What Happens in France . . .

Some more random experiences from our recent trip to France.

Prior to going to France, we didn't know if our apartments would have soap or not, so Stephanie decided to bring a little with us. Why buy more when you can save money using what you already have, right? Well maybe we sometimes go a little overboard with our efforts to conserve a few pennies. I don't think of us as cheapskates, it's just that if we save money on the little stuff—like darning holy socks—then we can afford the big stuff—like a night out at the Costco Food Court.

Rather than taking an entire soap bar, Stephanie instead found some decorative soap carved into a flower. What else are you going to use something like that for? Sure enough, our second apartment had no soap. I dutifully retrieved the flower and started lathering up in the shower. Unfortunately, I quickly learned that it wasn't regular soap. Instead it turned into Play Dough when wet. It instantly stuck to my skin like a plaster sarcophagus. It was like the spray-on shoes in Cloudy Without Meatballs, except I had it everywhere, and it pretty much took a putty knife to remove. But I did smell like flowers afterwards. Sometimes cheapness doesn't pay.

It's somewhat mandatory to see the Mona Lisa if you go to France. And that means a trip to the Louvre Museum—and of course getting there before the crowds do. We got up very early one morning to catch an early metro to the museum district. We entered the museum from the secret, hidden door in the underground metro stop. We rushed through the mall and after a few wrong turns, ended up about tenth in line at the security screening, ready for the doors to open. We'd done great so far, but still had to get through security, past the ticket checker, and find our way to the special hall dedicated to Mrs. Lisa.

As soon as the gates pulled open, we set off at full speed. We clawed our way upstairs and flashed our passes at the ticket station. I navigated with the map while Stephanie threw elbows. We finally made it to the Grand Gallery, dashed through the hall, and ended up in fourth place, standing in front of the most famous painting in the world.

Taking a picture of people taking pictures of a picture

And were we ever disappointed! She really isn't much to look at. Her colors are all faded, she's quite small, her smile looks forced, and she's behind a wall of reflective glass that makes it impossible to take a good photo. So we just started laughing that we'd basically just committed several crimes and got there first to see something so underwhelming. The others there all laughed with us. It was like we'd just scored a major victory and our prize was a pack of Pez. So we turned around and took pictures of everyone else taking photos of Mona. That was more entertaining.

As we headed towards the airport on our last day in France, a giant flying insect attacked our train car. Not from the outside—that would have been okay. Rather, it emerged from an A/C vent near Stephanie's head and flew around the inside. It was a bee, about two centimeters long. And it flew very fast. Each time it dive bombed towards a group of passengers, they'd all scream and duck, in that order. Thankfully, it headed towards the far end of the car. Within minutes, though, it swung back around for a second run.

It soared straight for Stephanie again, just missed her, then hid behind our chair. The only thing worse than a giant bee you can see is one you can't. We leaped from our chairs as the whole train watched with horror. The bee slowly crawled out from behind the bench and stared us down. Not wanting to lose the advantage, I switched to offense and pounced with my shoe. A collective gasp sounded throughout the car and everyone held their breath while I stood away to assess the damage. It was down, but not out. I had to squish twice more to complete the kill. Finally, it was finished. So we all pulled out our phones and took pictures of the valiant dead bee.

Ministry, Monarchy, and Military

I'm in the Latin Quarter of Paris right now, sitting in a two thousand-year-old Roman coliseum and watching kids play football in the same spot where gladiators fought lions in the first century A.D. I wonder if the kids know that. This is right across the street from our apartment, and was an unexpected find when we arrived.

We've spent the past few days wandering around Paris and visiting both the touristy and the "true Parisian" spots. I've come away with an interesting impression: the history of France is characterized by the power of ministry, monarchy, and military. I'm sure France is not alone in this.

A Notre Dame Gargoyle

The great Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris shows the power of the ministry. I'm absolutely awestruck by the incredible workmanship of a building that's withstood eight hundred fifty years of wars and weather. The architecture outside and the artwork inside are humbling. We climbed up to the bell tower and petted the very gargoyles from the Disney movie. I'm sure of it. But like the cathedral in Rouen, again I'm left wondering if the purpose of the building was to encourage piety and faith and bring people closer to God, or was it to inspire fear and awe of the clergy. I'm not being critical of the Catholic Church, because I think religion has always been used as a means to promulgate power around the world in many faiths and cultures. I just question the point of such a grand structure, while at the same time I greatly admire it.

