Taiwan culture: Shouldn't need to be said...

Many things in our relationship with our family shouldn't need to be said. Taiwanese it seemed didn't have the same rules.

A friend was discussing with his twenty-eight year old girlfriend about life as a child. He said his parents would give him a hard smack if he was too naughty. He then asked her to the effect of what about you, would your parents hit you?

"Sure," she replied.

"It is really bad," he replied. "I would never hit my children."

Immediately she started to get stressed. The foreigner had kind of indirectly criticised her parents and that was unacceptable - She was Taiwanese and she didn't blame her parents for everything. She tried to put a positive spin on things, defend her parents. "Not anymore," she replied. "They don't hit me anymore."

Expat Culture in Taiwan: How to be authentic

Most foreigners weren't in Taipei working for big banks in expat jobs, they had gone to Taiwan to: find themselves, or have a year or so out of the rat race - or pursue interests; in other words they were suffering from very high levels of needing to be authentic to themselves.

And, if you wanted to be authentic to yourself you had to get out of teaching whether you liked it or not: teaching was our immigrant job and 99% of people were English teachers.

We shouldn't be complaining too much: Chinese immigrants died building railways in the States, Filipinas have to clean floors and our old people; in the history of immigrant jobs English teacher has to about the cushiest number ever - but then again we weren't poor people trying to pay for a starving family but self-important, young middle-class westerners with degrees.

Unfortunately, because 99% of work for foreigners was teaching or editing the English language it was difficult to be authentic to yourself. Inevitably like the waitress in LA who was an actress, years later you would be telling people about your plan to get out of teaching.

The number one way to be authentic to yourself was to open a bar or restaurant. We foreigners went to all the western restaurants opened by the local Taiwanese and complained and criticised about something that wasn’t perfect – but wasn’t actually bad – they could, of course, do better. The number of foreigners who could open a better bar, restaurant or night club than the locals, stood as a higher percentage than the number of English men after eight pints who could do a better job than the England football manager.

Opening a restaurant wasn’t quite as cool as bar, but it was pretty much the next best thing you could do considering the independent, be your own boss lifestyle consciousness that dominated here. Opening a restaurant didn’t seem to hold the stereotypical position that opening a Chinese or Indian restaurant did for immigrants in England: the market was still new, and not so many foreigners had done it because we were outsiders, needing to get Taiwanese business partners and negotiate our way around government legislation and licenses; it involved a lot of hard work and risk.

The position of number one stereotype was given to opening a language school; everyone sniggered at these people – while they themselves were inevitably teaching English but telling themselves they were looking for something else. For example, after five years in Taipei when John had opened a school making lots of money, people would still ask him when he was going to start doing something he wanted. He would occasionally explode: "What the f...? I am not some stupid middle-class boy who criticizes the Taiwanese for having face problems all day but then has bigger ones of his own. Don't you understand the basics of life? - The pride of earning a wage to pay for a family and a nice sofa. To not being a loser having to drink beer from the 7/11 every night?"

John's comment had some truth. Inevitably if you wanted to show you weren't a real teacher you had to do several things that resulted in you not saving or having a lot of money:

1) Don't work too many hours a week.
2) Don't get promoted and actually improve as a teacher.
3) Don't stay at the same school for too long.
4) Have long breaks away in Thailand or somewhere that show how free spirited you are.
5) Don't get a work permit but fly to Hong Kong every two months to get a tourist visa and work illegally.
6) Spend lots of money on Chinese classes.
7) Apply, pay the fees, but never finish an online qualification from a university back home.
8) Sign up at a kung fu school and become quite good.
9) Try your hand at journalism and editing work which was still being employed for your English but paid extremely poorly compared to teaching.
10) Turn down all those opportunities to invest in or open a language school.
11) Tell yourself you want to keep your options open; you might be leaving soon, while secretly knowing you will never leave.

Of all the foreigners in our little group Pierre suffered worst from this.

