Sponge Bear

There's an excellent article by Max Hirsch of Kyōdō News 共同通信社 in today's edition of the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ ("When Taiwan-Japan relations run afoul, there's always Hatta Yoichi" http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/nn20091119f1.html):

"The Japanese animated movie 'Hatta Yoichi' was given wide theatrical release Friday in Taiwan, but few moviegoers here are likely to grasp its political significance. Purely as 'anime' アニメ entertainment, the film has much to offer young Taiwanese unconcerned with politics. But it is also a historical biography, and the significance has not been lost on President Ma Ying-jeou (Ba Eikyū) 馬英九, who attended a special showing Nov. 4 in southern Taiwan before the general release. With bodyguards and dignitaries in tow, Ma made a point of traveling to T'ainan (Tainan) 台南 to attend the two-hour local premiere. For Ma, the film crystallizes his vision for even-keeled Taiwan-Japan relations. But where the movie appeals to the Taiwanese administration, the reality of bilateral relations misses the mark, as gaffes and hurt feelings have abounded between T'aipei (Taihoku) 台北 and Tōkyō 東京 since Ma took office last year — a reality spurring him to bring into play his vision through politically charged sites, figures — and even cartoons."

And who is Yoichi Hatta 八田與一, you might be asking? He isn't a particularly well-known personage in Japan, but in Taiwan he's a celebrated figure, as Hirsch explains:

"(Hatta was a) Japanese engineer who planned and supervised the construction of southern Taiwan's Wushant'ou (Usantō) Reservoir 烏山頭水庫, which was completed in 1930. Japan ruled Taiwan from 1895 until 1945. Despite some lingering post-colonial resentment, Japan is generally credited in Taiwan for improving the island's infrastructure, rule of law, educational system and social services during its 50-year rule. Among Japan's achievements, Wushant'ou ranks as one of its most popular, with the dam taming the waters of southern Taiwan and ending a drought for millions of farmers, according to the film and Ma. Wushant'ou is still in operation, while Hatta is lionized as a humanist who treated local laborers as equals and worked tirelessly for Taiwan's benefit."

You can read a brief bio on Hatta in English here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yoichi_Hatta (plus a longer one in Japanese here http://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E5%85%AB%E7%94%B0%E8%88%87%E4%B8%80). Hirsch goes on to explain how a presumably unassuming (and long deceased) hydraulic engineer has been adopted as a poster boy for close Japan-Taiwan relations:

"'Because of Mr. Hatta's efforts, a desert became fertile cropland . . . (his) kind, upright character is akin to that of the Taiwanese,' Ma said at the Tainan premiere...the film adds to the political symbolism that Ma has already lent to Hatta and his dam. Though Wushant'ou has been a symbol of bilateral friendship, Ma has further amplified its political meaning through special visits and functions. For example, Ma observed the 67th anniversary of Hatta's death in a ceremony May 8 held at a bronze statue of the engineer overlooking the reservoir. Last year, Ma arranged for the Taiwanese and Japanese de facto ambassadors to meet at the reservoir and take a tour. The site was chosen to encourage a rapport between the envoys and underscore bilateral friendship."

I hadn't realized that "kindness" and "uprightness" were special qualities of the Taiwanese - I appreciate both the president's clarification of this matter, and his generous acceptance that even (some) Japanese might also possess these fine local characteristics. But why is the Hong Kong-born scion of a well-connected nationalist political family with deep roots in China (and very few in Taiwan) so eager to embrace a symbol of the former colonial master, especially when his own Government Information Office 行政院新聞局 is putting out revisionist North Korean-style propaganda like this http://web.archive.org/web/20071029130020/http://www.gio.gov.tw/info/festival_c/restore_e/restore.htm?:

"'Since President Ma took office, Japan's image of him has been one of cuddling up to China and moving away from Japan, and so he seeks to use Hatta Yoichi to counter this image,' said Luo Fu-chuan, a former Taiwanese envoy to Japan. 'Tōkyō suspects President Ma of wanting to get in bed with Beijing.' Indeed, while Ma has wooed China, restarted formal negotiations across the Taiwan Strait 台湾海峡 and signed trade agreements with Beijing, T'aipei's relations with Tōkyō have mostly stagnated. Last year, a collision between a Japan Coast Guard 海上保安庁 vessel and a Taiwanese fishing boat in disputed waters near the Senkaku Islands 尖閣諸島 touched off a diplomatic spat about sovereignty over and access to the uninhabited islets and surrounding area. Since May, Ma has been reluctant to meet with Japan's envoy to T'aipei, Makoto Saitō, who angered Ma by referring to Taiwan's international status as 'unresolved.' The remark came as a slap in the face to the Ma administration, which insists on the sovereignty of the Republic of China 中華民国, Taiwan's official name. And T'aipei's much-touted plans to open a new representative office in Hokkaidō 北海道 have quietly faded away — apparently a sign that the Ma administration's interest in Japan is flagging. But amid the currently chilly ties, Hatta and his reservoir perhaps have taken on more political significance than ever as one of the few remaining, and thus more precious, symbols of positive relations. For Ma, they remain symbols to fall back on."

While it's great that the Tiaoyut'ai Warrior can find something about the Japanese to like (remember the "What have the Romans ever done for us?" scene from "Life of Brian"? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSELOCMmw4A), all this adulation is no substitute for solid, stable relations between Taiwan and Japan. Like it or not, for Taiwan Japan is an important trading partner and source of investment, not to mention a potential ally in matters of security, built on a shared historical relationship. Though it might offend his Chinese nationalist feelings, Ma needs to shift his focus from the past, and pay more attention to the Japan (and Japanese) of the present and the future.

I have Tuesday afternoons free, and usually take advantage of the time by going for walks in the mountains. This morning, however, turned out to be an unexpected holiday as well, thanks to a government inspection of the kindergarten where I teach. It's one of those "Taiwan things" - foreigners are not allowed to teach young children, yet everyone knows it goes on. Hundreds (if not thousands) of Westerners are employed at kindergartens promoting English as the medium of instruction, and these schools can, in fact, sponsor working visas for foreign instructors. What the government is afraid of isn't clear (I'm not sure what dangerous ideas I could be imparting on the young minds I mold on weekday mornings), but when it comes time for announced-in advance inspections, the non-Taiwanese teachers are either told to hide (in empty rooms, basements, nearby parks...anywhere is possible) or, as was the case today, to take part of the day off. Of course, the logical thing to do would be to allow qualified foreign language instructors to teach young children in regulated, supervised environments, but this is Taiwan, so ridiculous restrictions are imposed, and then flouted by virtually everyone. It's things like this that make me glad my residency visa comes through marriage.

