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Zurich's historical city straddles the Limmat River which will later join the Aar River as it comes from Berne on its way to the Rhine River. Zurich was a Roman toll collecting post, and was equipped with a Carolingian castle under Charlemagne. His son Louis the German founded the Fraumünster abbey in 853 endowing it richly with lands. After a spate under the rule of the Dukes of Zähringen, the town was made a free imperial city after the death of the last duke. The abbess of the convent was promoted to the rank of duchess, making her the ruler of the city.

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She lost her power to the gilds over the next century, and the city joined the Swiss Confederation in 1351. Zurich was one of the starting points of the Reformed Church und Ulrich Zwingli, as well as the birthplace of the Baptist Church. Zurich was a very rich city already in the 14th century, as the Manesse manuscript shows (shown in Heidelberg, Germany), a beautifully illustrated bible that was paid for by the family Manesse in Zurich. Zurich has remained the financial centre of Switzerland to this day.

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The town centre is dominated by the Grossmünster, also a gift of the German emperors, the Fraumünster, and the church of St Peter with the largest tower clock in continental Europe. Zurich boasts the most expensive and exclusive shopping mile in Switzerland, the Bahnhofstrasse. It has also a nightlife that never stops concentrated in the area between the railway station and the Grossmünster, called Dörfli (little village). Numerous restaurants, bars, and clubs are to be found there side by side.

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Zurich is situated directly on Lake Zurich, which is the main bathing site in summer. Yearly in August, it hosts the largest event organised in Switzerland, when over one million people come into the city centre for the Streetparade. Over 40 Lovemobiles (a name derived from the Berlin Loveparade) take to the streets hammering out techno sounds at maximum volume.

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Zurich has many glorious places to see and to visit; apart from buildings mentioned there is the zoo and Lindenplatz with a breathtaking view of the city. Apart from that, there is one recommendation you wouldn't first hand think of: The Imperial Chinese Garden. A gift of the city of Kunming in China for the help rendered by the town after an earthquake, it is the only complete Imperial Chinese Garden outside of China I know of.

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The language spoken in Zurich is Alemannic. The rest of Switzerland makes fun of the inhabitants of the city because they confound nightlife with culture. Zürcher (people of Zurich) denominates anybody living in the vicinity of Zurich and is not meant friendly, Stadtzürcher (people of the city of Zurich) is only used for second generation inhabitants of the town, and Gnomes of Zurich is the name for the bankers.

Famous inhabitants in the past include Lenin and Goethe. Zurich is home to the Federal Technical University whose main buildings above the city were designed and built by Gottfried Semper who had previously built the Opera at Dresden. Being already professor for architecture at the University of Zurich, he headed the finding committee for the submitted architectural plans. When these were found lacking, he drew new plans himself and took over the building supervision at the same time.

For further information on the city of Zurich you may want to go to the official homepage of the city government zuerich.ch.

Hari Raya Aidilfitri

Date in 2009 : 20 Sept (Sunday) & 21 Sept (Monday)

Hari Raya Puasa is a day to celebrate the fasting month. It's also known in the Muslim term as Eid ul-Fitr. It is a time for family members and friends to gather around, reconcile and strengthen the relationship among each other. In Malaysia, the non-Muslims are often invited to join in the celebration by visiting their Muslim friends for a feast in their homes.

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Chinese New Year

Date in 2009 : 26 Jan (Monday) & 27 Jan (Tuesday)

Chinese New Year or also known as Lunar New Year is the most important celebration for the Chinese people across the globe. The celebration begins on the first day of the first Lunar month and ends on the 15th day of the same month.

It is said that long time ago, there was a mythical beast called "Nian" (in Chinese) which came to the city on the first day of every year in order to devour livestock, villagers and kids. One day, the creature was scared away upon seeing a kid in red dress. Since then the villagers decided to use a lot of red things and even used fireworks to scare away the creature. That's why you can expect to see a lot of red color and fireworks during the Chinese New Year celebration.

During this festival, there will be plenty of food, family gathering, mandarin oranges, red packets (a sign of good luck and best wishes), etc.

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Deepavali

Date in 2009 : 17 October (Saturday)

Deepavali or Diwali is a major Hindu festival. It is also known as the "Festivals of Lights" where people light up small lamps in order to signify victory over the evil within an individual. On the Hindu calendar, this festival falls on the new moon day which ends the month of Asvina and begins the month of Kartika. The celebration is said to last for 5 days.

During this festival, you can expect to see a lot of lights, flowers, fireworks, sweets and worships.

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Gawai Dayak

Date in 2009 : 1 June (Monday)- 2 June (Tuesday)

This Dayak Festival is celebrated by the Dayak (collective name of the native ethnic groups of Sarawak such as Iban, Kayan, Bidayuh, Kelabit, etc) people of Sarawak state on the 1st day of June every year. It is a time for friends and family members to visit each other. The entire festival lasts for several days.

Expect to see a lot of food such as the famous glutinous rice (steamed in bamboo), rice wine (tuak), cock fighting and blowpipe competitions.

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Mid-autumn Festival

Date in 2009 : 3 October (Saturday)

Also known as Mooncake festival and Lantern festival (Zhongqiu Jie), this is a very popular festival among the Chinese people (second to Chinese New Year). It is held in the 15th day of the 8th Lunar month. The famous food during this festival is none other than the mooncakes. Family members will gather around during this day to enjoy the mooncake, tea, pameloes and the bright mid-autumn moon.