Taiwan characters: Pierre and the immigration business I

Pierre's next attempt at not being pigeon-holed as a teacher was an immigration business. And, like all his other attempts at a business, it hadn't fallen very far from the teaching tree.
“I ‘ave set up an immigration agency to advise on emigrating to or studying in France,” announced Pierre.
“What the fuck do you know about emigrating to France?” said John. Since he saved Pierre's life he felt the right to point out the obvious at every turn.
Josh still hadn't learnt to stop considering Pierre's plans. “Not a bad idea, man, but I think this is already a competitive market with sophisticated structures in place. You need to generate a lot of contacts in France. Meet some lawyers there. It is going to take a while and a lot of money to establish a credible brand name...But an interesting challenge, I think.”
‘Anyway!’ said Pierre dismissing Josh's help with an expression that said why do you have to couch business in such bullshit ways when it was simple. “I have already figured it all out. I already have a friend of mine going to all the other agencies, pretending to be interested in immigrating. Once I know the procedures and costs I under cut them. I cannot afford advertising, but I have my contacts at the French school and I will keep it small. Let the word of mouth of what I am doing spread. You know I don’t mind talking to people…You know what the real fuckin’ clincher is: I am really sending them to England, but going via France because it is easier to get in.”
“Sounds a bit like a foreigner job to me,” spat out John. After teacher it was a few small steps to agency for sending students to your country, and then helping Taiwanese emigrate. You weren’t even stretching the sides of the cultural straight jacket.
“Not at all," said Pierre. "Most companies in this industry are Taiwanese and I am not telling people I can do this, or you should work with because I am a foreigner. I go to them and say, “me being a foreigner offers you nothing, but I am offering you a better deal as a person. It is better for you to work with me.”
We all felt very sick for 10 minutes or so.

Taiwan history: Do we belong to China?

Eric in his defense made attempts to know more about the history and culture of Taiwan than the locals. Hence his anger when they treated him like a dumb foreigner.
He was a big independence supporter and he spent all his time trying to convince us of the logic of Taiwan not belonging to China. Even when you were just relaxing in the bar.
“Man, I bought this book last week," said Eric and we all groaned knowing what was coming.
"You know it is bullshit that Taiwan has always been a part of China."
"You have told us that before," I said.
"I know," he replied. "But i didn't have the historical evidence to back me up before. Listen please."
"Do we have a choice?"
"Not really, man. Hey, you know, up until the 1600’s the island was populated by people of Malay and Polynesian descent, the aboriginals, then the Dutch took the island briefly, but were driven out by a small Ming dynasty army, which had fled the mainland because the Ming had been defeated by the Ching – much like Chiang Kai-Shek and the commies. The Ching came then to defeat the Ming, but did not occupy or annex Taiwan, because they were not really interested in the island, just getting rid of the remnants of the Ming. Over the next 200 years, Chinese from Fukkien province emigrated to Taiwan because of starvation. They weren’t sent by the Chinese government but had come seeking opportunities much like the Europeans going to the new world. And they inter-bred with the aboriginals.
In 1887 the China government formally declared Taiwan part of its territory for no other reason than they expected Japan to annex it, and they wanted to stop Japanese expansion. Eight years later they lost the Sino-Japanese war and signed Taiwan over to the Japanese forever. Up until then the Taiwanese had been living in a state of de-facto independence for 200 hundred years and, when they knew they were going to be given to the Japanese, they declared the Republic of Taiwan; so, for a long time they have had a sense of national identity.”
Josh: “And where did you get this information from? I don’t think from KMT or Chinese Communist Party sources.”
“Of course! You have to search hard for the suppressed truth,” said Eric.
“But they were whipped by the Japanese? – When they tried to declare independence,” said John.
“Brutally and swiftly! Yes, of course, but that is not the point. Taiwan was only ever a part of China for 8 years is the point. Josh, you are an immigrant, too. Your ancestors moved to a new land to give themselves a chance.”
“Didn’t the Taiwanese butcher the native population? I have no sympathy until they redress this injustice,” said Josh.
“Native populations get wiped out. Look at our own countries. Anyway, the government is trying to do something.”
“And I don’t live in Canada in protest. Next time tell us about what the government is doing for the aboriginals then we might listen to your claims of Taiwanese moral superiority,” continued Josh.
John and Pierre were realists but they nodded anyway because they knew it made Eric angry!

Expat Culture in Taiwan: Even the dogs are smarter

Taiwanese don't drive well. It has got better over the years, but they are still guilty of not stopping at crossing etc. But that is just the way it is, put up with it or leave. Like all things in life weigh up the pros and cons and make a positive decision. Most westerners did but there were a few people who just procrastinated in negativity. Eric was one. Even the dogs were smarter than Eric.
“Look, man even the friggin’ dogs have got more sense than you!” I shouted at Eric, as we crossed the road. On our inside for its own protection was one of thousands of stray dogs that wandered the city. It was a strange thing to get used to seeing, like some sort of super breed of street smart dog, these dogs had learned to use the pedestrian crossing and wait at the lights. In this case, the dog had spotted the car turning right selfishly and illegally cutting across the green man, and had stopped to let it go. Eric of course did not – one arm up, palm out, the other pointing to the green man, Moses-like – and also requiring divine intervention to succeed - he strode against the cars pouring across the crossing. The more mannered or aware would stop at his out stretched hand, but the rest would slam on their brakes and angrily spin the wheel of their car and attack another point in the crowd of pedestrians crossing the street. Anywhere else was fine because almost all the Taiwanese stopped and gave way to the cars. They knew how dangerous, reckless and selfish their fellow man was behind the wheel and they were not interested in arguing. Eric, armed only with his sense of right and wrong, felt that he was scoring little victories, but it was only a matter of time he stopped a group of young guys and then a hospital trip would be necessary.
I pulled him back determined it wasn't going to be when i was there.

