shu flies (舒飛) :: life in Taiwan

Milk: it does a body goat

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 15:12:00 +0000

One of the coolest things about living in Taipei is looking out for these little boxes:

They are for home deliveries of miniature goats! Ha ha, I'm kidding. They are for home deliveries of cute little glass bottles filled with fresh goat milk. Here are some empties from a satisfied customer:

The company responsible for this adorableness is called the Chianan Goat Milk Cooperative (嘉南羊乳). You can check out their Web site, which introduces the goat breeds they keep. Or you can look at this flier, which is one of my favorite bits of paper ephemera. Someone shoved it into my hand near the Zhongshan MRT station one day and I lovingly taped it into my scrapbook with some polka-dotted MT washi tape:

For a bigger version, click here.

As you can see, there are no less than eight flavors, including two yogurt varieties. Isn't this awesome? I just think it's so cool that in Taipei, a bustling, modern city, milkmen still make their rounds every morning -- just like in 1969 London! Eeeeeeeee!

到處都看得到這些小盒子。好可愛！！！

Restaurants: Sashimiya (三四味屋)

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 13:42:00 +0000

One of my favorite things about my job is that I get to take most of the photos for my stories. I especially love taking loving closeups of the food I eat for restaurant reviews -- or rather, I love taking my time taking loving closeups. As Ron puts it, "Can we eat now? Please?"

The following photos are from Sashimiya (三四味屋) in the East District (東區). For my review, click here.

Taiwan time machine

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 11:00:00 +0000

It looks like the weather is going to be uniformly unpleasant this weekend, so I am going to take this opportunity to post about a really cool indoor activity I wrote about recently (pdf link). You might have noticed Taiwan Storyland's (台灣故事館, táiwān gùshì guǎn) outrageous facade across the street from Taipei Train Station:

Ron and I used to stare at it on our way to various destinations and wonder what the hell it was. As it turns out, Taiwan Storyland is a museum that bills itself as an "historical experience." A 1960s Taipei neighborhood is recreated street-by-street in the basement of KMall, down to the smallest detail (there are sparrows on electric wires and potholes in the road).

The neighborhood chief's living room shows the furniture and accoutrements a prosperous family might have owned.

The police station.

A mailbox

You can peek into living rooms and storefronts, watch old films in a movie theater, play carnival games, buy old-fashioned sweets and toys in a corner store, take a mugshot in the police station or eat shaved ice in a dessert parlor.

Taiwan Storyland was founded by Franky Wu (吳傳治), who has been collecting memorabilia since he was a young boy. Nearly every artifact in Taiwan Storyland is authentic, from childrens' shoes to a Mitsubishi Colt 1000 sports car.

A cart pasted over with fliers. In the top right hand corner you can see a flier for "Oyster Girl (蚵女)," the first Taiwanese film made in color.

A peek inside a vendor's cart that sold beauty products door to door.

Elementary school textbooks.

A cart advertises ice cream with a hand-painted Mickey Mouse.

Taiwan Storyland obviously trades on nostalgia, but its view of history is not completely obscured by rose-tinted glasses. There are constant hints of what life was like under martial law, including this sign posted next to the schoolroom. It admonishes students to speak Mandarin, not Hoklo, Hakka or other dialects, a government policy at the time. Chinese Nationalist Party propaganda is also plastered almost everywhere you look.

Taiwan Storyland has brochures, signs and a Web site in English, but it currently does not offer English-language tours. Most people just wander around by themselves, however, because the minimum group size is 30. I tried to include as many factoids and tidbits as I could from the guided tour in my article and the accompanying sidebar. For more information about Taiwan Storyland, check out Wandering Taiwan's awesome post, in which the blogger, Micki, shares her own childhood recollections. I'm looking forward to bringing my parents there when they fly in next week and asking them how many things in Taiwan Storyland look familiar. I told my Dad that since Taiwan Storyland is a "living museum," he and my Mom should sit in a corner and charge people to look at them. Ha ha hahahahaha! I'm kidding!

我爸爸媽媽其實沒這麼老。。。看起來比我更年輕！！！他們應該會覺得台灣故事館是個非常好玩的地方。。。讓他們懷念他們輕鬆(還沒有我)的年輕時光。(=^;^=)

Little Taroko George

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 12:25:00 +0000

It's been a little more than three weeks since we took in Taroko George and he's growing steadily. Our little kitten has gained about .53 kilograms, a third of his body weight! He's becoming a young tomcat now. The vet says he'll grow up to 5 or 6 kg. Woo-hoo! I love big cats.

Taroko George runs after overhearing the Blythes conspire to put him in a saddle and ride him like a tiny pony.

Taroko George is also very vocal and meows all day long, especially at 7AM in the morning, when he stands outside our bedroom door and demands that we wake up and pay him a tribute of food. We both work in the evenings, so 7AM is very early for us. He then goes insane and orders us to let him into our bed, where he declares war on our comforters and feet. Aside from that, having Taroko George in our lives has really made Ron and me very happy. He's like a little ray of furry, hyperactive sunshine.

I really consider it kismet the way he came into our lives.... and you know what? I think it's all due to the fact I posted about "Papa, Can You Hear Me Sing?" (搭錯車), a film about an abandoned baby and her adoptive father. The next day, we found what we assumed was an abandoned dog, and a few days later we picked up a cat that actually had been abandoned! Gosh, I really should try watching a movie about someone who stumbles upon a lot of abandoned cash next. Anyone have any suggestions?

我們領養了一個小天使。

Plus-size clothing stores in Taipei

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 13:53:00 +0000

Last Saturday, Ron and I attended a fashion show held by the Taiwan Textile Federation (紡拓會). The show featured several Taiwanese women's clothing brands, as well as work done by fashion students. One of the participants was miniMe, a Taipei-based plus-size clothing brand.

miniMe was one of the featured brands in a story I wrote last January about plus-size clothing stores in Taipei (please note that miniMe's East District store has since moved to 34, Ln 51, Daan Rd Sec. 1, Taipei City, 台北市大安路一段51巷34號, (02) 8772-6918). I think that in terms of style, tailoring and marketing, miniMe is one of the more forward thinking plus-size clothing brands in Taiwan. Its name might seem a bit strange to English-speaking ears, but it is a departure from the plus-size brand naming convention in Taiwan. Other stores include the letters "XXL" or the phrase 大尺碼（dàchǐmǎ, plus size) in their names; miniMe's name focuses on how they want their customers to feel in their clothes (trim and pretty). And they use models who are actually plus size and who have a variety of body shapes (in the US, "plus size" models are often only a size 8 and still need to have the standard tall, hourglass figure).

In Taiwan, plus-size generally refers to women who are a US size 12 or above. A lot of mainstream women's clothing stores, like iRoo and Epanouir, carry only two sizes (US size 6 to US size 8 or a very small US size 10). As you can see in my article, there are quite a few chains that cater to plus-size women (as well as at least one shoe brand, Sandy Ho, that markets to women with larger feet), but the selection is still limited.