I had planned to spend this afternoon doing a bit of sightseeing in T'aichung (Taichū) 台中, and that's what I did (only with a bit more time on my hands). This morning I paid a visit to the city's foremost tourist attraction (for the locals, anyway), the National Museum of Natural Science 国立自然科学博物館. Like most things about T'aichung (or Taiwan, for that matter), my feelings are mixed on the museum. From the outside, the building does nothing to inspire the approaching visitor. Most of the displays inside are directed towards children, and it was no surprise to see a constant stream of school children being led around the museum by guides today. Having visited before both with students and my daughter, I skipped the exhibits covering things like paleontology, zoology and biology, and instead made for the quieter displays located further inside the large building. In these rooms, one can learn about traditional Chinese medicine, early advances in Chinese technology, paleolithic Chinese cultures and Chinese spiritual beliefs, among other things:

Do you detect a pattern? It appears that the museum was established for the purpose of reminding Taiwanese people that they are "Chinese", and therefore should be proud of all that Chinese culture and tradition entails. In all fairness, however, the science museum also has Taiwan-specific displays, including one on the contributions of Japanese botanists to the study of flora on this island (alas, it was still in the process of being set up, and thus wasn't open yet). Yes, you can learn a lot about many aspects of what it means to be Chinese...if you can read characters, that is. With a couple of exceptions, there wasn't much labeled in English (though there may be English-language audio guides available). The room covering Taiwan's aboriginal peoples was one of those exceptions, but was surprisingly small considering the importance of the native peoples on the settlement and development of Taiwan. The other was a temporary exhibit containing photographs taken of Lukang (Rokkō) 鹿港 in the 1960's by a doctor who was working there at the time. The pictures themselves provided a fascinating look at daily life in what was then a poor Taiwanese town, before it was discovered by tourists, and the explanations in English were very well done.

Following lunch (where the hordes of schoolkids were noisy, but surprisingly not obnoxious), I took a walk through the botanical gardens behind the museum. The grounds are dominated by the tropical rainforest conservatory (with its giant dragonfly outside). Having been there before, I gave it a miss this time, but the grounds both here, and outside the main museum buildings, make for a nice stroll, and a respite from the hubbub of the streets outside.


I then walked from the science museum towards T'aichung's art museum, along a series of parkways that have seen better days, unfortunately. As I had some personal business to attend to while in T'aichung, I decided to save the art museum for the next time I play tourist, but I made a circuit of the grounds before returning to my scooter parked in front of the national science museum. During my walk, I came across several signs sporting Japanese. For some reason, this part of T'aichung hosts a number of seemingly Japanese-style "snacks" and "lounges" (the first photo, however, is of a conveyor belt sushi 回転寿司 restaurant):


By the time I'd finished doing what had to be done in T'aichung, the weather had turned cloudy, cool and windy. Back in Fengyuan (Toyohara) 豊原, the winds were so strong that a woman and her two small children were blown off their scooter and onto the middle of the street. Fortunately, everyone was fine, and I helped pick up the bike. Neither of the children were wearing helmets, of course, and the incident occurred while the woman was attempting to make a left turn on a red light, in front of oncoming traffic.

This is Taiwan, after all.

This morning started off on a less than promising note when I woke up to thunder and rain. Tuesday afternoons are when I like to go for walks in the mountains, but the sky didn't augur well. Still, I prepared everything as I usually do, and short of typhoon-like conditions, I was determined to get my walk in, rain or shine (though the sounds of thunder were somewhat disconcerting). The rain wasn't heavy, but it was constant all through the morning...until the time I finished my shift shortly before noon. It was still overcast on the ride out to Tak'eng, but by the time I arrived at the start to the No. 1 Trail, the sun was shining. The gods must have been pleased.

The afternoon turned out to be one of the more satisfying excursions I've had in this particular area, for two reasons: 1.) the weather had no doubt kept some people away, and so I had the mountain mostly to myself; and 2.) the morning showers had resulted in some of the clearest skies I've seen in quite some time. The course I chose today was a longer one, going up the No. 1 first, then walking over to Trail 5-1, and continuing uphill from there. The No. 5 is my favorite out of all the paths in the Tak'eng area because not only is it the least busy (due to the extra effort it takes to reach it), but also for the views it provides. The other trails all have vistas overlooking T'aichung (Taichū) 台中 and its neighbors (at least when it isn't hazy or smoggy), but the No. 5 allows you to see what's on the other side, towards Taiwan's Central Mountain Range 中央山脈. And today I was in for a nice surprise. It had been a while since I'd taken this trail. As I climbed up to an electricity pylon 鉄塔 perched atop a clearing, I discovered that since the last time I was there, someone had clear cut all the trees and bushes in that area. Normally, I'd be upset that such a thing had been done, but the result in this case was a great view overlooking the farming communities and fields down below. The air was so clear that I could make out with my binoculars the small homes and buildings dotting the sides of the mountains in the background. The photos and video I took didn't do the scene justice:




And I thought to myself...what a wonderful world.

The writing on the wall above comes from a 24-hour business offering "Japanese-style" massages, whatever that might entail. It's easy to assume that this shop offers additional "services", if you get my drift. However, the place has huge signs on its storefront, hardly the mark of a business wishing to remain inconspicuous, and thus avoid unwanted police attention. In addition, there are photographs of what one assumes to be the staff. The women wear ugly pink uniforms that make them look like stewardesses from the 1960's (sans Jackie Kennedy-style pillbox hats), and they all appear rather ordinary-looking, with nary a 辣妹 in the bunch. So perhaps this business does what it advertises - provide massages on a round-the-block basis. I'm not going inside to find out, however.

I'm forty-six years of age. Most of my friends are either the same age as me, or younger. And while most of us are long past our youth, none of us can be considered "old". Which is why it is such a big shock to learn of the passing of one of my closest friends.

I met Louis in the spring of 1990, when I was hired as a teacher at ECC in Tokyo. It was no surprise that we quickly became friends, seeing as we were the same age, were from the same state, had the same tastes in music, the same bad habits (beer and cigarettes), and the same deep interest in all things Japanese (including girls :)!). Much of my free time in Tokyo was spent in Louis' company - bonding sessions over beer, eating out at izakayas, going to clubs and concerts, making trips outside of the city and just plain hanging out, together and with mutual friends, talking about this, that and the other. Louis had to have been the best conversationalist I have ever met, a result of his intelligence, wit and charm. He was also one of the few people I have ever known with whom it was a pleasure to have an argument. Even his habit of calling me up at one or two o'clock in the morning after he'd had a little too much to drink never got to be annoying. Those chats were always worth giving up an hour or two worth of sleep! And of course there were the times when we helped each other through difficult moments in our personal lives. Louis' advice was something I often sought out, right up to the present day.

