My Taiwan Valentine

awwwwwwww

"My Taiwan Valentine" being different from "My Taiwanese Valentine", of course. If I had a Taiwanese valentine I think Brendan might be a leeeeeeettle upset.

First, enjoy this. Watch the video, too.

And enjoy this. I think next year Brendan is getting Easter candy and a bag of hammers.

So generally we're not big V-day celebrators. Not because I'm anti-Valentine's day, but rather that I'm anti-crappy chocolate (and most of what's sold on V-day is crap). I'm also, while not the sort who says "I don't want to feel pressured to express my feelings by marketing behemoths for their profit" (although there's some truth to that), I am the sort who has come to realize how unimportant the day really is when you're in a good relationship. I have found that stuff like this takes on outsized proportion when things are bad - like you need that planned expression of affection on the corporate-mandated day to prove to yourself that things really are OK. When things are good, you don't care as much about meeting these expectations.

For me anyway. Some folks are in great relationships and still place importance on days like this, and that's fine too.

But, Brendan and I still like to spend time together, and figure there's no harm in having some of that time be around Valentine's Day. This year, however, we're both working in the evening. In a few short hours I'll be back on the HSR to Hsinchu to teach in the Science Park. Since the day itself is not that important, we had our Valentine's Day Love Fest on Sunday - and took advantage of the gorgeous weather.

We took the Maokong Gondola   - I know a lot of people worry about its safety but I personally think it's fine. I've been on it many times and do not fear that something will go wrong. They should change the name, though. "Gondola" is a dumb name for a cable car, and it's doubly annoying to have to teach students what a "gondola" is and then shrug my shoulders when they ask why that was the name chosen for the cable car.

As you can see, we shared a car with a group of women from SE Asia. At first I thought they were Filipina (I thought they were speaking Tagalog) but now I'm not sure - they didn't say much. They could have been Thai. I know they weren't Vietnamese by the language spoken. They spent most of the time taking glamour shots of themselves, though, not chatting - so it's hard to say.

This is a tough time of year to take the Gondola - with the cherry blossoms on Maokong in bloom, if the weather is even remotely decent and it's a weekend, the thing is packed. We were blessed with a lovely, clear day on Sunday, so we had to wait about an hour to board. They were handing out required "reservation" tickets with boarding times. We arrived at 1:37pm and were handed a ticket for 2:30-2:45. We expected this, though.

There aren't as many cherry blossoms on Maokong as on Yangming Mountain, but enough that the easier task of taking the gondola - vs. driving or taking a bus up Yangmingshan - is a good alternative. They also bloom much earlier in Taiwan than elsewhere (esp. Japan) due to the warmer weather.

It's fairly common in every country where Valentine's Day has made some inroads - it's certainly known in Taiwan - for people to celebrate it when they're young and in love and forget about it when they're old fuddy-duddy marrieds (like me!). I kind of understand that: as I said, if your relationship is good, then Valentine's Day, birthdays, other holidays etc. stop becoming a barometer of your relationship status or "goodness", because you don't need them.

What I've noticed in Taiwan, though, is a different sort of not celebrating Valentine's - in the US you'll get the V-day haters, and the ones who are romantic but not on that day, or the ones who are fine without romance but don't really announce that. You get those who say "oh, we don't bother" but they rarely explain it with "because we've been married for so long". Usually there's an implication that there's romance elsewhere or at other times.

I think this couple had a similar idea
for how to spend the day

In Taiwan, you get the older married folks who not only admit to not celebrating Valentine's, but  say that it really is because they're older and married, and, you know, everyone knows that old married folks don't have romance (that last part isn't actually spoken, but it's implied heavily in the tone), that's for crazy young kids. Not that I ask, but I get the strong sense that there is an acceptance of less romance in these relationships overall. Not so much that they don't bother with Valentine's Day, but that they don't bother with that kind of romantic expression at all.


I can't be sure of this, of course - many American couples wouldn't necessarily cop to having a romance-free marriage, and I could be reading the tone wrong in Taiwan, and be adding an implication that wasn't intended: perhaps the tone used merely conveys a deeper sense of privacy about such  things.

But, you know, while divorce - at least in Taipei - is reaching numbers that rival the US's divorce rate, the whole concept of divorce being acceptable, or no-fault divorce, or even "wow, it's not the woman's fault, we can't automatically blame the wife for not being pliant or dutiful enough" divorce, is fairly new in Taiwan. The idea of remaining single by choice or because you  have high standards is new, too - especially for women. It's a more recent change, which means that old feelings of "you marry because it's socially expected, you have kids because you should and you stay in that marriage even if you're not happy, and even if that can't be fixed, even if your husband as a mistress" still linger. I could see how that would bring about a feeling of "eh, people who have been married for awhile don't have, don't need and shouldn't expect romance or love" which might be echoed in the comments I hear.

But enough dreariness. The weather was so balmy and rejuvenating that, between soft pink sakura and bright blue sky, who can help but feel that love is a beautiful thing?

After walking around - and dodging traffic - we settled in at Mountain Tea House, a short walk from the gondola station but beyond most of the crowds. We go there often, because the view is good and the food is tasty. I especially recommend the Lemon Diced Chicken (檸檬雞丁).

As per my blog's namesake, I brewed lao ren cha and we talked, chatted, ate snacks, and quietly read or studied Chinese. I don't consider retreating behind a book to be unromantic (retreating behind a computer or iPod is more unromantic to me, not sure why) - part of what makes our relationship so great is that we can both be quiet and doing our own thing, and still feel a vibrant connection. That's important - because who can talk all day and all night to one person? Even if you have that early chemistry that makes you want to just spill your guts and talk for hours, it eventually fades (not completely, but it does) and something needs to be there to replace it. A connection that transcends conversation.

We also spent a little time taking glamour shots of ourselves.  Here's my frank admission: while I'm fine with being curvy and average looking in real life, there are two things I know are true about my looks:

1.) I am really not photogenic. At all. Even if I look fine in real life, I look terrible in most photos. I'm OK with that, too, until I actually see the photos, which I quickly delete or de-tag.

2.) I have one really great feature. One thing that, when I look in the mirror, I think "wow, that's just great. That looks good". One thing that helps me be totally OK with being otherwise completely average-looking. I won't tell you what it is. I think I've mentioned it before, and anyway it should be pretty clear. 

So, when good photos of me come along - which happens about once a year, if that - I milk those babies for all they're worth, because it'll be awhile before more good ones are taken.

But first, some glamour shots of my super handsome, I mean really handsome, I mean "da-yum how did I land me such a hottie" husband.

I *heart* the green eyes

I mean I love him regardless, I'd love him even if his face got all messed up or he gained 200 pounds. I'd love him if he was not so good-looking...but you gotta admit, I lucked out in the Hot Husband department.

