Shit my boss says (3)

Working in a private cram school you soon become accustomed to the fact that you don’t work for a ‘school’ in any normal sense of the word. No, you work for a money-making machine whose product is small pieces of paper which apparently serve the purpose of assuring parents that their special little angel isn’t a complete fuckwit. Student enrolment is the fuel for this machine so education unashamedly takes a back seat to class numbers and any student leaving classes is an instant black mark against the teacher.

In Taiwan there exists a certain disconnect with reality which affects many of the population (my own personal hypothesis is that people are taught nothing vaguely resembling critical thinking or independent learning, but that’s another post for another blog) and this manifest itself in my school as the boss’s tendency to lay the blame for any student departure squarely on the shoulders of the teacher. This happens regardless of the actual reason and he will lie to your face about said reason if the real one doesn’t suit his purposes. (Incidentally, lying is integral to Taiwanese and Chinese culture, used to ‘save face’. Unfortunate, as nothing will cause someone to lose face faster in my eyes than lying to me.) His purpose in doing this is unclear but the current best guesses among my coworkers are 1) a belief that stress and low self-esteem will make us happier, more productive workers and 2) the fact that he’s utterly unqualified to run a business.

Why do we say unqualified? After all, none of us have run our own businesses so who are we to talk? Well, one of the basic facts of business, any business, is that over time you will lose customers and that in many cases there will be absolutely nothing you can do about this. It happens, businesses deal with it. The key is attracting new customers to fill the gap (and then some) to ensure a steady flow of income. My boss has failed to grasp this fundamental law and seems to assume (probably thanks to his astrologer) that new students will just come to him – he has built it, they will come. Of course any attempt to ask him about his efforts to attract new students are met with “Erm, well…” *mops brow* “tough market…” *mops brow* “thinking of something…” *exits room*

So anyway, here are some of the reasons for student departures as given by my boss first, then the real reasons gleaned from my teaching assistants. Yup, all my fault. I am a poor teacher.

Dora and Tammy (twins) – Boss: “We don’t know, they’re not coming back. This is not good.” TA Melissa: “They’ve gone on a long summer holiday to America. They might be back after.” Fault: mine.

Joe – Boss: “He just said he’s not coming back. We don’t know why. If the class was good he would have stayed.” TA Christy: “He’s moved to DaJia (35km away), it’s too far to drive every day.” Fault: mine.

Shinny – Boss: “She says the class is too easy for her” (NB: she consistently finishes middle of the class in scores) TA Christy: “She’s moved to another school because it was cheaper” (NB: my school is one of the most expensive in the business, and incidentally pays almost the lowest wages) Fault: mine

Dora – Boss: “She doesn’t want to come back, she must not like the class” (NB: Dora was one of my favourite students because she always enjoyed the classes and even made her parents let her come when she was ill) TA Steven: “She thinks there is too much homework, it’s too much stress. She might come back and join one of your low level classes” (NB: homework is set by the school, it is entirely out of my hands) Fault: mine.

Here’s my favourite though. Benson, a very bright yet insolent and loud student, left  out of the blue. I’d been working to get him calm down since arriving in Taiwan and it was finally working, we’d established some level of mutual respect and he was in the middle of a huge breakthrough. On the final day of his most recent course, when parents come to the class and certificates are handed out, he committed the heinous crime of putting his first place certificate in his bag while my boss was addressing the class. He was bawled and screamed at for a good two minutes, to the extent that the other students, my TA and myself were all clearly uncomfortable. It was a totally unwarranted and disproportionate display. The following day I was informed that Benson would not be returning for the next course.

Boss: “I don’t know. It is very sad”
Benson, on meeting him by chance in a supermarket near the school two weeks after this incident: “Eric is an idiot. He shouldn’t have shouted at me like that. If he had asked me to stop and listen I would have done it, I just wanted to put the prize away, and he always tells us to put our things away. I’m at another school now.”
Fault: mine.