When Louis left Japan to return to the States and work on his dream of becoming a writer, life in Tokyo became a little less interesting. I only met him in person on a few occasions afterward. In the early summer of 1998, he put me up for a week at his apartment in Brooklyn (after I had visited Mike Burkat in Boston, a mutual friend who also left us much too soon). Thanks to Louis, I had a great time in New York. Then, in the spring of 2001, it was my turn to host him, when he came to see me in Taiwan. There was also the time in the early fall of 1999 when I visited him at his new place in Campbell. I was driving back to Washington from Indiana at the tail end of the worst personal crisis of my life and made a detour to California to see him. All I can say is that Louis was there for me when I needed him. Despite the physical separation, we never lost touch with each other, thanks to email, Skype and Facebook. I also made sure to call him up and talk to him on the phone whenever I was staying at my parents' place in Washington. It's to my regret now that I didn't get around to driving down to California to visit him on his boat.

It's difficult coming to terms with what has happened. On Saturday, I was passing along birthday wishes via Facebook. On Tuesday, I was stunned to be reading messages of prayers being posted on his Facebook Wall by family and friends, and thinking that when he got out of the hospital, I would give him a ring on Skype and admonish him (gently, of course) to be more careful next time. It wasn't to be, however, as I found out this morning. And now it's hard to believe he's gone. I'm not a religious person, and so I don't believe Louis has gone to a "better place". The best place for him to be is right here with the rest of us, sailing his boat, writing witty postings on Facebook, sending everyone his annual Christmas stories and working on getting his book published. There was still so much more he had to offer to the world.

Life goes on, of course, but the memories of Louis will remain. Right now, I'm thinking of all the things he wrote about his surfing adventures in Hawaii, and what a great trip that must have been for him. He was able to see and experience things that most people will never have the chance of doing. Even in his lowest moments, he always managed a smile while remaining positive.

Thank you for the days, my friend. I'll always love you.

Another day, another pro-China commentary on Taiwan in the Japanese English-language media. This time, it's Frank Ching again, in the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ with "Missiles crimp Taiwan's thoughts of peace" http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/eo20091103fc.html, regarding the estimated 1500 missiles pointed towards this island:

"While Beijing has been willing to accommodate Taiwan in terms of economic cooperation, slightly more international space and a diplomatic truce, it has not done much to reduce military pressure. At the same time as it is increasing its military capabilities, China is also putting pressure on the United States to halt or at least reduce arms sales to Taiwan."

Ching begins by portraying China in a generally positive light except for that pesky ol' offensive missile problem. The entirety of the column is framed from a Chinese perspective, such as the following paragraph:

"This is not in Taiwan's interests and, ultimately, not in China's either. Beijing's top priority right now should be to enhance Ma Ying-jeou (Ba Eikyū)'s 馬英九 standing among the voters so as to ensure his re-election in the next presidential election. If Ma is defeated in 2012, the return to power of the pro-independence Democratic Progressive Party 民主進歩党 would inevitably lead to heightened cross-strait tensions."

Notice how what Ching regards as being in Taiwan's "interests" dovetails nicely with what he thinks is best for China. In Ching's view, a DPP-led administration would conceivably seek to act like the a government of a sovereign state (the temerity of it all!), when what Taiwan really needs is a continuation of the current president's policies of accommodating Beijing.

"It is extremely shortsighted of Beijing to enhance military pressure on the Ma administration. China's military power is already so much greater than Taiwan's that it would be irresponsible of Ma, or any other leader, to ignore this growing imbalance. The natural result is that T'aipei (Taihoku) 台北 will seek to purchase arms from the U.S. to try to reduce the military imbalance between the two sides. If Beijing wants Washington to reduce weapons sales to Taiwan, it should demonstrate that Taiwan faces little or no military threat from the mainland. By continuing to increase the number of short-range missiles threatening Taiwan, Beijing is ensuring that the U.S. government will have little choice other than to make sophisticated weapons available to Taiwan."

Two false assumptions are at play here. One is the assertion that Taiwan will be somehow forced to seek sophisticated weapons from the United States. The fact is that while the Ma administration has been making noises about arms purchases, it hasn't really demonstrated much enthusiasm for doing so. And it shouldn't be forgotten how the KMT 中国国民党 repeatedly held up programs to buy American weapons in the legislature all throughout the Chen Shui-bian (Chin Suihen) 陳水扁 years. The other fallacy is that China is forcing the US to sell Taiwan weapons, when numerous other factors - Taiwan's many (mostly conservative) friends in Congress, our old friend the military/industrial complex, the Taiwan Relations Act 台湾関係法 - all work to keep Taiwan armed despite the lack of formal relations with the U.S.

"As long as China acts in a threatening manner toward Taiwan, the government in T'aipei, regardless of which party is in power, will seek arms with which to defend its people and its territory. And as long as Taiwan seeks to buy weapons with which to defend itself, the U.S. cannot simply dismiss those requests out of hand. It will have to make an assessment of the threat facing Taiwan and its need for specific weapons. If China wants the U.S. to stop selling arms to Taiwan, the best thing it can do is scale down its military threat to Taiwan. Scrapping the 1,000-plus missiles aimed at Taiwan would be a good first step."

Ching is making a dangerous connection - that if China does, in fact, eliminate the missiles pointed at Taiwan, the U.S. will have no reason to sell arms to Taiwan. What Ching is (deliberately?) choosing to ignore is that, even without missiles, China will remain a threat to Taiwan, both militarily and (thanks to Ma and his team) increasingly economically. Ching may feel such a quid pro quo (no more missiles = no more arms sales) is reasonable, but hopefully more rational minds in Washington will think otherwise.

"China seems to have taken the position that the removal of its missiles can only come about as a result of negotiations with Taiwan. It wants Taiwan to pay a price for the removal of this threat. The mainland should realize that continuing to step up military pressure on Taiwan will simply provide ammunition to the opposition party, which is relentless in accusing Ma of kowtowing to China. Ma has said that as long as China still threatens Taiwan, he will not hold peace talks with the mainland."

No, instead Ma will continue to tie up Taiwan's economic future ever more closely with China's huge economy, to the point where missiles won't be needed to ensure a coming about of a Taiwan Special Administrative Region, presided over by a Chief Executive Ma Ying-jeou (or any one of a number of KMT fellow travelers who would jump at such an opportunity). The Frank Chings of the world will be pleased. I'm not sure the same will be able to be said of the 23 million or so people on the island of Taiwan.

Back from an overnight visit to a part of Taiwan's Japanese-era past, and time to write about it. We spent this weekend in Chinkuashih (Kinkaseki) 金瓜石 and Chiufen (Kyūfun) 九份, located in the northeastern part of Taiwan, not far from the capital, T'aipei (Taihoku) 台北. Both towns are closely-connected to Taiwan's mining era (gold in the case of Chiufen, copper and silver for Chinkuashih), and were home to tens of thousands of people during the boom years. Eventually, however, the cost of extracting the precious metals became too prohibitive, and the area was forgotten until being rediscovered by tourists, starting in the 1990's. Now, Chiufen has become too popular. Chinkuashih is the better of the two at retaining something of its original atmosphere, but it also draws a lot of visitors (there was a constant stream of buses running along the narrow mountainside roads while we were there). Nonetheless, both are worth a visit, especially Chinkuashih for its excellent Gold Ecological Park 黄金博物園区.


