elmer the patchwork elephant

from the same boy who brought us the cutest valentine in the history of mankind, i present: the elmer the patchwork elephant pencil case. jerry and i stopped going to chinese together a couple of months ago, so now we hardly ever see each other. but a month or two ago, i commented on how i loooved his pencil case.the english isn't weird, the drawings aren't crazy or particularly asian, but this pencil box is just screaming 'jerry'. it's endearing, it's random, it's baby pink on the bottom. so how thrilled was i when he showed up with one for me on saturday night? i know i'm not going to fill it with pencils, since that's what my purse is for, but i'm not sure what to put in such a shallow space. ideas?well today was the last day of big important errands with deadlines. now all i need to do is mail some packages, find housing in DC and start banking money to last me through december. i think that includes limiting myself to expensive indian food once a week, and restricting the tea consumption to one cup a day.three days until the o'sullivans hit taiwan! they're a couple from the US who are relocating to one of the cities in the middle of taiwan and i've been following their blog. they seem super sweet and i hope i get to meet them before i go home. i'm so excited for them!

p.s. this is so funny and asian. heck if i haven't seen it at carrefour :P

p.p.s. this is the song (sorry sorry by superjunior) that my new kid, ethan, spontaneously gets up and sings/dances in class. it is hilarious. his hair is like a shaggy bowl cut and he has moves like a little break dancer.

sweet potato times volume 1 issue 5

[Editor's note.. it's much better with the pictures and formatting, so just leave your email if you'd like me to email you the PDF version so you can view it as intended. that said, i think the text only version is an acceptable second place.]

The Rotten Sweet Potato
Hello! The smell of a forgotten sweet potato and the sounds of my grandmother’s pleas have forced me to return, to attempt an ambitious recollection of my haphazard adventures of late. If you will forgive me, I can promise bold and exciting tales from across the world this month, a whirlwind tour of my trip south to Tainan/Kaoshung, the mind-blowing scene of Chinese New Year and Lantern Festival, and a delicious Christmas Dinner at the only true Italian Bistro in Taiwan, Latinis. Feel free to peruse my new homestead, a place we’ve affectionately named “The Castle,” and relive and some good-times at our inaugural, typical-English, tea party. Meet the characters of my home-away-from-homeland and see a few of the local Western haunts. Let’s get going!

The Trip to Tainan and Kaoshung: 400 Temples Per Minute Sometime in early January, on a bit of a whim, I took our day-off for New Years Day to travel with my close friend and former SPT contributor Megan Klein, temple-guide and partner in crime Alex Gholz, and typical English wonder-woman Dawn Powers down to Kaoshung and Tainan, large cities in the south of Taiwan. While we were all a little hazy from the previous nights’ festivities, and while rolling my suitcase approximately a mile to catch the free shuttle to the super-fast MRT train that runs down south (and public transportation here is phenomenal, take note Barack) was something of a hassle, we arrived in Tainan a couple of hours later to meet my wonderful Chinese teacher and friend, Ho Bobo, and her two smiling children, Jaime and Joyce.

I have to thank my tutor Bobo profusely for putting us up with her family for two nights and driving us down to Kaoshung. Taiwanese hospitality is an amazing, defining part of why I have such a fondness for this place. Not only did Bobo and her friends treat us to some of the most delicious Japanese food I’ve ever encountered, she showed us the sights around Taiwan as only a local could. She took us through some intriguing night-markets and let us help ourselves to some wonderful hot pot in her home. She led us to the “Ai Hugh,” or love river, and sang a little karaoke. Playing with her extremely intelligent children on this trip, speaking Chinese and English with them, brought me an immense joy as a teacher. As a friend, as a mentor, as a host, I couldn’t ask for someone better than Bobo in Taiwan.

Day One: We begin our adventure with some wonderful fried shrimp and something akin to rice-wraps at a famous lunch place in Tainan. If you’re wondering about the child next to Bobo, don’t be alarmed! Bobo’s sister was a welcome addition to our trip, and her son, Kenny, with his penchant for Wall-E, drawing, and computer games, was a shoe-in for my immediate love. In what was a whirl-wind first day. We encountered a ton of temples, scouted, sorted, and shuffled through by Alex, a history buff and a man of action. While at times they seemed to all blend together (incense, statues, writing I can’t understand, television placed in an odd corner, someone throwing moon dice), I was none-the-less impressed at some of the magical things we encountered.

Day Two: After an exciting morning being treated to Breakfast by Bobo’s step-father, we pushed onward into more temples. And more temples. And more temples. Needless to say, I was reaching a breaking point on history and culture, found myself a coffee house and had a delicious coffee. Before I knew what was happening, however, we were being whisked down south to Kaoshung and the promise of a mountain full of monkeys. And if my dream of the monkey mountain did not materialize, well, I did walk around a large lake, find a giant dragon statue placed by the Rotary Club, and get eaten by a dragon.

