Friday, December 23, 2016

Let's Get Physical

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That guy in Tainan? He gets me. 

Every once in awhile a constellation of events helps throw an issue one has been mulling over in foggier terms into sharp relief.

On Wednesday, a friend says to me in a message: "You can occupy Donald Trump's office" when discussing occupations in Taiwan.

Something about that bothers me, but I can't put my finger on what. I am not afraid of physical protest or confrontation. I am not naturally an occupier, but it is not outside the realm of possibility. It also strikes me that in the US such an occupation would be unlikely, and not only for security reasons.

On Saturday morning, I get into a taxi in Tainan and as the HSR station employee, or the taxi company employee - it's hard to tell - shuts the door for me after a brief chat, he says "You're the New Taiwanese" (his actual words are "妳是台灣的第二代").

I am touched.
On Monday, I am out looking for a book I'd seen for sale in Tainan but didn't want to cart back to Taipei. I am chatting with someone who asks me "when are you moving back to America?"

I normally don't think too hard about such micro-aggressions - I have better things to do with my time - but it is such a stark contrast to what the person in Tainan said that it bothers me. Why would she assume I am ever moving back?

I live here. My body is here. Why would my mind and heart be elsewhere?

On Wednesday, I am having lunch with a friend (not the same friend I was chatting with on the previous Wednesday). She asks me if China were to invade, would America send planes to evacuate citizens, and would I be able to escape? (Don't ask me how we got onto that topic).

I am reminded of Facebook conversations about how people like me who claim to love Taiwan so much are just full of so much wind, because if everything really went to hell, we wouldn't stay and fight. We'd get the hell out, like plenty of Taiwanese would be trying to do.

And it is like jumping into an ice cold pool.

Would I stay and fight, or would I get on that plane?

My friend's comment about occupying the White House bothers me because I don't feel any loyalty to the US. It's almost like a foreign affair, something foreigners do, those weird Americans with their big lawns and houses with white siding. Why would I occupy a government office of a country I no longer call home? If I am going to occupy something - though I am not likely to - it will be in Taiwan, because Taiwan is my home. Why would he assume the change I want to fight for is in America, where I do not live?

The man in Tainan seems to accept my reality, though he has missed a crucial point: I can't be New Taiwanese because I am not a citizen and may never be. However, he shows more willingness to take at face value the idea that Taiwan is my home. In contrast, the woman in Taipei sees my face and makes an assumption about where I belong. She does not accept my reality. She sees me as a temporary fixture, a visitor who will eventually go "home". Taiwan cannot be my home, or the thing I call home. I don't look the part.

In fact, she goes on to ask me where my home is.
"Taiwan."
But where is your family?
"Taiwan." (This is true: both my husband and sister live here).
But where are you from?
The USA, but why does it matter?

Is Taiwan my home? Would I stay and fight? Is it okay if I say no, because I know many Taiwanese won't either (and those that do will have to - those that don't have to are more likely to run)? Does their turning tail not take away their Taiwaneseness (obviously, it does not, that's a rhetorical question), but mine does? Is there anything wrong with choosing to survive?

Could I even stay and fight - should I - when I am not a citizen? Is it not completely insane to dig in and put my physical body, rather than just the amorphous feelings of my mind and heart, on the line, for a country that won't even give me citizenship under reasonable conditions? Do I need to show loyalty for a country whose own government assumes I will eventually go "home", not that I am already home?

I come from fighters. Despite being generally a lazy, unpatriotic, establishment-loathing couch-hogger who hates fighting and is terrified of death, it is not inconceivable that, if everything truly went down the tubes, that something would break inside me and I'd dig in to do the right thing and put my physical self on the line for Taiwan (that said, it is not entirely conceivable that I would do this either).
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I was going to share a bad-ass picture of my great grandfather posing with an Ottoman moustache and a gun, but instead you can look at how deeply I have always loved couches. 
I can't say either way whether I would stay and fight or swoosh away on an evacuation plane, but it feels somehow important to ask myself this rhetorical question of a country I have invested in, which won't invest in me. I like to think that if I were a citizen, I'd stay. In 1915 my great grandfather saw what was happening to his people - the Armenians in Turkey - grabbed his gun and fought. I would hope, anyway, that a tiny spark of that exists in me, somewhere, under my personal agenda and general enjoyment of not dying (for what it's worth, he didn't die fighting).

In any case, that leads me straight back to last Wednesday. My lack of loyalty to the US, or the fact that White House security would never allow an occupation, is not what strikes me as I consider how much of my physical self I am willing to put on the line for the country I call home, as compared to the country that is no longer my home.

I think at first that Americans aren't very physical in their resistance. Then I consider that I may be wrong, and the truth is that Americans in my demographic (white, well-off on a global scale if not on every scale) are the ones who are not very physical. I consider Wisconsin's Capitol occupation in 2011, Black Lives Matter and Standing Rock (agree or disagree, it is a physical resistance). However, I can't shake the feeling that we Americans just don't throw ourselves into civic action very much, or at least not anymore.

You would think we would be more physically resistant, what with our guns and our bar fights and the general lack of safety of women on the street, but we're not. We didn't occupy Wall Street, we occupied a park near it. We have a few marches - I went to a tepid one against the World Bank when I was in college (wasn't that into it, wouldn't you know), and marched with a bunch of other idealistic but otherwise dishwater demonstrators against the 2nd Iraq War in New York. They were about as effective as those DPP or Citizen 1984-organized protests in the Ma era.

I have a great deal of respect for the exceptions, but they feel like exceptions: good, but not enough to stem the general impression in my lifetime that we like to write thinkpieces and generally grouse about the state of things, but we don't seem to show up physically all that often. Those that do have more to lose, the rest of us can go back to our little boxes on the hillside made of ticky-tacky. We join Facebook groups, act supportive, use it as a place to vent or post motivational memes or share our personal stories - not really useful themselves, either, I've come to think - and then watch those groups get monetized. We focus on no concrete action, no policy change, no taking down the patriarchy. We do not take to the streets, or at least not often and not angrily enough. We do not effectively occupy. We could, perhaps, learn a lot from how the Taiwanese do it.

I don't think the White House will ever be occupied, because I don't think Americans are necessarily occupiers at this moment in our history. I have to hope a robust civil movement will grow to counter the tragedy that is a Trump "Presidency", but I haven't really seen it yet.

In my time in Taiwan, though, and looking back through Taiwanese history, it feels as though there is more of a tradition of physical resistance. From fighting the incoming Japanese to 228 to the Kaohsiung Incident to Nylon Cheng, the White Lilies and up through the Sunflowers and now marriage equality, people have had specific things to fight for, and have gone out and done it. With their bodies, not just angry words. Perhaps it's because it was the only option in a brutal dictatorship, perhaps it is a part of the national character. I am, however, continually impressed by the willingness of Taiwanese to physically show up and sit their bodies in the street or in a building to fight for something. There seems to be a physicality about social movements that, at least in my lifetime, feels sorely lacking in much of the US.

I love this. I don't want to share stories in lieu of action, although I realize that I began this post by doing exactly that. There is only so much action I can take in Taiwan (I'm not a citizen, I can't organize, and I speak Chinese but not perfectly enough to be as involved as I'd like to be). At least, I want to be a part of a country where the citizens take action rather than, I dunno, post pictures of flowers with insipid feel-good self-improvement quotes or whatever, or turn everything into a PR stunt.

It's what gives me hope for Taiwan, though I am not quite sure why.

It also may be a part of why, against all logic, despite the fact that I am stronger with words than physical actions, I have so much respect for being willing to fight for what one believes in with more than just words, but with deeds and with one's own body.