That’s a taster of what we have to deal with on a daily basis over here. Sorry for the rantage but recently things have been getting pretty damned stressful and some venting was necessarily. I promise the next post will be about kittens or some such…

Sexism and ‘male white privilege’

This past couple of days has seen a minor shitstorm go down on a local Facebook group for teachers in the Changhua area, home to a couple of my friends. The kindling for the inferno was a post someone made about a Taiwanese woman looking for private English lessons and stating specifically that she would prefer a female teacher. This was a red rag to certain bulls and before long the thread was hijacked by allegations of sexism being thrown around with nary a thought for the woman’s thoughts and intentions. I disagree with the sexism label being used here.

For one thing it is overwhelmingly likely that since this is a request for private lessons then the woman is simply concerned with her safety and may also want to improve her conversational English to chat with other female friends. Stating that there is generally a massive difference between male and female topics and styles of conversation is not sexist, it’s merely pointing out a fact. Furthermore, even if it were purely a sexist remark then so what? There is no law against holding abhorrent views and unless you are an organisation or individual receiving taxpayer money for your endeavours then hire whoever you please.

This is all beside the point though. What really stoked some people’s fires was a statement by the woman who facilitated the initial request to the effect that this cannot be sexist because it is a woman making the request. This woman, going by the handle of Mere Greta, lambasted others for their lack of education and the fact that they hadn’t read enough Simone De Beauvoir (a good thing too, her writing style is dreadful) but went on to make the harmful, offensive and just reality-defying claim that sexism is a one-way street and that sexism towards men cannot exist because men haven’t had to endure millennia of instutionalised discrimination.

Not only does this fly in the face of every definition of sexism in dictionaries and encyclopaedias around the world (discrimination based on sex) but it contains a deeply disturbing underlying assumption, one more prevalent in fundamentalist sects of Abrahamic religions than anywhere else. Namely that the current generation of men trying to redress the age-old balance and institute some form of sexual and racial equality are somehow responsible for the uninformed and brutal behaviour of their ancestors and are therefore not deserving of the same protections they are attempting to provide others.

This is nothing but Bronze Age thinking transposed to the modern day and it simply doesn’t work. For starters it is based on nothing more than the ridiculous pre-genetic notion of bloodline and some manner of essence being passed down the generations. The simple fact is that I share around 50% of my genetic info with my father, 25% with my grandfather, 12.5% with my great-grandfather  and so on. Go back 10 generations and we’re as different as any two people on the planet. This great chain of sin simply doesn’t hold any water. By the same reasoning, if someone in Bulgaria returns a Transformers DVD late then everyone on Earth should be joining together to pay the fine.

Even if there were some great eternal chain joining me to those in my distant past, or even men in general, there still would be no grounds to hold me guilty of their crimes. The simple fact is that I am not them. I am not now and can never be responsible for the actions of another, neither my ancestors nor my offspring. As Sartre pointed out, the fundamental condition of humanity is that we are always responsible for our own actions and only our own actions. To imply otherwise, as Greta did, is foolish and dangerous.

Now, in response to Greta’s claims there were several angry replies, some implying that she was ‘crazy’ among other things. This provoked a backlash against the backlash (a frontlash?) and produced the usual excessively PC protestations one might expect when someone’s mental faculties have been questioned. This was amusing to me as clearly someone who is so detached from reality may well be described as ‘crazy’ or any equivalent yet mysteriously less offensive terms. What invoked my ire was the frontlasher playing one of the most misused and abused cards in modern debating history – Male White Privilege.

Now I believe I fully understand and appreciate the concept of MWP. By virtue of being born with white skin and a penis I have been almost assured an easier passage through life than many others. This isn’t due to some massive conspiracy or anything so sinister, it’s simply a result of history, the way the world is right now. MWP probably won’t exist in a few centuries but it does right now and the best that us white guys can do right now is to try to recognise it and be aware of it at all times.

However, that does NOT mean that non-whites and/or non-males have the right to use MWP as a sledgehammer in debates which aren’t going their way. This is how it was used on the conversation in question and how it is almost always employed in dialogue outside academic circles – as a tool of censorship. It essentially says “You were born with white skin and a dick so your opinion cannot carry any weight in situations regarding sex and/or race. Please be quiet and let us oppressed people get on with it.” A second’s consideration will reveal that this sentiment, while ostensibly well-meaning, is utterly vacuous and not in the slightest bit helpful.