As day turned to night, Bobo suggested we drive down to the newly cleaned “Ai Hugh,” the river of love and enchantment. I never got the full story behind the Love River, except to say the lights and street vendors, the live music... everything contributed to an ethereal feel for the night. I also got some ice cream! Megan and I got our traditional love-hand pose, per Bobo’s ever-encouraging requests. After belting out a bit of token English for the coffee place live-music girl, we hopped onto the river boat and sailed into love. Or at least a wonderful conclusion to our trip.

Dénouement: All good things must come to an end, as we could barely keep our eyes open or thoughts in line, we all opted for the most comfortable bus line ever to grace mankind: HouShin Lines. Arguably Megan’s favorite part of the trip, these buses were designed for kings and built for titans. With reclining leather seats, vibration message, personal television screens and relatively low cost, we were all passed out within seconds of stepping onto the bus. Ironically, as my roommate Alex Guppy and I gravitate towards each other naturally, he had also mysteriously shown up four hours south with his friend and rode back with us. A picturesque ending to a wonderful trip, a time I will never forget.

Christmas, Chinese New Year, Lantern Festival: Catching Up
Remember Christmas? Well I certainly do! Yes, it’s been just that long since we’ve talked last, but you ought to know Christmas was a great success. I give thanks to my friend Beth for a wonderful party she organized at the local Italian restaurant, Latini’s. There was a great turnout of about fourteen or fifteen people, mostly Gloria teachers with a few family members and locals. We feasted on four turkeys and copious amounts of wine, potatoes, more wine, and though we didn’t all have spoons for some reason, we had wonderful friends and a sense of Christmas spirit unmatched anywhere on Earth. And Christmas Carols.

Latini’s is a favorite haunt for me as it’s the only place to find real cheese and Panini sandwiches with bread that doesn’t taste like cotton-candy. On any given Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday you might find me wolfing down an entire pizza and pumpkin soup, and talking with Danny about gadgets or America. On any given everyday you can find Megan there. One time I got a passion fruit ice cream. There’s always some reason to go.

Remember Chinese New Year? Perhaps you saw a show of dragon dancing and a few fireworks in China town, but until I was being chased by an errant firework that appeared to be heading straight for one of numerous firework trucks, until a giant wooden bull and a billion light-up balloons were everywhere to be seen, until I thought perhaps China had started sending hellfire down on us, no, wait, it’s only five A.M. on a Monday night and someone’s lighting off more fireworks -- I can’t say these two holidays had much weight in my memory.

Chinese New Year lasts for a week and the fireworks go non-stop. This holiday is much more heralded than Christmas, with everyone getting a week off to visit family and eat lots of hot pot. The foreigners who remained in town, myself included, went out to capture some of the sights on sounds. I of course took this opportunity to flex my photography skills with some moderate success. I also escaped with no burns or lesions.

I would later learn that the light-up balloons I had encountered were leading up to an event following the Chinese New Year festivities: Lantern Festival. For some reason I’m not quite sure of, lighting up lanterns with candles and sending them into the sky is a big event on certain days of the year. Lantern Festival here in Taoyuan lasted about a week, with a large construction in a park near our home and some really fascinating lanterns made my school children across Taiwan. This is also the home of the giant wooden bull and a really rank collection of stinky tofu vendors, a gauntlet of smell. I visited the festivities first with Bobo and Megan and saw some wonderfully intricate constructions and, of course, more fireworks. I later visited them again after a Gloria teacher’s banquet with considerable food and beer digesting, and found myself in a dream world of magic.

My New Home: The Castle For those of you who know me well, you can remember the long-period of squalor in which I fought for my four years of college: two years in the dorms, sans carpeting or air-conditioning. A year in a flooding basement apartment with paper-thin walls and the Gatling-gun noise of run-off rain from the gutters hitting a metal spout. A year in another basement, monastic, caved-in, studying French on an all-consuming desk.

I thought that paragraph from SPT 1 bared repeating, as I have since returned to those conditions for a brief period, in a room I like to call “The Coffin.” After Alex’s lease ended on our old apartment, “The Palace,” we found a wonderful new place. The only catch was that we would have to spend a week in the Gloria dorms. For reasons which don’t warrant repeating, that week slowly stretched into two months.

Doomed to indirect light barely supplied, a rice-matt bed, using my yoga matt as floor covering over dirt, and trekking to communal bathrooms, I had returned to my survival roots. Pictures are not necessary here. I was one with the nature, I was the Survivorman, and it was glorious. Still, my time at the dorms was wonderful for reasons that go beyond creature comforts. Spending so much time outside my room brought me closer to my friends there, and led me to many new ones. I invited them all to a tea party. But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

I must say that though new friends were nice, it was time for an upgrade.

After two months, our time had arrived. Here is your introduction to “The Castle,” our new place, a first-floor, completely quiet, furnished, four-bedrooms, flat-screen TVs, gas-burning Italian stove and Alex bought a rice cooker home. For my soul, things have been good. My own room has a king-sized bed, dark furniture and a window... with curtains!