Taiwan lifestyle: Going to the Filipino disco to get an Indonesian

Sundays in Taiwan were usually a haze of hung over self-reflection and rest, starting at two or three in the afternoon – The disco in Taipei ended at eight in the morning meaning you were either there until the end desperately trying to pick up or you had done…Either way, you were getting up late – but this week was different. John had stayed in on the saturday night desperately trying to arrange a romantic date to offset the loneliness from knowing he had been in Taiwan three years.
The date had back fired and now he was insisting we had to go with him to the Filipino disco on the Sunday afternoon.
“Come on, we are taking you to the Filipino disco to get an Indonesian,” said John.
If you hadn’t been successful on the Friday or Saturday, then there was still a chance on a Sunday. John had first discovered the Sunday afternoon Filipino disco concept by accident in Hong Kong a few years ago - After going to Neptunes in Wanchai at the normal time and taking a girl to a hotel, he had been racked by guilt and agreed to her request to meet her back at the same disco at three p.m. the following afternoon. The request to meet her inside bothered him, but he dismissed it as assuming she meant outside - both were unfamiliar to Hong Kong and language was a problem so why not choose a place they knew, he rationalized. It took a while to convince himself, but after standing outside for 20 minutes he accepted that the place was open, perhaps as a restaurant during the day – and besides it was hot on the street and he was getting a lot of strange stares so he decided to go down for ten minutes. It was not pleasant inside...
The Chinese girls like us in Taiwan, so he hadn't thought about whether the equivalent existed here. Then about a couple of months ago Matt (the whore accountant) had knocked on his door to inform him he had found a ‘great disco’ and ‘would he like to see what he had met there?’ “Amy, turn around once, please. Man, it like being with a whore again,” had said a proud Matt, a tear in his eye.
The disco was in the old part of town near the combat zone. We checked nobody we knew was around and then bolted down the stairs, before finding a table.
“It is a little lowlife,” said Eric for all of us. Our sensibilities were being assaulted by the sight of so many dark-skinned middle-aged women happily dancing away to Filipino techno music; women who you only normally saw in the street or in the park pushing 90 year-old pyjama-wearing Taiwanese people with drips and oxygen masks around in wheel chairs; worried faces for very good reason that their charge might croak at any minute and they would be blamed.
Just to clarify, said Eric. “On our part, that is! We are the lowlife.”
John spoke, “Boys, this is easy compared to Hong Kong. First time I went down those stairs out of the light and saw a packed disco of big fat old lairily grinning white foreigners in rugby shirts, dancing badly with the girls who were still there from the night before because they hadn’t scored yet, I had to summon all my reserves of scuzziness to hang around. Here there are not many foreigners - besides Matt of course. Give yourself a couple of minutes to get over the acute embarrassment and self-loathing at your own sadness and you should be able to get yourself something good.”
“Why is it the Filipino disco? Surely it should be the Indonesian disco,” asked Eric, hoping he could get a serious discussion topic going, and thus ignore where he was.
“Filipinos are the pioneers of the Sunday afternoon disco…” John started to explain.
His point was two-fold: all maids used to Filipino before, and, Filipinos are the blacks of Asia known for their laid back, outgoing nature and love of music and dance (a brief look at the traditional culture of surrounding countries and it is easy to see why) Because of this Filipinos have cornered the ‘Live Band’ market – in Shanghai, Hong Kong, all over Japan and in Taiwan pubs proudly display signs for ‘Filipino Live Band’, because it will bring in the punters like a picture of a blonde white guy outside your English school. Now, popular culture means everyone can sing and dance and the majority of maids are Indonesian because they are supposed to be more conservative, but “…still any shifting of the feet on the Lord’s day of rest in Asia will be affectionately referred to by its flipper heritage. Now, go and get something.”
Matt had just arrived with exactly what you would expect him to on his arm. “I have been with her for a while now. I like her,” mused Matt. That could have been the end, a sufficient reason for his going out with her, but once what he had considered what he had said his expression changed to I’m sorry, that is not a very good explanation and he felt compelled to continue, “She is low maintenance – only has Sunday off – she’ll clean my apartment and bring me food. If I come here with her, she’ll only want one drink…Oh, and I have to buy her a phone card once every two weeks. That is acceptable for a girlfriend I think?” He was genuinely concerned to get confirmation on the last part.
“So I am bored, give me today’s history lesson. I can see you have something to say, and I doubt it is a good joke you heard,” said John to Eric. He wasn’t going to go to the dance floor, because he knew we would disappear home at the first chance of seeing him not looking or busy. Eric always tried desperately to educate us all about Taiwan’s history.
“Man, I bought this book last week…You know it is bullshit that Taiwan has always been a part of China. A brief history goes like this. Up until the 1600’s the island was populated by people of Malay and Polynesian descent, the aboriginals, then the Dutch took the island briefly, but were driven out by a small Ming dynasty army, which had fled the mainland because the Ming had been defeated by the Ching – much like Chiang Kai-Shek and the commies. The Ching came then to defeat the Ming, but did not occupy or annex Taiwan, because they were not really interested in the island, just getting rid of the remnants of the Ming. Over the next 200 years, Chinese from Fukkien province emigrated to Taiwan because of starvation. They weren’t sent by the Chinese government but had come seeking opportunities much like the Europeans going to the new world. And they inter bred with the aboriginals.