Lets take it to its logical conclusion. I am a teacher. I teach English as a second language. I have never learned English as a second language. Therefore I am not qualified to teach it. Imagine I am a drug counsellor. I counsel addicts through their withdrawal and continued abstinence. Yet I have only personally been addicted to barbiturates so I cannot help those escaping heroin, cocaine, etc.

This is so obviously wrong yet it is the same mistake the abusers of the MWP card are making. I lack specific experience in a given situation so my opinions are rendered invalid. My right to engage in the debate is rescinded. Opinions are restricted to those already in the group and outside experience is neither desired nor required.

It saddens me that we still have to endure sexism, racism, homophobia (hey, why don’t they get an -ism?) and the like in the 21st century but that we do is a fact and we must deal with it and try to eradicate it as best we can. Attitudes like those above do not help this cause, they merely serve to frustrate those who would try to help and reduce the causes they are ostensibly promoting to warped caricatures, making it all the more difficult to engage with them productively. If people would stop being so over-sensitive, insanely PC and engaged in a little more rational analysis then perhaps we might work our way to a better world all the quicker.

Chinese Diary (中文日记) Part 1

Since one of my New Years’s resolutions is to learn to read and write 1,500 Chinese characters I’ve been thinking of ways to get some practice. This is one such idea. Each week Wendy (安欣), my Chinese tutor, has me write a diary in ZhuYin, the Taiwanese phonetic alphabet, to practice my new vocabulary. Given that I’m just a beginner it’s hardly Samuel Pepys but it’s enough to try some new grammar and the like. However, the fact that it’s in ZhuYin (or BoPoMoFo) means that I don’t actually write the characters so I hit upon an idea – type my ZhuYin into a Google Translate box and I can get rough guesses for all the characters I don’t already recognise (i.e. the overwhelming majority of them).

This is the result. I’m hoping that I can use this exercise to a) get quicker at using ZhuYin input on my computer, b) speed the process of character recognition and c) get some constructive criticism from friends and corrections from Wendy. The first batch is from the first week of the year when I was hideously ill with pneumonia. Future updates will not be in chronological order, they will be posted at haphazard intervals and they will mostly consist of shoddy Chinese. For my non-Chinese speaking buddies around the world – just run it through Google Translate and trust me when I say it actually makes sense…

Oh, and thanks to Bear (熊熊), 我的女朋友, for her help and patience with correcting this

1/1 – 我下午兩點去呼嚕咖啡，可是我覺得我感冒了。我七點和熊熊一起去日本餐廳吃晚餐。好吃！因爲我生病了，所以我九點就回家了。

2/1 – 因爲安欣去了韓國和她的男朋友碰面，所以我不用上課。我還在生病所以我早一點十一點鐘就去補習班，再去看醫生。他告訴我「你一定要去醫院！」。所以我去了醫院。醫生跟我說我有肺炎，好可怕！我回家，吃很多的藥。我很悽慘。

3/1 因爲我生病，所以不用上課。我應該要休息但是我還是去了默契咖啡，喝普洱茶。很好喝！我寫了三個小時的中文字。

4/1 我還是在生病。我早上去呼嚕咖啡一下子就回家了。我晚上看很多的電視。

5/1 下午熊熊來我家。她媽媽幫我煮的湯麵，真的好吃！雖然我生病，但是這讓我很開心。

6/1 我今天身體覺得有點糟所以我和我的老闆的妹婿去醫院。醫生給我很多的新藥。

7/1 我下午去默契咖啡，喝普洱茶和學中文字。晚上熊熊來我家。我們吃晚餐，看「Real Steel」然後上英文課！我們兩點左右睡覺。

8/1 我好了，可是我的聽力還是不好。中午我去默契咖啡寫作業。我好多了！

P.S. I know that this is a very short entry. Most will be even shorter as this takes me an insane amount of time to do

First shots from the LCA+

Whoop, got my first rolls of film back from the shop and the shots don’t all suck! Last time I used a film camera I remember always being disappointed when the developers would only return a handful of shots, the rest being washouts. The past couple of days I’d been expecting the same to happen, every shot blurred beyond belief or badly exposed. Surprise, surprise it’s actually not half bad, especially for a first run where I was basically just rapid-fire clicking to burn through the rolls and see some results.