Then, Brendan took some shots of me, when the sun was providing good light:

We stuck around past sunset, because I love the night view from Maokong. I also have a camera now that has a timer, so I can set it on a flat rail and take decently focused night shots, as though I had a tripod.

Then we ventured down to Nanjing E. Road for dinner at Ali Baba's Indian Kitchen, but that's not terribly exciting - just tasty!

SYS Memorial Hall Lantern Festival 2012

I am a horrible, lazy person. I went to this last week and didn't put up photos, or even edit them, until yesterday (Catherine here certainly beat me to the punch by about 7 days). I've had a long week - I unexpectedly found myself in Hsinchu three nights out of five working in the Science Park, and that not only takes a lot of time (for which I am well compensated, don't feel bad for me) but also a lot of energy.  Generally on Wednesdays I get to race back up to Taipei at warp speed in the passenger seat of a student's car, but that student was on a business trip so it was the HSR for me - which is great, but when you factor in MRT and taxi times it still takes awhile.

But, here, enjoy - we didn't make it to Pingxi this year but we did, for the first time, make it to Sun Yat-Sen Memorial Hall, where an entirely different sort of lantern is on display. It's slightly less crowded, too - although even at some distance from the hall it was hard to get a seat anywhere for dinner. We ended up at Harbin Dumpling King and got the last available table. All out of dumplings but that was OK, they still had spiced lamb kebab!

Mmmm spiced lamb kebab - I could go and just eat this.

The lanterns at SYS are spread out over four axes, coming together at a central sculpture by the fountain on the Ren'ai Road side which, every thirty minutes or so, puts on a water and laser show that also involves fire around the edges. A bit corny but fun to watch as part of a crowd.

Now, my camera doesn't take great night photos - even though what I'm using now is technically a professional camera. I'm not sure why this is - you'd think with its huge lens and pro specs that it would do a better job. My best guess is that, because it is a pro camera and not a little one you can shove in your purse, that Canon assumed that for shots like these you, as a real photographer, would obviously have a tripod. I mean duh. But I don't and even if I did I wouldn't want to lug it around this crowd or try to set it up in the unending stream of people.

But, you know, enjoy anyway!

Many of the lanterns this year focused on dragons - "Year of the Dragon", "around the world", "Taipei" and "Taiwan" were popular, if not necessarily creative, themes (love the dragon above though. I think he was my favorite lantern of all).

I also quite like this white tiger. The White Tiger Star is apparently very important in this dragon year, meaning many people will be more prone to sickness or accidents - including those born in the year of the monkeys (that would be me - great).

Less crowded and arguably more romantic was the walk through the park near SYS and Taipei City Hall - the trees were decked in fairy lights and the winding paths were perfect for a short walk hand-in-hand with a loved one (awww).

Back to SYS - we didn't make it through the entire festival - it was just to crowded - although in retrospect I wish we'd stuck it out. At the time it seemed like they were all starting to blend together, but now, looking back at my photos, I can see how different and unique - and well-made - many of the lanterns were.

Also, robots!

 I have to say that I think this one is a tad...I dunno. I raised my eyebrows for sure. I think the guy with a bone in his hair is meant to be a Taiwanese aborigine, which, c'mon - maybe a little racist? The generic white kid is, I think, meant to be French (there's an Eiffel Tower next to a Native American to the right of this photo). I"m not quite sure what to make of it. There's a Pyramid, too!

I didn't get that close to some of the lanterns - it was really a madhouse on Sunday. If you go next year (assuming it's not still going on), try for a weeknight. Trust me.

 These are some of my favorites, too - I love the detailed paint job that gives this set of lanterns more depth.

The park across the street has a whole set of lanterns from Chinese mythology.

Not Fluent, Stop Asking

Photo from this site

It's been 5 1/2 years. 5 1/2 years of learning Chinese - with some extended breaks, but make no mistake, I learned on those breaks, too. I suppose you could count that tortured year in China in 2002 when I taught myself basic survival Chinese, but looking back, I have to wonder. I feel now as though I knew nothing then. At this point, especially as it's clear that I do speak Chinese, although not perfectly, I get a lot of people asking me "You must be fluent, huh. What's that like?" or "So, are you fluent?"

I never know how to answer them. Am I fluent? I personally would say "no", but I don't really know because I don't know what "fluent" means in real terms. Am I fluent in that I can go an entire day and speak/read/write/hear nothing but Chinese with no problem? Yes. Am I fluent in that I can read, I dunno, Confucius? Hell to the NO. Am I fluent in that I don't make mistakes? Of course not.

After five years of mostly self-study, should I be? I don't know. I'd certainly speak at a "higher level" if I'd continued to study hard and attend Shi-da, but I met plenty of people at Shi-da at my level or above who were too nervous or just not, ahem, "fluent" enough to get sentences out that come easily to me, so I don't know.

So, let's explore this whole "fluency" thing.

The idea that "fluency" in a foreign language isn't something that can be measured easily, nor are the metrics to determine it agreed on by any stretch has been pretty well covered online and in the many conversations serious language learners have with each other.

There are some who believe that you're only fluent if you can communicate flawlessly - think on the level of interpreters or native speakers of more than one language. There are others who feel that if you can converse and basically communicate what you need to and get by in day-to-day life vis-a-vis spoken and written communication, even if you make mistakes, then that means you're fluent. Still others have what I view as a warped idea that if you're able to read, write, analyze, do research in and know the classical background of a language, than regardless of how well your speaking of that language flows, then that means you're fluent. A teacher at Shi-da's Mandarin Training Center once told me that if you complete all five books in their series and do fairly well, then you count as "fluent".

Well, let me tell you, I'm on the last book - Book 5 (I never took the class for it, but I own it and have flipped through it and there is a lot that I already know, plus a few things I need to learn) - and I don't feel as close to this "fluency" thing as this teacher confidently asserted I should.

By the first definition, I will never be fluent in Chinese. I can study and study, but I'm never going to reach a point where I speak it, ahem, flawlessly - but then, what does "flawlessly" even mean? Some snob in Beijing might listen to a perfectly fluent native speaker of Chinese from Taipei and proclaim that her Chinese is not "flawless". I might be able someday to interpret Chinese into English, but probably never the other way around. I'll always have a "different", non-native sounding way of speaking it. 

But then, by this definition students of mine who speak far better English than I do Chinese - who have done Master's and even PhD degrees abroad - are not "fluent" because they still make mistakes. I have a friend who got an Master's in the USA and still forgets to put verbs in the past tense occasionally. I have a student - a psychiatrist - who got her PhD at Cambridge and who still makes occasional mistakes or says things in a clearly non-native way or  using awkward grammar, and who doesn't always know just the right adjective or noun for specialized words ("incomprehensible" was on her vocabulary review list recently). With the grammar mistakes she makes - never big, always at a high level, but still noticeable - many language assessment ratings wouldn't put her at an advanced level; she's currently placed in high intermediate (although I teach her as though she's advanced).