Expect to see a lot of colorful lanterns, candles, mooncakes and pameloes.

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Thaipusam

Date in 2009 : 8 Feb (Sunday)

Thaipusam is a Hindu festival celebrated by the Tamil community. It commemorates both the birthday of Lord Murugan and the occasion when Parvati gave Lord Murugan a lance so that the former could vanquish the demon Soorapadman. In Malaysia, this festival takes place in several locations but most notably in Batu Caves (near to Kuala Lumpur). Every year, millions of devotees and thousands of tourists will gather in this place to witness the celebration which includes the famous 8 hours procession.

Expect to see a very grand procession which involves hundreds and thousands of people which starts from the heart of Kuala Lumpur and going up the 272 steps to the top of Batu Caves.

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Wesak

Date in 2009 : 9 May (Saturday)

A celebration observed by Buddhists in many countries including Malaysia. It is sometimes called "Buddha's birthday". On the day itself, devotees are encouraged to assemble in their respective temples. Activities such as the hoisting of the Buddhist flag, offerings of flowers, candles and joss-sticks, etc will be carried out. Devotees are also encouraged to make a special effort not to take any life and to take vegetarian food during this day.

Expect to see colorful processions and decorations, and plenty of devotees in temples.

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Christmas

Date in 2009 : 25 December (Friday)

Christmas Day is an annual holiday which marks and honors the death of Jesus of Nazareth. During this day, family and friends will gather to celebrate and to participate in the gift-giving activities. There will also be plenty of decorations set up by shopping complexes especially in Kuala Lumpur area. If you're in Malacca (Melaka) state, be sure to check out the Portuguese Settlement where they have an annual celebration of lights and food.

Expect to see a lot of sales, beautiful Christmas trees, Santa Claus, gifts and cookies.

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There are other festivals in Malaysia such as Hari Raya Haji, Harvest Festival, Hungry Ghost Festival, and others. It'll be too long for me to put in everything inside here. Just remember to check the calendar the next time you are planning a visit to Malaysia. Who knows, maybe you will get the chance to participate in the many festivals that Malaysia has.

All photos are taken from Flickr and the descriptions are from various sources on the Internet including Wiki.

All dates are using 2009 calendar. Certain dates may change depending on certain condition (such as Hari Raya).

The unique little town of Locke, California is located in the Sacramento River Delta.  It is the only historic village in the United States, ­­­­­­­­­– built by the Chinese, for Chinese immigrants.

The settlement was established when a fire destroyed the Chinese section of the neighboring town of Walnut Grove.  Rather than rebuild in the same area, a group of prominent Chinese merchants financed and constructed a new town about a half mile south of Walnut Grove, on land leased from George Locke.  The investors had ample money to buy land, but in 1915, California law prohibited Chinese immigrants from owning real estate.  The oppressive law was declared unconstitutional in 1952.

 Locke has always been little more than a wide spot in the road.  The tiny community has only two streets.  The commercial center of Locke is a few blocks long, and located on Main Street.  The residential area parallels Main Street on Key Street.

In 1920, the town looked pretty much like it does today, but it had more residents.  About 630 Chinese immigrants occupied Key Street and the second floor apartments above the handful of buildings on Main Street.  The number of inhabitants began to decrease shortly after the end of WWII.  By 1950, the population was down to 400, and at present there are approximately 100 residents, –a dozen or so are Chinese.  Locke has become a virtual ghost town.

Today, the narrow main street of Locke has a unique charm not found in other historic towns.  The paint-worn wooden buildings are original, and connected by a patchwork of wooden and lumpy cement walkways.  Some of the extremely tired buildings are propped up, some are leaning into the street, -- most are structurally challenged, but all convey a strong sense of early Chinese American history. 

The Main Street storefronts are mostly empty except for a few curio shops, a bar and restaurant, and a small general store.  You can peek into the windows of the long vacant buildings, and use your imagination and the dusty furnishings, to conjure up images of the little businesses that occupied the space over the last century. 

On the same street you will find the original single-room Chinese schoolhouse, –always open to the public, and the Dai Loy Gambling house, one of the oldest buildings that was the social center of town until 1950.  It is now a makeshift museum for tourists, and well worth the small price of admission. 

The one-way Main Street offers limited parking, especially in front of “Al’s Place,” a fun hangout that draws an interesting clientele.  Established in the 30s, and popularly known as “Al the Wops,” this locally famous bar and restaurant was the only non-Chinese business in town for many years. 

You cannot walk the tiny center street of Locke without being transported to an earlier time.  Close your eyes and visualize the quiet past.  Imagine the street full of colorful red paper lanterns swaying in a warm summer night’s breeze.  Listen to the muted laughter from the now empty apartment windows, and smell the incense and multitude of food fragrances of the Orient.  Even today, voices seem further away than distance would suggest.

Everything about Locke is old, and odd, but visitors would not have it any other way.

 

Our fear is that the Locke we cherish will eventually succumb to concerns about tourist safety, or to building codes, or perhaps (God forbid) be destroyed by fire, like so many other wooden towns of the past. 

Locke is an easy one and one half hour drive from San Francisco.  The charming all-wooden hamlet has managed to remain relatively unchanged for almost 100 years.  Make a point to see it while you can.  

