the road.

In previous years, I'd thought of the crowds at Dihua Street to be a detriment, not a bonus. This year, as I was riding the human wave with just my camera, it finally hit me - no, this is what the holiday market is all about. It's no fun if it's not crowded. OK, it could be slightly less crowded, but I think a bit of a glut of people is what makes it so much fun. When I was in China, we went to a similar, but smaller, market in Sichuan (we traveled overland from Chengdu back to Guizhou and had a blast along the way). It had people but wasn't crowded. It wasn't nearly as much fun. That was nice, but Dihua Street is the real deal.

Even when crossing the street is an ordeal!

The dried goods are my personal favorite. Dried vegetables - which you can eat like potato chips as you lie to yourself pretending that they are healthy (they are not - they're dried, yes, and they're vegetables, but somewhere in the process they had unholy relations with a deep fryer and never looked back. Fortunately the deep-fryer/vegetable love child is a tasty little morsel). I bought a bunch of these and plan sit on my ever-fattening ass all week when I'm not painting, nom nom nomming on their delicious goodness. My favorites are the mushrooms, apples and garlic cloves.

I plan to write later - possibly later today, seeing as my class postponed and my Chinese New Year vacation began yesterday - about the times when I feel like I'm in a liminal space as an expat. Christmas is one of those times. Elections are another. Chinese New Year is a third. Major events that I can't participate in the way I would back home, or the way people do here. I can recognize them, watch them, be a part of them in a very borderline way but in the end they serve to highlight the ways in which I am not totally a part of any one society of people, and I think that might be true of most expats.

So, going to the holiday market helps me feel less liminal, less borderline, less nominal, less whatever-Latin-term-for-there-but-only-on-the-edges.

It helps that everyone there is in a festive mood. It lifts my spirits and makes me feel more welcome, more participative. One thing that is universal is festivity. You see cute things:

You get free samples:

Dihua Street's market is all about the samples - you could fill up on them just walking down the street. Everything that's not in a can, jar or bottle has a sample on offer, and even stuff that is packed up is often put out in little cups or with toothpicks, or brewed if it's a drink for you to try. No - really no - obligation to buy.

You get lost in the crowd:

You see some interesting things:

...and you can pick up a few new items to munch on or for your apartment. It's a great time to update or add to dishware and other housewares. Good selection and a lot of it is affordable Japanese-style ceramic or china which is fun and funky to use at home.

So, with that, I'll leave you with a few more photos. Something to enjoy if you didn't make it to the market this year, or you just don't want to go because it's too crowded.

Enjoy!

Tailoring: Taiwan Edition!

(All clearly pro/not in the market photos by Keira Lemonis)

As you may know, I had my wedding dress made in Taiwan, by a seamstress in Yongle Market (the wet market part that smells like pig brains). It was a long ordeal, but I was so happy with the final result in the end that I can’t shout it from enough rooftops. I spent a year trucking every few weekends to the market in light, fitted clothing over which I could pull my dress, occasionally risking embarrassment by quickly slipping off my shirt while the seamstress held up a piece of fabric to hide me so I could get a better idea of fit, and taking my pants off once the skirt covered all the necessary bits.

It was very hard to get my shirt off to try this version of the dress on in a public place. I liked the skirt at the back in this iteration, but from the front it just wasn't working so we ended up changing the whole thing.

I was measured, poked, prodded, told that my ideas wouldn’t work (some of them really wouldn’t) and saw some lovely additions that I hadn’t thought of, butthe tailor had (such as the cross of fabric at the top of the obi sash). I got to know the folks who worked in the market, where my pasty visage became a familiar face. I grew used to meeting Emily, my wingwoman, just inside the main door, and the occasional look of fear on the part of my seamstress, knowing I was there to talk about The Dress.

The tailoring process

My seamstress had never done a wedding dress before, but that was not a problem as I didn’t want a typical dress. It only became a problem when she realized that my standards of perfection were quite high – considering the time, money and emotional capital invested in the project, the result of which I’d wear on the most photographed day of my life to date (I like to pretend I’ll be famous and photographed even more someday) with all of my loved ones around meant that I cared far more about details and perfect fit than her usual customers. She was otherwise mostly employed by Taiwanese opera and drama troupes for whim she made banners for sets and costumes.

