THE PERFECT PLAN

Not so long ago, I promised the Misses Aprile and Etling (as well as Mister [Master?] Elston) that I would post the film my Chinese classmates and I made for our spring semester oral. Turns out that it already exists out there on the web-o-tron, hosted by the IU Language Center website.

Chinese Film Festival 2007

Note that the film won third place (I think we deserved better, but only one of us was able to attend the festival and cast a vote). By way of further recommendation, note that after a viewing, the eminent Tommy Smith was moved to write the following:

Erika Kougar's "A Perfect Plan" is a complex investigation of humanity at its most base. The plot structure recalls the bloody revenge tragedies of the Grecian stage, but Kougar -- in a deft subversion of form -- sets her action in a seemingly banal environment of suburban middle America. The film, which uses largely untrained Chinese-speaking actors and shot on consumer grade digital cameras, is a revelatory mixture of psychologiocal realism and low-grad camp. Notice the performances in the now classic "morgue" scene -- at the height of the dramatic tension, an actress looks directly into the camera and diffuses the moment with a high-pitched yelp. Some say Herzog pioneered the technique of using natural settings and pedestrian enviroments to tell stories of a deeper emotional resonance, but Kougar has taken the form one step further. For anyone wanting to see the next phase of filmic history, "A Perfect Plan" is not to be missed.

Not that I don't want to take full responsibility for this masterpiece (or for my very poor tones), but I must share the glory with my castmates and co-creators: Guo Kaiyi, Hou Anmei, and Jian Mosi. They were all a pleasure to work with and not only because they all thought I looked no older than 22. I'm so glad I started early on the Botox.

f- you, you f-ing foreigner -- I may look stupid but at least I'm cooler this way

Sorry the picture is fuzzy, but frankly I was afraid to get any closer

Less angry, more forlorn:


Elsewhere, I saw another innovative, if slightly vulgar, feline cooling method.

NATIONAL PALACE MUSEUM AND CHIANG KAI-SHEK MEMORIAL

Turns out the Dragon Boat Festival is really just a race that commemorates the suicide by drowning of an ancient poet. Yawn. Pass me another zongzi. So instead of sitting in the hot sun watching a bunch of morbid rowing, I decided to see some sights. One of my new friends here offered to take me to the National Palace Museum. I tried to take some pictures of the building and the adjacent park, but my Chinese-bought camera was malfunctioning. I'm assuming it had nothing to do with the issue of whether the Guomintang was "protecting" or "looting" the treasures of the mainland displayed therein when they hightailed it to Taiwan in 1949.

But this picture is better than I could have taken anyway. As you can see, the National Museum (Gugong bowuguan) is painted a vibrant yellow with a teal roof and sits pleasingly nestled in the lush foothills on the outskirts of the city.


Inside, you can see the famous meat stone and the equally famous jade cabbage, and you can listen to audio commentary about these "mouth-watering" treasures and try to wrap your head around about 8,000 years of history.

After casing the joint and learning new terms for words such as 'porcelain', 'intricate', 'touch', and 'fish-head-dragon-body', my companion and I headed back into the city for lunch and a visit to the Chiang Kai-Shek memorial.

This huge monument consists of four large structures on each side of a large square, with some nicely landscaped park areas within. Here is the imposing front gate.


The National Theater was undergoing renovation, but we were able to explore the National Music Hall across from it and to watch a couple of groups of teenagers on the terrace hanging out, breakdancing and doing kung-fu.


Everything on these buildings, from the railings to the doorways to the lamps and the eaves is incredibly detailed. Photographs don't do much to capture the vibrance of the colors. I was honestly almost hypnotized by the gorgeous ming red of the pillars.


Apparently the square itself isn't much used for congregating or recreating, but it is refreshing to stand in a wide open space, even a concrete one, in the middle of the dense city. Unfortunately, it is also very, very hot.


The memorial hall itself is opposite the gate. You can enter the lower level from one side, but I don't much recommend it. Better not to see the tacky souvenir shop and the jade hawkers and to instead imagine the grandeur that must lie within.


There's a pond on one side of the Music Hall with blessed shade and a pretty little bridge.


You can buy fish food from this machine and watch the Koi swarm. They make wonderful squishy sounds as they come to the surface and open and close their giant mouths to try to suck in some of the pellets. Yeah, I know - I never get pictures of the good stuff.

SUMMER SCHOOL

The second of a planned three stops on my world tour of the greatest national universities has commenced. Behold, my student ID for National Taiwan University:


I am still totally freaking out about it. I pull this out every so often just to marvel at the strangeness of how things turn out -- I am going to the best school in Taiwan dudes! -- as well as to remind myself of how far I've come. I can sort of feel the logic of the grammar taking over my brain but I have been assured that much is also happening at an unconscious level (or at least that is my excuse for watching a whole lot of Chinese television). For now though, there is the daily frustration of sometimes understanding very little. My Chinese teachers in Indiana were able to confine their speech mostly to words and patterns we recognized and to speak at a reasonable speed. But here, I am faced with rapid fire homonyms that I sometimes understand nothing from, even in the simplest transactions. It is extraordinarily demoralizing and infantilizing.

