Costco Comes to Tainan

Ok so I realize my life might actually be more of a prosaic bore after all if I'm getting all animated over shopping at Costco, so please just indulge me. After at least 3 years of rumors, since I've been here, Costco finally opened last week here in Tainan. Its right across the street from B&Q (like a Home Depot) and its an utter madhouse. My friend Erica drove us and we used her card.  We joked that it would be like Shilin Night Market in Taipei and it nearly was.The lines to get in reminded me of the Taipei  International Flower Expo. We drove around, bumper to bumper just to get into the underground parking lot (B3). No more driving down to Kaohsiung for Costco runs!



the entrance line

Of course I spent way too much, but the goods will last me a while: a block of sharp Cheddar, mozzarella cheese sticks, fishies, canned wild salmon, organic salsa, RoC night cream (hooray for Retinal!  Its illegal for Taiwanese dermatologists to sell Retinal because of potential Vitamin A overdosing), organic tortillas, a massive container of grated Parmesan and Bob's Redmill multigrain muesli (he really is the highest quality grains goods out there), and frozen blue berries. What I didn't find but looked for: organic peanut butter. Sure they had massive jars of Jiffy, but I'm a purist when it comes to nut butters, no sweeteners (corn syrups probably) or carcinogenic hydrogenated oils, thanks anyway.

Checkout and food court

After the checkout I waited in line for 15 minutes for some massive hot dogs and then called it a night. It was perfect for stalking up on not necessarily needs, but wants. Perfect for stalking up for the following day's typhoon. Next paycheck I will buy maple syrup (pure of course), feta cheese, organic peanut butter, coffee, corn chips, and see if they have some pita bread. Hmmm cant wait!

Astonishing Alishan

Alishan is one of Taiwan's must see attractions after Taroko Gorge and Kenting and I finally made
it. Its a mystical mountain, cloud and tea country and home to the indigenous Rueli tribe. Now its pretty touristy and there was an eye sore of a car park full of mainland Chinese tourists and their smog making mega buses. I am already aware of the reputation of mainlanders, from the personal accounts of local Taiwanese and the confessions of traveler's tales. What was interesting is the Taiwanese steering me away from buying oolong tea that was sold only to mainlanders (cheaper quality). When we dined in Fenchihu, my friends also checked a few restaurants and told me we couldn't eat there because they cater to Chinese tourists.Quality for the locals, nice to be on the receiving end. (For all the pics click here.)I finally made it to Alishan. Ive been meaning to go since Z and I first came to Tainan, especially since she was into Thomas the Tank and wanted to do the old steam train from Chiayi, but that was destroyed by the floods of Morokat (major Typhoon a few years ago.) My friends took us, Allen and his family, Vicky and hers. Allen's wife has a friend whose sister and husband have a home stay outside of LongMei off of road 129. We left Tainan Sat morning, had lunch in Chiayi sampling some of its famous Turkey rice (huo jirou fan) before heading up the winding mountain roads. I braved the black jelly egg (skin egg).

We quickly checked in and were welcomed, getting to know one other over several pots of oolong, and oversampling some local varieties. Their home stay was in a modern, all glass building, with 3 large bedrooms, 2 with double queens and the other a family room with 2 large doubles, all with their own bathrooms TV, wifi. The place is called "53.1" and surmounts  a mountainous valley, complete with a hiking trail through misty tea farms. They have a little cafe in the back that serves the included breakfast (you will be satiated) and a shop in town that sells tea, hand made glycerin soaps, etc.(For their website click here.)

My room was great, actually it was Vicky's but she kindly traded with me since my glass walls commanded the glorious views. Our rooms were 2800 NT per night including breakfast which was hearty and dinner.Two of my walls were all glass and overlooking this grand mountain view that dropped along side the hiking trail. The trail cut through terraces of lush tea and white powdery bamboo full of butterflies. Z and I climbed it the next morning after breakfast while all the others went back to sleep after watching the sunrise.