I often hear from other women expats that they are worried they won't be able to find clothes that fit in Taiwan. Women in Taiwan tend to be smaller than they are in, say, the US, but there is still a large variety of body types and sizes here. Honestly, I don't think it's that hard to find clothes if you are a US size 8 or below, and if you are a size 14 or above there are several chains you can shop at. It's the women who are size 10 or 12 who have a hard time finding things. I was going to write about how growing up in two cultures that value extreme thinness as a marker of beauty and character impacted my body image, but I'll save that for another day. Suffice to say, I think that only you (and perhaps your doctor) can dictate what your size and body shape should be, and everyone should be proud of what they have and work it.

我覺得這些模特兒都很漂亮，尤其是在最上面的小姐。

A Digihari tour of Shida Rd.

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 11:14:00 +0000

I recently took my Digihari camera for a walk around Shida Road. Here are some of my photos:

A lot of generators in Taipei have pretty outdoor scenes painted on them. I've seen a few recently with spring blossoms.

"Thank goodness the world had Harvey Milk."

Mailboxes (the green is for regular mail and the red is for expedited delivery)

Liquid lunch (at least they used a straw!)

Is Taiwan, Is Chocolate... it is, indeed!

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 12:31:00 +0000

A couple weeks ago, I wrote a story (PDF link) about a combination chocolate store and cafe near Shida called Is Taiwan, Is Chocolate. They specialize in handmade chocolates by Henry & Cary, a Taipei-based brand.

Is Taiwan, Is Chocolate also carries a variety of other carefully selected items, ranging from fruit vinegar to handmade silk wraparound trousers, all of which are handmade in Taiwan.

My favorite flavors are the matcha tea, rose and lavender truffles.

For more information, please check out my article.

In non-sugar news, I had a busy day today. We took Taroko George to the vet (where he heard him hiss and growl for the first time) and bought some more kitty supplies. Then I mailed some invitations and headed over to Jazz Professional Image Lab on Bade Rd. to get a couple of our wedding photos blown up into posters for our banquet in a couple weeks. For some reason, I assumed that there was a standard wedding banquet vanity poster size, so that was what I asked for. Turns out there is no such thing! The things you learn every day.

Then I had a visit from our downstairs Crazy Neighbor Lady (doesn't everyone have one?). The floorboards in our apartment building are old, thin and crickety, and whenever Ron or I move around, they make noise no matter how quiet we try to be. For the past two years, CNL has been leaving annoying, exclamation point laden notes and banging on our doorbell in the morning before she drives off to work. But the notes stopped several months ago and this was the first time she'd complained in a while -- and in person (the previous doorbell banging was just for harassment purposes, because that's how crazy people roll).

You know how people who seem positively rabid through letters or e-mail usually become a little bit more normal once you meet them in real life? Well, CNL was just like my imagination -- googly eyes, unkempt hair, bared teeth, wild hand gestures, in her pajamas at 7PM. To be fair, I could tell she was trying to be polite, but it was clear someone's cheese has slid off her cracker. I respect her need for quiet and we'll continue trying to be as noiseless as possible, but, damn. I think she needs some chocolate.

巧克力是我的朋友。但是，我好喜歡把巧克力給殺。再見，巧克力！你太好吃！

Just a photo: Rear view

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 11:24:00 +0000

A rear view mirror shot on Fuji Instax film

I am going to cheat and just do a picture post today because I am very tired! I just came back from watching "This is It" in Ximending with friends. We went to Snow King (雪王) afterward, where I had pork floss (肉鬆，dried shredded pork) ice cream that tasted just like pork floss. My taste buds were extremely confused.

I hear our kitten in the other room doing something unspeakable to a plastic bag, so I have to go check on him. Ron found one of my Blythe dolls on the rug this morning. Apparently Taroko George had knocked her off her perch on the piano (our landlord's), dragged her several feet and then attempted to ravage her hair. She's my Kozy Kape, too (other Blythe lovers will know how HORRIBLE that was for me)! Bad cat!

Camera Obscura, Oct. 25, 2008 at The Wall

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 07:56:00 +0000

This entry is one for the "I totally cannot believe I did not blog about this when it actually happened!" files. A year ago, Camera Obscura, one of my favoritest bands in the wholest, widest world, came to play at The Wall (這牆), a indie music venue near National Taiwan University. I cannot tell you how amazing this was for me.

The period of time before I left New York City was bittersweet. I was looking forward to moving to Taipei, reuniting with Ron and studying Mandarin, but it was hard to leave the city that had been the locus of all my dreams and goals since I was a teenager. Even before I finally got on that plane headed westward, I started to miss my friends, my routines and the streetscapes that had been my life since graduating from college.

Around the same time, Camera Obscura's album "Let's Get Out of This Country" came out. A lot of the songs really spoke to how I was feeling and I put the album on repeat during my hour-long commute each way to work. They performed in New York City before I left, but I didn't have time to go (and even if I did, I wouldn't have had the money). When I heard they were performing just down Roosevelt Rd. from where I live, my head nearly exploded. I didn't even know Camera Obscura had a following in Taiwan (though in hindsight, it isn't surprising that their music appeals to indie rock/pop lovers here). The Wall wasn't jam-packed, but the turnout was good and you can tell that everyone there was really passionate about what they were listening to.

My two favorite songs back in 2007 were (fittingly enough) "Let's Get Out of This Country"...

...and "Razzle Dazzle Rose" (here they are performing the song in Taipei):

For more about this awesome band, read my colleague David's interview with its lead singer.

Another reason why I refer to myself as Taiwanese-American

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 01:48:00 +0000

As I said in my entry yesterday, in college I made a very deliberate decision to refer to myself as Taiwanese-American almost exclusively (as opposed to Chinese-American, which is also accurate when used to describe part of my cultural and ethnic heritage). I did so because it was then that I realized that even educated people who read newspapers (or say they do) don't know that Taiwan is an independent country with a distinct culture of its own. These are two truths that I hold very dear to my heart (and the latter is why I love being a features reporter in this country. It truly has a vibrant and dynamic culture, and I adore interviewing indie designers and artists).

The second--and equally important reason--was that conversations with certain of my classmates made me realize that many people see Asian-Americans as one, big homogeneous blob. They think we all live in California, are middle class, spend all our days taking piano lessons and cramming at Kumon, etc. In other words, when many people think of Asian Americans, they think of the demographic that produced the so-called "model minority".

They don't understand that not all Asian immigrants arrived at the same time and that not all are economically prosperous. Assuming that Asian Americans are all alike and not made of distinct demographic groups trivializes the very real struggles that some of these groups face (for more about why this "model minority" stereotype and its implications are harmful, read Frank Wu's "Yellow: Race in America Beyond Black and White.")

And within each demographic group are further layers of complexity. Take Chinese Americans, for instance. As Iris Chang made clear in "The Chinese in America," Chinese immigrants arrived in the United States in three waves, each of which were very distinct from one another. The first were the estimated 100,000 Chinese laborers who arrived in the US during the Gold Rush. The second wave was composed of refugees fleeing the 1949 Communist Revolution; many of them came with advanced academic degrees and were able to build a middle class life for themselves in the US (these were the people who had the label "model minority" attached to them). The third wave immigrated to the US from China in the 1980s and 1990s and, as Chang writes, "this large wave encompassed Chinese of all socio-economic groups and backgrounds."