TAIPEI 101 could be seen from the car as we drove through T'aipei on the way to Chinkuashih. We arrived there in the early afternoon, and searched for our B&B, Lucky House (if you look closely at the Japanese in the sign, it uses ン instead a small ッ, rendering the name as something more like "Lankey House"). We eventually found it, but only after driving down some very tight-fitting lanes. After checking in, we walked over to the Gold Ecological Park. It was a somewhat long, tiring walk for Pamela and Amber (one doesn't like exercise, and the other is still a few months shy of four years old), going up steep staircases and walking along narrow, busy streets, but the scenery was refreshing. Should you decide to visit Chinkuashih and/or Chiufen, I strongly recommend using public transportation instead of マイカー, as the bus system for getting there and around is excellent.



On the way to the park, we passed this building with a replica Zero fighter 零戦 on it!

The Gold Ecological Park is well laid-out, and has a lot to see. We only had a couple of hours of daylight left by the time we arrived, but still managed to visit the Crown Prince Chalet, the Gold Temple, the Penshan Fifth Tunnel Experience Area and the Gold Museum. The Crown Prince Chalet was built in 1922 for Hirohito's 昭和天皇 visit in 1923 (at a time when he was still Crown Prince 皇太子). Hirohito made it to Taiwan but not to Chinkuashih, but the house is still a good example of distinctive Japanese architecture (albeit in a Taiwanese setting):

The misnamed "Gold Temple" is the former Ōgon-jinja 黄金神社 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%8Cgon_Shrine (places of Shintō 神道 worship are always called "shrines", and not "temples", the latter being associated with Buddhism 仏教). Only a few ruins remain of Ōgon Shrine, but they are incredibly atmospheric, and the walk up the steep hillside is rewarded with great views of Chinkuashih in the valley below:

The Penshan Fifth Tunnel Experience Area is a tour of a 180-meter (600 feet) section of an old mine, and includes several wax dummies illustrating what working conditions were like for the miners. Hardhats were required:

The Gold Museum gives a good overview of Chinkuashih's mining history, and also includes accounts of what it was like for the Allied prisoners at the Kinkaseki POW camp (more on that later). The most popular attraction at the museum was definitely the 220-kilogram (485 pounds) gold bar, the world's largest, worth roughly NT244 million ($7.5 million or ¥670 million at current prices), according to an electronic counter in front of the bar's case. I didn't get a photo, unfortunately, but I was able to reach inside the case and touch it. Following dinner at a Japanese restaurant (how apropos!), we walked back in the dark to our 民宿 and retired for the night.

The following morning (今朝) turned out to be rainy and misty. It always seems to rain whenever we visit the northern part of Taiwan, and this trip was no exception. Nonetheless, we were still able to get out and enjoy the sights. After breakfast and checkout, we drove past the Gold Ecological Park to Ch'uanchi Temple. Aside from a 35-meter (115 feet) high statue of Guan Di (Kan'u) 関羽 (which looked eerie in the fog), the temple was your run-of-the-mill Taoist house of worship, but below it was a nice little park built on the ruins of the aforementioned POW 捕虜 camp. During the Second World War, the Japanese operated fifteen such camps around Taiwan for Allied prisoners-of-war. Working conditions were appalling, brutality at the hands of the Japanese and Taiwanese guards was a fact of daily life and roughly 10% of the POW's didn't survive the ordeal. Kinkaseki was the biggest of these camps, and the only one that I'm aware of where the unhappy past is acknowledged - there is a memorial in the park with the following inscription:
"In memory of the more than 1000 gallant men of the British Commonwealth and Allied forces, who suffered brutal and savage treatment here and in the nearby copper mine, and other places in Taiwan, as prisoners of war of the Japanese from 1942 to 1945. Their souls remain here forever. 'None of us should forget.' "
None of us shouldn't:


From there, we drove over to the other side of the hills to Chiufen. Here is the classic Taiwanese tourist trap - an old street chock full of small restaurants, snack stands and souvenir shops catering to the hordes of day trippers arriving from T'aipei and beyond (including Japan, from snippets of conversation I overhead while there, not to mention the proliferation of Japanese signs). There's more to Chiufen, of course, than just eating, but for the couple of hours we were there today, we didn't venture beyond Chinshan Street. This was actually my second visit to Chiufen (and Chinkuashih). The first time was in 2001, during the Lunar New Year 旧正月 holidays. Back then, Pamela and I arrived there in the morning, and walked along some of the picturesque streets, then left before things became too crowded. We then went to Chinkuashih, where at that time there were only a handful of tourists (this was before the Gold Ecological Park had been established). Chiufen has atmosphere, but like many places in Taiwan, it's probably best visited during weekdays. If you have to visit on a weekend, I suggest staying a night - that way you can enjoy the narrow streets and lanes after most of the hordes have stuffed themselves and gone home, and enjoy some of the other sights, like walking up to the top of Mount Chilung, the following morning before the town is transformed into a human zoo. Maybe one of these days I might actually follow my own advice, too!:



Even in blustery conditions, the views from Chiufen were excellent!

We left Chiufen just after lunchtime (the precious parking space we had managed to procure in a local's garage was only paid up for two hours), and drove down to the coast so that Amber could have a look at the ocean. Mission accomplished, we made the drive back home to Fengyuan (Toyohara) 豊原, thankfully arriving ahead of the usual late Sunday afternoon freeway traffic jams. Time to start considering the next overnight excursion. I already have a few ideas...


金瓜石（きんかせき）
かつて九份とならび金鉱で栄えていた金瓜石。金を産出していた１９３０年代が黄金期で、１９７０年代に金鉱は閉鎖され、以後は人影もまばらな過疎地となった。ここ１０年ほどの九份ブームから観光開発が行われ、政府の手で廃坑を中心とした黄金博物館区が完成した。
村の中心は黄金博物館区がある。園区の南側には日本統治時代に建てられた黄金神社の名残がある。石造の鳥居と灯篭が残されているが、神社はなく、石柱が残されているだけである。周辺りはほかにも日本統治時代の木造建築が残存していて、いくつかは修復され一般公開されている。なかでも１９２３年、昭和天皇が皇太子の頃、訪台のおりにこの地を視察した際に建てられた和風邸宅は、太子賓館の名で公開され、人気を呼んでいる。