 It started to rain as we left out homestay and we assumed it would clear.  We bought rain jackets at 7-11 an I had a much needed coffee and we waited for 30 minutes or so and decided to go for it.  It really was coming down hard and the kids were whining to go back and Allen thought we were crazy  to try (maybe we were). We checked out some local eateries. The kids  had bamboo soup and we adults had strong ginger tea. The rain was hard and the kids didn't want to hike so Allen and his wife took them back to our homestay and the rest of us, Vicky and her husband and Allen's mother in law decided to brave the downpour and walked around the park.

Our feet were soaked, but the scenery inside the ancient forests was stunning. The trails were empty but for this young couple we happened upon and we made new friends. Isabella is a finance attorney in Taipei and her ex boyfriend is a lower district judge in Kaohsiung. When we first entered the ancient Cypress forest I was of course amazed when I saw the first few 800 year old Cypress trees. Then we walked along and there were 900 year old specimens, 1000, 1600 and when we started to be in the presence of 2000 year old trees I was awe struck like in the presence of something sacred. I thought about the Rocky mountains that are always growing and they are  millions of years old,  but was is it about trees? Then I thought about a road trip I took when I was 18 to B.C and our chance and private encounter with the Redwoods somewhere on the CA/OR border, all misty and majestic. The darkness of the forest, like in Germany or England the feeling of timelessness, it was dark like that under that tall foliage, the sound of water and birds then the rain stopped. I took off my raincoat for the rest of the day still using my umbrella as the trees were dripping from the recent downpour. I liked how seedlings would land on an ancient stump and revive the stump, make a new and more interesting life. There were 4 seedlings that landed on the same stump and thrived. Some Taiwanese person named them The 4 Sisters and it stuck. There were some funny signs, how this Cypress resembled an elephant head or a dragon and phoenix but there was one tree that had 3 generations all growing from the original stump which was interesting.

In the middle of our excursion we reached a temple next to a small market catering to tourists selling locally grown wasabi and aboriginal wild boar jerky, so Vicky bought 6 bags of the jerky for gifts and gave one to me. We went into the temple and Vicky's husband explained that on that particular god's birthday (the 3rd day of the 3rd lunar month) all the forests moths of this particular species come pay him a visit and land all over his idol. There was  a poster showing his beard and costume all covered in moths, kind of weird and creepy and Id like to see it.

When we emerged from the thickness of the forests, we were greeted by a smiling rainbow. I expected it to disappear quickly but it stayed around the remainder of the day to look over our shoulders and watch the sunset w/us. When the sun was setting over the clouds and mt tops obscured by firmament, the rainbow only deepened her hue.Near the parking lot we climbed to a viewing area for the sunset which of course was just as stunning as our day had been. There wasn't this clean sea of clouds like a blanket that covered the earth, like you see on pictures everywhere in every shop and restaurant, but the clouds were curling and moving, with wisps like hair and changing color like a blushing girl or a garden, coral, lilac, rose. Overlooking everything was the aboriginal holy mountain which I instinctively knew was sacred as I couldn't keep my eyes off of it.

We returned in the rain, famished, my feet blistered from walking in soaked sockless shoes and were greeted by a big pot of noodle fishball soap, dragon fruit for dessert followed by hours of endless Oolong. Our host was a self confessed expert (as is every Taiwanese' friend I have haha), but he really did know hi s stuff and his English was excellent.  Im so well educated in tea from my friends, thanks for teaching me to taste if the tea was picked in spring or winter, from the high Nantou peaks to lower tropical Taidong. (High is best). Drinking a pot of oolong is like having a body high, alert yet calm, like smoking a spliff w/o the paranoia or coughing. The sweetness, after a few good cups my whole palate is sweetened, refreshed.

I had our host swear to wake us for the sunrise. He said 5:15. My body is always on farmer time so I woke at 4:45, made myself some instant Alishan coffee and when I saw day breaking at 5,woke up Vicky. We were ready by 5:15 and walked 5 min up the road to a grand pavilion, empty but for us and our hosts 3 dogs. I had to carry Z on my back, she was tired. We waited til 6 am and the clouds all but obscured it. It wasn't the photo perfect blanket of clouds and this golden orb but it was still mystical and magical and I love early mornings. We returned and everyone but me Z and Jeremy (Vicky's son) stayed awake and ate. I was pretty beat but Z and I hiked the top of the mt behind our guesthouse. Of course at the top was all white clouds. On the walk down I power napped at a few rest stops. We checked out and took lunch at one of the better rail stations, Fenchihu, with its old street, reminded me of Anping or Makong. The kids had fun climbing all over the old steam engines parked in the garage. We ate at an old wooden restaurant that served Japanese style worker lunches from times gone by. Walking along the shops and sampling some of the snacks we were tired and returned home Vicky's husband driving like a speed racer and us asleep in the back a lovely weekend with friends what can be better?