But dude, she got her PhD at Cambridge. Can you really say she's "not fluent"?

I have plenty of students who score, in terms of vocabulary range and grammar knowledge, in the mid-intermediates. I'd say it's the biggest group of learners I encounter, and that there are barriers in language learning that keep many language learners at that level. Here's the thing - they make mistakes. They use prepositions of time all wrong, and forget all sorts of tenses and other bits of speech - like conditionals and reported speech - come out a bit wonky (although generally their point is clear). But they can get by just fine. They can handle - and often have handled - life in an English speaking country just fine (although they all claim it's a struggle - well, duh. Sometimes communicating in Chinese in Taipei is a struggle for me. I don't think that ever goes away). They can converse, they can make themselves clear, they can understand spoken English face-to-face. At times it's hard for me to judge how much their understanding is based on grading of my speech, because I now grade my speech almost subconsciously. I would guess that rapid English from one native speaker to another, if it were two people conversing, would be generally understandable but more challenging, with some missed meaning in idioms and nuance. They can generally read just about anything at a higher level than I can read Chinese, but that's hardly surprising. Anyone learning Chinese as a second language feels my pain, my beautiful torment! Other than in obvious spoken mistakes - which rarely obscure meaning - the only time one might question the fluency of these students of mine is in watching television or movies or trying to discern song lyrics.

Which, you know, is just about where I'm at. There are some differences: I tend to know a lot more Chinese slang and idiomatic speech than my students know in English (although they constantly surprise me: once I was discussing "charisma" in political leaders with a student and mentioned Bill Clinton. "Even after the Republicans tried to push him out of office..." Student: "Oh, I know! Because of a blowjob!"...as I produce a fountain of spurting coffee from my nose). I can understand bits of casual conversation between native speakers more easily. I can produce Chinese without having to translate from English in my head. If someone speaks to me in Chinese, Chinese comes out of my mouth in reply without a second thought. This isn't surprising, given that I'm learning on my own in an immersion environment and pick up most of my Chinese from friends. 

They tend to know higher level / business / professional language and read far better than I can - again, not surprising as English is, I believe, easier to read than Chinese and they use their English skills for work, not socializing. It still stuns me how few of my Taiwanese friends have other foreign friends besides me - although some certainly do, and how rarely I come across a student who answers in the affirmative when I ask if they have foreign friends. Colleagues, business partners, acquaintances, yes - friends? Not really.

So, I need to work on more formal Chinese and business Chinese (and reading/writing!) and they need to work on more casual, quick, no-head-translations-please English with a wider range of vocabulary.

But, generally speaking, I can live my life in Chinese without much problem. I can call repairmen, go to B&Q, order food (even foreign food), talk about all sorts of topics from economics to geography to religion to media to history to basic office matters and more (I remain weak in sports, but even in English I don't care about sports). I haven't tried yet but I suspect I could pull off a job interview in Chinese, albeit with mistakes. I can more or less follow the news, although I know I miss a great deal of nuance and pick up a lot from the accompanying visuals. I can do an informal business presentation in Chinese (and have) and can follow other presentations. I can participate in and head a Q&A session in Chinese (and have). I can't read that well when it comes to newspapers or books but I can and do interact with friends on Facebook in Chinese - including fairly meaty posts and messages. I can type just fine but my writing is...well, I can fill out forms and write short notes and postcards by hand, but not much more. I'd feel bad about this, but I have plenty of students who routinely forget how to write even basic characters by hand. I feel ever so vanquished when one student turns to another and asks, "how do you write putao (grape) in Chinese?") THANK YOU.

I know where this places me, and my various students, on the scale of typical "levels" in any given language, but where does it put us in terms of fluency - which I have come to believe is a separate thing?

I don't know. I know that, no matter what Shi-da says, I'm not as close to my ideal of fluent as their system implies. I know that, while my students make intermediate-level mistakes, that while they may not believe it's true, I know that they can get along in an English-speaking environment. 

I personally believe that I'll feel "fluent" when I can turn on the news, move away from the TV and do something else, and still understand in a fair amount of detail what's going on without having to look at the visuals. The other day I had to get a knife refurbished as it had developed a bit of rust (and it was a very expensive knife) -  I could explain that my knife had a problem - here, take a look! - and could you please fix it, but the word "rust" eluded me. When I came to this cafe earlier, I told them that I did not want a particular seat as my backpack would  jut out into the hallway and people could trip over it. I managed to make myself clear, but fairly awkwardly and certainly with a few mistakes. When I can get through exchanges like these with total confidence - even if there are a few mistakes - I'll feel fluent. When I can look at a menu of foreign food and read off my selection perfectly - not nearly perfectly except for that one character I don't know, dammit! What IS that? Oh but they know what I mean - I'll feel fluent. When I can read a blog post clearly or get the gist of a newspaper article in greater detail (I can get the gist now, but basically detail-free), I'll feel fluent. When the number of workarounds I need to make a point clear are diminished considerably - and it becomes a tool I employ rarely rather than fairly often - I'll feel fluent.

When will that be? I don't know. I work towards it, but I do it in my own rambling way.

Do I ever aspire to speak flawlessly? No. I have no aspirations toward interpreting English into Chinese for official purposes, and I have no aspirations to academia in Chinese. Cool as it would sound - yeah, well, I'm totally a professor of Chinese, so there! - I know that's not the path for me. My relationship with the language has always been more street-level, more everyday, less academic. I *heart* academia, but as an abstract, not as a career goal. At heart I'm a traveler and a networker, an adventure-seeker and an organic learner. I am not a researcher and not someone who believes you can put the strictures on language that so many academics would like to put on it. 

 

Do I aspire to speak more comfortably? Yes. I'm not sure if, after five and a half years, I've missed some benchmark that I could have hit if I'd only studied harder, or if my organic "it happens when it happens and I am learning" approach has done me more good.

I just don't know, but it's all worth thinking about.

So if you, too, are not fluent and wish people would stop asking as though fluent were a concept whose metrics everyone agreed on or as though there was a benchmark, rather than a scale, of fluency -  don't beat yourself up. You're not alone. I'm here, too!

The Chinese Jungle

Photo from this site - please don't sue me

There have been a lot of online petitions and public outcry in the West recently over the treatment Chinese factory workers endure. Most of it, thanks to This American Life, The Daily Show and other outlets, has been directed at Apple, whose products are made in China by vendors and suppliers.

My feelings on this: I agree completely with the sentiment, but activists: UR DOIN IT RONG. Putting pressure on Apple might bring about some small improvements but really it's like threatening the Death Star but letting Palpatine and Darth Vader run amok. 

