Christmas in Taiwan, Part II

So maybe Christmas isn’t in the ornaments or carols, or the snow or Santas or gifts, or even in the Mele Kalikimaka. Maybe it’s not so hard after all to bring a little Yuletide spirit to this subtropical island.

Christmas didn’t stroll into our living room along with the tree; it was the act of getting the tree that did it. We bought the tree together, we decorated it, and together, we all drank and made merry. That, in the end, was what saved the day.

Yes, those are tea bags. (Rightmost photo taken by roommate Kozak.)

A modern take on toilets

Never mind the occasional squatter toilet (even Taipei 101 has them) and toilets that barf up any paper you flush down. It hasn’t all gone to pot till you actually eat on the porcelain throne.

And that’s Modern Toilet’s claim to fame. Customers are seated on toilet bowls, with tables made of bathtubs topped by a glass surface. Meals and desserts are served in miniature toilets, of both the Western and squatter variety.

Sticking points when eating somewhere that’s as much restroom as restaurant: if, at some point, you become sickened at the sight of melting chocolate ice cream slushing around in your bowl, can you, in fact, grab your toilet bowl and hurl away to your heart’s content? Is it silly to wonder what goes on behind Modern Toilet’s kitchen doors? And in place of toilet bowls in their restrooms, are there maybe cereal bowls?

The website itself ruminates, “Is this food or shit?” Weighty thoughts to ponder … while on the john.

But we’re thinking too much. The restaurant’s gimmick is straightforward, and its philosophy simple. When in doubt, heed their word: go pee-pee or go poo-poo.

Hanukkah in Taiwan, or goyim’s luck

Christmas here may or may not be a bust this year, but Hanukkah managed just fine, at least in one apartment last night. The CIA’s World Factbook doesn’t say how many Jews there are in Taiwan, so they must reside somewhere among the 2.5 percent that practice “other” religions. (Christians are listed at 4.5 percent.)

An old Taipei Times story details Judaism in Taiwan – it talks about both the country’s “one and only” rabbi and the “one and only” synagogue – which is maintained largely by foreigners (maybe 100, give or take).

But last night’s Hanukkah celebration was more ad hoc, more personal. A small-ish group about half-foreigner and half-Taiwanese got together to eat latkes, spin the dreidel for gifts, and make worldly wishes before together lighting the menorah.

Among the wishes: a prosperous new year for all, an end to the rain, and mine, a future for China’s white dolphin (for whom hope has apparently run out). Serendipity was on my side later in the evening: I won a gift for every spin of the dreidel, for a total of four goodies.

“Goyim’s luck,” hostess Julia said.

Christmas in Taiwan

A week from Christmas Day in Taiwan, and expats are groping in the dark for a certain feeling that at home would normally come without a second thought.

The Polish community here is holding its annual Christmas get-together. And Costco, the unofficial bastion of Western civilization, proffers turkeys and man-sized poinsettias.

It’s true, many stores, restaurants, and cafes are decorated with cotton snow, and  saccharine jingles are in no short supply, but something might be missing on Dec. 25 in Taiwan, and it may just be the spirit of Christmas.

Or maybe it’s the fact that, aside from the odd yellowed tree, everything around us is still green. Or maybe we’re missing “It’s a Wonderful Life” and some Charlie Brown special. Or the fact that the Americans here missed out on the Thanksgiving lead-up to Christmas. Or is it smaller, off-putting things like Santa Claus bus drivers that wear reindeer antlers, and terribly unironic mall decorations featuring twin Santas standing side by side? (Isn’t there an unspoken rule against ruining the fantasy of the one and only Santa?)

I almost want to blame it on the lack of snow, but even in Los Angeles, Christmas would have shown its face by now.

And yet, Christmas lives. We have ragtag parties and poinsettias. We have secret Santas. While we drink milk tea and Apple Sidra, we wax nostalgic about eggnog and dream of apple cider. It’s no winter wonderland, but it’s Christmas … in Taiwan.

Black and white

It’s well known among English teachers in Asia that white teachers are often preferred to teachers of other races, even if English isn’t their native language. Discrimination occurs rather matter-of-factly: “You can find someone to sub for your class, as long as he’s a white male.”

My roommate tells a story about a Jamaican friend of his who was being interviewed by phone for a teaching position. Toward the end of the interview, he said – for full disclosure, naturally – “By the way, I’m black.”

The interviewer’s response: “… How black?”

But if black foreigners get short shrift in Taiwan, they seem to enjoy popularity in the toothpaste aisle. In my anecdotal observations, a brand of toothpaste called heiren (“black people”) is at least marginally more popular than what I assume is its perceived competition, the bairen (“white people”) toothpaste. Their official English names are Darlie, formerly Darkie, and Whitemen.

Darlie has a pleasant taste, but just to be fair (two of my roommates already use Darlie), I brush with Whitemen. Arbitrary, really.