But at least many in the ministry tried to help those in their care who needed it, whereas those in the monarchy just seemed to abuse the commoner. We visited the Palace of Versailles and saw the power of the crown. That's another building that shows the great ingenuity and artisanship of the French people. It's beautiful and HUGE. The whole thing was designed to enforce the idea of deifying King Louis XIV. After seeing the excess of this monstrosity, I can understand why it all led to a revolution. Now in France the commoner probably has TOO much power, with their daily strikes and demonstrations. Personally, though, I'm glad the everyday person has that ability now, as obnoxious as it sometimes can be.

Louis XIV Trampling His Enemies

Like most of the world, France has a bloody military history of war after war after war. In the Battle Room at the palace, there are large paintings depicting many of the battles France has fought, the first one in about 600 A.D. Most all the paintings show a victorious general on a horse, with dead or dying enemies at his feet. It's not a pretty sight. In the U.S., France has an undeserved reputation as a pacifist nation. After seeing all these terrible battles, I think I much prefer avoiding war, not jumping into one. Too bad more nations don't feel the same way.

Maybe we should bring the leaders of warring nations to this coliseum and have them battle it out themselves.

Living the Artist's Life

We spent the past few days in the charming port city of Honfleur, in Upper Normandy. Apparently, someone named Monet also spent time here and drew a few pictures. I don't know if Monet made the town famous or the the town made him famous. But I'm hoping the town has some magical effect on those pursuing a career in the creative arts. If I'm famous soon, we'll know it worked.

We stayed in a rustic, old apartment with a private courtyard. By rustic, I mean a little dusty with the occasional bug stopping in for a visit. But it was a nice place and despite its small size, I'm sure it will seem like a mansion once we check into the tiny flat we've reserved in Paris.

 

Honfleur is definitely worth the cost of a train ticket! The tiny, curved streets of narrow buildings with exposed timbers takes one back a few hundred years. I would have liked to live back then and apply for the job of town crier. That would be much better than plague body remover.

Unlike other places where you often look for a specific scenic attraction, in Honfleur the town itself is what you come to experience. Although some of it is certainly touristy, much is still traditional and welcoming. On Sunday morning, we hiked up to Côte de Grâce, which sits on a short hill with a good view of the town and the Seine River. There's a monument on the hill honoring Her Lady of Grace for her protection during the Normandy Invasion when many other towns were destroyed.

We also came across a small chapel on the hill, Notre-Dame de Grâce. It had no bell tower, and instead they built a bell rack next to the church. We happened to arrive at noon just as the bells began their concert. It was fun to actually see the bells rather than just hear them up in a distant tower.

We are very much tourists here. We take pictures of doorknobs and mailboxes. But it's still fun to be a part of the culture and meet new people. As we ate dinner one evening, a young man sitting next to us turned around with a look if curiosity on his face. He was of Chinese descent and surprised to hear Mandarin and American English spoken with native accents. His Chinese name has a great English translation—Iron Breaker. I think he's actually a super hero in disguise.

I'm a little sad to leave the peaceful countryside and head back to the noise and busyness of Paris. But we've reserved an apartment, so we're on our way. I'm just glad it's by train, not another claustrophobic plane.

A City Made Famous By Executing a Righteous Babe

Stephanie and I are celebrating our twenty-fifth anniversary this month, so we decided to do something extra special—we signed up with an outfitter to go on an archery moose hunt. You should see Stephanie all decked out in camo with her bow and knife, and her face painted green.

Actually, the outfitter was booked, so we got plane tickets to France instead. This weekend we're near the northern coast in the Normandy Region and right now we're on a train going through a rural area filled with cows and sheep and of course a chapel in every little town. Last night we stayed in the medieval city of Rouen. Growing up in a city where the oldest buildings are barely one hundred years old, it's pretty cool to see structures that have been around hundreds, and even a thousand years or more.

