buddy the elf, what's your favorite color?

i love christmas. really, i do. i have watched elf about 3 times and love actually maybe 8 this past december. i don't mind christmas shopping, and i'm all about the red cups at starbucks.

seriously, this year i've made it my mission to overdose on christmas, because it's just depressing when it's gone. but i'm amazed at peoples' capacities to ruin a good thing, even when i'm making an honest effort to enjoy it.

like yesterday, my partner and i got chastised for not playing enough christmas music at our store. people, i'm going to let you in on a little something. everyone at my store works, at minimum, 4 shifts per week. for every shift, we listen to the christmas mix at least twice. and of the songs on that mix, 5% we actually like, 45% are tolerable, and 50% make us want to get on the ground and cover our ears in the fetal position. i often think to myself, how is it possible to have this many bad versions of this song? i bloody like this song, and this is terrible! keep in mind that the christmas stuff started before thanksgiving was even dead and buried in the ground. but just for you, gracious patrons, we do not get into the fetal position. we keep making your grande 6p gingerbread, 3 splenda, breve lattes with extra whipped cream, iced, no hot, no iced, no hot, no wait, do you make a frappuccino?... okay, hot. and happily so.

so this woman came in while we were up to our eyeballs in people, and complained that we never have christmas music playing. at the moment, we were taking a break with some reggae. my supervisor told her that we switch over every so often because we're all just a bit burnt out, but if she was planning to stay, he would gladly switch to the christmas mix for her. no, she explained, she just wanted to get her drinks and go. she actually never stays when she comes in. she just finds it offensive that at the one completely unpredictable time that she comes into the store for 30 seconds each day, we don't happen to have the christmas mix on. then she whined that we don't serve marshmallows and was on her way. "merry christmas," i called after her, to no response, of course.

hear that? that's the sound of my life being sucked out of me as we speak.

lattes aren't worth it.

a few days ago, i had excruciating pain in all the knuckles in my right hand. i'm not someone who typically bows to pain. i deal with pain. i'm good with pain. but that was bad enough to distract me. and today, my elbow, the right one of course, is the problem.

i'm almost certain that starbucks is giving me carpal tunnel syndrome.
damn frappuccinos.

personality tests

lately, my family has taken a number of personality tests, partially because it'd be good for us and partially out of curiosity.

i have recently discovered that i am a blue-white, very nearly a blue-white-yellow.

and also that i am an enfp. more importantly, i also learned that, as such, i am typically attracted to intp's and infj's.

somehow, this explains a great deal, about me, and about the hims i seem to choose.

i really wish i'd known this a year ago.
or three.
or maybe even five.




to be honest, i'm very tired of hurting, and really i just wish it would all go away. this week marks 60 days, and i am saddened to find that, on occasion, i still feel compelled to cry. i'd like to think i've forgiven, because being unable to do so is only going to hurt me - slowly eat away at me so that i remember nothing about him but my own bitterness. this would be unjust as, truly, i mostly felt much, much sweeter things than bitterness. some things, more deeply, wildly, and beautifully than i ever thought i could again. and others, more painfully and recklessly than i'd ever hoped to revisit after the one that took me a year to extract.
despite all this, i have no desire to utter that forgiveness, much less express it in a meaningful way. still, part of me feels that the dreams, the nervous twitching, or maybe even that sick feeling i get at the bottom of my stomach when i uncover that letter or those entries will go away if i do. the other part of me, however, believes that any utterance will only be disregarded, or un-reciprocated, or worse, criticized. that somehow, the whole thing will be concluded to be my own fault, and i, being ever-true to form, will accept the blame. it's hard to say which course of action is more unbearable, but even more difficult to admit that the reason i refuse to act is because i'm sure i'll cave. and i absolutely cannot cave, because, i know, absolutely, that it wasn't my fault, and even more absolutely, that i can't take the humiliation again. blessed are the poor in spirit, He said, for they shall be filled. i don't know that i'm ready to feel that poor again before i wait for You to fill me up. i don't think i even have the capacity for that kind of humility anymore.

voting.

apparently, people will come out of the woodwork for a free cup of coffee.

and apparently, there really are more obnoxious people than i thought.

and for the love of God, no, you cannot substitute a small cup of coffee for a large frappuccino. on what planet does that seem like an even substitution?

january. january.

"miss meckes... i'm sorry, but you have hepatitis b."