Here are a few of the better shots…

Chalkboard wall at the back of Forro Cafe, my home from home

Outside Forro, I'm always tempted to ride this thing...

This is why I love Forro. Where else has a tree growing from the ceiling, next to a wall of Post-It notes and an Escher-esque staircase ending nowhere?

Chinese homework and a glass of 學校生咖啡 - perfection...Ivy and Ponni hard at work behind my Friday Night Beer (tm)

Ivy and Ponni again

Bear after a long shift - this girl works too hard

 

Bear and Asuka looking all spooky and double-exposed

Iced cappucino at my other favourite haunt, Match Cafe

Sarkis, one of my students. His name sounds like 'circus' and he acts like an animal. Funny that...Adrian hard at work in the teacher's room. I love how the colours make it look like a psychiatric institution. Very apt.

View from my rooftop at night

I just liked the text on the t-shirt

View down GongYi Road

The One Hotel, pretty much dead centre of town

Double exposure at CMP Block

This shot was only possible for a split second thanks to wind and a fidgety subject. Yay for lucky timing.

Kids outside CMP Block

Erm, I have no idea but I like it. Happy accident I'd happily use this as an album cover actually...

That’s all for now, more to come when I get them developed. There were 72 in this first batch and they all, bar one, came out well. These were just my favourites. Verdict? I really, really like this camera. Things are going to get expensive…

New toy! My Lomo LCA+

Just couldn’t resist, savings be damned. I’ve indulged my photography addiction and got myself a new piece of kit. Not the ultra-wide lens I was planning on, not a new DSLR, but something completely different. Yes, I’ve finally succumbed and joined the ranks of film junkies – not with a bargain pro camera but with the Lomo LCA+, a refurbished Soviet icon which has attracted a cult following thanks to its vignetting, over-saturated colours and the charm of its simplistic design and solid build quality. My friend Bear at Forro Cafe (呼嚕咖啡) sang its praises over my initial choice, the Diana, and after five minutes of picking up her own older model and playing with it I was sold.

My Lomo LCA+ with wide angle lens attached (thanks to Bear at Forro Cafe for the photo!)

Taking the leap back to analogue photography isn’t easy after training yourself  in all things digital and becoming accustomed to the safety nets and comforters it provides. Near-unlimited storage thanks to increasingly cheap memory cards? Gone, now every shot counts and costs. Fire-and-forget photography is no longer an option, you have to get it right first time or not at all. The instant gratification of the LCD panel? Forget about it. Now I have to wait for a little counter to creep up to 36, find a camera store, wait for processing and printing and only then will I know if I got even a single keeper. The entire roll could be a bust, who knows? Even something as simple and commonplace as autofocus is gone – I now select from 4 ‘focus zones’ of 0.8m, 1.5m, 3m and infinity, the first three with unforgivingly narrow depth of focus. In fact any semblance of control is now gone: I choose my focus zone, ASA setting and that’s it. No white balance, no shutter speed or aperture, no B/W option, nothing. Scary…

Still, I did this in high school and absolutely loved it and I’m already feeling addiction creeping in with this camera. There’s something about not only hearing but really feeling the ‘click’ of the shutter button that makes it somehow more real (sorry to sound like an obnoxious hipster). Anticipating the development of the first roll already has me excited, despite the fact that I have to get someone else to do it. Note to self – look up places which might let me use darkrooms…As an added bonus, this new model has a nifty button on the underside which allows for simple multiple exposures without fiddling around with rewinding films – prepare for some uber-cheesy images! The wide angle lens I opted for as well (thanks to the Taichung Lomography Embassy Store for a good deal…) has given me the little bit of flexibility I need. The other accessories for the LCA+ are weird and wonderful and I’ll no doubt try them out soon enough but for now it’s time to play.

The only downside to this – I was given two rolls of 100ASA film as a starter but my hours and the current weather make that a less than perfect choice. I’ll burn through them as practice as quickly as possible and pick up some 400 to give me more shooting options. And maybe some expired film for shits and giggles. And a colour flash. And the tunnel vision lens. And… and… and…

Oh dear.

