Weeks Forty-Six and Forty-Seven
Lots of lasts
Life is winding down in Luodong. Just as I spent the first few weeks setting up my life in Taiwan, I must spend these final few weeks unraveling it in preparation to head home. This will be a long writeup, so bear with me. Or don’t.
Two Fridays ago (6/13), I attended a potluck and graduation celebration at my branch campus. I was slated to perform the Taiwanese ballad “Happy Heaven” with my 6th graders, and had been practicing weekly in the lead up to the event. The performance was tons of fun, and everyone in the audience sang along, making the show a lot less stressful than I was expecting. Each student’s family (~30 students total) brought a few dishes to share, which made for a legendary feast. I brought some ice cream and was swarmed by students as soon as I took it out of the freezer. Most families had brought traditional Taiwanese desserts or pastries, but the 90 degree evening heat made my ice cream vanish in just a few minutes.1
I spent Saturday afternoon cranking out thank-you notes for my Shun-An coworkers. I decided to write them all in Chinese, which presented a serious challenge. I probably could have written them in English, but after experiencing my coworkers’ patience with my poor Chinese for a whole year, the least I could do was thank them in their own language. Writing these cards took me 5 hours, 2 coffees, and countless hand cramps, but I’m glad to have knocked them all out.
In the evening, I headed to Taipei for one final show at Revolver. I met up with Grey, and we watched one of the strangest performances either of us had ever seen. The band was billed as a Taiwanese nu-metal, and when I walked upstairs, the lead singer was wearing a fish mask and running frantically in front of a stunned crowd of 8 people. The songs were all pretty odd, but the band was talented, so we stuck around.2 After the show, the lead singer found us downstairs and personally thanked us for sticking around, giving each of us a few stickers for free.
On Sunday, I decided to check a few final spots off my fast-shrinking Yilan County bucket list. I first headed to the Renshan Botanical Garden, a European-themed garden on top of a small mountain south of town. I was underwhelmed by the gardens, which looked half-assed and poorly maintained.3 It felt good to start the day with a quick hike, though, so it wasn’t a complete waste. I left the gardens and headed east to Wulaokeng, a scenic river valley with a bunch of campsites.4 I passed the main event area and found myself on a sketchy one-lane dirt road, dodging potholes and big 4WD cars on my ancient scooter. Deep in the valley, the road ended in a swimming hole packed with locals. Sweating profusely by this point, I laid down in a calm stretch of river away from the crowds and watched dragonflies flit around me. They’d stop occasionally on river stones and watch the water, either hunting for midges or just enjoying the view.
Early last week, I gave out cards and gifts to coworkers and gave some vintage stamps to my branch campus students. Most coworkers got a pound of local NC pecans and a buffalo nickel, which I figured was about as American of a gift as I could give.5 My students aren’t stamp collectors, and neither am I, but I felt that the stamps were cool mementos. They all had different designs, and students enjoyed picking their favorites. I found one of my students absent-mindedly copying down the Abraham Lincoln quote on his stamp, and I took a moment to explain (as best I could in Chinese) what the words meant. He gave a resounding “哇!” (wa, the Taiwanese equivalent of wow), and told his classmates. This made me smile real big— I suppose this is the cultural ambassador part of my job coming into play.
“Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves.” - Abraham Lincoln.
On Wednesday, I took off after lunch to check out the Fushan Botanical Garden, located just across the county line in New Taipei City. I pushed my scooter hard to get there, knowing that afternoon showers were forecasted around 2pm. I wound through the mountains on a skinny paved road for ages, finally reaching the secluded river valley holding the garden, which was teeming with wildlife. Cicadas were shrieking everywhere, and monkeys and muntjacs kept cautious watch from the edge of the brush as I speed-walked to beat the rain. Bad weather came quickly despite my efforts, and since I was on top of a mountain with only a dinky scooter as a getaway vehicle, I figured I should get going before the weather got worse. I pit stopped at the Fushan Nature Center on my way down, where I met two ladies (both employees) who were super kind and interested about my time in Taiwan. They mentioned that the prior day’s lightning storm was so bad that they had to shut off all the electricity, and were huddled in a back hallway watching lightning strikes curve into the lobby. Hyperbole or not, I took this as my cue to get down the mountain as fast as I could.
On Saturday, I met up with Grey for a final day of mahseer fishing in Nan’ao. I’m incredibly thankful for my proximity to this fishery and to have found a buddy to fish it with. We absolutely slayed it, and I lost track of how many fish we caught. Just after lunch, I was fishing a deep hole near some concrete tetrapods. I threw a nice cast with a small elk-hair caddis, the loop of the cast folding out under an overhang just how I wanted it to. A huge mahseer erupted out of the water and took my fly, but when I lifted my rod to set the hook, I felt a dreadful lack of tension. The fish had chomped my fly clean off. After throwing a brief pity party for myself, I decided to rest the spot, coming back 10 minutes later with a small floating beetle. I covered this hole left to right and front to back, but my fly wasn’t getting any interest. I placed a final cast deep into the hole’s back left corner, and a split second after the fly hit the water, it disappeared in a violent splash. I managed to bring the fish in this time, and it ended up being the largest I’ve caught to date. The fish wriggled away before I could capture a good broadside photo, but the thing was fat, and fought quite hard.
