Classroom antics (and other amusements)

The "Yo-Yo" class began a new unit yesterday, "At the Zoo!"  And as with every new unit there is a new window display.  My intention is not to toot my own horn (except that this is exactly my intention), but I drew this monkey free hand.  Don't act like you're not impressed.

I won't lie and say that I didn't use the monkey design from our storytime book.

And as if to reward me for my amazing artistic abilities there is a field trip scheduled next Tuesday...to the zoo!  I declare it to be the easiest money I will every make in my life.

***

On Friday night I had my level one class, full of rambunctious nine year olds...including one of my favorites, Gary.  I like Gary for reasons two-fold:

1. He has hipster glasses without meaning them to be hipster.
2. No matter what I say to him outside class time I receive the same answer, "My name is Gary."  Without fail.

As I begin every class I asked them what they wanted their team name to be.  Instead of the usual "Team iPad 2" and "Team Angry Birds" this week they were feeling rather creative:

• Team "Good Job!"
• Team Michael Jackson
• Team T.G.I.F.

Note: the third team name came at no prompting by me...and the kid knew what it stood for.  Bonus.

***

The following is a list of what I love about my apartment complex:

• When it's not raining a group of kids can be found playing either stickball or soccer in the center area
• There is a group of old men that sit chewing the fat in my building's lobby on weeknights
• The library hosts a variety of events including meetings, conferences, and dance classes
• Note: I enjoy this when I don't want to use the library's internet access, as I am doing right now
• There is a small "restaurant" on the first floor of my building that serves phenomenal fried rice
• 7-11 is located fifty feet from the lobby of my building
• The all exclusive and eventful trash time (as previously discussed)
• The community ping pong tables where every morning a group of three women play together; one of the women wears a sweatshirt that says "the Smipsons"--complete with a picture of the Simpson family
• Sometimes there is a group that does tae kwon do in the mornings
• Fun Fact: My realtor is a part of this group and came over to say hello to me whilst I was skyping into a South Carolina Thanksgiving, causing much confusion and amusement on the South Carolina side.

My building is on the left.

A quintessential "Dude, Taiwan" story

Saturday evening it was decided that an overnight adventure was deemed necessary.  The location: Juifen.  Situated about forty-five minutes east of Taipei (by train) this seaside town was built on the hills, and full of what I have decided would be classified as 'typical' Asian teahouses.  The hilly construction of the buildings shouldn't have been that impressive to a person familiar with the landscape of San Francisco, but alas--I was awed.


Our arrival was on the later side, but it was a miracle we made our train at all, so I was content with anything.  The town was fifteen minutes up an intimidating hill from the train station, which we traveled by bus.  I use the word 'intimidating' conservatively because I am currently at a loss as to which word would be best to describe said road.  It wasn't quite Lombard Street, but it was in the same category.  The difference between the two roads are threefold:

1. Location: San Francisco vs. Taiwan
   
2. Scenery: trim and landscaped vs. naturally wild
   
3. Laws: limited vehicles vs. any vehicles

The seven of us had spread ourselves about the nearly empty bus--myself choosing to be a 'back-row untouchable' (obviously).  It only took a few minutes for me to realize that this would not be a relaxing, luxurious ride--I had to hold on and try to focus on the scenery that was flying past.  I chose to believe that the bus driver had been driving this road five times a day for the last twenty years, because it made me feel better but in reality I had no idea; he certainly didn't seem to have any reservations about taking the curves at his chosen speed.  The important thing is that we made it to the top of the hill/mountain(?), stopping for a milk tea before heading in the direction of a hotel (obviously our priorities were straight).


During this walk it was realized a wallet had been left on the bus.  Now I'm not going to say that this particular individual can't keep track of anything but in the two months that I've known her a metrocard, a phone (twice) and a wallet (now twice) have been mysteriously misplaced and found under the bed a week later (give or take a few days).  In any case there wasn't much mourning time over the wallet, and the night progressed (before you reach an extreme level of concern I will say that we come back to this issue and the conclusion will make you exclaim, "Dude, Taiwan!").


With our arrival on the later side the shops and most everything was shut down (Saturday night be damned), but even this didn't prevent us from a wander--scoping out places to explore the following morn.