九份（きゅうふん）
基隆から南へ１０ｋｍの山間にある、坂道や階段の多い小さな町。山を背後に海に面した斜面に建つ家々、石段や薄暗い路地など、町はレトロ感覚にあふれている。
もともと９戸しかなかった小さな集落で、交通が不便なため品物屋を補充するときに毎回９セットを買うので九份という名前が付いたという。
「舊道（旧道）」バス停で下車し、観海亭に立ってみよう。
天気がよければ、町の全景と海が見渡せる。セブンーイレブンの横の道が基山街。東西に延びた一番にぎやかな小径で、みやげ物屋やレストランなどが集まっている。その基山街の東側、見晴らしのいい部分の少し手前にある石段が竪崎路で、九份のほぼ中央を南北に走っている。その中腹あたりに映画「悲情城市」の撮影に使われたレストランがあり、「悲情城市」と書かれた看板が出ていて、今でも人気のある記念写真のポイント。その付近で竪崎路と交わって東南に延びる軽便路にも食堂、みやげ物屋が並んでいる。無数の小径が町中に広がり、一歩路地に足を踏み入れると、日本統治時代の古きよき九份の面影が残る。
また、モチモチした食感の九份名前、芋圓（台湾語でオーイン。タロイモと小麦粉を練ってだんごのようにしたもの）もぜひ食べたい。竪崎路を下りきったあたりに「九份」バス停があり、帰路はここから乗車すると便利。

（地球の歩き方台湾’０５～’０６）

We had a bit of a scare yesterday evening when my daughter threw up immediately after finishing dinner at a hot pot 火鍋 restaurant, and then a couple of more times after we got home. A trip to the emergency room at the city hospital and an examination in the Pediatrics department, followed by a diagnosis of a stomach bug (probably brought on by the start of a cold) and some medicine being prescribed did much to alleviate our worry, as did the relatively peaceful night's sleep enjoyed by Amber last night. Once again, I was left to admire the efficiency of Taiwan's national health insurance system (in and out of the ER in under an hour, at a total cost to us of NT450 - that's $15 or ¥1280), and wonder why can't a:) more of Taiwan's social systems be run this well; and b:) America get its act together, and join the rest of the developed world in setting up a universal system of health care coverage for all its people?

I don't want to get started on the likes of Glenn Beck or Rush Limbaugh, not when I have the latest Tom Plate commentary on my screen at the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ website. "Paranoids feast on China's 'peaceful rising'" http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/eo20091026tp.html is the usual Plate offering - seemingly even-handed, but lacking in-depth research and supporting facts, with a conclusion of such naivety that's hard to believe Plate has a doctorate (he's on leave from UCLA):

"Paranoid people tend to live longer, goes the old joke. And so it is in this spirit only — not out of a desire to engage in Cold War China-bashing — that we raise concerns about China. So here's the paranoid's question: Just what is China really up to? The facts are as follows. In parallel with its astonishing and commendable economic rise, China has put together new military architecture that's enough to give one shivers. Of course, the rising military syndrome is hardly unique to China. By and large, economic growth and military buildups go hand in hand."

From the beginning, Plate makes clear that he doesn't believe China's military build-up and modernization is a threat. If he did, it's doubtful that he would label those who do as being "paranoid", and engaging in "Cold War China-bashing". After all, India is doing it too, as Plate mentions in the next paragraph:

"...even India has been sharpening its sticks and buying all sorts of military stuff. And this is in the historic land of Gandhi. It is rapidly lathering on layers of military muscle as its economy continues to upsurge."

Naturally, however, Plate doesn't mention that one reason India is upgrading its military capabilities is the threat it feels is coming from China, which has been making claims on Indian territory in Arunachal Pradesh, as well as being a long-time ally of India's rival, Pakistan. In fact, Plate makes no mention of Chinese claims to any other nation's territories, with one exception - Taiwan. There are no references to the Spratly Islands, the Paracels, the Senkakus 尖閣諸島 or the East China Sea 東シナ海:

"This bustling offshore island (Taiwan), in the daunting shadow of the colossus of China's mainland, is becoming more paranoid than American turkeys approaching Thanksgiving. It is particularly alarmed about the increase of short-range missiles pointed at them — now said to be close to 1,500. That's roughly one Chinese missile for every 23 square kilometers of Taiwan's turf. And while China's missile count continues to mount, tiny Taiwan's territory does not. From a paranoid's perspective, this is not restful. Thus, a recently released report from Taiwan's Ministry of National Defense 中華民国国防部 claims that China's buildup has even gotten to the point where it is capable of deterring the intervention of other foreign militaries — such as America's or Japan's — were it to go to war against the island. It must be noted that Beijing considers Taiwan an integral part of China, and from its perspective any use of force on its part would be an internal political matter, not an outside act of aggression. But legal niceties aside, the overall regional balance of military power may in fact be at the tipping point."

So by Plate's own admission, there are a lot of missiles pointed at Taiwan; Taiwan doesn't pose a threat to China; and the buildup is reaching a point where it could theoretically deter the US or Japan from coming to Taiwan's assistance. He even quotes a RAND Corporation study that pretty much says the same things. And yet, he still feels this is all paranoia:

"China's government constantly proclaims a policy of 'peaceful rising' even as it enlarges its international space economically and diplomatically. At the same time the Taiwan people have elected a government committed to peaceful negotiations with the mainland over the political future of Taiwan, specifically voting out the government that had been aggressively committed to Taiwan's formal independence. So the paranoid's question is simple: If the mainland's peaceful and bilateral relations with Taiwan are now so reasonable and promising, why is China barging ahead with its arms buildup as if there's no tomorrow?"

Yes, why? And Plate's solution?:

"...a single spark of doubt about the sincerity of China's peaceful intentions could ignite a wildfire of fear and suspicion that could unnecessarily complicate its life and return world politics to a binary state of neo-Cold War. So, how about, for starters, Beijing removing a few hundred of those missiles aimed at little Taiwan as a gesture of its true personal warmth (and aim them nowhere else)? This at least could allow some of the world's internationally oriented paranoids to finally get some rest — until the next paranoid crisis, of course."

It's all so simple, and all so unlikely to happen, of course. China's military posturing vis-a-vis Taiwan gives it great leverage (along with growing economic interdependence) in negotiations with an ever-more-amenable KMT 中国国民党. Why would Beijing be willing to turn down the heat, when the grand prize of Taiwan is getting closer to its grasp? To quote a hoary cliche (or a Nirvana lyric), "just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean there not after you". It's almost as hard to understand why people like Tom Plate seem so trusting of China's intentions despite plenty of evidence to the contrary as it is to try and figure out why a significant number of Americans want to deny health care to a large segment of their fellow citizens. Here in Taiwan, I'm covered - by both the health insurance system and Chinese missiles!

Today was a beauty, weather-wise, with clear blue skies and warm, pleasant temperatures. The three of used this nicest of days to take a step back into Taiwan's past by visiting an old train station dating back to the Japanese period. T'aian (Taian) Station 泰安駅 on the old Mountain Route 山線 of the Western Railway Line 西部幹線 dates back to 1910, and was in service until 1998, when a new double-tracked Mountain Route was opened, along with a newer T'aian Station http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tai-an_Station. Today, the old station sits along a quiet country lane, in front of a large hill and facing old homes and rice fields.