What does that have to do with Taiwan being my home, other than the fact that I am physically here? It means - and this is where the icy water comes in - a good hard think about the possibility of the unthinkable happening, and about what that means for me.

In any case, today someone asks me if I am going home for Christmas.

"I am already home for Christmas," I reply.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Why isn't the labor movement drawing the crowds it should?

There was an interesting piece in Taiwan News recently about why marriage equality, not the labor movement, is attracting demonstrators and catching the public eye. I would especially like to learn more about traditionally Taiwanese representations of gayness as I know basically nothing about it.

I don't agree with every conclusion - in fact, although marriage equality impacts a small segment of the population, it affects that segment in a huge way, and is something of a social litmus test for the kind of country Taiwan wants to be.

I do not think allowing bigots to score a point by allowing civil partnerships is the answer: first, because I don't believe in giving in to bigots (could you imagine telling, say, African Americans to compromise with racists during the Civil Rights Movement and accept less than full equal rights? This suggestion doesn't feel different), especially when they are a small minority with outsize influence that it's time we cut down, and secondly because it's a straight-up human rights issue.

So, I cannot accept the conclusion that we need to let marriage equality go and focus on labor: in fact, I think we should ramp up marriage equality, get it passed quickly, and then focus on labor. I am not a fan at all of the argument that we should delay conferring full civil rights on a group because they happen to be a small group and because some bigots don't like it. I do not think a new law - rather than amending the civil code - will bring about the realization that marriage equality is okay, leading to later change in the code. It'll get stuck there. We'll try to push for the civil code to be changed, only to be told "but we HAVE marriage equality, can't you just accept that and move on?" The bigots will not stop being bigots, they'll bring out the same old fight. It'll be a bureaucratic nightmare, a postponement of the real battle. I'm not into that, sorry.

My views, however, mean little - I can't vote and I can't organize. It's what the Taiwanese are inspired by that counts. I have a few anecdotal thoughts for why labor is not attracting crowds but marriage equality is:

The marriage equality crowd is a young crowd, many of whom do not intend to accept jobs with poor working conditions when they graduate. 

This is the generation that gets involved in public life, that goes abroad, that starts their own business, that goes freelance, that moves back to their hometown to open a cafe or run their family business. Some of them are surely on the naive side, thinking they have an escape route from the hell that is a typical job in Taiwan, and some will likely come to regret their idealistic assumptions. For many, however, that is a fuzzy eventuality, a gray cloud on the horizon. They have gay friends now, this means more to them.

Turton is right about one thing, though: marriage equality is cool and trendy and progressive, but labor movements often call to mind the sad reality that most of us eventually end up working for The Man. They're not young, hip or cool (and, as the article also got right, they don't tap into an identity one can display through consumption). When you either don't want to think about your eventual working life, or don't think it will happen to you because you'll never be stuck in some interminable cube monkey job, your heart is just not going to be in a labor protest.

I just don't happen to think all of that identity-broadcasting done by demonstrating for marriage equality is necessarily a bad thing. We all do things to display our identity. I do it, Turton does it, we all do it. For some, it really is a representation of who they are (if you're gayer than a Christmas tree and act like it, then is that not authentic rather than an identity you have chosen to display through consumption? If you really are someone whose fire gets lit by human rights causes, as I am, are you not being authentic in displaying that identity even if through consumerist means?

This is about more than just being fashionable, or a way to display an identity

A friend pointed this out, and I agree. Yes, there is consumption, identity display and some amount of being attached to a fashionable cause when it comes to marriage equality, but 250,000 people don't turn out on a Saturday for that reason alone. It is far more than the core LGBT+ fighting for equal rights and other activists passionate about the cause, and shows a deeper engagement than just being trendy or hip. You might get a few of those, but you don't get 250,000, especially when they were not brought out by tight, cohesive church networks the way the anti-equality folks were with their far smaller numbers, if it's just people showing off how cool and progressive they are. People do care, there is real support, and it does go deeper than strutting around in order to cement an identity for oneself.

Honestly, the labor movement doesn't get the word out effectively. 

I don't know about you guys, but I always hear about marriage equality events well in advance, and can plan to attend them. Labor protests? I read about them the next day from Brian Hioe, or see them happening when I am already in my pajamas. I don't know until it's too late that I could have been there. I don't know how they hope to attract more people if people don't even know something is going on.

Marriage equality seems solvable, labor issues do not

I think a lot of activists know they have society and even much of the government on their side in the marriage equality debate. They know this is winnable. They know it's winnable soon - a big victory in a short time over an opponent that is outmatched. The fight against the Boss Class will be a long, grueling, interminable one with a huge amount of media, money, crony capitalists, corrupt politicians and straight-up asshats bearing down on them. It will be another Sunflower Movement, if we let it get that far (and I do think labor has the potential to be that, but few seem to agree) - an angry group of activists up against insane odds. Perhaps the nation is still a bit hungover from the last big movement, and wants a break, to achieve something that can actually be done.

Hell, the New Power Party has a pretty strong labor platform (though as always I do not agree with their past resistance to relaxing the laws governing foreign workers), and they can't seem to get anywhere. If they can't bring the crowds, or effectively stand up to the Boss Class, how can anyone?

Marriage equality, though? Dude, we can do that.

It's not really clear, due to deliberate muddling, what the labor movement really means or stands for

Which labor movement are we even talking about? The one opposed to pension reform? The tour guide protest? The fakey-fake "Sunflower imitation" protests the KMT organizes because it just does not get civil society at all? Or the real labor protests? It's easy to be confused. I often have to think hard about a demonstration - if I even know it's going to happen - to see if this is a group I actually agree with, or just more civil servants unhappy about pension reform when most workers in the private sector don't even have pensions, or only nominally do. The labor movement needs to clarify who they are, what they want and who they are not, or they're just not going to bring the crowds.

Workers themselves seem to vacillate between grumbling about the situation - and I agree that it is dire - and talking about how "this is just the way things are", not complaining, not talking to their bosses, not going to the company to air grievances. If workers won't even tell their bosses what they don't like, how can we expect them to get riled up enough to protest? And how can we expect others to come out on behalf of them when they won't stand up for themselves at work?

The fight for more vacation days was, to be honest, uninspiring

I'm sorry, I just can't work up a lot of screaming, placard-waving enthusiasm over keeping Chiang Kai Stupid Shek's Stupid Birthday. I know a vacation day is a vacation day and I shouldn't fret so much, but...I just can't get over that. I don't know about the rest of the Taiwanese public, but it's not a galvanizing message.

Add to that the fact that we've only had these extra seven days for one year: in the past ten years in Taiwan I never had those days off, and suddenly I do. It's very confusing, and I don't feel passionately about keeping them because they sort of randomly appeared this year rather than being something I'm used to that fits into the rhythm of the year.

So, it just doesn't seem like a smart route to go in terms of igniting a fire in people to come out and fight.

It is uninspiring to fight for better labor laws when the ones we have are not enforced. 

A friend brought up this point (and the point above about workers who don't complain) and I agree enough to include it. Sure, we need better laws, but what good is it if the ones we already have are more or less never enforced? Who cares if a new law limits overtime if you can't get your boss to abide by the current laws regulating overtime? What are we fighting for, exactly?

That young marriage equality crowd has free time, workers just have stress

...and workers generally do not.

Those that do face family pressure - always a big deal here - to keep their shitty job and not rock the boat, or to 'take what you can get'. It's a society that is very accepting of market trends in terms of how workers are treated - in the US the left screams and howls, rightfully so, when capitalists say that a fair wage is the lowest wage someone is willing to work for, but Taiwan is far more accepting of this explanation. Something about that "this is the best we can do, this is the market, we have to accept it" attitude has to change.