Many photos were taken; many laughs were had; many strange meals were eaten (or attempted, in my case).  The night ended with an interactive viewing of "Paranormal Activity: 2" (one of the few non-Chinese/non-kung fu movies on television)...and by "interactive" I mean full of sarcastic comments, heckling, piecing together of puzzles, etc--just the way scary movies are supposed to be viewed.


But wait!  The suspense of the wallet mystery!  Allow me to put you at ease.  Once it was decided that we would head back toward the hotel we turned our sights upon the gnarly hill we had to conquer (the end point was 7-11, of course).  Halfway up the hill a bus pulled around the corner with the same speed ours had embraced when navigating the curves.  The owner of the missing wallet instinctively put her arm up to wave the driver down--the bus screeched to a halt beside us.  The doors opened and before the question could escape her lips the driver had tossed over the wallet--complete with all the money, cards, and personal items that belonged.  A quick review is necessary before stating the only two words that can be said at times like this:

• it was pitch dark
  
• the bus was the only car on the road
• we were the only people on the road
• the bus was flagged down without the bus number having been checked to see if it was even the same route--let alone the same bus

Two words: Dude.  Taiwan.


It's simply the norm here.  Occurrences such as this have become commonplace.  Dude, Taiwan.


The next morning we awoke to a view we didn't know we had (we had checked in long after dark).

We set out to walk around the winding streets and explore the shops--after breakfast, of course.


The first two adorable teahouses (with amazing views) we stopped in wouldn't begin serving food for another hour--we couldn't/wouldn't wait.  We finally settled on a spot with a balcony, but no view--no matter, the primary goal was food now.  Our party member who spoke Chinese placed our orders and we began to sip our coffee.  Content with life in Asia.


Out of nowhere I felt a hand rub my back and Chinese words were spoken directly into my ear.  Jumping about a foot out of my seat I found an old woman smiling at me (with what teeth she had remaining).  She started firing Chinese at me, ignoring my confused expression and overall white appearance.  There was more patting, confusion, smiling, confusion, speaking, confusion and an almost hug (I wiggled out of the surprise attack).  I turned to the Chinese speaker of the group to find out what was going on.  "She says you look like her granddaughter."  Um, how?  It was extracted (through the babbling) that the alleged granddaughter lives in America--and I'm assuming has at least one Caucasian parent.  The lady went on speaking for quite some time before leaving me to to enjoy my coffee in peace.  The peace was short--for she snuck up on me again with more to say.  Evidently she wished she could talk to me directly and felt the need to voice her frustration to me about this in Chinese (this was told to me via translation, and not by the magical powers of Taiwan that you've been led to expect at any moment).  I was grateful to the Chinese-speaker at the table for not offering to translate for the two of us in full conversation format.


The frustration with language of the old lady led her to sneak in a half-hug (I was too slow to defend myself this time) and she was gone as quickly as she had appeared.  I turned to the two seated at the table, "A little warning, guys.  Just would've been nice."  I guess my long-lost grandmother is a rapid old lady--they both claimed not to have seen her heading over.  I sat on edge for the remainder of the meal.


The morning's explorations were brief before it was time to catch the (terrifying) bus back down the hill/mountain.  Despite the quickness of the trip to Juifen I did find a few Christmas presents--success!  And we vowed to come back and attempt a hike up one of the daunting hill/mountains to reach the gazebo at the top.

There wasn't enough time to handle it this trip--we had to get back to Xizhu.  There was a 'turducken' to eat!


My HNST (head native speaking teacher, for those outside 'the know') and his wife had invited me (and a group) to their Thanksgiving celebration where a 'turducken' would be attempted--in a toaster oven.  I was not about to miss this.  Since there was no shortage of cranberry sauce from our modest dinner on Thursday we decided to supply the 'turducken' with out brilliant leftovers.


This was a Thanksgiving done the right way; all the fixings, three types of pie, two types of biscuits, the biggest plastic plates I've ever seen and a huge bird(s) draped in bacon.  Solid feast.  I gave it my all in the form of eating participation--sparing nothing.  And it's not my fault that I couldn't turn down the leftover apple pie that was forced upon me.  Yes, apple pie--I've got a whole new eating palate here.  The phrase you're searching for is, "Dude, Taiwan."

Thanksgiving in a land without ovens.