I think people also tend to view all Taiwanese-Americans as being alike (maybe because Taiwan is a small country to begin with). But I know that even within the Taiwanese-American community, there are distinct differences in ethnicity, culture, education, religion, political beliefs and languages spoken. Taiwanese-Americans include people, like me, who were born in the States, people like my parents who immigrated over as young adults, and people who immigrated in middle age or older. Some Taiwanese-Americans live exclusively in the US; others fly back and forth between the US and Taiwan and see both as their home base. Some see themselves as part of the Chinese diaspora, others do not. Some households speak Mandarin, some speak Hakka, others speak Hoklo, others speak English (and many speak a mixture of the above). There are many different ways that Taiwanese-Americans define themselves, and we certainly do not all think alike. This is something that I've begun to appreciate more and more as a US-born Taiwanese-American living in Taiwan.

The culture of cute... spreads

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 00:47:00 +0000

One thing any long time resident of this country will notice is that Taiwanese popular culture is just saturated in cuteness. Calling an adult "可愛" (kě'ài) does not have same patronizing overtones it would have in the United States (though I wouldn't use the term to compliment your boss!). Cuteness permeates fashion, design, music... even anti-needle sharing public service announcements:

(These were taken underneath Taipei Main Station about a year ago or so. I don't know if they are still up. Call me cynical, but I get the feeling they weren't very effective!)

可愛？？？可怕！！！

From My Inbox: Who or what am I?

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 06:08:00 +0000

When I opened my theflyingshu e-mail account, I said that I might publish and answer e-mails on this blog that ask questions I frequently receive. Most are about learning Mandarin and being a newcomer to Taiwan. A recent letter writer, however, took issue with how another blogger and I refer to ourselves and our ethnic backgrounds on our sites. (I'm removing both their names from this post, as I said I would with e-mails. ETA: Michella, the blogger, said it's OK to put her name here, so I'm including it and a link to her site. Read more of her intelligent and nuanced thoughts on this issue here and in this bilingual post. The original letter writer, Tim Maddog, also requested that I add his response).

I felt I should address this on my blog because it is a topic I have encountered several times in conversations with different people. I don’t know this letter writer’s ethnic background (he writes behind a pseudonym), but in my experience most people who have a quibble with how I refer to my cultural and ethnic heritage (and the ones who are the most critical and try to politicize the issue, as I have good reason to believe this letter writer is doing) are not of Taiwanese descent, something I address at the end of this entry.

***

From the inbox:

Hi Catherine,

I noticed your comments on Michella's blog recently, and somebody else linked to one of your posts today, which reminded me...

I had looked at your profile page earlier because I wondered what Michella meant when she said that one thing you two had in common was being "Chinese-American." [This is wrong. Michella did NOT refer to both of us as "Chinese-American" in her comment, just herself, which is why I did not feel entitled to comment on that statement. You can see her original comment here. The only thing she said we had in common was that we grew up in the same area.] That struck both me and a fellow blogger as, er, not-so-accurate. On your profile page, it says:
- - -
A Taiwanese-American ink-stained wretch living and working on the yam-shaped island. 各位好！我是台灣最討厭的美國華裔！
- - -

Two out of three ain't bad, but as a "Taiwanese-American," don't you think "台僑" would be a better term? After all, the word "僑" refers to nationality, not ethnicity. Along with words like "大陸," "國語," "閩南語," "光復," and "台灣省," "華僑" is used quite commonly, but I still think those are all incorrect words for a Taiwanese to use.

Just sayin',
Tim M.

My reply:

Hi Tim,

If you have a problem with how Michella refers to herself, you should bring it up with her, not me. I don't know what her background is specifically, so I can't speak to how she refers to herself (and even if I did, I'd let her speak for herself instead of talking behind her back).

I can speak, however, to your comments about my profile, which include several errors. For one thing, it appears that you don't know enough about my background to decide what I should call myself (assuming that you even have the right to do so). I also think you may have misread a character.

From your e-mail, it seems that you mistook 裔 (yì) for 僑 (qiáo) and thought that I wrote 華僑 (which I never use to refer to myself) on my profile. 台僑 (qiáo) is also inaccurate in my case, because, as you noted, 僑 is used to refer to nationality. I am not of Taiwanese nationality. I was born in the United States and am of US nationality (a fact that I make very clear on my blog), so I am a 美僑. In my case, 華裔 (the term used on my Blogger profile) is more accurate than 台僑 because 裔 is used to refer to descent. 華裔 is used to refer to people of Chinese ethnicity, no matter how many generations (or countries) they are removed from China.

This is a distinction I've been taught by Taiwanese people of different cultural, political and educational backgrounds, and it is how they universally refer to me. Since that Chinese sentence in my profile was written for the benefit of my Taiwanese readers, I included that wording out of deference to them, as its meaning would be clear to them.

In college, I made a decision to always refer to myself as Taiwanese-American in English. I realized then that not all people know that Taiwan is a country, or that it even exists, and that the issue was further complicated by the fact that the English language uses "Chinese" to refer to nationality, culture and ethnicity. But I also identify with the terms 華裔 and Chinese-American when either are used to describe my ethnicity or that particular aspect of my cultural heritage. If I were not of Chinese descent, I would certainly not hesitate to correct people, but since I am, I see no reason to hide that fact behind words. And it does not say anything about my political beliefs or the depth of my allegiance to my Taiwanese heritage and this country's independence.

It is also Michella's right to decide how she refers to herself. It is not your call -- or anyone else's -- to decide that "those are all incorrect words for a Taiwanese to use." It is extremely condescending to dictate how a Taiwanese person (or any person) should refer to or talk about themselves, especially considering the multidimensional cultural and ethnic backgrounds of Taiwanese people, and the fact that so many of them have been persecuted in recent history for those very ties.

The right to decide how you self-identify is a fundamental one, and a cornerstone of democracy. It is one thing to quibble with the terms that political parties and the government use, but it is patronizing and, it has to be said, veers dangerously close to cultural imperialism to dictate how individuals should refer to themselves or speak about their ethnic backgrounds.

Catherine

ETA at the letter writer's request: His Response

Catherine,

Thanks for your reply. I did mistake 裔 (yì) for 僑 (qiáo). That was my bad.

You wrote in your reply:
- - -
If you have a problem with how Michella refers to herself [...]

[...] you don't know enough about my background to decide what I should call myself [...]
- - -

It was a *question* for you related to Michella's characterization of both of you as "Chinese-American" -- especially since I noticed that you referred to yourself as *Taiwanese*-American. I couldn't very well take that up with *her*, could I?

As far as "decid[ing] what [you] should call [your]self," I asked, "Don't you think...?" That was my opinion inserted into a question -- not a decision, a demand, or whatever else you may have mistaken it for.

