Would You Like A Drink With That Grain Of Rice?

food continued...

One thing pointed out to me before leaving for Taiwan, by many a person, was the need for chopstick skills. On multiple occasions, whilst dining on fine Asian cuisine in the States, someone pointed out that the real test to knowing whether or not you are good with chopsticks is how well you can pick up a single grain of rice. "Try picking up that grain of rice by itself," they'd say. "Let's play a game and pass this grain of rice to each other using chopsticks," they'd joke. And I was under the same impression. Chopstick skills require attention to detail, right?

Wrong. This, in retrospect, was quite possibly the dumbest notion ever to have crossed my mind, and I have done some sublimely idiotic things in my day. Really, who the hell eats rice one grain at a time? I mean, after a long days work on the job hunt and skipping a meal because I was at an interview, the first idea that crawls around between my ears is usually something along the lines of "I can't wait to eat this rice one by one by one by one." Cast under a spell of Western ignorance, and now brought into the light, I see the folly in my previous thought processes and gleefully shovel as much rice into my mouth as humanly possible. And then, with a mouth full of rice I reach over to have a drink and swash it all down, right?

Wrong. There are no drinks with meals here. If you're lucky enough to find a place that serves drinks, good luck getting a refill. The first night in Taiwan, Uncle Fred took Johnny and I out for dinner. We were having soup and I took a bottle of water out of my bag to have a swig of something cold. I received a good number of looks that all said the same thing, "What's with this guy?" As Uncle Fred explained, "Why do you need a drink if you've having soup?" I guess it kind of makes sense. You have your entire breakfast, lunch or dinner right in front of you, all in one bowl. Beverage included with the price of the meal. And what if you're having dry food that doesn't have soup in it, like a plate of noodles, you ask? Well, you just order a bowl of soup to go with it, of course.

An Endless Search for Hun Tun Mian

"How do you feel about the soup?"
"It tastes like a basement."
"Funny, I was thinking Grandma's house."

It has come to pass that the majority of our meal time conversations are about trying to figure out exactly what the hell we're eating. It's kind of fun actually. The streets of Taipei are littered with an abundance of street vendors peddling food from carts much like you would see on the streets of New York. On top of that, about 4 out of every 5 storefronts is a restaurant (the other 20% are banks or 7-11s). We sit down when we see something that looks tasty, or at the very least edible, attempt to have a dialogue in Changlish with the owner that usually just ends up confused expressions on all parties involved, and we sit down.

Plate of Dumplings with Grandma's Basement Soup

Countless times we have searched for Hun Tun Mian (Won Ton Soup with Noodles) and came up short. As each meal came, looking distinctly not like Hun Tian Mian, I shed a little tear and dug in. Not knowing what to expect, the first few bites are always a little interesting, but by the end of the meal the soup that once tasted like Grandma's basement is quite enjoyable. And each meal without Hun Tuns will just make the payoff that much more delicious.

Also, please note that I have uploaded some pictures for your enjoyment. You can find the link to my Picasa album on the left hand side of your screen, right below my beautiful mug.

Home Sweet Home

Enjoy the tour as your humble narrator takes you through his apartment.

Thar she blows.

End of tour.

That's our room. All 16 square feet of her.
Please note the window to the bathroom and the lack of a second bed.
It's almost humorful, but I will survive. And make up words in the process.

Massages with Uncle Fred

So I wake up Sunday morning and after a quick Skype call home, decide that the day is going to be a recovery day to lay in bed and recuperate. The original plan, made on Saturday, was to sleep in Sunday and head over to Fort San Domingo in the afternoon with Uncle Fred. Plans are subject to change, though, and my body just jumped from subject history to biology. There would be no sightseeing today, only a little R&R. Play a little Yahtzee and watch some World Baseball Classic in Chinese. At least that's how I wanted the day to go. Uncle Fred had other plans.

The call from Fred is expected to come around 1230-1 Sunday. So, naturally, he shows up at the hotel around 1030 catching Johnny and I completely off guard.
"Fred, I'm not going out today. I need to rest and recover."
"OK, so we'll just go out for a little bit then."
"Fred, no, I'm not leaving the hotel."
"Come on then, I have an idea. I've been waiting for an excuse to go and this is my opportunity. We'll go get massages. Very relaxing."

Needless to say, we were in the massage parlor about 20 minutes later. We may have jumped the gun a bit because we got there around 11 and the masseuses (masseese? (masseusi?)) don't start work until noon, but we headed to our room, stripped down, and donned kimonos. About an hour later, three young, and very attractive Taiwanese girls walk through the door. They giggle. I nervously giggle along with them. Uncle Fred yaps away in Mandarin and five minutes later they know my whole life story. My lovely masseuse goes to work.

As her palms, fingertips, knuckles, elbows and arms gently kneed, press and roll squeeze the stress from my sinews, I drift off to another world where fevers and stomach aches just don't matter. She works on my neck and back as I lay face up and clearly she has done this before, although I like to pretend she hasn't. I roll over onto my stomach and she begins to layer hot towel upon hot towel, one after another after another, like she is building the great wall of relaxation right there on my spine. Once this cushion of steam has grown large enough, she stands up on the table. Her infinitesimally small feet walk along my body from the tips of my toes all the way up to my neck. Fred was right, this is indeed relaxing. I could get used to this.