Taiwan doesn't believe in ovens.  Taiwan doesn't believe in turkey.  Taiwan doesn't believe in pilgrims. Riddle me this.

Question:  How does one celebrate Thanksgiving in Taiwan?

Answer:  Find the only store in town with cranberries, tweak your apple pie recipe to not include crust and improvise.

Today was the magical day.  My favorite holiday.  Thanksgiving.  We taught the kindergarten kids that in order to honor the day when the Indians shared their favorite recipes with us we eat a lot--we also mentioned gratitude, but that didn't get the same reaction as the food (the watered down version is the best version for the small bilingual children).  To show them the steps for cooking a Thanksgiving meal one has to start at the beginning--the catching of the turkey.  In order to accurately portray this catching my fellow teachers felt that the most beneficial storytelling activity would involve them running around dressed as turkeys, while small children "hunted" them by pelting them with soft balls.  As I had training the last few mornings they didn't realize that I would be there today and thus there weren't enough "costumes" for me to be a turkey (insert sarcastic exclamation here)...I decided I would devote my attention to making sure the children aimed well.

The turkeys have a strategical meeting prior to battle.

A blurry shot of the tail feathers while the turkey runs for cover.

I was finished with work after one class today, thus being able to devote my attentions to the problematic issue of cooking.  Having decided last week that Thanksgiving dinner would be attempted to the best of our abilities we hit the store that has everything--Carrefour; an hour and a really, really heavy bag later we had (almost) all the fixin's.  Back to the kitchen to give Thanksgiving on our own a go.

Note to reader: the most important thing to keep in mind while scrolling through these (delicious) photos is that previously I had never had a more important job than peeling the potatoes for past Thanksgiving dinners.  Not only was today's feast taking place in Taiwan and with minimal resources, but I was one part of a two person team to create said feast.  I think we did damn well.  Enjoy, as we already did.

Our full spread (please notice the extra large bottles of milk tea to complete the meal).

Makeshift stuffing, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce.

Sweet potatoes, cooked carrots and asparagus.

Miniature croissants and squash (filled with butter and brown sugar).

Much as cinnamon was to me in Prague, so squash turned out to be in Taipei...something I never liked until I went abroad.  I wonder if I'll still enjoy squash when I return to the States, or if it's exclusively a Taipei miracle of food.

Cranberry sauce glamor shot (the stuffing snuck into the background).

As you can see we had to make due without some essential Thanksgiving staples; gravy and, oh yeah, the turkey.  But other than that I think we did pretty well for our first Thanksgiving in charge!

Dessert was a bit more tricky; after the hunt for some sort of pie crust (or pie crust substitute) came up short it was decided that the apples would be treated as if they were intended for a pie, and then placed on top of a scoop of ice cream instead.

It turned out to be delectable.

The key for this year's Thanksgiving dinner was the same key to my past few months: embrace the different and taste the new.  Before dinner there was a really quiet moment while the three of us stared at our plates...so aware of how different this holiday meal was.  We decided to go around the table and say what we are grateful for this year:

• Divine safety, comfort and protection wherever I may be
• the ultimate love and support of my family
• the joy I feel when in front of a class...and the amount of fun I have with the kids
• all of the amazing people that I have met since my adventures began in August (in both Taipei and Prague)
• the beautiful addition to my family (whom I can't wait to meet!)
• the friends that I have moved to Taiwan with, and the adventures that we have encountered along the way

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!!

(may yours be as delicious and joyous as mine) 

Quiet! This is a library.

I appreciate that through this (obnoxious) time without having wireless in my apartment that the complex has a quaint little "library" which provides me with a place to check the internet; what I don't appreciate, however, is how social this "library" feels the need to be.  The chairs lined up around the wall of windows are not as inviting as they are intended to be when there is a meeting, dance class, old man exercise class, or function of any kind--as there usually is.  Thus I have been regulated to the lobby of the apartment building next door, creeping out the residents of this building as a loiterer...which, let's face it, has become a specialty I've perfected as of late.  Taiwan has turned me into a habitual loiterer.  I loiter around wireless hot spots, food carts, bookstores (looking for the English section), coffee houses (long after the last of my latte settles comfortably within me), etc.  It's a label that I'm becoming familiar with, letting the strange looks roll right off of me--I pretend they're looking at my hair's (insert sarcastic adjective here) reaction to the humidity.