"it's nothing i haven't heard before."
or so the saying goes.

one thing i really love about taiwanese health care is that doctors generally believe in the body's natural defenses. unlike back home, where we pump ourselves with over-the-counter medication, vaccines, antibiotics, and prescription drugs, the taiwanese are very wary of putting foreign agents into our bodies. i've been hard-pressed to find cough syrup, niquil, ibuprofin, or even aspirin. in fact, i brought most of those supplies, and the closest i've gotten here are multivitamins and those packets of vitamin c that you mix in with hot water and drink when you're sick. i know, it seems cruel for women to live without ibuprofin, but their solution to those unbearable cramps is to simply drink more warm liquids. i have tested this theory over the course of a month, and it actually works. i'm a believer in luke-warm water these days. but upon visiting doctors, they usually try to find other alternatives to your problems. herbs. getting more sleep. less stress in your life. staying warmer.

i've learned to appreciate the simplicity of those solutions. back home, i found myself merely wanting a pill that would allow me to live the exact same way, when the obvious solution was to just slow down.

naturally, their reluctance to putting medicine into your system also translates to things like x-rays and, of course, vaccinations. wow, my mom would love it here.

that's why, when i came calling to a local clinic looking for my hepatitis booster shots, they suggested that i DON'T get them. really? i thought. because i'm supposed to. it's what i read on the who website. though they also told me to get the japanese e. vaccine, and NOBODY carries it! "it only boosts you another 5%, maybe. and you're young and healthy. we should just check your antibody count. if they're high enough, it won't even be necessary for a month of travel. and as for japanese e., they only have that for children. at 22, if you don't already have it, it's unlikely that you'll get it." when all was said and done and he'd answered all my questions, i consented to simply checking my antibodies and going from there. besides, checking the antibody count was expensive enough... i can't imagine what they'd charge me for the actual vaccines. and by expensive, i mean all of $20. welcome to national health care.

he drew some blood and told me to come back after three days to see the result. because of my job, i didn't get back until today. another doctor was in, but he also spoke english. he took me into the back, glanced at my chart, took a breath and told me i have hepatitis b.

".....i have hepatitis b?" i asked.
"yes. you have it," he confirmed.

suddenly, my mouth went dry, my heart raced, and my entire experience in taiwan flashed before my eyes. how is that even possible? i thought. is that even possible? i've led an almost painfully celibate life... i don't even have someone to cuddle with during a movie, and you're telling me that somehow i contracted a disease that is, by and large, mostly passed on through sexual intercourse?!?! now what? i wondered. treatment? is it treatable? should i go back to america right now? can i go back to america? were those previous shots worth crap? did they malfunction and give me the disease instead of protecting me? i know that if it's unlikely to happen, it will probably happen to me, but COME ON! my luck can't possibly be that bad!

"oh, i'm sorry! i was thinking antigen... this is your antibody count. no, you're fine! your antibody levels are very high. you don't need another shot."
"oh my goodness, you scared me."
"haha! sorry! don't worry about getting it when you travel. you're very healthy."

at least i managed to laugh a little afterwards.


but son of a b. he really had me for a second there.

i wasn't meant to be cool

"too cool for school."
or so the saying goes.

a few months ago, chris walked into work, and proceeded to tell me about his awkward morning. on his way to pick up breakfast at a local sandwich shop, he saw a pretty girl and waved to her. moments later, he sneezed, producing a profuse amount of mucus in the process. you'd be surprised by how discolored and thick your mucus gets in taipei.

to curb the potential pointlessness of his tale, he explained to me his immediate thoughts while he furiously searched for a tissue. really, he said, i was thinking, cool people don't do that. do what?, i asked, sneeze? not just sneeze, joy. sneeze so that copious amounts of snot are emitted from their nostrils while they catch it in their hands and still try to save face, he replied. it's not about the sneezing, but about how awkward i looked doing it. think about it, joy. cool people don't do that.

his reflection on being cool did little more than make me laugh at the time. that is, until wednesday.

i was on my way to work, when i got road burn i haven't felt since that day with the truck. the day that left gashes in my hips for months, marred by the gravel. every day, i live in denial that i have another 10 hour workday ahead of me. i leave home with (sort of) sufficient time to get to work. really, "sufficient" is defined less by how early i leave and more by how gloriously reckless my bus driver is. it just so happens that my alley faces directly to a bus stop. unfortunately, my alley lacks crosswalks, and taking a crosswalk just to get to the bus stop would take me at least another 5 minutes. so to sidestep it all, i wait until traffic is clear, make my way to the center divider, then cross the second half of the street when it's (mostly) clear. on very rare occasions, i have a clear shot all the way across. and wednesday at approximately 8:20am, my friends, just happened to be one of those days.

it's common knowledge in taiwan, though not in most of the western world, that you can cross a street even if motor scooters are coming because there really are no set lanes, and they can easily go around you if you get in their way. i was hurrying to my bus stop when the scooters just started barreling down wenhua lu in my direction. i can make it, i thought to myself, though there was one scooter moving faster than the others. i hesitated for a second: do i slow down or speed up? going at my current pace will cause a collision. if i hurry, i can probably make it, and if i stop altogether, i risk the onslaught of traffic that follows the scooters about 5 or 10 seconds later. it was as if the crazy side of me, the one that compels me to do things like move to non-english speaking places, and the practical side of me were in combat. and for once, the practical side was just as strong. half my body obeyed its usual master, while the other half followed my practical side, remembering how little it wanted to hit anything again, EVER. and in the process, i completely bit it in the street. my legs slid out from under me. i lost my shoe. fortunately, most of the scooters weren't moving as quickly as i'd expected, so i had lots of time to hobble off the side of the road.