You added:
- - -
[...] a distinction I've been taught by Taiwanese people of different cultural, political and educational backgrounds [...]
- - -

You may hear "Taiwanese people of different cultural, political and educational backgrounds" using the word "mainland (大陸)" to refer to China, but that doesn't mean it's "correct." That would be kind of like saying it's "correct" to call the Navajo people "Indians" because some of them may refer to themselves in that manner.

Your reading of my opinions as being "dangerously close to cultural imperialism" is laughable in light of the fact that the CCP and the KMT want to make *all* Taiwanese Chinese. Do you remember this?:
http://taiwanmatters.blogspot.com/2009/03/more-ethnic-divisiveness-from-kmt.html
- - -
Hang onto your lower jaw as you read this article in today's Taipei Times about the founder of the Fo Kuang Shan monastery, Hsing Yun (星雲): Taiwan Buddhist master: 'No Taiwanese'. Here are his disgusting words:

During a press conference at the forum on Friday in Wuxi, Jiangsu Province [China], Hsing Yun said that "both sides of the Taiwan Strait belong to one family. There are no Taiwanese in Taiwan and Taiwanese are all Chinese."

ETA: My Response to His Response

I think whenever anyone (whether or not they are a politician, political blogger, or person on the street) tries to politicize the personal and corner someone into participating in identity politics against their will, it does veer dangerously close to cultural imperialism. It is not laughable because it is no laughing matter. You may have sent me an "opinion inserted into a question," but I thought the tone of your e-mail was extremely condescending, an impression that was reinforced by the fact you asked me to comment on someone's personal life and decisions behind her back.

Thank you for acknowledging your mistake.

Also, I hoped that I've made clear that someone can be both Taiwanese-American and Chinese-American. The two are certainly not mutually exclusive. Like I said, if you believe Michella's decision to use the latter term is inaccurate, you need to bring it up with her, not me.

As I stated at the beginning of this entry, most people who have a problem with how I refer to my ethnic and cultural identity, and who politicize my choices, are people who are not of Taiwanese descent. Most Taiwanese people and Taiwanese-American people, on the other hand, don't care how I refer to myself -- and if they do, they aren't condescending about it. (Once again, I do not know the letter writer's background. I am not talking about him specifically, I am talking about a trend I've noticed in my personal life).

My hypothesis is that this is because a lot of us have family who suffered greatly because of political upheaval in China and Taiwan. Our relatives were forced to watch as their loved ones were attacked, raped or killed by Japanese soldiers, only to then be forced to flee from China a few years later, leaving behind family members who were often tortured or killed.

Many of us also have relatives who suffered extreme oppression during the White Terror in Taiwan. They were forced by the government to divorce themselves from aspects of their Taiwanese identity (including the choice to speak what language they wanted) -- in short, to deny who they are, or risk persecution and even death.

Because of this, many of them learned that getting along with one another, regardless of differences in ethnic and political background or what the government was trying to force you to do to one another, was of paramount importance -- not what you choose to call yourself. Living together peacefully was also one way to move past the horrors they had witnessed and survive.

But trauma leaves a lifelong mark. Watching people you love suffer has an immeasurable impact, even if you are incapable of understanding what exactly is hurting them. (After all, how can anyone ever understand the unspeakable?) There is a term for the effect this has on descendants: intergenerational transmission of trauma.

Witnessing their silent grief teaches you how valuable cultural, ethnic and national ties are, especially if you have been persecuted because of them, and how meaningful it is to cling to all aspects of your identity, even if it is an identity so multi-dimensional that certain people can't grasp or understand all of its nuances… and even if you upset some individuals in a politically-charged climate.

Most Taiwanese-Americans I know were constantly reminded as children that we are extremely lucky to live in a country where we have so many choices: where to go to school, who to vote for, how we refer to ourselves. We can do so many things, and no one has the right to hurt us because of our decisions. And with this freedom comes a responsibility -- the responsibility to respect other people's personal decisions, even if you disagree with them.

For the most part, I refer to myself as Taiwanese-American because that is my parents' former nationality and the aspect of my multi-layered cultural heritage I identify most strongly with (though I am first and foremost an American). If I refer to myself as Chinese-American, I am (as I said in my response) referring to my ethnicity and a specific part of my cultural heritage (you know, the part that was forced to dress up in a hanfu and yarn wig when I was 8).

As upset as I often am at the Chinese government and as fiercely as I support Taiwanese independence, I will never disavow the part of my identity that is Chinese, because to do so would be to spit on the graves of my family members who suffered many of the deprivations I described above (and, polyester hanfus aside, there are a lot of cool things about Chinese culture). But at the same time, I will continue to call myself Taiwanese-American, to acknowledge what my other family members have been through, because I adore this country and its culture, and because I want everyone to know that.

(And you know what? Happy tidings to anyone who tries to tell me to do otherwise, because this is one situation in which they will always be in the wrong.)

當人家問我"妳到底是什麼人? 台僑？華僑？” 我真想回答 “要你管！你以為你是誰？” 我明明是個美僑！也算是一個華裔。。。也算是一個台裔。

ETA: Other posts in this series will answer questions I've received about life in Taiwan. If you've sent me a question recently and I have not yet responded, I'm sorry! I'll get on it as soon as I can.

The textures of Yongkang St. (永康街)

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 01:30:00 +0000

When I'm walking about, I like to keep my eyes out for interesting patterns and textures... and the occasional line or two of roadside poetry.

"Leonardo da Vinci saw trees, towns, battles and a lot of other things in the stains he found on old walls..."

"...Not everyone sees pictures in the fire, or in the clouds, and of those who do, not all see the same thing. It depends on what they are looking at, and on who is doing the looking..."

"...The double images may either be obvious or concealed..."

"... the second image works on the subconscious and may well have a more lasting effect, for it seems to the viewer to be a private acquisition, a personal discovery that he has made inside or beyond what was obvious to everyone else." -- Bruno Munari

I really love living in this country. To be honest, when I first moved here from the US, I came with a great deal of ambivalence for various reasons. I also missed having a daily routine and having to be so hyper-conscious of everything I said or did because of the language and cultural barriers.

But after two years, I've settled in, and one of the things I love most about my daily life in Taipei is seeking out the beauty in the ordinary. Taiwan is famous for its flamboyantly beautiful natural scenery and gorgeous temples, but the little cracks and flaws in Taipei's urban landscape and the stories they tell are what I hold dear to my heart. (Though if I fell into a hole in the road, I'd be pretty damn angry... there's a difference between little cracks and poorly tended infrastructure!)

你可以從牆壁上的裂縫找出一些靈感。（不要笑我！！！）

Candy! Sweet, sweet caaaaaandy!

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 00:58:00 +0000

One thing that all my family members know about me is that I take my candy extremely seriously. A few months ago, I profiled two places (PDF link) in Taipei that are also very earnest about their 糖果 (it's always nice to meet people who have their priorities in order!). They are this city's branch of Papabubble and VVG Bon Bon.