I’m certainly in love with the Castle. Our landlord speaks English and our neighbors are all friendly families. One lady is the regional manager of Fridays and gave us mugs and free appetizers. The security guard always gets the door for us. I learned how to cook pasta sauce, with chicken and vegetables! Take that, dinner of toast and eggs! I owe all this wonder to my awesome roommate, Chinese master, and general genius of a friend, Alex Guppy. He brought to this magical land and brought me to The Palace, and now to the Castle. Today he bought me a pizza. He is the true king of this Castle.

The Tea Party

To celebrate our luck and fortune I hosted a tea party with outstanding turn out. We listened to classical music, sat, and drank jasmine tea for about four hours on a Sunday. I purchased crackers and set out coffee table books including purple book Longman English Book and something called “Photography” I found in Alex’s room, which might have just been a manual for the Nikon. I drank way too much tea and had an amazing afternoon.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: How are you filling up your time? A: Friends and family can rest easy knowing I’m earning my way pretty well here. I’m continuing to increase my hours at Gloria slowly and now also have a private class on Sundays, and I’m still looking for more exciting opportunities around Taiwan. I’m continuing tutoring now three times a week and my conversational Chinese is improving rapidly. I’ve tried my hand at photography and am continuing to write a couple of hours a week. I had a very miniscule poem published in an online journal and earned $1, so I’m considering that a pretty big moral victory. Overall, I’m still learning, earning, making friends, and figuring things out in a very serious manner.

Okay. So what happened to graduate school applications?
I found out this evening, in fact, that my prospects at Michigan and Wisconsin-Madison for a Masters of Fictional Arts program are bleak this year. Quite bleak. So bleak that there are none, as I was rejected. I feel bad for them for rejecting me, and am considering writing a letter of rejection of their rejection, but, that could become an infinite loop and I don’t want to get caught up in that right now. Instead, I’ll be focusing on taking my GRE in August when I stop over for a visit, and diversifying my applications for next year. Public policy, journalist, garbage man... anything could be my fate!

When are you coming home?
August. Aren’t you reading? Ay-O. Officially, I believe I will remain in Taiwan another year, though I won’t have to make any definitive decision on that until June when my contract is up for renewal. I love working for Gloria and I love where I’m at in my life, so I think remaining here and finishing Chinese learning is what’s best for me right now. Though I do miss you all greatly. And burritos.

How's the weather?
I feel bad for you and I for entirely different reasons. While I hear about the snow blockading you inside your home, I’m in shorts most days. On the flipside, there was a rampant mosquito problem for about three months, leaving me tired and paranoid when the bugs attacked my face at three in the morning. Certain solutions to this problem can be found: I moved. This grand move was, unfortunately, timed perfectly with another sad reality of Taiwanese life: Rainy Season. For two months, apparently, we have rain everyday. Or close to it. And I own a scooter. If you do the math, you will find Jerry + Rain / Scooter = Unhappy Teaching. So I’m investing in rain pants. Still, as when I arrived, Mango season cometh, with smoothies and wonderful, tropical weather everyday. And typhoons. So basically, the bi-polar nature of Michigan weather follows me in my life.

I want to thank Megan Klein, Alex Gholz, for a lot of the photographs you find here-in. I have perhaps been a little over-bearing on denouncing over-priced, large DSLR cameras, while simultaneously pouching a lot of pictures taken by them for this newsletter. Laments. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to reach you all with this latest issue, but I hope you had a few laughs and a bit of joy. I’m always reachable by e-mail and remain skypable to your phones. Don’t let the snow bring you down, and until next time...
Gerald A. Gordinier II

sweet potato times, issue 2

Not Soap. Sopp.

 THE SWEET POTATO TIMES  BY: GERALD GORDINIER VOLUME I, ISSUE 2 AUGUST 2008
The Sweet Potato Times: Welcome back friends and family for the second installment of The Sweet Potato Times. To answer the most pressing question of the past month: expect The Sweet Potato Times to grace your mailboxes around the fifteenth of every month. Without a camera at this time, I’ve consulted the internet for various shots. And as I’ve actually been teaching this month, I’m sad to say that there hasn’t been too much adventure. Instead, look on the people-centric nature of this issue to see that the true adventure is the adventure of the heart... which is in us all. Or just wait until next month.

There are also some new features this month: “Spotlight on Taiwan” and “NI Hao!”. As the Sweet Potato Times is meant to encapsulate the Taiwan experience, the island is always best seen through fresh eyes. To this end, the “Spotlight on Taiwan” section will feature a new author each month, writing on a myriad of subjects ranging from geo-political relations, to dog fashion, to the pros and cons of stinky tofu. This week, I’m proud to welcome Megan Klein and her insights on the Taiwanese cultural fascination with English and the inherent failure which lies there-in.