Don't get me wrong: I agree. Factory workers in China are forced to live horrific lives. Excruciatingly long work days, mind-explodingly boring jobs putting together the same small part hundreds of times a day, all day, every day, dormitories that house more to a room than a cash-strapped college dorm (and those in the same room don't even know each other), bosses who regularly treat workers badly (and have been known to treat female workers like sex objects) - it's truly disgusting. It's something nobody should accept or put up with. It's Upton Sinclair for the 21st Century, and we rich folks with iPhones - yes, I am using "rich" to mean comparatively well-off, not 1% rich - aid and abet it by buying the products and often rewarding the lower prices that inhumane labor practices allow by buying more of the products when prices are lower. I'm totally on board with that. It's a massive, evil thing. I have wanted a new smartphone since my old one was stolen, but I haven't bought one not only because I'm trying to be careful with money, but also because the thought of supporting that system sickens me. 

Of course, every time I buy something made in China or really any developing country, I'm still supporting that system - I can't deny that. 

The thing is, Apple isn't doing this. Apple is surely aware of it, and Apple turns a blind eye to it, yes, but Apple isn't doing it themselves. 

Those employees don't work for Apple - they work for Foxconn, or any of the other vendors and suppliers that Apple has approved  (although Foxconn is the biggest). Apple is not Foxconn. Foxconn is not Apple. Sure, Apple aids and abets Foxconn's treatment of workers in China, but they're not the same company. You can't say "Apple needs to change its labor practices" or "Apple's workers" - they're not Apple's workers. Foxconn needs to change its labor practices - as does pretty much every other manufacturer with plants in Dongguan, Kunshan or anywhere else in China.

It's not even that simple: Apple hires ODM and OEM firms for its various parts - often different components, from speakers to camera modules to touch screens - are made by different companies. This is true of basically every electronic product you buy - the people who actually design and produce the stuff you use aren't Toshiba, Dell, Acer, Apple etc.: they're companies you've never heard of (I'd name names but I actually teach for a lot of these companies and have signed non-disclosure agreements - to say anything that could be perceived as negative about specific ones on this blog could land me in legal trouble or see me out of a job. So I won't - because I'm totally a part of the system too). 

Even they have vendors - a lot of what Foxconn "produces" is actually designed through a complex system of vendors who design and manufacture the components, and a lot of guanxi (networking) is involved in which vendors get which contracts.

What's more, as most people who live in Taiwan know, the design and R&D in these companies tend to happen in offices in Taiwan, where the design and engineering talent seems to be concentrated. The manufacturing happens in China, often at factory sites owned by the Taiwanese companies and headed up by Taiwanese bosses. The guys who design this stuff are Taiwanese, the poor sods in the factories are Chinese, and their Taiwanese bosses often have little sympathy (side note: this is not always true. I teach at companies like these and often have students who are sent to China for long periods to deal with manufacturing issues. A lot of them are good people who agree that working conditions are abysmal and would like to do something about that. Let us not paint them all with the same brush).

So Apple - or whoever - calls up Foxconn to talk production. Foxconn assigns vendor codes to other companies who help design components (although Foxconn doesn't seem to farm out manufacturing, it  does at times farm out design). Those guys are all in Taiwan or occasionally Korea. Their lives are not as horrific as the Chinese factory workers', but they still work terribly long hours - I'd say unfairly long, for relatively little pay - often arriving between 7 and 9am and working until late at night. Sometimes they're lucky and get to go home by 7pm. Often they're in the office later, or bring work home and keep at it until midnight. These guys have sympathy for the horrific lives of the Chinese factory workers, but they're overworked themselves - what can they do? "This is just how it is" is a chorus you often hear repeated in this sad song.

This is why, while my heart is with the activists and those who speak up, deep down I just don't think it will work. Sure, you could put pressure on Apple, but the workers in question don't work for Apple. Apple can put pressure on Foxconn - threatening to change vendors, for instance - and Foxconn can decide whether or not to reform labor practices. It might have some effect, but probably not much, probably diluted, and probably short-lived.

Do you really think, though, that Terry Gou gives a damn about some American hippies whining about labor practices in Chinese factories? I assure you he does not. Terry Gou cares about money. You want to get Apple's attention and by extension Gou's? You stop buying iPhones and other Apple products. You make it clear through a strong PR campaign why it's happening. Then, and only then, might you have some impact on what Foxconn is doing. In the meantime, of course, a lot of engineers  - my students - working for ODM companies in Taiwan get laid off: a sad side effect. Most of them are just working their butts off 15 hours a day to support themselves and their families. Most of them don't want to see Chinese factory workers treated badly, either, but they want iPhones too - most have them - and they don't think there's anything they can do. Partly because "this is just the way things are" and partly because they're overworked too, and partly because their livelihoods are linked more closely to those Chinese factory workers.

And then, if labor practices do improve, prices will go up. We say that's fine, but we're not everyone - sales probably will drop and Foxconn - whom I don't teach for, by the way - will find some other way to cut costs, or secretly go back to treating workers badly and try to do so in less transparent ways, or Apple will find another vendor who does the same thing. Plenty of Chinese workers who wanted to keep their terrible jobs would lose them. A blessing in disguise for some, a ticket to poverty for others.

It gets harder. You can say "well I just won't buy Apple products" but they all do this. HTC has been in the news for overworking its employees (I have no contract with HTC, I should add). Pretty much any electronic product you could buy is produced under conditions just as bad. You can't escape it by buying a dumbphone and giving up your mobile access: those same companies produce the components that go into dumb phones, too. If you want to escape it, you can't have any product whose components were made in China. If we all do this, that means, by extension, putting many of the overworked Taiwanese engineers out of work, too. You, my activist friend, are fucking stuck.  And it blows, it really does.

So how can it change? And how do I feel, being a part of this system?

Well, it probably won't change much at the hands of angry Westerners who want Chinese factory workers to have better jobs and lives - as much as I wish that could make a difference. It's systemic, and so the entire system needs to change. Asia - especially China, but really Asia as a whole - needs to have a worker's revolution not unlike the labor reforms that America went through post-Upton Sinclair. Ideas like "free time", "worker's rights", "fair pay" and "reasonable work responsibilities and hours" need to take hold. As of now, they have not - at least not in Chinese factories.

I don't hold up much hope that such ideas will transmit from the West to factories in China directly. I can't think of two things more different than the job of the person who makes the dingbat that makes something in an iPhone run and the job of the person who owns the iPhone. I can't think of anything more different than their two cultures, lives, life experiences and biases - although their desires and goals are probably fairly similar: after all, everyone wants a good job, good pay, free time and the chance to have a happy life.

