Got this on Tuesday.  I can now officially open up a bank account (although I really don't have the funds right now to make it worth it, it'll still be useful for paying my rent).  Now I just need my health card and I'm good to go.

Edit: As of September 27th, 2013 I still have yet to open up a bank account.

Sifenwei Mountain- 四分尾山

Gong De Sheng, one of the many, many temples in this area.

Nothing major to report today, I took advantage of the sunny (but hazy) weather this morning to go out and hike up Dajian Mountain again.  I figured since I wouldn't be taking a detour to see Xiufeng Waterfall I'd be able to go further down the trail.  That and I knew where I was going this time.

Man, was it just me or was I seriously out of shape?  I felt way more winded than I did last time, and I was running up the slope last time...it had to be the humidity.  Grimacing at the thought that it wasn't even deep into summer yet, I labored up the stairs, bathed in sweat.  Actually, things weren't as bad as I imagined, it just took my body longer to get warmed up, and then I got in the swing of things.
 

That same moss as last time with the full spectrum of autumn colors

Lots more petals strewn across my path this time

There was no magnificent coastal view, or even city view- everything was covered in a bright haziness, blurring the outlines of the buildings below, even as close as Xizhi.

Past the part where I stopped last time, on the way to Sifenwei Mountain, the stone steps disappeared and I found myself on a more traditional hiking trail.  My Nike's skidded over moss covered stone and large tracts of mud.  Up the steeper inclines rope was strung from the tree trunks to prevent hikers from eating shit on the clay-like natural steps.  I, being a stout bad-ass, decided to ignore them, and ran up the hills.  

I didn't ignore them on the way down.  That would just be foolishness.

When the stone steps end...

...the real fun begins!

Didn't go along the Qiedong Ancient Footpath, had no idea where it lead to.  None of these 'walking times' they list are ever accurate.  It says Dajian Mountain is 50 min. away but I remember it being under a half hour.  Looks like the times were listed in metric too.

There was a path that branched off to the left going towards Monk Head Mountain, and I was going to check it out, but at the beginning of the obviously seldom-traveled path I was assaulted by about three spider webs.  Yeah, fuck that.  Oh, what I'm a pussy?  Yeah, have you seen the spiders in Taiwan?  Oh what, you've never been there and you're reading this to experience it vicariously? Ok.  Anyway, the swarm of midges flying around my face were bad enough.  It got so bad I started jogging just to get away from them.

Monk's Head Mountain?  Ah yah, dat's a purdy nice trail, but I wouldn't take it.

Up at the top of Sifenwei Mountain I enjoyed a strong, cool breeze, and an open meadow-like area.  What I didn't enjoy was the view, but I've gotten used to that reality in Taiwan.  Actually, if you like to see mist shrouded mountains without being that high up, then it's still pretty cool. 

That fucking smudge in the middle bothers me.  That's why I look so pissed in this picture.

I could've kept going down the path, and having brought my cellphone I was able to keep track of time.  I was tempted, especially since there were supposed to be multiple waterfalls in the area, but I decided to play it safe just in case something came up with my classes later.  That's the problem with my schedule for Hess, I can't just go out and enjoy the day with reckless abandon.  Still, I got it a helluva lot easier than others.

There's only one problem with hiking alone, it's kind of boring to enjoy the view at the top.  Unless conditions are perfect, or it's really a one-of-a-kind vista, I get eager to get moving again after a brief rest.  I sat on the benches up at the top of Sifenwei breathing in the sweetly scented air and feeling the cool breeze, but after fiddling around with my camera I got restless and started to jog back down.  It's a lot harder to do that on slick clay, even with ropes around.

On the way down there were an array of interesting sounds, not just the subdued orchestra one hears on any hike, the faint rustling of the leaves, the unceasing chatter of birds.  This gentleman was hula-hooping with a giant Buddhist rosary (I don't know what it was).  I tried discreetly to take a photo of him, in case his exercise had some deeper, religious significance to it, but he just turned at my footsteps and smiled beatifically.

Squirrels here are bulkier and darker than the ones at home. 

Right after the pavilion, I started to hear a sharp, rhythmic knocking sound.  It sounded too well timed to be animal or human so I assumed it was some machine in the distance.  Turns out it's this guy clapping in front of him and behind him as he takes the steps down, kind of like a human metronome.  I assume he's doing it as some sort of exercise, but really it could be anything.  I've seen other old people doing similar kinds of routines while they hike, but I'd never seen this before.  My steps started to fall in line with his clapping, my feet punctuating staccato eight-notes to his steady quarter notes.  It's an old habit of mine from marching band- if I hear any kind of beat or rhythm I have to move my footsteps in sync.  It doesn't work when I'm dancing because I'm a shitty dancer, but I was pretty good at marching band.  I started to throw in some sixteenth notes and and amuse myself while still trying to keep in time as his claps faded in the distance.

