Tag: Taiwan

Preparing for Chinese New Year at the Hwang’s

BettyLeave a comment

Longtime friends of my aunt and uncle, the Wang’s were finishing up some last minute Chinese New Year preparations when my cousin and I paid a visit to them last night, to visit this little guy:

Colin Chen, Mr. Hwang’s grandson. He’s going to be very handsome. I can tell.

The Hwangs are a very traditional Taiwanese family and have an altar room in their house. In addition to weekly worship, Chinese New Year means a special offerings of fruits, nuts, and candies, all placed upon the altar. Mr. Hwang explained that they worship ancestors on the left and Guang Gong (關公), a Daoist deity, on the right.

On the front table there is a “wooden fish” on the left – a percussion instrument carved from one piece of wood, engraved with fishes. When struck with the muted baton next to it, it makes a crisp hollow sound which helps Buddhist and Daoist worshipers keep the rhythm of their prayers. On the right is a bronze bell. When struck, its resonance is meant to summon the spirits.

Mr. and Mrs. Hwang prepare goods on red plates to place upon the altar for offering. On the wall are portraits of Mr. Hwang’s deceased ancestors. From left: his older brother, who passed away at the age of twenty; Mr. Hwang’s mother, his father, and his grandfather. I forgot to ask who the bust is.

A close up of the wooden fish. No one in my family can decipher the second word (the first means “King”). I should have asked the Hwangs.

Guang Gong.

  
 
Coiled incense. 
Mr. Hwang and his spring posters: “fortune” on the left, and “spring” on the right. Traditionally, these are hung upside down on the front doors to signify the arrival of both. 
The beautiful red envelope Mrs. Hwang gave me. 
Now it’s time to prepare for our family’s Chinese New Year dinner. But I’ll leave you with this because everyone knows, babies bring good luck:
HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!!!
 
 FANTA!!!

The Perils of Consumerism

Betty1 Comment

After my grandfather passed away, my family packed up their belongings and relocated to a new house across town. The idea was not to abandon our old home, a seven story building on a quiet street in a bustling part of town, but to renovate and move back in a year’s time. Most people know though, there’s nothing like a move to make you aware of how much stuff you have. Consumerism is a global epidemic and Americans are no less guilty of it than the Taiwanese, but because space is far more limited than the suburban sprawl of southern California – from the size of apartments to the width of the streets – the “problem,” (isn’t it a problem?) is paradoxically magnified. Pair this with the tendency to walk and take public transport and everyone’s shopping habits, however long the ride, are on display.

What to do, what to do? Nothing, if like what seems like ninety-nine percent of Taiwanese women and young men, you believe that retail therapy is the best therapy – a panacea for ailments such as a stressful job, broken heart, and worst of all, the green-eyed monster. In their small houses one can only hope they are organized or have the good sense to throw out or donate what they no longer need. If not, they might, during an earthquake, become victim to what my grandmother once joked as “the world’s most convenient morgue.”

And now: the Culture.

We start with things close to home: one of many drawers in my cousin’s closet. A penchant for t-shirts of any color. I folded them for her so that more could fit in one drawer and after having done so, said, “You cannot buy anymore t-shirts.”

 The as of yet unorganized storage room in my aunt’s house. When I first arrived, she opened the door to show me and shook her head, defeated, “Most of it is junk,” she admitted.

Somber Chinese paintings still waiting to be hung, some of which, because the new house lacks wall space (new cabinets to accommodate the stuff), will never be hung again.

The culprits. The instigators. The aiders and abetters.

The original Pacific Sogo – a Japanese department store that despite its age, remains one of Taipei’s most popular if not THE most popular shopping destination. I ought to go right ahead and blame the Japanese, since most of the department stores here are of Japanese origin. In addition to Sogo (of which there are four in Taipei alone) there is Takeshimaya, Mitsukoshi, and the latest baby, Hankyu.

Even the ubiquitous 7-Eleven, founded in Dallas Texas, is now owned and operated by a Japanese parent company and stocked with Japanese goods. There is literally one of every corner. Sometimes, these convenient stores are the most dangerous places of all, especially when one is terrible at math and ill-informed about conversion rates. 

Fancy a drink? Good luck deciding.

 The Japanese really do take everything and make it better. I am addicted to the hot pot ones on the right. Addicted.

 FF for French Fries. Amazing.

 I am addicted to these as well. Damn the Japanese. Damn them! No, I take it back. I love these.

One of Taipei’s more popular bookstores (though the mother of all bookstores is Taiwan’s own Eslite Bookstore) is Japanese as well. In Kinokuniya, a woman skims a book she doesn’t need and if she buys it, won’t read (sometime I am often guilty of). 

But it would be wrong to blame the Japanese entirely.

Taiwan itself has its own national retail personality, comprised of a peculiar breed of shop: the tiny but exceedingly satisfying “We Sell Everything” hole-in-the-wall.

Socks, umbrellas, hosiery, and, towards the back, scarves, gloves, hats, bags…

 One of thousands, a random snack shop carrying everything from Japanese goods to cans of abalone, an expensive delicacy.

The victims:

 This man stood proudly next to his car and told anyone who would listen how much it was. I forgot the number, it was so ridiculous.

This morning she thought, “What should I wear today? Oh I know, EVERYTHING!”