Our next new section is entitled “NI Hao!,” or “hello!” in Chinese. Mandarin is the language spoken most frequently here, Taiwanese and Japanese having slowly been left to the older generation. While there is a complex series of stresses which indicate intonation, and therefore meaning, of Chinese words, it is more likely that I will abandon any attempt to express those stresses with advanced characters and simply CAPitalIZE the stressed parts of the words, not unlike the 1950’s edition of So you’re going to China? phrase-book which I picked up in a used book-store bathroom in D.C.. This was the same book, same edition, that Nixon used to travel here. Phrases such as “Get my wife,” and “I would like an American cigar,” have proven invaluable. Let’s learn together.
And, before we go any further, I must own up to the catalyst for this new language-centric section: that I’ve been ousted by some of my more fluent friends here. Taiwan does not, in fact, mean “Sweet Potato.”


My exhaustive research (read: Google) has failed to come up with the true translation of Taiwan, or even an intended meaning. The Portuguese called the island “Formosa,” or “beautiful island,” in 1517. Apparently Taiwanese people are sometimes called “Sweet Potato children,” according to an inside source at the dorm, the original tree of the rotted fruit of the title of our beloved publication. Let us none-the-less embrace the “Sweet Potato” moniker. I mean, come on:
They are the same.

The Palace: Farewell Erin, Welcome Dorm Storm Before we go any further, it is close approaching the time to bid farewell to friend, roommate, and colleague Erin Kilburn. She must return to spread the word of Asia and finish one more year at Kalamazoo College. Despite the violent implications of her last name, “kill-burn,” Erin has been neither killing nor burning, instead, a constant source of childhood hi-jinx, a sardonic jive-turkey, and, simultaneously, a wise and weathered sage. I must thank her for her guidance on my trip into Taipei, for without her I would still be wandering around eighteen different forms of Jungshan road. Her cooking of family dinners has filled my heart and soul with nutritious chicken and pineapple. She fashions a fine oatmeal cookie and cleans a mean maggot-covered organic trash bin. For these and all the intangibles, I will miss her dearly, but I find comfort in knowing she’ll be partying heavily in the glory of America, Washington, D.C., and the glory of the Mid-West, Michigan. The other big news in the house this month was the presence of a fierce and tremendous foe, Saber Tooth the Kitten. On loan from Big-Man Brian during his sojourn in Japan, we branded him Saber Tooth for his penchant for biting feet as they come down the stairs, sending his naive concerned-about-crushing-a-kitten human foes tumbling down the stairs. While his whiney roar was a bit of a stretch from the deep-throated chortle of a full-sided ancient saber tooth tiger, our beloved Saber Tooth never-the-less made up for this short-coming by picking apart wood chips from every corner of our apartment and dumping the maggot-covered organic trash into his litter box. Obviously, he will be sorely missed as well.

I’d also like to announce that I’ve solved The Mystery of Unnecessary Wildlife. Perhaps you will remember that my all-glassed-in room, affectionately called “The Aquarium,” has a plethora of windows. These windows have roughly three panes and a complex system of sliding screens and latches. Now you can imagine my incredulity when eight cock-roaches, a thousand mosquitoes, and a hand-sized wasp were present in my room each morning. Finally, in anger at battling my last wasp, I decided that it was time to tape. After covering every crevice, nook, and cranny in my room with a bit of packing tape, I looked at the windows a bit closer. There is an inch of opening on each side of my windows. This was obvious when I moved in, but, in my naivety, I assumed that shutting the left side of this window, then shutting the right side, would keep out nature at bay. Foolish men who slide their windows in vain! The windows were connected! Suffice to say that I had been shutting the left side and opening the ride side, and vice-versa, back and forth, every night for two months. Plungers, roach-traps, and shoe-slamming are nothing without a bit of common-sense.

And as two doors close and two windows are taped up, so must three doors open and new people walk in through those doors. I’m pleased to announce the arrival of new roommates: Beth M., Allen, and Natalie. Dormitory expatriates, these champions now hope to experience the joys of afternoon swimming, trips to the water repository and private bathrooms. Their promised delivery of an IKEA wok and Allen’s penchant for Nintendo Wii have endeared them to the house immediately. I believe a long and prosperous journey is ahead for this motley crew of five.


WHAT’S BEEN HAPPENING... THE SITES AND SOUNDS If ever there was a unifying force between nations, it would have to be Bowling Alley culture. Our late-night trip to the bowling alley was marked most by its patrons’ surprising similarity to American bowlers: slightly over-weight, chain smoking groups of league bowlers, hipster teens, and awkward couples. I felt a bit of déjà vu from my championship days of bumper bowling. I was jarred from this quite quickly at the presence of gourmet ramen noodles at every table. The scent of noodles has been burnt into my conscience.

So as I teach different levels of students here, my most advanced classes tend to be late middle-school and high school students. According to these students, if you ask anyone in Taiwan what their favorite place to visit is, you will inevitably be told some Night Market. Night Markets are big in most sizable cities here, and consist of streets and streets of food vendors, black markets, white markets, shrimp fishing, Japanese pinball, stinky tofu, and scooters swerving in and out of a thousand people. My first trip was marked with a rather slimy Dan Bing, a somewhat delicious egg dish, if made correctly. The deep-fried octopus balls of unknown consistency did not add to my enjoyment. All of these were saved by the delicious, and somewhat mysterious, turkey sandwich vendor. Night market: Success.

