Oh Thank Heaven...

According to the Handy Guide for Foreigners in Taiwan, this country has the highest concentration of convenience stores in the world.  The major cities have a convenience store on every corner.  Any good-sized town will have several.  The closest to us is just up the road, a five minute scooter ride away.

You might see a Family Mart or an OK Store here and there, but 7-Eleven dominates the market.  7-Eleven is my oasis for American snack food.  Regardless of what time I enter the store, I always get a friendly “good morning!!” from the clerk.  I head straight to the drink section for a Coke, then to the candy aisle for a package of plain M&M's.  Both are 100% authentic and taste just as God intended.  (BTW they're test marketing new coconut M&M's here and yes, they pass the test!!)

Finally, bypassing the tea eggs and rice balls, I grab a can of Pringle's.  I once swore I'd never eat Pringle's again after living off them for days while covering a hurricane, but now I enjoy them again in moderation. 

Convenience store robberies are a growing problem here.  (Another reminder of home!)  A TV news story last week featured surveillance video of a young bandit chasing a clerk around the store with a knife.  Turns out he needed money, not to feed his drug habit, but to pay for time at an internet cafe. 

When I think of 7-Eleven, I recall an old commercial from the '70's.  My Taiwanese friends think it's just hilarious when I tell them about it...  “Oh thank heaven for 7-Eleven.”  Frankly, I don't see what's so funny.

I've Been Glocalized!!

I recently attended a two day seminar on glocalization.

Taiwan's government is urging small businesses to be more friendly and accessible to foreigners, especially English-speakers.

I think that's what glocalization means. I'm not exactly sure because the seminar was totally in Chinese.

Here's a picture of my Glocalization class.  I'm the white guy in the back.

On a Political Note (Pad)

I heard the commotion out on the front porch about 9PM. Yet another political candidate or batch of volunteers come to call. This group is all wearing red vests. It reminds me of Halloween back home.

It's time for local elections here in Taiwan. The streets are lined with banners and signs depicting would-be office holders looking honest and forthright. In the evening, bands of supporters roam the neighborhood, handing out stacks of note pads with their political message on the front, and blank pages inside. Yesterday someone gave us a package of vote-for-me kleenex.

Mercifully, there are no political ads on TV, although I did see a PSA warning candidates that they face jail time if they're caught buying votes.

Like everywhere else these days, the main issue is the economy. Things are okay here but not great. Incumbents are also facing scrutiny for their actions during and after the powerful typhoon that hit Taiwan back in August. One local mayor was off playing mahjong and became stranded far from the center of rescue and relief efforts. She may have been defeated by a landslide and it's not even election day yet.

The group on the porch smiles and laughs when they see me. Politeness always counts here, so I'm handed a stack of note pads, even though I clearly can't vote, much less appreciate their message. I smile back. Sometimes I'll give a thumbs-up and shout, “Obama!!” That gets 'em every time.

News You Can Eat

Every evening I like to reminisce about my glamorous career in TV news by watching Taiwan's national newscast. Not that I understand much, but it's fun to watch. The anchors are attractive and professional. The production values are pretty good. But what I enjoy most is the subject matter.

This is a peaceful country. Taiwan isn't at war. Guns are outlawed so there's not much violent crime. Politics can get ugly but its mostly over my head. Just like the rest of the world, they enjoy a good celebrity scandal in Taiwan, but those usually don't take up much of the evening news.

So Taiwanese news producers stack their shows with stories about things anyone can relate to...like food. I'll bet at least 15 minutes in every news broadcast is devoted to things that are grown, caught, cooked or eaten here. Tonight there was an in-depth report about German pork producers promoting the consumption of pigs' feet in Taipei. That's sort of like encouraging Southerners to eat barbecue or Eskimos to eat whale blubber... totally unnecessary.

Watch this story on the CTS website to see a man eating a hamburger (or something) the size of his head. Later in the same story we see close ups of meat being sliced, a pastoral scene of farm animals (goats, I think) and school kids being served lunch. I have no idea what it all means, but it's fairly typical of what you'll see in any newscast here. Enjoy...and would you pass the soy sauce?

One Stop Shopping

If you find yourself in Taiwan and need a toy truck, any size or style of underpants, AA batteries, a deck of playing cards, a fried chicken leg, purple nail polish, a pineapple, a plastic wash tub, baked goods, a t-shirt with a catchy slogan, a comb, any part of a pig, a knife, veggie peeler or other kitchen gadget, a CD by a Chinese or Japanese pop star or just about anything else to make your life more comfortable, you can find it for cheap at a night market.

Think small town fair with crazy asian street food combined with an outdoor five and dime. Crowded. Kids everywhere. Screaming, laughing, running. Noise. Sing-song sales pitches blaring from cheap speakers. Even the lighting is weird. Strings of those curly fluorescent bulbs hang overhead casting their slightly eerie glow over it all.

Oh, and the smells. One might expect all the delightfully exotic aromas of the far east to mingle through the air of the Taiwanese night market, right? There are plenty of less offensive smells to the night market, but there’s one that clings to my olfactory memory banks like a fragrant nightmare. Taiwan’s favorite street food…the aptly named stinky tofu. To my western snout, stinky tofu smells like dirty socks times 100 and that is putting it nicely. (Yes, I’ve tried it. And once is enough.) They sell a lot of stinky tofu at the night market. I think you catch my drift.