I do, however, have some hope that these ideas will start to influence the tech company offices in Taiwan. In some ways, they already have. Taiwanese office workers are well aware of concepts like overtime pay, work-life balance and flex-time. They even get guaranteed maternity leave and a few days of paternity leave (which should be more, but that's a different post) - something Americans don't always get. More and more workers want those things, and more and more hope that once the economy picks up that wages will rise to fairer levels. The ideas are slow to infiltrate, but they are here and I believe they will burrow deeper as time goes on, especially if the economy improves.

From there, you could start to influence the Taiwanese factory bosses. Terry Gou and Cher Wang - who quite literally have had employees work themselves to death, a phrase that's used as a joke in the USA but is deadly serious here - might have an employee mutiny on their hands, or have trouble recruiting good engineers. They might then decide to start treating workers better. From there it could start to seep into China, and things might get better. Maybe. 

In tandem with that, the Chinese economy needs to develop - it needs to reach a point where many of those workers who are quite literally dying of overwork and mistreatment don't need those terrible jobs. Sure, manufacturing will likely be moved again, to another Third World country with abusive labor practices and it'll all start again, but maybe we'll all be more aware by then and it won't take so long to change things.

How do I feel about this? After all, my livelihood comes from working for these companies. I haven't named many names because I teach at many of them, and not only am I legally obligated not to bring up names, but I do respect my students. They are generally good people stuck in a crappy system, just like you and me.

Well, I feel like crap, sometimes, knowing that my salary is also paid, ultimately, off the back of these workers in China. That the Taiwanese companies wouldn't be able to afford the training budgets that pay for my services if they didn't treat the workers in their factories in China like beasts of burden.

I also feel like, as much as I am able, that the only way to make peace with this is to try to be a part of the solution - because this is my job, and I like my students, and I genuinely want them to gain business skills and improve their English so that they, too, can move up to something better, and I wouldn't be any morally cleaner teaching the engineers of tomorrow at some underpaid buxiban job.

It probably doesn't have much effect, but the best I can do is to be a grain of sand. An irritating, noticeable grain of sand in everyone's underpants that agitates and calls for change. I'm not shy in saying, when asked, that I think my students work too hard, that work culture in Asia is seriously. fucked. up. and that it's even worse in China, and hey guys, you know this so keep that in mind if you're ever the boss. I try to "be the change I want to see in the world" - I have a well-paid job and make it clear that my greatest benefit is free time and the ability to structure my own life and have a great deal of freedom. Some students don't really absorb the import of this; others think "great for her but this is how things are in Asia". Some, though, look at me like a light has turned on in their heads: if she can be free and earn a good living, and if she can balance life and work and be satisfied on both fronts, why can't I?  She is not automatically more entitled to it than I am because she is foreign, or white, or a native English speaker. I could do this too, if I really wanted to. Or could I? Could I? Hmm.

If nothing else - because there is nothing else I can do - I try to be an example of how important personal time, fair pay and a good life really is, and how that is worth fighting for. It may not do much now, but the more that this idea gains exposure in Asia, the better. I'm one person, there's not much I can do, and I'm not Asian and don't want to make this all White Man's Burden-y, but it is what I can do.

                                                                                                                

Not A Girly-Girl: Being an Unfeminine Female in Taiwan

Average-looking, not slim, no makeup, not "elegant", likes to swear and drink,
has chewed betel nut, could happily be a breadwinner, talks too much and has forceful opinions.

What other gender-driven expectations can we find and destroy?     

I'm having a weird form of writer's block: I have four posts I really want to write, and I can't seem to write any of them in a clear or coherent way.

So, I'm going to tackle something else and try not to make a mess of it. I want to talk a bit about not fitting local expectations of what women should be, and how that's affected my life in Taiwan. Good news: most of what I have to say is positive!

Awhile back, I wrote a post about the pervasive, and sad,"one white hides three uglies" belief and how being, well, white changes the dynamic of what is considered beautiful. This from me, someone who admits openly to being average looking, at best (and generally OK with that). I also wrote one on being a curvy white girl in a country full of slender Taiwanese women, and how while the comments and noticeably unspoken comments are made (or not made, but known), that being a Westerner shields me somewhat from the fat-shaming pervasive in Asia.

A quick side note about fat-shaming of Western women in Asia: I still get it, but not nearly as much as women of Asian heritage - whether or not they were born in Asia - do. Fun fact: while a lot of people might say that because it's more acceptable to comment on weight in most of Asia, that the fat-shaming would mostly come from locals, I've found that it mostly comes from other expats. Sure, the occasional blabbermouth obasan will say something, but the real reviling of curvy Western women seems to come from (not surprisingly, I'm sorry to say) expat men. I avoid most of it by not hanging out with people like that. Works wonders!

Back to the main point - any woman who lives in Taiwan long enough - or not even all that long - notices that expectations and behavior norms are stricter in Taiwan than in the West. This is also true for other Asian countries, and in most cases it's stronger. It was pretty awful in China, Brendan reported rampant sexism in Korea, which is usually a good sign that there are strict gender-based expectations of demeanor and behavior, and don't even get me started on Japan. India, for all of its issues regarding women's rights, seems to be a bit more accepting of great personality and even size variance in women. But let's stick to Taiwan for now.

Part of it is an expectation of girliness, not unlike the girlie-girliness discussed in this piece on Zooey Deschanel: not so much that women are expected to love polka dots, Hello Kitty, cell phone charms and glittery things, but that it's not considered odd for grown women to do so, and it's more comment-worthy if a girl or woman doesn't go in for that stuff than if she does. Examples: an older office worker I know of  through a third-party anecdote who has a cubicle full of Hello Kitty figurines.  Others in the office did not think this was odd. At all. Someone else I know of spoke of a mutual female acquaintance, saying "she's very smart, very interesting. She doesn't like Hello Kitty or bling-bling or anything like that." I could imagine "she's not a girly-girl" being said about a woman in the West, but not a comment along the lines of "she's not interested in cartoons or glitter". Huh? Why would she be?

But that's not all of it.  Some other gendered expectations I've noticed - many of them obvious but not often meditated on:

- The whole "elegance" thing. Women in Taiwan are not necessarily expected to be girly, but if they're not girly, they should be "elegant". There's an adjective in Chinese that I feel sums it up best: 典雅 or "classically elegant"- think in terms of the classic beauties of Chinese history. My observation of what this seems to entail is what you'd more or less expect: slim, pretty face, accomplished and articulate but doesn't say much, smiles and laughs but doesn't giggle, very clean and tidy, puts up with a lot of crap and rude behavior without comment.

It seems to me that as per Taiwanese culture, a woman can be girly, or she can be elegant, but those are the only two things she can be. "Quiet" and "nerdy" are also acceptable to some degree. Anything else - loud, outgoing, funny, aggressive - gets filed under "不懂" -  quirky, strange, unfeminine, coarse, or in my case, "it's OK, she's American. They're like that." Aggressive, however, is accepted once you reach a certain age.