Back to Part One of 'A New Yorker's Adventure in Taiwan'

Part 2

Sunday, 12 PM

It’s a day off. Time to see the city. Except that it’s pouring rain. I decide it’s a good day for shopping, so I ask the concierge at the hotel where I can find a bookstore to get my phrasebook. I find that the rain makes the humidity and temperature drop considerably, to much more tolerable levels. Another 20 degrees or so and it would be downright comfortable.

Directions in hand, I head off down the cramped and crowded streets of the city in search of my prey. I find it in a huge department store known as Sogo, in the 9th floor bookstore (Ugh! More elevators).

Cultural observation #2:

Like all the other Asian cultures I’ve seen, the Taiwanese are incredible synthesists. Crammed in two-dozen to a block, the narrow shops contain everything imaginable. Chinese food shops are sandwiched between Japanese comic books and Western style women’s dresses. One shop, one of the few with English signs up, advertises Swedish massage AND reflexology.

My hotel is not actually in Taipei, but in an industrial city to the southwest called Dzhungli (China Trust), so I won’t be walking or taking any taxi rides to see the tourist areas of Taipei, as it is too far away. I’ll have to try to find a tour bus on a weeknight or next weekend. On the other hand, there are no real tourist traps here, so I seem to be seeing the real Taiwanese as I weave my way through the crowds.

Unlike the other parts of Asia I’ve been to, Taiwan seems to be fairly ethnically homogeneous. In fact in the couple of hours I’m on the streets, I don’t see a single European, Indian, or African face. Children stare at me, point and tug on their mothers’ dresses. I can see I’m not going to “blend”.

My phrase book firmly in hand, I return to the hotel. I make a fool of myself in the lobby with the concierge as the two of us practice the four “tones” necessary to pronounce Chinese words. Afterwards, I return to my room, practicing as I go. The hotel staff is further amused. At least they seem to give me credit for trying…

Monday, 7AM

Off to work! But wait, the power at the plant today won’t come on until 1PM. So we’ll go at 11AM instead, work for an hour on UPS power, go to lunch, and come back just in time for power up. And so my workweek schedule is set.

Thursday, 8PM

The week has been uneventful, a blur of taxi rides and crouching over CRT screens in the dark, punctuated by bouts of fitful sleep as my jet-lag wears off. Feeling better, and having had almost six hours of power at work today, this evening, I’m breaking out of my hotel’s protective layer of English speakers and going out with a colleague for a sampling of the local night scene.

We start out at an almost invisible second-floor pub called Good Morning Vietnam. We walk in, and it’s just the two of us and the bartender, in the dark (this block gets its power back at 9). This is not an auspicious start, but I figure a cold beer is just what I need after a week in this heat, so we head in. As it turns out, my colleague knows the bartender, and we start talking. She’s pretty good at English, and likes to teach Chinese words, so we end up staying for a few hours, and a few more beers. Through the night, other foreigners wander in, and it turns into a bit of a convention, but I pick up as much intelligence on being a foreigner in Taiwan as I can. Afterwards, we wobble over to an upscale local restaurant where, the word is, there’s a waitress who speaks English.

I guess the English speaking waitress isn’t on duty tonight, so we’re on our own with my phrasebook. Chinese is difficult enough to get around in verbally, but the hard part is the characters. You can’t look up words when you can’t even read them, and there are no pictures. We just barely get the point across that we want beer, rice, beef, and chicken. The meal we get is excellent, and although fairly expensive, worth the effort. One dish in particular stands out. We receive a plate of what seems to be kung pao chicken, except that it sits on a huge bed of what appear to be (and taste like) stir fried habanero chili peppers. Wow! That’ll put hair on your chest. We go home happy, but maybe a little more uncomfortable than any of us is willing to let on…

Friday, 8PM

The power stayed on all day today. For once, I leave work not feeling like I was run over by a hot tar-spreading machine. Now comes the nightlife. We start out at Good Morning Vietnam again, where another colleague joins us, and we start crawling the pubs. Two local women, friends of my crawling companions from previous nights on the town, join us shortly.

Note: Looking back from ten years' distance, the next two paragraphs will seem rather dated to most Americans, but consider how prescient the observations were!

Getting together with people here is in interesting phenomenon, as everyone has a cell phone. I mean everyone. Period. Even 8-year-olds. No one seems to make plans to go out, they just go, and then call all their friends (who are also all out looking for likely nightlife prospects) when they find a happening place. The night begins to resemble a command center for a military action. When things slow down at one place, the phones pop out, and each person taps their own intelligence network to locate where the party crest is headed next. If two or more people come back with corresponding data, the situation map is updated, and the human tide begins to flow to the next locale.

It’s really rather eerie. It also makes me wonder why cell phones have been so slow to catch on in the U.S. At home, my phone still sometimes gets me stares like I’ve grown a second head. Maybe the new digital networks are what we’re waiting for, as it seems the US bet on the wrong horse in the cell phone technology game.

During the course of the evening, I discover two things. First, Taiwanese love Americans, and can’t resist the chance to talk to one. Second, discovery number one presents a big problem when trying to discern if the woman who’s just struck up a conversation with you is actually one of the local “Working Girls” who assume American businessmen must be seeking their particular brand of entertainment. Needless to say, the evening’s festivities are not without the occasional embarrassing moment.

Saturday, 7AM

Groggy and cursing myself again, I drag myself to the office. The evening’s festivities tonight include dinner at a good Japanese steakhouse, and bed. After planning out my touring activities for the next day, again I sleep the sleep of the dead.