Workers are also less idealistic. They've done jobs, they know how the world is and how most of us eventually get sucked in (for the record, I'm in my 30s and have still managed to not get sucked in, but I may well die old and poor). They are often focused on themselves and their families - by then, most have them - and improving their own lot rather than fighting for the betterment of all. This is another attitude we have to change.

In the meantime, though?

Honestly, you'll find me in the street, rainbow flag in hand.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Fighting Native Speakerism in Taiwan

I don't blog much here about English teaching, because to be honest, it's my job. I happen to love it, and I happen to be a professional, and I want to talk about it, but...it's my job. I may start a specifically ELT-related blog someday, but otherwise I generally tend to keep my hobbies (like snarking on Taiwanese politics, activism - to the degree I am able - writing and travel/exploration) separate from my profession. It's funny, though, because I'm actually qualified to comment on ELT matters, whereas despite my related degree (International Affairs), I'm basically a hobbyist with a snarky streak when it comes to politics.

However, something about this really ought to be said. First, a primer in what 'native speakerism' is.

None of this is new - there is a whole organization dedicated to fighting native speakerism. But, to get into why it's difficult to fight in Taiwan, I feel the groundwork needs to be laid.

Native speakerism is a global issue - preconceived notions about what makes a 'teacher' due to a lack of general training in ELT issues (which is fair - not everyone is going to have a basic knowledge of education theory) causes learners to believe that native speaker teachers are superior and schools advertising the usually (but not always) white, Western faces of the teachers with correspondingly high tuition preys on notions of 'prestige' in teaching. Learners then request native speaker teachers, leading schools to then discriminate against non-native speaker teachers in hiring, and blame it on "the market" - a market which they helped create. It doesn't help that a horrifying lack of professional standards makes it possible to get a teaching job with no qualifications or experience to speak of other than being a native speaker, and that the owners of language schools are often local businesspeople, not educators, and do not know themselves what to look for in a quality teacher - they too boil it down to "native speaker, looks the part, cheaper than a trained teacher, you're hired."

One can add to that a big fat dollop of outdated assumptions of what it means to be a "non-native speaker". People who don't know better will insist that "non-native speakers can't possibly know all of the idiomatic language, rare collocations and modern usages of English, they'll teach a more textbook English", but that assumes quite a bit about a native speaker. An Egyptian woman who spent the first ten years of her life in Cairo, but then moved to England and had lived there ever since, for example, would speak at a level so close to native that you would not know she wasn't a native speaker, and would have more knowledge of British idiomatic language than I do. How is she less of a 'native speaker' than I am? A Taiwanese student who went through an entire school curriculum at TES or TAS, who might speak flawlessly - you might mistake her for an Asian woman from the West - is she a native speaker? My own grandfather grew up in Greece and moved to the US in elementary school. His native languages were Western Armenian - there are a genocide and two escapes in that story - and Greek. To hear him talk now you would never think of him as anything other than a native speaker of English. Is he? Why do you assume all native speakers speak an imperfect, textbook-y or even 'foreign accented' (again, whatever that means) English?

And that's not even getting into issues of cultural or linguistic imperialism and the notion that only "native speaker English" (whatever that means) is "good enough", or that there is something wrong with local varieties of English!

What really goes into teaching well is, of course, a high level or native-like level of English: something many non-native speakers attain, as well as sound training (whether it confers a credential or not - the piece of paper is not the point, though it's hard to gauge the quality of non-credentialed training) and increasing levels of responsibility through experience. Some level of basic talent or affinity for teaching helps. Research agrees: if the level of English is sufficient and the teaching is pedagogically sound, the first language of the teacher makes no difference.

I find this a very convincing set of arguments for doing away with discrimination based on first language in language teaching, and yet the problem persists in Taiwan. Why?

The law is outdated 

There are conflicting accounts of what the laws actually say. Most non-native speaker teachers in Taiwan are Taiwanese themselves, students on a student visa that allows work, or other foreign residents married to locals. A few have Master's degrees and therefore can be hired for any job. It is unclear whether, legally, visas for non-native speaker teachers who come to Taiwan simply to teach can be procured by schools however. I have been told "no", I have been sent unclear links with confusing language, I have been told such visas have been successfully issued, although every example seems to be of a white European. I have been told English must be the 'official language' of the country of origin, but the US has no official language, and plenty of countries people don't think of as English-speaking, such as Nigeria and India, do have English as an 'official language'.

However, I have also heard firsthand accounts of non-native speaker, non-Taiwanese foreigners trying and failing to get a visa to teach English because they held the "wrong" passport (not from Canada, the US, Ireland, the UK, South Africa, Australia or New Zealand). So, let's just say that the law is unclear but if you are not a native speaker, and do not have another pathway to a job that doesn't require a school-sponsored visa, and lack a Master's degree, that it is likely to be difficult for you to procure a visa to work in Taiwan.

This is in direct contradiction to research on effective teaching, and yet it remains a problem. When it is difficult to get a school to even offer a job to someone they know they may not be able to get a visa for, it makes sense that schools would go for candidates for whom visas would be promptly issued.

So what can we do? 
Honestly, I have no idea. You can lobby the government - good luck with that. You can write an editorial - nobody will read it. You can try to raise awareness among locals inclined to do something about it, but so few are even if they agree with you. If you ever do find yourself with the right kind of guanxi in the government, this would be a great place to use it to bend someone's ear. For now, however, I'm at a loss.


It's hard to know which schools would not discriminate, given the choice

It's very difficult to know what a school would do if it didn't have this potential legal hurdle to hiring non-native speakers and very difficult to fight, as it requires a change in the law.

My various employers, for example, are all good people. They're sensible and they have some foundational knowledge of the qualities needed in a good teacher. I do not want to think that, given the chance to hire a non-native speaker teacher who would need a visa, that they would discriminate. However, due to the confusion and difficulty inherent in the law, it is hard to be sure. How can I talk to my employer about a problem if I don't even know if it exists, or if it only exists hypothetically?

In my school I noticed an advertising sign-listicle sort of things ("10 reasons to study with us!" but at least it didn't have something like "#8 will shock you!") where one of the items was "Canadian, British and American teachers: the world of IELTS comes to you!" - what does that mean exactly? Is that pro-native-speakerism? Would they discriminate against a talented, native-like and qualified non-native speaker if given the chance to hire one? It's hard to say. It's just an item on a list tacked to the wall, and there's no way to test the sincerity of it. How does one even bring that up?

This makes it difficult to have these conversations with employers - note conversations, not confrontations or arguments - when you can't really know where they stand. When perhaps they themselves don't know where they stand. It's hard to push the issue further or raise awareness.

So what can we do?

One of the core messages of TEFL Equality Advocates is for native speaker teachers to use their privilege to help change the system: not applying to work at schools that discriminate, withdrawing one's application from a school that indicates that it discriminates later in the process, and writing to such schools to tell them why (in gentler words, of course).

It's difficult to do that when you can't know if a school would discriminate if they didn't have to by (very confusing) law. What you can do, though, is bring it up if the opportunity arises and try to gauge your school's attitude towards native speakerism, and take it from there.


The 'native speaker' model is still seen as the best, or only, choice

This is a massive problem in a world where ELF (English as a Lingua Franca) is the English that most English speakers - most of whom are non-native - use. Native-speaker models with little attention paid to communication in the real world the learners will face is not optimal. A native-speaker model that ignores the Taiwanese businessman going to Korea, the young student planning to travel in Central Europe, the tech guy who talks to co-workers in India or young person who might not encounter native speakers often puts them at a disadvantage and is often the reason why good students in class, or even chatting with native speakers informally, hits a brick wall with other non-native speakers. This attitude, to be short, must change.