The original wooden station building was destroyed in the 1935 Hsinchu-T'aichung earthqauke 新竹・台中地震 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1935_Hsinchu-Taichung_earthquake, and was rebuilt in sturdier but less attractive concrete. There is a monument erected by the Japanese which lists the damage caused to bridges, roadbeds, stations and tunnels by the quake:


Amber enjoyed blowing bubbles, throwing rocks and walking around on the platform and tracks. I did as well, with the only disappointment lying with a signposted hiking trail 登山歩道, which looked promising as it headed up the forested hill behind the station. However, it soon disappeared into the underbrush as it became obvious that trail maintenance was not a high priority:


After checking out the old station (which didn't take long), we drove about five minutes to the modern T'aian Station, built on an elevated platform about five stories (I forgot to count the flights of stairs as we walked up) above the surrounding countryside. There, Amber and I waited for the train to take us back to Fengyuan (Toyohara) 豊原, while my wife drove on ahead to meet us there. What the new station lacks in architectural charm, it makes up for in great views. Nine minutes, two stops and 15NT (45¢/¥40) later, we were back in Fengyuan at the end of a lazy Sunday afternoon, just the way the Small Faces スモール・フェイセス would've wanted it:

Spotted a couple of signs in T'aichung 台中 in the late afternoon today:

The photo on the left is for a business selling morally-dubious shark extract, while the picture on the right was taken as I was passing by the window of a branch of a well-known Japanese dry cleaning chain.

Whenever I go hiking in the Tak'eng area, I always keep an eye out for monkeys. I've seen them on all four of the trails there, but out of all the times I've gone walking in Tak'eng, I've only been fortunate enough to catch sight of some of our closest relatives on six occasions. This afternoon was number six. As I was making my up the No. 1 Trail, I came across what I assume were two Formosan macaques タイワンザル sitting on the railings of the wooden walkway. They beat a hasty retreat into the trees as I approached from one direction, and two other hikers neared them coming the other way. However, they didn't go very far, and sat in the trees looking at us watching them. I took a number of photos, none of which turned out very well, and after about ten minutes or so continued my ascent. As I left the scene, three young people came down the walkway and walked right past the two monkeys in the trees, without ever noticing they were there. It made me wonder how many times I had been unknowingly watched from the foliage.

As you can see from the photo on the right, some other kinds of monkey business were going on this afternoon in Tak'eng :)

This Sunday found me on the losing end of a power struggle with my mother-in-law over who would get to be with Amber. Off my daughter went with my wife and her grandmother to visit my mother-in-law's brother (would that be Amber's great uncle?) in Hsiluo (Seira) 西螺, so I decided to utilize the unexpected free hours to do some walking. I had found a website detailing a country walk just outside of T'aichung (Taichū) 台中 http://www.taiwanese-secrets.com/hike-to-baguashan.html, so I rode off on my scooter this morning to Changhua (Shōka) 彰化. It took more than an hour to get there, but I found Sun Moon Farm, the start of the trail, without any trouble. The plan was to walk for a couple of hours (or eight kilometers/five miles) to reach Pakuashan 八卦山 and its famous-in-Taiwan big Buddha statue, and then return for a four-hour, 16-kilometer (10-mile) round trip. Unfortunately, things didn't quite go as planned. Though the website claimed the route was well-marked, there were actually only a few brown-colored signs indicating the way to go. At one junction, I noticed there was a painted picture of a bicycle (the road is also a bike path) with an arrow pointing to the right, so that was the way I went. This turned out to be a mistake, as the way came down out of the hills and into the suburbs of Changhua, whereupon all indications of the bicycle route disappeared, with Pakuashan being nowhere in sight. It didn't take long to realize that I had gone off track, so I reversed course and made the long walk back uphill to the junction. Continuing straight this time, I soon caught site of Pakuashan, and the backside of the 大仏, far off in the distance. However, it was getting late in the afternoon, and facing a long ride through T'aichung before getting back to Fengyuan (Toyohara) 豊原, I reluctantly turned around and walked back to my parked scooter. Despite not reaching the goal, I still was able to get in 3.5 hours of steady walking in good weather through some nice scenery, with the solitude only occasionally disturbed by a passing car, pickup or scooter (there were also a few dogs to deal with, but it's amazing what effect carrying a large stick had on them!). Pakuashan's Buddha isn't going anywhere, so I'll try this again some other weekend, hopefully with better bearings!

This red bridge had to be crossed going into and out of Changhua County 彰化県:


The road passed by several old houses. The one in the photo on the left has been converted into a tea house. If only more traditional homes could look like this! Most, however, are more like the ones in the picture on the right:


A couple of self-portraits taken along the way:


Parts of the route were well-shaded, while other sections were more exposed:


I should have known I had ventured off-course when this was the sight that greeted me as I came down from the hills!:

OK, so it isn't a sign, and my wife bought this from a local morning market here in Fengyuan (Toyohara) 豊原. Curious, though, why the sticker identifies the fruit as a sweet persimmon in Japanese あまがき.


The sign is trying to say Takahashi 高橋 comes from a source in Japan.


I don't know about "Wazin" - it looks better written as "Wajin". Google translates this as "God sum".


I can forgive a couple of things here, like the misspelling of Toronto (not to mention its inclusion in the first place). But why are T'aipei (Taihoku) 台北, Shanghai 上海 and Beijing 北京 written in characters, while Tōkyō is rendered in hiragana とうきょう? What, 東京 just doesn't look Japanese 日本っぽい enough?

Despite the glorious sunny weather, I opted to spend the early afternoon today doing a little of that ol' tourist thang in downtown T'aichung (next Tuesday I plan on hitting the trails in Tak'eng). I began by visiting the city's Confucius Temple 孔子廟, located on the corner of Shuangshih and Lihsing Roads.

What it lacks in history (it was only finished in 1976), Taiwan's second-largest house of Confucian worship makes up for in appearance. The architecture is impressive without being overwhelming, and the grounds offer a quiet respite from the noise and commotion of central T'aichung (my wife and I even had some of our wedding photographs taken there). The complex is comprised of two large buildings. First up is the Tach'eng Hall 大成門, which houses the Confucius tablet. Unlike Buddhist and Taoist temples with their numerous god statues, there are no representations of the great sage in Confucius shrines - idolatry is verboten:

The other notable building is in the back, the Ch'ungsheng Hall 崇聖祠, which commemorates Confucius' ancestors in the form of more tablets:

Every September 28 a ceremony is held at the shrine to honor Confucius' birthday. I've never attended because it takes place before six o'clock in the morning! Besides, I don't think Confucius himself would've approved of such things. It says something about the human condition that a figure noted for his common sense adages ends up becoming the object of quasi-religious/superstitious rites and rituals.