Cue the foot guy. I should note that as the foot guy enters the room, Fred begins to describe the experience of the foot massage with a quick anecdote about his Japanese friend who could not stop screaming throughout the massage. So a man of Japanese descent, the group of people who survived the atom bomb and godzilla, screamed throughout his entire experience with the Taiwanese foot man. Great. The foot man goes to work. I'm doing fine the first half, as he uncomfortably digs his knuckles into the little tissue I have on the bottom of my foot, but I focus on my lovely masseuse, who is now working my jaw and eye sockets (it feels a lot better than it sounds). I begin to lose it when he performs a twisting motion on each of my toes that feels and sounds like it came from the Spanish Inquisition. But I survived, and live to tell the tale. I just know never to get the foot massage again.

Not Feeling So Hot

Let's play a game. You all ask a question in unison, like on family feud, and I respond with a boringly clever answer. Ready? Go.

How hot is it?
It's so hot, that in winter, when you turn on the faucet, instead of waiting for the hot water to get hot, you have to wait for the cold water to get cold.

How hot is it?
It's so hot, that the weather reports are saying it is "slightly cold" outside when it's 80 degrees Fahrenheit.

One last time, stick with me here.

How hot is it?
It's so hot, Dave has a fever.

The heat is probably one of the less pungent ingredients, though. Add a cup of jet lag, a tablesoon of stomach pains and a dash of dietary adjustments, stir for 4 days, and you've got a 5 star recipe for feeling like sh*t. Oh and don't forget to wake up on Sunday morning with a black tongue... but don't worry, that's just a side effect from all the pepto bismol you've been taking. What is that!?'
So physically I haven't been feeling 100% but I have been trying to stay positive.

Let's Play Catch Up

Flying and Initial Reactions

It's Monday night and I have other stories half written, but decided I should see this particular blog through to the end. It is boring recapping these things for me, but hopefully interesting for you. Or at least it will answer some of the many questions you may or may not have been wondering about since my departure.

Both flights were fine. The first was actually better than the latter, despite the fact that it was 9 hours longer. If you come to visit, which you probably won't, fly ANA. The food was great, as was the service. Didn't get much sleep though. Johnny and I tried unsuccessfully to sit in Business class on the 2nd flight, but were kicked out soon after sitting down. I believe the line that left my lips after being told to move was, "I didn't know I couldn't do that," a la Dave Chappelle. It would have been nice to get some extra free service and bigger seats, but we were so tired at this point we could have slept anywhere. So, we grudgingly obliged and moved to our original, less comfortable economy class seats. Oh well.

Fred, a good friend of my Aunt and Uncle's who has been helping with this trip all along, met us at the airport and took us back to the hotel. He was flying back to Taiwan from Malaysia and his flight was landing at the same time as ours. He told me that when I exited the airport I should look for an Asian man in a straw hat... he wasn't joking. So I trusted his word, and lo and behold, Fred was the only Asian man in a straw hat in the airport. We headed for the bus station.

The bus traveled through an endless Chinatown and arrived at the hotel around midnight. The number of scooters on the road at midnight was utterly insane. I could only fathom what it would be like during the day. Soon I hope to be a part of that madness. Bright lights and signs in Mandarin. Food being sold on every street corner, from vendors and storefronts alike, and . 7-11s everywhere. Seriously. If you think Starbucks is bad in the states, the number of 7-11s in Taipei is dauntingly outlandish, and kind of awesome at the same time. If the countdown on the crosswalk sign is too long I know I'll have enough time to run in and grab a Slurpee on any corner for about NT$50.

We woke up the next morning around 8, grabbed breakfast and headed out with Uncle Fred. It was a nice easy first day in which Fred had us doing job interviews within the first 12 hours we were in the country, totally unprepared, lacking formal attire and accessories like resumes and pens. But hey, we hit up 4 schools and now know what to expect when we start the job search in the coming days for real, kind of.

Later that night, wandering through a supermarket with Fred I had my first encounter with all those "weird" foods everyone has been asking about. Walking past a steak house style salad buffet Fred turns to me and says something along the lines of free samples late and night. Basically, Fred, like everyone else, enjoys free food and pretends he is not stealing. Works for me. The next line is some along the lines of eat this first, ask what it is after you swallow it. 10 minutes later I am still chewing pigs guts and chicken feet trying not to projectile vomit on some late-night shoppers loafers. Let me tell you, chicken feet look, taste and feel like you would expect them to. Moral of the story? Ask first, then don't eat.

Back To The Future

Where we're going... we don't need roads.
I am in Taipei... and it's tomorrow. The first flight traveled through many a time zone, always chasing the sun, when we very nonchalantly crossed the International Date Line. The conversation between Johnny and I went something like this:

"Dude, we're about to cross the International Date Line."
"It's about to be tomorrow real fast."
"Yea, let's play another game of Yahtzee."

So, we have just finished our first taiwanese breakfast. It was delicious. I had noodles and something else that could have been either fried fruit or meat. I guess I'll never know... The hotel is cozy, very cozy. Johnny and I are sharing a kingsize bed, but no worries. We're probably going to speed up the apartment hunt, though.

More soon...