I do feel back home that while, yes, there is pressure on women to be feminine, whether we're talking "girly feminine" or "elegant feminine", but you don't absolutely have to be. If you are a bit hard-nosed, a total brain, aggressive, funny, coarse, a bit difficult, a bit crazy but not in a girly way, a gamer, an emo, take on "masculine" hobbies, or are just not domestic or a bit sloppy, that's OK too. Some people might judge you, but your personality won't get filed under "I don't understand that at all".

My two anecdotes: out to dinner with a group of friends, some of whom did not know each other. I tell a story about a kid I saw wearing a t-shirt that said "Certified Muff Diving" on it, and had to explain that in Chinese. A friend (Taiwanese, female) said "Oh, I like it!". Foreigners thought it was funny. Locals laughed but looked slightly embarrassed. This particular friend is super awesome and quite attractive, but not "elegant" in the expected way. She's said she doesn't quite fit into Taiwanese society. This same friend met another friend's girlfriend - whom I like quite a bit, and I admit is the epitome of 典雅 - and said "wow, she's like the girl every Taiwanese man wants to marry". I said "really? Or are you exaggerating?" "No, I don't think I am."

The other: I had a similar discussion with a student while driving back from Hsinchu. He gave a mutual acquaintance as an example of a strong woman - who happens to out-earn her husband, to boot - as an example of someone who flouts this expectation. He was right in that she doesn't fit a lot of expectations of women in Taiwan (earning more than her husband, for one) but she is nothing if not elegant, with perfect hair, stylish dress and good taste. Even the expectation flouter doesn't flout this expectation!
                 
- Women don't drink much and they certainly don't drink Kaoliang or whiskey.  They absolutely do not chew betel nut. I drink whiskey and will drink Kaoliang if offered, but generally do not seek it out. When I attended a year-end party for a student's company, people were shocked that I not only drank whiskey, but drained the glass. When I go out with friends, the only women drinking whiskey are white (usually just me, though). I've had local friends over to drink, and the women tend to stay away from the whiskey: some don't drink at all, others stick to wine. Even if I'm just having beer I often get "wow, you drink a lot!" after, you know, two beers. Some women don't drink at all, but I do believe that's more that they can't physically handle it than an attempt at being more "feminine".

As for betel nut, when I ask students who has tried it, a few men inevitably raise their hands, but not once - not even once - have I encountered a woman who has tried it (or will admit to it), although I bet I'd find a few more down south if I were asking there. I've tried it three times. Twice of my own volition, once because it was offered to me at some temple parade.

- While plenty of Taiwanese women have careers - and good ones at that - it is much less common here for women to be breadwinners, and even less common for women to be OK with being a breadwinner.


My anecdote for this one: we're at a somewhat chi-chi bar before leaving for Turkey, chatting with two local friends. My husband had just had the worst of the visa issues he encountered hit him (which is why he changed jobs) and I hadn't even heard the bad news yet. I felt these were good enough friends that he could deliver the news in front of them, and he did. At some point I blurted out "You know, if they're being such ****s, seriously, quit. Just quit. I can support us. I make enough. You'd need another job for the visa but I can handle the money end. But we can talk about that more at home" (I generally don't make it a point to talk finances in front of friends but  it was a very stressful bit of news).                     I thought nothing of this until months later when one of the two friends - the guy - mentioned me on Facebook when linking to a blog post in Chinese about marriage. Roughly, he referred to me as "my gutsy foreign friend who even said she could support her husband, I was so shocked!". Later, again: "When I heard you tell your husband that he could quit and you would earn enough money, I knew you were a person with guts."

What is interesting about this is that it clearly shocked him enough to bring it up months later - not once, but twice - in a way that showed that he was clearly bowled over. Not so much that I mentioned finances but that a wife would tell her husband "it's fine, I make enough" and be perfectly OK with being the primary, or even only, breadwinner, even for a period.

I just can't imagine any of my foreign friends registering that deep level of shock at such a concept.

- Less swearing, and not loud! I swear a lot in all languages (my current favorite is Taiwanese. So expressive). 'Nuff said. This kind of plays into the "you can be girly or you can be elegant, or you can be nerdy or you can be shy. When you hit about 45 you can be aggressive" - none of these tropes has any room in it for women who swear, talk frankly, drink whiskey or chew betel nut. As for loudness - it's OK to be talkative - "chatty" talkative is also acceptable - but "loud" (as in volume or size of reaction) is not quite so accepted.

A final anecdote: a local female friend of mine who is quite loud, both in talkativeness and volume. She's told tales of dating woes - although my assessment of some of these stories is that the guys sound like Grade A Douchebags. She's also said that most people advise her to a.) use whitening cream and b.) be quieter and "more like a woman". As in, shut yer mouth, woman! People have actually told her that the problem is that she is too talkative, too outspoken and too loud. I find that sad.

I'd add some others, like filial obeisance and being humble, but those are expected of both genders. I'd add "expected to want to have children", but then the expectation that all women should want to become mothers and something is wrong with those that don't is quite strong in the West, too, as I'm finding out. It's surprising that this expectation is still so strong in a country with such a low birthrate, but I get the feeling that a lot of people have convinced themselves that most Taiwanese women who don't have children remain childless because they haven't found a mate (there are quite a few singly thirty and fortysomethings), not because they don't actually want children.

It's worth noting yet again that it's not that these expectations don't exist in the West, it's that in my experience they're more flexible, and there's room to flout them or only follow them to a minor extent. There's more room to be yourself, even if "yourself" is not very "feminine" at all, by conventional definition. Some idiot might call you "unfeminine" or try to shame you in some other way, but he'd be the exception, not a social trend. While women in both Taiwan and the USA complain that having "unfeminine" personalities often costs them dearly in the dating world, I'd say that Taiwanese women seem to be facing a bigger challenge.

Where does this leave me - and a lot of women like me? Not just my attitude (and to some extent my looks - not slender, either dressed like a dork or in jeans, no makeup,  air-dried hair) but my entire demeanor and personality - is coarse by these standards. My personality: casual, a bit loud, likes to swear, drinks whiskey

So,  I'm a total boor, a bull in a china shop (total cliche and not quite a pun, but close). I have to admit it, sometimes, in Taiwan, I feel like a slightly oblong, porous brick among women who are more reminsicent of smooth marble sculptures. A garrulous moon rock placed next to a Lalique vase. A giant square plopped down on a page covered in sinuous waves and lissome lines. A big ol' corner sticking out to disrupt the qi in a room with otherwise excellent feng shui.

