9/13/10 In Taiwan? This could only happen to me.

I returned to the house precisely at 4:00 (early dinner?) and was greeted very warmly. Judging by their faces I don’t think my hosts expected that I would find my way back. Some new people had shown up as well. Almost immediately a glass of mijo was placed in my hand.

“Swo i?” (as much as you like?) I asked. “No” came their reply.

“Gambei?” (Bottoms up?) I asked using the only other option known to me.

“GAMBEI!”

They were completely impressed with my rudimentary Chinese, which predictably, was centered on alcohol.

Proof that I'm not the only one with a hate for mijo

After 2 glasses of the dreaded mijo (I hate the stuff) I was given a bowl of soup that was made with the pig that had been slaughtered. From what I could see and taste it was pig skin and organs such as kidney, liver and intestines. It was simple and delicious and I had soon gotten very full from my second bowl. I was ignored when I tried to refuse a third serving. Damn! I was going to piss my pants on the ride home.

One of the ladies became excited, ran inside, and returned with a stack of papers. Although I suspect the writing was in an Eastern European language, I could instantly recognize the format of the pamphlet. And then the question came. “You Jehovah?” Yes, they had tried to give me an Eastern European Watchtower. Rather than try to explain that I had long ago abandoned religion in favour of common sense, I told them I was Catholic… in an immediate occurrence of the butterfly effect, half a world away both my parents smiled at exactly the same moment in their sleep. But since they were sleeping, they don’t remember.

My new friends resigned themselves to the fact that the language barrier provided a insurmountable obstacle to fulfilling their evangelical duty with me. They gave me an English pamphlet entitled “Is your life ruled by fate?” and that was the last mention of religion.

In Texas what came next might be described as “and then the guns came out”, but in Taiwan, a largely peaceful country, we’ll substitute it with “and then the dancing started.” One of the men started singing while the others clapped. A second man was the designated dancer. Iris later described it as an aboriginal dance but she didn’t know what it meant. Then they motioned to me, the expectation was clear; it was my turn to sing. And so it was, amongst a group of friendly generous Taiwanese Jehovah’s Witnesses that I sang Elvis Presley’s “That’s Alright”. Language barriers and KTV be damned, this was one of the weirdest yet most soothing experiences. This is what travel is all about.

Taiwanese aboriginal dancing - video

Group photo - note the ladies holding their copies of The Watchtower
Despite my modest height, I felt like a giant in this group.

I assume the more humble "goalkeepers pose"

With a wave goodbye and a twist of my wrist the Irony Horse was once again in motion. Everyone had come out into the street to see me off.

When I told Space about my day later on he was amazed. “I don’t think you realize what you have done. Those families will be talking about your visit for years. So will I Space…so will I.

My Hosts