Here's something about Taiwan that I appreciate: nobody bothers me on the street.  There are constantly people passing out fliers or newspapers and raising awareness, among other things.  They don't even attempt to persuade me to listen...it's wonderful.  The only downfall of this is that I don't get many opportunities to practice one of the few (*cough*five*cough*) Chinese words I know.  "Boo-yow" (or however one would sound it out) means "I don't want that"...I know this because it's what the Yo-Yo toddlers say to me when I attempt to force-feed them their snacks in the morning (as it turns out Asian children are a lot less amused by the "airplane coming in for a landing" in their mouths).  This lack of social interaction on the street, among other places, has led to a spiked increase in the amount I talk to myself while at home alone, but they are rather nice when I am in deep thought while walking (and by deep thought I mean concentrating on not being run-over by a scooter).

On the opposite side of those who rightfully assume I don't speak Chinese are those that speak to me in rapid-fire Chinese despite my confused expression (foreign appearance, foreigner tendencies, English responses, etc.).  The following anecdote took place last week:

The train station had lost power, thus making it impossible to swipe my 'EasyPass' to get onto the platform.  There was a sign explaining what to do in this event, but it was in Chinese (rightfully so...this is Asia).  The station agent was speaking to another woman about how to deal with this situation, and I (honest commuter that I am) tried to listen in instead of attempting to sneak by.  I realized the sillyness of this behavior--the explanation was in the only language you might expect it to be in.  My hesitation in passing through the gate was obvious to a friendly looking older-woman, who turned to me with a smile; pointing at my 'EasyPass' she explained the situation...in Chinese.  Rapid-fire Chinese.  I shrugged my shoulders and smiled apologetically, thanking her (the one phrase I'm confident enough to say with volume).  She smiled and turned away--at least she tried.  I decided to walk through anyway, dealing with the payment at my destination...maybe that ticket agent would be able to interpret my mimes.  While walking up to the station platform the helpful older-woman again turned to me--she was determined to be successful.  Only this time the words flowed from her mouth in perfect English.  "There is a power outage; the station agent at your destination will be able to deduct the appropriate amount."  Well, why the hell didn't she try that to begin with?!  If I spoke Chinese I would've been able to understand what the ticket agent was saying; I wouldn't have needed her help.  Of course I didn't say this to her; thanking her again, I continued up the ramp chuckling to myself.  I guess that I appreciate her giving me the benefit of the doubt that I might just be better off in terms of communicating than I actually am.  Thanks for that, lady.

On a different note, the following photos are works of art that my students created for my personal enjoyment:

Yuki, from my crazy/entertaining Treehouse class, finished her workbook early allowing herself time to draw this lovely portrait of me.  I must say that it was slightly quite accurate to how I looked that day (this accuracy mainly pertaining to the helmet hairstyle).  The likeness has earned Yuki brownie points due to how generous she was regarding my weight...Teacher Lindsay is not so svelt in real-life.

The 'listening comprehension' portion of this homework instructed all of the students to draw a picture of a pig.  I can't be sure that Terry here truly understood the instructions, but I gave him credit anyway for creativity.  The feet do bear a pig-like resemblance.

An apartment complex, bonding through mutual garbage

Five nights a week at 8:15pm a calming instrumental track of traditional Chinese music (or what I assume is traditional Chinese music) plays over the loudspeakers in the halls of my new apartment complex, signifying that it’s garbage time.  The people flow out of their respective buildings (twelve in all) to throw their pink garbage bags into the truck that is parked at the entrance; tonight I was initiated into the neighborhood club as I threw my heavy pink bags into the truck bed, with minimal help from a man in a funny hat.

And now, for the main event: the apartment photos.

I should have gone with a brighter sheet for my suspicious looking futon.

It gets more home-y by the day.

I can play my music again in the mornings!

Please note the baseball on television.  It's always on!  This time it's a Taipei Brothers Elephants game.

Yes, that is "A Room With a View" on top of that book stack.

My makeshift indoor "kitchen", because I don't trust the one on the balcony.  Yes, I have an outdoor kitchen.

The necessities: Hawaiian Punch packets, Scooby-Doo fruit snacks, peanut butter and my new favorite cereal.