This weekend also opened my eyes to the wonders of Jhong Li, a little pub town about twenty minutes away next to a rather large university. Coming from the illustrious University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, some may know of my love for pub scene activities: darts, obnoxious singing, poor dance moves, and the occasional cocktail. Taoyuan is a fine place to live, but a poor place to enjoy these things. Anyone who has stepped foot in a college party in the last five years has known the blissful joy of off-key singing to Journey’s classic “Don’t Stop Believin’.” And you must now, too, know the pain of no longer believing. From failing to hear the song. Well, if one can’t have the music, one must live in its inspired mindset: clubs are open until four A.M. here in Taiwan and my experience at Jhong Li’s Search night-club has made me believe again. After a handful of Heineken, an argument about elevators which escalated into a diplomatic crisis, an in-depth analysis of the origins of the moniker “kiwi,” with a kiwi, and numerous compliments on growing so tall, I slipped into my apartment at 6am to catch the morning and share the depths of humanity with those unfortunate few who happened to be on Facebook. I believe.


But life is pretty simple here to be honest. I’d be remiss if I did not mentioning one of my first big adventures here in Taiwan, the simpler pleasures of scenery: my trip up Tiger Head Mountain. A five-minute scooter ride down Dayou road and up winding trails brings one to an breath-taking vista over-looking all of Taoyuan.
(view from tiger head mountain)
Many of my students claimed this spot was great hiking, though they also claimed that there was a dinosaur on the mountain. They tend to make these sorts of claims. I travelled at night with friend and Canadian Ashley -- now departed -- bought mouth-watering food from local vendors who set-up shop there each night, and sat taking in the city. We watched the remaining light trace off the city while I fed two hungry dogs the remnants of my squid and sausage, which wouldn’t agreeing with man or mutt. While there was no dinosaur, but it was a trip I’ll never forget.


NI HAO!: LET’S COUNT TO TEN! To start off what I consider the most painful section to write, I think it’s best if we learn our numbers to ten. It’s interesting that students, when they count on their fingers here up to ten, have different gestures after five than those in use in America. Some of these symbols are somewhat intuitive: the seven is formed by a downward pointing of the index finger and sticking out ones thumb, which looks just like the English symbol for seven. Ten is formed by crossing the index fingers like a cross: evidently a symbol from the Chinese sign for ten. While there are a number of different systems for the phonetic and alphabetic spelling of Chinese words, Pinyin is the most accessible and most widely disseminated. The meaning of Chinese words depends on the stress or emphasis which you place on certain parts of the word. Pinyin has complicated symbols on top to describe these tones. I will be placing a (number) in parenthesis to explain the tone. Tones are hard for us but they are important: the word for the numbers four and ten is basically the same, but one falls and one rises in intonation to give separate meanings.
Wikipedia will help us: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_Mandarin Relative pitch changes of the four tones
1. First tone, or high-level tone (陰平/阴平 yīnpíng, literal meaning: yin-level): a steady high sound, as if it were being sung instead of spoken.
2. Second tone, or rising tone (陽平/阳平 yángpíng, literal meaning: yang-level), or linguistically, high-rising: is a sound that rises from mid-level tone to high (e.g., What?!)
3. Third tone (low or dipping tone, 上聲/上声 shǎngshēng or shàngshēng, literal meaning: "up tone"): has a mid-low to low descent; if at the end of a sentence or before a pause, it is then followed by a rising pitch.


Between other tones it may simply be low.
4. Fourth tone, falling tone (去聲/去声 qùshēng, literal meaning: "away tone"), or high-falling: features a sharp fall from high to low, and is a shorter tone, similar to curt commands. (e.g., Stop!)
Let’s Count!
Number Pinyin Sounds Like 0 ling(2) Ling 1 Yi(1) E 2 Er(4) R 3 San(1) San 4 Si(4) Suh 5 wu(3) Wooo-uh 6 liu(4) Lee-O 7 qi (1) Tschi 8 ba(1) Bah 9 jio(3) G-O 10 Shi(2) Suh Chinese Symbols
Taken from: http://www.mandarintools.com/numbers.html

SPOTLIGHT ON TAIWAN: ENGRISH
By: Megan Klein
As a native English speaker, Engrish/Chinglish is the most hilarious aspect of living in Taiwan. Constantly seeing people walk down the street with things like 'I used to be fed but now I car see' and 'if you want to keep succeeding, you should not reaax your vilace' printed on their shirts is an endless source of enjoyment. I've chased people for blocks just to get a better look. There are two kinds of Engrish: Words that more or less make sense together but are misspelled or somehow taken out of context, and things that aren't words but really just a combination of random letters. The majority of the humor comes from the obvious lack of understanding of whoever made the shirt/named the store/wrote the billboard/translated the signs. One of my favorite examples is a shirt with a skull and cross bones on it and the word 'banana' written underneath.