Sunday, 5AM

Since I only have one day to act like a typical tourist, I have planned a full menu. A morning trip to the northern seacoast, an afternoon trip to the mountains (and an aboriginal village called Wulai), and a night tour of Taipei. Of course, since Taipei is an hour’s train ride away, I have to head out early. The city of Dzhungli is deserted at this hour, no one around to observe my distress as I try to match the rather fuzzy symbols on my map to those on the street signs. I make it to the train station, and find a ticket counter where they speak English. Ticket in hand, I head for the tracks. Armed with the name of my destination and the words for please and where, I manage to navigate to the right platform. There’s a quick panic as the train pulls up, as I have no idea as to which way Taipei lies, but a helpful security guard indicates that this is the way to go. And so, I’m off.

Taipei is a bustling city. I reminds me of New York City, if Chinatown took over. The streets have the same taut energy and tight spaces, only more concentrated. One colleague of mine previously described it to me as “a zoo”. I feel almost at home here. My blood pressure is rising by the minute, just like home.

Having tracked down the tour guide, I’m off to see the seacoast. The northern coast of Taiwan would be rocky, except for the fact that the rock is a particularly soft sandstone, and pieces that break off disintegrate. Instead, the coast is one solid piece of stone, weathered by wind and sea into fantastic prominences and smooth curves. There is what appears to be a field of giant mushrooms (three to four feet tall) clustered on a point jutting out into the sea. Some formations resemble human heads, others look like frogs, cars, dogs, turtles, chairs etc. The landscape resembles a Dali painting, as if someone scattered random objects on a blank field and melted them, then set the scene against a seascape.

At the water’s edge, there is a profusion of life. Without a beach, the bottom shelves off just below the surface, so bottom dwellers abound inches from my feet. Crabs, conches, cowries, and dozens of other kinds of shellfish I’ve never seen busily go about there business in plain view. Some of the life has taken root in weathered basins as much as 20 feet above the waterline, where they were presumably tossed by the waves. Locals are out in droves fishing here, with huge surf fishing poles, some at least 20 feet long. Vendors nestle among the formations, selling recovered seashells and tiny conelike shellfish deep fried and served up in plastic bags (previous to this discovery, I was alarmed by the sight of a child who was apparently sucking one of the local tide pool denizens out of his shell).

Next, I trek to the interior of the island (if you call an hour in a van trekking). The mountains are spectacular. They’re much taller than the Appalachians, and topped with narrow spires which point upward at crazy angles, yet covered with greenery all the way to the top.

The aboriginal village is disappointing at first. No huts or jungle, just another small town perched precariously on the steep slopes of a narrow river valley. We are directed into a large structure where the tribal dancing will take place. Inside, we are informed that it will be a bit over a half an hour before the next show, and surrounded by women of the local tribes who have learned foreign languages quite well. We each get assigned our own solicitous companion by some unspoken selection process. They pour us tea and ask questions about our homes, making small talk until we finish our drinks. Then the selling begins. They have quite an extensive collection of “authentic” tribal products for us to buy, and no compunction against using the hard sell. I see a tribal shirt that catches my eye, and it is my salvation. The starting price is ridiculous, about 1200 NT dollars (about $40), and is immediately “discounted” to 800 because she will “make a special deal for an American tourist”. I offer her about 8 dollars American, and keep the haggling going for a good five minutes. In the end, I pay about $17. Probably more than it’s worth, but worth it to wear her out and buy some breathing room until the show starts. And it actually is an attractive shirt.

Exhausted from my ordeal, I amble out into a courtyard to wait for the show. I am rewarded by a breathtaking view of the river valley out over the edge of a cliff. On the far wall, a waterfall hundreds of feet tall courses into the river below. At this moment, the sun chooses to come out for the first time since I’ve been in Taiwan. The mountain mists, waterfall, and river pick up the rays, and I’m surrounded by light, as though I’m looking down a crystal tunnel.

Then we are herded into an amphitheater, and the show starts. I am impressed. The costumes look like a mixture of Indian and Chinese clothing, the faces look like a mixture of Korean and Polynesian peoples, and even the dances are familiar, much like native American dances I’ve watched, but the music and singing are utterly unique. I find the combination quite entrancing. In one dance, women snap long bamboo poles together in a complex, syncopated beat, while other women dance in between and around the poles (think double-dutch jump rope, but with four ropes, all at different angles, and 8 jumpers).

After the show, we are told we will now ride in a “push-cart” down the mountain side, the way locals delivered harvested wood to the Chinese up until about 60 years ago. I’m thinking hayride, but we get cyclone. The pushcart is a mini train, powered by what sounds like a lawnmower engine. It clatters up, and we sit two abreast in the tiny open-sided cars. We then proceed to roll over the edge of a cliff. In reality, the incline is probably less than 60 degrees, but one doesn’t think of such things while careening wildly through S-curves at 40 miles an hour, tree branches whipping past inches from one’s shoulders. I manage to snap one picture out the side of the car of the receding village, and almost lose my camera (and the hand holding it) to a passing tree. We’re all a bit wobbly when we get to the bottom.

Exhausted, I return to Taipei. The night tour includes a nighttime view of the city from the observation deck of its tallest building, and an excellent Mongolian barbecue dinner. Afterwards, we go to a night market, which is a wonderfully vital Taiwanese phenomenon I’ve observed before in Dzhungli.

