One of the Cable Cars at Maokong Gondola

NTNU... Here we come!

How time flies when you're having fun.

Simon and I had planned to study Chinese at National Taiwan Normal University for months now. The application dates have always seemed so distant; until, of course, they creep up on you in a flash! Realising that the final registration day is only days away, I headed into 'Shi-da' to find the Mandarin Training Center and give over our documentation.

I was a little worried that we would be rejected on the basis that we don't have $US 2,500 in each of our accounts (not anytime soon, me thinks!) which was a stipulation of our approval. Likewise, I was unsure if our joint account would be accepted on the basis that its only under one name. So I headed in, a little nervous - mostly because I just couldn't imagine having this dream snuffed out, one which was strong enough to bring us to the northern hemisphere in the first.

Fortunately, however, it was all so easy! After handing over bank statements, residency documents, passports, visas, photos, transcripts and diplomas... we're set to receive our orientation information in two weeks time! As of September 1, we will officially be students of National Taiwan Normal University! Hooray!

A little drop of Oolong... Maokong, outskirts of Taipei

Dim Sum... Mmmm... Maokong

Leese, Tea and Delicious Dim Sum - Maokong Teahouse

View from the Maokong Cable Car, Sunset View over Taipei City

Youtubed- Taipei

Some interesting Youtube videos for some insights into the city in which we live:

http://www.lonelyplanet.tv/Clip.aspx?key=EA894358B9B076C5
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHa2M9QhCs0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYdak5N8K3Y&mode=related&search=

Maokong: A Little Bit of Paradise on a Lazy Sunday

At the very simplest, I think as Van Gogh said and St Francis would have said, we must find nature. Just to be in the presence of nature your feelings and 'little seedlings' start to awake. ... More and more we turn nature into a commodity, into eco-tourism. But we must integrate it into the way (we) live every day...


On Sunday, we spent a blissful morning, slipping in and out of consciousness, on the comfy tatami, taking breaks for Japanese cornflakes (not as good, damnit).

Later, in the afternoon, we met with our Taiwanese mates and headed out to the mountains surrounding Taipei City. The day's exercise was to head out to the latest addition to Taipei's public transport system - a cable car up and over the mountain range into the small tea-growing villages of Maokong.

The cable-car has copped an unbelievable amount of flack in its short time; it's had a few minor blips, but mostly, the biggest oversight seems to be the lack of air-conditioning! It's all over the news here, pandering to the large number of locals who shake their head solemnly every time it's mentioned! As it's a French design, used to transport people up the alps during the ski season, the cars have no windows and only tiny vents for air. Not particularly comfortable stuff!

Nonetheless, beautiful. Travelling up and over the city at sunset, far enough away to enjoy a little objectification too. Just gorgeous. After a twenty minute ride (for $2AUD - obscene!) we took a bus to an old teahouse once favored by one of our friends during her time at grad school.

I can't find the camera cord, but I know that even the photos won't do it all justice. We sat outside on a big wooden table, with a small latern providing light for our little alfresco space. Just like an Australian summer space, fairy lights set the scene against a night as black as anything, crickets serenading with their little tune. We didn't talk so much; just snacked on great dim sum. The unofficial priority; drinking both oolong tea and a setting unlike any other, thus far.

Sighs all round.

We once again took the cable car on the way back, which allowed us to enjoy the view once more, this time the nightscape. Again, so immensely beautiful and a great way to enjoy a city from afar, all the little beings far beneath us.

Back in the heart of the city - Taiwan is such a little island - we stopped off at one of Taiwan's greatest inventories, the xiao chi restaurant. After a session at KTV, in Taipei, people don't head to the local Maccas for that obligatory 3am snack. They head to any number of 24-hour buffet/congee restaurants, which are pumping with people at any hour of the day. These restaurants are designed to service big groups, so they provide a big saucepan of congee rice so you can enjoy the little food dishes chosen from the huge buffet downstairs. A real Taiwanese evening, no? Eating at 11pm on a Sunday night. You can see what I mean about these restaurants at one of my favorite blog sites, "A Hungry Girl's Guide to Taipei."

htttp://hungrygirlintaipei.blogspot.com.

It's all about making the time, dui bu dui?

Washing Up and CNN on a lazy afternoon

There comes a point when your body says.. enough is enough.

This afternoon, on my way to work (after a long morning of apathetic, resentful 16 year olds), my body decided it was the time to behave irrationally and squeal at the ongoing maltreatment I've been bestowing upon it. I found that I just did not have it in me to travel onwards to my next class; the first time since we've arrived, I honestly couldn't do it. The gig was up, and I knew it.