and i realized in that moment: cool people don't take dives onto gravel in the street. a cool person wouldn't be bleeding profusely from 4 open wounds in his or her foot right now. and cool people wouldn't be shouting profanities to themselves right now about how much that son of a bitch was hurting.

i did clean myself up once i got to work, and all seemed fine. i used to roller blade as a kid. i've skinned myself more times than i can remember playing soccer or with my brothers. i never bother to take these things seriously. so i cleaned my wounds, covered them, and went about my business.

and all seemed well, until today, the day after cheap hippie kickboxing. it was the hardest workout we've done in a while, but i thought i was fine. my wounds seemed to be scabbing, and they didn't really hurt while i was working out. i got home, showered, and cleaned myself up, only to wake up the morning after in excruciating pain and with a completely swollen foot. for the first time EVER, i spent my whole day at school barefoot. it hurt too much to wear my slippers. i couldn't go up and down stairs. i hobbled from place to place, and was probably crankier than usual. and my kids kept asking me questions about what happened, which just sounded plain silly when i omitted the part about jaywalking, since that's never a good thing to advocate to a group of 6 year-olds. since then, i've taken medication for the swelling, which seems to have improved and generally tried to keep it clean, though i'm still limping.

when i become such a wuss?

yes, it's finally happened

"rest in peace."
or so the saying goes.

i'm pretty sure that after almost 3 years of faithful service, my ipod is now dead. i knew it was coming, but i still maintain that it was too young to die.

may it rest in peace.

the stuff good stories are made of

"in the struggle for survival, the fittest win out at the expense of their rivals"
or so the saying goes.

last weekend, i decided the time had come for me to venture outside taipei. certainly, i'd been to taichung before, but i'd never visited southern taiwan, much less taken a weekend trip since i arrived in june. then fate smiled upon me in the form of other peoples' general restlessness. as chad is leaving in about 3 weeks, he's been really keen on making the most of his last days here. because we celebrated 10/10 last week, he took advantage of the holiday to go to kenting, a beach town very near the southernmost tip of taiwan. he invited chris and me to come along. while chris was busy with mormon stuff this weekend, i thought it would make a good excuse for me to get out of town for a while. though i would be arriving 3 days later, at least i would know someone there to explore/get into mischief with. furthermore, mitch and his friend sam were heading down there for an extended holiday as well, and as the proverb goes, the more the merrier. when i'm involved, however, it is always an adventure. this is a fact i must always establish, assess, and accept every time i leave the house. establish, because i know how things go. assess, mostly monetarily. how much can i afford the mishaps that will undoubtedly come? and accept, because 99% of the situation is how you deal with it. some say it's the law of attraction at play, but i call it mostly blind luck.

i made my way down to kaoschung early saturday morning. well, early is a relative term. actually it was mid-morning, but the cool thing is that taiwan has already established a high speed rail system, which makes a trip across the entire country merely 1.5 hours of relaxation and countryside. i got into kaoschung before noon, hoping to catch a bus to kenting within the hour and get there by the early afternoon. because i had no idea where anything is, i took a cab, who seemed to mostly understand what i was telling him. unfortunately, mostly isn't quite good enough when asking for the bus station, because he took me to the dodgiest bus depot i've ever seen. and i've seen some dodgy bus depots. i got out and cringed a little, wondering how i was ever going to find a way to kenting, when another friendly bus driver who was on break, noticed my apparent befuddlement and asked me if i needed help. his english was minimal, but i managed to convey to him that i wanted to go to kenting.
wo yao qu kenting.
he pointed to what looked like a city bus, and told me that was a good way to get there. great, i thought. my new-found friend then told the city bus driver where i wanted to go, i purchased a ticket, and hesitantly boarded a bus headed toward oblivion. yes, oblivion. i had no idea where it was going or if i was even going the right way.
this might be a good time to note that while it takes you 1.5 hours to get 90% of the way to kenting, it takes approximately 3 to travel the remaining 10%. southern taiwan is nothing like my world in taipei. taipei is lively and busy. the world of southern taiwan is... desolate... void of human occupancy. the bus stopped at non-bus-stops, and people kept getting on and off at random. i planted myself in my chair, and told myself over and over that, no matter where this bus was going, as long as i didn't leave, i wouldn't be lost in the middle of nowhere. even if i ended up back in kaoschung, at least i could find sign of human life there. my 3 hour trip went something like... shack... shack... bus stop... shack... oh, 7-11!... field... mountain... shack. and on and on until we reached the coast. from this point on, it would be a matter of figuring out which sparsely-populated beach civilization was supposed to be kenting, the so-called tourist capital of southern taiwan. furthermore, chad wasn't answering his phone. he knew i would be coming into town, but i heard nothing from him. i resolved myself to the fact that i would have a good time no matter what, even if i was my only company.