Papabubble

The pink candy says 囍, or double happiness, and the purple ones say 謝謝, or thank you

Papabubble Taiwan has a very interesting back story. Owner Ann Lin (林怡蕙) first met the founders of the Papabubble candy brand when she was a university student in Melbourne. A decade later, she was contemplating a career change when she stumbled upon news of her old friends, who had moved to Spain.

After corresponding with them for a year, Ann and her sister flew out to Barcelona to learn candy-making techniques and, upon their return, opened their own Papabubble store off Renai Rd. The candy is made with all-natural flavors, so they actually taste like the fruit they are supposed to represent. My favorites are the blackcurrant pillow candy that is stuffed with chocolate and the passionfruit hard candy. The store has a generous sampling policy and you can watch staff members make candy every day (call ahead to confirm times).

VVG Bon Bon

VVG Bon Bon is part of the VVG restaurant chain and was created as a fantasy land for sugar lovers. The highlight of the menu is dainty little cupcakes (they are made smaller and "purer" in texture than US cupcakes to cater to Taiwanese tastes). Candy imported from around the world is sold by weight, and other treats include macarons, homemade jams and jellies, dried fruit and chocolate. The interior looks like a miniature versions of Versailles, with a giant mirror, kitsch/rococco decor and lots of pink! Every person I saw there had a camera in tow.

Check out my article (link above) for address info. I'll be posting about another candy store soon, so make sure to hit the gym and keep tuned in!

我好愛吃糖果！我是個"糖果狂"！

Everyday mysteries

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 02:33:00 +0000

A few months ago, I stumbled upon some old photos at a secondhand store in Taipei. It made me sad to think of peoples' family memories collecting dust on a shelf (I'm weird and sentimental like that), so I bought them. Here are a few of my favorites:

Behold! My soulmate!

I wonder who these people are, what their lives were like, and how their photos ended up in a thrift store. Most of these were probably taken in the late 1960s or 1970s (I bet my relatives who read this blog are thinking "what the heck do you mean by 'old photos'!?!?!" Don't kill me!). If you want to see more pictures of everyday people doing everyday things in the Taiwan of the recent past, check out photos posted by fans on the blog for TV series 光陰的故事 (The Story of Time). (The show revolves around several families living in a village near Taipei during the 1970s and early 1980s; part of CTV's marketing campaign was asking viewers to submit family pictures, which were aired before commercial breaks.)

我覺得這些老照片都非常有趣。我對他們裡面人的故事很好奇！

A blogging pet peeve

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 13:02:00 +0000

You know what annoys the crap out of me? People who meet a group of annoying individuals (or one obnoxious individual) and instead of just saying "boy, were they annoying" decide to blame culture. Like "I've met some really shallow chicks here who read nothing but fashion magazines and think about their appearance. Boy, are Taiwanese women shallow! Their culture really emphasizes being weak and shallow!" or "This guy made personal remarks about my appearance! Taiwanese men are so rude and sexist! Taiwanese culture is misogynist!"

I'm not naming names, but I've read a lot of blog posts like that by other expats since I arrived in Taiwan. As a person of Taiwanese descent with Taiwanese family, I find these association fallacies offensive and disheartening on a very personal level. As an expatriate, it just makes me want to bang my head over and over again against the edge of my desk.

For all its rewards, being an expat can be an extremely frustrating experience and I'm guilty of thinking many thoughts that start with the phrase "Taiwanese people/culture are so..." I also hear myself thinking things that begin with "white people in Taiwan are so..." or "other hua yi in Taiwan are so..." But I do my best not to cement my momentary frustrations and vapidity by slapping them on the Internet. There are some really great blogs out there (a small handful are on my links list to the right), but there is still a dearth of English-language writing on the Internet about Taiwan. You might think you are just keeping a little travelogue for your family and friends, but what you write really does leave an impression on the Web. Shu Flies is not widely read by any means, but I know that it pops up early in certain search results. I don't want anyone stumbling upon my blog and leaving with an erroneous impression of Taiwanese culture -- and people -- just because I had a bad day and needed to vent. I don't always succeed in this, but I am always conscious of it (and I also keep a personal diary to let off steam).

I am not saying that any culture is entirely free from faults, or that cultural relativism should be practiced to the point where things like institutionalized misogyny or racism are excused. What I am saying, however, is that if you are going to criticize a culture's shortcomings, back your thesis up with real research and data. Don't back it up with a handful of experiences you had due to your bad luck with friends or acquaintances.

Meet some new people!

Little Green Green, Big Dreams: A peek inside Taipei First Girls' High School (北一女)

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 01:55:00 +0000

A few days ago, I got to take a look inside my mother's alma mater, Taipei First Girls' (北一女, běiyīnǚ) while preparing an article for the northern California alumni association's yearbook. Beiyinu is one of the most famous girls' high schools in Taiwan.

My Mom had suggested that I take a photo in front of the school gates with a couple students. I told her that I didn't think the students would want to take a photo with me. She said, "Of course they will! Beiyinu students aren't scaredy-cats!" I replied that it wasn't about them being scared of me, but of me being scared of them! Seriously! Those green-shirted girls are intense.

But I dutifully headed over to the school, which is right next to the Presidential Office Building (總統府), with my camera in tow. I asked the security guard if I could take a few photos of the campus, and before I knew it, the director of alumni activities, Ms. Liu, was giving me the grand tour.

Taiwanese students face an infamous amount of pressure because the path their education takes is largely dictated by just two exams. Beiyinu students have obviously already passed the first hurtle (the 聯考, liánkǎo, or high school entrance exam) with flying colors, but they spend their third and fourth years gearing up for their university entrance exam.

Because of that, I expected the atmosphere in Beiyinu to be extremely tense. I found the opposite to be true. Granted, I only spent an hour there and didn't look into any of the classrooms (Ms. Liu didn't want to bother the students), but I found a place where adults speak to and joke with students like equals, and students in turn are proud to show off their school to visitors. An art class was dispersed throughout the campus, taking advantage of the nice weather to work on their watercolors outdoors.

Quite a bit has changed since my Mom was a student. School rules were a lot stricter back in the 1970s. For example, students had to wear their skirts below the knee, their socks folded a certain way and their hair cut to just below ear-length. Students are allowed a lot more leeway in how they dress now -- they can wear skirts or trousers, decorate their schoolbags with pins and embroidery and choose their own hairstyles. Most of the rooms and buildings, however, are exactly as they were back when my Mom and her friends were teenagers, so I really got a peek of Beiyinu through their eyes. Here's an excerpt from my essay:

Learning about 北一女：一位美國華裔的經驗

About two years ago, I moved to Taiwan and started a Mandarin course at 師大. One day, our class started talking about Taiwan’s best high schools. One of the students, another Taiwanese American, said that the only girl’s high school in Taipei she had heard of was 北一女.

“Yes, of course,” my teacher said. “北一女 is the best girl’s high school in Taiwan, and the most famous.”

“Hey, that’s where my Mom went!” I started to say… but then I stopped.