At a Taiwanese night market, hundreds of vendors pick a street seemingly at random, and, at nightfall, flood it with stalls and shops, all but closing it off to motor traffic. These ad hoc bazaars quickly flood with locals looking for a deal. This particular night market is a permanent one established by the Taiwan government, probably mostly so that tourists can be sure of finding one. It is much like the others I’ve visited, but it includes one notable exception, the snake shops. In each snake shop, a hawker sells a unique cuisine. He does a bit of a carny show with a rather unhappy snake, then kills it with a hammer, making sure to splash at least a couple of the onlookers, then selling shots of drained snake blood and grilled snake meat. Transfixed by this gruesome spectacle, I become involved in the second traffic accident of my trip. Apparently, my standing completely still is simply too complex a pattern of movement for the young lady on a motor scooter that runs into me from behind. Fortunately, the crowds have slowed her motion, and I weigh more than the girl and the scooter combined, so both simply stop dead and fall over, with no damage to either party, other than a small bruise on my calf.

Lastly, we tour a nearby Buddhist temple with wonderful carvings and artwork and have our fortunes cast. Mine is predictable.

Mind numbed by 17 straight hours of touring, I struggle to buy a train ticket home, as there are no English speakers on duty at 11 P.M. I finally find my train, and drag myself back to my now seemingly plush hotel bed.

Thursday, 7AM

I’m on my way home. I’ve successfully dodged earthquakes, traffic accidents, asphyxiation, prostitutes, heat stroke, Montezuma’s revenge, and being dashed on rocks at the bottom of a cliff. I’ve also had a wonderful experience. I’m happy to go home, but I’ll miss Taiwan.

This is an amazing place, so familiar in some ways, so alien in others. It has a vitality, a self assurance, that I’ve never seen anywhere else, except in the US. On the other hand, it has a cultural tradition thousands of years old, and a propensity for the superstitious that mystifies me.

I think I’ll have to come back here sometime. But first, I need to learn Chinese!

Part 1

Tuesday, 5 PM

Taiwan, you say? That’s where they make the electronics, isn’t it? Oh yeah, and China keeps threatening to invade them for some reason or other, don’t they. You want me to go there? Well, it has been almost a year since I last visited Asia, and I’ve never been to Taiwan… Sure. Why not?

Thus begins the story about to unfold. Never one to turn down free airfare to another country, especially one I’ve never visited before, I make my travel arrangements, clear my calendar, and get ready to go.

Thursday, 3 PM

One week to go, and I get the news that Taiwan has had a massive earthquake, a 7.6, the largest Taiwan has experienced in recorded history. 2,000 dead, 80,000 homeless, and nationwide power failure decidedly do not leave me sanguine about the prospect of this trip. I inform my customer of my reservations and reach the agreement to wait and see, as one of their employees (an engineer I’ve worked with before) is going four days before I do, and will inform us of the conditions on-site. In the interim, Taiwan has three more quakes, the largest of which is a 6.8, doing nothing to help my peace of mind.

Tuesday, 9 AM

Two days to go, and the word comes back, that the area we are working in was barely touched by the quakes, not even so much as an overturned computer monitor. The advance team tells me that all is well with water and power systems, as well. The trip is on!

Wednesday, 5 PM

One day to go, and the portents blacken a bit. My basement just flooded, and the plumber is going to turn off my water all night to fix it. In the meantime, I have four loads of laundry to do before my flight tomorrow morning, so I guess I’ll be spending my last night at home in the laundromat…

Thursday, 9:00 AM

I scramble to the airport and just catch my plane, desperately trying to convince myself that only having gotten an hour’s sleep is a good thing, since I’ll be able to sleep on the flight and reset my body clock for the other side of the planet. A more disturbing omen pops up when I check my watch during the flight and discover that it stopped dead at precisely 9:00 AM, almost exactly the moment my airplane lifted off. I shrug off this superstitious thinking as a product of sleep deprivation.

Friday, 9:40 PM

25 hours (37 clock hours) later, my plane has just landed at Taipei’s international airport. Another adventure in the Far East is about to begin. I burst off the plane, eager to see another new country, the legendary island of Formosa. Baggage claim and customs go smoothly, for once, and I’m out into the main terminal in less than ten minutes.

Having left home in a hurry, I take the opportunity to change money and check my voicemail (which doesn’t work, because the phones with English instructions only take credit cards, and the payphones where I can presumably use my calling card only have instructions in Chinese). Flush with cash, but going into information withdrawal, I move deeper into the terminal.

My instructions are to meet two of my colleagues (whom I’ve never seen in person) in front of the Ritz-Landis counter. After some sign language and careful enunciation, I find someone at the information desk that speaks English and will show me to the counter, where I prepare to wait for my escort. Unfortunately, I discover, these counters aren’t actually for the hotels whose names they bear, but rather they are run by limousine companies who will drive you to these hotels for approximately twice what you would pay a taxi for the same trip. First, I have to spend ten minutes getting the point across that I don’t want a ride to the Ritz-Landis, since I’m actually staying at an entirely different hotel. Then I have to spend another ten minutes fending off the team from that hotel, trying to explain that I’m staying there, but someone is coming to pick me up and take me, so I don’t need a limo.

The limousine packs finally (but only temporarily) at bay, I wait for my ride, all the while cursing myself for not having learned any Chinese before coming (not even getting a phrasebook). Every Asian country I’ve been to previously was once a British colony, and so English signs and speakers abound. Not so Taiwan. I decide that a phrasebook is first on my shopping agenda when I get out into the city.