Another sigh; honestly, I'm so awful at knowing when to stop, and calling it a day. God knows that that weakness pushed me through five years of hospitality (I swear, never again). So too did it get us the muhlah to get to this great city. So it's not all bad, that's for sure. That said, I couldn't concentrate for how awful - physically overwhelmed and emotionally overburdened - I felt. The slow trundle home was the worst I've felt in a long while.

It's no surprise, really. You know things are totally unbalanced when you feel physically sick at the thought of the next day's undertaking.

So I'm here now; having cleaned our bathroom and washed our week's worth of shirts, I can feel my body resonate to the sounds of sweet domestic bliss. What's an amazing apartment if you have no time to spend in it?

Thank godness for my other half, honestly. I'm so immensely grateful for the solid foundation that is my relationship with Sim. We often try hard to find the time for each other during the hectic day; we had a lovely (if brief) lunch together today at a local vegetarian buffet. Honestly, these work hours do nothing for maintaining healthy and happy coupledom; thank godness for him, and us.

I just finished watching the Youtube Democratic Party Candidate Debate on CNN. For how utterly pathetic CNN's coverage is of world news: "And in today's news... Civilian deaths... And Tom Cruise steps out in style!" the debate was fascinating stuff. CNN covers a fair bit on what they have label 'citizen journalism' - consistently making calls for people to send in scoops and photos, typifying Murdoch's investment in that area. I've not felt in the past that this has been a legitimate attempt to diversify accountability, but rather, to monopolise on this area that will inevitably develop much further in the future. However, today's debate did seem to convey the passion for genuine change, transparency and accountability on behalf of American citizens towards their public officials. This felt like the greatest reason for optimism I've felt towards American politics over the entire course of my interest in this area; really, since 9/11.

A few qualms, however. Firstly, the focus was clearly on Obama and Hilary, which delinated from the impressive performances of the other candidates; particularly Chris Dodd, Dennis Kucinich and Bill Richardson, whose passion and expertise were quite striking. It's an impressive line-up of "diversified leadership in unity," I must say; something all too missing from, say, the ALP frontbench!

Most evident, though, was the total lack of political expertise on part of the CNN host, Anderson Cooper. From what I can tell he's somewhat the 'poster-boy' of CNN coverage (a bit like Andrew whatsis from Channel 7 - the 'Deal or No Deal' guy?) and was clearly chosen for the job of debate host for that reason. Ultimately, I can't believe that there's genuine support for a citizen's right to public accountability on behalf of the media giant when they can't see the worth in providing a mediator with a little more political grit. The guy is so clearly unaware of major areas of contention; such as, for example, how the candidates have actually voted in the Senate/Congress on major issues that they spouting off about. While each candiate was kept to time, and kept on question - as critical to a politician as a musician staying on key - you can't distract from how critical a contribution political commentators make towards genuine public accountability.

Just some thoughts. x L

"She's Only Happy in the Sun"

As I set here in our little piece of heaven, in Liuzhangli, Da-an District, Taipei City, Taiwan... I think, god I love this city.

Today I experienced the first afternoon off that I've had since beginning full-time at the school, due to a couple of cancellations. I can't say enough how strange it feels to be given a blissful reprieve after the hectic schedules we've undertaken over the course of the past two-three months. (Feels like so much longer.)

In the afternoon sun, a light breeze and little humidity, it was absolutely blissful to travel from northern Taipei City, with the majestic Yang Min Mountains in the backdrop... total serenity. Copy of Slaughterhouse 5 and Chinese books in hand... it's just a priceless, totally unique feeling.

Taipei just harbors this beauty that haven't yet really objectified - something totally unlike my experiences in mainland China, though closest to our time in Dalian, back in 2004. I felt then - and most certainly agree now - that Dalian is one of the most beautiful cities that mainland China has on offer. Perhaps a virtue of its distance from Beijing and other surrounding states, Dalian always felt like it held a beauty in itself, unreplicable, a city formed around its natural geographical features, thereby allowing its people to always maintain a sliver of sanity in their hectic working lives.

So too does Taipei harbor this beauty. A field of cosmopolitanism with a natural backdrop that never fails to render me a little speechless. Just as Carlton's trees, wide streets and overwhelming availability of lazy lattes reminded me to get out and about with my life, so too does Taipei City encourage this, when I head out daily in the direction of the mountain valley, on the way to our Shilin branch.

Perhaps its this closeness to nature that encourages a focus of liveability within the general populace. Without fail, the mountains remind me to live a life that is sustainable, in both the individual and greater sense.

