By Michael Patrick Okeefe
One of the stranger experiences I had while in Taiwan occurred on the national holiday known as “Tomb Sweeping Day”. Tomb Sweeping Day fell on April, 5, 2008, a Saturday. However, the entire country shut down on April 4, 2008, as the holiday holds tremendous cultural significance for the Taiwanese.
On Tomb Sweeping Day, children and relatives visit the graves of their ancestors to pay homage and respect to the dead. They clean and landscape their deceased relative’s tomb, crypt, or interment facility (in the case of cremation), and then offer food, tea, wine, and other libations to their ancestors. After the food and drink offerings, the participants burn ritual currency so that the departed will have money to spend in the afterlife.
The Tomb Sweeping Day ceremony arises out of the Chinese cultural traditions of filial piety and ancestor worship. In Taiwan, the vast majority of the population, well in excess of 90%, believe in and practice the rite of ancestor worship, regardless of their religious affiliation or background. In essence, the Taiwanese believe their departed ancestors live in a “heaven”, and that the departed are available to provide advice, assistance, direction, and guidance to the living, provided the living properly attend to their ancestors with the requisite offerings of food, wine, etc. Interestingly, many Taiwanese also believe that evil ghosts wander the cemeteries on Tomb Sweeping Day because those spirits were not given a proper burial.
We set out at approximately 9:30 a.m. Our destination was the grave of May’s father, located at a cemetery on top of one of the mountains that surround Hualien. May’s long time family friend, Tracy, drove us in her well worn, mid ‘80s, Dodge sedan. May’s unofficial step-sister, Faith, accompanied us on the trip. Fortunately, we left early enough to avoid the major portion of the traffic and find a parking spot close to Mr. Yeng’s grave.
We proceeded to the grave and May, Tracy, and Faith began to clean up around Mr. Yeng’s crypt. A typical Taiwanese grave or crypt consists of a lined cement container with a tile covering, complimented with a small alter at its front. The ladies politely chatted with each other in Chinese as they attended to their task with gentle enthusiasm. May swept the top of Mr. Yeng’s crypt and surrounding walkways, while Tracy and Faith removed the crab grass and weeds that surrounded the grave. I stared on in fascination from the front of the grave, content to not “get in the way”.
Suddenly, I felt a presence beside me and detected the strong odor of rancid sweat mixed with alcohol. I looked to my left and became aware of a shabbily dressed aborigine, standing distressingly close to me, perhaps only 3 to 4 inches from my side. I am generally pretty aware of my surroundings, and I did not recall anyone else in the vicinity of Mr. Yeng’s grave. It seemed as the aborigine had simply appeared out of thin air, much like an apparition. My immediate instinct was to push him away, but he appeared drunk, and I didn’t want to create a disturbance. I forced myself to remain calm. The aborigine was perhaps 5’6” tall, while I stand 6’1 ½”. He peered up at me with dark, glossy, eyes.
“Wi shi Meiguoren?” (Are you American?), he asked.
Although I can understand a little Mandarin, the aborigine spoke too fast for me. I stared vacantly, waiting for my tai-tai to assist me with the translation. However, May took a few more steps away me, while Tracy and Faith followed suit. The ladies remained silent while an uncomfortable stillness filled the air.
“Ni shua zhong wen ma?” (Do you speak Chinese?), he inquired.
Again, I did not understand completely, but I gathered that he was asking me if I spoke Chinese.
“Wo de zhong wen shua bu ho” (My Chinese is very bad), I replied.
“I speak English”, was his immediate retort. He looked up at me and smiled, revealing a mouth filled with yellow, rotten teeth. His breath was fouler than his body odor.
“I was taught my English at the Church, by the missionaries.” Although his accent was thick and difficult, I could make out what he was saying. I nodded my head.
“How long have you been in Taiwan?” “About 9 to 10 weeks”, I said.
“How do you like Taiwan?”
“I like it,” I said. I was uncomfortable with the aborigine’s continued presence and his odor. He appeared very drunk, and was swaying on his feet. I limited my conversation in hopes that he might go away.
He stood silently for a few minutes, swaying on his feet, glancing at the ladies, glancing at me, and smiling at me with his gap toothed, yellowed, grin.
“I tend to all of this,” he said, gesturing at the graves, the cemetery, and the surrounding mountains. Aah, a grave digger and cemetery worker, I thought.
“I am from Taiwan – my family is come from Taiwan,” he said. “You American – you no Taiwan.” “You no belong Taiwan. You go back.” As he spoke, I noticed that May, Tracy, and Faith had returned to their tomb cleaning duties, but pleasant chatter no longer filled the air. They looked at me with distressed faces. They seemed anxious for me to terminate my conversation with the grave digger so he would go away.
“Who you here to visit for?” I did not understand. “Who you here to visit for?”, he repeated. Again, I did not understand, but May spoke up – “He’s asking you who you are visiting,” she said.
“Oh,” I said. “I am here with my tai-tai so she can pay her respects to her father.” I pointed at Mr. Yeng’s grave.
The grave digger then spoke to Tracy in Mandarin and asked if I was her husband. Tracy laughed uncomfortably and pointed at May. May spoke to the grave digger in Mandarin, and told him that we were married, and that I was her husband.
As May spoke to the grave digger, Tracy pulled a sharp, curved, aboriginal knife from a leather sheath and began using it like a scythe to cut crab grass and other weeds from the area surrounding Mr. Yeng’s grave. The aborigine grew excited, and suddenly reached and slid his hand across my neck, as if he was cutting my throat. I was very alarmed and tried to back away. He held on to me with a surprisingly strong grip for such a small person. The conversation was now entirely in Mandarin, and I did not understand a word of it. Later, I learned that the grave digger told the ladies that Tracy’s knife was very dangerous, and that she could hurt herself or others, including me. Also, our visitor seemed very concerned with how Tracy had acquired the aboriginal knife. He told the ladies that Tracy should not have the knife – that it was not proper for her to carry it. Tracy kept repeating that it was not important, that the knife was not an original Taiwanese knife, and that she had bought it in China.
Finally, the grave digger appeared satisfied with Tracy’s explanation and let go of my arm. He then asked in English if he could assist with cleaning Mr. Yeng’s grave. We declined, and the aborigine began to walk away, as if he was going to leave. Before he left, though, he turned back to me and once again slid his hand across my neck, repeating his “throat cutting” gesture. He was incredibly quick, and if I could have stopped his hand, I would have. Instead, I stood quietly, thankful that our visitor had not made his “point” with a real knife. He spoke to the ladies again and repeated his warnings about Tracy’s aboriginal knife.
The grave digger finally walked away from me. “What the fuck?” I looked in amazement at May, Tracy, and Faith. I turned to look for the aborigine, but he was no longer in sight. “What the fuck was that?”, I asked again. Tracy looked at me and spoke in English – “It is not important.” She suggested that we should complete our duties and leave. The ladies finished up, made their offerings to Mr. Yeng, and we quickly walked back to Tracy’s Dodge.
The sun was out that day, and we were all thirsty and tired. I had a bit of a sunburn, and I asked Tracy to stop at a convenience store for some water and refreshments. Tracy volunteered to go in with me. As we walked in, Tracy asked me if I wanted a “pijo”, or beer. I thought Tracy’s request was rather curious, as she was a practicing Buddhist, and as far as I knew, did not drink. I declined, and grabbed some water and soft drinks. Tracy joined me in line, carrying two cans of beer. She opened a can and began to take a long, slow, gulp. As Tracy drank her beer, I noticed that she looked rather pale – almost as if she had seen a ghost.