finally, my bus driver pulled over to a non-descript bus stop and nodded in my direction. the thicker crowds of people outside and my semi-useful map in lonely planet taiwan seemed to indicate that this was, in fact, kenting. i stepped outside and found my way to the nearest coffee shop, where i pondered my next plan of attack. let's see... chad wasn't answering his phone, i didn't have mitch's number, and i didn't have a place to stay. first priority was figuring out where i could stay, then devising a way to get a hold of my comrades. the luxury of being in reach to teach is that, while i didn't have mitch's contact information, someone else in my phone was bound to. and! i was lucky enough to find that person. unlike chad, whose phone died, mitch answered his phone and told me that they were at a shooting range, but that they would call me when they came back for dinner. that left only the hotel. despite the fact that kenting is in virtually the middle of nowhere, there is a slough of hotels there. surely, one of them would have a place to stay. unfortunately, at the first 20 i tried, i got an unhappy result:
duibuqi, wo yao fangjian. ni you meiyou yi ge?
yi ge fangjian jiu?
dui. wo yao shuijiao.
meiyou!
aiyo!
this went on nearly an hour until one of the hotel owners was kind enough to call some friends and find me an open room. i had a place to stay and i had reached the guys, so i was good. onto the beach! kenting is arguably the most beautiful place i've visited here. the beach was serene and extremely clean. there are no waves here, and it's surprising how peaceful it is when you can barely hear the feeble crashing of the waves on the beach. i had some good music, and paced up and down, in and out of the water for almost 2 hours. the beach made me feel connected once again to california and all the feelings associated with it. for the first time in a while, i felt like myself again. i really must visit the beach more often.

mitch broke the silence when he called, and i made my way over to their hotel, where i found 3 disheveled men... chad the worst of them all. apparently, through an unexpected twist of events in his own schedule, he had come to kenting with only one change of clothes. this had led him to purchase new underwear just that morning and the best shirt ever. it was a muscle tank with a skinny boy on it flexing his muscles. at the bottom it said "i'm number 1!" i could tell he hadn't bothered to shave in days. tired though i was after my day of travel, i was happy to see them all, and they disclosed their plans for the evening. dinner. night market. possibly a club, a pub, or ktv. beach. hookah. not necessarily in that order. those who know me well also know i'm game for anything, so i told them to lead the way. we wandered through the nightmarket, exploring hand-made crafts and unusual clothes, and playing with the idea of a henna tattoo. i still think i'm going to get one, if only to experiment with how exactly i feel about having something marked on my body. our wanderings eventually led to a nearby pub, where we ordered a large hookah and a few pitchers of beer. i had one of the loveliest conversations i've experienced in months that night. starting over is something i need in my life. i give second chances generously, and grasp any opportunity to build from new chances. after hours of conversation at the pub, we made our way back to the boys' room, where mitch and i stayed up all night watching the rugby world cup and the colbert report... chad and sam made it through some, but couldn't muster the willpower to stay awake the whole time. even i faded in and out. i trudged home rather tired around 5:30am, where i slept on a very hard mattress.

the next day brought many adventures. it began with a quiet breakfast and a morning at the beach, a few hours of shopping and exploring, and then an eventual scooter rental. this time, however, i did not crash it. i found a shop, and the proprietor asked me several times if i'd ever driven one before. yes, i said. yes, i'm a foreign woman, but i have driven one. unfortunately, it didn't look very good that i couldn't remember where the brake was, but she hesitantly handed the scooter over, and i got the hang of it quickly. i drove up and down the coast, attempting to understand the arbitrary traffic rules and praying to God that i wouldn't get stranded. when i came back to familiarity, mitch called and asked if i was up for something. i told him i had planned to take another bus ride from hell back to kaoschung in the late afternoon so that i could catch a train back to taipei. well, he said, he and sam were going to stop at the aquarium and then drive back to kaoschung, so i may as well go with them, right? at least i'd have company, and it would be a new experience. i agreed that it sounded like the way to go.

in theory, that is.

we left the aquarium when it closed, hoping to get back to kaoschung in two hours. unfortunately, after a few wrong turns and way too much time at dinner, we did not get back into town until 9:30. we returned our scooters and dawdled back to the train station, only to discover that the last high speed train had left at... 9:30. we were screwed. the next train back to taipei wasn't high speed and wasn't leaving until 11:30. this meant arrival in taipei around 5:30 or 6:00. or we could wait for the next hs train in the morning, but that would bring us into taipei too late, and sam and i wouldn't make it to work on time. this left the bus. a 4 hour ride that couldn't possibly be too hard to secure, right? well, you would think it wouldn't be difficult, but it was. it felt like the entire city wanted a night bus. terrible thoughts kept running through my mind. what if we were stuck here all night? what if we couldn't take the first hstrain out in the morning? what if we were stuck here all day tomorrow as well, and i had to explain my irresponsibility to my boss? how screwed, exactly, would i be? after an hour of searching and being put on waiting lists, i was beginning to lose hope, though i tried to maintain a positive exterior. sam wasn't talking altogether because he didn't want to lose it, and mitch was getting more noticeably frustrated by the second. i tried to laugh it off, but my brain was screaming at me. i was so tired. i'd hardly slept at all the entire weekend, and i would have to be energetic for my kids the nenxt day. finally, when we thought we might not find anything, we found two separate buses. i went by myself, while they waited for the later bus out. i think mitch felt bad, as it was based on his guarantee of speedy transport back to taipei that we arrived in kaoschung so late. needless to say, i didn't get home until about 5a.m. i slept for 2 1/2 hours, then got myself to work. it was a long day, especially since i have chinese on monday nights, but i kept telling myself that i was lucky to make it at all.