Store names are funny as well but it's sad that the owner is permanently stuck with the error. My favorites in downtown Taoyuan: for gorgeous hunks, comebuy, familymart, cash city (restaurant), muggle restaurant, elegent chairs, beauty lady. You would think that major venues like airports and international stores would be immune, but they aren't. 'Caramel' is misspelled on the Starbucks menu, and even McDonalds had mistakes on their English menu. I offered to translate the spa menu for the spa I’ve been going to, and the owner seemed offended because she speaks some English herself, which must mean that the people writing the Engrish think the job they do is perfectly fine. And maybe they're right. When the majority of people in the country don't speak English, why should they care if the translated name of their company makes no sense? But I still want to walk around with a giant red marker and correct it.

Megan Klein is a proudly native Texan with an adoring family and a winning smile. She has been in Taiwan roughly two months and studying English absurdities her entire adult life. This is her first appearance as a contributor for the Sweet Potato Times. Send her some well-constructed, well-spelled words of encouragement at merganfrog@gmail.com


FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS Q: The Olympics are on. I didn’t see you at the Olympics. Does Taiwan compete? I mean... compete? A: While the Gordinier family has never been one for keeping up on sports, I’ve caught a bit of the action on public televisions. From what I can gather, Taiwan is well-placed in the badminton, ping-pong, archery, and pool divisions. Of course I gather this knowledge just from turning on the television and observing children in the street and may perhaps be figmentary and/or racist. I’m hoping that pool is actually an event of the Olympics. Q: Can you drink the water? A: While the locals drink the water, it’s best to buy big gallon jugs. We have a convenient water-refill station across the street which you can buy about a jug and a half for ten NT, or 33cents US. The best part of this is, in true Asia style, the over-blown and unnecessary but truly charming melodies which play while the water refills. Everything from childhood memories to simple pop songs to 8-bit Nintendo game songs pipe out of the man-height machine below the dance studio on Dayou. Alex is convinced that he heard the old theme-song to the not-oft-played L’Emperor.

Q: Can I write a “Spotlight on Taiwan”? A: Of course! The only requirement is that you be in Taiwan. I know this eliminates a number of you, but perhaps this is more motivation to take a quick trip over to Asian shores. There are a number of topics to be written on that I’ve come up with over the past couple of weeks, but I’d love to entertain everyone’s own vision for this newsletter. Suggestions are always welcome as it should be with everything one does in life.

Q: Aren’t you working? A: Yes, teaching has been coming along at a steady pace. I’ve been reluctant to jump in on any serious discussions on work as I have to continue doing it everyday. It’s often as an after-thought that I have to teach, sometimes to my own detriment but rarely to the students. It’s more often that it’s an after-thought that I would get paid, which means I might be doing something right in this decision to be here in Taiwan. I plan on giving you a full run-down when I can acquire a camera and get some pictures of my wonderful, adoring fans/students. Until then, just imagine me as a young Robin Williams in Dead Poet’s Society.

A FINAL THOUGHT I hope you will continue to swift through that e-mail drudgery for the sweetness of The Sweet Potato. for The Sweet Potato Times in your e-mail drudgery. Look forward to spotlight on Dogs next issue. I’ll leave you with this, a hint of things to come.

Best, Gerald A. Gordinier

sweet potato times, issue 1

jerry wrote this awesome newsletter for his friends and family that covers a lot of things about taiwan in great detail. i thought you might want to read or skim it.

The Sweet Potato Times: A Primer

Hello friends and family! Welcome to the Sweet Potato Times. I have decided to start this newsletter to keep everyone informed on my life here in Taiwan. I need to give a shout out to my friend and do-gooder Ross Jensen for the inspiration and the format of this Newsletter. As they say, good artists borrow – great artists steal.

A more enlightening version - with photos - is attached as a PDF.

I hope to share some of the idiosyncrasies and beauty of the culture here and let you all know I'm still alive. Please, if I have in my hastiness over-sighted anyone from receiving this mail, let me know their e-mail addresses. Should you wish to be removed, that is insane. Moreover, It's my understanding that Taiwan means "Sweet Potato," as the island is shaped like a sweet potato. It really does look like a sweet potato. And so this is "The Sweet Potato Times."

(This is where a picture would be) (And here)

Sweet Potatoes Taiwan

Arrival

After twenty-four hours in airplanes and airports, I arrived safely at Taoyuan City Airport, exactly twelve hours ahead of the Eastern Time Zone. Hello from the future. It is hot, humid, and rich with smells. Immediately I imagine that this is what a rainforest sloth must feel like. I'm beginning to regret bringing twenty long-sleeve dress shirts and only two polo shirts. The airport, however, has a bit air-conditioning and marble bathrooms. My trip through customs is uneventful, though confusing. There is no English here, save a few misspelled, broken phrases. This will become a point of annoyance and comfort over the course of the next weeks: though I'm consistently confused, I can come to expect that confusion.