And here, in a south-western corner of the bustling capital of "the beautiful isle," I can't help but smile.

Lay Down Your Arms.. Musings

Listening to the ABC today, I was fascinated by the interview held with political writer Anthony Dworkin. He has quite famously written about the debate of 'beyond right and left', arguing that "it is a fashionable illusion to suppose that the left/right distinction is obsolete. It remains the key ideological dividing line because it is not dependent on a particular set of social and political circumstances but is rooted in the central question of the purpose of collective public policy." (1)

With that view in mind, I was listening to this interview on Counterpoint (ABC Radio National):

"We (the US) have blundered badly... we need to reconstruct the conditions for world peace... How are we actually going to limit nuclear proliferation?... A great deal of disarmament is necessary, by France, Russia and the United States, and the creation of a controlled international authority that will intervene if any country, including the United States, begins multiplying its nuclear weapons..." (2)

Which made me think, quite briefly... of a lyric from an old song... "Lay down your arms."

I'm taking photos at the moment of what that means for me. I'll be brief but to note:

Armour: a) Armour is protective clothing intended to defend its wearer from intentional harm in combat and military engagements, typically associated with soldiers. Armour has been used throughout recorded history, beginning with hides, leather, and bone, before progressing to bronze, then steel during the middle ages, to modern kevlar and ceramics. (3)

b) Outer covering of organism used for protection. (4)

Armoury: A collection of resources. See also arsenal: all the weapons and equipment that a country has. (5)


(1) http://www.prospect-magazine.co.uk/article_details.php?id=8339
(2) en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armour
(3) www.reefed.edu.au/glossary/a.html
(4) wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn

Taiwan's Public Health System...Musings

Sometimes, there are those discussions with my private students that make this job an incredibly underrated one. Often, I feel as though I'm allowed to interview different representatives from different parts of Taiwanese society... while getting paid for it. It really is a wonderful experience, teaching, that is - particularly days like today, where we're not too overworked so as to enjoy it.

This afternoon I had a fascinating one hour 'interview' with one of my private students, a Medical History professional who specializes in the development of Taiwan's public health system over the 20th Century. We discussed a range of issues, both problematic and systemic, within Taiwan's public health structure and its development throughout the course of Taiwan's colonial and post-colonial periods. A discussion which began with the simple, "How was work?"

Before I explain, I really should state the 'health' is a subject that I've discussed widely in both my intermediate and advanced level English classes. It seems to me that there is a general consensus that Taiwan's health system is extremely convenient, so too the Health Insurance Program. (A government-subsidized program similar to Medicare, but with a wider range of benefits, including dental.) It goes without saying that Taiwan's public health system far exceeds the quality of anything I saw in China, and in some ways, perhaps rivals Australia.

However, some of my students seem to believe that the doctors in Taiwan (particularly those based in hospitals) have little time to make in-depth diagnoses; and fear that perhaps the quality is diminished in that regard.

My student and I began by discussing an increasingly common practice here in Taiwan; a practice whereby doctors (even medical interns) falsify medical records, ultimately making a diagnosis without the relevant examinations/test results. It's her belief that despite sworn hippocratic oaths, that doctors are so overworked that they result to such methods; essentially guessing what a patient is suffering from.

It's her view that Taiwan's medical professionals in recent decades have sought to replicate, respectively, both the American/English public health systems; notably, their focus on utilizing business/economic principles to motivate its employees. I was absolutely astonished to find out most GPs are on commission-based government salaries. In my mind, commission rates apply to vacuum-cleaner salesmen and call-centres, not public health specialists! My student emphasized that there would be a drastic difference in annual income if a doctor were able to minimize their time with each patient. Ultimately, these are economic principles attached to the most fundamental elements of civil society. How can one expect that doctors would not be swayed into opportunizing their hippocratic duties if there were offered significant economic incentives to do so?

Likewise, I brought up with my student a conversation that I had in recent days with another of my advanced students, who is training to be a nurse. While we were discussing her studies, it came up that she planned to move to the U.S. upon graduating, claiming that not only are nurses paid extremely poorly here in Taiwan, but there positions are far from venerated; a kind of "if you're so clever, then why aren't you a doctor?" approach.

I brought up this up with my student this evening, and her response was fascinating. She completely agreed that this status problem for nurses is widely held in Taiwan. In fact, so too do university entrance examinations reflect this common perception, with medicine, Chinese medicine, pharmaceuticals, and rehabilitation entrance scores far higher than those of nursing.