At this point, Grey and I began to encounter loads of tubers, which unsurprisingly made the fishing much worse. We hopped back on the scooter and pushed upriver to the village of Jinyang, which is one of Nan’aos most isolated. Construction and foot traffic downriver had made the water a bit murky, but the water up near Jinyang was crystal clear and tinted a beautiful deep blue. We threw a few more casts before heading back to Luodong for the night, both of us riding the high of an unforgettable day on the river.
I crashed with Grey in Taipei a few weeks back, so I wanted to repay the favor by hosting him in Luodong. What the nightlife in Luodong lacks in crowds it makes up for in warmth and laughs, and I enjoyed showing Grey some of my favorite local spots. After hitting the night market, we headed to the sake bar, where the boss was just as generous as last time. We sampled some delicious sake, tried oolong-infused gin, and enjoyed a clarified bloody mary before heading onwards. After a lengthy discussion of the pitfalls of American tipping culture, we finally convinced the boss to let us leave him a tip. We wrapped up the night with some live music at the local Blues and Jazz Bar, a which is always a guaranteed killer time .
Luodong certainly isn’t the most happenin’ place in Taiwan, but its been the perfect home for the past 11 months. I think I’d have had a much different (and worse) experience if I lived in a big city. I was close enough to nature where I could get outside more or less whenever I want, and the town was small enough where any time I visited a place more than twice, I felt like a regular.6 The big city was just an hour away whenever I needed it, not too close and not too far.
Sometime during the week before, I started noticing some pain and inflammation on my right big toe. It became clear on Sunday that applying neosporin wasn’t going to cut it, and that I should go see a doctor.7 I went to the hospital and showed them what was going on, and a fast-talking doctor took me to an operating room almost immediately. He said some things I understood and other things I didn’t, but the dude was a doctor, so I figured it was okay to nod along and trust the guy.8 He cleaned and numbed the toe before bringing out a scalpel. I was out of the hospital with antibiotics and without 1/3 of a toenail in around an hour, paying only $23 for the whole ordeal. The Taiwanese medical system is ranked as one of the best in the world, and I can see why after this visit.
On Tuesday after class, I headed to a tea farm owned by one of my student’s families. I swung by this place a couple times the week prior, sampling different teas and chatting about tea culture in Taiwan. During those first visits, the boss graciously offered to prepare a batch of roasted oolong tea, and which was finally ready this past Tuesday. After trying a few cups, we scooped the tea straight from the roasting pans into bags, the tea still warm to the touch.9 I purchased 2 bags each of Jinxuan oolong, pomelo flower oolong, and black tea, all grown just a few minutes up the road and dried in-house.10 He was kind enough to throw in a few pieces of teaware to round out my tea set, and refused to let me pay for the 4 bags of roasted oolong I returned for. I was blown away by this generosity, and frankly felt like I should have been the one paying extra after spending so much time drinking tea in his house. When I bring family back to Taiwan, we will certainly be stopping by this place.
The rest of this week has been full of final classes, account closings, and packing. On Wednesday afternoon, my principal presented me with a parting gift from Shun-An: a purple, gold, and green dragon sculpture enclosed in a glass-paneled, 13-inch tall box. I was speechless. Both at the extravagance of the gift and at the thought of trying to get this thing home. This gift was unbelievably cool, however, and I know that the hassle of getting it safely home was worth it.11
Thursday afternoon was a day full of goodbyes. I gave each class a quick spiel about my time in Taiwan and thanked them for making me feel at home at Shun-An. It felt odd giving this goodbye presentation repeatedly, and watching each group students trail out of class made me feel more emotional than I expected. These kids were (and are) deeply curious, silly, friendly, and were the core part of what made this teaching thing worth it. My LET (against my will) put each student on the spot and had them say a sentence to send me off, and as awkward as this was, I appreciated the opportunity to personally thank each student. I’ll likely see some of my coworkers again on future trips to Taiwan, but these goodbyes with students are much more final. I can’t imagine seeing any of them again unless they somehow recognize me at a local night market on a future visit. I hope I’ve made them comfortable enough to not be afraid to say something if that happens.
Over these past 11 months, I’ve experienced countless instances of undeserved generosity. Beyond beautiful gifts and extra tea, everyone around me, from local friends to my coworkers and host family, has taken time to pour into my experience in Taiwan, and has expected nothing in return. I’ve often felt like the value I provide for students, for my coworkers, and for Taiwan doesn’t warrant these gestures. I’ve done my best to support my LETs and make my students comfortable taking risks in the classroom, but at times felt like dead weight. I often found myself watching students crank through endless worksheets and quizzes or watching my LET drown in workbook grading, school policy unable to let her share her workload with me. In some ways I wish I could have done more, wish I could do more, to repay this net of support and generosity I have around me. Taiwan (and Luodong, specifically) is an unbelievably special place, full of an authentic kindness and selflessness towards outsiders that I’ve never experienced elsewhere. This place is my second home, and I’m lucky to have met people here who I will keep in touch with long into the future.