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Friday, July 25, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Taiwan Recycling
By Michael Patrick Okeefe
My four months in Taiwan confirmed a fact well known to all “Meiguoren” (Americans) – the U.S. is an indulgent and wasteful society. One example is in the area of recycling. In Taiwan, they recycle THE WHOLE LOT -- paper, plastic, metal, cardboard, aluminum cans, construction materials, wood, etc. – everything except food waste, hazardous materials, and materials that contained human or animal waste. In fact, in Hualien, you can recycle left over food and cooking scraps – these materials are collected by the city and sold to local pig farmers to incorporate into pig feed. Furthermore, the Taiwanese government makes it easy and convenient to recycle. A recycling truck picks up materials twice a week in every neighborhood throughout Taiwan.
The Taiwanese utilize their recycled products in many ingenious ways. For example, the Tzu Chi Foundation, a large, Buddhist, non-governmental organization headquartered in Hualien, uses plastic bottles to make large blankets that are distributed to impoverished areas throughout the world. These blankets feel soft and comfortable, like cotton, but are far more durable.
Since my return to the U.S., I have felt guilty every time I place a recyclable item in the trash. My tai-tai and I moved to Austin, which is supposedly one of the most “earth friendly” cities in Texas. I have been disappointed by the lack of convenient and accessible locations to deposit recyclable materials. I am concerned about our ever increasing use of valuable earth as land fills, and the environmental cost of our wasteful lifestyle. Also, as the prices of consumer items, food, and energy skyrockets, I think of the missed opportunities we have to utilize our recycled materials and decrease our living costs. We should change our societal mindset and look upon our waste materials as a resource. If the Taiwanese can establish an effective and efficient recycling program, surely we can do it here.
My four months in Taiwan confirmed a fact well known to all “Meiguoren” (Americans) – the U.S. is an indulgent and wasteful society. One example is in the area of recycling. In Taiwan, they recycle THE WHOLE LOT -- paper, plastic, metal, cardboard, aluminum cans, construction materials, wood, etc. – everything except food waste, hazardous materials, and materials that contained human or animal waste. In fact, in Hualien, you can recycle left over food and cooking scraps – these materials are collected by the city and sold to local pig farmers to incorporate into pig feed. Furthermore, the Taiwanese government makes it easy and convenient to recycle. A recycling truck picks up materials twice a week in every neighborhood throughout Taiwan.
The Taiwanese utilize their recycled products in many ingenious ways. For example, the Tzu Chi Foundation, a large, Buddhist, non-governmental organization headquartered in Hualien, uses plastic bottles to make large blankets that are distributed to impoverished areas throughout the world. These blankets feel soft and comfortable, like cotton, but are far more durable.
Since my return to the U.S., I have felt guilty every time I place a recyclable item in the trash. My tai-tai and I moved to Austin, which is supposedly one of the most “earth friendly” cities in Texas. I have been disappointed by the lack of convenient and accessible locations to deposit recyclable materials. I am concerned about our ever increasing use of valuable earth as land fills, and the environmental cost of our wasteful lifestyle. Also, as the prices of consumer items, food, and energy skyrockets, I think of the missed opportunities we have to utilize our recycled materials and decrease our living costs. We should change our societal mindset and look upon our waste materials as a resource. If the Taiwanese can establish an effective and efficient recycling program, surely we can do it here.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Bring Pepto!
By Michael Patrick Okeefe
For those “Meiguoren” (Americans) that find themselves on the Pacific shores of Hualien, Taiwan, I say: “Bring Pepto!” The Chinese say that when one moves to a new place, the bowels have to adjust to the “water and dirt”. How true!
Although neither my tai-tai nor I suffered EXTREME gastrointestinal distress or food poisoning during out stay in Taiwan, we suffered, off and on, with various stomach upsets and bouts of, well, let’s say, less pleasant ailments. I suppose we were adjusting to the water and the dirt. We ran out of Pepto after about two months in Hualien, and I missed it! (You can’t find Pepto in Hualien.) The conspicuous absence of Pepto in Taiwan, is, I think, positively UN-AMERICAN, and the product a vast left/ right wing conspiracy.
The closest Pepto substitute we could find in Hualien was a green stomach pill from Japan, which served as a poor substitute. Prior to depletion of our Pepto stock, I used to pop a couple of tablets before eating out as a gastro-intestinal precautionary measure. Once we ran out, I found that I suffered more frequent, and more severe, bouts of “water and dirt adjustment”.
I asked a couple of friends back in the U.S. to mail me some Pepto, but the packages did not make it through customs. I guess the Taiwanese authorities have some serious misgivings about the efficacy or safety of one of America’s favorite stomach remedies. Or perhaps the Taiwanese have a cultural affinity to gastro-intestinal masochism, and consider “water and dirt adjustment” a fact of life we all must suffer through. Just now, I parted with a loud “fan pi” (fart), which is probably an appropriate place to end this article.
For those “Meiguoren” (Americans) that find themselves on the Pacific shores of Hualien, Taiwan, I say: “Bring Pepto!” The Chinese say that when one moves to a new place, the bowels have to adjust to the “water and dirt”. How true!
Although neither my tai-tai nor I suffered EXTREME gastrointestinal distress or food poisoning during out stay in Taiwan, we suffered, off and on, with various stomach upsets and bouts of, well, let’s say, less pleasant ailments. I suppose we were adjusting to the water and the dirt. We ran out of Pepto after about two months in Hualien, and I missed it! (You can’t find Pepto in Hualien.) The conspicuous absence of Pepto in Taiwan, is, I think, positively UN-AMERICAN, and the product a vast left/ right wing conspiracy.
The closest Pepto substitute we could find in Hualien was a green stomach pill from Japan, which served as a poor substitute. Prior to depletion of our Pepto stock, I used to pop a couple of tablets before eating out as a gastro-intestinal precautionary measure. Once we ran out, I found that I suffered more frequent, and more severe, bouts of “water and dirt adjustment”.
I asked a couple of friends back in the U.S. to mail me some Pepto, but the packages did not make it through customs. I guess the Taiwanese authorities have some serious misgivings about the efficacy or safety of one of America’s favorite stomach remedies. Or perhaps the Taiwanese have a cultural affinity to gastro-intestinal masochism, and consider “water and dirt adjustment” a fact of life we all must suffer through. Just now, I parted with a loud “fan pi” (fart), which is probably an appropriate place to end this article.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Stinky Taiwan -- Reflections on Taiwanese Living
By Michael Patrick Okeefe
Those readers who have previously perused this blog know that I moved to Hualien, Taiwan with my tai-tai in January 2008 so she could care for her elderly mother. My initial impression was that Taiwan was “quite livable” and that I could easily spend a year or two there as we had originally planned. However, by mid-April, the heat, humidity, language barrier, and xiao hei chong (“little black bugs”) were all sending me the message that I should get my ass back to Texas!
I enjoyed many aspects of living in Hualien. The city is safe and I was only a few blocks away from a nice path that ran parallel to the Hualien harbor and the Pacific Ocean. Also, we were only a 15 to 20 minute walk from downtown Hualien and I learned to navigate my way around the city quite well. Everything we needed was within walking distance, and, at least initially, we did not need a car. However, when the temperature started increasing, the absence of a car became a noticeable impediment to a comfortable lifestyle.