The Notre Dame Cathedral in Rouen is one of those. This isn't the one from the Disney show—we'll see that one next week. This is a different one without a famous bell-ringing resident. But even this one is a very impressive structure. The craftsmanship of the artisans and laborers that threw this thing together is awe-inspiring. The thing that struck me most though, was this: you gotta figure that in today's dollars, this edifice must have cost millions. And those millions were spent at a time when there was a lot of suffering in the world. I wonder if any nonbelievers back then—or believers, for that matter—pondered if the money and effort might be better spent on something else. In any case, it's a beautiful building.

In the evening, we heard about a light show at the cathedral. I figured at most we'd just see a few lasers painting designs on the walls. Boy, was I ever wrong. They had a fantastic display of light, music, and sound effects that went on for an hour.

They projected the images onto the facade and told the history of France with all its wars and one of the most awesome women of all time—Joan of Arc. Or as Bill (or was it Ted) described her: a totally triumphant babe. If we saw nothing else our whole time here, it was worth coming all the way to France just for that! Madame of Arc, by the way, was burned at the stake in that very town, down the street from the cathedral, apparently with the help of some clergy members.

I'm sure the original builders of the cathedral never had a computer-synchronized light show in mind when they stacked all those rocks together. Maybe it was worth the effort after all. Do you think Miss of Arc would approve?

Adventures in Eating

In most cultures around the world, eating together is an important part of social life. Unfortunately, especially in the West, we’re usually too busy to take part in what’s often referred to as Slow Food. Instead, we rush up to the fast food window, grab some unhealthy, fat-laden grub, then eat while we’re driving and cursing other drivers.

When my wife, Stephanie, first came to America, she commented a couple times about how life here seems different than what she expected. One day we stopped at 7-Eleven and grabbed a few items. When we left, I attempted to steer through traffic with my knee while holding a Big Gulp in one hand and a big donut in the other. Stephanie started laughing and said, “Now this is how I always pictured the American lifestyle.”

I enjoy cooking, but I’m not really that good at it and often don’t have the patience to make something really fancy. Stephanie is a good cook, but when you’re forced to cook every day, it gets to be kind of a drag. The worst part is deciding what to cook. Despite all that, we’ve tried to make a point of ensuring our family eats meals together, preferably home-cooked meals, whenever possible. I think that’s made a big difference in our family’s health and relationships, if for no other reason than it gives us time each day to complain to each other about stuff.

On our recent trip to Taiwan, we had opportunities to slow down and eat some awesome meals in very unusual locations. And not all of those were fancy, sit-down restaurants.

In the northern port city of Keelung 基隆, we stopped at a McDonald’s to buy french fries for Tian Tian, because that always makes him happy. Plus we wanted to use their air conditioner for a few minutes. Just outside the McDonald’s door, we met a young lady selling small pancakes shaped like various sea creatures. She stood out there in the hot weather most every day from morning until evening, making and selling these little cakes. It may not seem like a glamorous career, but she sure came across as happy and cheerful. And it made us happy after we bought a couple bags from her and had fun guessing what the creatures were.

Also in Keelung, we stopped at a noodle house where they made their own noodles. The kitchen stretched out onto the sidewalk, which Tian Tian found very interesting, so he took a picture with the cooks. He’s a picky eater, but he ate his entire bowl of noodles. Consuming noodles that are both temperature hot and spicy hot on a day that is very humid hot, seems a little counterintuitive. My son-in-law Colton made mention of that several times on our trip. But it sure tasted good!

In the kitchen of the noodle house, which was actually the sidewalk.

You can’t go to Keelung without visiting the famous Miaokou Night Market 基隆廟口夜市 which actually runs all day long. We ordered fruit drinks that are sort of like Slurpees, but a lot tastier and made with real fruit (no HFCS!). Each of us mixed and matched our own creation. Aarim’s mango pineapple turned out to be the best choice.