So what can we do?

Get training in how to teach ELF, and teach it if it fits your context (which it probably does). And let your students know why. Let them know that, in fact, as a native speaker you are not always an optimal model, and that learning by working with the English of non-native speakers is in many ways just as helpful or more helpful to them than only dealing with you.

School owners are often dismissive of foreign teacher concerns

This, I would like to emphasize, is not a problem with my employers. We are listened to and our opinions respected and considered and, often, acted on. I appreciate that a lot. It's why I continue to work for them. However, I can't say that's true for most, or even many, schools in Taiwan. Whether locally run or not - though most are run locally - there seems to be an unspoken but clear lack of respect for the sentiments of teachers, however correct or convincing they may be. (That's not to say such sentiments are always correct or convincing). Six-day workweeks, crazy hours and a lack of communication - or outright lying - driving high turnover, while the boss complains about high turnover? Low pay making it hard to hire good people? Textbooks that are required but not very good leading to poorer teaching?

All of these are valid concerns that are often dismissed by school administration, even at the "better" schools.

So, trying to bring up native speakerism is likely to get you about as far, if even that far, when opening such conversations. If they don't care that you're warning them that systemic problems in how they treat employees is the direct cause of high turnover, then they won't care about this.

So what can we do?

Change jobs. I feel like if the opportunity arose, I could bring this up at either of my workplaces without consequences, and be listened to. Try to find that kind of work. If your school is one where teachers and staff share resources and interesting articles, passing around an article on the issue may also have some awareness-raising effect, as well.


Other teachers will defend native speakerism

This is honestly the most aggravating to me, and I am sure that if this post makes the rounds among other expats that there will be blowback along exactly these lines. Whatever. I'll say it anyway.

I've heard it all - the same tired excuses that 'non-native speakers just don't know the language as well', 'this is the market, this is what the students want', 'you can't tell people whom they must hire, they can discriminate if they want and if someone doesn't like it they can find a different job', do you really want non-native speakers from India or the Philippines competing for your job, driving down wages?' and finally 'this is discrimination against native speakers, you think we're all know-nothings!'

Let's break all of these down:

Native speakers just don't know the language as well: covered it above

This is the market, this is what students want/employers can discriminate if they want: Due to lack of awareness and advertising for schools that preys on this. We can do better. In fact, research also shows the 'preference' among potential students is not as high as you would think. In any case, would you say "this is what the customer wants" as an excuse to discriminate based on gender, race, age or sexual orientation/gender identity? (If so, then you are pro-discrimination and I really don't know what to say except that there's a reason why such discrimination is illegal in most developed countries. It hurts members of those groups more than you realize, for very little reason. Customers, at times, have to be told when their requests are not reasonable.)

If someone doesn't like it they can find a different job: not if every single employer discriminates! Is it really okay to restrict the jobs available, or make no job at all available, to someone based on characteristics they can't change - and what your native language is happens to be such a characteristic, like age, race and orientation - for no reason other than to feed the prejudices of an uninformed clientele?

Do you really want "non-native" speakers from India or the Philippines competing for jobs and driving down wages? Well, I am a fan of government-mandated minimum wages at fair levels so the latter won't happen. As for competition, I welcome it. Competition makes for better product if it is fair. I am qualified. I have a decade of experience and a Delta, and will soon have a Master's in TESOL from a good school. The people who hire me - knowing what I cost - are not going to ditch me for someone who does not have such a background, and I would not want to work for anyone who would, or who thought that background was not necessary and just wanted to hire the cheapest taker. If those speakers - many of whom are actually native speakers or close enough to it - have similar credentials, then it is fair that we should compete. But it is fairly rare to have them at all, so I'm not that worried.

This is discrimination against native speakers, you think we're all know-nothings: This is the "what about WHITE HISTORY MONTH?!" of excuses used to defend native speakerism. I'm sorry, but it is. Many native speakers are not qualified to teach English. That does not mean those of us fighting native speakerism think none of them are. I'm a native speaker and I'm perfectly qualified to teach (but not because I'm a native speaker - in addition to it). I know that losing privilege feels like oppression, but I would beg those who think along these lines to really go back and consider what they are saying.

I have to say that I find these concerns worrying - in terms of advocating employment discrimination! - and unprofessional. If you don't have confidence in your ability to succeed in a wider employment pool, then why are you doing this job? Are you so afraid for your security that you want to shut others out to keep it? Is this even ethical? Is there not a whiff of wanting to cling to privilege about it?

So what can we do?
In terms of working on this attitude among other expats, simply making your points when the discussion comes up and sticking to them, doggedly raising awareness and not letting the privilege-clinging dominate the discussion, is all you can do until people start to listen.

I'm lucky, I can afford to have this attitude. Want to be lucky too? Upgrade yourself so you are not competing for low wages, but have the chance to work for people that recognize what you have to offer. Treat your profession like a profession, stop devaluing yourself. That's another thing you can do.

Trust me, if you actually take the time to, say, get a Delta or Master's, you won't want to work for people who would pay the lowest bidder $450/hour.


Employment laws are not enforced and there is no real union

This is tough too - in theory, Taiwan prohibits discrimination in employment based on race, gender, creed, sexual orientation etc.: basically the same way all other developed countries do. In theory, if you are fired (or not hired) for being (or not being) a certain race, you can sue, and you are supposed to win.

In practice, these laws are not enforced very well, if at all. There is no union of English teachers able to take action regarding this, and it's difficult for individuals to act without union representation. The three main issues facing unionization are that it is not popular in Taiwan (the workers' associations, which are unions in a way, don't quite act in the same way as we might imagine a union would), which also means that Taiwanese local teachers in private academies are not likely to join; it is hard to convince people scattered across many schools and employment types, many of whom are not planning to stay long-term or teach professionally to join; and that I have heard - correct me if I'm wrong - that only foreign workers with APRC or JFRV open work permits are allowed to unionize at all. If true, that means almost no English teachers in Taiwan are even eligible to legally unionize. Those that are are often so embedded in doing their own thing that it's hard to organize them (I admit to being somewhat guilty of this).

What that means is that if it's hard to get the government to act on discrimination based on race or gender, it will be even harder to get them to act based on native speakerism. Even if we get the employment laws for foreign teachers changed, there is no guarantee the new laws would be enforced.

So what can we do?

Unionize, or at least support the effort. Good luck with that. I told you this would be hard to fight. Set a precedent by fighting discrimination in other forms, such as that based on race, gender or age, so when you are ready and able to fight native speakerism, pushing back against discrimination and actually winning won't be a novel concept. Getting a more diverse teaching staff in schools will also speed up the acceptance that not all "good" English teachers look a certain way - a prejudice that is tied to native speakerism.


It's hard to advocate for "good teachers with credentials and experience regardless of native language" when credentials and experience aren't necessary in the first place, and learners are often unaware of this

This is another thing that aggravates me in Taiwan, although I do love this country with a ferocity I didn't think possible (and I am not a naturally patriotic person). There is a stunning lack of professionalism in many fields - my other bugbear is the journalistic standards of local media - English teaching not least among them.

I have said that I do think there is a place for inexperienced, even unqualified, new teachers in the industry. I can't be too hard on them, I used to be one. However, I do feel it ought to involve gradually increasing responsibility at an employer that provides good quality training along the way, with an internationally recognized certification eventually required.

That is not what happens in Taiwan, by a long shot.