Unless you are a big fan of humidity and rain, the Taiwanese climate is, quite simply, “bu ho” (pronounced “boo how”, meaning “no good”). It rains a lot in Taiwan – almost daily. December through March is the cold season. The temperature ranges from 40 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit, and the moist air chills you to the bone. The Taiwan “winter” climate reminded me a lot of the San Francisco “winter” climate. From April through September, the climate ranges from warm to insufferably hot. During October and November, the climate is more temperate, with an occasional warm or hot day. If you visit Taiwan, the best times to go are October, November, or March.
Compared to many Asian countries, the Taiwanese enjoy a fairly good standard of living. Almost everyone can afford their own flat, car, and scooter. Many homes are lavishly furnished with beautiful hardwood floors and custom made furniture. The Taiwanese enjoy shopping and eating out. Downtown Hualien was always bustling with crowds of people. I really enjoyed walking around downtown Hualien at night, grabbing a bit of local fare, and mingling with the crowds of people. Almost without exception, the Taiwanese are very friendly and welcoming to foreigners.
The cost of living in Taiwan is generally less expensive than the U.S., and the American expat can stretch his or her ever shrinking dollar a long way. Food at the traditional markets is locally harvested, raised, or grown, and rather cheap. Additionally, it is fairly easy for a native English speaker with a college degree to find a job teaching English in Taiwan. The going rate is between NT500 to NT550 an hour – about $16.67 to $18.34.
Although Taiwan possesses many places of natural beauty, the cities themselves generally appear dirty and dingy. Dust and rain will make a new building appear old in a short period of time. The city streets are asphalt with shallow sewers to collect water and other run off. As such, the sewers offer a welcome home for roaches and other vermin. As the temperature rises, many unpleasant odors waft up from the sewer grates. Moreover, the Taiwanese take pleasure in a dish known as “stinky tofu”, which is sold at many of the local cafes and tea houses. It is difficult to describe the odor of stinky tofu, but “warmed over rotten puke” comes close. A walk around town or the neighborhood can turn into an interesting olfactory experience. My tai-tai often referred to her homeland as “stinky Taiwan”.
"Stinky Taiwan” is not limited to a walk around the city streets. Although the Taiwanese enjoy indoor plumbing, the sewer drainage systems do not operate as efficiently as the indoor plumbing systems in the U.S. Our toilets and bathrooms persistently had a “sewer gas” odor, regardless of the number of times we cleaned these areas, which we did quite often! Fortunately, Taiwanese stores carry Oust and Lysol, which we used very often in great quantities.
Also, although most of the buildings and flats contain air conditioning, the Taiwanese appear reluctant to use it. In April and May, my tai-tai and I appeared to be the only ones in our building that ran our AC (window units) – which we did almost constantly. One could say that during spring and summer “stinky Taiwan” is inhabited with sweaty (and stinky) Taiwanese.
Overall, although my initial impressions of Taiwan were favorable, after living there for approximately four months, my perception changed from “quite livable” to “tolerable”. If someone paid me a lot of money, provided a fully furnished luxury apartment in Taipei, offered me unrestricted access to a driver and limousine, and gave me an unlimited expense account, I would consider a return to Taiwan. Other than that, it is “zai jian” forever to Formosa (“the beautiful land”).
Those readers who have previously perused this blog know that I moved to Hualien, Taiwan with my tai-tai in January 2008 so she could care for her elderly mother. My initial impression was that Taiwan was “quite livable” and that I could easily spend a year or two there as we had originally planned. However, by mid-April, the heat, humidity, language barrier, and xiao hei chong (“little black bugs”) were all sending me the message that I should get my ass back to Texas!
I enjoyed many aspects of living in Hualien. The city is safe and I was only a few blocks away from a nice path that ran parallel to the Hualien harbor and the Pacific Ocean. Also, we were only a 15 to 20 minute walk from downtown Hualien and I learned to navigate my way around the city quite well. Everything we needed was within walking distance, and, at least initially, we did not need a car. However, when the temperature started increasing, the absence of a car became a noticeable impediment to a comfortable lifestyle.
Unless you are a big fan of humidity and rain, the Taiwanese climate is, quite simply, “bu ho” (pronounced “boo how”, meaning “no good”). It rains a lot in Taiwan – almost daily. December through March is the cold season. The temperature ranges from 40 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit, and the moist air chills you to the bone. The Taiwan “winter” climate reminded me a lot of the San Francisco “winter” climate. From April through September, the climate ranges from warm to insufferably hot. During October and November, the climate is more temperate, with an occasional warm or hot day. If you visit Taiwan, the best times to go are October, November, or March.
Compared to many Asian countries, the Taiwanese enjoy a fairly good standard of living. Almost everyone can afford their own flat, car, and scooter. Many homes are lavishly furnished with beautiful hardwood floors and custom made furniture. The Taiwanese enjoy shopping and eating out. Downtown Hualien was always bustling with crowds of people. I really enjoyed walking around downtown Hualien at night, grabbing a bit of local fare, and mingling with the crowds of people. Almost without exception, the Taiwanese are very friendly and welcoming to foreigners.
The cost of living in Taiwan is generally less expensive than the U.S., and the American expat can stretch his or her ever shrinking dollar a long way. Food at the traditional markets is locally harvested, raised, or grown, and rather cheap. Additionally, it is fairly easy for a native English speaker with a college degree to find a job teaching English in Taiwan. The going rate is between NT500 to NT550 an hour – about $16.67 to $18.34.
Although Taiwan possesses many places of natural beauty, the cities themselves generally appear dirty and dingy. Dust and rain will make a new building appear old in a short period of time. The city streets are asphalt with shallow sewers to collect water and other run off. As such, the sewers offer a welcome home for roaches and other vermin. As the temperature rises, many unpleasant odors waft up from the sewer grates. Moreover, the Taiwanese take pleasure in a dish known as “stinky tofu”, which is sold at many of the local cafes and tea houses. It is difficult to describe the odor of stinky tofu, but “warmed over rotten puke” comes close. A walk around town or the neighborhood can turn into an interesting olfactory experience. My tai-tai often referred to her homeland as “stinky Taiwan”.
"Stinky Taiwan” is not limited to a walk around the city streets. Although the Taiwanese enjoy indoor plumbing, the sewer drainage systems do not operate as efficiently as the indoor plumbing systems in the U.S. Our toilets and bathrooms persistently had a “sewer gas” odor, regardless of the number of times we cleaned these areas, which we did quite often! Fortunately, Taiwanese stores carry Oust and Lysol, which we used very often in great quantities.
Also, although most of the buildings and flats contain air conditioning, the Taiwanese appear reluctant to use it. In April and May, my tai-tai and I appeared to be the only ones in our building that ran our AC (window units) – which we did almost constantly. One could say that during spring and summer “stinky Taiwan” is inhabited with sweaty (and stinky) Taiwanese.
Overall, although my initial impressions of Taiwan were favorable, after living there for approximately four months, my perception changed from “quite livable” to “tolerable”. If someone paid me a lot of money, provided a fully furnished luxury apartment in Taipei, offered me unrestricted access to a driver and limousine, and gave me an unlimited expense account, I would consider a return to Taiwan. Other than that, it is “zai jian” forever to Formosa (“the beautiful land”).
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Fine dining in Hualien?