Young boys poring over their lottery ticket – big business in Taiwan – hoping to make it big the fast and easy way so that they might be like the man with the red sports car.

Older gentlemen wishing the same thing.

It doesn’t matter. It all ends up in the same place anyway:

Happy Birthday, Formosa

Betty1 Comment

I never pay attention to things like this, but Taiwan turns 100 this year. Last evening I randomly accompanied my cousin to a company basketball practice and walking out, looked up and saw Taipei 101, formerly the world’s tallest building (that honor, I believe, now belongs to the Burj Khalifa in Dubai). I often forget that Taiwan is as young as it is, much younger than the United States. The humidity and smog – when it was bad – blackened the grout and discolored the porous tiles and bricks of certain buildings, giving them a gloomy, aged look comparable to people forlorn because they had aged prematurely. But contractors are getting wiser and more tasteful – now steel and glass are the materials of choice – or have long been, since construction on Taipei 101 began in 1999. I used to think the building was ugly, saying that it resembled a stack of take-out boxes, but now I cannot imagine Taipei’s skyline without it. Such things grow on you.

But that’s enough of an architectural digression – see for yourself.

To Market, to Market

Betty5 Comments

When I was young, I hated going to the Taiwanese open air markets with my mother, preferring the air-conditioned grocery stores in the basements of department stores where produce prices would sometimes match that of the designer merchandise upstairs. During the summers it was hot and sticky and the market almost always guaranteed that your nostrils would be assaulted by a million smells from fish to pork to durian (the smelliest fruit in all the world and my mother’s favorite) and your face and vision by random billows of steam. Pushing and shoving in an endless train of other sweaty, shouting people also didn’t help, but somewhere between then and now, I grew up and while it’s not my favorite destination in Taipei, the open air market is one place where one can observe some of Taipei’s most interesting interactions: images of Taipei’s citizens from wealthy society ladies with their Philippino maids to aging grandmothers to young children dragged along by their young mothers, as I once was. People from all walks of life squeeze through, mingling and looking, all speaking the same language: food.

Now that Chinese New Year is fast approaching the markets are particularly packed with women (and some men, looking lost or hungry) on the hunt for the best meat, fish, poultry and produce to bring home so that they might prepare a meal whose quality rivals Taipei’s finest restaurants. Many families, such as mine, eat out, but it doesn’t hurt to stock up for those quiet days after Chinese New Year’s Eve, when groceries and markets close.

This is where I passed my first two mornings in Taipei: yesterday in East Gate Market and today in South Gate Market, one of Taiwan’s oldest open air markets, as old perhaps as the Republic itself. My aunt likes the company, though she complains that it’s rare for my cousin to go to the market with her. “You young women nowadays don’t know anything about picking produce and meats, and even less about cooking. I wonder what sort of wives you all will be.” I wonder too. My camera in hand, I touched nothing, occasionally bending down to take a macro shot or smell something. Most of the food was familiar to me, but only in that I knew how it tastes and not how it is prepared. My uncle laughed when I came home, looking slightly flushed from the crush of people. “To market, to market,” he said, “What’s tomorrow, West Gate Market?”

We’ll see. Here are a few photos from Taipei’s finest markets:

  
The Garlic and Ginger lady. 
 Pink ladies – serving up some ready made, homestyle dishes for those ladies who, after shopping for groceries all day, will be too tired to actually cook them. 
Faithful patrons waiting for their favorite brand of cured, dried pork. 
 One of many meat vendors, whose swiftness with their cleavers and calm amidst the chaos and corpses fascinates and unnerves me.
 
Her sister, the sausage vendor.
 At another sausage vendor, business is very good.
 
 Bright green chili peppers. After all that meat, some produce was refreshing.
A head above the rest. A colorful vegetable stand.
And then I turned around and saw this: a pan of roasted piglets… Just as quickly it was whisked away.
I hoped this guy was fixing something and not looking through inventory…
Roasted pumpkin seeds. 
Black chicken feet, waiting to be steamed…actually, I’m not sure Taiwanese people eat it that way.
As it is the year of the Rabbit, these lascivious images were everywhere.
As were these decorated honeydew melons and other fruit. The character means “prosperity” but it’s upside down, which in Chinese is a homonym for “has arrived.” Thus: “Prosperity has arrived in the shape of a honeydew.”
A woman working in the rare, quiet corner of the market.
This man saw me eying his large, dried fish and said, “Here, take of picture of me and my fish.” I obliged, and it is a pleasant picture. Man and his work.
Hella mushrooms. 
And in the middle of it all, a monk begging for alms.

Return to Taipei

Betty1 Comment

The last time I was here was August 2009, for my grandfather’s funeral. Much has changed: the house (remodeled), my cousin’s job status (employed), and the location of my extended family (spread out in three points across Taipei). But some things never change – or at least they won’t for a long long while.

My uncle wakes up every morning at the crack of dawn to exercise. On weekends, he’s responsible for buying breakfast.

My uncle: the middle child (my father is the eldest).
Interests: long walks to the temple, the stock market, the newspaper, fried pork sung, and living to 100 at least.

My breakfast: Tuna sandwich with a cup of sweet hot black tea (or ‘red’ tea, as they call it here).

Chinese New Year is just around the corner…I can’t wait!