In 1887 the China government formally declared Taiwan part of its territory for no other reason than they expected Japan to annex it, and they wanted to stop Japanese expansion. Eight years later they lost the Sino-Japanese war and signed Taiwan over to the Japanese forever. Up until then the Taiwanese had been living in a state of de-facto independence for 200 hundred years and, when they knew they were going to be given to the Japanese, they declared the Republic of Taiwan; so, for a long time they have had a sense of national identity.”
Josh: “And where did you get this information from? I don’t think from KMT or Chinese Communist Party sources.”
“Of course! You have to search hard for the suppressed truth.” Perversely, Eric’s support for Taiwanese independence was as strong as his hatred of people who like to practice their English.
“But they were whipped by the Japanese? – When they tried to declare independence.” John only liked to deal in hard cynical facts.
“Brutally and swiftly! Yes, of course, but that is not the point, anyway…Taiwan was only ever a part of China for 8 years is the point. Josh, you are an immigrant, too. Your ancestors moved to a new land to give themselves a chance.”
“Didn’t the Taiwanese butcher the native population? I have no sympathy until they redress this injustice,” said Josh.
“Native populations get wiped out. Look at our own countries. Anyway, the government is trying to do something.”
“And I don’t live in Canada in protest. Next time tell us about what the government is doing for the aboriginals then we might listen to your claims of Taiwanese moral superiority.” John and Pierre were realists but they nodded anyway because they knew it made Eric angry!
I was feeling uneasy for another reason. There had been a sizeable earthquake a few week ago and the paranoia hadn't settled down yet. “I feel uncomfortable here – if the big one comes my soul ain’t gonna rest easy knowing my crushed body was dragged from the rubble of the Sunday Afternoon Flipper Disco,” I sighed. "I mean, presumably, getting dragged broken and bleeding from the night-time disco next to a girl in a mini wouldn't be fantastic, but at least i would be going out next to something young and hot. This...Hmm...Ah...This is just a little above being found in the ruins of a whorehouse.
“I ‘ave set up an immigration agency to advise on emigrating to, or studying in France. I know it will succeed! As a side business!” announced Pierre, with another business idea and not wanting to be left out.
“What the fuck do you know about emigrating to France?” John pointing out the obvious.
“Not a bad idea, man, but I think this is already a competitive market with sophisticated structures in place. You need to generate a lot of contacts in France. Meet some lawyers there. It is going to take a while and a lot of money to establish a credible brand name, but an interesting challenge.” John and Eric frowned having no idea why Josh bothered to consider Pierre's ideas.
‘Anyway!’ dismissed Pierre his expression asking John and Eric why Josh had to couch business in such bullshit ways when it was simple. “I have already figured it all out. I already have a friend of mine going to all the other agencies, pretending to be interested in immigrating. Once I know the procedures and costs I under cut them. I cannot afford advertising, but I have my contacts at the French school and I will keep it small. Let the word of mouth of what I am doing spread. You know I don’t mind talking to people…You know what the real fuckin’ clincher is – I am really sending them to England, but going via France because it is easier to get in.” Of course, nobody else had actually thought of this.
“Sounds a bit like a foreigner job to me,” spat out John who was in a bad mood. "After teacher it is a few small steps to agency for sending students to your country, and then helping Taiwanese emigrate. You aren't even stretching the sides of the cultural straight jacket."
“Not at all. Most companies in this industry are Taiwanese and I am not telling people I can do this, or you should work with because I am a foreigner. I go to them and say, “me being a foreigner offers you nothing, but I am offering you a better deal as a person. It is better for you to work with me.” Nauseated we all turned around to try and take our attention off, what Pierre said.
“You want to sit here?” said the pretty Filipino at the next table to John. There were still a few left in the Filipino disco.
“You are not with those guys?” he asked because they were large Africans.
“No, they are bastards. I hate Indians and Africans, coming here trying to pick us up. What do they think they are?" she said. "Hey. It is unusual to see white guys here. I bet you have a Taiwan girlfriend, don’t you? Why you like the Taiwan girl?”
Coming here hadn’t worked out how she had expected – her cousin had got married to an Australian she met in Hong Kong and she had expected something similar; she had been told Chinese girls didn’t like white men, but this was Taipei not Hong Kong. Everyday she did a shit, menial job for Taiwanese and then at the weekend, she had her 2^nd class status shoved in her face again, having to spend it getting hit on by huge Africans in white suits and sneakers who could dance or middle-aged married Indian businessmen who couldn’t. And, the worse of it all was she was a passionate colorful Filipino, so how could the westerners prefer dull Chinese girls?
"Don't worry, we invented most of the world's sports but we are crap at them now," said John.
"What?" she replied. Then going back to her original subject. “I always want to go Hong Kong.”
“There at least you could have been taken the piss out of and used by guys worth being exploited by eh?”
“What?”
“Nothing…Anyway, would you like to go to a hotel?”

