Taiwan

Where to start... where to start?? ... I guess I should begin by explaining why it's been so long since I last posted. The last week and a half has reconfirmed to me once again that, at this point in the history of the world, the greatest thing known to mankind - without exception - is surfing. End of discussion. During my time in Taiwan, I was blessed with two beautiful typhoons which pumped amazing swells towards the country's east coast, and, because of this, my entire life revolved around chonglang (surfing). I ate, drank, and breathed chonglang every day, and posting on this blog didn't exactly fit into my schedule. With that said, let me provide a brief (unless I ramble, which, based on previous habits, is likely) synopsis of my adventures in Taiwan.

Fortunately, CKS Airport reopened last Tuesday, and I flew to Taiwan in the morning. I was met at the airport by some friends whom I had not seen in maybe five years - the Chang family - and they drove me from the airport to Taipei (about an hour drive). Generosity and warmth are common elements of Chinese culture, but the Changs totally outdid themselves. They treated me to a huge feast for lunch, bought me my train ticket, and showered me with so many gifts that I'm embarrassed to admit that I accepted them. It was so nice to catch up with this wonderful family and to hear about all the new happenings in their life. When I was welcoming them into the US five years ago, I never would have imagined that I would soon be visiting them in their own country, speaking their own language. After this great reunion, I took the train for about four hours south, down the east coast of Taiwan, to Hualien. Hualien is one of the most beautiful cities in Taiwan, dwarfed by imposing (at least 6,000 ft.) mountains to the west and situated next to Taroko National Park (which is an awesome gorge that is home to many waterfalls as well as interesting Aboriginal culture; I explored the gorge during a day hike starting early one morning so I could surf in the afternoon). Great beaches are located both to the north and south, making Hualien an excellent surfer hangout. Having done a bit of research, I decided to stay in the Formosa Backpacker's Hostel, and I could not have made a better choice. The hostel is run by a really cool Taiwanese girl named Yachen, who saves all her money for traveling and takes about five months each year to globe-trot. The walls of the hostel are covered with travel photos, landscape paintings, and most notably, surfing memorabilia. Yachen happens to be good friends with TK, the local surfing guru. Unlike Taipei, Hualien is not home to that many surfers; in fact, the local crowd only numbers about twenty or thirty. This group, though, is based out of TK's surf shop (the only one in the area), which is located about 45 minutes south at Jici Beach. Although Jici does not usually get the most powerful waves, it's the only true sand beach near Hualien and is a very safe, fun place to surf. TK's shop is located up on the cliff overlooking this beautiful beach, and it couldn't be a cooler place. Surfboards, surf photos, and surf videos abound; speakers pump out soft rock, reggae, and mellow tunes for surfers lounging outside in hammocks; and a big crazy yellow lab named Touzhan can always be found chewing on surf accessories. Actually, one of the coolest things about this place, I think, is that it's right at the forefront of what's essentially a little cultural revolution. Surfing is still very much a fledgling sport in Hualien - none of these guys, even TK, has surfed for more than a year or two - but there is so much enthusiasm and excitement! TK basically invested all his money in a surfshop even though no one in the area knew how to surf. A lot of the locals are now quite good, and it's just neat to see how both the sport and the culture are starting to take root.... Anyway, the great thing about deciding to stay at the hostel is that, since Yachen is friends with TK, I immediately found myself on the inside of the surfing scene. By Wednesday morning (my first full day), I had rented a board, learned the locations of some of the best spots, and met a bunch of the local surfers. One of my roommates, a Canadian guy named Tylor who teaches English in Taiwan, is a big surfer, too, and he introduced me to some of the other English teachers who surf. Before long, conversation at the hostel revolved almost solely around surfing; I actually felt a bit sorry for the few non-surfers staying there, as they were forced to listen to our daily reports on each break plus our speculations about the next day's waves. Nevertheless, I really, really enjoyed being around others who are as obsessed with surfing as I am.