and that, my friends, was kenting. i can't wait to go back.



on a topic unrelated in even the most remote way, i think my ipod is dead. i don't know how or why this happened. it simply froze. i'm running out the battery right now, hoping that it might unfreeze it. i really haven't been abusive to this ipod, so i'm baffled as to what happened to it. but it's almost 3 years old and therefore, will have to be replaced in the not-too-distant future. i'm hoping it can't hear me. sometimes i hate technology.

also, i don't normally talk about music here, and it's been a long time since i've said anything, but... well... i really, really love anberlin's semi-new album "cities." i've been following them on and off since i was a freshman in college, and i'm extremely impressed with the quality of their music over the years. what began as merely an attempt to depart from stereotypical mainstream christian music has led to some truly beautiful songwriting. high five, stephen christian.

another addition to the list of the (many) stupid things i've done

my weekend. i can safely say that it was legendary - one of those days that i will tell my kids about. also, it was arguably the most terrifying and embarrassing days of my life. i don't really even know where to begin. okay, first things first:
it all begins, my friends, with a guy named chad. i work with chad, and it's a whole lot of glorious. like, he comes up with ideas for (stupid) things to do, but seems to think that such things are better when more people are involved. i'm not much on coming up with (stupid) things to do, but i'll gladly join along if someone's looking for a partner. and thus, adventures in southeast asia ensue. along with bruised backs, indonesian death treks (or maybe that was my idea?), getting caught in torrential downpours in the middle of nowhere, scooter crashes, and a very unclear night involving a hi-life, a curb, and me wondering if he was dead to name a few.

so chad approached chris and me last week, telling us that there's a political rally in taichung (south of where we live), and that a promoter wanted a few foreigners to come down, give a thirty second speech, and sing "we are the world." great, i thought. no big deal. AND they would be paying us NT$1,000 each, which is like $35. SWEET. so chris told us he couldn't come, but i agreed to it. i got to our bus stop in taipei, and chad told me... oh, p.s. (he actually never says "p.s." but i'll pretend he does) i just found out we actually have to give our speeches in chinese, not english. WHAT? he then went on to say that if we couldn't both do it, then one of us would have to speak and represent both of us, at which point i told him it would bloody be him, because I don't speak chinese! unless they wanted to know my name and that i happen to think guotie hen haochi!

so while we were on the bus, i could tell that the coordinator who invited us to this event was unhappy with my decision not to speak. so i told her... okay, if you help me translate a short speech into pinyin and let me take it on stage, i will do it. she agreed, so i decided that i was fine with it so long as i had a crutch.

we got to the event, and while it occupied a large area (a stadium) and it had a large stage, i wasn't really worried. there weren't too many people out there. i told myself, this isn't so bad. i can do this. we ran through a short rehearsal, and i was feeling okay. chad was traipsing through the local political party supporters and bumming souvenirs wherever he could. i suppose some thanks is in order, as he did acquire some snazzy blue shoes for me, the symbol for this political party. actually, i didn't know that there were so many ways to wear blue shoes, but i think i've seen them all after this day. chad also managed to walk away with a taiwanese flag and the coolest hat i've ever seen. the event began about 20 minutes after our souvenir-hunting adventure. and while there were many stools available (not chairs or benches, people. stools), it wasn't all that crowded. no problem, i kept telling myself.

40 minutes elapsed, and i could tell it was rather loud out there, while i was back stage with the other foreigners. they hurriedly told us it was time to go, strapped headset microphones to us, and paraded us out there singing michael jackson. i think this might be a good time to mention that i was also carrying a miniature american flag and waving it proudly for the crowd, amongst my other american, korean, and african comrades. we got out on the stage, and i could't even believe it. there were, no exaggeration, thousands of people out there. it was more people than i've ever seen in my life. and they were all expecting me to say something! at a rally! in chinese! and i don't speak chinese! i was in the midst of global politics, and i had nothing! it was like having one of those frustrating nightmares where you're naked or you can't find what you're looking for or you just... can't... seem to reach... your destination. there i was, standing out there, the stupidity of what i'd agreed to do slowly dawning on me as the girl before me finished her speech, realizing that i had to move - had to make a sound - anything! the other foreigners had nervously given their speeches, including chad, whose speech didn't sound anything like the one he'd read to the rest of us on the car ride to taichung. i slowly strode in front of my foreign companions (the taiwanese are big on moving forward when it's your turn to speak on stage). i had 4 or 5 sentences written on a paper. but i was so nervous that i thought i might just pass out. i've never spoken or performed in front of that many people before! i began my speech: "ni hao! wo shi joy. wo shi meiguoren..." okay, so far, i'm okay, i thought. then i got to an unfamiliar part of my speech: the part where i had to tell them i'm from california. blast! i couldn't remember how to pronounce the word for california! what were the tones again? okay, 3, 1... damn, that's not right! i stumble through it, and look down at the rest of my speech. it was like all the letters were moving. like i'd never seen them before, much less known how to pronounce them! i tried to force a few words out, but the tones were all wrong! it didn't even sound like chinese coming from my mouth! who knows what sort of offensive things i was saying while my tones shifted erratically! i think i was even inventing new tones up there! so i skipped to the end, where i proudly announced: wo ai taiwanren! xie xie!