It's her belief that this status quo is derived from the colonial era under Japan, whereby this perception of public health professionals was carried from Japan into Taiwan. Midwives, in fact, were seen as far more worthy health professionals, and received a high level of certification and training support from the Japanese government. In fact, it wasn't until the late 1950s that the first institute for nursing was opened in Taipei.

According to my student, during the colonial era, public health was seen as an act of colonization, that is, a way to civilise the local Taiwanese people by the Japanese. Education was held in similar steed (though I won't get into that at the moment). By training public health professionals, the Japanese were able to successfully use health as both a practical necessity and a form of social advocacy, sending their message of what civilised good health should be across the face of Taiwan. In this regard, I understand fully how my student sees this to be the most critical period of change in the history of Taiwan's health system.

These trained midwives were able to successfully interact with the local Taiwanese communities to spread their message of "good health" during the colonial period. The health professionals would often work closely with the baojia of Taiwan, that is, local community/village leaders. By doing so, they were able to ensure that the Japanese governments' public health message was effectively communicated across the country.

It's fascinating, isn't it - that drastic change, if delivered through well-established channels, can be made palatable and therefore exeedingly effective...

Sometimes this job is just such an experience.

LG

Music, Youth Culture and Taiwan

Every now and then, when exploring a new topic with your students, you will be handed an unpolished gem. An idea, an insight, undefined and rough to the touch. These precious cultural moments break the somewhat repetitious cycle of teaching and exhaustion.

In Monday evening's class I was discussing music with my students. These students are at an intermediate level and can be exposed to new vocabulary with a relative degree of comfort and poise. One of the articles we examined discussed the link between violent lyrics and violent behaviour in university students. 500 students were examined the study, half were exposed to music with violent lyrics and the other half to non-violent lyrics. The predictable story goes that listeners of violent lyrics make violent associations with words that can have both non-violent and violent interpretations, whilst the latter group chose the non-violent interpretation of the word. I'm not here to discuss the accuracy of the research and findings, I am more interested in the conversation that followed.

I can only fathom that in Western countries the proliferation of sociomusic-subgroups can be accredited to many things - Ah yes, the obvious lineup of scapegoats and suspects - market fragmentation (divide and conquer), industry incubation, individualism (identity), multicultural/media influences, not to mention the throes of emancipation. Also, a strong culture of critique and experimentalism. Taiwan's sociomusic strata seems less complicated, obviously less mature. I wonder why? I know that Taiwanse film industry was subject to extreme censorship by the nationalist government of Chang Kai-Shek and that the media fulfilled a similar propagandist function to that of the mainland. A film establishment had been created for the sole purposes of the government, content producing the cliche kung-fu films in the Hong Kongnese mold and the kind of kitschy love stories that are now encapsuled in Taiwan's beloved soap operas. Perhaps the music industry is still recoverng from a similar fate?

It's hard to imagine that this hyper-consumer market has not spawned or fostered different species of teenagers, greater differentation, when a few thousand kilometres away diversity and dynamism is the hallmark of a Japanese youth culture so hellbent on individual expression, irregardless of it's depth. Despite what I read, there seems little Western pop in the Taiwanese diet or at least little expression of sociomusical subgroups like that seen on the footsteps of Flinders Street Station in Melbourne. I have seen two punks in three months. Nothing that could be classified as a hyper-masculine hip-hop culture (although I did see one such clothing store in the youth district of Ximen Ding). I see plenty of familiar, sexualized pop imagery, both in youth attitudes and in the media. In that regard the cultural landscape is being eskewed towards a familar Western bent.

In some ways Taiwan's identity, politically and socially, is in a state of flux. Learning English and the adoption of pop-culture specifies the means of escape for some Taiwanese kids, their compasses reading only West. I know I'm just scraping the surface here, but whilst Leese and I place our faces the grindstone, these gems will have to remain unpolished.

-SS

The Australian accented, tenor tones of Peter Allen

I've been to cities that never close down/From New York to Rio and old London town/But no matter how far/Or how wide I roam/I still call Australia home/I'm always travelin'/And I love bein' free/So I keep leavin' the sun and the sea/But my heart lies waiting over the foam/I still call Australia home/All the sons and daughters spinning 'round the world/Away from their families and friends/Ah, but as the world gets older and colder/It's good to know where your journey ends/And someday we'll all be together once more/When all the ships come back to the shore/Then I realize something I've always known/I still call Australia home...

Just a brief note from me tonight, I'm not sure quite how I feel about this summer schedule at the moment.