I knew my Mom had been a very good student and that she’d gone to a famous high school. She often attends reunions and other alumni activities because many of her old classmates live in northern California, too. But at that moment in my Chinese class, I realized that I didn’t actually know the name of my mother’s high school, in Chinese or even in English. Come to think of it, I didn’t know where my Dad had gone to high school, either.

I felt very silly and embarrassed. How could the daughter of two smart parents not know the name of their high schools?

The head librarian demonstrates the cool wheely bookshelves in the Beiyinu library.

After that conversation in Chinese class, I realized how little I knew of my parents’ lives as teenagers in Taiwan. I wondered how similar and how different their high school careers had been to mine. I became determined to learn more about their schools – in particular, 北一女.

I did some research on the Internet and quickly found out that the young women I had seen walking in pine green shirts and black skirts in the Zhongzheng District were my mother’s school sisters. In fact, I often passed by 北一女 on the 235 bus as I headed over to Ximending.

My mom told me that all middle school students in Taiwan have to pass a test called the 聯考 to get into high school, and a school like 北一女 is reserved for the girls with the highest scores. Every student only has one chance each year to score well on their 聯考. If they are too nervous or get sick on the day of the test and do poorly, they have to wait an entire year before they get a second chance. This is very different from America's education system. When I was in high school, I was very stressed out before my SAT – but I knew I could take it again if I was not happy with my score and it was not the only deciding factor in the direction my education took. My high school is one of the top high schools in the United States, but I didn't have to compete to get in. All I needed was to live in the neighborhood.

Because education is greatly valued in Taiwanese society, I quickly found out about the special place that 北一女 holds in Taiwanese culture. 北一女 students refer to themselves as 小草 [little grass], but there is another well-known nickname for them: 小綠綠 [little green green]! One of my friends said, “小綠綠 are very famous in Taiwan!”

Photo from EpochTimes.com

Another clue to the importance of 北一女 in Taiwan’s culture came while I was watching 光陰的故事 [The Story of Time]. One of the main characters, 汪茜茜 (Wang Chianchian), is a 北一女 student. The other characters don’t have to describe how hard-working and intelligent 汪茜茜 is – her pine green shirt is enough to let audiences know that about her.

I even see 小綠綠 in the most unexpected places. One day I was looking at photos by Taiwanese fans of Blythe dolls – and I saw a Blythe doll wearing a miniature 北一女 uniform and book bag her owner had sewn!

Posing with first year students.

My husband once asked me if I ever think about what my life would have been like if I had been born and raised in Taiwan instead of the United States. Of course, I think about it often! I love being an American and I am very lucky to be able to call several cultures my own. But every time I see 北一女 students in their pine green shirts, I want to run up to them and say “my Mom is your 學姐, so that means we are kind of related, too!” Of course, that would only scare them away, but I continue to be curious about the lives of 北一女 students; not only did they go to the same school as my Mom, but in a parallel universe, 北一女 might have been my school and I might have worn the same uniform.

我在美國出生長大, 所以我沒機會在北一女念書。
我的中文並不是很流利，而且我的數學一直都很差!
可是我覺得自己還算是個小草，因為我的媽媽，其中一個小綠綠，就如同她的校友們在無形中將北一女的價值觀與生活態度傳承給她們的子女!

Come in proud, and love out loud!

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 06:59:00 +0000

Taiwan's annual Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered (LGBT) Pride Parade was yesterday afternoon. I was sick from an allergic reaction, but managed to make it to the rally at the end of the march. It was already 5PM (the parade started assembling at 1PM), but there were still a lot of people left. I missed the performances (including one by Mandopop star Fish Leong (梁靜茹)), but heard some rousing speeches and ran into some friends.

I felt that it was extremely important for me to lend my support in light of the anti-gay protest in Taipei last week, which was sponsored by Christians who should be ashamed to call themselves Christian. (You know what? I think that religion can be a wonderful conduit for a great deal of good, and it is a tragedy that misguided people use it instead as vehicle for their own xenophobia.) As an American (and a Californian), I also felt it was my duty to go in light of the passing of Prop. 8 last year, which shocked and disappointed everyone in my immediate family.

An estimated 25,000 people attended this year's LGBT Pride Parade (which is the largest of its kind in Asia), up from 18,000 last year. This year's theme was "Love Out Loud." From the event's wonderful and very moving mission statement:

We expect respectful treatment of all selves and others. We will keep communicating with all members of society despite our harsh situation. This is the time to conquer discrimination with power of love. Come in proud, and love out loud!

For better photos and links to more information, check out David on Formosa's post or the Taiwan LGBT Pride Web site.

我要支持我的同志朋友，跟他們“一齊把愛大聲喊出來”！

Red House Market for Artists & Designers

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 16:00:00 +0000

If the weather in Taipei is as lovely this weekend as it has been for the past few days, consider checking out the Red House Market for Artists & Designers (西門紅樓創意市集). About a month ago, I wrote mini-profiles (PDF link) of some of the market's regular vendors. There is a wide selection of handmade items, running the gamut from soap to wooden hairsticks to sterling silver jewelry. Many of the craftspeople are art students or graphic designers who have launched their own brands in their spare time, and only sell at the market or online. The market's blog posts updated information about vendors and special events each week. Click here for more of my market photos on Flickr.

Picobaby sells figures and jewelry made out of bits and pieces from computers and other electronics. Taiwan is well-known for its original equipment manufacturers (OEM), so Picobaby's designer certainly has a lot of materials to work with!

Rgrnin has some of the most original jewelry at the market. Pendants are made from old silverware, rings from buttons found in Thai flea markets and bracelets from belt buckles.

EZ Studio was founded by two graphic designers, who use wood-burning techniques to make their whimsical (and silly) pendants and keychains.

Crafters Bu Gulu and Wuer usually share a stall. Bu Gulu specializes in stuffed owls made from Japanese fabric and Wuer makes soft, handwoven slippers.

US wire wrapping studio is a regular at the market; their stall is usually at or near the entrance. You can get your name bent into wire and made into a keychain or pin. They also have small sculptures for sale, including ferris wheels and motorcycles.

A surreal (but cute) t-shirt by I Am Party. The designer is an art student who explores the relationship between animals, the environment and humans in his work.

I adore Jos Design's hair sticks. They are handcarved from hardwood (including fragrant blue sandalwood) and feature motifs inspired by traditional Chinese fine and decorative arts.

不要買大品牌！支持這些設計師跟藝術家。他們的創作又漂亮又划算。

Get your creep on

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 05:26:00 +0000

"They're all gonna laugh at you... they're all gonna laugh at you... "

Need a Halloween costume in a hurry? Then check out my article on "costume row" in Ximending (PDF link or Web site). There is a row of very well-stocked costume rental shops and dance wear stores on Hanzhong St (漢中街) between Chengdu Road (成都路) and Zhangsha Street (長沙街). To get there, get off at the Ximending MRT stop, walk out of exit 1 and make a left. I also included information on Ben Nye Taiwan (花莉), which has a huge selection of stage and special effects make up. The manager is fluent in English, too.

If you want to go the DIY route, check out my articles on the neighborhood of craft stores behind Taipei Main Station (pdf link) and Yongle Fabric Market (which is within walking distance of the station, too).