In our town, Shuelli, Thursday is market night. In the big cities markets can be found any night of the week.

I’ve put in several appearances at the Shuelli night market. As I waded through the crowd the first time I figured it was my movie-star good looks and radiant personality that attracted so many stares from young and old alike. But Peiling pointed out that people here almost never see a middle aged white guy in the flesh. So I was just a walking freak show.

And that gave me an idea. We’ll set up a booth. I’ll hide behind a curtain and Peiling will charge NT$100 ($3 US) for a peek at the handsome American uncle. We’ll be easy to find. Right between the underpants and the stinky tofu.

If Karl likes it, it can't be good.

Alicia has been making fresh tomato juice right in her kitchen. She uses either red or yellow tomatoes and a little lemon or lime juice, that’s it. Totally natural. To me it’s tangy, but not sour, slightly sweet, but not sugary. Her juice is nothing like the processed stuff that comes from a can.

I even bought a bottle of Tabasco sauce to add just a little more zip. I keep thinking Alicia’s tomato juice, a celery stalk and a little vodka would make a fine Bloody Mary.

But there’s a problem. It doesn’t sell well. Many of our Taiwanese customers say it’s too sour. It’s the same complaint they have with American food. They generally don’t like anything very salty or with a strong sour flavor. And for some reason the juice just doesn’t’ suit their taste.

So the new rule is: If Karl likes it, it’s not good.

Fortunately we have a couple of dozens bottles in the freezer. Even if they sell slowly, I’ll have a supply of tomato juice for a while.
Now, where can I find a bottle of vodka?

Visits

The driver grins and waves at me as the big yellow truck pulls into our driveway. There’s always a lot of construction work along the busy road we live on so it’s not unusual to see such a truck. Loops of cable, tools and other gear filled the back end. A cherry-picker is mounted on the back, the kind used by workers to service power lines. I figured he was just using our driveway to turn around. But no, he’s parking.

Two neatly dressed young men get out and amble over to the porch. The driver smiles, shakes hands and says something to me in Chinese when Peiling comes out of the house and the conversation starts.

They are indeed workers from the power company. Their job is to patrol the lines everyday looking for potential problems. But the power grid in Taiwan is built strong, to withstand typhoon conditions, so on a nice day there’s not much for these fellows to do.

They are here because they’ve seen our picture in the newspaper. A few days earlier, Peiling and I happened to meet several journalists who were visiting the farm club in the next town over. The reporters sensed a good story in a middle-aged woman who started a farm with her sister and American husband. We took them on the nickel tour of the farm, they snapped a few pictures, and next morning, there we were in the paper.

Our new friends, the linemen sit and chat for a while. They sample Alicia’s tomato juice and talk a bit about the weather and their job. Soon, their curiosity satisfied, the big yellow truck roars away amid more smiles and waves. It never hurts, I think, to have friends with the power company.

That one newspaper article created a steady stream of visitors over the next several days. Long-lost relatives, organic food enthusiasts, more journalists and even total strangers dropped by to satisfy their curiosity about Grateful Growers.

I’ve found such visits are an important part of the social fabric here. Hardly a day goes by that some friend or neighbor doesn’t drop by the house or farm to say hello, discuss the price of produce, explore the greenhouse or drop off a small gift. “We brought you some (bananas, beans, lemons, etc.) we picked this morning.” No need to call ahead. Shout your presence through the screen door, or like most folks, just walk right in.

Our most frequent visitor is Cho Yuan. He has citrus farm on the other side of the river and was a big help to Peiling and Alicia when they were getting started. Cho Yuan is either related to or friends with most of the local movers and shakers. He’s a great source for contacts and information. Getting things done efficiently here depends heavily on who you know.

Cho Yuan is always smiling and friendly to me even though our conversations don’t go far beyond “hello and ni hao?” Last night Cho Yuan dropped by with his wife and son bearing a small sample of coffee beans and some chicken feet.

We’ve also spent many pleasant evenings visiting at Cho Yuan’s, eating, singing karaoke (not me) and drinking tea. The first time we dined at his place, Cho Yuan presented me with the leg and thigh of a beautiful freshly roasted chicken. I didn’t appreciate the significance at the time, but he was giving me the prime cut. Chinese consider breast meat dry and tasteless and much prefer the dark, bony parts of the bird.

Tea is another important component of hospitality in Taiwan as in all of Chinese society. Almost any gathering, whether in a home or business will include the small, simple ritual of brewing and serving tea. For me, aside from good old southern iced variety, tea is an acquired taste. But after dozens of tea drinking sessions, I’m coming to appreciate the clean, slightly bitter flavor of high quality tea.

During my time in Taiwan we’ve called on the local school principal, the pastor of the aboriginal church, our town’s doctor, agriculture professors, and other organic farms, not to mention so many of our neighbors that I can’t remember them all. Without exception they’ve been welcoming and sincere. Each visit brings new light to life here in Taiwan.

This week is sure to bring more visitors. If you’re in the neighborhood why don’t you stop by? Don’t bother to knock. Just come right in.