I decided after teaching quite an interesting class on music to my new summer students, to integrate this topic into some of my other, more advanced classes. I figure that there's nothing quite like having an in-depth discussion about the bridge of music across cultures.

Tommorow night I plan to use 'I Still Call Australia Home' as a listening exercise with my upper-intermediate students. Believe it or not, it's pretty easy to find a copy of the Australian Children's (or Qantas!) Choir's version on the internet, so too the original! And there's nothing else quite like the Aussie tenor tones of Peter Allen; "I love being free/and so I keep leaving the sun and the sea/but my heart lies waiting/over the foam.."

Mmm. We've so succumed to the idea of being away from home for some time yet. But nonetheless... it is a homely feeling.

Australia... women de jia... stay just as you are!

Starting from Zero?

I find it enchanting that the majority of my Taiwanese students are unaware of the Christian calendar they use to keep time - unaware of the reason why we began counting from the year 'zero' roughly 2007 years ago. Revealing the origins of the modern dating system seems to disturb some students. They seem to retort in this moment of realisation, a gentle rocking of their boats. The majority of Australians will be aware our calendar's origins, but then again I wonder how conscious they are of it's symbolism.

Unlike our modern Christian calendar which enumerates the years from the birth of Jesus Christ, the calendar of the Taiwanese government continues the Chinese imperial tradition of using a sovereign's first year to delineate time - to 'restart the clock', so to speak. In this case, the calendar represents the sovereignty of the Republic of China, beginning with it's reign (民國元年) in 1912. Counting up from 1912 we find ourselves currently in the 96th year of the Republic (民國九十六年, 民國96年). The same counting system was used in mainland China from 1912 until the founding of the PRC in 1949 following the Communist Revolution.

This calendarical system, where time is represented by the ruling sovereign of the time, is, of course, not entirely unique. The Roman calendar counted the years from the founding of the city. For example, the city of Rome was founded in 753 BC, hence the beginning of a new 'calendar era'. Furthermore, in the Roman Republic the years were not counted. Instead they were named after the Consule Ordinaris who was in power at the beginning of the year. For example, the year 60 BC was named after Quintus Caecilius Metellus Celer, the consul of the time. Our modern calendar is closely based on that implemented by Julius Caesar around the time of 46-45BC, and amended by Pope Gregory XIII in AD1582.

Even though Taiwanese culture retains the use of the Chinese lunar calendar for traditional purposes and the 'Minguo Calendar' for all non-governmental purposes, modernity demands that all Globalized (with a capital G) states adopt the Christian calendar for keeping time. It would seem these same forces are perhaps relegating the importance of these calendarical systems to the backwaters of history.

I wonder how important the Minguo calendar is to the Taiwanese identity. The connection is obvious - the calendar recognizes the sovereignty of the ROC. This is symbolism at it's most potent. Time, the magistrate, supports independence in it's current form. Yet is the Minguo calendar a dire attempt by politicians to further the imagining of an independent Taiwan in the minds of it's people? If it were no longer used, what would the consequences be?

And, again, I wonder whether our Christian calendar is any different from those forms that recognize sovereignty in their calendarical system. Subconsciously or otherwise, are we still counting the era of Christ? If yes, will there come a day when we create a new calendar marking the era of a new sovereign? Or, if the obliviousness of my students is our yardstick, has the Christian calendar been 'despiritualized'?

- SS

Leunig's Musings

"I suppose it dates back to an early childhood feeling that people weren't really saying what they were thinking. I think a lot of children grow up thinking, "Hang on, more is going on here, but people aren't saying it." I wanted to know what they really thought, what they were saying to themselves that they couldn't say out loud. People lie constantly, we all do. I think we suffer from the absence of the personal. When society lapses into the personal it gets all maudlin and inept and clumsy. Because we are not used to incorporating spontaneous, natural, truthful response...

The individual is overwhelmed by the magnitude. We have embraced technology and economic systems that are just unfathomable and massive and all-powerful. I think television is a totally destructive and corrosive medium. People are living lives though television and films and the media rather than through their own lives. They are not living creatively. They are living reactively and passively all the time. We feel we need all this stimulation, but in fact we need very little...

At the very simplest, I think as Van Gogh said and St Francis would have said, we must find nature. Just to be in the presence of nature your feelings and 'little seedlings' start to awake. So if we disassociate ourselves from God we cut nature out, too. More and more we turn nature into a commodity, into eco-tourism. But we must integrate it into the way people live every day...