My contact at the airport, I believe his name is Tom, is about thirty minutes behind schedule. Later I will learn that this is almost a ritual with Tom, but now I'm stealing free Wi-Fi from something called CAFE SANDWICH! and sending SOS e-mails to my coordinator here. A futile attempt to use a pay phone reveals Tom at the doorway, with broken English and a bit of a harried look on his face, but a smile that immediately endeared him to me.

As I'm sitting in his car on the way to get a first glimpse of my apartment, Tom speaks rapidly about the sites in Taiwan and the set-up with Gloria English Schools. My first impression of the city is of a grey morning and industry shooting up from fields of trash and tall grass, everything running together. The streets are like that too: cars, bicycles, scooters, old men with fruit carts, people crossing, everyone one big massive organism of life and bustle. Tom says that this will take some getting used to. We are in Taoyuan City, Taoyuan County: "peach garden," though I've yet to see a peach. If Taipei is New York, Taoyuan is like an industrialized Chicago. The disordered, natural feel of the place puts me oddly at home.

As we get closer I have a brief conversation with my roommate, partner-in-crime, and siren-call for Taiwan, Alex Guppy. It's hard to imagine that, as two twenty-some-things running into each-other at a leadership conference in Washington, D.C., we would two years later be hanging out drinking beers in Taiwan. Of course, today, Alex saunters out as if someone is delivering a pizza, shakes my hand, and we travel through security guarded gates up to the elevator which will take us to our 12^th story apartment, affectionately called "The Palace."

The Sites and The Excitement

As if my arrival was not intense enough, Alex decided that I ought to immerse myself in an entirely different kind of culture: namely a strip of dance clubs known affectionately as "Thai Disco." There doesn't seem to be a great deal of information about these places online, but with an influx of foreigners from Thailand and other poorer nations coming to work in Taiwan, there are a plethora of clubs immersed in these foreign cultures which strictly forbid Chinese from coming in on the fun... still leaving doors open for Westerners. My trip to Thai Disco began with delicious Thai food –unidentifiable—and ended with spice in my eye, four beers, a sweat-drenched shirt, and four hours of dancing in a club with two-hundred Thai people, many eager to shake my hand. So. It. Goes.

My friend Megan and I also made the trip up to Taipei 101, currently the worlds tallest building open to the public, which also holds the record for the fastest elevator (soon to be over-shadowed by construction in Dubai... like all things.) The base of this awe-inspiring building is filled with six stories of the most expensive stores the mind can imagine: an Italian fiesta from Gucci to Dolce. Above this sits, one assumes, rows and rows of offices and other such commercial excitement, though we skipped all this, straight to the 83^rd floor up the super-fast elevator. We also saw the super-big wind damper which keeps the building standing in wind and earth-quakes, which is a giant yellow ball, though I prefer the sign leading up to the thing.

The view from the 83^rd Floor Super Big

I also made my visit to Fulong Beach in the North of Taipei, a scenic vista known for its beautiful beaches, abundant sun, and awesome surfing. Well, we had all the intention in the world of surfing, but found ourselves waiting around for the Winter tides to come rolling in: a period of time long enough to char my back into one sheet of dead, burnt skin. On the plus side, the green, rolling mountains encircling the crystal-clear ocean around the beach were breath-taking, and the famous Lunch Boxes of Fulong were filled with a delicious medley of foods. After we're certified, Fulong also offers some of the best scuba-diving around: look for Jerry-with-puffer-fish in the near future.

After a long Saturday night of hanging out in the Jingho clubs and eating at the ever-greasy Moss Burger, I embarked with about ten other foreigners on an effort clean a local beach here. We spent about four hours cleaning up the beach, sharing laughs and drinks, and, by the end, had made a surprising dent in the area. Though at times we questioned why we were there, while finding the syringe parts of needles and Monopoly houses and about thirty-seven shoes (none with it's rightful match), the beach clean effort was met with support by many on the beach, who chipped in and bagged with an amazing strength. The guard at the front of the beach saluted us while we took the trash to the grass to be picked up by the government. In that moment, to know that we had given a little back to this country which has given me so much... this was the best moment here so far.

Teaching

I can only assume that some of you have been wondering if and when I've been doing any actual WORK here in Taiwan. I'm looking at you mom and dad. Well, rest assured, I've been doing some things. My first week at Gloria English Schools was extremely stressful, as I came at just the right time to pick up a ton of classes. Good, right? Well, after seeing two-hundred new students, ranging from the ages of 3-17, and thirteen new co-teachers, at two different schools, things can become quite confusing. Now imagine you have no idea what you're doing.

I came at just the right time to pick up thirteen different classes, but not at the right time for training. Slowly, I remembered that I was, in fact, a native speaker of English, and things started to fall into place. There are now clearly three types of classes: classes without desks which run around me for an hour and a half, classes with desks that yell at me for an hour and a half, and classes which I can actually talk to but are frequently asleep. My typical day is consumed by a mere four hours of work, an hour of lesson plans/commute/getting sticky-balls and large dice to play more games. I work Mondays-Saturdays, mostly nights when the students are off of their regular schooling. Right now is summer vacation, so we try to play three games instead of two.