By the time I got back home and took a shower the sky was already darkening.  Weather here is as fickle as it is in Seattle. 

Taizhong and Changhua, 台中和彰化

The blue county along the central western coast?  That's Taizhong.  The pink one is Zhanghua county.

Oh man, today I was going to do it.  I was going to ride the HSR, the Taiwan Bullet Train, for the first time.  What would normally be a 2.5 hour bus ride from Taipei to Taizhong would take a mere hour.  While the train would be thundering down the west coast like a steel serpent, I’d be sitting within the relative lap of luxury, the lush greenery of Taiwan awaiting my ocular pleasure.  Letters scrolling across the LED board greeted us within the clean, modern interior, while bragging up the top speed of the HSR: 125 mph.  

Window seat on the return too.  Nice.

Wait, what?  That doesn’t seem that fast.  Maybe if I calculate it per minute…

2 miles per minute.  I guess that’s fast?  Not Superman fast, but-

“Goddamit man, I paid 1400 NT for these tickets!  I demand to be charging like a bat out of hell, setting flame to the tracks with our passing, and forced back into my seat with the G-force of our ungodly speed!"

...only to derail and be consumed in a molten inferno.  I started to laugh at my own disappointment, and when the train started up, while I barely raised an eyebrow at our pace, that’s not really what the HSR was designed for.  It’s not trying to impress anyone (actually it is, otherwise they don’t sell tickets, but shut up), and honestly, it would’ve been a waste for the outside to flash by in a blur of green and concrete, because it’s a helluva view the whole way.  In Taipei, strands of cotton-dense mist hovered just out of reach while a dull grey presided above.  Grey and glass dominated in the city proper, but close to the tracks you could see small rice paddies and small carefully tended vegetable gardens.  Out in the distance, low-slung mountains undulated around the city, free of the clutches of civilization, but for the temples that lay snuggled within their bosoms.  Andrew joined me at Taoyuan- figuratively, as his seat was a car away.  As we traveled south the land changed.  Cities were no longer these indomitable bastions of stone and steel; trees sprung up between buildings, in some places gathering together into full-blown forests.  It reminded me of home and a bittersweet smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. 

Really there was all sorts of beautiful geography, wide rivers beds with barely a trickle of water creeping along the rocks, long bridges spanning broad hills, cliffs suddenly jutting out of nowhere…you’d get the same view in the regular trains, but you’d being stopping a lot more too.

I should explain why we were going to Taichung in the first place.  Kelsey and Ethan, the only other two trainees from Washington, ended up being placed down in central Taiwan, in a smaller city called Yuanlin.  I’d been looking forward to seeing them at the 1-month training, but naturally they’d had theirs at a closer training center.  Andrew had missed out on an earlier opportunity to see them, so we decided to go down and stay the night at their place.  They’re a warm, funny, engaging couple, and I was eager to see how they’d adapted to Taiwanese life.  Being fellow countrymen, I felt obligated to find out if they were having any difficulty.  And, needless to say, we both really wanted to see that part of Taiwan.

Alighting in Taichung, we figured out a plan of action, which started with the Taichung Museum of Science.  Never made it.  We took the bus going the wrong direction and got out where a bunch of bus drivers were taking their smoke breaks.  These guys were awesome; loud and friendly, and personally invested in helping us out.  They got us on the right track, but after figuring out how much time we had before Ethan and Kelsey showed up, we opted for the park instead (a mistake in retrospect). 

This was one of the guys who helped us out; we ended up taking his bus back.  Oh and that big, fancy looking structure behind him?  Just a crematorium.  Yeah, no actual significance at all.  You can't even see the enormous Golden Buddha that made it look like a tourist destination.

With a big lake in the center, it might’ve been beautiful in sunnier weather, but the rain was temperamental that day.  Some event was going on, stands set up for people to show off their musical talent, or lack thereof.  Saxes were out in force, old men mournfully honking out 70’s Chinese pop music, each tune melding into the neighboring one, each musician playing with the same dolorous enthusiasm.  I felt bad that the shitty weather had conspired to hamstring the event, but with this great dirge surrounding me, I had doubts it would've done much for their appeal. 

 

Taizhong Park

No idea what this was for.  Thought they might've been Thai or something, but nope, they were speaking Chinese when we walked past them.

All those tents? Yeah a good 60% featured old guys with saxes.