Icy Fruit Treats in the Miaokou Night Market

One day we ate with the whole extended family, in celebration of my mother-in-law’s eighty-fifth birthday. To be honest, the restaurant food wasn’t really that awesome, but it sure was fun eating with all our relatives, especially for such an important occasion. Tian Tian liked eating the whole fish, head included—he’s not picky about that. Most of us may forget what we ate that day, but we’ll always remember how happy Grandma was with her family around her.

Fish head dinner!

We had another meal with—and I’m not making this up—Stephanie’s classmates from her elementary school! She’s kept in touch with them all these years and it’s usually a good meal that brings them all together. They’re an interesting group, including a former pop singer and famous director, a well-known and much-sought-after fertility specialist, the owner of one of the largest tech companies in the whole country, among others, and of course a few normal people like Stephanie and I.

I mentioned in another post about our dinner at the Hualien Rainbow Night Market. The vegetables were great, the steak was so-so, but the atmosphere was something we’ll never forget. Night markets are always noisy, with a million different odors competing for attention, and you really feel like you’re not in Kansas anymore. We kind of had to toss aside any preconceptions about restaurant cleanliness standards. But maybe that’s why it all tasted good.

Steak and vegetable dinner at the Rainbow Night Market

It doesn’t take a fancy meal to make you happy. One afternoon, we took a gondola ride up to the small tea village of Maokong 貓空 in the mountains near Taipei. On that hot and humid day, the best thing was fresh-squeezed lemonade. And Maokong has a great view of terraced tea fields stretched out below, with the hazy city below that. Riding back down, we chose the Eyes of Maokong car, which has a glass bottom allowing you to see straight down. With the wind blowing the car around, it was definitely a butt-clenching experience.

Lemonade at Maokong

We can’t forget the “fun” food. One of the funnest and tastiest is the giant mango ice cream cones. Aarim got one at the Danshui 淡水 waterfront near Fisherman’s Wharf 漁人碼頭. It’s not easy to eat that much ice cream before it all melts in the tropical heat without getting a major brain freeze in the process.

Giant mango ice cream cone

My sister-in-law Liu-Ming took us to a Cajun restaurant one evening. Who would expect you could find good bayou food in the middle of Taipei? It’s a very outward-looking, cosmopolitan city, though, and you can find everything from Nigerian to Brazilian to KFC. Some has been Sinicized, but much is very authentic. My first date with Stephanie was at a KFC in Taipei.

The authentic Shaanxi restaurant

There are two meals from our trip that really stand out. One was in a restaurant near my mother-in-law’s house specializing in Shaanxi food. They’d designed the restaurant to look like a traditional shop, with curved portals and rough walls covered in graffiti. I really felt like I’d apparated to the middle of Xi’an. The food itself tasted great and further transported us to an exotic locale. And your neighborhood Costco food court definitely doesn’t have lamb kabobs, tree fungus, or duck blood soup on the menu.

Shaanxi duck blood soup. Poor ducks.

My favorite meal of the whole trip, though, was in the mountains of northern Taiwan, at the small town of Zhuzihu 竹子湖, with our immediate family and my sister-in-law, Olive. The town is famous for its Alocasia flowers 海芋花 that bloom beautifully each May. We missed the blooming display, but I specifically wanted to go to this restaurant after Olive took us there a year earlier.

Lunch at the Zhuzihu restaurant with Aunt Olive. Yum!

The restaurant at Zhuzihu is in the subtropical forest surrounded by cypress trees, bamboo, and giant ferns. The cicadas that time of year are incredibly loud, to the point you sometimes can’t hear one another speak. The short video below gives a sample of the sounds. Be sure to put on headphones and turn it up loud!

A soft breeze blows through the forest around the restaurant, just enough to make it comfortable. The tables surround a small koi pond and overlook the town below. It’s one of the more exotic and beautiful locations I’ve ever been to. A surprising quirk was the music they played—classic western jazz. Sitting there, surrounded by family and the forest, eating great food, while listening to cicadas and jazz, is definitely something I want to do every time I visit Taiwan.

Sometimes, I guess, it’s not really the meal itself that matters.