Oops, slipped…

Yeah, guess I kinda forgot that this thing existed for a while there. Don’t worry, all is well in the land of Cannonball. I’m just too damned busy with life’s multiple pleasantries to have bothered with blowing the dust off the blog. By the time I remembered about it I needed an industrial vacuum cleaner just to graze the surface.

So what’s poppin’ daddy-o? What’s the word on the street? Well things haven’t moved on considerably from the last update – Taichung’s still entrancing me and working its magic at every turn. The past six weeks have seen me finally tapping into the music scene – supposedly dead if you believe the majority of westerners here but still alive and kicking in an underground ‘fight the power’ kind of way, kept alive by the vigour and determination of youth and by the unstoppable force of rawk. This long-overdue immersion in a buzzing live scene has had two major effects on me, primarily quenching the thirst for music which has dogged me since Thailand where the best you could hope for was a semi-decent version of Thee Cranberries’ ‘Zombie’ or the ever-present ‘Desperado’. To finally rediscover the kids rocking their socks off has been a most pleasant revelation.

However, one thirst is quenched only to see a fresh hunger arise. Standing in the audience for  an all-day concert partly organised by an acquaintance of mine at Stock 20 I suddenly felt my fingers itching, feeling for frets and pick, my right toe seeking out the comforting click of the ODB3. I need to join and band and I need to do it now, lest the forces of disgusting rock thunder rising in my belly burst through my chest a la John Hurt. Specifically I need to join an original local band – I’m loving the Taiwanese music vibe and have an urge to add my own sleazy bass to that mix, no offence to the many ex-pat bands out there! The feelers are out and I may have a spot in a covers band set up by some friends of a friend but there are creative urges stirring within me and it may finally be time to unleash my own musical malevolence upon the unsuspecting populace. Think Kiltreiser Mark 2 mixed with the sleaze of Zodiac Mindwarp, the swagger of Monster Magnet and the psychosis of White Zombie. Think of that and weep for the future…

In other news, the Chinese learning is coming on at pace thanks in no small part to the efforts of An Xien, my fantastic teacher. Since the last post I’ve made my first forays into typing in Chinese using ZhuYin/BoPoMoFo as an intermediary but it’s a hellishly slow and painful process. For starters I don’t have a Taiwanese keyboard on either laptop, meaning I’m forced to look at an image of such a keyboard, memorise the keys required for the relevant symbols and then enter those on my chosen application. Then, if I’m lucky, the correct translations will magically appear on my screen. If. If I’m lucky. Usually I’m not and my knowledge of Chinese characters is abysmal so I’m forced to cycle through the seemingly endless alternative possibilities which correspond to my ZhuYin entry, eventually entrusting my literary fate to the vagaries of Google Translate (at times my best friend or worst enemy).

So no Chinese for you this time around but my plan is to write my next post all in Chinese. That’s right. If I start now it’ll be finished by Christmas…

On the ‘other news’ front, the endless summer seems to finally be on the way out here and the temperature has dropped a glorious ten degrees or so since last week. The difference this has made to my ability to sleep has been immeasurable and I already feel more energised. Just as well because the cooler climate makes cycling to work a possibility again. This shopping list keeps growing – bass guitar, bass distortion pedal, new road bike (old one to be donated to Pedals For Paws), smartphone, more bedroom furniture. Just as well I no longer give so much of a damn about saving seeing as I’m likely here for the long haul now.

Also I managed to meet  with an old flame for a pleasant wander around the parks and galleries of Taichung. Admittedly I was a touch nervous beforehand – okay, really fucking nervous – but it was almost like we’d gone back to the friends phase we enjoyed before we became involved with each other. Hopefully this means it can happen more often with a similar lack of awkwardness, sadness or anything else. To add to the Thailand-related news, another old friend is finally leaving the land of smiles and is almost certainly heading for these shores, yay for familiar faces. I’m still working on getting another one to abandon the wild cornfields of Iowa for the gentle pace of Taichung, will see how that goes…

Well, this Chinese homework isn’t going to finish itself so time to get the nose back to the grindstone. Until next time – which I promise will not be as long coming as this was - 拜拜.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

What a difference a month or two makes. If you’d spoken to me back in mid-June you’d have been scrabbling for excuses to leave the conversation. New land fatigue had well and truly set in and was weighing me down, leadening my boots and draining the colour from every scene. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t save any money – unexpected and necessary expenses cropped up around every corner and drained me dry. Big city life was stifling me, the looming towers threatening to crush me and every polluted breathe choking the life from me. The language, thanks to my own laziness. remained an impenetrable mystery, confounding any attempt to bond with the country, culture and people.  More than anything I still felt isolated, the kind of isolation you only get in a city teeming with millions of other souls. If you’d asked me then what my plans were I’d answer without hesitation that I was finishing my contract then returning to Surat Thani to recuperate.