After that stress, though, it was done, and it was perfect:

…and I cannot recommend getting tailoring done in Taiwan strongly enough. It won’t be as cheap as Southeast Asia or India but it is still significantly cheaper than home.
Many foreigners don’t consider options when shopping in Taiwan, such as clothing altered, copied or even made from scratch.

This surprises me, but not very much: tailoring and custom-made (or copied) clothes cost far more back home than here. Although plenty of magazines advise you to get everything you buy tailored, the fact is that most of us don’t have the money to follow through on that in the USA, where tailoring one item can cost $50, $100 or more.

It’s also a shame, considering the massive Yongle Fabric Market and its fabric and tailors at your disposal (more on that later).

Here, it’s a great option for people – especially Western women – who can’t find things they like or that fit in stores and are sick of paying international shipping rates or only shopping on visits home.

Here, you’ll pay NT$50 for an easy hem shortening, maybe NT$100 to take something in simply, and upwards for more complex adjustments – but rarely more than NT$300-500 (about $10-15 US).

To get clothing copied you’ll pay more – NT$500 and up depending on complexity.
For a custom made piece with no pattern to work from, you’re looking at NT $2000-$3000 (about US $60-100), which is a lot, but if you buy good fabric and it’s a quality piece, it can be really worth it. This is a great option for suits and formal or semi-formal wear, and for shirts that flatter you that you’ll wear for awhile.

Keep in mind that these prices are for tailoring only, not tailoring with fabric which is purchased separately.

Yongle Market's 2nd floor is full of fabrics of all types. I am a fan of the faux-silk Chinese brocades, which are made in Taiwan (apparently - I've met the owner of the factory that makes them).

Let’s talk first about getting clothing adjusted:

There are tailors who alter clothing, but don’t make it, scattered across Taipei and the rest of Taiwan. Look for these characters:

修／改衣服

There is one in Shilin Night Market, visible from the main drag, but nowhere to change into the clothing to show the tailor what you want. There’s one in Zhonghe near Nanshijiao Night Market (if you’d like directions, leave a comment – it’s hard to describe). There’s one in Jingmei, (景美) on the first floor of the shopping arcade that also boasts Lai Lai Jia Jia (來來佳佳) 2nd run movie theater, a bunch of old lady stores, a shoe repair (also useful), a guy who sells fried stuff, a shop selling loose leaf tea and a Taiwan Lottery stand, with Café 85 and the Ha Ha (哈哈) internet café on the other end, near Jingmei Exit 1. The tailor is on the 1st floor. She doesn’t speak English to my knowledge but she does have a curtain so you can change into your clothes to show her what you want.

Yongle Market, both the first floor of the brick building and third floor of the ugly fabric market in the building from the ‘70s, are packed with tailors. Most can both adjust and make custom or copied items.

This means that if you do shop at a plus-size, or even regular size, clothing store and find something you’d love if only…just…that one thing…argh! – if it’s something that can be easily fixed with tailoring, go ahead and buy it and get it adjusted.
Back home I used to say “if it doesn’t fit off the rack, I won’t buy it – I’m not going to get things tailored” – here I am much happier to say “it’s not perfect but I can get rid of this ruffle/change this hem/take it in/add some darts and it’ll work” because I know I can get it done quickly and cheaply.

Some tips:

1.) Keep a piece of chalk on hand so you can draw what you want on the item – where darts should go, how far you want it taken in, etc..

2.) Not always necessary, but you might want to bring a local friend with you if you can’t speak Chinese at all.

3.) Find a place where you can change, or wear light, fitted clothing that you can pull the item over to show what you want altered, pinching it with your fingers.

4.) If it doesn’t come out right the first time, make the tailor fix their mistakes. That’s their job.