The Glory of Meditation

Eternal Spring Shrine

At the end of our recent excursion to Taroko National Park in Eastern Taiwan, we neared the bottom of the gorge and spotted Eternal Spring Shrine, a Buddhist edifice built on the mountain above a waterfall. It was quite a sight. But when we saw the crowds of tourists (mostly from mainland China) we had second thoughts about taking the short hike to view it. In the end, we chose to take pictures from a distance, then headed back down the mountain.

We neared the main road and saw a sign for a different Buddhist monastery, but noticed no vehicles heading up that direction. We figured what the heck, why not check it out? It turned out to be a great choice—it was a highlight of our entire trip to Taiwan.

Chan Guang Monastery 禪光寺

We arrived at the Chan Guang Temple 禪光寺 late in the afternoon, and there was only one other car in the whole parking lot.

Chan Guang probably has many translations, but I think an apt rendition is The Glory of Meditation. The temple itself sits up on a hill, above a wide staircase and surrounded by the dense subtropical forest common in Taiwan. And of course, the everpresent singing of cicadas.

The grounds at Chan Guang

The temple grounds had sparse, but well-groomed bushes, lotus pots, orchids, incense censers, and lamps.

We wandered around the empty plaza and took pictures of the beautiful surroundings and of each other. After the crowds of the other tourist spots in Taroko, this was a wonderfully refreshing retreat.

The forest around Chan Guang

Nobody pushed us out of the way. Nobody jumped in front of our camera as we posed. And nobody tried selling us anything.

As we relaxed, I kept hearing the sound of Buddhist meditation chants and so decided to investigate. The music got louder as I climbed to the third floor. At the top, a large meditation chamber with three giant golden Buddha statues overlooked the whole valley. I’d hoped to see monks chanting, but I guess they’d retired for the day. Instead, they had a recording of the chanting monks. And it wasn’t a cheesy tape player, either. It was a powerful sound system with concert-quality speakers, and the hall had awesome acoustics.

It’s hard to understate the beauty and peace one felt while standing in that large hall, listening to the mesmerizing chants, overlooking the steep, green hills as clouds floated past the nearby peaks. I wanted to set up a lawn chair and just camp out forever.

Bridge and stairs up to the bell tower

We eventually decided to leave but noticed a long suspension bridge stretched out over the river. And again we thought, what the heck, let’s see where it leads. So Aarim and Roro led me across the bridge (“Weight limit, 5 people”) and we discovered a path and stairs leading up the mountain on the opposite side. After a short hike, we found ourselves at a bell tower with a commanding view of Chan Guang Temple and the river valley.

Bell tower above Chan Guang

All I can say about this whole excursion is, Wow! Had we not thought to take a less-used road away from the tour buses, we’d never have had such a memorable experience.

On the bell tower, overlooking Chan Guang Temple

Kungfu Panda & Pagodas

I’m sitting in the Narita Airport with a three-hour layover, so I might as well put my time to good use and do some writing. Our family is returning from a two-week trip in Taiwan to visit my in-laws and do a little sightseeing. I could write many pages about this whole trip, but today I’ll just tell about an excursion we took to Taroko National Park on the east coast. Many people consider this an obligatory trip when visiting Taiwan. But despite all the times our family has been to the island, this is the first time to Taroko.

To get there, we took a three-hour train ride through beautiful, green scenery and many, many tunnels. I love train rides like this, especially the exotic scenery and small towns. We passed through the coastal city of Luodong, where I lived for several months a long time ago—one of my most favorite places I’ve ever lived. It’s a town built around a large park, with the park being the center of most activity. That tends to add a sense of casualness to life in the city. It’s like having a big front porch on your house.

Taroko is accessed from the city of Hualien, a comfortable town right on the coast. Taiwan lies on the edge of the continental shelf of Asia and Hualien is on the edge of Taiwan. That means the deep ocean is very near by. That fact is very apparent when typhoons arrive. Big cruise ships and container haulers ply the waters just off the coast.