Next door to the Confucius Temple is T'aichung's Martyrs' Shrine 忠烈祠, formerly a shrine to Japanese soldiers and now a memorial for those who died fighting under the flag of the Republic of China 中華民国. The main hall is only open on Sundays and national holidays, and usually the rest of the grounds is closed as well, but today, for reasons unknown, it was possible to walk inside, through the main gate and up to the front hall:


From the Martyrs' Shrine, I walked north, and after paying a visit to a Catholic church (I'm an equal-opportunity tourist when it comes to visiting religious establishments), soon came to Paochueh Temple 宝覚寺, home to the 27 meter (89-foot)-high gold-painted statue of Milefo or Putai (Hotei) 布袋, the Laughing Buddha:

This was one of the first places I ever visited in Taiwan, and I was impressed at the time. With each successive visit, the feeling diminishes, and not because I'm familiar with the statue. When I first came here in 1998, Milefo stood alone, and his impressive bulk could be seen from far down the street as you approached the temple, looking out over the walls. Over the years, however, Paochueh Temple has apparently adopted the theory that bigger is better. The statue now sits in the shadows of a larger hall built next door, and Milefo can't be seen until you are almost at the temple itself. But even worse, the pleasant main hall, dating from 1928, which also used to stand alone, is now in the finishing touches of being swallowed up by a mammoth "outer shell". Whereas the Confucius Temple preserves a fine sense of aesthetics, Paochueh Temple seemingly wants to destroy what made it so unique in the first place:

Paochueh Temple is on the itinerary of virtually every Japanese tour group that visits T'aichung (though I didn't see any while I was there this afternoon), and not just for the obvious reason. To the left as you enter the temple through the main gate, next to the remembrance hall, is a small pavilion dedicated to those Taiwanese who died during the Second World War while fighting for the Japanese. There is also a stele 石碑 nearby that, according to my Rough Guide to Taiwan, has an epitaph written on it by none other than Lee Tung-hui (Ri Tōki) 李登輝, a former president of the ROC. Lee's brother was killed during the war while serving in the Imperial Japanese Navy 大日本帝国海軍:

There are a couple of other war-related memorials on the temple grounds, which serve to highlight the differences between Taiwanese and Koreans over their feelings towards their former colonial masters - it's unlikely you would find anything like these in South Korea!

Should you find yourself with a few hours to spare in central T'aichung, you ought to pay a visit to the Confucius Temple, the Martyrs' Shrine (if it's open!) and Paochueh Temple. There are plenty of photo opportunities, and if you go to these places on a weekday, you'll probably have them all to yourself. 楽しみになるだろう。

I'm not ashamed to admit to being a Japanophile, but my interest in that country and its culture has never extended to anime アニメ and manga 漫画. Truth is I've never seen what all the excitement has been about (though I was impressed with "Akira" アキラ, and I can appreciate the genius of Hayao Miyazaki 宮崎駿). The younger generation in Taiwan, on the other hand, laps up all of the cartoons and comic books it can get its hands on, and now, according to the following article from Japan Today ("Realize Mobile delivers Japanese e-comics in Taiwan" http://www.japantoday.com/category/technology/view/realize-mobile-delivers-japanese-e-comics-in-taiwan), more sources of Japanese pop culture are about to be procured:

"Realize Mobile Communications, a Softbank ソフトバンク group company, has started to deliver Japanese comic titles to Far EasTone Telecommunications, the major mobile operator in Taiwan. Realize Mobile will deliver the well-known Japanese comics 'ONE PIECE', 'NARUTO' ナルト, 'DRAGON BALL' ドラゴンボール, 'DEATH NOTE', 'HANA-YORI DANGO' 花より男子 from Shūeisha 集英社, and 'HAPPY MANIA' ハッピーマニア from Shōdensha 祥伝社, among others. It is the first mobile bookstore delivering Japanese titles in Taiwan...Realize Mobile hopes to deliver mobile e-comics to other operators in Taiwan, and to provide the service to other areas in Asia, including China."

Now that this is finished, I'll get back to watching old clips from "Speed Racer" マッハGoGoGo, "Gigantor"　鉄人２８号 and "Kimba the White Lion" ジャングル大帝, among others, on YouTube.

Leaving things to the last minute, as usual. Last week, we went to the beach for the first time this year on what turned out to be probably the last hot day of the year. Today, we took in our first baseball game of the 2009 Chinese Professional Baseball League 中華職業棒球大聯盟 season, which not so coincidentally was also the next-to-last scheduled regular-season game to be played in T'aichung (Taichū) 台中 this season. "Better late than never" seems to be the Kaminoge family motto!

Following lunch at a downtown Japanese restaurant called 三木 (Miki)...

...and a long delay in finding a parking spot, we arrived at the old Taichung Baseball Field 台中野球場 in the top of the second inning to find the Brother Elephants 兄弟得エレファンツ and the hometown Sinon Bulls 興農ブルズ tied 2-2. Why the Bulls continue to play there, and not at the newer, more modern Taichung Intercontinental Baseball Stadium, is a mystery to me. Though it dates from 1935, we're not talking Fenway Park or Wrigley Field here. Instead, the Taichung Baseball Field is more reminiscent of those 1930's WPA-built stadiums still used by Appalachian League Rookie-level teams. The seats are too small, sight-lines are blocked in places, and the whole edifice reeks of decaying utilitarian concrete (plus the hot dogs were awful). Still, you're never far from the action on the field, and the crowd, though small this afternoon, was in a good mood.


I was there to support the local Bulls (and Amber also said she liked the team in white, Sinon, better than the team in yellow, Brother), but my wife has always been a fan of the T'aipei (Taihoku) 台北-based Elephants, and so we sat along the third-base line with the other Brother supporters. Baseball games in Taiwan are similar to those in Japan in that there are organized cheering sections, but here they assemble along the first-base (home) and third-base (visitor) sides of the diamond, unlike the Japanese 応援団, which sit on opposite sides of the outfield bleachers. Amber asked us to buy her an Elephants noisemaker, and proceeded to start exploring its sonic capabilities.



It wasn't a good contest for Elephants fans. Soon after we arrived, Sinon scored seven runs in the bottom of the fourth inning to break the game wide open. Brother's pitcher, an American import named Mike Smith (formerly of the Toronto Blue Jays and Minnesota Twins), was nailed for nine runs before finally being removed. To my surprise, Amber was able to follow the score by looking at the scoreboard - not bad for someone still more than three months shy of her fourth birthday. I contented myself with a Blue Girl beer.


At the end, the scoreline read: Sinon Bulls 11 runs, 17 hits and 2 errors; Brother Elephants 5 runs, 8 hits and 3 errors. Despite all the run-scoring, the game was over in a brisk 2 hours and 42 minutes. Professional baseball in Taiwan will never be confused with the major leagues, let alone Japan's Nippon Professional Baseball 日本野球機構, and it's had to deal with far too many cases of match-fixing and gambling, but a day at the ballpark can be a lot of fun, and at NT250 ($7.75/￥700) for a ticket, it's certainly affordable. If the Bulls can move into the newer stadium, which has plenty of parking and is only a short drive from our home, perhaps we'll take Amber out to the ballgame more often next year.