I'll get back to surfing in a bit, but I'd like to change subjects for now. While the surfing was amazing and I can't stop thinking about some of those waves, surprisingly the most vivid memories I have of Taiwan - the ones that will always stick with me and define my experience there - were acquired through a different activity: dabian che (hitchhiking)! Don't panic, Mom; hitchhiking in Taiwan is totally different than in the US. From the time I arrived, Tylor raved non-stop about hitchhiking, and all the other foreigners told me that it's definitely the way to go. I was a little doubtful, but it did seem like a convenient way to check the surf breaks (you can't exactly tell the bus to stop at each break, wait ten minutes while you check the waves, then take you to the next place). So, wondering if I stood out enough in my bathing suit, sandals, and rashguard - surfboard under my arm and sunglasses on my head - I tentatively made my way to the side of the road and gave the old thumbs-up. Now, despite the efforts of my fellow foreigners, hitchhiking - like surfing - is still a fledgling activity in Taiwan. Therefore, I received a wide variety of responses to my thumbs-up sign. The least surprising, I suppose, was the always enthusiastic thumbs-up in return. Sometimes I'd get a peace sign, sometimes a friendly wave, but most often just a dumbfounded stare. Occassionally, a driver would stop, explain that a bus runs along that particular road, and even offer to take me to the bus station; it was always a bit awkward trying to explain that I prefer not to pay for my transportation. Every once in a while, though, someone who had either figured out the drill due to a previous encounter with one of my friends or "had seen American movies" (as they would explain with pride), would pull off the road, roll down the window, and ask that beautiful question which I loved to hear: "Ni qu narli?" ("Where ya' headed?"). As I refined my style and learned by emulating my friends, I began getting rides in less time than it takes to say dabian che. I learned that the height of the thumb is particularly important - too high and you're perceived as aggressive; too low and you don't seem interested enough. Also, a slight bend of the risk indicates confidence, and a smile never hurts. I still haven't come to a conclusion about my wide brimmed hat and shades; when I wear them I definitely look the part of the surfer - which intrigues some drivers - but I also hide my red hair and foreign features - which also intrigues some drivers. It seemed that no matter what I did, though, I always got rides. The best thing about hitchhiking in Taiwan, however, is that you get a lot more than just a ride. I received a free drink on approximately two out of every three rides and free food on one out of every three rides. In his three months here, Tylor has already gotten two free lobster dinners. About fifty percent of the drivers would end up giving me their business card and telling me to call any time I needed a ride. Per Taiwanese custom, every ride would also entail a lengthy set of personal questions about my home, my family, my university, and my stay in Taiwan and China; this turned out to be an excellent way of practicing Chinese. Needless to say, I was also treated to a wide variety of music - some really good, some not so. In all, my hitchhiking experiences defined my time in Taiwan and were some of the most unique, memorable, and fascinating encounters I've ever had with people from a different country. The only way to truly capture these experiences would have been to videotape them, but perhaps a brief sketch of several of my rides will give the reader a better idea of what hitchhiking in Taiwan really entails:

- Opening the car-door, I see two sisters in the back and their parents in the front. Thirty seconds down the road and the dad already wants to know if I have a girlfriend. When he learns that, like his older daughter, I'm 19 and in my second year of university, he really gets going. This leads the mom to wack him in the side of the head every three or four minutes (no exaggeration), which causes him to laugh hysterically. I learn later that the parents are in a playful mood because it's their anniversary; Christine has to settle for a picture and my email address.
- An "Abo" (short for Aboriginal and not intended to be demeaning) in one of the typical blue farm trucks pulls over and he appears to be offering me a ride, although his dialect is very hard to understand. We putter down the road at about 15 mph while he interrogates me throroughly on my relationships with the girls with whom I'd been surfing. Although the situation is a bit awkward and I'm wishing I were in the back of the truck where Tylor is, I later learn that in the back with Tylor are a bunch of huge propane containers that fall over and crush his legs every time we round a curve.
- A small car already packed full with five kids - who are probably no older than I - pulls over and the driver insists that there's room for me, Tylor, and both of our boards. Although we practically have to sit on one another, we all squeeze in and head down the road. Upon arriving at our destination, the kids ask to take a picture with us. Of course we oblige because we don't know exactly what we're getting ourselves into. About 30 pictures later (again, no exaggeration), they finally run out of ways to pose with our surfboards. Of course, we have made their day by putting on our sunglasses, flashing aloha signs, and pretending to be "real" surfers.
- An eccentric little lady in the tinest, most cluttered car I've ever seen also insists there's room for me and my board. She spends ten minutes rearranging all her stuff so that we can just barely fit the board diagonally from the back window to the front windshield. She drives with her head sticking out the window.
- A Taiwanese businessman who designs and sells satellites spends forty-five minutes raving about America and his experiences there. He calls for full Taiwanese independence and expresses his gratitude for American protection. He also informs me that his stomach does not handle Mexican food very well, as he explains that during his most recent four day stay in the US, each family with whom he stayed fed him Mexican food for both lunch and dinner (not knowing what he had eaten previously); being Taiwanese, he was too nice to tell anyone.
- A young dude in a sports car screaches to a stop and starts asking me lots of questions about surfing. He explains that he surfs in Taipei, and I end up introducing him to TK and getting him in the Hualien surfing loop.
- A driver to whom I've been speaking Chinese for a few minutes suddenly informs me that he's from Costa Rica. I feel pretty stupid for speaking the wrong language, but he later tells me that he understands Chinese too.
- An outgoing, talkative family, asks me if I know where to buy the best lobster. Remembering what Tylor has told me, I start to get excited, especially when they continue talking about lobster for the next thirty minutes. As we pass through a little town, they suddenly remember that this is the best place to buy lobster and explain this to me excitedly; unfortunately, they conclude that they don't have time to stop.
- As I stand by the road with my thumb up, I see a car approaching with something sticking out the window. Upon closer expection, I realize that there are two surfboards sticking out the window! Excited about the possibility of meeting new surfers/hitchhikers, I'm rather disappointed when I see Tylor and Jamie (another one of my friends) stick their heads out the window and laugh at me because I haven't gotten a ride yet.