I've recently finished my training and will have my Alien Resident Certificate (read: health insurance) through the school, so fret not about my scootering family and friends (Read Below.) The health-care system here is remarkably cheap in co-pays, is filled with English-speaking doctors, and on the top of lists world-wide. Money is good. I suppose I could tell you more about my classes and responsibilities and demos, but I'd like the brevity of this discussion to reflect the brevity of my time actually spent working.

In some respects, I have been looking towards the future as well: I've spent my free-time in the mornings and afternoons reading frequently and writing a great deal, this newsletter for instance. I've got a number of screenplays in the works, including Galoshes, and hope to be finished on at least two before my year is out. A lofty goal, but one worth shooting for, and one definitely attainable with this level of work.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: Are you eating? What's with the food? Can you get American food?

A: Perhaps the most surprising thing about Taiwan is something all-America: the abundance of 7-11s which are open on every corner. These are not your ordinary 7-11's, however, carrying an amazing amount of different instant foods which 7-11 will nuke for you. And, yes, Slurpees. Aside from this easy access which all foreigners flock to when they arrive, the American food here is often lost in translation. Enjoy burritos now, for you will never taste one quite the same upon arriving. There are "American" dishes here which will redefine the very soul of American food for you, often negatively an irreparably. Avoid Italian food like the plague.

Slowly, however, you begin to appreciate the fact you can get three containers of delicious, freshly-cut fruit for 100NT, or roughly three dollars USD. The fruit here is amazing in diversity and unbelievably juicy. Octopus on a stick and real Bi-Bim-Bop are unbeatable here. Slowly, you begin to appreciate the local buffets and the attempts to make American food, and, if all else fails, you can go into Taipei and order any dish from any culture, anywhere, and have it made exactly to your specifications. Even a burrito, so I am told.

This seems like an awesome time to mention my third partner-in-crime here for the last twenty days, and the next twenty, my friend and colleague Erin Kilburn, as she is also the inspiration of family dinner night. She made us all a delicious chicken and pineapple salad. Erin is a queen and a terror, and you never know what you're going to get. Erin is the best.

Q: ...And the bathrooms?

A: You do not have to poop into a hole, though I have, and did not fall in. Nay, I lived. There are usually toilets in every restaurant. Tissue paper, oddly, does not come on a roll, but in a little bag. Sometimes this is inconvenient, as you must buy tissue paper in bags at malls and other public places, in machines like condom machines. You shouldn't flush that stuff down, apparently, though I've yet to encounter a clog if the necessity strikes or I forget.

Q: Can you get me a Macintosh Computer?

A: Sadly, no. While food and rent here are extraordinarily cheap, and taxes are minimal, electronics and common house-hold items retain their value quite well. Thank you, Globalization.

Q: When are you coming home?

A: I'm set-in here for at least a year, barring some sort of amazing offer from back-home or a calamity. I may be making a surprise trip back in January or sometime in this vicinity, so don't make any plans for a month before and after January.

Q: You're driving now!?!?!

A: The rumors are true. I am a driver. I own a 125cc scooter which, save for the grace of God, should be in shambles by now. But, after my first week in anything-goes traffic, I've developed a sharp eye and a steady, steely gaze. I can see an old man with a fruit cart through two buses, five scooters, and eight cars. The amazing thing about this traffic is that horn-honking is not offensive, but a friendly signal. The first impression I received upon arriving is true: in the absence of any real heavy police force, in the presence of a unified driving culture, I am a phenomenal driver and right at home. In other words, it's hard to screw up.

Q: Earthquakes? Typhoons?

A: Sort of. I experienced an earth-quake here about a week ago, which was little more than a slight dizzy spell and noticing that the chandelier had taken an unexpected slant, slowly waving back and forth. Erin confirmed this terror-quake.

Typhoons are a different beast: while they usually sweep in from the south, hit the mountains and dissipate, sometimes they swing in from the left side, around the sweet potato. These are the ones that hit us hard.

During these types of storms, water can be backed up for up to a week, so we always have a few jugs on hand, and a refill station across the street. Buildings here are built to withstand nuclear bombs, so what a typhoon really means is cancelled school and a chance to go bowling.

As of yet, the only thing we've experienced is soggy socks and pants. These have, during my teaching, been more disastrous than any natural disaster. I've discovered the true value of raincoats and water-proof shoes, the latter of which I don't own. A fan, a drier, and a gust of wind have all become invaluable friends during these times.

Q: Can I come? Someone I know wants to come!

A: Anyone is welcome to come and visit, provided you bring me some tomato soup. I love working for Gloria, so anyone wishing to come work needs only drop me a line at this e-mail, I can provide you with a ton of information.

Q: Has the Ox Cart arrived with your mail?

A: No, but here's my address. You do not need the Chinese, but best to print this out and paste it on the envelope for speedy delivery.

台灣

桃園市

民有東路32號11樓

Jerry

Jerry
MinYouDongLu #32, Building 11
Taoyuan City, Taiwan