If it is already considered acceptable to hire a fresh college grad with no relevant experience or credential, give him some materials (if you do even that), maybe let him observe a few classes and then have him go for it, with no attention paid to further training (or further quality training), then it will be quite difficult to convince schools, learners and teachers that in fact quality matters. It will be a battle just to dismantle the notion that teaching is an inborn talent - it is only in very rare circumstances - and to persuade people that experience without training isn't worth a fraction of what the two in tandem are worth.

So, convincing employers that, yes, a non-native speaker must have a very high level of English, but also that there are other qualities that also matter that make it possible for a non-native speaker teacher to teach just as well as a native speaker, is an uphill battle when they don't think those qualities are important even in native speakers.

So what can we do?
Raise awareness among your learners about what goes into teaching well. When they ask you for advice, tell them that they shouldn't be looking to continue their education with "a native speaker" per se, but a qualified, experienced teacher with good training. Tell them straight up that being a native speaker does not make one an automatically qualified language teacher, and advise them to aim higher.

Along with this, advocate for more training available in Taiwan. I did an entire Delta from Taiwan, but as it stands now there are no other strong, internationally-recognized pre-service or basic credentials available here. You have to leave the country for any such face-to-face credential (and, in fact, such credentials are worth little if they do not include practical experience). The more people who have training there are in the market, the more awareness about the importance of training there will be. Fun side effect: higher wages (at least one would hope) if starting a job with some training were the norm.


Foreigners don't teach "differently" and aren't "more fun" because of "culture"

This seems like an unrelated point, but bear with me.

Another excuse I often hear from learners about why they want native speakers isn't about being a native speaker at all - they think foreigners, Westerners specifically, are more "fun" and our classes are more "exciting". Often, they think that this is because our educational system and culture are "different". In some cases they mean "better", in others they mean "fine for after-school English class but in Real School Confucius-like stone-faced teachers who teach to the test as they give you more tests is still the way to go, and we are merely after-class entertainment.

Some may even think the 'fun' comes with a lack of training, as though training teaches a teacher to be boring.

Often this is pegged on the West just being fundamentally different. It is, in some ways (but hey I took boring classes and had tests too).

The truth is, though, that an untrained teacher is usually the more boring one, relying on old tropes of what a teacher does rather than more updated, modern pedagogical principles. The untrained teacher is more likely to fall back on drills, repetition, quizzes, worksheets, lecture-mode teaching, arduous and torturous (and not very useful) top-heavy presentations of grammar or other concepts, and maybe a few games here and there. When they are not boring, they rely on personality to get by (I was once guilty of this and perhaps from time to time still am when I get lazy - I do have the personality for it).

This is true no matter your cultural or national origin, let alone your native language. And yet it's used as the reason why a learner wants - or a school thinks a learner wants - a 'foreign English teacher' which really means a 'Western English teacher' which equates, generally, to a native speaker. It may be a way of asking for a native speaker without saying so directly.

So what can we do?
When you hear a learner talk about wanting a 'fun' class taught by a foreigner - or any other variation of the "foreigners are fun!" sentiment, counter it gently. A well-trained Taiwanese teacher can be just as 'fun' and an average native speaker teacher can be quite boring - it's experience and training that make a class better.

This introduces the concept of professional background, rather than national origin, being the key factor in a good teacher, which paves the way for acceptance of non-native teachers as just as able to teach a 'fun' or interesting class as native-speaking ones.


Language teacher training in Asia is not what it could be

Of course, going along with all of this is the need to better train local non-native speaker teachers in Taiwan. This is, in fact, a region-wide problem if not larger. It seems that non-native speaker local teachers are trained based on outdated or unsound principles, as friends of mine who have been through language teaching Master's programs say the pedagogical side often is neglected in favor of the Applied Linguistics side. If we want learners to accept that non-native speaker teachers can be just as qualified to lead a class as native-speaker ones, we need to do something about this, so that local non-native speaker teachers have more modern, principled teacher training.

So what can we do?

Very little, unless you yourself are a PhD, join the academic faculty at a school that offers a Master's in TESOL or other language teaching field (Applied Linguistics, Teaching Chinese as a Foreign Language, Applied Foreign Languages etc.) and push the school to modernize, which in Taiwan I know often is a losing battle. We can all stand to go out and get more training to raise the overall level of quality of English teaching, and we can push for an internationally-recognized teaching certification program (I don't want to say CELTA or Trinity, but if not them, at least something like them) to be offered in Taiwan so more non-native speaker teachers have a chance to attend. You can work to become the sort of person who would be qualified to be a tutor in such a course.


Those fighting native speakerism globally often have a blind spot

The final issue isn't so much what Taiwan can do, but a criticism of a lot of the dialogue internationally on how to fight native speakerism. These articles often have massive blind spots when it comes to Asia: they assume non-native speaker teachers can get visas: this is often not the case in Asia - if not Taiwan, then China and South Korea do have these restrictions, meaning that calling out discrimination where you see it and writing to schools with discriminatory ads is not a workable strategy.

They also tend to take as the default employers that are either within the formal education system (such as working in a public school) or are under the auspices of a government (such as British Council or IELTS), which are bound by certain professional and ethical standards that you can call upon when fighting native speakerism. That doesn't work when most employers are buxibans (private language academies) run by businesspeople, not educators, who run businesses, not schools, and who aren't, honestly, beholden to any professional or ethical standards at all, if they are even aware such standards exist in English teaching.

They often cite a "four week intensive course" as "the minimum qualification" to teach (and note that it is not sufficient in the long term, which is true). In Asia, however, this is generally not the case. In fact, in Taiwan if you have taken that course - they mean CELTA by the way - you are actually ahead of the game. The minimum qualification to teach is nothing at all. So advice that takes having something like CELTA as the minimum requirement to work is not helpful.

This needs to change - I don't mean to divide teachers, but it is dishonest to pretend these differences do not exist.

I wish I had better suggestions for how to deal with the situation we have, rather than the situation most common advice addresses. Unfortunately, in the ELT industry as we experience it in Taiwan, there is little we can do except push back gently when the issue comes up, raise the issue when it is pertinent, raise awareness when the opportunity arises, and improve ourselves via quality training and experience to bring the industry overall to a higher standard, which will hopefully bring with it more up-to-date ethical standards on the non-native speaker teacher issue.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Greatest Hits from Brendan and Jenna Get Together: Live in Tainan 2007

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So, thanks to work obligations, we found ourselves back in Tainan for the third time this year.

What I found sentimental about that, moreoso than over the summer, was that Brendan and I are nearing our 10th anniversary as a couple. As I mentioned in an earlier post, we got together in Tainan, and our very first picture together as a bona fide couple (rather than two very frustrated best friends who clearly liked each other) was taken at the Confucius Temple there.

That was on March 1st (or thereabouts) 2007, and as it is highly unlikely we'll be in Tainan on March 1st 2017 - though you never know, we could be sent back for work - this is about as close as we are likely to get to return to the city where we got together close to a major anniversary date.

So, of course we went back to the Confucius Temple and took the same picture again (above). I won't comment on how we've changed and how we haven't, I will note that ten years on, six of them as a married couple, we still have that undefinable spark. It may be a more comfortable warmth rather than, say, what happened last time which I am pretty sure entailed making out in the Confucius Temple - Confucius was surely not pleased - but it's there. Like the perfect teaming of a chaos and an order muppet. (I'm the Swedish Chef, if you must know). 