As for my costume... I'm just going to throw together a few pieces from my own closet. Yes, my dress sense is weird enough to support that. It's gotten every weirder since I moved to Taiwan and learned that ruffles, pleating, rhinestones, lace, pouffy sleeves, shoulder straps that tie in jaunty bows and a double-layered tulle crinoline are all OK for grown ups to wear on a daily basis -- in the same outfit! Muhahaha!

"I will name him George, and I will hug him and pet him and squeeze him..."

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 08:47:00 +0000

It's been about a week and a half since Taroko George came into our lives and he's gotten healthier, sleeker and plumper. When he is not playing with his crazy circle or mistaking his litter box for a play pen (why, oh why, do they do that?), Taroko George sits cozily on our sofa, watching us with his big amber eyes and making cute widdle noises. He's pretty well-behaved, even though we have to put him into time out at least once a day.

A lot of the assumptions we made about Ah-Gou's health were wrong (what we saw as signs of neglect were actually just signs of old doggy age), so we didn't want to read too many things into Taroko George's condition. When we first saw him, however, he had a bad cat flu, a ring of crusty discharge around his eyes, large patches of black ear wax and was pretty skinny. It seems clear that he was not well taken care of, but at the same time he is very friendly, so I think it is unlikely that he was completely neglected or abused. I wish I knew what his backstory was.

Ron and I are very happy to have a new cat son in our lives, even when George uses us as scratching posts.

Anyway, I'll start blogging about other things besides my cat soon, including a really cool indoor activity, which is the only kind of activity anyone in Taipei will be doing if the weather gets anymore obnoxious than it already is. There have been just a few patches of clear weather and a little bit of sunlight. Every time the sun shines, I basically drop whatever I am doing and run outside, screaming and waving my arms, to get a little bit of vitamin D.

我們的貓咪很調皮, 可是我們還覺得牠是個小天使.

Set your RSS readers to stunned... with horror

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 17:24:00 +0000

Next month my goal is to post at least once a day for NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month). My inspirations include my novel-writing friends who are participating in NaNoWriMo (including Angela of The Not-So-Secret Diary of a Bad Luck Girl) and the fact that I like to set crazy goals for myself that I know will only end in self-recrimination. Also, I've lived here for more than two years and many things that once made me misty-eyed and slack-jawed with wonder and glee are now just part of my daily landscape. I think that is a shame and hopefully the search for things to post about will help the blinders come off.

Some of my posts will probably be about our upcoming wedding banquet, some will be about things I've been meaning to blog about for a long time but never got around to, and some will just be random pictures or thoughts. I'll also use NaBloPoMo as an opportunity to answer some questions I've received about Shida and other aspects of life in Taipei.

And, of course, if any of you (including my friends and family... I know you read this blog! Or... do you? Hello? Hello? Sob.) have any questions, please let me know in the comments or via e-mail. I'll answer to the best of my abilities (unless the question is "why are you such a dumbass?" In which case, the only answer you'll get out of me is "because I don't talk out of my ass. Duh!").

The Sounds of Taiwan

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 11:28:00 +0000

A couple weeks ago, I received an e-mail from Emma and Yi, who are competing as team Emyi in Taiwan's Best Trip. The duo have put together a great travel itinerary that focuses on this country's music cultures, ranging from aboriginal dances to Taipei's nightclub scene. Read more about Emma and Yi's project or check out one of their videos below:

I enjoyed watching Emyi's video and the other entries at the YouTube channel of Taiwan's Best Trip. After living here for two years, I've fallen into a bit of a routine, both in terms of what I do on a day-to-day basis and what aspects of Taiwanese culture I'm interested in. It was fun to see what each team thinks visitors to Taiwan should explore.

Find out more about the Taiwan's Best Trip contest (which you have probably read about on other blogs) here.

Recommended for your sanity: Taiwan Taxi

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 09:11:00 +0000

I've complained before on this blog about my dealings with obnoxious taxi drivers who make uncalled for remarks. Since then, I've also been dropped off in the wrong spot by a driver whose excuse was "I don't have a map on me" and, worse, sexually harassed several times. One particularly noxious driver said that I was the first American woman he'd met who didn't look like a man, among other comments about my looks, and kept turning around to leer at me with eyes that he should have been keeping on the freakin' road! A pervert and an idiot! What a treasure!

I used to wonder if I got targeted for obnoxiousness because I am a hua yi... but that's not the case. Almost everyone I know -- Taiwanese, foreigners, men, women -- have their share of creepy taxi driver stories. My stories are bad, but they aren't the worst I've heard. At least no one has ever tried to show me their collection of filthy movies while we were stuck in heavy traffic (I guess in-car DVD players aren't always a good thing!).

I know I am painting all taxi drivers with the same brush and that is unfair because I usually receive perfectly competent service when I hail a cab by the side of the road. But the bad experiences with the loonies are made all the more unpleasantly memorable by the fact that you are pretty much locked in a car with said loony (and it doesn't help that the crazier the driver is, the more likely they are to flout traffic laws). To be honest, whenever I hail a cab by the side of the road, I feel like I'm taking a gamble.

I prefer taking public transportation, but if I need to call a car, I use Taiwan Taxi (大車隊). Taiwan Taxi has a company policy where drivers aren't allowed to discuss religion or politics (that pretty much takes care of 99.9% of harassing conversations) and you get a discount on the cab fare if you call ahead. There are instructions for calling a cab on the company's Web site in Chinese and English. What I usually do is dial 55688 from my cell phone, press 3 and tell the operator my address (you have to physically be at your pick up location because Taiwan Taxi uses a satellite system to direct its fleet). An automated service then tells me the car number of my cab; to confirm, I press 1 (if you hang up before confirming, service is canceled). A taxi usually arrives within six minutes.

Taiwan Taxi keeps the last address you called from on record, which is handy if you intend to use their service often. The only problem I've encountered so far is that their 55688 number sometimes doesn't work. 405-88888 is their land line number, which you can use at a pay phone.

In general, taking a taxi in Taipei is very safe, but there are a few things you should keep in mind. If you plan to take a cab late at night by yourself, the best thing to do is to use a taxi service, like Taiwan Taxi, and make sure that someone knows the name of the company and the number of your cab. If you need to hail a car by the side of the road, try to have a friend with you. Both of you should note the taxi number and you should say to your friend, audibly, "I'll call you when I get home." If a driver makes you uncomfortable, call a friend on the phone, have a conversation with them and make sure to note where you are and when you expect to reach your destination. Of course, you can always ask the driver to pull over and let you out if he's being a jerk or you are worried about your safety. If you do that, keep your eye out for a convenience store or other well-lit 24-hour business to stop in front of.

If you have any other cab safety tips or taxi service recommendations, please let me know in the comments.

ETA: From one of my Twitter contacts: "I like 大都會 too (55178). Their service is similarly reliable. Was cheaper (7折) than 55688 (8折), but I think they're equal now."