Taiwan dating: Top 10 list of things to say and do to charm a Taiwanese girl

John’s list of Top Ten Ways to be Romantic, Charm the Pants off a Taiwanese Girl and Get Her in the Mood:
1. Get here to take you to where she lived when she was young.
2. Get her to show you all her old schools.
3. Tell her repeatedly you bet she is a good daughter/friend/mother.
4. Ask to see any awards she received as a student.
5. Tell her you are sure she works extremely hard in school/for her company.
6. Ask her to show you where her company is.
7. Tell her she will make it to America to study one day – and she will thrive there.
8. Ask to see pictures of her family. When she says she isn’t carrying any, insist she brings some next time.
9. Show her pictures of yours, especially anything of child age that will get her broody.
10. Take them for coffee or to a bookshop, even better coffee in a bookshop.
Finally with her swooning and dreamy from having her Taiwanese buttons pressed, he would say: “You know you don’t really behave like a Taiwanese person” and she would get excited and ask “Why not?” and he would reply, “The things you like to do, I suppose. An attitude. You are more open and unpredictable. I don’t know.”
“John knew it was different, but he was used to it now. He didn’t mind being the teacher; it was kind of old-fashioned and sweet, igniting those me man, you woman instincts which were not exactly buried very deep anyway. And, most importantly, it kept his alcohol consumption down.
He stopped his scooter by the side of the road to pick up Phoebe. "So what would you like to do?"
"Hmm, no plan."
"Ok. Maybe, you can show me where you lived when you were young?"
Really...But it is in Taipei County. Quite far,” answered Phoebe.
"I am fine," said John.
She put on the helmet and got on the back of his scooter. “Maybe, we can also pass by my old elementary school. It is on the way.”
“I would love to. Let’s get going, it should be a long day…”

Taiwanese and speaking English VI

The street was filled with Taiwanese doing market research surveys, but they never wanted our foreign opinion...Until once, it seemed outside of Blockbusters my opinion mattered.
It was a painful experience as I spoke Chinese to the girls and they answered me in English. Then when she couldn't speak English she pushed the survey paper in my face, only to realize that i couldn't read that either, even though i protested to her that i probably could.
Finally, twenty minutes later, we finished the survey.
“How long have you been here?” said one of them.
“Five years!”
"Why do you stay so long?" they asked.
"I love Taiwan. I will live here forever."
“Why did you learn Chinese?”
“A misunderstanding! - I was under the impression we were in a Chinese speaking country.”
They all laughed heartily.
It was a great country, but...