Last night I saw a room I really liked for sublet. It's on the fifth floor in a really nice area, down a quiet alley, very convenient for school, and has a rooftop garden. I hope they choose me! As much as I appreciate my current landlord stopping by at 10pm to check on me and to bring a gift of rice and herring snacks, the room I am in now is windowless and rather musty and the bed appears to be made of straw. [UPDATE: I got the new room, but won't move for another two weeks. Still, yeah!]

This weekend is the dragon boat festival. I'm not really sure what it involves, because everytime I ask someone about it they insist on feeding me a zongzi, the festival's traditional snack. Needless to say, I am concerned that it may not involve actual dragons.

REN SHAN REN HAI (people mountain people sea)

Taiwan is the second most densely populated country in the world, and it shows. It feels even more so when every single one of the capital city's 2.7 million inhabitants is carrying an umbrella (yu san) as a feeble defense from the cruel June rains. It has been pouring rain every day since I arrived and is forecast to continue...
I thank my lucky stars that no one here knows enough of Seattle's reputation to make that eternally unfunny joke that I must be used to the rain. Good thing, because I am not, in fact, used to a perpetual tropical downpour. The extremely moist climate supports lush greenery in the city and surrounding mountains, but wreaks havoc on human-built structures. It seems that any building more than a few years old starts to sweat from all the heat and humidity. It makes for kind of a run-down looking city, despite all the bustle and affluence.

This is the main drag of my campus, National Taiwan University.


Here is Xindian avenue, which borders one side of the campus. It's kind of like "the Ave" in Seattle's University District, but also, um, different.


And it's Asia, so of course we're talking serious scooters.


I haven't got a picture of it yet, but the coolest thing I've seen is people driving scooters while their dogs ride perched under their legs. How they do it, I'm not yet sure, but when they are stopped at a light, the dogs sometimes jump off and run around a little. It would be awesome if one day they did a dog version of Chinese fire drill.

Aside from gawking at dogs in scooters, I've accomplished a few things. I've found a place to stay temporarily -- my own little room in an area with hardly any other foreigners. I've gotten the hang of the ultra-modern transportation system and started to explore the city during its dry spells. I've met the good friend of my friend Alia, Hsu-Chi, a law professor who has in turn introduced me to some of her students. I spent my second day here with one of them and got to practice practical applications of my Chinese. It turns out it is less useful to be able to discuss the pros and cons of euthanasia than to be able to say "Even Taiwanese people enjoy the film Shrek". I have also been invited to a "dj party" on the weekend of the dragon boat races, for which I am very excited.

Aside from the inedible airplane food, my flight over was very pleasant. We had a layover in Japan and flew by the magnificent Mt. Fuji (click the image to make it bigger).


I was adopted by my seatmate, a woman from Taipei who spoke little English and had been visiting her sister in Los Angeles. She insisted in seeing me off the plane and accompanying me on the bus towards the train station and gave me her phone number and an affectionate squeeze when her stop came. Having traveled a fair amount, I am afraid that it is easy to almost take things like this for granted, but it really is incredible how many very welcoming and generous people there are around the world. Hooray for them!

The only unpleasantness of the last few days has been the school situation. I'm having trouble trying to balance being in the right level of Chinese with the requirements of my fellowship and a number of factors have combined to put quite a lot of pressure on me. But I really WANT to speak Chinese and to speak it well and I haven't got anything better to do, so I'm feeling relatively hopeful.

Now if only it would stop raining and I could fit my giant foreign feet into the desperately cute shoes the ladies here are sporting I would be hen gaoxing.

LEAVING TOWN (AGAIN)

Taipei had better be FREAKIN AWESOME because it is none too easy to leave this beautiful city. I almost always cry a little on the plane coming home but not so much when I am leaving it. It is just such a shock to the system when you've been away to see how gorgeous it is here; craggly snow-capped mountains; the Puget Sound and its perfect scattered jigsaw of islands; the forests (even the scarred ones -- the clearcuts make me cry even more) -- even just the angle of the light and the way it refracts against the gray. Sweet jesus I love this place.

This is what I got to look at over the last week and a half on the ferry that took me to and from Alia's new teahouse on Bainbridge Island



And here is a little iconic Queen Anne action from the roof of Paul and Misty's (sorry guys, I can't resist a good roof -- I promise no one saw me sneak up there, and besides, it was Mark's idea)



last night's sunset



Taiwan, you best start getting pretty now. I know you're an island and all, and that puts you at an advantage, but I've got high expectations and if I don't see some seriously mist-covered hills and ocean-swept cliffs I am going to be pissed.

And my dear hoosier friends, if you are listening, won't you come and visit some day? I would love to show you my city.

THE RABBITS

Everything I know about rabbits I learned from Misty & Paul's wedding website, which states helpfully: "Rabbits are the primary source of labor in Australia. They have large hind feet, keep their babies in pouches, and can box."

Misty and Paul live with two bunnies whose care I have been entrusted with while they honeymoon in Turkey. This is Bess, a black lionhead



and here is Ben, a white lopeared rabbit



they love each other



they also like eating, cuddling, and being destructicons (not pictured)





I'm not so sure whether or not they actually like me, but they do occasionally seem to enjoy my company and my selection and service of pellets and fine vegetables.

Here, Ben is not so much nuzzling, as checking to see if I contain any edible, or at the very least chew-able parts



I thought I might trick them into accepting me as one of them, but Ben seemed rather dubious of my disguise



which is fine, really. I don't even like kale.