My work is often therapeutic because I often give expression to this inner voice. For example, I might make a small piece about a person oppressed and ground down by tiredness. This life is actually very exhausting. It doesn't give humans much time to contemplate anything. We are not resting ourselves and there is the feeling we have got to keep working and pushing really hard. So I draw the person running and running and running-for no apparent reason. And suddenly I find that I have touched on something that is perhaps universal...

I made that piece with the total compassion I feel for what I see as a sad drift in the nature of family life in modern society, and that its infants and children who are so vulnerable are being forced onto a kind of production line of life too early. I think play, and tenderness and slowness and safety are being taken away more and more. You see I was just representing the voiceless one, the child, as I understand it. My sympathy is with the mother and child both-I understand all the different reasons for putting babies into care. One of the functions of my work is simply to try and speak for the voiceless ones, and there are many voiceless people.

...You see a society that's provided for by television is a society that says it doesn't need too many parks or natural situations for children to play in because television will look after them. So I think we, we start to construct the shape of our cities and our suburbs is built around this fact that people can be taken care of, they can be plonked in a room and absorbed in this virtual reality and reality itself becomes kind of a little bit degraded. I have a sense that it is mad making somewhere. That the quality of attention we give to each other as humans is degraded and diminished eventually with the sustained cultural usage.

...There is a kind of letting go of the particularities of this time in which I live. You start to relate more to nature. You start to identify with all cultures and all humans. The problems of existence and this whole matter of living you start to see as having been essentially the same for the past 2000 years. You begin to feel for all things from all times and places so you are no longer a creature of these times as much as you used to be: concerned with the novelties of the moment. I have been shedding the technologies, the gadgets. I don't have a television. I cook with things I have always cooked with. I believe if you can move away from the time in which you live and allow yourself to be drawn to the eternal aspects of life, and the simple tools which simplify life, then you can almost move from this life automatically into what follows in another."

- Michael Leunig (C)
www.leunig.com.au

Comment Reactivation

Upon boarding the MRT this afternoon I was given a wry look by an alternative looking, foreign woman. The woman proceeded to leer, wide-eyed at her daughter sitting opposite whilst motioning towards me with raised eyebrows. I wonder what she was thinking? Perhaps she saw a man dressed completely in black and was signing to her daughter, "It's one of those washboard mormens, with their uncooth demeanour and Reggie Mantle haircuts." I would have preferred a Johnny Cash analogy.

Comments have now been reactivated on our blog (it took us a little while to work out the language configuration for the site.) We'd love to hear from all our visitors.

好久不見

So it has been a while since Simon's mutterings appeared on this blog. Partly because teaching has left me with little to no (creative) energy. Things, however, have fallen into place in the past week and a half following the securement of a new place for Leese and I. The serenity of our new home has gone a long way to revitalizing our spirits. It could not have been better timed. As of next week our schedules will accelerate to 45hrs p/w with no brakes (pun intended.) So whilst we will be spending precious few hours here in our apartment, they will be worth their weight in gold, vis-a-vis the hours spent in a convenient but dank youth hostel; the creature comforts that hard earned money can buy.

So the teaching machine still retains it's glean, although under the hood a bit of tinkering is needed. I know the car analogy is cliche but I'll keep the stream of consciousness going. One mechanical problem is being able to stop momentum; a proper brake system or better yet gearbox. Many of the classes I currently teach are of an advanced level. With particular private students (mano e mano) I can carry a conversation without the need of material (although I always have it handy.) For example, with one young student I talked about the problems associated with emancipation. We talked about her Bhuddist beliefs and how they provided her with a different centre of gravity to that of to her peers. The student talked about the reconciliation of her vocational goals with those of her spiritual life and the strength that she garnered from her strong sense of self. The conversation flowed freely from topic to topic with the constant injection of new vocabulary into her lexicon. The critical thinking she applied to her experiences and her general ontology was/is a breath of fresh air in an otherwise claustrophobic Taiwanese environment. Don't get me wrong, this kind of student is rare in Taiwan. The ability to speak English at an advanced level, although immensely difficult for the Taiwanese learner and by which I am humbled, is not entirely rare. The ability to converse about one's life without being overly concerned about 'face' (面子) is, however, as the Chinese ESL speaker would say, seldom found. Nor am I being overly caviling of the Taiwanese learner in regards to critical thinking (If anyone wants a greater insight into this issue, you will need to ask Lisa about her conversations with a Taiwanese professor and the difficulties they face, both professionally and conceptually, in teaching critical thinking to their Taiwanese students.) Critical thinking is not a large part of Taiwanese/Chinese culture; from my understanding, the rigid, Confucian teacher-student relationship makes it difficult for Taiwanese students to engage their teachers critically. And again, for some (particularly men), the idea of losing face will further discourage students from speaking publicly (this will be emphasised if their boss or superior is in the same class as them.) Hence even advanced learners of English will be muted by the concept of 面子.