Things change though.

As mentioned in a previous post I’ve started making inroads into learning Mandarin, tackling reading, listening and speaking from three different angles. Despite having barely scratched the surface of an incredibly intricate and archaic language I’ve already developed the confidence to be using it every day and have developed a thirst, bordering on obsession, for learning more.

As if in some cosmic reward for my efforts, my finances have also started to settle down, the dollars starting to pile up in the bank account as hoped. Small changes to the saving schedule have been made of necessity (travelling all the way back to Scotland for a wedding puts a dent in any plan!) but it’ll all be on track soon. Despite writing off the first three months I’ve managed to squirrel away almost as much in the past two as I did in over a year in Thailand.

With this new-found linguistic and financial security I’ve been able to appreciate the city more. Not just the city itself but the all-important surroundings – Dakeng, Miaoli and the countless other breathing spaces which offer welcome respite from the fumes and bustle of the centre. Even within the confines of the metropolitan area I’m learning how to ignore the bad and appreciate the good, taking delight in every newly-discovered park, cafe or social event.

The social problems are also fading and I’m accepting the fact that a city this size can never accommodate as close-knit a social scene as sleepy little Surat. Between the size and my decidedly anti-social work schedule I’m getting happier with a growing network of casual acquaintances rather than a small circle of close friends. It’s not better or worse, just different. And since my photography exploits at a protest rally last weekend my circle of Taiwanese friends has exploded, opening up all kinds of opportunities. Most of those in attendance were musicians, perhaps some kind of band may be on the horizon…?

(This paragraph has been deleted in the interested of avoiding jinxdom)

So yeah, things are changing, and changing for the better. Money’s good, language is good, health is the best it’s been for ages and the city is finally opening itself up to me. So what are my plans? Well, Thailand still occupies a massive, squishy place in my heart but am I in any rush to leave Formosa and return? Right now that’d be a no. I’m just getting started here.

TILAT #10: Free stuff and generosity

Well dang, there I was going to write another wildlife post about today’s excursion to the thoroughly amazing Metropolitan Park when I remembered I have homework to do. Yes, homework. No time, for writing lengthy screeds, editing 250 photos or love, Dr. Jones. So instead here’s a super-quick couple of Taiwan treasures.

First is the free stuff. It means exactly what it says, there’s free stuff everywhere in this country, it’s fantastic. When I pick up my soy milk at Carrefour every week, guaranteed half the bottles will come tethered to a free pint of some other variety of milk – coffee, flavoured, brown rice milk, plain old coo juice (or boob water if you’re Thai). Not only that but the old woman charged with doing the tethering will thank me profusely for taking one of the free samples! In addition the trek round the store is laced with freebies; on any given day I can gorge myself on baked goods, meats, cheeses and fruits, all washed down with soft drinks or even booze – gratis.

It’s not just the supermarkets, twice now on filling my scooter’s tank with gas (a mere £2.50) I’ve been presented with a much-needed bottle of drinking water. No explanation proffered and none requested. It just happens. Even regular stores love the free sample idea – on browsing the gift shop at Dakeng Honey Museum I was bombarded with honey sweets, honey biscuits, honey booze and, of course, honey. It worked too, went in for a look and left with a litre jar of honey, a box of honey fudge and a bottle  of 40% abv honey liquer! Freebies can be devious.

Now for the generosity. The same helpful spirit which infused Thailand and cemented its place in my heart also exists in Taiwan, although it’s less open. Sometimes though an act of kindness shines through and makes me do an internal happy dance for the remainder of today. Before visiting Metropolitan Park I took a wander up to nearby Art Street, really a collection of small alleys housing all manner of craft and clothes shops and a few cafes. I stopped in at Crab Cafe for some lunch and was seated at the only place available, a rather large four-person table. No bother, suits me.