I don't know if I've done a very good job of depicting the Taiwanese hitchhiking scene, so maybe I should just say that it's one of the coolest, weirdest, and most unique things I've experienced. What it left me with, though, are some really memorable encounters with the Taiwanese people. It also left me feeling very attached and grateful to these people. I've literally never met people who are so friendly or so accomodating. They would wake up their little kids and make them change seats so I could fit in the car, they would never decline a ride after noticing my surfboard, and they would never complain about the sand, salt, and water I undoubtedly left in their cars. Simply put, the Taiwanese people could not have been any nicer to me. I left the country today very much infatuated with its people and its culture. While I love China (mainland) as well and will definitely return there to travel, Taiwan is actually a place I wouldn't mind living for a time, and I'm thinking seriously about studying abroad in Taiwan. Although Chinese culture pervades the island, the Taiwanese people have formed their own distinct culture as well. I find it very easy to relate to and talk to the young generation, and things are a bit more laid back than on the mainland. While I still got the occassional prolonged (defined as lasting for more than 35 consecutive seconds) stare, there was certainly not the feeling of being an animal in a zoo, as there was in China. Although this is definitely preferable, it actually does have a few downsides. First, in Taiwan, many locals actually expect me to be able to speak Chinese (sometimes even starting a conversation in normal-speed Chinese). Since Taiwan has fewer short term tourists than China and has many long term English-teachers, Chinese speaking-foreigners are not at all uncommon. What this means is that I no longer got the "Oh, Wow! You speak Chinese! You speak so well! I can't believe you've only studied for one year! ...etc. etc." I happen to like positive reinforcement, so this is sometimes a bit depressing. Also on a sad note, Taiwanese girls do not seem to be nearly as obsessed with me as Chinese girls. In China, I was this "tall, athletic, golden-haired boy" (in their own words) unlike anyone they'd ever seen; in Taiwan, I was just another guy. Nevertheless, the positives of Taiwan definitely outweigh these two small negatives; plus, I can cope with anything if I have a surfboard and a few waves.