they clapped, and i finally escaped the stage, where it took me a good 2 minutes to stop shaking. after the event, we were given free transport to one of the local night markets in taichung, and then embarked on a long ride back to taipei.

wow.

what was the political event, you ask? it was a rally to support taiwan's recent bid for a spot in the u.n. they really want to get back in there, something i fully support. also, i got to meet the mayor of taipei, who, people say, will probably be the next president of taiwan. i got pictures with him and everything!

in all, not a bad day. i keep envisioning my children in the future, telling their friends that their mom was crazy when she was young. i don't even know what came over me. who was this person standing in front of what felt like all of taiwan telling people she liked shuijiao??? i'm strangely proud of myself, yet simultaneously horrified.

and that, my friends, was my weekend. changing the face of taiwanese global politics, because i'm sure what i said will have a profound impact on the upcoming election, and especially the u.n.'s decision about admitting taiwan. hey, i do what i can. help their youth build a better future during the week, get involved in politics on the weekend. may as well give back, right? right.

question: why did the chicken cross the road?...

...to avoid dying of dysentery, of course.

but seriously. show of hands: who remembers that stupid question from childhood, and furthermore, who thought it to be utterly pointless and irrelevant to anything pertaining to real life. i mean, chickens don't cross roads, right?

ah, see... that's where you're wrong. clearly, you've never been to indonesia.

the concept of chickens crossing the road never made any sense to me until i found myself in the back seat of a van as it whizzed through the windy roads of lombok island, indonesia. the roads are about as wide as a one-way, one-lane street, but people in indonesia find it perfectly adequate for a 2 lane highway next to a precarious cliff overlooking the ocean. i just smile and act like i have complete faith that our driver won't lose control of the vehicle and send us plummeting over a cliff into the tropical waters below. i also act like it doesn't bother me that i don't have a seat belt. i guess people sitting in the back seat don't get one. it was on this particular car trip, just before our treacherous trek up mount rinjani, that i saw dozens of chickens cross the road. our driver honked time after time to get them to move out of the way. apparently, they're not smart enough to simply move when they see oncoming traffic, nor do they seem to learn that the road = bad. so they insist on crossing the road and just narrowly escaping an especially gruesome and squishy death.

ah, but i'm getting ahead of myself. this post, really, is about my trip to indonesia, not about chickens. but where do i begin? our harrowing car trip-slash-exercise in effective chicken-dodging tactics is merely the beginning of the many adventures chad, chris, and i experienced on this trip.

last saturday, we arrived in bali. we decided to spend our first night in kuta, a popular destination for tourists. and while the beaches of kuta are beautiful and there are many people, it is so developed that you lose a lot of indonesian personality. starbucks? dunkin donuts? pizza hut? please. if we wanted all those things, we could go back to the states. nevertheless, we discovered that there was a very good middle eastern place down the street from our bungalow, with sheesha for 4usd. 4 dollars and hookah? sign me up. we downed hummus and enjoyed our apple apple tobacco before moving on to some of the local night clubs and resorts. our first stop was ku de ta, which was right on the beach. unfortunately, despite being beautiful, it charged way too much money for drinks. by western standards, it's about right, but in indonesia, you shouldn't spend more than 3 or 4 usd for a mixed drink. feeling a bit underdressed and uncomfortable with the high prices, we moved on to two local favorites: crusoe's and Mbargo. we all enjoyed crusoe's because of the live music and the laid-back atmosphere. but it turns out that this place was also something of a brothel. it didn't take long to figure out. while i was uncomfortable as the only female non-prostitute there, i found the social interactions around me fascinating. i actually liked studying body language and male-female hierarchy. i was angered by the superiority and the sense of entitlement that the men had. even the young ones. i was saddened that the girls were so desperate and by such a degeneration of love and sex.

but then again, i was only observing.