After lunch we walked around behind the train station to Warehouse 22, a former train warehouse converted into an art exhibition and series of art studios that regularly rotates local artists.  Cool idea.  We took in their offerings, and crept through the allies behind.  Sorry, I don’t have much to say about their works.  I always feel it’s rather churlish for a person with no formal artistic training to critique art (at least modern art).   

Near the entrance to Warehouse 22

Alleyway with all the studios

Ethan and Kelsey were delayed and so we had to find something else to do, yet we were limited to the immediate area around the station, where we were meeting.  Seeking help from the tourist information kiosk, I raised an eyebrow when she desk recommended we eat some ice cream.  Those were here exact words.  Things became clearer when she pointed out an old hospital on the map that had been converted into an ice cream parlor of sorts.  We’d be able to see some old architecture.  Ok cool, whatever.  We don't have anything better to do.

Gong Yuan Eye Clinic

 Ok, promising.

Where do I buy my wand?

Definitely didn’t have anything better to do.  This place was AWESOME.  I mean, calling it an ice cream shop didn’t really do justice to this place; it’s like calling Honeydukes “just a candy shop”.  Trust me, this ice cream shop looked like something out of Harry Potter.  Dusty old tomes littered shelves that vaulted skyward, pillars of knowledge towering over sleek glass counters showing off all manners of fancy chocolates and cookies.  

Do the staircases move too?

Me being a twenty year-old girl

The books aren't real, but the pineapple cake sure is!

This was in the ice cream parlor part of the place.  They had some really decadent flavors (70%+ chocolate), but the line snaked around from the entrance...next time.

Upon closer inspection, what had looked like books were really just wooden boxes done up to look like old manuals of medicine and treatises on herbs, cardboard faded to the exact shade of blue required to deceive at a distance.  Even one of the banners hanging by the entrance looked like an eye exam, each line of characters shrinking until the bottom-most line looked like a series of black squares. 

What really drew the eye, though, were the beautifully done-up boxes of pineapple and sun cakes, their covers graced by Art Nouveau made to evoke the western flavor of imported goods in early 20^th century Taiwan (probably when the hospital was in service).  They were also fairly expensive (at least for someone making a teacher's wages).  I'll definitely pick up a bunch to take back home as gifts, as I've yet to see anything that would make a better souvenir.

We diddle-fucked around some more before we headed back to the train station and met up with Ethan and Kelsey.  There was much rejoicing, we ate dinner (chicken stewed in rice wine, the frozen tofu tasted especially potent after soaking up the liquor), and then we headed over to Yuanlin.  

Risking my life in war-torn Taizhong.

A very representative shop in Medicine Alley.

All those boxes contain mystical, potent herbs.  Mystical to this round-eye.

The wine broth is getting to us.  Oh yeah, and the beer.

I don't know what I was expecting in Yuanlin, maybe a bumfuck town in the middle of nowhere.  Well, it's smaller, perhaps, by Taiwanese standards, but still big and bustling, and infinitely more interesting than Xizhi.  Ethan and Kelsey showed us around their lavish 3-bedroom apartment (that they share for 10,000 NT/month, roughly $300), and as they led us around they explained how this place had been a disgusting eyesore before they set about cleaning it up- junk everywhere, most surfaces stained with five layers of grime or substances better left unrecorded...toys and mildewed clothes cramming every drawer and spilling out from atop dressers.  And yet all that was left of the filth were three jars filled with food...or what food becomes after years of storage.  One was of pickled plums, one of black beans, and one of the most viscous and disgusting black bile I'd ever seen.  The landlady had passed on these heirlooms to them, and I mean that literally, these foodstuffs looked like antiques, the shit they find in ancient tombs and use to record the diet of people thousands of years past.  Kelsey said they were waiting for a time deep at night to throw them out, so nothing could be traced back to them.  That was all though, those three jars.  They'd obviously put in many hours cleaning the place because it was spotless, far cleaner than my own studio.  They even had a fitness room with an elevated wood floor and open to plenty of sunlight, which they should be getting as soon as this stint of shitty weather passes.

We drank beer deep into the night while watching the second Sherlock Holmes, but even alcohol couldn't hide the shitty pacing and convoluted plot line.  It didn't help that we were more interested in the mustache taped to the computer screen then what was actually happening (anybody play that drinking game before?).  At least Rachel McAdams' character died in the first twenty minutes or so.  After abandoning hope of finishing A Game of Shadows, Andrew and I sprawled out on their spacious leather sofa and awaited the next day.

Outside Kelsey and Ethan's apartment.

We hopped on the train to Changhwa the next morning, a few stops away on the local train.  I kept on thinking, 'this is where Pat lived.'  All those years ago at the end of our tenure in China, when we split ways, Pat, Randy and I, each choosing a radically different path.  Randy moved to Chengdu, to be with his girlfriend (now wife).  Pat moved on to Taiwan, ever restless for new lands.