It's like this: imagine sitting on the brown line MRT, wearing a sweater and jeans, hair a bit messy, maybe a zit or two, and noticing the woman across from me: shiny black hair, eyes closed, smile just so, cute little white headphones, tidy, well-fitting jacket. Elegant in a way I am not: I could get the haircut, the jacket, the headphones, but those are not really the issue. They wouldn't change much; the difference is too fundamental. I could varnish up the outside, but my insides would ooze through the cracks. I hope you like that mental image, by the way.

And yet,  it's not bad.

I mean that. It's not bad at all. Sure I feel a bit oblong or outsize at times, but what foreigner in any country doesn't? Sure, I feel "unfeminine" in Taiwan in a way I don't back home, but that's OK - was that feeling really all that important to me anyway? Is it really so bad to just be who I am and accept that I'm "chunky sweater and jeans girl" even if I'm not wearing a chunk sweater and jeans that day? I'm used to sticking out. I don't mind sticking out. I've even learned to use it to my advantage in the classroom. Being loud and weird is a great starting point for building a kind of rapport you'd never expect.

It's surely in part - possibly mostly - because I'm a Westerner, but reaction to my personality among students and acquaintances has been generally positive.

The friend I mentioned above who was clearly quite shocked by my willingness to be the chief earner, even temporarily? His reaction was not one of disgust, puzzlement, righteousness, anger or condescension, or any of the myriad reactions one gets when discussing gender politics: it was surprise, yes, and a bit of shock, but ultimately there was admiration there, too.  People seem surprised that my drinking habits are more in line with Taiwanese men than women, or that I've tried betel nut, - seen as the ultimate in coarse behavior in Taipei, but while that might get filed under the "不懂" section of female behavior, there isn't a lot of judgment.

Obviously my friends like me for who I am so I don't need to go into what they think of me. Students, however, are under no obligation to like me, but even in the most candid feedback I don't hear words along the lines of "rude", "coarse" or "loud" (I never hear "elegant" or "lovely" either) - I hear "funny", "energetic", "so different" and "interesting". Arguably I am not "so different" in the USA, where my own special brand of weird is not that weird at all, but here it really does seem to fall outside the norm of female behavior.

I think the most candid assessment came from a student who, not surprisingly, is a psychiatrist. I mentioned that my cat is "clearly insane" and he made some joke that pets have been shown to be influenced by the personalities of their owners. Later in that class I made some weird, dramatic joke that involved a lot of hand gestures. Student: "Now I see why your cat is insane!" He didn't mean it in a bad way, though.

So really, the issue isn't other people or repercussions of not fitting into expectations of femininity in Taiwan.  The issue is internal - it's about not fitting in and being farther outside the norm of gender expectations than in my native culture, and learning to be OK with that, possibly to even embrace it. If you do that - and believe me, I'm trying to - the confidence you can project will deflect any judgments that could possibly come your way. That can be nothing but good.

I can get away with this because I'm a Westerner, I know. A lot of Taiwanese women aren't in a similar position to be able to turn their unfemininity into a strength and be admired for it rather than told to be more "ladylike". Some are lucky, some break the mold. Many more don't. Many - most even - arguably don't want to, but I feel for those who do want to but feel they can't, or that they could, but the price would be too high.

You see, another friend and I told the talkative woman mentioned above not to listen to fools who would tell her that being "quiet" and "sweet" would cure her dating woes. "Listen to us," we said. "We're loud, we're weird, we don't wear makeup. We're not super skinny and we have a lot of opinions...and both of us have boyfriends. She [me] is about to marry hers. If you try to be someone you're not, and try to be this quiet, sweet girl who isn't really you, even if you find a boyfriend that way you won't be happy, because that's not you. Be who you are and the right guy will love you for it."

"But you don't understand. Taiwanese men are just like this! You can do it but it is hard for me."
"You CAN do it, though. You CAN be who you are and expect people to like you for that."
"I can, but..."

She can, but....

And that's just about where it's at.

Super fun update!  Someone left a comment saying "maybe you could go to the gym and lose weight....Then you could get a local boyfriend and that would make life meaningful." Hee hee. I'll go ask my husband now if I can have a local boyfriend because clearly my life is not meaningful now. Honey...?

Everything's Closed, or, My Chinese New Year Staycation

You know what it's like: the weather is a dark, drizzly Taipei Gray, roads are mostly devoid of people,   accordion metal pull-down doors cover every storefront. Everything's gray, everything's quiet, and everything is closed. What do you do when you're stuck in a city that's shut down for an entire week? When much of the population takes flight and you have expect the horsemen of the Apocalypse to come riding down the empty streets?

It wasn't quite so gray on Saturday, but Dunhua South Road was still dead.

This year, for the first time, I spent the entirety of Chinese New Year vacation in Taipei. Last year we went to Kaohsiung and visited a friend, among other things. The year before that, it was attempting and failing to camp at Cingjing Farm and eventually escaping the rain in Puli. Before that had been trips abroad: Egypt and India (including the gorgeous Hampi), Indonesia, the Philippines.

Never before had I attempted a staycation - in fact, I'd never really done that in my life previously, being a bit of a wanderlust and all, but so soon after our trip to Turkey, our CELTA courses and our new apartment we couldn't justify the expense of leaving town, and we had enough to do in Taipei to keep us occupied.

I have to say that staying home for a week gave me a taste of what it might be like to be a housewife (not stay-at-home mom, since I don't want kinds - that's different) and while I fully support others' choices if that's what they want, I can now say for sure that it's not for me. It was a fun week, but I like my career.  I'm ready to be a breadwinner again.

Taipei is infamous for being the city that shuts down over Chinese New Year. Other cities celebrate briefly, with businesses closing for maybe one or two days. Taipei shuts down for days on end. Why? Because unlike most other cities (Hsinchu may be an exception), most people in Taipei aren't from there - they're from somewhere else in the country and they go home. The incentive to stay open in everyone's hometowns (which always seem to be Taichung, Miaoli or Kaohsiung - I swear Miaoli's tourism slogan could be "Miaoli: Home Of Every Taiwanese Person's 92-Year Old Hakka Grandmother") is greater, because everyone's home. In Taipei, they've all left to go home, so why stay open? A lot of business owners and employees want to go home themselves.

A lot of foreigners stay in - movies, books, TV, 7-11 food - but I find that that's not really necessary - although I didn't set foot outside between Monday evening and Wednesday afternoon. There are things to do, if you know where to look.

So, basically, this is how I spent 11 days off (you all had 9, I had 11, but that's not necessarily a good thing) in Taipei - what does one do when "everything's closed"? For more than a week?

I wish I could have posted this before Chinese New Year, but I couldn't - and didn't - but I had to live it to be able to write about it.