Last week I took a risk with some of my upper-intermediate, corporate students by discussing the issue of 'ethics'. The textbook from which this lesson was taken is fantastic: it incorporates a nice balance of grammatical exercises, listening/reading comprehension, conversational questions, language utilization, and problem solving. The rhetoric or ethical framework used by the authors is, however, somewhat universalistic (or Western-centric.) This becomes particularly clear in regards to ethics, which is, like it or not, culturally bound - a system of moral principles in regards to a particular group. Hence while the material discerned that nepotism, labour exploitation, and intellectual theft was unethical, my students thought quite the opposite. In the hope that my understanding of Taiwanese/Chinese culture increases, perhaps these arbitrary opinions will form part of a larger system: a Taiwanese/Chinese ethical system that has rather profound implications for universalists and international governance. Now I know this previous sentence may sound rather artless or virginial, but experiencing the weight of this difference is very different to the conceptual understanding I received at university - abstract versus experiential.

So once upon a time when this waffle began I was talking about momentum. Now, irregardless of whether students are inhibited or unwilling or to discuss their lives with a degree of humility or openness, or whether the teaching material acts as a cultural anesthetic, at an advanced level, the conversation can continue with relatively few conceptual or methodical speed-bumps. Changing gears in order to compensate for obstacles and speed-bumps, however, can prove to be the most difficult part of a teaching week. It is difficult to slow the momentum, to pump the brakes, so to speak, when oscillating between advanced students and elementary students. Without sounding paternalistic, it's hard changing from fourth to first (not healthy for the teaching engine, God help me with these metaphors!) Part of this is difficulty is selfishness: my inability to conduct little cultural experiments with enough penetration. My mind has a lot of momentum, but in practice I need to slow down and meet the needs of my students. This has positive and negative consequences for both parties.

So the problem of momentum will only accentuate as Lisa and I's schedules accomodate the demands of holidaying students. At least we now have the privilege of learning, reading, cooking and conversing inside our own home, whilst somewhat unknowingly the streets of Taipei bustle around us.

- SS

Mango season, hooray!

Mango season has well and truly begun!

Source: www.taiwannews.com.tw

101

A lovely shot from the base of the Taipei 101,

the world's tallest building

Xinyi district

Gorgeous shot of inner-city Taipei at night

Musings in Liuzhangli, Taipei City

I'm sure some of you may have received emails or text messages from us saying that we'd finally found an apartment in downtown Taipei (it's posted all over our facebook pages too, hee hee.) We've been here since Wednesday, and must say, it's really starting to influence our perspectives on daily life here.

For the first time, we have a sanctuary, a little space in a sprawling chaotic city. We're away from the street so we hear nothing of the city that bustles beneath us. We have space and beauty and comfort and cleanliness and convenience. We live in a little neighborhood which is far enough away from the universities to harbour few other foreigners, and therefore enjoys a genuine community feeling - lots of kids, oldies and little markets, a genuine Taiwanese experience. We walk out our door and buy our mangoes from a little stand whose owner puts own his noodle bowl - though not his cigarette - to charge us for it. (The market is not unlike those at the Queen Vic, though a little more haphazardly placed).

Being in the south-east of the city centre, the world's tallest building - the Taipei 101 - looms large above us as we take the three-minute stroll to the Metro.

Simon had a couple of spare hours on Friday and headed down to the local Ikea. He bought some lovely homey things, both aesthetic and practical. Honestly, the things he bought - like a gorgeous white vase with beautiful white and purple flowers, tall enough to highlight the high ceilings - are such Simon's style. He often reminds me of Robyn in that way - clearly a knack for interior decorating! The way in which he organises his personal space has become something so familiar to me, a real sign of my home-life.

So there's picture frames of us and our favourite books lined up along our shelves... what a dramatic shift. We're certainly in this for the long-haul.

It's a little confronting, actually, seeing the same neighbours on my walk home each night, exchanging smiles and glances of burgeoning recognition. This morning we ate breakfast - a total experience here, totally worth skipping museli for - at a little sandwich and tea house, dining out on egg sandwiches and OJ out on the street. The lady who owned the place could speak English (in fact, she had her Master's degree, so her English-language skills were quite good!). She asked if we lived in the neighbourhood and seemed so pleased that we lived in the area, saying, "oh, that's great, we're neighbours!" It really doesn't get more welcoming than times like that, especially as she offered us a complimentary sandwich afterwards and said that she was looking forward to seeing us again.