Expat Culture in Taiwan: My first Christmas

In the old days there was actually a day off for Christmas day, not because it was Christmas, but it was officially constitution day. Around 2000 they dropped constitution day and since then we haven’t even had a day off – unless you booked it of course. I had only been in Taiwan six months or so, and being a young university graduate was reveling in the idea I was simply not going to have a Christmas; that is was going to be hot. I had gone to a card shop and bought a bunch of Christmas cards with Santa sitting on a deckchair on the beach, and sent them off thinking I was so cool and subversive.
Christmas was a strange time in Taiwan as all the big department stores put up huge Christmas trees and played the usual carols. Taiwanese went and took photos of themselves in front of the tree, or sat in the sledge, and then completely ignored it. I cannot state that strong enough: they just don’t celebrate Christmas.
Anyway, as a teacher of the American language, I had to teach the children all about the great traditions they would never follow, culminating in cards and presents and me dressing up in a santa suit. After getting over my embarrassment at shouting ‘ho, ho’ for a couple of hours, I realized the whole thing had touched my immature heart and I suddenly felt it wasn’t so cool not to celebrate Christmas.
I got on the phone to the guys.
“Man, it is only Christmas day. Capitalist junk”
“Only good if you are a kid or have kids.”
“Man, can’t you miss it for one year... It’ll come around next year.”
“Nah, I ain’t wasting money on a bad Christmas dinner in some big hotel”
It seemed nostalgia hadn’t got the better of the others. I knew one person who would be celebrating Christmas so I gave him a call.
“Hey, John, what are you up to tomorrow?” I asked.
“I have booked to go to the Hyatt for lunch. I booked two places – I am still thinking about which bird to go with because I know you college boys won’t be coming…You want to come?”
I know the big hotels always had Christmas dinner for the expat crowd, but they could be a little pricey. “How much?”
“1800 a ticket.”
“Hmm, make sure she is really hot,” I replied.
I wasn’t that nostalgic – well, I was but I was also too tight to pay that much.
My student Michael’s family – the ten year-old boy I was supposed to be preparing to go to the UK – had invited me to their house. It wasn’t my first choice to go to my student’s house on Christmas Day, but I figured the alternative was to sit at home lonely watching Christmas day celebrations from around the world on CNN. I called them back to accept the invitation.
“Happy New Year!” shouted Michael’s family when I arrived. Taiwanese just couldn’t get Christmas was the more important day of the two.
“My brother, his wife, their child…1,2 children…yes…children. We have…Christmas party for you,” said Michael’s father pleased with himself, showing his English in front his family.
“Here is your Christmas card and present,” said Michael.
“See I write…Uh, very good eh!” announced Michael. “You sit here.”
I had had dinner at the house many times, Michael’s mother insisting on feeding me almost every time I came.
There wasn’t any turkey, but the thought was already enough. By the end of the day we had been Tenpin bowling, to eat snacks in a night market, and to another brother’s house, and then to KTV, because everyone wanted to sing.
The most popular family sport across Taiwan at the time was ten pin bowling. If the family couldn’t think of anything to do, they went bowling. And, as I was a foreigner – and by connection American - they assumed I liked bowling.
9:00 pm – I was back at the hotel waiting for Josh and Eric, regretting leaving my student’s family to drink with my mates when the atmosphere had been so warm and family orientated. They had been so kind, and even though I missed England, I was feeling upbeat and reflective:
Not bad…alcohol consumption down from the half bottle of vodka a day to several pints.
Have decided to sleep well again when I leave.
Don’t talk to my mates in my sleep anymore, or call out to people on the street because I think they are my friends.
Idea that I will be here for a while is not breaking me out in cold sweats.
Don’t get frustrated and walk off, so often, when required to repeat myself twice.
Beginning to be able to spot “Britishisms” I speak, and change into dull American English.
Fuck I miss Desmond Lynam and Andy Gray’s voices for the footie. Never thought I would say, I would miss that Scottish bastard’s voice - But I suppose the Japanese porn channels on the cable goes someway to making up.
Grateful for the veneer of privacy my room provides - once I turn the TV up loud, can actually forget the thickness of the walls leaves me you forever prepared for someone to walk straight through them, apologize for taking a wrong turning, then go straight back out.
After being woken by the motorbikes outside, am able to go back to sleep within half an hour
The mad Aussie guy next door has stopped having the same argument every night, in which he threatens to send his girlfriend back to the Philippines….Ah, that is because I head-butted him so can’t really add to the Adapted and Became Tolerant Of list.
Language still impossible - Tonight I desperately wanted to tell Michael’s mother how much I appreciated things, but all I could do was keep saying ‘Xiere, xiere’ knowing I was probably saying go die in hell or something worse. Tonal languages meant extra opportunities to fuck up, and the development of a habit of saying every word many times (xiere, xiere, xiere,xiere) in the hope you might have got it right once, but they never told you if you had it right so you tended to say it just a few more times for safety’s sake. We are often confused and misunderstood in our own language, but then, at least, you can make your point and blame the other person for the misunderstanding. Here, you just looked like a cunt.
“Hey man are you there?” It was Eric at the door with his Taiwan beer, closely followed by John and Pierre.
“Did you treat someone hot for lunch?” I asked John.
“Ok, I suppose. Preferred to have given you the ticket on reflection, but I guess I am just not Taiwanese enough yet.”
“What about you guys? Get up to anything?” I asked Eric and Pierre.
“Nothing,” they replied.
We had all been in Taiwan for about a year now, and as it was Christmas day, and although, the others denied it their parents had all called them and a couple of reflective thoughts had crept in. Eric, Josh, and Pierre shared one thing in common, separate from John: they choose to come to Taiwan and had been looking forward to the experience, but from there experiences diverged. Josh was not such a flurry of pride and confusion at the environment because he had already been on the road for three years, with stays in Australia, Thailand and Europe. He had got most of the basics of loss and disorientation out of his system a long time ago. He didn’t think too much about the culture beyond what he had to understand to do business, which was minimal – this wasn’t Japan, where supposedly not following certain etiquette could make or break a deal, the Taiwanese were very forgiving to westerners. He loved the small business, ‘can do’ culture of the Taiwanese. And, after a rocky start with the women, he was sure he had found his segment and it would be plain sailing after this. Besides, he would be gone back to Canada in a couple of years, Taiwan a distant, but happy memory.
Eric and Pierre had both come here straight out of college and were still dizzy, but then one was having the time of his life and the other disillusioned. In Taiwan you were always the foreigner. And it kind of showed how important your desires and goals were on your immigrant experience: Pierre wanted something for nothing and loved his status as the outsider, the center of attention; Eric was working furiously to belong, fit in, and wanted to be rewarded for his efforts to do so. Eric was particularly in a hurry to learn Chinese because he had figured he had a couple of years in Taiwan, before the pull of family got the better of him. Daddy was desperately trying to set him up with a good corporate job back home.
John, on the other hand, was still denying how much he loved Taiwan and where his destiny lay.