5.) If you want to buy an item and alter it, and the altering involves size changes or darts, buy one size up if you can. If it’s just ruffles or hems, don’t worry about it.

6.) Neckline and sleeve changes will cost a bit more, as will taking up pants that have a too-low crotch or saggy butt. Hemline changes should be cheap.

7.) It is possible, just harder, to alter an item that’s too small to be larger – generally it involves adding panels at the sides. Don’t let a tailor tell you it can’t be done – it can. It will involve extra work for you, finding fabric you like or that matches to add to the sides, though. Find this by bringing the item with you to Yongle Market and searching. If you use a tailor at the same market, he or she can probably recommend a few places, as well, if you speak Chinese.

8.) Bring along an item or picture of an item whose shape you love that can be used to demonstrate the alteration you want. This is especially helpful for t-shirts: you can buy t-shirts in fabrics you like in men’s sizes and cuts, bring your favorite women’s t-shirt to the tailor and have her adjust the men’s t-shirt to a more flattering shape for you. I have an Old Navy “women’s perfect tee” that I love, from before they tried to ape American Apparel (which I don’t love) and I regularly buy men’s t-shirts that I like, bring my purchase and the Old Navy tee to the tailor and have her alter the new tee to a flattering women’s form.

9.) Beware the Waist: Taiwanese women’s bodies generally look good with tops nipped at the waist just above the hips, or with a tubular waist/hip shape. This may work for you, or it may not. A lot of tailors don’t work with foreigners often or at all, so they may not “get” that an adjustment that would work for a Taiwanese body won’t flatter a foreign one. Know where the waist curve will look best on you: for some it’s just above the hips, for some it’s midway, for others it’s just below the bust (almost empire style, but you can have a below-bust curve without an empire hem). Know this and demand it, or your item might turn out less flattering than it started. I look best with below-bust curves, so when I take in items I use fingers to nip the item in there, to show that I want it to curve there, and then to be a bit looser over the tummy. I’ve found it works.

Now, for getting clothes copied:

You all know, I hope, about Yongle Fabric Market on Dihua Street near Nanjing W. Road. The second floor of the huge, hideous building (attached to a much more attractive old brick market façade) is a maze of fabric sellers offering every textile you could ever want (except dupioni/Thai silk – for that go to the shop on the 2nd floor of the southwest corner of Nanjing/Yanping Roads above the watch store).

I strongly recommend women leaving for Taiwan or who are home visiting and want more clothes, and have clothes they like now, to specifically bring items they’d like copied. It’s a good way to increase wardrobe by adding similar items in different colors and to replace clothing you love but that’s falling apart and can no longer be worn except around the house.
First, bring the items you want copied with you and wander Yongle Market to find new fabric to copy them in. Pay attention to types of fabric and make sure you buy something that will be just as flattering in that shape: if the shirt you love has a bit of stretch, the fabric you buy should also have a bit of stretch. If you buy a stiffer, no stretch textile, it might not work.
You can change various elements of the item, as well. In the lanes around Yongle Market (especially one that leads off Minle Street – 民樂街 – one road to the east – to Yanping N. Road; it’s the lane that’s north of the lane with the little wet market) you can find ribbons, embroideries, lace, beads etc. that can be added to make your copied items unique and different from the original. In the far south exit of the brick-fronted market itself you can buy all sorts of cool buttons to add.

I haven’t had this done in Taiwan yet (I did it all the time in India), but I believe the Chinese word you want is “fu4 ben3” – 複本 – which means “to duplicate”.

If you want any changes from the original, speak up now. It is perfectly possible to copy the same thing but make it longer/shorter/sleeveless/collarless (or with a collar)/different skirt/different neckline/bigger/smaller/with ties/with a belt/etc..

Finally, be aware that fabric is sold by the “ma” (I don’t know the character, but it’s basically a meter or close to it) – and comes in two standard widths, one wider and one narrower (usually the cheaper stuff comes in the narrow width, as do the faux silk Chinese brocades). You will of course need more fabric if what you buy is narrow – your tailor will tell you how much you need. A short dress might require three “ma”, a shirt might take a “ma” and a half, and you’re looking at 5+ for a full-length dress.

