Training, etc.

My mind wandered as I gazed out the fifth story window of the Hess owned building. In the midst of the never-ending hustle and bustle down below, planes made their way to the not-so distant tarmac, like lost sparrows dodging obstacles of skyscrapers, temples, and crowded highways to find their nest once again. The National Palace Museum peaked through the smoggy haze, its colorful dragon statues a landmark to the Western eye. The droning of our trainer’s demonstration provided background noise to my distracted observations. Although training had proved to be useful, I was ready to start teaching as soon as possible. One gains experience by doing, I mused as our Wednesday session came to a close. Take fifteen rambunctious kindergartners who only know Chinese and one foreign teacher who has no clue what he’s doing, and see what happens. What an interesting formula, indeed. 

That afternoon I hopped in one of the many yellow taxis circulating through Taipei, and went with some new found friends to see the world’s tallest building, Taipei 101. Built to resemble a bamboo shoot pointing its way towards the heavens, Taipei 101 dwarfed our small group as we struggled to lift our heads to take in the enormous structures. From a distance, one tends to question the structure’s claim to fame, but from up close it is easy to test it’s validity. Shapely mannequins, serenaded by blaring techno beats, greeted us as we ventured through the automatic doors of the first floor. Here, the rich and wealthy could indulge their gluttonous appetites while squandering their riches on high-end shopping. Marble flooring paved the way from Armani to Prada and beyond. Ignoring images and beckoning lights, we found our way to the elevators and proceeded to rise above the cash-spending frenzy below. Despite our efforts to reach the top, we arrived too late and were told the observation tower was closed. Another time, another visit, we decided.

Outside, we escaped the sterile environment of Taipei 101 and headed towards a well-known night market not too far away. Vendors selling neon colored t-shirts for discount prices marked the sides of the narrow alleyway. Contrary to popular belief, 80’s fashion is not dead but alive and thriving in Taiwan. A collection of fried goose heads and chicken’s claws caught our eye from their perch above a steaming pot of hot oil. Vertical signs, advertising God knows what in Chinese characters, painted the night sky above the market. Our empty stomachs interrupted our meanderings and we entered into a restaurant whose exterior cast an inviting glow from low hung Chinese lanterns. An interesting fusion of cuisine and traditional medicine, the restaurant serves therapeutic dishes consumed to ameliorate energy levels in the body. I chose the ginseng chicken and was shortly welcomed by the bitter, meaty broth.

After enduring numerous hours of demonstrations and instruction from the Hess staff, training final came to a close. Having been informed of a puppet show involving Kung Fu fighting and a tragic love story as only the Chinese know it, we decided to celebrate by attending the event. The obscure pub was moderately full when we arrived. Eerie-looking martial arts puppets measuring an impressive two and a half feet, lined the bare walls as if to protect the institution from unseen invasion. An eccentric man sporting glasses and a thin moustache made introductions as I gazed at my surroundings. A table of German tourists sat drinking beers, enthralled by the puppet master and waiting for the upcoming spectacle. Several Chinese children occupied the front row as they tore into French fries their parents had ordered.

Nobody came away disappointed. With his assistant nearby, the puppet master began his hilarious masterpiece from behind the black-lit stage. With sound effects, miniature swords, and even a burst of fire, the story unfolded. An exaggerated fight between two rival masters followed a choice encounter with a furry and friendly dragon. Reminiscent of the Street Fighter games and their various spin offs, the puppets delivered flying kicks and punches in appropriate fashion. Torn apart by their love for the same woman, the weapon toting puppets settled the score as one payed the ultimate price of death. Not without its bizarre moments where the puppet master attempted to translate parts of the story into English, the event was thoroughly enjoyed by all.

Of course, the puppet show could not be complete without a small workshop where the primarily foreign crowd has an opportunity to put on their own demonstration of sorts. Clearly passionate about his art, the puppet master shared his secrets with us through smiles, gestures, and explanations in broken English. After receiving our own practice marionettes, we were instructed on how to use the life-like figurines. Graduating from the small to the large puppets, we quickly realized how heavy they were and how tiring it must be to hold them up for an extended period of time. Finally, several of us were invited to step behind the curtain and invent our own brief story. My puppet looked menacing with its painted-on eyebrows, long pony tale, and flowing robes.

KTV, also known as Karaoke Television, is mind-blowingly popular in Taiwan. From a young age, Taiwanese children learn to hone their musical skills while singing into a microphone. For parties of any magnitude, Karaoke never fails to be on the list of activities. We were not to be the exception to this unfamiliar past time. Following the puppet show, a group of us went in search of the perfect place to prove our musical inclinations. Nestled in a seemingly dark alley off the main drag lay the holy grail of KTV venues. A comfortable couch greeted us while the waitress brought snacks of fruit and nuts. Our rowdy neighbors quickly made their presence known in slurred Chinese and encouraged us to sing. Laughter and misunderstood Chinese filled the small room as a duel commenced between the American and Taiwanese groups. I eventually found myself singing and dancing with a crazed lady who insisted I knew the English words flashing on the screen. In all reality, I had never heard the melody in my life. Although only a handful of songs were familiar, a good time was had by all. Needless to say, Karaoke has become one of our favorite things to do on a Saturday night.