UPDATE
Here's the report of the game from the Taipei Times http://www.taipeitimes.com/News/sport/archives/2009/10/13/2003455849:

"Seven big runs in the fourth by the Sinon Bulls erased an early deficit as they topped the Brother Elephants 11-5 at the Taichung Municipal Baseball Stadium on Sunday to deal the slumping Elephants their fifth straight loss. Starter Lin Keh-chien 林克謙 was the biggest beneficiary of the seven-run fourth as it gave the rookie a 7-3 lead, allowing manager Hsu Sheng-ming 徐生明 to keep him in the game long enough for his 10th win of the season despite Lin giving up back-to-back homers in the first. Cheng Da-hong 鄭達鴻, Chen Chih-wei 陳志偉 and Wilton Veras ウィルトン・ベラス (formerly of the Boston Red Sox) connected for three hits each to account for seven of the Bulls’ 11 runs."

I love going to the beach, which makes it all the more inexplicable that until today, we hadn't made any trips this year to the sand and surf despite the fact we live on a relatively small island (we did try to go last week, but the rain took care of that plan). So, with the weather still hot in the daytime but noticeably starting to cool in the evenings, we made our first, and most likely last, visit to the seaside in 2009.

On this sunny Mid-Autumn Festival 月見 holiday (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mid-Autumn_Festival), we drove for almost three hours (including time spent in a traffic jam just outside of T'aichung [Taichū] 台中, and a stop for lunch) to the beach of our choice, Mashakou in T'ainan County 台南県, only to find it...closed. This didn't seem to bother my wife much, as she, like many Taiwanese (especially females), fears the sun and any hint of darkened skin (in my next life I'm going to marry either an Australian, a Hawaiian, an Okinawan or a Southern Californian - someone who actually enjoys the beach, and isn't afraid to set foot in the ocean). Seeing the disappointment on the faces of her husband and child, however, she quickly suggested driving through T'ainan (Tainan) city 台南市 to get to what is called "Golden Beach", which we finally reached shortly before 2:30 in the afternoon.

Golden Beach turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The sand was full of shells, much to Amber's delight, and the water was almost pristine by Taiwanese west coast standards, much to my delight. There was a lot of driftwood piled up in places (due to Typhoon Morakot 平成２１年台風第８号, I wonder?), but for the most part, the sand was devoid of garbage. Best of all, it wasn't crowded, with most people there belonging to what turned out to be the Taiwan Kitesurfing Center http://www.tkc.tw/ (as I learned from talking with a fellow Californian, Joe from Redondo Beach, who told me he had lived in T'ainan for 19 years before moving to T'antzu [Tanshi] 潭子, next door to us in Fengyuan [Toyohara] 豊原, three weeks ago):


While Pamela did her best to hide from the sun, I spent the better part of two hours swimming in the Taiwan Strait 台湾海峡. Amber, meanwhile, had a blast looking for seashells, digging in the sand with her new pail and shovel and, finally, for about 30 minutes before we packed everything up to leave, joining me in the water in order to play in the waves (which were pretty small). Seeing the joy on her face was enough to make the long drive there worthwhile. It wasn't until we were walking back to the car around 5 o'clock that I noticed the big sign informing one and all, in both Chinese and English, that swimming was not allowed at Golden Beach!


So my only dip in the ocean for 2009 turned out to be an illegal one. I'll take breaking the law in this manner with my daughter anytime to sitting around a hot, smoky grill on the side of a busy road with a bunch of Taiwan Beer drinkin', Long Life cigarette smokin' おじさん. Happy Moon Festival y'all!

From Japan Today (courtesy of Reuters):



"KAI 境敦史, right, dropkicks Kazu Hayashi カズ・ハヤシ during their All Japan Pro Wrestling (AJPW) 全日本プロレス performance exhibition match in T'aipei (Taihoku) 台北 on Tuesday. Wrestlers of the AJPW are in Taiwan to promote a championship series which will be held in T'aipei on Nov 20-21."
(http://www.japantoday.com/category/picture-of-the-day/view/dropkick)

It can't all be anime アニメ, porn stars AV女優 and sumō 相撲.

The plan today was to drive down to T'ainan (Tainan) 台南, where there is a decent beach, and let Amber try out her new pail and shovel, but the rain that fell intermittently all day forced a postponement. It's still warm (and humid), so I'm hoping we can try again next weekend.

One good thing about the wet weather is the cleaner air that results. I went up onto the roof of our apartment building to take these pictures and video of the surrounding factories, mountains and rice fields:


It can't be made out in the above video, but the high-speed train 台湾高速鉄道 tracks can be seen in the distance. The government was recently forced to take over the management of the Taiwan High Speed Rail Corporation in order to prevent it from going under. Similar measures are being considered for Kaohsiung's (Takao) 高雄 subway system 高雄捷運. Combined with the closure of the Maok'ung gondola 猫空ロープウェイ and the operational difficulties of T'aipei's (Taihoku) recently opened Neihu (Naiko) MRT line 台北捷運内湖線, it hasn't been a good 12 months for Taiwan's big-ticket transportation projects. If only that money had been spent on delivering clean drinking water from the taps, and toilet systems that can handle waste paper...

A long-closed pachinko parlor I passed by this morning while returning a rented DVD ("My Bloody Valentine 3D" ブラッディ・バレンタイン3D, if you must know):


We did end up driving down south today, only not as far as T'ainan. Instead, we paid a visit to my wife's hometown of Hsiluo (Seira) 西螺, in Yunlin (Unrin) County 雲林県, in order to collect a cat. The feline in question, Momo, used to belong to Pamela's niece (and Amber's cousin) Dolphin (you know you've been in Taiwan too long when someone chooses "Dolphin" as an English name, and you accept it without making any wisecracks). It seems Dolphin has a dermatological problem that can be aggravated by sleeping with a cat, so we offered to take Momo off her hands. Before picking up Momo, we stopped to have a look at Hsiluo's claim to Formosan fame, the Japanese-started and American money-finished (but Kuomintang 中国国民党-claimed) Hsiluo Bridge 西螺大橋:


Next to the entrance to the bridge was a small park that had an artificial water channel popular with the local kids. It may have been disappointing not to have gone to the beach, but at least Amber had a chance to splash around and get thoroughly soaked:


After locating some dry clothes for Amber, courtesy of one of my sisters-in-law, we collected Momo and returned home. I would've taken a photo of the new addition to the household, except that he's been hiding ever since we got back. Our other cat, Happy, isn't living up to his name, and is currently cowering (or sulking?) under our bed. I guess it's going to take a while for the two to get used to each other's presence. If you're curious as to what Momo looks like, follow this link to my daughter's blog, where there are several pictures she took of him a few months ago:
http://princessnami.livejournal.com/4300.html

The writing is on the wall at the Capita'n Japanese supermarket on Ch'ungte Road in T'aichung (Taichū) 台中. It just can't be seen clearly in this photograph.

"Meng Ma Dan パン工房 King's Taste こだわり続けて空極の食パン。"