By Michael Patrick Okeefe
Fine dining in Hualien? I think not! If you want good food, fine dining, and an overall grand culinary experience, seek your fare in Taipei. There are many web sources that can educate you about the dining opportunities that await you there.
Once in Taipei, you absolutely have to dine at Ding Tai Feng. Ding Tai Feng serves totally mouth watering, petite, steamed pork dumplings in a modern, clean, and casual setting. Depending on the time of day and the crowds, you may have to wait 30 to 45 minutes for a table. You will be required to place your order before you sit down. I recommend ordering at least one batch of pork dumplings per person (12 per batch), a little bit of cai (pronounced “tzai”, meaning vegetable), and a man sized portion of Taiwan beer. Ding Tai Feng is extremely busy, and, as a result, the wait staff tends to quickly usher out the various patrons once they have completed their meals. However, I have found that the wait staff is more than happy to let you linger based on the amount of food you eat and booze you consume. Accordingly, I recommend consuming lots of booze and food; sit back, relax, and have a grand old time! It is probably quite obvious to the reader that I have spent many happy moments at Ding Tai Feng consuming massive quantities of food and beer. Indeed, I have!
Also, my tai-tai insists that I inform the blogging public about the wonderful bathroom facilities that await you at Ding Tai Feng. After all, if you are a typical meiguoren, after consuming massive quantities of pork dumplings and Taiwan beer, you may have to make a few trips to the bathroom. The bathroom facilities at Ding Tai Feng are pristine – the bathroom attendant cleans the toilet and sink after each use. Also, my tai-tai was quite enamored with the heated toilets – if it is a bit cold outside, the Ding Tai Feng heated toilets will allow you to take care of nature’s demands in complete comfort and total luxury.
Amazingly, the best restaurant in Hualien is the “Taiwan Coffee” shop located at Tzu Chi Hospital. As with Ding Tai Feng, the restaurant is spotless. I found that as a “meiguoren”, in a country where eating out was often an unwanted gastrointestinal adventure, that cleanliness, was, undeniably, next to godliness. The restaurant sports a modern décor with sturdy, rich, oak tables, and heavy, thick, cushioned oak chairs. The hardwood floors are cleaned and polished. Once you enter the restaurant, you no longer think you’re in a hospital. The décor reminded me of the upscale “casual dining” atmosphere typical of many popular and trendy U.S. restaurants. Once you enter the Taiwan Coffee restaurant, you will notice large crowds of doctors, hospital staff, and Tzu Chi volunteers. At breakfast and lunch, there is always and large crowd, and sometimes it is difficult to get a table. As Tzu Chi is a Buddhist hospital, Taiwan Coffee only serves vegetarian cuisine, ranging from “hot pots” filled with steaming vegetables and a light vegan broth to a vegan club sandwich. As far as beverages, the signature “Taiwan Coffee” is dark, strong, and rich. Although I’m not a “cream and sugar” type of guy, I have learned that the Taiwan coffee is best with at least two packs of sugar and an ounce of cream, accompanied by a large piece of chocolate cake. The chocolate cake at Taiwan Coffee has alternating layers of cake, mousse, and icing, yet is not “too sweet”. As a general rule, Taiwanese cake and confectionaries are not nearly as sweet as those served in the U.S.; the low amounts of sugar allow you to taste the strong flavor of the chocolate and the more subtle flavors contained in the mousse and icing. So, call me crazy, but if you’re in Hualien, definitely check out Taiwan Coffee shop at Tzu Chi Buddhist hospital.
Another Hualien restaurant worthy of note is “Zhuan Yuan Zho” ("The Best Rice Porridge”). Zhuan Yuan Zho is owned by Jay Chen, a good friend of my tai-tai. Jay is a genuine, grade-A, Taiwanese gentleman. Jay took an old building that was built during the Japanese occupation of Taiwan and converted it into his restaurant. The restaurant incorporates many of the building’s original structural elements, and has a warm, rustic, feel. As the name suggests, Jay’s premier dish is his rice porridge. I can’t begin to describe all of the many “secret” ingredients Jay incorporates into his porridge, but I know it contains tarot, ground pork, and assorted green vegetables. Also, in contrast to the food served at many of the establishments I have eaten at during my stay in Hualien, Jay’s rice porridge is actually beneficial to your stomach. The locals swear by Jay’s porridge – most will tell you that’s what they eat when they get any type of stomach illness. If you do check out Jay’s restaurant, you’ll need a local to order for you, as his staff does not speak very good English. Along with the rice porridge, order some yu jiao (tarot pastry), xia jiao (steamed, open faced, shrimp dumplings), cai, and hot tea to complete your meal.
Lua bo cake tops the list as one of my favorite Taiwanese breakfast foods. Lua bo cake is composed of shredded daikon radish and flour that is shaped into a rectangular cake. The lua bo cake is grilled, served with a sweet and hot sauce, and is best if accompanied by steamed soy milk. My favorite “lua bo cake” breakfast place is Chao Ren Qi located at the corner of Mingchuan 2nd Street and Jung Mei road. This restaurant, too, is immaculately clean. Also, my tai-tai and I recently discovered another good lua bo cake place next to the China Airlines office on Ming Li road. I only ate there once, so I didn’t get the name.
Once you have tried the Taiwan coffee shop, Jay’s restaurant, and Chao Ren Qi, there is an extreme drop off in the quality, consistency, and cleanliness of the local Hualien restaurants. If you’re in the mood for sushi, check out the “Sushi King” chain. In Hualien, Sushi King has restaurants in the Carefour department store and on Jung Jen road. Sushi King serves a variety of fresh and well prepared sushi at 30NT per pop (about $1.00 per serving). The sushi is as good as I’ve had at much more expensive restaurants, and you can fill yourself up for 120NT ($4.00). The tea is pretty good, as well, and it comes with the meal.
Another favorite (among westerners and locals) is McDonald’s. The McDonald’s restaurants in Taiwan are always packed – because of consistency, quality, price, and cleanliness (including the restrooms). As a meiguoren, I found that the food at McDonald’s seemed a lot healthier after I compared it to the offerings found at many of the local establishments. The Taiwanese seem to agree, and are thronging to McDonald’s in record numbers.
Starbucks was also one of our hangouts – it’s the only place in Hualien you can get a western style sandwich that tastes, well, like a western style sandwich! Also, the staff at Starbucks speaks competent English, and the restaurant and bathrooms are clean.
If you don’t need to use the john, and you’re in the mood for coffee and cake, try Café 85. Café 85 is Starbuck’s Taiwanese competitor, and based on the “crowd” index, appears to be kicking Starbuck’s ass. Café 85 is much cheaper than Starbucks and has a much larger selection of cakes and pastries that are more in tune with the Taiwanese palate (i.e., less sweet).
In sum, I don’t think any Hualien restaurant will be featured as one of the “world’s best” restaurants anytime soon. However, the Taiwan Coffee shop and Zhuan Yuan Zho certainly fit the definition of “quality casual dining”. If in doubt, head to Mickey D’s. You will be comforted by the familiar and consistent taste, tweaked to meet local tastes.
Fine dining in Hualien? I think not! If you want good food, fine dining, and an overall grand culinary experience, seek your fare in Taipei. There are many web sources that can educate you about the dining opportunities that await you there.