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So, I don't have much about Tainan to say in this post - you can read that in my posts from earlier this year (one is linked above, here's the other). What I do feel like talking about is how we went back and did a lot of the same things we did ten years ago - without really thinking about it. A few things have changed: we didn't know about the life-changing food combination that is ice cream served in half a melon available at Taicheng Fruit Store (泰成水果店) nor about Narrow Door Cafe (窄門咖啡) and I am fairly sure our favorite bar, Taikoo (太古), was not open yet.

But coffee at Chihkan Towers just for the atmosphere? Confucius Temple? God of Hell Temple? Famous glutinous meat dumplings? Running into a temple parade? All the greatest hits from 2007 got played, and it was in fact very sentimental and lovely to re-live it like that, as Old Married People rather than Young Love. It's like dancing to the song you first danced to, if we danced, which we don't really.

Perhaps I was also feeling sentimental because it's the holidays - my mom loved the holidays and also passed away around this time of year (actually almost two years ago exactly). I have been thinking, as I put together an album of her photos, how much she also liked old man's tea (老人茶 or laorencha - the title of this blog, though that's not the reason), and how sad I am that we never got to drink it together in Taiwan. So, I think a lot about family, relationships and life at this time of year.

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My mom in the early 1980s - I would have likely been a baby when this was taken.


Anyway, enjoy some photos. This first one is one of the common areas in our hotel this time, called Goin Old House Bed and Breakfast (and also bar, on the first floor). The rooms are simple, clean and a little old-timey/traditional, with very modern bathrooms, which I appreciate. And it's extremely central.

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Track 1 on Greatest Hits from Brendan and Jenna Get Together: Live in Tainan 2007, coffee at Chihkan Tower:

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Track 2: Temple Parade (this happened in Anping in 2007 but at the God of War temple this time):

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Track 3: Let's eat some meatballs (肉圓 - the famous ones by the God of War Temple):

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Track 4: Wandering the Backstreets

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Track 5: The God of Hell Temple (東嶽殿), but the murals weren't as visible this time:
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Track 6: Backstreets, Refrain

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Bonus Tracks: Narrow Door Cafe:

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Bonus Track 2: Taicheng Fruit Store:

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Bonus Track 3: Taikoo Bar

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Monday, December 19, 2016

A Dragon Boat Weekend in Yunlin County

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Ao Tu (凹凸) Cafe in Douliu - probably the loveliest cafe in an old Japanese home I've been to in Taiwan


Over the summer Brendan and I traveled quite a bit in Taiwan - I had some work to do in the south, and we decided to explore an oft-ignored corner of the west coast: the rural county of Yunlin, sandwiched between Zhanghua and Chiayi. It seemed like a good time to go, as Yunlin recently got its own HSR station - no need to hop a bus from some other county with a larger city transport hub (Yunlin itself has no city large enough to realistically be called a 'transport hub').

I have a lot of great things to say about this trip! First, the food is cheap, tasty and local. Second, the towns themselves are small enough and centralized enough to mostly be walkable, though without your own vehicle exploring, say, old farmhouses and mansions in the countryside is not possible (perhaps with a bike, but not on foot). Each town has fairly good public transportation to the other towns around it - we felt no need at any point to rent a car, which to me is an important benchmark for a good trip. If you read this blog you know how strongly I criticize the idea that one should have to be a comfortable driver to explore Taiwan, or be willing to drive in the urban craziness that often characterizes even mid-size cities here with scooter drivers who, quite frankly, could stand to take a few drivers' ed classes. We were not surprised by the friendliness of locals - that was basically a given - but were quite taken with how much easier it is compared to, say, a decade ago when I arrived in Taiwan to get a cup of coffee in a nice cafe in towns that many consider to be backwaters.

There is no specific reason to go to Yunlin, though if you are interested in Japanese-era architecture and Matsu temples you will find quite a bit, but for me that's a part of what made it worth going to. We had no specific tourist itinerary to tick off - we just rolled up in this or that town and saw what it had to offer.

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The Eslite in a funky old building in Huwei - surely someone more knowledgeable than I knows what this used to be?
Here are a few towns in Yunlin that you might want to explore (note: we did not make it to every one):

Beigang
Atmospheric back streets, a temple in a flood plain (no guarantee you'll actually get to see it), gorgeous Chaotian temple and an old theater, some Japanese-era architecture and old street that are of mild interest. Surprisingly, the best Vietnamese food I've had in Taiwan as well. Also, they have a long-standing rivalry with Xingang (below) over the route of the annual Matsu pilgrimage, which I have been to the kick-off of.

Xiluo
A long, lovely old street, part of which is developed for tourism and part of which still retains that old-school Taiwan flavor, Fuxing temple (hope of yet another well-known Matsu shrine), soy sauce, a creepy abandoned theater

Huwei
Taiwanese puppetry museum, a few old buildings scattered about (at least one was visible from the puppetry museum, where we waited for a bus to Beigang - unfortunately we did not have time to spend much time there), a small eslite in a cool, weird old Japanese-era building

Douliu
A long old street full of well-preserved Japanese shophouse architecture that has not been developed for tourism, "famous" local squid soup, a temple that's Daoist in the front and Confucian in the back, some old Japanese wooden houses and several very good coffeeshops. Excellent night market once a week, usually Saturdays

Gukeng
Coffee and a waterfall (we did not get to visit) - you probably need a car to get to the waterfall

Xingang (technically just over the border in Chiayi) - we didn't get to go here but apparently there are a few tiger temples worth checking out as well as the destination temple for the Matsu pilgrimage (well, technically the mid-point - this is where Matsu stops and heads back to Dajia)

Getting to and around Yunlin
I would honestly recommend just taking the HSR, though there are buses from Taipei and other major cities. The HSR station is outside of Huwei, with frequent buses into town and to other towns (but not Beigang, you have to connect in Huwei for that at an ill-defined stop near the puppetry museum). Towns generally have buses running between them but for some smaller towns, you may have to wait awhile (we had a 1.5-hour wait for a Beigang to Xiluo bus).

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A weird...shop? Home? in Huwei. The friendly folks hanging out there gave me tea. 


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Accommodation

All of these towns have standard third-rate "business hotels" for local businessmen - these hotels tend to be a bit run-down and depressing, but clean enough. I suggest avoiding them and staying at airbnbs whenever possible, especially if you speak Chinese. The only town that didn't seem to have an airbnb option was Beigang. In that case, spend a bit of extra money and stay in the "nicest hotel in town" which is...fine. It's also above a pasta restaurant. We were happy with all of our accommodation.

I won't list where we actually stayed as I think airbnb is technically illegal in Taiwan, but they shouldn't be too hard to find.

Beigang - "Good Stay Homestay/'Nine Long' Pasta" (好住民宿/九久PASTA - don't even bother with the English name) - a bit expensive though we were given the 'honeymoon suite', but undeniably centrally located and the best hotel in town. They are used to foreign guests but I am not at all sure they speak English.

Xiluo  - a clean room with a private bathroom owned by a nice family on Fuxing Street, a bit far from Yanping Old Street but walkable - you'll mostly deal with their son who is very friendly. The shop on the first floor sells temple accoutrements (incense, paper offerings etc) in the front and has a local-style beauty salon (threading, eyelashes, back massage etc) in the back. If the son is free he'll pick you up at the bus station. Best if you speak Chinese or Taiwanese. A little far from Yanping Old Street but a pleasant enough walk.

Douliu - this one has an interesting title to their airbnb page, but book here and you'll get to stay in a really interesting house in a small cul-de-sac community with an old-school feel and very friendly dog (I seriously love that dog and still miss him). The parents may speak English - I don't know, we never used it - their son definitely does, but he may be away for work. The parents are super nice and if they like you will make you lots of tea. A short enough walk to everything, including a very good cafe close by.