The temptation of being treated VI: Pierre's new occupation

On time, a couple of weeks after borrowing the money from John, Pierre revealed his new occupation.
He arrived at John's apartment, got out a huge wad of money, flaunted it, implied he had to go immediately, and, when we didn’t ask why, decided to say anyway.
"This is between us," he said. This was the first time we all got the this will be putting the future of the civilized world in your hands look and for a moment he had us hanging. He paused, desperately trying to appear as if he was solemnly weighing up rather than just blabbing - “I started work at a Friday club.”
“Yeah?”
“Your joking right?”
“No, two weeks now!”
“Jesus man. I want to know what is it like…” blurted Eric.
Pierre gave us a little detail – not too much because then we would have to be shot – and we sat back impressed, impressed that he was doing it and we knew someone who was.
"It is only short-term, but I am going to get together some cash, look around for something else…earn the money quickly and so I can do my stuff during the day."
“Nah, man! It is cool! For once you don't have to explain," said Eric.
“So the big question is, have you muff dived for money yet? Banged for a buck?” asked John.
“Man, every time you wank it money down the sink…Have you thought about insuring your dick?”
“Sorry, man! You are our hero, you know that,” I said.
Pierre took the stick because he knew he actually was the hero on this occasion. Besides, he was not going to answer the question, and for once, we actually wanted to know. We poured him a couple of shots of whiskey and he went off to work in the Armani suit he had borrowed the money for.
“He is still of course prostituting his language and nationality to get a job,” pointed out Josh at heart quietly morally outraged.
“I don’t which is better - prostituting your language or just plain old fuckin’ prostituting? No fuckin’ pun intended, boys.”
“I don’t know, but if it is true the dude has my vote for the moment.” Then Eric thought for a moment, “We are now his confidantes.”
It was true - We had become members of Pierre’s secret society, but with a twist: instead of fighting, pushing, and promising loyalty to get there, we were elevated to it kicking and screaming, with complete indifference. And we would never follow the rules, attended meeting, or do anything to keep up our membership.
“Anyway, are you going to that school tomorrow morning to sign up? - I’ll come with you,” asked Eric to Josh and John who were both paying money at the school with no classrooms and teachers to get a visa extension.
“But you are a serious student?” I asked Eric.
“I have a good language exchange now! Anyway, you know me...!” Eric had thrown himself out of every school in Taipei. And, now, because he loved studying Chinese and wanted to stay in Taiwan, he was going to pay at the school you didn’t have to attend so he could study at home.