I came back home.  Not the most exciting choice, but I have never regretted it.

Now I'm out teaching again, and going to Changhwa made me feel like I was chasing a phantom Pat, just like I keep encountering ghosts of my former teaching experience.  Maybe I'll continue to dog his footsteps throughout this year.  Footsteps in the sands of time.

Unfortunately, the guy sitting on the steps smoking politely moved out of the picture.  Wanted him in it, since this building is the Taizhong County Woman's Association

Our destination was the big Buddha statue on Bagua Mountain.  Bagua Mountain is a decent sized scenic area/open park, with a temple at the top.  Before the temple proper there's some pretty cool shit to see:

Silver Bridge.  I was expecting something perhaps a  bit more exotic with a name like that.

Wonder if this bed is always this dry.

Silver Bridge Falls.  The "Falls" were turned off.  You don't get to see them turned on because the picture I took of it sucks.  I mean, uh, because you need to see it for yourself!  I can't spoil everything for you!

Monument to some soldiers.

This temple houses a huge black Buddha, which its safe to say is the biggest attraction of Changhwa.  Meanwhile, in front of the actual Buddha there's an elevated walkway with far-reaching panoramic view of the city (it looks the same as most other cities in Taiwan), and below that a musical fountain show.

Kids were running all over the place, intentionally ruining my pictures.  Those little shits.

I like how they built this lower part, as if this was some defensible fort, because no one would walk down here for the view.

This is where the real view is.

Juxtaposition of old and new?  Subtle commentary on Taiwan culture?  Pretentious caption? 

Having seen the world's largest stone Buddha in Chendu, I was less interested in the Buddha than the area surrounding it.  This changed when I found out I could go inside.  If that first part makes me sound like a pretentious douche then you're really going to hate the next sentence.  The tightly spiraling steps reminded me of the Wild Goose Pagodas in Xi'an (on a smaller scale), and indeed there were different levels within the Buddha statue, with different stations devoted to a chapter in Sakyamuni's life.  Hah, suck that 2.25 in. of name-dropping.

It's a lot bigger up close.

 

Oh, you can go inside?  Hell yeah.  HELL YEAH!

Inside Buddha

We checked out the temple, which was lavishly ornate, and just like any other temple I've seen.  I've always felt that without an extensive background in Taoism or Buddhism a person probably misses out on a deeper experience in these places.  The religious significance is lost on somebody like me, and I'm not going to be a hypocrite by kneeling before one of the five disciples of Buddha.  Actually, despite being mostly tolerant towards religion, I've always felt opposed to Buddhism.  The central tenants of living unaffected, breaking away from earthly pleasures so you don't suffer emotional loss- it all sounds like a bunch of angsty bullshit to me.  Nothing lasts forever; friendships fade (hopefully not the important ones), money gets spent, the things bought with it crumble into dust or turn to ash, people die..you just accept these facts and move on.  It doesn't mean that because these things are transient they have no meaning.  Oh, so I guess I should give up and just separate myself from doing anything because it will only cause me pain in the end.  Actually, let's go one step further and call everything meaningless.  Fuck Buddhism. 

It was about this time that Tanya showed up, and we all chilled at the obligatory koi pond behind the temple before planning our next move.  It was nice to just sit down and admire the surroundings and the huge fish swarming the pool.

Dammit Andrew, always looking back at the camera...

This kid was 'feeding' the fish some greenery.

We decided at this point to walk back towards the train station and get some food.  Andrew and I had tickets for the 6pm rail back towards Taipei.  Zhanghua is a likable enough city, and if nothing else, it is quite close to Lugang, which is considered one of the cultural centers of Taiwan for old architecture and handicrafts.  I'll be back here again.

GODDAMMIT.

Confucius Temple, supposed to be one of the oldest temples in Taipei.  So...about three hundred years old.

Back at the train station, I asked for the train that would get us back to Xinwuri (where the HSR for Taizhong is located) around 5:30.  The woman gave me one of those 'you're being annoying' looks and gave me some tickets for 4:50, which gave me about 0 minutes to say goodbye to the others.  Sweet.  Waving goodbye from across the street, we hurried onto the local train.  Two stops later and we were left with plenty of time to dick around before the bullet train pulled in. 

Carton King.  Everything they sold inside was made out of recycled paper.  Including clothing and hand bags.

This if for you Onkel Tom!

Look closely.  Yeah, this sculpture is made from old ticket stubs.

Despite the coffee I drank, I was nodding off against the circular window in the cabin.  But not before I saw the sun, a fiery pink orb against the darkening sky.  And then I woke up.  Back in Taipei. 

Back to reality.