I wait over an hour for my ride, limousine drivers massing in my general vicinity like swarms of enormous, obsequiously smiling mosquitoes waiting to pounce upon me should I let my guard down. Unable to contact my colleagues by phone as the earthquake has apparently scragged a large number of cell towers, causing spotty coverage, I decide to take a taxi to my hotel. I get the nice lady from the information desk who helped me before to write the name of my hotel and its city on a piece of paper in Chinese, and I head for the taxi stand. My arrival sets up quite a din of somewhat angry sounding chatter among the five or six drivers present, but finally they come to some agreement and I am shown to a taxi, which takes me to my hotel.

Cultural observation #1:

The Taiwanese like neon and flashing lights. A LOT. As we pass, I see dozens of clear enclosed stands at the edge of the crowded streets, each with neon and/or flashing red police car lights proudly displayed atop them. At first, I put it down to street vendors hawking their wares, but after 15 miles or so, I actually take notice of one and look in as we pass.

I am surprised to find that it, like all the ones that I examine thereafter, contains a single, extraordinarily scantily clad young lady. I’m baffled. Prostitutes? Certainly the red light fits, but they’re just a little too blatant for even the most corrupt cop to pass by, and I’m sure I would have picked up on legalized prostitution while researching Taiwan’s political system and laws in preparation for my trip…

The next day I will inquire, and be told that these stands sell something whose name translates as “beetle nuts”, and that the women are simply a gimmick to bring in customers. With a name like beetle nuts (which I purposely do not pursue for a more detailed description), I’m not surprised they need to show people naked women to get them to buy them, but I’m still amazed by the ubiquity of the stands.

Saturday, 1AM

Exhausted, frustrated, and dejected, I check into my hotel. My mood is brightened a bit by the fact that the man at the desk speaks English well. Certain things will look better in the morning, I unpack quickly and fling myself with abandon into the waiting bed. Travelers’ Note: Do not fling yourself into a Taiwanese hotel bed. It is roughly akin to slamming one’s body onto a block of marble that someone has thoughtfully wrapped with industrial grade grip tape. Bruised and beaten, I nonetheless sleep the sleep of the dead.

Saturday, 7AM

A ringing phone awakens me. It is one of the colleagues who were supposed to pick me up last night, calling to see if the other one came to get me at the airport, and how long it will take me to be ready to go to the plant and begin work. Fortunately, I am just too tired to vent the incoherent rage that he has just caused, and I settle for telling him in a sleepy murmur that I should be ready in about three hours. I hang up. Sleep welcomes me again into its warm, comfortable embrace.

Saturday, 12 PM

On the way to the plant, our driver hits a motor scooter because the traffic light was not working. The scooter driver seems shaken, but not badly injured, and no insurance info is exchanged. My impression is that car insurance is more of a luxury for the rich than a requirement here. The scooter wobbles off down the road, and the trip continues. I’m starting to think someone or something really doesn’t want me to do this job…

We arrive at the plant under a glowering sky that threatens a downpour at any moment. We’re just in time for lunch. This is fine by me, as I’ve had no food in 24 hours. I amaze my companions, foreigners and Taiwanese alike, by choosing Chinese style food, using chopsticks, and eating my own body weight in foods I’ve mostly never even seen before. They say hunger is the best sauce.

We get back to the office and begin working. At 1 PM, the lights go off. Apparently, someone forgot to mention to me that Taiwan is under power rationing measures because of damage caused by the earthquakes. It’s no big deal, though, because the computers have uninterruptible power supplies to keep them running, for an hour. Unfortunately, the air conditioners do not. Oh and by the way, Taiwan is tropical. By 3PM, my clothes, and those of my co-workers, are soaked through, and I am discovering that oppressive heat and humidity cause me to have a good deal of trouble breathing. Time to go home. At least the cab will be air-conditioned.

Saturday, 4:30 PM

Back at the hotel at last, the lobby is positively smothering. I bolt for the elevators, eager to reach the deliciously cool luxury of my room. The elevator gets underway, and then makes some strange noises. The lights flicker, then dim, then vanish completely. The muzak dies the slow tortured death it so richly deserves. The car coasts to a stop, and the fans cease their soft whirring. So this is how it ends; alone in a foreign country, in a claustrophobically small, utterly dark box, with no air, in 97 degree heat. Or maybe it already ended, and this is hell…

Or perhaps I’m just being a bit dramatic. After a minute or so (it seems more like a half hour) the emergency power kicks in and I continue on my merry way. Welcome to staggered power rationing. This is how everyone in Taiwan will live until all power grids are restored to full function. I’d like to point out at this point that I believe 7-10 hours a day without power to be somewhat less than “all’s well” as I was assured the water and power systems were before I agreed to take this job. You can be damn sure I’ll only be drinking bottled water…

Part Two of 'A New Yorker's Adventure in Taiwan'

When it comes to food, an inexpensive selection and extremely varied choices are available here from the Malays, Chinese and Indians. The best Malay dishes are spicy and fragrant - curries, rendangs, nasi lemak, and sate can be tried out by any Malaysian. These mouth-watering delights can be consumed anywhere; be at food stall, coffee shops, or restaurants. The same goes for the Chinese and Indian food. The Chinese are famous for various styles of cooking, such as Hokkien or Szechuan, whereas the typical Indian food like "Roti Canai" and "Capati" are all very familiar to fellow Malaysians and foreigners alike. This wide selection of culinary delights is often served at functions and festivals.