Custom clothing is the hardest, and the most expensive (because it’s also the hardest for the tailor!), but a great option if you are in Yongle Market, see something you like, and think “wow, that bias-cut black cotton would make a great wrap dress” or “I could get a suit jacket made from these two fabrics” or “I’m invited to a formal function in Taiwan, don’t have a dress, can’t find anything to fit me and don’t trust that something I order online will look good” (or just “I need new seasonal clothes and shipping fees if you order from foreign brands online are higher than you want to pay – they usually start at about $26 USD).

Your best bet for this is to find pictures similar to what you want – several pictures to show different features, and if you are talented this way, try to draw a picture with pencil and colored pen to outline how you want it all to come together.

This is also good for you, not just the tailor – I don’t know about others but I get ideas for clothing all the time that seem great in my head, but like various elements of a dream that don’t make sense once you expose them to conscious daylight, all the things I think I want in an article of clothing end up not working out well or even making sense. Trying to draw your idea forces you to confront your idea’s flaws.

Buy a pattern if you wish (I’ve never seen one in Taiwan but you can buy them online), but most tailors will be able to work without one, and will in some cases make their own.
This will likely take longer, cost more and require more trips to the fabric market for you to seek out lining and other necessary fabrics (sometimes your tailor will do this for you, but may charge you for his or her time).

This will also require several visits to the tailor for fittings, and if the final product is not flattering or what you had in mind, it is expected that the tailor will fix it free of charge (unless what you wanted was thoroughly unrealistic – I’m reminded of a story from Australia of a rather zaftig woman who demanded a tube dress with a tulle stick-out mermaid skirt, provided cheap fabric and who berated the tailor who made it because the final product didn’t make her look slender).

For big projects – such as a wedding dress – it’s a good idea to tip. My dress, in the end, cost NT$5000 for custom tailoring (a steal compared to the USA) and took over a year to get right, including one complete rebuilding of the unsatisfactory skirt. I gave my tailor (Li Mei) NT$600 extra in a red envelope and she seemed to appreciate it. She definitely did not refuse it, at least!
Again, pay attention to the fabric – some fabric just won’t drape the way you want or fall the way you want. If you speak Chinese, your tailor can inform you of what will work and what won’t. If you don’t, I advise bringing a Chinese-speaking friend along at least once to discuss all of these things, and a dictionary (I recommend Pleco for iPhone and iPod Touch with the handwriting screen add-on) for tough words like “dart”, “sweetheart neck”, “drape” and “chiffon”. Taking it back to the tailor to say “the skirt doesn’t fall the way I like” when you picked a fabric that will never fall that way can be categorized under “unreasonable”.

Your best bet for a tailor who can create custom works from scratch is Yongle Market – most tailors in other parts of the cities focus on alteration and repair, not creation.

Had clothing made on Dihua Street? Got an experience to share or tailor or fabric stall to recommend? Let me know!

Our Taiwan Wedding Party

Spoiler alert: if you are one of my real-life friend or family readers and are attending our wedding in LESS THAN TWO WEEKS (yay!), and have not yet seen my dress, don't read on until after the big shebang.

Since I don't think too many relatives or US-based friends of mine read this blog (a few do), and those who do have already seen pictures of my Yongle Market tailored wedding dress, I feel I can post it here (I already did, from the back, when I wrote about planning from abroad).

Anyway, yesterday was our Taiwan Wedding, meaning a small snacks-and-socializing get-together for a small group of our friends, whom we invited to attend our US wedding and who are unable to do so.

Thanks, Taiwan work culture. You STINK, with your compulsory unpaid overtime, cultural aversion to saying no to an authority figure, implication in offices that leave = laziness, unreasonable bosses and low pay. I love this country but its office culture has got to go. People work too hard, earn too little and can't do things like attend a good friend's wedding in the USA because management is completely unreasonable. Something really needs to change - this working onesself to death thing doesn't work in Japan (see how broken elements of their economy are - adults living with parents, not getting married, refusing promotions because they don't want to work even harder, or unable to find jobs) and it doesn't work here either.