Once in Taipei, you absolutely have to dine at Ding Tai Feng. Ding Tai Feng serves totally mouth watering, petite, steamed pork dumplings in a modern, clean, and casual setting. Depending on the time of day and the crowds, you may have to wait 30 to 45 minutes for a table. You will be required to place your order before you sit down. I recommend ordering at least one batch of pork dumplings per person (12 per batch), a little bit of cai (pronounced “tzai”, meaning vegetable), and a man sized portion of Taiwan beer. Ding Tai Feng is extremely busy, and, as a result, the wait staff tends to quickly usher out the various patrons once they have completed their meals. However, I have found that the wait staff is more than happy to let you linger based on the amount of food you eat and booze you consume. Accordingly, I recommend consuming lots of booze and food; sit back, relax, and have a grand old time! It is probably quite obvious to the reader that I have spent many happy moments at Ding Tai Feng consuming massive quantities of food and beer. Indeed, I have!
Also, my tai-tai insists that I inform the blogging public about the wonderful bathroom facilities that await you at Ding Tai Feng. After all, if you are a typical meiguoren, after consuming massive quantities of pork dumplings and Taiwan beer, you may have to make a few trips to the bathroom. The bathroom facilities at Ding Tai Feng are pristine – the bathroom attendant cleans the toilet and sink after each use. Also, my tai-tai was quite enamored with the heated toilets – if it is a bit cold outside, the Ding Tai Feng heated toilets will allow you to take care of nature’s demands in complete comfort and total luxury.
Amazingly, the best restaurant in Hualien is the “Taiwan Coffee” shop located at Tzu Chi Hospital. As with Ding Tai Feng, the restaurant is spotless. I found that as a “meiguoren”, in a country where eating out was often an unwanted gastrointestinal adventure, that cleanliness, was, undeniably, next to godliness. The restaurant sports a modern décor with sturdy, rich, oak tables, and heavy, thick, cushioned oak chairs. The hardwood floors are cleaned and polished. Once you enter the restaurant, you no longer think you’re in a hospital. The décor reminded me of the upscale “casual dining” atmosphere typical of many popular and trendy U.S. restaurants. Once you enter the Taiwan Coffee restaurant, you will notice large crowds of doctors, hospital staff, and Tzu Chi volunteers. At breakfast and lunch, there is always and large crowd, and sometimes it is difficult to get a table. As Tzu Chi is a Buddhist hospital, Taiwan Coffee only serves vegetarian cuisine, ranging from “hot pots” filled with steaming vegetables and a light vegan broth to a vegan club sandwich. As far as beverages, the signature “Taiwan Coffee” is dark, strong, and rich. Although I’m not a “cream and sugar” type of guy, I have learned that the Taiwan coffee is best with at least two packs of sugar and an ounce of cream, accompanied by a large piece of chocolate cake. The chocolate cake at Taiwan Coffee has alternating layers of cake, mousse, and icing, yet is not “too sweet”. As a general rule, Taiwanese cake and confectionaries are not nearly as sweet as those served in the U.S.; the low amounts of sugar allow you to taste the strong flavor of the chocolate and the more subtle flavors contained in the mousse and icing. So, call me crazy, but if you’re in Hualien, definitely check out Taiwan Coffee shop at Tzu Chi Buddhist hospital.
Another Hualien restaurant worthy of note is “Zhuan Yuan Zho” ("The Best Rice Porridge”). Zhuan Yuan Zho is owned by Jay Chen, a good friend of my tai-tai. Jay is a genuine, grade-A, Taiwanese gentleman. Jay took an old building that was built during the Japanese occupation of Taiwan and converted it into his restaurant. The restaurant incorporates many of the building’s original structural elements, and has a warm, rustic, feel. As the name suggests, Jay’s premier dish is his rice porridge. I can’t begin to describe all of the many “secret” ingredients Jay incorporates into his porridge, but I know it contains tarot, ground pork, and assorted green vegetables. Also, in contrast to the food served at many of the establishments I have eaten at during my stay in Hualien, Jay’s rice porridge is actually beneficial to your stomach. The locals swear by Jay’s porridge – most will tell you that’s what they eat when they get any type of stomach illness. If you do check out Jay’s restaurant, you’ll need a local to order for you, as his staff does not speak very good English. Along with the rice porridge, order some yu jiao (tarot pastry), xia jiao (steamed, open faced, shrimp dumplings), cai, and hot tea to complete your meal.
Lua bo cake tops the list as one of my favorite Taiwanese breakfast foods. Lua bo cake is composed of shredded daikon radish and flour that is shaped into a rectangular cake. The lua bo cake is grilled, served with a sweet and hot sauce, and is best if accompanied by steamed soy milk. My favorite “lua bo cake” breakfast place is Chao Ren Qi located at the corner of Mingchuan 2nd Street and Jung Mei road. This restaurant, too, is immaculately clean. Also, my tai-tai and I recently discovered another good lua bo cake place next to the China Airlines office on Ming Li road. I only ate there once, so I didn’t get the name.
Once you have tried the Taiwan coffee shop, Jay’s restaurant, and Chao Ren Qi, there is an extreme drop off in the quality, consistency, and cleanliness of the local Hualien restaurants. If you’re in the mood for sushi, check out the “Sushi King” chain. In Hualien, Sushi King has restaurants in the Carefour department store and on Jung Jen road. Sushi King serves a variety of fresh and well prepared sushi at 30NT per pop (about $1.00 per serving). The sushi is as good as I’ve had at much more expensive restaurants, and you can fill yourself up for 120NT ($4.00). The tea is pretty good, as well, and it comes with the meal.
Another favorite (among westerners and locals) is McDonald’s. The McDonald’s restaurants in Taiwan are always packed – because of consistency, quality, price, and cleanliness (including the restrooms). As a meiguoren, I found that the food at McDonald’s seemed a lot healthier after I compared it to the offerings found at many of the local establishments. The Taiwanese seem to agree, and are thronging to McDonald’s in record numbers.
Starbucks was also one of our hangouts – it’s the only place in Hualien you can get a western style sandwich that tastes, well, like a western style sandwich! Also, the staff at Starbucks speaks competent English, and the restaurant and bathrooms are clean.
If you don’t need to use the john, and you’re in the mood for coffee and cake, try Café 85. Café 85 is Starbuck’s Taiwanese competitor, and based on the “crowd” index, appears to be kicking Starbuck’s ass. Café 85 is much cheaper than Starbucks and has a much larger selection of cakes and pastries that are more in tune with the Taiwanese palate (i.e., less sweet).
In sum, I don’t think any Hualien restaurant will be featured as one of the “world’s best” restaurants anytime soon. However, the Taiwan Coffee shop and Zhuan Yuan Zho certainly fit the definition of “quality casual dining”. If in doubt, head to Mickey D’s. You will be comforted by the familiar and consistent taste, tweaked to meet local tastes.
Reflections Before We Go
By Michael Patrick Okeefe
The tourist slogan for Taiwan is “Taiwan – Touch Your Heart”. As my tai-tai and I make our final preparations to leave Hualien and return to the U.S., I thought it appropriate to reflect on my experiences and contemplate whether Taiwan had, in fact, “touched my heart”.