Undeniably, Malaysia is truly a land of a thousand dollars in festival, which are celebrated on a large scale basis throughout the year. Hari Raya Puasa is celebrated by the Muslim community, the Chinese New Year by the Chinese, Deepavali by the Hindus, and Christmas by the Christians. Although Islam is the official religion of the country, the people of Malaysia enjoy religious freedom. Christianity, Buddhism and Hinduism are widely practiced here. The festivals are colorful and they seem to be having one going on at any time of the year. This is again a result of a multi-cultural character. Their uniqueness is their diversity of culture and this is continuously growing closer as each of the cultures plays a great influence on the other.

The hospitality of Malaysians is often seen during a festive season, especially when there is an open-house party. For instance, an open-house party during Chinese New Year, people from all walks of life although some of them are not that well acquainted with the host, are still welcomed with open arms and are entertained with a friendly and generous reception. The guests will be served a variety of delicious mouth-watering cookies and other dishes selected for their auspicious names, like "fatt choy" as it sounds like growing prosperity. The hosts will then give out red packets which are called "let si" or good luck gifts in China to the guests. The "ang pows" are traditionally given by married couples to the young and unmarried. As a token of appreciation, in return of the host's hospitality, it is also a tradition for visitors to bring Mandarin oranges or "kum" when visiting on the festive day. The same thing goes during the Hari Raya Puasa festival. Open houses are visited by not only the Malays but also the Chinese and Indians. There will be flocks of people of all races during the open house made by the Muslim prime ministers and other cabinet members. It has become a country's tradition for the leaders. Authentic dishes such as sate, rendangs of all types, ketupat and lemang are among those that are served.

It is also astounding that even in this materialistic society, where everybody seems obsessed with making money and succeeding at the expense of everything else, the people of Malaysia are still supportive of each other where a deep sense of warmth and togetherness prevail. Although they are different, the ability to understand and accept each other has brought them to where they are today. Because of this, we enjoy a wide array of world class plays in English - such as Phantom of the Opera, traditional Indian dances, Malay programs and Chinese opera. What could once only be seen in four different countries is available in a single city itself.

Although different societies evolved differently, the people are fully aware of each other's customs and traditions. For instance, when a Chinese is invited to a Malay home for dinner, he or she will follow their customs such as eating with hands or sitting down on the floor. The same applies with the Malays or Indians when they visit a Chinese home. If the host uses chopsticks to eat, the guest will follow suit without any reserves. Thus, they are not only gradually becoming closer and closer to each other's cultures but they are also learning to appreciate the beauty in each other. In Malaysia, you may well see a Chinese legend interpreted into an Indian dance, and Indian legend interpreted in Chinese or even the "wayang kulit", a Malay traditional entertainment performed by the Chinese using traditional instruments like "erhu", "yang qin"(guitar) or "gu-zheng"(harp).

Among the audience, too, you will find a mixture of cultures. Many of them may not understand the language of the performance but they are appreciative nevertheless. Even the VIPs invited to grace the occasions are reflective of the unique Malaysian culture who can be of any race. Yet again, Malaysians enjoy a close rapport with each other and are always a delight to the tourists.

What is distinguishing about Malaysia is that so many diverse cultures can co-exist in peace and harmony. Even though there are attempts to arise sensitive values among the people, it seems that those attempts never actually experience any success. The people still seem to appreciate the unity and thrive not to jeopardize it. Mixed marriages are a normal thing in Malaysia, and it is nothing unusual to find your neighbors made up from all kinds of races. Therefore, the Malaysian home is truly a veritable melting pot. They are proud of this and this is what makes them distinctive, and special.

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Originally, the Chinese would discard the rice when eating the fish. The Japanese traditionally ate their fish with rice, and so when the method reached Japan, the rice was included in the meal.

Around this time, the Japanese also introduced the use of rice wine vinegar when preparing the rice, and the combination of vegetables and preserved food stuffs with the fish.

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For centuries, sushi slowly took form, combining art and flavor.

During the early 19th century, Tokyo (Then known as Edo) was dominated by mobile food stalls. Many of these stalls worked in the region of the Edo bay, and this is where the fresh fish and seaweed was obtained for using in sushi.

In 1923, an earthquake destroyed a large part of the bay area, and the sushi chefs were dispersed throughout Japan, spreading their knowledge and skills throughout the region.

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Sushi made a comeback in the 1980s, when many people were seeking a healthy, delicious meal. As a result, sushi bars became more popular throughout Europe and the US and has gained fame for being a health-conscious, delicious and attractive meal.

Although the dishes on offer today often have the same names as their ancestors, they are in fact very different. Before the advent of refrigeration, fish would be salted or marinated in soya sauce in order to preserve it. This meant that the sushi would not be dipped into soya sauce after preparation.

Modern sushi boasts small, bite-sized portions, half the size of ancient sushi.

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Wasabi, the spicy green paste that is often served with sushi, is made from “Japanese Horseradish”. Modern restaurants often serve a wasabi paste, made from dried and powdered wasabi, but in the past, wasabi would be served fresh.

Sushi has transformed drastically during its existence into the delicate, delicious meal that we know today. Each piece is carefully created to emphasize the combination of fresh flavors and contrasting colors.