I am so happy I don't have a local style job. I'd have moved back to the USA years ago if I had to work that way, and so it's no surprise to me that 21% of Taiwanese adults would move abroad if they could do so easily.

Ahem. Anyway. I don't have all the pictures yet, but I hope to soon (I didn't take any - our friends all did).

We started at 7 with an extended coffee table laden with:

- mango passionfruit salsa and regular Tostitos (a welcome change after nasty Doritos) - made in part by Brendan with my direction

- hummus with baguette rounds, cherry tomatoes and carrots

- pesto, sundried tomato and cream cheese spread, cheese plate, pepper ham and crackers

- a wedding "大餅" filled with meat and egg yolk (not my favorite)

- beer-cooked sausage bites with pepper, onion and mushroom

- betel flower and tomato salad made by Emily with my direction

- a delicious chocolate cake from My Sweetie Pie in Shida:

Here's the story: one day, I asked Brendan why he didn't have any sweet pet names for me, like "honey" or "dear" or "foofyface" or whatever. He replied, "OK, I'll make up a name for you. Fish...sock!" Ever since then "Fish Sock" has been our term of endearment for each other.

And yes, I Rickrolled our Taiwan Wedding Cake.

Plus there vodka and punch, Australian white wine, tonic, a few bottles of soda and tons of Asahi and Taiwan beer.

I had eaten two seaweed triangles and one egg tart all day so the minute the food was out I poured myself a vodka punch and dug into the cheese plate and hummus.

We kicked off around 7 as people slowly trickled in and got into full swing closer to 8. It was great to see most of my Taiwan friends in one place again - we hadn't hosted a party since Christmas (saving money for the wedding) and hadn't seen many friends, like Sasha, in an entire season. Not everyone could be there - Joseph is in the USA and Aliya was attending a huge birthday party for a friend in Kending.

Around 9 I finally got it together and put on first my rehearsal dinner dress - I don't have a good picture yet, but it's cerulean blue and copper with a tiered tea-length skirt. It's more formal than what everyone else will be wearing but as the bride I figure it's OK to be one notch fancier.

Then I changed out of that and put on my wedding dress for everyone. I had planned to do the whole shebang - jewelry, makeup, shoes - but realized at the last minute that makeup would take me about 45 minutes and all my jewelry is packed already. Oops. Still looked pretty good, though, and I got to test sitting down in it, which I hadn't done before:

Note the cat in the background looking utterly disinterested.

I was carping on before about how I ended up with brown hair after my very pricey salon job the other day. I'd kind of wanted red with highlights. Now that I see this photo - red with highlights wouldn't have looked good with this dress. At all. I'm finally OK with the color I ended up with.

It was determined that Brendan was not fancypants enough with me in my dress, so he donned Emily's girlish fedora. Backwards.

We had, in fact, hoped for something more upscale and elegant - taking everyone out to Alley Cat's in Huashan and buying dinner and drinks, for example - but the budget for the big wedding ate all that up, so a smaller, at-home party it was. It was a lot of fun, too: I don't think we could have had more fun at Alley Cat's than we did in our own apartment. The people, not the venue, really make the event.

I blame the vodka punch for the rendition of "聽媽媽的話“ that Emily and I did later - basically, only in Taiwan would a song like "Listen To Your Mom" (the translation of the famous Jay Chou song referenced above) be a chart-topping hit. So imagine if the Backstreet Boys or some other boy band tried a song on a similar theme. Then get two girls buzzed on good food, good company and vodka punch who have both had some vocal/musical training sit on the couch singing it, improvised and a capella. That's what you'd get. It was atrocious and wonderful!

I don't think I've ever shown the front of my dress on here, so I'll put it below, without the obi sash train, taken with me and my tailor in Yongle Market (the part that smells like pig brains):

Not what little girls dream of when they imagine their wedding dress, but just perfect for me!