Our first night in Hualien, we chose to eat in the Rainbow Night Market. That sounds kind of cool, and I suppose it is. But the sanitary conditions in a rural night market are, shall we say, far below typical Boy Scout camp levels. We sat at a lopsided table with a sticky coating from previous patrons, where a contingent of flies and mosquitos joined us. It would make my loving mother cringe, but it’s the type of experience we’ll always remember. Plus, we sat near a very chunky dog who I’m convinced couldn’t move under his own power. He had his very own special chair and a dedicated fan blowing on him the whole time. It was cute, but reminded me of the humans in Wall-E.

The next day we drove up the canyon to Taroko. It’s a beautiful area with an impressive limestone canyon that’s been hardened by tectonic movement into marble. (I know this, because Wikipedia told me.) The walls shoot up high above the road and drop precipitously down into the gorge just a few feet from the edge of the pavement. It’s definitely worth a visit!

We took a several short hikes through the subtropical forest, where it’s always fun to see the insect and arachnid life, and sweat a few gallons in the humidity. We ate lunch at another sticky table in a traditional aboriginal village. The unique, ancient culture—dating back thousands of years—was very apparent in our menu of Chips Ahoy and Pringles, and in the shrine dedicated to Jeremy Lin.

The Tian Xiang area at the top of the Taroko Gorge draws the most visitors. There’s a small village with shops and restaurants, and a very long flight of stairs leading to a seven-tier pagoda high above village, and another spiral staircase that leads to the top of that. It’s kind of like the temple in Kungfu Panda and the stairs that lead down to the Special Ingredient Noodles. Except there wasn’t a talking panda, unfortunately.

Many people choose to take photos of the pagoda from a distance, especially when it’s so hot and humid. But our kids wouldn’t stand for that. Aarim and Roro led me up all those stairs to the top tier of the pagoda. It provided an impressive view of the surrounding area, but more importantly, a refreshing, strong wind. We had cell reception so we called my wife who waited down in the village with Tian Tian.

He answered and we watched his orange shirt bobbing across the village like a tiny lady bug as he ran around looking for Stephanie. Once he found her, they looked up and saw us waving down from the pagoda high above them, like little praying mantises.

After all that, we had another interesting adventure on the way down the canyon. But I’ll leave that for another posting.

Making Friends in Exotic Places

Last fall, we made a sort-of-last-minute trip to Athens, Greece to take care of an eye condition for my younger son, Tian Tian. When you think of medical tourism, Athens isn’t the first place that comes to mind. In fact, people there often raised their eyebrows and said, “We usually go to your country for that.” But for our son’s condition—keratoconus—one of the best corneal surgeons in the world happens to work in Athens. I’m glad he works there and not, say, Syria.

Our neighbors in Athens

We found an apartment through Airbnb and chose to live like regular Athenians, or rather Athenians that couldn’t speak Greek. It was fun living in a normal neighborhood, shopping at the supermarkets and bakeries, and acting like we’d lived there our whole lives—except we got lost a few times. Plus, it was a lot cheaper than a hotel. During our ten days there, nearby shop owners and residents started to recognize us and wave at us like old friends. It’s the kind of place I could definitely live long term, though the air quality was a little iffy.

After Tian Tian’s eye procedure, the doctor wanted to see him every day, which meant we couldn’t take any trips to the beach or the countryside. But we had a little free time, and Tian Tian recuperated quickly, so we decided to visit the local sites—you can’t go all the way to Greece and not do at least a little sightseeing. One afternoon, we went to the big Acropolis Museum, the Parthenon, the Theatre of Dionysus, the Roman Agora, and other ancient and very Greece-ey places.

It seems you can’t take more than a few steps in Athens without tripping over something ancient. One restroom had a ruin right in the middle of the floor—they just built a glass ramp over it so you could bask in the glory of Ancient Greek culture while taking care of other business.

After spending the afternoon visiting lots of old stuff, we decided to head back to our little apartment and cook dinner like normal, non-tourist folks do, so as to not strain Tian Tian too much. Before heading to the bus stop, we found ourselves in Monastiraki Square as the sun set and the full moon rose, surrounded by tourists, locals, and the sounds and scents of Greek culture and food. It was tough to leave such an exotic and beautiful scene, so we bought chicken gyros, barbecued corns-on-the-cob, and drinks, then sat down on the steps to enjoy the atmosphere.