The overnight excursion May and I took to Taroko Gorge in March 2008 was, without doubt, the highlight of the 3 months, 3 weeks, and 1 day we spent in Taiwan. Taroko is the Taiwan equivalent of the Grand Canyon – stunning, breath taking, beautiful, awe inspiring, and in the words of Gerard Manley Hopkins, filled with “ . . . the grandeur of God.”[1]
We made the trip in mid-March, which is the perfect time to visit Taiwan. The temperature was still a bit cool, and as we made our way up the gorge, the air became noticeably less humid. Our faces were refreshed by a mountain breeze as we spent the day hiking the trails and seeing the sites of Taroko. After our brief visit, May and I were quite ready to move to Taroko and “take up” with the aborigines! Interestingly, many of the aborigines have converted to Christianity – perhaps because they witness God’s grandeur on a daily basis!
Of the many trails we hiked that day, the most spectacular, and the most fun, was the Baiyang Waterfall trail. The trail wanders by a deep gorge containing a swift, blue mountain stream. As you walk the trail, you go through a number of caves, ending at the Baiyang Waterfall. At that point, you can trek through another cave, containing an extremely fast moving tributary which serves as the “source” for the waterfall. Originally, the “source” trail was built up against a cave wall, but the water has worn down its surface, so you have to take off your shoes and walk barefoot through the cold water to the end of the cave, and then walk back. If you make it to the end of the source cave, you step out onto a ledge overlooking a steep cliff. Absolutely stupendous! May and I cautiously made the slippery hike through the flowing water and got pleasantly drenched. Taroko is, absolutely and unequivocally, “worth the trip”.
I also enjoyed the numerous walks I took along the seawall fronting the Hualien harbor. Until approximately mid-April, I walked almost every day along the seawall, gazing out at the port and the deep, dark, blue waters of the Pacific. Hualien is a very safe city – I walked the seawall on countless nights, sometimes very late, without incident. For that matter, I walked everywhere in Hualien, and the worst treatment I ever received was bit of heckling from Taiwanese teenagers. As the heckling was in Mandarin, it truly was “water off a duck’s back” to me. Certainly, I will miss the safe, comfortable, feeling I experienced as I wandered around Hualien. It is unfortunate that the streets in the U.S., are, for the most part, no longer safe.
Another aspect of Taiwan that I will miss is the cake and coffee! Yes, I have mentioned Taiwanese coffee and cake elsewhere in my blog, but it is certainly worth mentioning again. Upon our arrival in Hualien, May and I made the decision to forgo a car or scooter, so we walked – a lot – during our time here. Although I didn’t lose any weight, I “trimmed up” a little and felt quite justified in indulging my passion for caffeine and sweets. Taiwanese coffee is rich and strong – best if consumed with two packs of sugar and an ounce of cream. The chocolate cake is noticeably less sweet, which, in my mind, only enhances the rich flavor. As my tai-tai says, “the Chinese know how to eat!”
Also, I couldn’t do justice to our time in Taiwan if I didn’t mention McDonald’s. McDonald’s, you ask? Yes, incredibly, it’s a lot better here! McDonald’s is extremely popular in Taiwan. There are few menu tweaks to please the Taiwanese palate – a type of corn chowder and some additional fish and chicken items. The restaurants (and restrooms) are impeccably clean, the food is fresh, and the quality is consistent. The AC is also very inviting, especially as the temperature climbs to the 30 degree celsius mark (about 90 degrees farenheit). May and I dined at Mickey D’s about twice per week during our stay. If we were downtown, and it was lunchtime, there was a good chance you could find us at the Mickster’s. I really liked the “Golden Meal”, a “triple decker” sandwich consisting of one grilled Halibut filet and one fried Halibut filet accompanied by lettuce, tomatoes, and a “special sauce”, which reminded me a little of Thousand Island dressing. Unfortunately, the big Mick quit selling the “Golden Meal” after we had been here a couple of months, stating it was only a “promotional” item. Personally, I think the meal was simply too popular and they ran out of Halibut!
Of course, I had the opportunity to meet May’s mom, which was the primary purpose of our visit. Although my communication with Mrs. Yeng was limited, she apparently liked me, telling my wife that I was “hen ho” (very good). Although I couldn’t communicate with her, and I didn’t know her for very long, my observations led me to believe that Mrs. Yeng was an independent woman determined to live life her way. In my mind, Mrs. Yeng’s fall, which led to her death, was an indication of that will – Mrs. Yeng simply did not want to be confined to a wheelchair and was determined to walk until her last days. I hope she rests peacefully knowing that she did just that.
I also met May’s biological dad. (May was adopted by the Yeng’s.) Mr. Su is 95 years old and still living independently. He is a very kind and decent gentleman. His mind is clear, he walks well, and he travels all over Taiwan. He also often travels to Canada to visit one of his daughters. I will consider myself lucky if I have Mr. Su’s independence when (and if) I reach 95.
Finally, as I look back on our trip, I think of May’s friends and the many favors they did for us. One of May’s close friends located the flat we lived in while in Hualien, and let us stay at her place a couple of days until we could move into our apartment. Once we settled in Hulien, May’s friends were constantly bestowing some type of kindness upon us -- whether giving us a ride or picking us up some rice porridge for dinner, someone, somewhere, was doing their best to make us feel welcome. As we say in Texas, “folks here like to help out”.
As I write this, I must admit that I am anxious to escape the voracious xiao hei chong (little black bugs) and the ever increasing temperature associated with Taiwan’s tropical climate. Yet, in retrospect, I must also admit that Taiwan, to be sure, has “touched my heart.”
[1] God’s Grandeur by Gerard Manley Hopkins
The tourist slogan for Taiwan is “Taiwan – Touch Your Heart”. As my tai-tai and I make our final preparations to leave Hualien and return to the U.S., I thought it appropriate to reflect on my experiences and contemplate whether Taiwan had, in fact, “touched my heart”.
The overnight excursion May and I took to Taroko Gorge in March 2008 was, without doubt, the highlight of the 3 months, 3 weeks, and 1 day we spent in Taiwan. Taroko is the Taiwan equivalent of the Grand Canyon – stunning, breath taking, beautiful, awe inspiring, and in the words of Gerard Manley Hopkins, filled with “ . . . the grandeur of God.”[1]
We made the trip in mid-March, which is the perfect time to visit Taiwan. The temperature was still a bit cool, and as we made our way up the gorge, the air became noticeably less humid. Our faces were refreshed by a mountain breeze as we spent the day hiking the trails and seeing the sites of Taroko. After our brief visit, May and I were quite ready to move to Taroko and “take up” with the aborigines! Interestingly, many of the aborigines have converted to Christianity – perhaps because they witness God’s grandeur on a daily basis!
Of the many trails we hiked that day, the most spectacular, and the most fun, was the Baiyang Waterfall trail. The trail wanders by a deep gorge containing a swift, blue mountain stream. As you walk the trail, you go through a number of caves, ending at the Baiyang Waterfall. At that point, you can trek through another cave, containing an extremely fast moving tributary which serves as the “source” for the waterfall. Originally, the “source” trail was built up against a cave wall, but the water has worn down its surface, so you have to take off your shoes and walk barefoot through the cold water to the end of the cave, and then walk back. If you make it to the end of the source cave, you step out onto a ledge overlooking a steep cliff. Absolutely stupendous! May and I cautiously made the slippery hike through the flowing water and got pleasantly drenched. Taroko is, absolutely and unequivocally, “worth the trip”.