Ghost Month Monologue

The veil between the dead and living has been temporarily lifted for a month, so locals believe. The 7th lunar month is Ghost Month when the hungry ghosts come to haunt the undead. There are many superstitious rules to follow and I only remember two: don’t swim or hang your clothes outside to dry for fear of being possessed. Did I mention possession is a real, normal phenomena here, like catching the flu. I have one Taiwanese friend who takes her only son to the temple to be routinely exorcised. He comes home with a big red stamp of approval on his forehead.

My friend told me it all started during the Ming dynasty, a royal astrologer to the Emperor told him that the 7th lunar month was very auspicious, so the Emperor being the caring leader wanted to horde all the good luck for himself and had his people told the converse. Superstition and ghost stories grew throughout the years. It can’t all be bad luck, as the Chinese Valentine’s Day is also this lunar month (a very nice little folktale I wrote a poem about "On this night of 7's" ). I’ve also heard stories that Ghost Month originated in India with Buddhism, that during the 7th lunar month, Buddha’s disciples attained enlightenment more during this month than the others and that one follower in particular was told that his mom was unable to pass onto the next world unless he appeased her ghost. Apparently she was starving, her belly was insatiable and her throat too thin. Who knew? Whatever the origins my neighborhood has been full of more people burning ghost money outside their buildings than usual, paying off their ancestors to find peace.

Last weekend during the full moon was the climax. All the temples were active. Every building had a table full of offerings and the ghost money burnt so fiercely, the air was hazy, my eyes stung and my throat was irritated. My apartment building had several tables outside the front door covered with bowls and large trays full of snacks, fruit, ghost money and the neighbors’ apartment number. The temples put on shows for the gods. I’ve seen puppet shows, burlesque teases, Chinese opera all with full blast sound systems (because the ghosts are hard of hearing). Its seriously loud, loud enough where even me (I think I may be slightly deaf no joke) have to stand away from the stage to take pictures.

Do you take me for a cynic? Truly I believe in ghosts, I saw them with my own eyes twice and have had more experience than I can count with spirits (mostly in night terrors, out of body experiences) so have my folks. The first ghost I saw I was a kid and I saw it with two of my brothers. It was late, my folks had company over it was around 10pm we were outside on the driveway, a summer night when a little ghost like Casper, no bigger than 3 feet ran past us, luminous, flying as he ran. As he flew past it left imprints with a face each more terrorizing than the previous. We all screamed and my youngest bro John ran in the house and told my folks- who didn’t take us seriously. The second time I saw a ghost I was 20 years old in Catalonia, a seaside village north of Barcelona. I was an au-pair and my then family was staying at their summer home, the grandfather’s home. The baby had a nightmare and for some reason neither me nor the mom heard him crying (it was our job to be there when he woke as the Dad was too macho for that.) Anyway as I walked in I saw the Dad (not happy to be the one comforting his son on a Sat morning) asking me why I didn’t hear Pedrito crying. Standing behind them was a man, life-sized, tall, dressed, luminous, who commanded me in Spanish to enter “Venga!” I was so shocked I really didn’t even pay attention to the annoyance of Pedrito’s father. After 30 seconds or so the ghost faded. Maybe it was the grandfather? Maybe Pedrito saw the ghost and got scared or he had a nightmare and the ghost came to comfort him?

I have met many travelers throughout the years with their own ghost close encounters and I always thought it would make a great travel book. I collected the most stories in Egypt and Sudan, some local folklore, others first-hand encounters and also some  ofmy own personal experiences I shared with a group of volunteers outside Khartoum. I believe in ghosts, spirits, demons, angels. Am I afraid of them? Not after Sudan. I have my recent stories of Z and I and spirits in Taiwan. Ghosts are abundant here, like mosquitos, maybe because people believe in them so much.