That is why it should be no surprise for the Chinese to come across as being earnest about not having let the seven year old singer appear instead of the none year old who was revealed as having just mouthed the opening music. I cannot understand why the younger girl did not appear but according to certain Chinese officials she did not represent what the Chinese image was supposed to be. What kind of nonsense is this? After all she may not have been as animated as the older one but she is a child just the same and there is no reason why she could not have appeared. Looks like China is either rationalizing why they are being false or they are catching on to an occidental phenomena of presenting a polished image of a singing girl rather than showing the real stuff. Either way the old Chinese mentality of not declaring their real intentions at the beginning of an event has to change, it shows them as being false.

The same message should be related to the polished image of fireworks, which was adjusted digitally because they would not have been identified through pictures of a smoky Beijing atmosphere. Everybody knows that China's main city has gray horizons so why not do something and cut down on the smog instead of dolling up Olympic pictures. China may have made a great change in pushing the envelope further as far as certain Olympic events are concerned but it has to be more honest regarding the image it projects.

This is the world's largest public square but is dotted with political offices instead of any pretty flowers or plants. This area serves as the final resting place for the communist chairman Mao Zedong. This square is famous for the 1989 pro-democracy demonstrations in China which ended in bloody civilian deaths at the arms of Chinese soldiers. In many regards, this is the center of Chinese political power and the birthplace of communist China. The long name for the square is Tian'an Men Guangchang or the Square of the Gate of Heavenly Peace. In this area, you can visit the numueros government offices, monuments and the Chinese National Museum.

The Forbidden City

The city of the emperors once reserved for only members of the imperial court now is open to visitors from near and far abroad - the largest and greatest of palaces complexes from the “old” China. Over 24 emperors issued their edicts from the halls of this grand monument for over 500 years and still serve as the symbolic center of the universe for the children of Han (China). The palace has since been converted to a “Palace Museum” and opened to the public since 1949. Another many things to see is the Imperial Garden and the hall of Supreme Harmony (the throne room). This collection of buildings takes all of its visitors back to ancient china and even see places where historic moments were made.

The Great Wall of China

Within 40 miles from Beijing, the Great Wall of China is the most famous and visible of China's cultural and ancient history. The wall was created by numerous rulers after the unification of China into one empire by Qin Shi Huangdi in 221 BC. Most hotels in the region offer tourists the visit to the Great Walls and to the Ming Tombs that house the dead emperors of China's forgotten era. You can visit the four sites that have been preserved from the damage that have occurred to the walls and check out the Great Wall Museum which shows the history of the area from the Neolithic time period. Overall, this trip is an adventurers and a archeologists wet dream.

The Lama Temple

One of Beijing's most attractice places of worship is the Buddhist Lama Temple. It is made up of five different sections or halls, where each section or hall is taller than the pervious. Thus walking through the temple represents walking from earth into the heavens. The temple was originally the home of Yongzheng who became the Qing Emperor in 1722. There are many sites to visit including the Hall of the Wheel of Dharma, which shows the statue of Tsongkhapa who is the founder of Yellow Hat Sect of Buddhism led by the Dalai Lama and Panchen Lama of Tibet. The temple has gone through extreme persecution at the hands of the Chinese authorities but slowly it is coming back. Now over 70 monks serve in the temple which was built to house over 1500 monks.

Hou Hai

The area is the cental hub for the city life in Beijing and the shopping center. Hou Hai has traditionally been the home to nobles and the wealthy in aristocratic China and most of the houses here offer a glimpse back in time. Many of the lakside restaurants, bars and vafes offer attratice views and waterfront terraces for visitors. There are many activities to do including Boating, Skating, and a cheap Rickshaw tour of the entire city. During the day time, it is perfect to visit the area to shop, visit the historic landmarks and homes. But at night, it is a romantic sight to behold. Candles are lit and floated into the waters while you enjoy your romantic dinner at the waterfront glimmering in the night's beauty. Hou Hai really captures the essence of modern China trapped within its past.

The Golden Rooster Awards are the most prestigious film awards in China.

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The name of the awards comes from the Year of The Rooster 1981 which was when they first started. .The awards are given by a panel of film makers, film experts and others and the trophies are golden statues of roosters. The knot was the most successful film overall in these awards.

• Best Picture Award 2007: The Knot directed by Yin Li

  This is the story of two young lovers who are torn apart by circumstances and it is told sixty years in flashback. It is in Mandarin Chinese with English subtitles and runs for 113 minutes.

• Best Director: Yin Li for The Knot

  Other nominees were Jacob Cheung for A Battle of Wits and Gao Qun Shu for The Tokyo Trial.

• Best Digital Video: The Contract (China Version)

  This is the story of a young man whose terminally ill father wants to see him married before he dies. It is in Mandarin with simplified Chinese and English subtitles.

• Best Screenplay: The Tokyo Trial

  A cop versus criminal thriller directed by Gao Qun Shu who is famous for this genre of film. In Mandarin Chinese with English subtitles.

• Best Actor: Alloys Chen for The Knot

• Best Actress: Karina Lau for Curiosity Killed The Cat

  Mrs Zheng seems to know nothing about her rich husband's affair. He curiosity and intuition leads her to suspect him and the story goes from there. In mandarin with subtitles in English.

• Best Music: The Knot

  (The Long March was nominated.)

• Best Art Direction: A Battle of Wits, Li Zhen Zhou

  A story of battle. Not the usual Kung Fu fighting kind of thing but a more subtle war film. With English subtitles.