Obviously the A's reign supreme on my coat rack.

My "30 Rock" calender is displayed proudly.

I'll bet my coffee table is fancier than yours.

Don't be deceived by the awesome bedding...the mattress is hard as rock.

The most organized my clothes have ever been.  In my life.

And a small shelf for my bathroom/"kitchen" sink.

The bridge below my balcony (taken from the river walk behind my building).

My apartment building is the one on the right; photo taken from the driving range across the river, where I spent a nice Sunday afternoon pretending I knew how to play golf.

And also, my wish has come true: E-Coffee, a block from my apartment building, serves a tasty latte for the same price as 7-11, at NT$55 (US$1.81) and has seating!  It’s not quite the calming atmosphere of Dante Coffee, but I can dig it; still no luck on the Chinese language skills though.  However, I do know how to say, “add egg” which has proven key for my breakfast ordering skills, as evidenced by this tasty rice “burrito” wrapped in a fried egg.  Thank you, Taiwan.

It's Ken Follett's fault.

I apologize for being both lame and lazy on the blog writing front, but every free moment I have obtained as of late has been spent with my nose deep in the pages of Mr. Follett's "Fall of Giants".  I highly recommend it should one find themselves able to finagle time away from lesson planning for an evening.  All excuses aside though, here we go...

Here's what I wish:

• I wish I spoke Chinese
• I wish that the atmosphere of Dantes Coffee would combine with the coffee (and price) of 7-11's lattes, creating the ultimate coffee house...one that I would never leave.

***

Today I  signed the lease on my new apartment!  After the great roommate debacle of Taipei took a turn for the unexpected (they are no longer roommates, but we continue to be buddies) I began to hunt for an apartment where I would live alone.  For the first time in my life.  And in Taiwan.  It took two days of walking the streets of Xizhi (just East of Taipei) with my fellow teachers before I found an apartment within my budget, with a kitchen; as it turns out, a kitchen is a difficult thing to acquire in an apartment here.  The place that I settled on is in the same building (and the floor below) one teacher, and the same complex as another; they've both been roped into showing me how tending house is done in Taiwan.  As I watched the realtor and my head teacher's wife discuss the terms of my lease in Chinese, thus confirming how badly I need to learn the language (lessons are being researched).  I felt much like a member of my Yo-Yo class--adults were talking about me, but I couldn't speak unless spoken to.  So frustrating!  Also, I'm running out of places where I don't have to talk to order food; I'm practically a regular at all the food stands where finger-pointing is both an appropriate strategy, and an acceptable one, to my ordering.

After the papers were signed I headed over to my new apartment(!) to look around and make a list of things to do.  The list is long.  The thing about Taiwan is that it is not the previous renter's responsibility to clean...it is the new renter's responsibility.  I made a list, and headed to the store to gather all of the cleaning supplies I could visibly see were necessary.  I don't know much about cleaning products, but what I do know is not helpful when all product descriptions are in Chinese.  My trip to the store took longer than I had originally hoped.  Only products with the two following qualifications made it to my cart: those that were inexpensive, and those containing a diagram of how they worked.  There is still work to do, but the floors are clean, the furniture dusted and rearranged, and (most importantly) a list has been created for an Ikea adventure.

Thursday is the proposed date for an adventure so big, so wonderful, and so colorful that only the Swedish could provide it...because they were the ones who thought of the mega store...and the fish (they must have their do).  I have an accomplice/very enthusiastic partner in crime for this extravaganza so I must commit myself to not straying from 'the list'.  The all important list, full of actual necessary items and home-y items deemed necessary so that I might soon snuggle up and get cozy in my new digs.  After that, and only after, will pictures of the apartment begin to find themselves on the internet...traveling through cyberspace, back to the U.S. of A.  Be cool.  Be patient.

***

I don't know what protocol is about posting photos of small children in the blogosphere but I can only assume that it's frowned upon.  You'll have to take me at my word when I say that at our Halloween celebration my Yo-Yo class would have taken first prize at a contest for "Cutest Collection of Toddlers".  Utterly adorable.

***

The children's bookstore on the "Magic Street" where I had originally hoped to reside.
My rental proposition was rejected by the owner.  I can only assume she
couldn't read my handwriting.