Likewise, next door to our building live an elderly couple who run a scooter repair shop (which, courtesy of the sheer number of scooters that dominate the landscape, can be found on every corner.) Our landlord kindly introduced us to them on the first night that we arrived. Since then, it's a great feeling coming home, wandering past the shop and seeing their big smiles as we yell out a hearty "nin hao!". Welcome to the neighbourhood.

In fact, this afternoon we officially signed our one-year lease, which begins tommorrow.

This Thursday begins our summer class schedule. This will be the insane two-month period in which Simon and I work 10-12 hour days, six days a week, in order to deal with the huge intake of students that our school takes on over the summer vacation. (Makes me think of Australian lazy summers down at Carnegie pool, Chadstone shopping centre, lazing about inside watching daytime TV and hanging out with friends... not a common experience here! Instead, students are sent by their parents to intensive English classes until they go back to school for the new semester.)

The summer will allow us to make a ridiculous amount of money by student-standards (a bit like the slog we did in our mutual crummy jobs before we left). It will no doubt render us totally burnt-out by the time it's over. This will mean that we can put the money that we save away for travelling after Taiwan, and be able to pay for our Chinese class-semester at National Taiwan Normal University, which begins on September 1. We're still harbouring dreams of seeing the Lhasa Palace and the Taj Mahal before we come home!

On that note, as I sit here I know that my body is squealing at how inadequate I've been at keep myself healthy in the past month or so. I'm convinced that now we have a fridge and a house that will change! And we're so ready for it.

In fact, we're so ready for this moment. To finally immerse ourselves in Chinese cultural heritage in a beautiful city with a people who are so free-thinking, open-minded, welcoming and overwhelmingly friendly. Taiwan is the Chinese experience I had always hoped for, and as each passes, I feel closer and closer to the little isle of Formosa, the underdog of the Far East.

Ten Years Since the Handover

A pro-democracy protestor waves the Taiwanese flag in front of local policemen yesterday at a demonstration against the tenth anniversary of China's takeover of Hong Kong.

Source: www.taiwannews.com.tw

In light of today's official ten-year anniversary of the return of Hong Kong to the PRC, the debate surrounding the ever-potent relationship between Taiwan and China seems particularly relevant. Though, I have serious reservations about likening Hong Kong to Taiwan, whose histories diverge at key points throughout the region's recent history.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow's English-language editorials!

Taiwan looks askance at Hong Kong's handover formula
By Ralph Jennings June 24, 2007
Source: www.boston.com

TAIPEI (Reuters) - When China's late leader Deng Xiaoping dreamt up the "one country two systems" formula for Hong Kong, he had a bigger prize in mind: Taiwan.

Deng's vision had the former British colony serving as a model of how Taiwan, which Beijing considers a wayward province, would be run if it returned to the fold -- a high degree of autonomy, a separate currency, and even democratic elections. But a decade after Britain handed Hong Kong back to Beijing, most people in Taiwan are unimpressed.

Scholars and island officials say that democratically self-ruled Taiwan would suffer more politically than it would gain economically if it was reunified with Communist-ruled China under Deng's formula.

"For the Taiwan public, there's no market for 'one country, two systems'," said Liu Te-shun, vice chairman of the government's Mainland Affairs Council. Freedom and democracy have suffered in Hong Kong since the return, Liu said, and the use of "China" to label Hong Kong also detracts from its global image as an international city. "From a big-picture point of view over these past 10 years, we're still pretty worried."

Critics say that since the 1997 handover Hong Kong has seen self-censorship by media eager to please Beijing, holes in its legal system and a lack of full democracy. And, although Beijing pledged 50 years of political autonomy and a capitalist economy, the Communist Party has stepped in to interpret Hong Kong's post-handover constitution three times since 1997.

One bright spot some see is that tighter ties with the mainland have helped Hong Kong tap into China's economic boom... But Taiwan's government, run by a party advocating more distance from China and a separate Taiwan identity, is quick to point out political shortcomings in Hong Kong.

China has seen staunchly self-ruled Taiwan as part of its territory since Mao Zedong's Communists routed the Nationalist Party (KMT) in a civil war that ended in 1949.

After decades of turmoil under authoritarian rule, Taiwan evolved into a multi-party democracy starting in the 1980s. Today every adult on the island of 23 million people can vote, and the mass media have been named the freest in Asia.