Here are some things to keep yourself occupied:

1.) Walk around Xinyi at night

(no photo for this one yet, sorry)

Shinkong Mitsukoshi and the 101 mall are generally open, and by the second or third day of Chinese New Year, you can bet on it all being open and there being a crowd. The length of the public walking space down Shinkong Mitsukoshi's multiple buildings is decked out with red lanterns and, especially in the evening after the sun sets, bustling with people. Come here to shop if you like, eat - everything's open, including the 101 food court, but expect crowds because this is what a lot of the locals still in town do, too -  or just walk around and take pictures. I didn't get the chance to, although I might head out and try to get a few shots in the next day or two.  There are also outdoor market stalls and public art installations and a stage where I assume there are performances.

If you're feeling like the city has completely emptied out, this is also a good place to go if you just want to be in a lively place to soak up the atmosphere.

2.) Wander Tianmu for awhile

Me, on a romantic sausage-eating excursion with Brendan at Wendel's German Bistro, Tianmu
...and, with glasses!

Things in Tianmu tend to stay open, because that's where expats tend to live, and where businesses catering to them tend to congregate - by the second day or so of the New Year (and often before that), things tend to stay open. Many restaurants that are often crowded and attract foreigners not only stay open but are easier to get into, since much of the city's population is gone. Most likely this will be posted on the websites of such establishments. One example: Wendel's German bakery and bistro. Notice on website ("We still open for Chinese New Year!") and not that hard to get a seat. Brendan and I went the other day for a nice, if expensive, meal out and had no trouble getting a table and fantastic service. I recommend the beef tartare appetizer, by the way, but ask for bread with it - spreading it pate-like on bread helps cut through the sheer...richness of the dish.

3.) All the grocery stores are open - buy ingredients and practice your cooking skills; try new recipes

I made kung pao chicken!

Wellcome is open as usual even on the main Chinese New Year day and all of the fancy groceries, such as Jason's and City Super, stay open (though on Chinese New Year's Day they may have shorter hours). The Indian import store near MRT City Hall is also open.

So, with a quiet city, generally bad weather - we got, what, two days of decent weather over this vacation? - and everything open, if you have the means, then this is absolutely the time to try your hand at recipes that intrigue you. I'm lucky in that I live walking distance from a City Super (we are practically across the street from the Far Eastern Plaza Hotel - I know, faaaancy) and I could make muhammara, babaghanoush, lamb biriyani and other treats without too much fuss (although the biriyani wasn't as good as I would have liked).

4.) Decorate! New paint job!

PURPLE AND GREEN OFFICE!!

Our painted bedroom, with cat and man

If your lease allows and you are willing to make the financial investment - ours does, as our landlady is a rockin' Buddhist nun - this is a great time to repaint your apartment - as well as to do various decorating jobs (IKEA is also still open!) and hanging shelves and pictures (Sheng Li, at Fuxing/Heping intersection, is open and sells Dr. Hook for all of your hanging needs, without needing to drill). We did this, and ended up with a gorgeous cranberry and gray bedroom with textiles framed in IKEA frames hung up with Dr. Hook and a crazy colorful purple and green office (the teal living room wall had already been done). The places where you would go to get decorating supplies and paint - Carrefour, B&Q (for paint - one in Neihu near Costco and one in Qizhang above the big Carrefour), IKEA, Ikat (some days), Hola, Sheng Li - all open.

5.) Invite friends over

Biriyani night - don't even ask what they're doing

My food-loving whiskey-drinking Taiwanese friends

Chances are you are not the only foreigner, or friend (Taiwanese or not)  who is in town for some of all of Chinese New Year. There are tons of foreigners who find the weather generally too gross to travel in Taiwan and too expensive to go abroad, and you may have Taiwanese friends who are from Taipei and itching for a chance to get away from family for a night.

With everything open and your gorgeous newly-painted apartment, what a great time to get everyone out of the house and host a dinner party - especially for those poor friends of yours who have been eating at 7-11 for days on end?

6.) Visit temples

The too-often overlooked Qingshan Temple on Guiyang Street is a favorite of mine

Longshan Temple and Xingtian Temple are popular spots for public prayer in Taipei on Chinese New Year - visiting these can get you out and among other people, which might perk up your spirits (it does for me; I'm a natural extrovert). These are great spots to visit anytime during the week, especially on New Year's Day itself, and remain crowded through the vacation period.

Alternately, you could visit Bao'an Temple or some of the lesser-known or less visited temples in Taipei, such as Qingshan or Qingshui temples. They stay open,  are crowded but not as much as the big draw temples, and for these reasons, CNY is a good time to do this kind of sightseeing.

7.) Wander around the Longshan Temple Area

People-watching...or are they watching you?

With so many people pouring into Longshan Temple to pray, the areas around it are hopping, Chinese New Year is a good time to visit Bopiliao, the Longshan Temple Underground Mall, Guiyang Street (linked above) or the street market that pops up along Guangzhou Street and seems to be open in the daytime on most days of the Chinese New Year vacation. If you're feeling isolated or lonely and don't like hoew quiet the city has gotten in your neighborhood (I live in Da'an - it was pretty bad), this is the place to go to get your mojo back.

Also, great for people-watching!

8.) Try your hand at a new hobby or get back into an old one

A necklace I made for a much-loved but rarely-worn jade pendant

My favorite DIY shop

Dihua Street shuts down to scarily quiet levels right after Chinese New Year's Eve - the crazy market selling all sorts of products and foodstuffs goes silent and most of the shops are shuttered. In the days leading up to that, though, it's all open and if you're a crafts freak like me, that's fantastic. My hobbies, besides travel, reading and blogging, are beading and drawing. I have the drawing supplies I need but in the days leading up to the vacation I paid a visit to my favorite bead shop to stock up on stuff for various specific projects I had in mind. I only got one done - I made a beaded chain (faux) for a jade pendant of mine (real). I have a few other things up my sleeve, though, that I might putter around with tonight.

You don't have to be a beader or artist - what do you like to do? Do that! It's a great time to catch up on blogging, even if you write up posts in word to be posted later. It's a fantastic time to meditate, practice yoga, go biking (bike trails are dead quiet), write or do whatever it is you like to do. It's also a decent time to take photographs of Taipei without crowds in your way.

No, really, certain photos are much easier to capture when nobody's around to walk in front of your camera or bump into you.

9.) Get your Taiwanese friends who are still in town (there are probably a few) to teach you how to play mahjong.


(no photo, but check your own Facebook feed. If you have any Taiwanese friends you'll see pictures of this)

Seriously. They're all doing it (got Taiwanese friends on Facebook? Look at their CNY photos. It's all mahjong, all the time) and some of them are probably still in Taipei. See if you can't learn how and get invited to such a party. Could be fun!

All in all, I enjoyed my week off in Taipei. I might be up for another staycation next year. One thing I can say for sure - I didn't feel bored!