However, no sooner had my meal been delivered than a family of four walked in and were stuck for a seat. Being the gentleman I am (Hear that? That’s my own trumpet. I’m blowing it.) I offered to move to a newly-vacated two-seater in horribly broken Chinese and was treated to thanks and smiles from the group and staff. By the time I finished my leisurely coffee and read a little the cafe was nearly empty and I stepped up to pay my bill. The woman behind the counter looked confused and called for her partner, indicating that she couldn’t find the bill. It transpires that the family had paid my tab and didn’t so much as say goodbye for fear of disturbing my reading.

Aww. Made me feel like I was cuddling a puppy for the next half hour*. When you’re having troubles and kinda need home or a friendly face or any link to reality, a little gesture like that goes a long way. Thanks Taiwan.

* It only lasted half an hour because by that time I was, inevitably, incensed by Taiwanese drivers once again. Even called one an ass-pyjama although I’m not sure what that means.

Dakeng wildlife

I’m not a city boy. Said it before and I’ll say it again, us humans simply weren’t meant to live in such huge numbers and in such close proximity to others. Ants manage it because they have teeny-tiny, cute little brains but we’re not likewise blessed. So, finding myself in the middle of an urban jungle populated by millions of wind-up worker bees, one of my few tenuous links to sanity is the plethora of hiking trails within a mere half-hour drive of the city centre.

Last weekend saw me exploring Trail 2 (of 8 or 10) in Dakeng Scenic Area, a marvellously unspoiled wilderness just a stone’s throw from the metropolis that is Taichung. The intention was to climb Trail 2, wander along Trail 5 to the top of Trail 1, descend and make my way back to the scooter. My forgetfulness in the sunscreen department coupled with my excessively pale Scottish skin and the searing midday sun (nice job in the timing…) put paid to that plan, necessitating a leisurely ascent then more or less a run straight back down 2 before my skin parted company with my body.

Thankfully I still had time to enjoy the crystal-clear air some stunning views and an unexpected diversity of wild (and tame) life. First, most unexpected and most rewarding were the monkeys. Fairly early into the climb, finding myself alone on the trail, I paused to investigate a rustle in the branches nearby. Primates! Deftly shimmying from tree to tree were a pair of nimble monkeys, regarding me with a little suspicion but no hint of fear and approaching the path ahead of me. I grabbed for the camera and wrestled with the lens, trying to squeeze off a few snaps before they retreated to the jungle. Most were unfortunately blurred but still…

As this fellow and his compatriot crept further and further towards and intersection with my own route I heard further sounds from the hillside to my right and glancing down it became clear what was happening. The tree-bound troop, now numbering five or six, were advance guards, scouting the path to keep it clear for the mothers with children proceeding along the ground. I sat and waited for them to cross the trail, keeping my distance enough to settle them but still close enough for pics. The whole affair was over in a regrettably short time but I loved every second of it. They paused on the trail itself just long enough for us to stare at each other a while before they dusted off, babes clinging on for dear life, back into the undergrowth.

Obviously after something like that the remainder of my encounters were bound to be somewhat less thrilling but hey, I’m a beastie kinda guy so anything with more legs than me is fun. On the way back, retreating from the solar torture I was enduring, I almost squished this flighty little fella. Despite my clumsiness he gracefully agreed to pose for a quick shot. I love lizards and miss the Thai geckos greatly so he slightly eased a pang of homesickness.

Keeping up with the more creepy-crawly theme, as I approached the end of the trail I felt an uneasy sense of dread come over me. Someone or something was watching me, I was sure of it. For a moment I paused, scanning the path and surrounding greenery for any sign of movement, perhaps the return of my simian cousins, but I was alone. Paranoia duly eased I turned to resume my descent to find this specimen dangling not two feet from my face.

Thankfully I’m no spiderphobe. I’ll admit they can give me the chills at times, especially the tiny scuttly variety, but something like this just leaves me awestruck. I mean seriously, look at it! The thing belongs in Starship Troopers, not spinning in the wind in some Taiwanese forest! I should add that it was at least forty inches from toe to toe (for exceptionally small values of forty).