I also enjoyed the numerous walks I took along the seawall fronting the Hualien harbor. Until approximately mid-April, I walked almost every day along the seawall, gazing out at the port and the deep, dark, blue waters of the Pacific. Hualien is a very safe city – I walked the seawall on countless nights, sometimes very late, without incident. For that matter, I walked everywhere in Hualien, and the worst treatment I ever received was bit of heckling from Taiwanese teenagers. As the heckling was in Mandarin, it truly was “water off a duck’s back” to me. Certainly, I will miss the safe, comfortable, feeling I experienced as I wandered around Hualien. It is unfortunate that the streets in the U.S., are, for the most part, no longer safe.
Another aspect of Taiwan that I will miss is the cake and coffee! Yes, I have mentioned Taiwanese coffee and cake elsewhere in my blog, but it is certainly worth mentioning again. Upon our arrival in Hualien, May and I made the decision to forgo a car or scooter, so we walked – a lot – during our time here. Although I didn’t lose any weight, I “trimmed up” a little and felt quite justified in indulging my passion for caffeine and sweets. Taiwanese coffee is rich and strong – best if consumed with two packs of sugar and an ounce of cream. The chocolate cake is noticeably less sweet, which, in my mind, only enhances the rich flavor. As my tai-tai says, “the Chinese know how to eat!”
Also, I couldn’t do justice to our time in Taiwan if I didn’t mention McDonald’s. McDonald’s, you ask? Yes, incredibly, it’s a lot better here! McDonald’s is extremely popular in Taiwan. There are few menu tweaks to please the Taiwanese palate – a type of corn chowder and some additional fish and chicken items. The restaurants (and restrooms) are impeccably clean, the food is fresh, and the quality is consistent. The AC is also very inviting, especially as the temperature climbs to the 30 degree celsius mark (about 90 degrees farenheit). May and I dined at Mickey D’s about twice per week during our stay. If we were downtown, and it was lunchtime, there was a good chance you could find us at the Mickster’s. I really liked the “Golden Meal”, a “triple decker” sandwich consisting of one grilled Halibut filet and one fried Halibut filet accompanied by lettuce, tomatoes, and a “special sauce”, which reminded me a little of Thousand Island dressing. Unfortunately, the big Mick quit selling the “Golden Meal” after we had been here a couple of months, stating it was only a “promotional” item. Personally, I think the meal was simply too popular and they ran out of Halibut!
Of course, I had the opportunity to meet May’s mom, which was the primary purpose of our visit. Although my communication with Mrs. Yeng was limited, she apparently liked me, telling my wife that I was “hen ho” (very good). Although I couldn’t communicate with her, and I didn’t know her for very long, my observations led me to believe that Mrs. Yeng was an independent woman determined to live life her way. In my mind, Mrs. Yeng’s fall, which led to her death, was an indication of that will – Mrs. Yeng simply did not want to be confined to a wheelchair and was determined to walk until her last days. I hope she rests peacefully knowing that she did just that.
I also met May’s biological dad. (May was adopted by the Yeng’s.) Mr. Su is 95 years old and still living independently. He is a very kind and decent gentleman. His mind is clear, he walks well, and he travels all over Taiwan. He also often travels to Canada to visit one of his daughters. I will consider myself lucky if I have Mr. Su’s independence when (and if) I reach 95.
Finally, as I look back on our trip, I think of May’s friends and the many favors they did for us. One of May’s close friends located the flat we lived in while in Hualien, and let us stay at her place a couple of days until we could move into our apartment. Once we settled in Hulien, May’s friends were constantly bestowing some type of kindness upon us -- whether giving us a ride or picking us up some rice porridge for dinner, someone, somewhere, was doing their best to make us feel welcome. As we say in Texas, “folks here like to help out”.
As I write this, I must admit that I am anxious to escape the voracious xiao hei chong (little black bugs) and the ever increasing temperature associated with Taiwan’s tropical climate. Yet, in retrospect, I must also admit that Taiwan, to be sure, has “touched my heart.”
[1] God’s Grandeur by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Traditional Taiwanese Funeral
By Michael Patrick Okeefe
As noted in the “Zai Jian” portion of this blog, my tai-tai’s mom passed away on March 23, 2008. In keeping with the Taiwanese/Buddhist custom, Mrs. Yeng did not actually die at the hospital. When the family decided it was time for Mrs. Yeng “to leave”, she was taken off life support, put on oxygen, transported home by ambulance, and placed on her bed. At that point, her oxygen was removed and she quickly passed away. Mrs. Yeng’s death was followed by a traditional 7 day mourning period.
As the initial part of the ritual, Mrs. Yeng’s body lay in state on her bed for approximately 10 hours while her family and Tzu Chi volunteers chanted “namo amitabha” (pronounced “na-mo ami-tofo”) to assist her soul in passing to the happy place. (The Buddhists do not believe in the concept of heaven per se; the “happy place” is the Buddhist approximate for the Christian “heaven”.) According to my tai-tai, the literal translation of the chant is “follow the Buddha”. I stayed for about 4 hours of the process and then had to leave. The ritual was simply too alien for me. For that matter, throughout the 7 day mourning period and Mrs. Yeng’s funeral, my tai-tai, May, was very understanding. May did not insist that I participate in all the local Buddhist funeral customs, although as Mrs. Yeng’s son-in-law, I was expected to do so.
Once the 10 hour period passed, Mrs. Yeng’s body was put in a coffin-like freezer in her house. A shrine was set up inside Mrs. Yeng’s home. Local Tzu Chi volunteers would come by occasionally and join my wife in some ritual chanting in front of the shrine. According to my tai-tai, the 7 day mourning period was to further assist Mrs. Yeng’s soul in passing to the “happy place”.
As part of the funeral custom, Mrs. Yeng’s home was prepared to receive visitors and a tent was set up in the patio area. May had to live at her mom’s house for a week while friends and relatives came by to pay their respects. Under Chinese custom, friends and relatives literally “pay” their respects – they bring money in small envelopes as a donation to the family. May used the money to defray funeral costs. She also made a sizable donation to the Tzu Chi foundation, which is the local Buddhist organization that assisted with the funeral arrangements.
On Sunday, March 30, commencing at approximately 8:30 a.m., the family conducted the actual funeral service. A very large tent was set up outside Mrs. Yeng’s house for the service – May had to get a police permit to close down the street. Tzu Chi volunteers presided over the service, which lasted about two hours. The funeral consisted of a lot of ritual chanting and bowing in front of a large shrine that had been erected inside the tent, followed by a movie showing snapshots of Mrs. Yeng’s life. The movie was a very moving tribute to Mrs. Yeng – it brought tears to many of the funeral participants and attendees. Lastly, all the attendees were given an opportunity to approach the funeral altar and offer incense and greet the family (which included May, me, and several close family friends). The actual funeral participants were required to stand or bow, as appropriate, during the entire service. It was quite a strenuous process.
Once the funeral was over, the funeral home took Mrs. Yeng’s body, along with the funeral participants, to the local crematorium. We then returned to Mrs. Yeng’s house and ate a meal prepared by friends and volunteers. At about 1:30 p.m. that afternoon, we returned to the crematorium where the family picked up Mrs. Yeng’s ashes and put them in the urn. I did not participate in this process, as this custom was also a little too strange for me.
After Mrs. Yeng’s ashes were secure in the urn, the funeral home transported the family to Mrs. Yeng’s interment site, the Fa Hua Shan Temple, a multi-level building situated on the outskirts of town. The building is located on a hill and has a nice view of Hualien harbor. The internment site was very appropriate, as Mr. Yeng was formerly the “Harbor Master” for the Hualien Harbor Bureau, and my tai-tai arranged for both Mr. Yeng and Mrs. Yeng’s ashes to be stored in adjacent receptacles in the building.
