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."