the next day, we spent a few hours on the beach (great surfing, p.s.), before moving on to ubud, a smaller city more inland. i think that ubud was probably my favorite place. i liked our accommodations best there as well. it was quieter, less crowded, less developed, and more bohemian. we wandered through the shops and talked with the locals for a while, then made our way down to the sacred monkey forest. for 1usd, you can buy a bag of bananas to feed wild monkeys. they will come up to you and take them, and some will even sit in your lap. they're very intelligent and incredibly adorable. also, they're very spoiled in the sacred monkey forest. chad took out a banana to feed to one of them. distracted, he didn't notice that another was creeping up behind him until it snatched the entire bag from his hands. i also witnessed chris' monkey mishap. he held out a banana to offer to a monkey, but it didn't want that banana. it wanted the bag. so it tried to grab it, but chris wrestled it away. at this point, the monkey bore its teeth, showing its true colors. chris tried to give the bag back, but at this point, our monkey friend was bored. short tantrum, as it were. nevertheless, chris did manage to give it one banana, but this wasn't enough. it kept throwing said banana to the ground with contempt. spoiled, spoiled monkeys. after this, we had a lovely dinner in a garden and attended an indonesian dance show. the costume and the makeup was amazing, but i think what fascinated me most was the style of dancing. their traditional dancing tells stories through eyes, hands, fingers, and feet. there's very little movement of the entire body and very little facial expression, so the entire dance is punctuated by subtle movements. it is very beautiful and entrancing to watch.

the next day, we had an early cooking lesson at cafe wayan, an indonesian restaurant. they took us to one of their larger restaurants, where we made a 5 or 6 course meal and then ate it. the wonderful thing about the food is that we used only fresh ingredients. they actually had a garden next to the kitchen, where they could pick their spices and vegetables for the meals. the food was amazing, and we all thought that perhaps we were slipping into a food coma. we then spent some time shopping and wandering around before deciding to rent motor scooters and explore bali a little more extensively. this sounded like a lot of fun to me, though i'd never ridden one and i had to remember LEFT side. LEFT side. RIGHT turn, DANGER turn. unfortunately, my lack of experience became painfully apparent when i turned too widely and hit a parked van outside a hotel. i pretty much bounced off it. everyone could see the horror cross my face when it happened. for those who don't know, i've never hit anything in my life. never been in an accident. never received a ticket. chad and chris were quite supportive through it all, though they couldn't keep themselves from laughing. i imagine that i'll never live it down. we had to postpone our motor scooter adventure to get an estimate on fixing the bumper and the scooter. they took us to a local body shop, where they were quoted about 90usd to fix the car and 50usd to fix the bike. they promised me that if i simply paid that amount, all would be forgiven and, more importantly, forgotten. i didn't argue, because i imagined how much trouble i would have been in had this happened in the states. no international license. no license to drive a scooter. no insurance. hmmmmm. very rarely can you pay a paltry $150 to make something go away. after paying my debts and briefly seeing my life flash before my eyes, i decided to get back on and keep truckin. gotta get back on the horse, right? i am happy to report that i didn't hit anything else for the rest of our trip. we traversed the winding roads of rural bali, stopping every so often to take in the vast sprawl of rice fields around us. we also visited the "elephant caves." don't get too excited. there weren't real elephants there. it's named after ganesh, one of the hindu gods which is, surprise surprise, embodied in elephant form. there, we found a temple, pools to wash oneself before entering the sacred caves, the biggest butterfly i've ever seen in my life, and literal caves where people can go to pray and make offerings. what fascinated me most was the hindu concept of three. they have a sort of idol where one can pray (and i think make offerings to as well?), and our tour guide explained that three is an extremely important number in the hindu tradition. the three statues we saw represent creator, protector, destroyer; birth, living, death; peace with people, the divine, and nature - the view of the world within these lenses of "three" is an integral part of hinduism. very interesting.

the next day, we decided to take a long bus ride and short flight to lombok, an island not far removed from bali. it is, by and large, the road less traveled, and we wanted to experience some true island living. upon arrival, we found our accommodations for the night and set out exploring. the island of lombok is even quieter than kuta. there are far fewer tourists, but the poverty is far more apparent than on bali. i noticed that many people have almost nothing. there are also several family farms with small shacks for people to live in. it made me feel like i had so much, seeing how little they lived with.

fun fact: did you know that indonesia has the world's largest muslim population? while the island of bali is hindu, the other islands are muslim. also, did you know that people get up to pray in mosques at absurd hours like 3am? i discovered this because my hotel was next door to a mosque. wowy, prayer is noisy!

we had a delicious authentic indonesian meal, and explored our options for our stay on lombok? scuba diving or mountain climbing? scuba diving or mountain climbing? choices, choices. i had decided against scuba diving, so i left it up to the guys to decide what they wanted. if they decided to take the courses to get their padi certifications, i would either climb a mountain by myself or spend my days snorkeling, swimming, or lying on the beach. finally, we reached a consensus: we would all climb... nay, conquer... nay, bitch slap... mount rinjani. we'd already done some recreational mountain climbing in taipei. how hard could it be, right?