The temptations of being treated V: Thinking about getting paid

A few months later and Pierre hadn’t made any positive moves. He still owed a lot of money, and was still determined not to teach to pay it back. He was also still toying with the invitation to be a Friday boy. He had said no so far but the idea of getting paid had crept a little deeper into his bones. He had no money in his pocket so tonight, he had made his way to the intersection of Nanjing East Road and Chungshan North Road, and was slowly walking up Chungshan where there were a bunch of boutique shops like Max Mara that appealed to the older crowd.
He chose a woman in her mid to late thirties – 10 years older than him - and walked over.
“Hi,” said Pierre. “How are you?”
“Ok. Uh, nice to meet me,” she replied checking over her shoulder to see if anyone she knew was around.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I am new in Taipei, and I am looking for a coffee shop. I have walked around for a long time,” he said.
“There is one behind you - There!”
“Uh, so stupid…I should buy you a coffee for showing me where to go. If you would join me.”
Twenty minutes later.
“You are very pretty you know. I can’t believe you are married.”
“Thank you, but I am not going to fuck you.”
“You are married. I know.”
“Yes, I am a Taiwanese girl. We are not so easy. Most of you foreigners have AIDs, don’t you?”
Twenty minutes later they were walking into a hotel. Pierre tapped his pocket. “I should go and buy some condoms. I don’t want to give you AIDs.”
“Whatever,” she answered.
“Whatever it is then.” He continued to press the elevator’s doors shut.
A couple of hours later in the reception, it was time to pay. Pierre shuffled in his pocket. “I have left my money at home.”
“That is okay. My treat,” she said.
“Uh, I’m sorry, which direction are you going? - No, maybe that is not a good idea…Could you lend me a hundred for a taxi?” said Pierre.
“Here is 500. Really you should be more careful,” she said.
“Thank you. I agree. Please you get the first taxi.”
He waited for her to go and started to walk in the direction of the hostel. Then he remembered she had given him 500 dollars and he could afford a taxi and dinner now. He thought about treating himself to a steak dinner – he hadn’t eaten anything good for a few weeks – but then he would be worrying about how to eat tomorrow, and he wanted a break from worrying where his next meal was coming from. He walked to the night market and ordered a big bowl of beef noodles to fill him up. All along the street were doubled parked BMWs and Mercedes, their owners sat on the plastic stools in front of the food stall. Food was a fantastic equalizer in Taiwan. Back home once you made money you started to be picky about your food eating caviar or special health food, rather than bangers and mash. In Taiwan, however, you never forgot the food you grew up with – your mother made for you. It kept you humble. The other main crowd in the night markets were the KTV girls opening Louis Vuitton bags and checking the time on their Cartier watches. There was a lot of money to be made in escort work.
Can you call me Pierre – was the message on his phone from various people who he owed money to. Unfortunately, there was no message from the girl from the modeling agency offering work.
He hadn’t found anything he was interested in doing yet.
It would be easier if I was a teacher, he thought. But it is just not for me.
...
A few days later we were all in John's room in the hotel drinking beer before going out.
“So when are you going to take over the bloody world?” said John asking Pierre what we had all been wondering.
It had to be John to ask because that way we wouldn’t get an hour of you know I am the man. how can you question I am not on the path grandstanding. John wouldn’t listen and so to keep his cool image Pierre knew he would have to change tact and appear to get the joke at his expense.
“Only joking, mate! I have taken a while to get a hang of things, too!” taunted John.
Pierre smiled again, but there but there was little room in his self-image for anything that suggested he had problems working things out. It was now five months since he had made his declaration of intent that he wouldn't be pigeon-holed as an English teacher, he would succeed on his own terms. All his money now came from irregular modeling or advertising work, and the two private students he had kept – and this was all the lowest forms of short-term foreigner work, that he was supposedly was not going to do. He was broke, beginning to run out of excuses, and acutely aware that he was not making good on his promises.
"What happened to the job selling advertising space?" I asked.
One week ago, Pierre had proudly told everyone how he had a job on a new bilingual magazine set up by foreigners, but he was selling advertising space in Chinese, proving that he could do anything here. It lasted one week before he walked out, after having to get up every morning and go to work for nine.
"Hmm, exploiting your nationality does pay well for doing little," said Eric.
Pierre sat smarting for 10 minutes before making an excuse and leaving.
...
Two days later John got a knock at his door.
“Can I ask you a favor?” said Pierre.
“What is the matter, American and Canadian won’t lend you any more money?”
“Of course not! I just can’t find them, and it is an emergency”
“Always is mate, always is. So, how much do you need?” John figured he owed him one for the ad – fifteen thousand for dressing as Tarzan and behaving like an idiot for half a day was much appreciated.
“Twenty thousand!”
“That is a fair chunk of cash!”
“I have a little business I am up to.”
‘Whatever! What is the most -” John was about to ask him what his most prized possession was, but then thought better of it.
“You know if I lend you this money I am not going to take any shit. You have 2 weeks to put it back in my hand, at my convenience…I may be leaving anytime so two weeks is all I can give you.”
Pierre had so far not borrowed money from John, because he was aware of his own problems with paying back on time and the consequences of not doing so.
“No problem!” he said, overflowing with smugness that deliberately implied, with what he was going to do, it is really not going to be an issue.
“I have a few things to sort out, but when I do, we can have a little chat about what I am doing.” John shut the door and laughed, he liked Pierre because it was like having your very own soap opera performing for you on a daily basis; worth lending him the money just to see those pantomime facial expressions. Today he just got a glimpse of a new one - fuck I am up to something big…God maybe this is a little too much for you…let me think about if I can confide in you. It was an expression we would learn to love and laugh at over the years.

The temptations of being treated V