After an eternity of snapping shots – most of which were unfortunately awful – and wishing I had a macro lens to let me get closer, it was time to complete my journey. Minutes later I was at the parking lot and ready to escape the sun’s rays for the day when my final encounter presented itself. Two adorable pups ambled up to me, curious yet keeping their distance and obviously a little afraid. Puppies (and kittens) are my Achilles heel as many people will testify so like a shot I was on my haunches, hand outstretched to allow them to investigate without fear. Instantly they started playing a game of lick and run – taking turns to dart in and lick my fingers before retreating to a safe distance. My heart melted. I wanted so much to take them home but rules and the smiling presence of their owner across the road intervened. Still, I got a couple of keepsakes…

So there you have it, a day in the hills surrounded by beauty and beasts. Consider the  soul soothed for the time being and the cut-and-run urge averted. Dakeng – thanks for existing.

TILAT #9: Learning the lingo

Seems these posts invariably begin with a comparison to Surat. Why break the habit of a blogpostseriestime? In small-town Thailand you soon realise that you have two options – either learn to speak some basic level of Thai or resign yourself to regularly dining from the shelves of 7-11. Given my love of Thai cuisine it’s little surprise that I chose the first route and within a couple of months could hold my own in many a situation (thanks to some help and prodding from a very good friend). The major factor spurring this rapid acquisition was necessity – Surat Thani being a small, non tourist-oriented town there were few English speakers around. Speak Thai or go hungry, that simple.

Enter Taichung. Making the transition from sleepy Surat to a bustling metropolis of several million citizens was extremely difficult but the passage was eased somewhat by the westernisation of Taiwan’s major population centres. Despite frequenting all manner of cafes, bars, supermarkets, banks, etc. I was able to forego learning a single word on Chinese for three months. Seriously, not a jot. My boss would help with any sticky situations and I had Taiwanese friends to translate the ephemera of everyday life for me.

Time after time I told myself I’d learn, I’d get round to it, but excuse piled upon excuse until in my mind the task took on some kind of mythical, Herculean proportions. Mandarin was some unscaleable peak, the Everest of language, a trial I simply wasn’t trained to overcome.

Then I actually tried it.

It started with a website called Memrise which I stumbled upon via an article on why now is a good time to learn Chinese. It sounded like little more than a game, which I suppose it is really. The site introduces you to Chinese characters (or vocabulary from many other languages) one at a time, presenting you with  mnemonics and visuals to aid your memory, pronounciation sound clips, the history of the character and other titbits. After a couple of exposures you’re tested – either you’re shown a character and choose from four translation, shown an English word or phrase and choose from four characters or are simply shown the character and must type the English translation. So far, so basic – here’s the hook. The learning takes place in the guise of a garden – new words are seeds ready to be planted in the greenhouse, once ready to be harvested (tested) they are moved to the garden. Once in the garden they require regular watering (more testing) to avoid wilting. Not only that but testing means points and every successful answer nudges you further up the leaderboard of all users currently learning that language.

I must admit I’m hooked. A couple of log-ins a day has pushed me from zero knowledge of Chinese to the ability to read over 150 characters in just two weeks. Admittedly I still have a long, long way to go (5,000 are needed to fully understand an average newspaper) but this grounding has already given me such a confidence boost. The feeling of seeing a previously incomprehensible sign and understanding enough to make a (correct) educated guess about the rest is indescribable. It’s also dangerous – I find myself staring at every shopfront I pass on my scooter, looking for the odd symbol which will give me some clue as to the store’s contents.

This immediate rush of success-endorphins (they’re real, I said so) has led to my dusting off previously downloaded and soon forgotten language audiobooks for a serious effort. Within a week I can already tell people in great detail how poor my Chinese is and I can ask for (and understand) directions to the nearest language school! Tomorrow I begin private lessons with a friend who frequents the same cafe as myself every Sunday so hopefully my speaking will soon be on track with my reading.

The bonus about this sudden craving for knowledge is that it seems to brighten every aspect of life. I have a new passion, the city and culture seems less foreboding and closed-off and the ego boost is fantastic. As a reward I’m about to order a bottle of Guinness from Forro Cafe – in Chinese! Chin-chin…