...i'm actually surprised to be alive after that climb.


nobody warned us about what we'd be facing, and that we would need a fair amount of materials to make this trip comfortable, if not simply possible. materials like: sweatshirts, strong hiking boots with excellent arch support, long pants, and maybe a month of steady conditioning. the trail began easy enough... climbing over roots and up a few gentle slopes. but as we progressed, the mountain became a monster of its own. by the time we realized what we were facing, we couldn't turn back... we'd come too far! we'd marched too much to turn back, but the mountain was getting steeper by the step. it began as probably a 25 degree climb for the first quarter, which then evolved into 45. that's okay, we could deal. but the next leg - the leg after lunch - was something like 50 degrees. i was so tired, i wanted to simply pass out. i'd felt like i'd lost all will to keep moving, much less keep breathing. i suppose what kept me going was chris' unfortunate bout with what can only be described as dysentery. and chad was climbing in berkenstocks. surely, if they could keep moving, i could do it too. we finally reached post 3, about 3/4 up the mountain. we would make camp there, eat dinner, then rise early the next morning to make the last 1/4 trek up to the rim at sunrise. after that, we would hike down to the bottom. unfortunately, i had a few thin sweaters that i managed to layer to generate a paltry extra heat, chris was still suffering, and chad had only his sarong, which he wore as a cape for warmth. it was a long, blustery night for us. while the company that we were going through provided a guide, porters, food, and camping equipment, we were otherwise ill-equipped for this journey. chris got his own tent, which was probably good because he was feeling so sick, so chad and i shared, and probably got about 3 hours worth of sleep combined. we shivered and turned all night long trying to generate enough warmth to go to sleep. parts of my body were so hot, they were sweating, while other extremities were so cold, they had goose bumps. somehow, we made it through our night of misery and arose in the still of darkness for the last leg of our climb. the air was the cleanest i've ever breathed. the forest was so quiet it was almost deafening. the stars were brighter than i'd ever seen them. God's glory abounded. we witnessed the sun peaking up over the mountains of bali and the ocean as we hiked. however, this hike felt pretty much vertical, on loose sand and rock. but we're troopers, and we made it to the top. looking inside an active volcano is an experience i'll never forget. everything was so green and huge and beautiful. we breathed a sigh of victory as we shivered uncontrollably in the morning cold. after about an hour marveling at the top, we headed back down to base camp. okay, so the walk down was more of a stumble/slide. i may have scars forever.

verdict? totally worth it.

at base camp, we received transport to one of the ports at lombok so that we could take a boat to the gigi islands, a few desolate beaches about 45 minutes away. on the gigis, there are no motor vehicles, and everything moves a little more slowly. the ocean is clear and the sand is white. we arrived at the port, which is a whole lot of desperation crammed into one place. everywhere, people want to carry your bags, sell you something, do anything to extract money from you. they don't even ask. they see a car pull up, and they ambush it to carry your bags so that they can charge you. finally, we managed to escape and head to gigi. in transit, we met a friendly bar promoter named jules, who helped us find our way around the island. he knew good places to go, and was generally good company. we located an adequate place to sleep, and spent the rest of the night exploring the islands, eating, and having a few drinks. unfortunately, our trek in rinjani severely caught up to me on the islands. i woke up the next day with horrible stiffness and the worst hangover i've ever experienced. i hadn't even had much to drink the night before; it was something like 3 over the course of 6 or 7 hours. i'd simply been sipping, but it all hit me horribly the next day. i think it did not mix with my fatigue and dehydration, and it produced a very uncomfortable, persistent nausea all day long. it wasn't even intense, just a prolonged discomfort. chad was also struck with the same rigor mortis-like qualities in his limbs, and we both waddled from place to place. we couldn't even go up and down stairs without bracing ourselves. as is typical with our relationship, though, we thought it was a fun game to hit each other in the thighs unexpectedly, just to elicit a response. why? team-building, we say. chris, fortunately, didn't have the same problems. he actually recovered quite well from our trek, and i'm pretty sure he deserved it after 2 days of misery. he did, however, take a tremendous (and possibly cruel) amount of pleasure laughing at chad and me as we crept along and grimaced. nevertheless, we spent a relaxing day on the beach sipping cold fresh fruit drinks and wading in and out of the water. there's something so therapeutic about the ocean for me. simply being in it makes me feel alive... like the world is exactly the way it was meant to be.

after a morning and afternoon of leisure, we headed back to lombok via boat and to bali via plane for one more night in kuta. chris treated us all to a resort and a beautiful hotel room and we had a delicious dinner. apparently, i crashed as soon as we returned to our room from dinner, but i must say that it was the deepest and most complete sleep i've had in a long while.

the next day, we wandered around bali for a few hours. chad and i had one last balinese massage, and we all bid indonesia goodbye.

indonesia is beautiful and exotic. i only wish we'd had more time to do the scuba diving and surfing, but perhaps another day. this trip was incredible, and i'm so glad i went. i feel like my world opened up even more, and i'm hoping that my heart opened a little more with it. i wouldn't change a thing.




...except maybe the scooter accident.