Our trip

We started from the HSR station, where we hopped a bus to Huwei and connected in town to Beigang (the "bus stop" is a bit of roadside outside of a municipal-looking building next to the puppetry museum, which I'd love to return and check out someday), arriving in Beigang in the early evening. Huwei looked interesting and I wish I'd gotten a chance to explore it more. The road to Beigang led through some very rural farmland, and as we approached town we noted quite a few picturesque old farmhouses and rural mansions. With a car or bike, it would be worth it to head out and try to find them.

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I was not the only one that found the weird shop in Huwei to be of interest. 


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Turtles on the bus


I noted with some glee - and a little sadness - that the bus driver drove around with his pet turtles in an aquarium. Cute and quirky but probably not that much fun for the turtles. Anyway, I'd be interested to know if anyone heading that way ends up on the Turtle Bus.

We checked into our hotel in Beigang, enjoying the atmospheric back streets, before heading to Chaotian temple just before sundown.

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I didn't intend for this guy to be in my photo, but there he is.


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This isn't any less creepy after dark


Chaotian temple, founded in 1694 but renovated and expanded several times up through the 20th century, really is lovely. Many doors bear placards bequeathed by various Taiwan notable people, including several former presidents. Notably, although it is one of the most well-known temples in this part of Taiwan - and even known across the country - it is not the temple where the internationally-known Matsu pilgrimage ends. That's just over the county line in Xingang, and if you think the two temples must have some sort of rivalry over this, you would be absolutely right.

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A (likely) Japanese-era wooden house in Beigang


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Perhaps they are setting their sights a little unrealistically high comparing Beigang to Paris


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The "honeymoon room" at our hotel in Beigang


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Not a clue. 


I won't bother to describe Chaotian in words. Enjoy some photos.


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I love the antimacassar-style colorful crochet work here


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After walking a bit and noting not only the giant Matsu sculpture we could never seem to actually get to (I think it was at the top of a building we couldn't access), we noted that if the ugly shopping mall across from the temple were open, there would seem to be some sort of cafe in it, we wandered back past the hotel, towards the bus stop where we were dropped off. On our walk downtown we'd passed what looked like a re chao (熱炒) place where the food is good and the beer is cheap and plentiful and decided it was as good a place as any for dinner.

瓠仔貴燒烤熱炒 - I can't even begin to translate the restaurant's name into real English
北港市中華路103號
Zhonghua Road #103 (intersection of Zhonghua and Taishun roads)

Along the way we got a bonus sight - a cute little church with a seriously creepy Christmas display at precisely the wrong time of year.


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I TOLD YOU IT WASN'T ANY LESS CREEPY AT NIGHT
The next day we returned to the temple but this time continued along Zhongshan Road. The old street here is a bit more local than the kitschy toy shops and glycerin soap stores you see in the old streets of northern Taiwan. More local specialties and dried foods, more items for templegoers and pilgrims. It was interesting but not as architecturally notable as other old streets, with the possible exception of Swallow House.
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What I enjoyed about this stretch of road was coming across some sort of religious ceremony with a spirit medium. I've shown this to a few students but nobody seems to know what ceremony is being performed or why.

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We did cross the bridge to Chiayi County (Beigang is nestled in a bend in the river that separates Yunlin and Chiayi), which is completely unremarkable. There is a cute but nondescript temple at the other end, that's about it. If you're short on time, skip it. I didn't think it was that impressive, but not everyone agrees with me.

We didn't get to see this but apparently there is a recently-resurfaced temple in the riverbed that, if you can get there, would definitely be worth a look. (I'm searching for the information on that now, and having little success).

A bit more interesting are some of the old Japanese municipal works down a road to the left as you approach the bridge. You can find them on any Beigang tourist map - yes, such maps exist and they can be had in the pasta restaurant/hotel we stayed at. Most notably, the Beigang Waterway (Aqueduct?) Cultural Park (北港水道頭文化園區), which is worth swinging by, though I didn't take any photos good enough to include. Near it there is a puppet shop - the puppets clothing is mass-produced but the owner carves and paints the heads himself.

Around this time the sky began to darken, and we ended up in quite a rainstorm as we worked our way back up towards our hotel. Closer to the north end of downtown is a closed-down Art Deco theater. Worth a look if you are in town.  I looked on Google Maps to try to find it again, but was unable to - if I ever figure out the exact location I'll come update. (In any case, you can't go inside). 

And we enjoyed a few more old temples that are not as well-known as Chaotian Temple:


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And this interesting home - the owner happily invited us in and showed us around.

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I feel like something is missing here. 


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Apparently I am not the only one who leaves this wish at every temple


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We then picked up our luggage and headed to Taixi Bus Company (台西客運) at #117 Zhongzheng Road, which is a bit south of the bus station - more like a parking lot - where we were dropped off. We learned that the next bus to Xiluo wouldn't leave for close to 2 hours, so we wandered next door where we'd noticed a Vietnamese restaurant.

And by god, it was amazing. We got a regular pho with clear but deeply flavorful, velvety broth and a more "curried" pho that was also delicious. On top of that, we got fried rolls with lettuce, a typical Vietnamese dish. It should be located at #115 Zhongzheng Road (北港市中正路115號).

I highly recommend planning to eat at this place for lunch by figuring out when your particular bus leaves and showing up early.

We finally hopped a bus to Xiluo, where our airbnb host was kind enough to pick us up (the airbnb is about a 1km walk from the bus station). It didn't take more than a half hour to get there - distances are not far and roads are flat.

There is so much Japanese-era architecture in Xiluo that you can't help but notice it on the bus into town.

We put our bags down and walked up to Fuxing temple, where we dallied until nearly sunset. This temple is right where Fuxing Road meets Yanping Road, and was built in the 1700s. It houses a famous Matsu idol called the "Taiping Matsu".

As dusk set in we walked down the non-touristy part of Yanping Road, where most of the intriguing architecture can be found. We also walked down to the touristy end, but night had fallen by then and everything was closed, including the cafes.

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I had noticed more than a few goose restaurants, so we decided on goose noodles for dinner, choosing the place right across from the bus station near Cafe 85. name and address?

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Here's the thing about our travels - we like to explore during the day, get dinner and rather than party at night, just find a nice cafe where we can sit, read and relax. If there is an especially good bar or lounge we might go, but really we're nerds who like to read. There are cafes in Xiluo, but they are on the old street and close early when the tourists leave.

Downtown Xiluo at night looked more lively than I would have expected. I honestly hoped we'd be able to find something. Even a Starbucks. Anything. We walked and walked.

Nope. Nothing.

So we ended up hanging out at Cafe 85, which is nobody's idea of fun. There is not a lot to do after dark in these small towns, so you can always be sure to get back to your accommodation earlyish - we liked this as it meant we might get to chat with the airbnb family, or at least ensure they didn't worry about us (if you're out past midnight in Xiluo something probably is very wrong).

Another tip for traveling in Yunlin: be smart, bring some of those filter coffee packets, the kind that have paper legs that sit on your cup and make a real cup of coffee, and a travel mug. Some creamer if you like that. You can always get hot water but getting coffee in the morning might entail a longer walk than you're used to.

The next day was a bit better. We got rained on, and how! But the Art Deco architecture on the touristy end of Yanping street really is unique, including these oft-photographed buildings:

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And while small, the little tourist-oriented market included a guy selling lychee liquor he'd made himself, which we bought. "Famous" Yunlin soy sauce was also available but I'm more interested in lychee liquor. There were a few small coffeeshops which was perfect, as it poured for some time. We sat and read books in one until the storm passed, before wandering down to the abandoned theater.