A very talented young man started a live concert, playing about a dozen different types of flutes. The ethereal sounds of his music floated through the crowds and echoed off the buildings. The full moon brightly lit the busy square. The Parthenon glowed on its perch above us, overlooking the city like a friendly sentinel. And the gyros and corn tasted great.

Tian Tian's New Best Friend from Somalia

As we sat there listening to the music, a small crowd of African immigrants slowly gathered on the stairs around us, also enjoying the concert and drinking a lot of beer. One man in his thirties started a conversation with Tian Tian and the two became instant friends—our son seems to have that affect on people. We couldn’t understand all of his English, but he told how he was orphaned in Somalia when younger, and later came to Greece looking for work. (He picked a rather inopportune time, given Greece’s economic issues.) He had a brother with a disability similar to Tian Tian’s, who has Down Syndrome. I don’t know how much of his story was true, or how much of it was the beer talking, but he was a very friendly guy and helped Tian Tian forget the problems with his eyes and how tired his legs were.

Given that we were in a foreign country, surrounded by immigrants of another culture and language, and it was well after dark, I think some people might have been nervous in a situation like that. Well, maybe I’m just naïve and like to see the good in people, but I felt very safe and comfortable there. In fact, if Tian Tian wasn’t so tired, I would have wanted to stay there all evening, listening to the flutes and talking with our new friends.

We eventually took a very harrowing taxi ride back to our apartment and retired for the night. But I’ll always remember the evening our family of three from America joined a small crowd of Somalis in downtown Athens listening to flute music under the full moon.

Urban Jungle Assault

Did you know the Tropic of Cancer runs through the country of Taiwan? That simple fact placed the sun at it’s northern-most latitude—directly above Taiwan—right when we decided to visit our extended family there last June. In fact, I think the sun followed us around whenever we stepped outside.

Taiwan is an island nation which by definition means “surrounded by lots of water.” And that water comes up from the south as part of the warm Kuroshio Current. We definitely noticed the sun and humidity. Near-100-degree (37c) temperatures and near-100-percent humidity make for a climate very different from the high deserts and alpine mountains in northern Utah. But despite coasts that are, obviously, at sea level, the central mountains rise up nearly as high as those in Utah—13,000 feet (4,000m). So imagine going from sea level up to 13,000 feet and back down in the space of 90 miles (145km). That would be a tough bicycle ride.

All of this makes for interesting geography and climate, which in turn make it an interesting place for outdoor activities. The humid heat drenched us as soon as we stepped out the door, but the low elevation in the cities and coasts made it hard to get much of a cardio workout.

Despite all that, my daughter Roro and I attempted to stay in shape through a regimen of urban jungle running. Our first daytime assault left us dripping wet before we even crossed the street, so we later decided to escape the daylight sauna and run after sunset.

On the stairs overlooking the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial grounds

The sprawling Chiang Kai Shek memorial park 中正紀念堂 is a couple blocks from my mother-in-law’s house. There we found a crowd of other runners circumnavigating the grounds each night. The outer sidewalk provided an easier run, but a guerilla strike through the tropical trees and koi ponds of the park’s interior proved much more interesting. A few times we forced a full frontal attack on the long stairs leading up to the memorial—Roro did much better at that than I.

On a short trip down the west coast, we tried another inner-city blitz in the morning rush hour streets of Hsin Chu 新竹. We ended up dodging a minefield of smog-choked traffic. That proved entertaining and we moved a lot faster than the cars did, but I think the damage to our lungs outweighed the benefits.

The thick foliage around Mingchih

Our best offensive occurred in the mountains near a small resort area called Ming Chih 明池. The elevation there was low by Rocky Mountain standards, around 4,000 feet (1,200m), but the lack of vehicles and soup-bowl humidity of the cities made it much more comfortable. We started just after sunset and weaved along a narrow road surrounded by foliage so thick you could never get through it without a chainsaw. Or napalm. The cicadas hummed their noisy songs in a deafening symphonic rhythm. Bats darted through the skies above us. Few scenes could be more peaceful and relaxing—until we startled a sleeping dog that howled and made us slam into each other.