This is certainly not my last time in Taiwan. Hopefully it is just my second trip of many. Though I’m excited to get home and see loved ones, I’ll miss the food, nature, and people here immensely. This has been among the most challenging and rewarding experiences of my life. The series of experiences that led me to teaching in Taiwan began with my parents enrolling me in a dual-language elementary school program nearly 18 years ago. I’m not sure what they thought would come out of it (maybe this was their goal all along?) but I can’t thank them enough for their support.
After I settle in back home in a couple weeks, I’ll send out a final post with some overall reflections if I’m feeling up for it. I’ve got an epic week lined up in Colorado with my whole family and girlfriend (s/o Audrey!) when I get back, and I’ll have much better things to do than navel-gaze about my week. Thank you, reader, for following along throughout this past year. It’s been fun to write these, and I know I’ll enjoy reading back through them for years to come.
Scroll down for some food highlights from the past two weeks. Soundtracks to my weeks have included…
Fiddlin’ Around by Jeff Austin (RIP!)
Chant a Psalm by Steel Pulse
Bob’s Got a Swing Band in Heaven by Red Steagall
I’ve had lots of great food these past few weeks. Knowing that Taiwanese/Chinese food will both be worse and more expensive back home, I’ve been trying to eat something new or different every day. Photos below.
Double sauce cold noodles. Lights-out delicious, the best cold noodles I’ve had in Taiwan. 9.5/10.
Chinese chive shumai. Unique and tasty, but don’t think I would order them again. 7/10.
Sukiya gyudon. My guilty pleasure meal during my first trip to Taiwan. Rice, beef, cheese, and a runny egg. Points subtracted because I felt gross after eating this. 7.5/10.
Thai shrimp paste noodles. Tasted fine, but the sauce didn’t coat the noodles well enough. It was difficult to get a bite with both noodle and shrimp paste. 6.5/10.
Beef and scallion shaobing. Baked fresh in a charcoal oven right in front of my eyes. Crispy and flaky outside, juicy and flavorful filling on the inside. Phenomenal, 9.5/10.
“Shark fin” dumplings. No, these don’t actually contain shark fin, it’s just in reference to the shape. Filled with pork, corn, and veggies, pricy but worth it. 8.5/10.
Curry rice with added cheese, half spicy red curry, half black sweet curry. Very good, but I prefer the curry rice from another local spot a bit more. 8/10.
Scallion oil chicken over rice. Simple, filling, and cheap. This shop is right near my apartment and I waited way too long to try it. I usually get a big spoon and wolf down the whole bowl in under 2 minutes. 9/10.
Taiwanese char siu bento. Was able to choose 4 sides (I chose cabbage, bitter greens, tomato and egg, and spicy tofu) to go along with the meat and rice. Only $2.70 USD, filling and healthy-ish. 8.5/10.
2 or 3 families brought aiyu jelly or douhua (tofu pudding), both of which are (in my American opinion) nowhere near as good as ice cream. My students seemed to agree.
Songs were about hydration, working as a food delivery driver, and enjoying the taste of fish.
Maybe I am just being a snob, but the greenery looked parched and sparse, and the lack of flowers was odd. I only took one photo while I was there, and began walking down the mountain after only 10 minutes at the garden.
The main area of Wulaokeng hosted the Yilan Green Expo a few months back. The main area is super developed and boring. In Taiwan, most people’s idea of a “nature getaway” is generally far less rugged/natural than in the US.
Pecan recipients also got a recipe for candied pecans.
Almost certainly due to my skin color… there are not a lot of foreigners around here.
It was probably pretty stupid to spend all of Saturday scrambling around a river in Chacos with an infected toenail, but I know I would have massively regretted not getting a final trip in before leaving.
I’ve become concerningly good at appearing like I know what someone is talking about in Chinese. If something actually important comes up, I’ll stop and translate, but flying 50% blind has worked out pretty well for me thus far.
Each of these roasted oolong bags was packed to nearly 1.5x the usual 100g capacity. I would guess that this is closer to 6 bags worth.
Jinxuan is an oolong varietal that is floral and “milky,” although I’m not sure what that means. The pomelo flower oolong is dried with pomelo flowers layered in for an extra floral flavor, and the black tea is loose leaf, rich, and dark. The roast oolong is slightly stronger and has a more complex and bitter flavor than the others. All can be cold brewed, too.
I spent the rest of the afternoon searching Luodong for a box (found at a grocery store) and bubble wrap (found at a furniture store) and filling out the customs paperwork for shipping it home.
Can’t wait to see you!!!!
Great wrap up! See you soon!