A Buddhist nun hired by the funeral home presided over the “internment” portion of the funeral. Food, gifts, and money were laid out on a table for Mrs. Yeng to take with her into the afterlife. The family engaged in more rituals, accompanied by more bowing and more burning of incense. No offense to Mrs. Yeng, but a Taiwanese funeral is not appropriate for a person with a sore back!
Interestingly, family and friends used the process of “divination”, by casting coins on the floor, to determine if Mrs. Yeng had “followed” her ashes to their final resting place and to ensure that Mrs. Yeng was ready to leave “earthly” existence. After Mrs. Yeng’s ashes were placed in the designated receptacle, family and friends talked a little bit, and then we once again returned to Mrs. Yeng’s home. Everyone said their goodbyes, and finally, the funeral was complete. May was exhausted by the whole process – from the time her mother fell and went to the hospital, until the time May placed her mother’s ashes in her final resting place, May was in constant motion and under tremendous stress. When the funeral was at last over, we returned to our flat, and May collapsed, exhausted, on the couch.
Yet, May’s task was not finished. As part of Buddhist tradition, after the funeral, the family has to perform ritual chanting for one to two hours, once a week, for seven weeks at a designated temple. May went to Mo-Ni Temple in downtown Hualien every Saturday to do her chanting. The process is led by the “Shi Fu”, or head nun, in front of a temporary shrine set inside the temple. With Mrs. Yeng’s favorite fruits, cookies, and desserts set out on a table, along with six kinds of vegetarian dishes, May, along with close friends, would bow and follow the “Shi Fu” as she led the group in ritual chanting. The purpose of these rituals was to guide Mrs. Yeng to the happy land, encourage her to follow the right path, and avoid distractions by evil spirits.
As noted in the “Zai Jian” portion of this blog, my tai-tai’s mom passed away on March 23, 2008. In keeping with the Taiwanese/Buddhist custom, Mrs. Yeng did not actually die at the hospital. When the family decided it was time for Mrs. Yeng “to leave”, she was taken off life support, put on oxygen, transported home by ambulance, and placed on her bed. At that point, her oxygen was removed and she quickly passed away. Mrs. Yeng’s death was followed by a traditional 7 day mourning period.
As the initial part of the ritual, Mrs. Yeng’s body lay in state on her bed for approximately 10 hours while her family and Tzu Chi volunteers chanted “namo amitabha” (pronounced “na-mo ami-tofo”) to assist her soul in passing to the happy place. (The Buddhists do not believe in the concept of heaven per se; the “happy place” is the Buddhist approximate for the Christian “heaven”.) According to my tai-tai, the literal translation of the chant is “follow the Buddha”. I stayed for about 4 hours of the process and then had to leave. The ritual was simply too alien for me. For that matter, throughout the 7 day mourning period and Mrs. Yeng’s funeral, my tai-tai, May, was very understanding. May did not insist that I participate in all the local Buddhist funeral customs, although as Mrs. Yeng’s son-in-law, I was expected to do so.
Once the 10 hour period passed, Mrs. Yeng’s body was put in a coffin-like freezer in her house. A shrine was set up inside Mrs. Yeng’s home. Local Tzu Chi volunteers would come by occasionally and join my wife in some ritual chanting in front of the shrine. According to my tai-tai, the 7 day mourning period was to further assist Mrs. Yeng’s soul in passing to the “happy place”.
As part of the funeral custom, Mrs. Yeng’s home was prepared to receive visitors and a tent was set up in the patio area. May had to live at her mom’s house for a week while friends and relatives came by to pay their respects. Under Chinese custom, friends and relatives literally “pay” their respects – they bring money in small envelopes as a donation to the family. May used the money to defray funeral costs. She also made a sizable donation to the Tzu Chi foundation, which is the local Buddhist organization that assisted with the funeral arrangements.
On Sunday, March 30, commencing at approximately 8:30 a.m., the family conducted the actual funeral service. A very large tent was set up outside Mrs. Yeng’s house for the service – May had to get a police permit to close down the street. Tzu Chi volunteers presided over the service, which lasted about two hours. The funeral consisted of a lot of ritual chanting and bowing in front of a large shrine that had been erected inside the tent, followed by a movie showing snapshots of Mrs. Yeng’s life. The movie was a very moving tribute to Mrs. Yeng – it brought tears to many of the funeral participants and attendees. Lastly, all the attendees were given an opportunity to approach the funeral altar and offer incense and greet the family (which included May, me, and several close family friends). The actual funeral participants were required to stand or bow, as appropriate, during the entire service. It was quite a strenuous process.
Once the funeral was over, the funeral home took Mrs. Yeng’s body, along with the funeral participants, to the local crematorium. We then returned to Mrs. Yeng’s house and ate a meal prepared by friends and volunteers. At about 1:30 p.m. that afternoon, we returned to the crematorium where the family picked up Mrs. Yeng’s ashes and put them in the urn. I did not participate in this process, as this custom was also a little too strange for me.
After Mrs. Yeng’s ashes were secure in the urn, the funeral home transported the family to Mrs. Yeng’s interment site, the Fa Hua Shan Temple, a multi-level building situated on the outskirts of town. The building is located on a hill and has a nice view of Hualien harbor. The internment site was very appropriate, as Mr. Yeng was formerly the “Harbor Master” for the Hualien Harbor Bureau, and my tai-tai arranged for both Mr. Yeng and Mrs. Yeng’s ashes to be stored in adjacent receptacles in the building.
A Buddhist nun hired by the funeral home presided over the “internment” portion of the funeral. Food, gifts, and money were laid out on a table for Mrs. Yeng to take with her into the afterlife. The family engaged in more rituals, accompanied by more bowing and more burning of incense. No offense to Mrs. Yeng, but a Taiwanese funeral is not appropriate for a person with a sore back!
Interestingly, family and friends used the process of “divination”, by casting coins on the floor, to determine if Mrs. Yeng had “followed” her ashes to their final resting place and to ensure that Mrs. Yeng was ready to leave “earthly” existence. After Mrs. Yeng’s ashes were placed in the designated receptacle, family and friends talked a little bit, and then we once again returned to Mrs. Yeng’s home. Everyone said their goodbyes, and finally, the funeral was complete. May was exhausted by the whole process – from the time her mother fell and went to the hospital, until the time May placed her mother’s ashes in her final resting place, May was in constant motion and under tremendous stress. When the funeral was at last over, we returned to our flat, and May collapsed, exhausted, on the couch.
Yet, May’s task was not finished. As part of Buddhist tradition, after the funeral, the family has to perform ritual chanting for one to two hours, once a week, for seven weeks at a designated temple. May went to Mo-Ni Temple in downtown Hualien every Saturday to do her chanting. The process is led by the “Shi Fu”, or head nun, in front of a temporary shrine set inside the temple. With Mrs. Yeng’s favorite fruits, cookies, and desserts set out on a table, along with six kinds of vegetarian dishes, May, along with close friends, would bow and follow the “Shi Fu” as she led the group in ritual chanting. The purpose of these rituals was to guide Mrs. Yeng to the happy land, encourage her to follow the right path, and avoid distractions by evil spirits.
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