All of this was an attempt to maintain some level of fitness so we could run the Spartan Beast a few days after we returned home. Going from three-and-a-half weeks living at sea level to running a 12-mile (19km) obstacle race at 5,500 feet (1,700m) ended up being a bad decision—the Spartan was very grueling!

Mist-filled mountains around Mingchih

Foreign Tooth Fairies

Proudly missing a valuable tooth

A number of years ago, we traveled as a family to visit my in-laws in Taiwan. While there, my younger daughter Roro had a loose tooth fall out. She immediately got justifiably worried because she didn’t think the tooth fairy would visit her in Taiwan. We explained how the tooth fairy visits ALL children, but that led to a big discussion because her cousins hadn’t received visits from the tooth fairy before, and in fact had never even heard of the tooth fairy—we had to explain the whole concept to them.

Roro got even more worried. She didn’t think Taiwan had a tooth fairy and even if she was there, she probably wasn’t very good because nobody knew about her.

But she went to bed anyway, and carefully placed the tooth under her pillow where the lame Taiwan tooth fairy would hopefully find it. She didn’t have much hope, though, and thought the tooth fairy would certainly leave her empty-handed.

Then a dental miracle happened.

It seems that Roro’s aunts were also worried the tooth fairy wouldn’t arrive, so they decided to help out. Without telling anyone else—including each other—they each crept into the room and added a little of their own money under the pillow. This went on all night, with people sneaking into the room and adding to the pile.

The next morning, as we all sat in the living room talking, we heard some very excited sounds coming from Roro’s room. She came running out with a big wad of cash in her hands.

With a huge smile on her face, she proclaimed, “The Taiwan tooth fairy is WAY better than the American tooth fairy!”

Village People

It’s been a while since I posted here, so I thought I’d re-start with a very intellectually stimulating story. A number of years ago, I participated in a humanitarian trip to a small village in eastern Indonesia. Our group of about twenty included retirees, teens, and many in between. We busied ourselves during the day helping install a clean water system for the villagers. In the evenings, we relaxed, spent time with the locals, and shared in each others cultures. Looking back at this experience, it was really a highlight in my adult life, especially the story I’m about to relate.

With no electricity in the village except for a small generator, the community center had the only lights, so we’d often gather there after dinner. One evening, I joined a couple high school kids from our group and we sat on a fence near the community center with several twenty-something men from the village. The villagers didn’t speak English and we didn’t speak Indonesian, but we had fun trying to hit things with rocks, attempting to stand on the fence posts with one leg, and other guy things.

Meanwhile, two high school girls from our group, who happened to be sisters, stood on the outside steps of the community center trying to teach a group of villagers an English song. They’d chosen the classic If You’re Happy and You Know It. I’m sure you’ve heard this one: If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands (everyone claps), etc. They struggled getting the point of the song across, since nobody spoke English, but the villagers all readily joined in clapping their hands, stomping their feet, flapping their arms, and other entertaining actions.

Those of us on the fence watched this after having eaten a large dinner that included some spicy beans. At one point, one of the kids with us accidentally made a rather embarrassing bean-related sound.

We all looked at him and his response was something like, “Was that out loud?”

One of the villagers who knew a couple English words, laughed and said, “Katoot. That’s katoot.”

We suddenly realized we had inadvertently learned a very useful Indonesian word. And it was way better than the English word for the same thing.

While this was going on, the sisters on the steps arrived at the verse, “If you’re happy and you know it, show a smile.” But the villagers couldn’t quite get the smile concept, despite the girls pushing the sides of their mouths up until they looked like The Joker.

One of the girls finally turned to us and asked, “Does anyone know the Indonesian word for smile?”

My buddy, who’d just produced the sound that helped us learn the new word, happily obliged. “It’s katoot.”

She thanked him and continued with the song. “If you’re happy and you know it, katoot!”

Of course everyone instantly smiled, so she and her sister assumed it was correct and started dancing while proudly telling everyone to katoot. Soon the whole village was laughing and the girl finally realized something was wrong.

She turned back to us. “Hey, what does that really mean?”

By that point, we’d fallen off the fence, unable to respond.