When it rains cats & dogs, it certainly purrs

noreply@blogger.com (catherine_sr.) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 15:24:00 +0000

A couple days after we reunited Ah-Gou with his owner, Ron rescued an abandoned kitten from the street. At first we thought he had escaped from the cat cafe, but when we brought him in, we were informed he is not one of theirs. We know they have more than enough foster kittens and cats already, so we took the kitty home, intending to take care of him until we found him a new home. But after a day of being nuzzled and snuggled by the kitten, we decided to adopt him. Welcome, Taroko George!

I'm happy that we have a kitten (though I am not looking forward to telling our landlords... our contract does not prevent us from having pets but I don't think they like the idea) because Ron and I have been talking about adopting one for a while, but I am really ticked off about the way he came to us.

What kills me is that we actually saw the people who abandoned him a couple nights ago. Ron and I were near the cafe playing with one of their kitties when the two rode up on motorcycles. We looked over and saw them cooing at a kitten on the ground who turned out to be Taroko George. "Oooh, the cafe got a new cat!" they said loudly.

Ron and I thought it was weird that a kitten was running outside the cafe, since the staff members usually keep a close eye on them. After a few minutes, however, a waitress came out and briefly talked to the duo before heading home, so we thought things were okay and that the two were cafe regulars. As it turns out, they told her that the kitten was theirs before they also left. The whole "ooooh, the cafe got a new cat, what a cute new cat!" stuff was said for our benefit so Ron and I wouldn't be suspicious.

We found this out the next morning when we brought Taroko George into the cafe. Ron had found him a block away and nicknamed him "Curious George" because we thought he was just prone to multiple escape attempts from the cafe. Aside from a little cat cold, Taroko George is healthy and very, very rambunctious. We brought him to a vet, who immunized him and prescribed medication and eye drops, which we have been administering to Taroko George with varying degrees of success.

I've mentioned this several times already, but irresponsible animal owners really get to me in a way that few other things do. I don't care what the animal is providing -- companionship, labor, meat -- if it is dependent on you, then you make sure it is healthy and you make sure it is not in pain or distress, period.

I think one of the reasons I get so annoyed with pet owners who don't do their duty is that most companion animals are really not that hard to take care of. All they usually need is food, shelter, some attention and an annual vet visit. If you can't handle that, that's fine -- just don't get a pet.

During my first few months out of college in New York City, I lived with a roommate who refused to take her dog to the vet, buy him flea medication even when he could not go to sleep because his bites bothered him so much, rarely washed him and walked him way less than she should have (she let him out in our landlords' tiny front yard instead). She said she didn't have the money for a vet visit or flea shampoo, nor time to walk or groom him properly -- but that's not true. Yes, she was short on cash, but she chose to spend her money on other things instead of a $5 bottle of flea shampoo, and she chose to spend her time sleeping and watching TV. When her dog accidentally ate an entire box of chocolates, her reaction was "ha ha ha, no wonder he was so thirsty!" -- never mind that chocolate is toxic to dogs and it is a miracle her Shih-Tzu didn't end up needing his stomach pumped or worse.

I'm ranting about that experience because it left me with the impression that people who neglect their pets or abandon them are making the choice to be lazy assholes. I know that sounds harsh and that there are many things that might force someone to get rid of an animal or not be a perfect owner, but no one needs to dump an elderly, sick dog in a filthy box outdoors on a rainy, chilly morning. No one needs to toss a 10-week-old kitten on the street and leave him to fend for himself in a neighborhood full of feral cats and speeding mopeds. When someone refuses to treat their dog's flea infestation and bathe them, they are saying that they don't care if the dog ends up with a life threatening infection by scratching himself until his skin is covered with open wounds. When someone chooses to spend $50 on books or movies instead of their pet's regular check-up, they are saying that they are OK with their pet's health being neglected.

Ron and I have been talking about adopting a cat since I arrived in Taiwan, but we put it off until we were certain that we planned to stay here more than just a couple of years. Ideally, we would have talked to our landlords before committing ourselves to Taroko George, but if it comes down to it, we'll move before we give our cat up. We are going to look into getting pet health insurance and, if that isn't available, we are going to keep money and a credit card on reserve just in case, heaven forbid, he ever has a major health crisis. The two of us have done research on moving pets from Taiwan to the United States and while we aren't looking forward to it, we know what the process entails. If for whatever reason we can't continue to take care of Taroko George, we'll find him a good new home. If we weren't willing to do that, we wouldn't have kept him because WE DON'T WANT TO BE LAZY ASSHOLES!!! Lazy, maybe, but not lazy assholes.

GGAAAAAHHHH!!! My rant is nearly over, but I want to make sure that I am not giving people the impression that Taiwanese pet owners are any more irresponsible as a group than their counterparts in other countries. There is a problem with stray animals here, but from what I've read and heard, that is in large part because there aren't the same number of resources available, such animal shelters, that there are in, for example, the United States. Many animal lovers and advocacy groups work with catch, neuter and release programs -- but can only offer shelter to the sickest and neediest animals.

If you've been following my blog since the beginning, you might have noticed that I've written less and less about the cat cafe and its feline denizens. That's not because I'm any less fond of them. It's because they have a problem with Taiwanese and foreigners abandoning cats at their place, and I don't want to give anyone any ideas. I know from following their blog that the owner and her staff are under constant pressure, partly because many of the cats they do take in have health issues and are difficult to place in new homes.

If you are interested in helping stray animals or adopting a pet, please check out Animals Taiwan's Web site. The group is staffed by a mix of expats and Taiwanese people and while they are rarely able to actually take in animals, they will hook you up with a vet (I'm not 100% sure, but I think those vets will neuter animals for free) and help you put out adoption notices in Chinese and English. If you find a sick animal on the street, please take them to a vet if at all possible. There are a lot of vets in Taipei and quite a few of them really have a soft spot for stray animals. Don't expect them to keep the animal, but they can give them a check up and immunization shots, and might give you a Good Samaritan discount. The cost of Taroko George's initial visit (which included a full physical, shots, three days worth of cold medicine, medicated eye drops and a small bottle of flea shampoo) cost a little over NT$800, but we got a couple hundred NT dollars off because we'd brought in a stray. And, of course, the vet might know if your new friend is a lost animal, as was the case with Ah-Gou.

By the way, if you are wondering why we named our cat after a national park -- we didn't. I wanted to name him after Tarako, the Japanese mentaiko-based spaghetti sauce, because his orange-spotted white fur reminded me of sauce on pasta. Plus, I love their wacky commercials and the look on the little girl's face in this one was pretty much the look Ron and I gave the cat cafe waitresses when we realized that for the second time in one week we'd be taking care of an unexpected animal visitor:

But "tarako" means "salted roe food" in Japanese, and as Ron put it, "the cat is not a fish, he eats fish!" So we changed the spelling to Taroko, partly for the cat's dignity, partly to pay tribute to Taiwan's natural beauty (which you can say he's a part of) and partly because it means "magnificent" in the language of the Truku aboriginal tribe. The George part completes the pun, and is also an homage to the great choreographer George Balanchine, a cat lover.