Back to surfing, I'll give a really short account of some of my adventures, more for the sake of reliving the experiences than anything else. The typhoon that left Taiwan the day I arrived was the largest to hit the island in five years and it brought incredible waves. The day before I arrived, one of the local Hualien surfers actually paddled out into triple overhead surf despite the coast guard's alarm ringing all along the beach (meaning a major fine if you're caught in the water). As my unsuspecting friends watched the news that day, they noticed the camera zooming in on a small dot far out in the ocean. Sure enough, coast guard officials on the beach were shouting through a megaphone at some crazy surfer; the news station filmed him being taken into custody (once he decided to paddle in, of course; there was no way anyone was going to go get him) but wasn't present when he payed the 5000 USD fine. The swell gradually died off during my first days in Hualien, but I still had several days of good surf. I spent one night with TK, his girlfriend Angel, and Tylor out at the shop in Jici. After surfing all day, we went out for a night surf under the full moon and then got up before 6 AM the next morning to hit a nearby break. During the second half of my stay, the surf was continually building as a typhoon off the coast of Japan pumped in excellent swell. I earned some serious respect from the locals by paddling out solo to a relatively unknown point break called Lide or Containers. After paddling around the point, I found a beautiful break that featured one perfect, almond-shaped barrel after another. I was relatively cautious, as the currents threatened to pull me into the rocks, where there would be no way to escape because the shoreline was a shear cliff, but I still got some great waves. The cliff wasn't my only worry, though, as my friends and I had already had plenty of experiences with rocks. Many of the places we surfed featured dry rock (meaning you have to navigate around the rocks); what was even scarier was looking down to see rocks a foot and a half under your board as you're cruising down the line (simply put: not a good time to fall). Two of my friends currently have bandages over half their heads. Also, there were jellyfish. These aren't the "big blob" kind of jellyfish found on the east coast of the US; these have extremely long tentacles that really sting. One guy lifted his arm out of the water and the jellyfish was still hanging on, its tentacles wrapped three times around the guy's forearm. Also, on my first day, TK had proudly shown me a newspaper clipping of an 11 foot shark caught by fishermen in Hualien. Of course, he reassured me that there has never been a shark attack in Taiwan; however, considering the fact hardly anyone in Taiwan goes in the ocean (the vast majority of Taiwanese people cannot swim and are terrified by the ocean) , I don't think this means much. Anyway, I put away my fears and took advantage of the great surf, getting some much needed experience surfing different kinds of waves. Also, the fact that I was surfing unknown waters added to the adventure and to the experience as a whole. The surf really built on Tuesday, and a bunch of us raced over to Jici, which surprisingly had the best wave of any of the breaks. As I was running down the beach with my board, putting on my best surfer expression for the locals on the beach, I saw one of my friends, Geoff, another Canadian, drop in on a huge double overhead monster and start crusing down the line in what seemed to be slow motion he was so dwarfed by the wave. I paddled out and spent the rest of the day catching the best waves of the week - super long rides all the way to the beach. With only one full day left, I wanted to get in a lot of surfing, so I spent the night at Jici again and got up early the next morning. The swell had died a bit, but there were still some really fun waves. I got my two most memorable waves on this day - the ones that I can't seem to stop thinking about. The two rides were nearly identical, as I dropped in backside, reached down and grabbed a rail, and - with my eyes half-closed due to the water crashing over me - took a leap of faith, leaned back, and tucked my head into the tube. If you surf, then you know the picture I'm describing, and you know that it's the epitome of the perfect ride. As if this weren't good enough, I followed both tubes with big snap turns off the lip that inspired hoots from several locals in the water... [Wow, if you actually read through that, you're truly a devoted fan; I apologize, but I just couldn't help but write that description.] By the end of the day yesterday, I was doing more kicking than paddling because my arms were so tired. Beautiful sets were still rolling in, and the sun, setting over the mountains, had turned the trails of spray and mist peeling off the back of each breaking wave into mesmerizing golden arcs . Each time I fell off my board, I would literally just bob up and down under the water - unable to tread water anymore - until I could pull my board over to me - but it was so wonderful, I just couldn't make myself go in. After one last memorable ride all the way to the beach, I finally did go in, taking a few minutes to sit in the sand and appreciate the wonder and beauty of the ocean. Every time I surf, I realize I'm playing with the brute power of nature and may end up succumbing to it; each time I return to the beach, I feel I owe the ocean some sort of gratitude for allowing me to return another day. With the fading of the day's last light, I also realized that my trip had come to an end. I'd certainly gone out with a bang with two full days of great surfing, and, although I wasn't ready to leave, I was content with the adventure I'd found and with the knowledge that there's limitless adventure to be had when I return.

Last night and this morning, I packed up, said goodbyes to all the awesome friends I'd made at the hostel, and got ready to head home. I would like to note that, last night, I met two guys who are actually more extreme than I. They had been in Taipei for a big air (ie. 10 story jump) snowboard contest and were visiting Hualien for a little surfing. When I got on the back of one of their motorbikes (which they had rented), I failed to realize that, as extreme people, they would undoubtedly treat me to an interesting ride. I wasn't too hungry for dinner after the wheelies and swerves that we did on the way to the night market but I just kept telling myself "You're half way through this; you're not going to die on the last night of your trip after you've already made it through so much." On the way back, I honestly thought I was going to prove myself wrong; the gates in front of the train tracks began to lower and the sound of an oncoming train could be clearly heard. These guys both looked at each other, grinned, and accelerated. At this point, I'd given up all hope and just decided that I might as well enjoy the only time in my life I'll ever actually get to try a James Bond stunt. To my surprise, though, they slammed on the brakes at the last second, and probably for that reason alone, I'm still alive... After taking the train back to Taipei today, I was met by Mrs. Chang, who was again extremely nice and far too generous. After saying one last goodbye, I flew back to Hong Kong, where I'm currently writing this post and hoping that, by staying up late tonight, I might actually be able to sleep on the plane tomorrow.

So that's Taiwan...true to its original name, Formosa, an astonishingly beautiful place. Remarkably friendly and kind people, a fascinating culture, a booming economy. The one thing I don't understand is why tourists don't go to Taiwan. Most people don't even know that Taiwan is a tropical island, and they certainly don't know that it has some of tallest mountains in Asia (numerous 13,000+ ft. peaks) and some of the most beautiful beaches in the Pacific. I hesitate to elaborate because the relative absence of tourists (compared to China) is one of my favorite things about the island and I don't really want to encourage people to visit. But, I would be doing the wonderful people of Taiwan an injustice if I failed to acknowledge what a world-class place Taiwan really is. Put simply, I'll be back. Aloha -