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Anyway, enjoy some photos of the theater. Which, by the way, has an open door. You can go right in. Don't even worry about it. We are not major urban explorers or explorers of abandoned spaces and we never felt it was a problem, or particularly dangerous. If you are not hobbyists but want to dip your toe into creeping around abandoned spaces this is a great place to start, is what I'm trying to say.


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Nearby is a nondescript little temple, worth mentioning only because on that day, someone had paid for a puppet show to be played to the gods. A few local obasans also watched, and we stayed for awhile too. But not knowing the story, a few minutes was enough (I can sit through entire Taiwanese operas as long as I know the story).

There is also a bridge from Xiluo to Zhanghua county, but being generally unimpressed with bridges and that particular bridge being a few kilometers' walk, we skipped it. You probably can too.

It was late afternoon, then, when we headed back to the bus station and hopped a bus to the county seat at Douliu.

Douliu, being a bigger town generally, has, well, more. The traffic circle in front of the train station has quite literally the ugliest "public art" I've ever seen - so ugly I actually liked it, like it was so horrid that it circled back around to being amazing. Taiping Road branches off of this circle, but we wanted to drop off our bags.

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We both paused at the traffic circle in Douliu to really digest how ugly that thing is. It is quite possibly the ugliest piece of public architecture/"art" I have ever seen. Wow. So ugly. 


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We walked to the airbnb this time (but when we returned to catch the shuttle to the HSR, we got a ride). Down Guangfu Road, past a nice little coffeeshop and a school, in a small residential area behind a Quanlian (全聯) supermarket. Quite walkable, in fact, though it would be annoying in the rain. For once, the skies were kind.

It was already getting dark, but there was just about enough light left to eat some squid soup and then head down Taiping Street. The soup was delicious, and can be found at 阿國獅魷魚羹 at the corner of Datong and Zhongzheng Roads (大同中正路口).

Then we managed to catch a taxi by the train station out to the night market, which was on the edge of town - held only on Saturdays because Douliu only has so many people.

It was clearly quite a good night market on clear nights - a huge empty field revealed how large it would normally have been. It had rained so much the weekend we were there that only a small portion of it - perhaps one-fifth - was open. It didn't cater to Western tastes - don't think you're going to the rural equivalent of Tonghua or Shilin here - but there was good food to be had and vendors to look at. We even managed to catch a taxi back - something we were worried about in sleepy little Douliu, so much so that we got our original taxi driver's phone number - passing a few high-end restaurants (some looking nicer than they really needed to in Douliu) and the fanciest Donutes I've ever seen. For those of you unfamiliar with Donutes (yes, that is how it's spelled), it's a mediocre cafe chain that can be found in most cities in Taiwan except Taipei. There is even one in Donggang). This Donutes looked like a blinged-out nightclub, and I wasn't sure what to make of that.

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Anyway, don't go to Donutes. In Douliu, you actually have options! In addition to Ou Tu Cafe in a Japanese-era wooden house mentioned below, I can't remember when we went but So Coffee (騷咖啡) cafe near our homestay is also quite nice - huge smoothies, good coffee, food and a little boutique area selling handmade leather goods. And, they are centrally located and open reasonably late for a town like Douliu.

So Coffee (騷咖啡)

#15 Wenhua Road, Douliu
斗六市文化路15號


We headed back to our homestay and the hosts offered us tea - we watched TV, chatted and drank tea until about 11pm! Their living room was very traditionally decorated, so it was quite lovely in fact.

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CREEPY


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Taiping Street



The next day rain struck again. We started out going to the Dao/Confucius temple up the road from our airbnb, called 善修宮(Shan-Xiu Gong) off of Yongfu Street. The front is a typical Daoist temple, nothing you haven't seen before. It is dedicated to Guandi, and is fairly new. Then you can go to the back hall, which is a new-ish Confucian temple. The interesting thing about this place is not how it looks - it's pretty typical. It's that, while Buddhist and Daoist temples often intermingle in a syncretic display of gods and traditions, Confucian-Dao temple mashups are rare. Rare enough that I do not know of another one existing.

Behind it, where Wenbin Road meets Neihuan Road, there appears to be another cafe called Lao Wu (老誤咖啡) which seems to have a garden - but we didn't go. 



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The Dao-Confucian Temple


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The Dao-Confucian temple was not that aesthetically different, it was just unique to see the two temple styles appended to each other


We then wandered down Taiping Street again, turning this time at the end toward a group of Japanese wooden houses I'd seen on Google Maps. We found them, and one of them had been turned into a cafe so hip that it could hold its own in Taipei or Tainan. I can't find much about them - you can walk around the area but not enter any of the buildings other than the cafe.

You'll know it because it's the picture that headed up this post - I liked this place so much I gave it the top spot. 

凹凸咖啡館 (Oh-Two Cafe)

Yunzhong Street Lane 9 #12 (near the intersection of Yunlin and Yunzhong)
斗六市雲中街9巷12號(雲林雲中路口)
We entered intending to stay for awhile before heading out and walking around town some more, only to be hit with the worst thunderstorm yet - a true rumbler, black skies and all. We stayed put for far longer than we ordinarily would have and ended up changing seats several times (there is actually a time limit to how long you can stay but they weren't busy so they didn't kick us out). It rained for so hard and so long that we must have stayed for hours. 

As the storm screamed in, I sat from my comfortable perch in a sheltered cafe looking out over a small field, where a woman in a traditional hat was working in a garden at the far end. She worked almost right through the rain, only giving up when the lightning started to get frightfully close. 



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We didn't eat here but we should have


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In the Dao-Confucian temple


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Enjoying our coffee while Auntie is straight savage in the garden in the pouring rain


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Basically a perfect place to spend a rainy afternoon


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Hanging out on the porch in the rain at Oh-Two Cafe

The next day, we caught a ride back to the bus station and took the shuttle to the HSR without incident - and this, my friends, is what it means to have sensible public transit.

Thoughts

All in all, I'm not sure any one town in Yunlin can hold your attention for more than a day. I would have liked to do more in each, but the inclement weather drove us indoors for much of it. I don't mind that though - it was meant to be a relaxing vacation and the chance to sit around and read as a storm passes by is fine by me. In any case you can't make plans in Taiwan based too much on the weather because if you do, you'll never go anywhere. I would have liked an extra few days to explore Gukeng, Xingang and Huwei, but at the same time I was satisfied. Yunlin won't blow your socks off - we're not talking preserved architecture on the scale of Kinmen, gorgeous Pacific Island vistas like the east coast and Green and Orchid islands or even loads of temples like Tainan or Lugang. But if you're an expat looking for something a little more local and unique, who doesn't want to just check off sights on a list but would rather hang out, walk around and absorb small town atmosphere in fairly pleasant if somewhat sleepy towns, Yunlin actually has a lot to offer. If anything, its status as a place nobody who isn't from there goes to means a lot of architectural gems that have been razed for new development in more hopping places have lasted in Yunlin.


This is especially true if you're interested in visiting some of the 'heartlands' of Taiwanese culture - if you live in Taiwan, pretty much every local person you know has an ancestor from Miaoli or Yunlin (if their 92-year-old Hakka grandmother isn't from Miaoli, their 95-year-old Hoklo grandmother is quite likely from Yunlin) or just want to see what these towns your friends return to on Chinese New Year are like. Or, if you want to know where all the young Taiwanese who are sick of shitty soul-sucking office jobs working for The Man are going to start their hometown cafes...it's places like Yunlin. 


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Old Tatung fan at Ou Tu (凹凸) Cafe


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I just thought this bear looked really sad and I wanted to share