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<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
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<title>We Ate Taiwan: 98年 3月 2日 – First Outings</title>
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<h1><a href="index.html">We Ate Taiwan</a></h1>
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<h1 class="tyfont-size-h3">98年 3月 2日 – First Outings</h1>
<figure class="tymedia">
<img alt="First outings" data-lazyimage="resources/photos/first_outings_large.jpg" src="data:image/svg+xml,%3Csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' /%3E">
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<p>My first venture into Taipei is for breakfast. Monica’s family lives on the west side of <a href="https://www.travel.taipei/en/attraction/details/524">大安公園</a> (Dà Ān Gōngyuán, “big peaceful park”), close to the northwest corner. Taipei 101, currently the world’s tallest building, is partially visible on the horizon – the top half hidden in the low clouds. If we are going to visit the observation level at the top of the tower, we’ll need to wait for a clearer day.</p>
<figure class="tymedia float-left">
<img data-lazyimage="resources/photos/daanpark.jpg" alt="Da An Park" src="data:image/svg+xml,%3Csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' /%3E">
<figcaption class="tymedia-caption">Monica at the entrance of Dà Ān Gōngyuán</figcaption>
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<p>Dà Ān Gōngyuán is full of middle age and older persons enjoying all manner of morning activities. Some activities, like the Tai Chi and yoga classes, are familiar. Other people are engaged in unusual gyrations. Clearly, the park is a popular place for early morning exercise. When we pass through the park after breakfast, it will be mostly empty.</p>
<p>A 20 minute walk across the park and into another neighborhood takes us to our designated place for 燒餅油條 (shāobǐngyóutiáo, “baked biscuit/fried string”). There is no good translation for this. Yóutiáo is a crunch/chewy fried pastry that, at least in appearance, resembles a churro. The shāobǐng is a small, flat square of flaky pastry with sesame seeds on the top. A few strips of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Youtiao">yóutiáo</a> are folded into a shāobǐng which works in this instance like a pita pocket. It is very popular here. The shāobǐngyóutiáo is very good. It goes down well with a milk tea.</p>
<p>The combination of the morning walk and breakfast have momentarily alleviated the disorientation of jetlag. Still, I cannot seem to eat the crunchy yóutiáo without making a mess. This is going to take some practice.</p>
<p>Monica and her mother have what Monica translates as salty soy milk. This is a soup of soy milk containing tiny shrimp and chunks of yóutiáo. They add vinegar to the soup as a condiment that makes the milk curdle. It looks and tastes foreign, especially as a breakfast item.</p>
<p>After breakfast, we make a stop at the local supermarket. Monica feels that it’s not really very “super”, but it looks very much like an average New York supermarket. Particularly impressive are the sections for tea, noodles, rice, and seafood. The price of fish is invitingly low. If I hadn’t eaten so much the day before, I would be tempted to purchase more food. While we browse, the jet lag returns with a vengeance. My eyes, exhausted and confused, burn painfully.</p>
<p>For lunch, our plan is to have 蔥油餅 (cōngyóu bǐng, “<a href="https://www.thekitchn.com/how-to-make-scallion-pancakes-cooking-lessons-from-the-kitchn-107405">scallion pancake</a>”). Before that, however, I will experience the Taiwanese bureaucracy: Monica needs to renew her local ID card. Since it is lunch time, the office we arrive at is operating slowly as most of the staff is away. In other words, it seems much like an American municipal office. Lunchtime ends while we are waiting and a platoon of pink-vested workers return to their desks. Things pick up immediately. A greeter, like in Walmart, waits by the door to help people find out where they need to be, assigns them a number (as in a deli?) and offers small paper cups of water. Numbers are called continuously as people are directed to agents.</p>
<figure class="tymedia float-right">
<img alt="Tiny dried fish with vegetables" data-lazyimage="resources/photos/tinyfish.jpg" src="data:image/svg+xml,%3Csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' /%3E">
<figcaption class="tymedia-caption">Tiny dried fish with vegetables for lunch.</figcaption>
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<p>We will have to wait while Monica’s new ID card is fabricated, so we leave to have our lunch. The menu includes tiny dried fish with green onion and black bean; cōngyóu bǐng; stir-fried pork and leek; 麻婆豆腐 (Mápó Dòufǔ, Sìchuān-style spicy tofu and ground meat); more cōngyóu bǐng, this time rolled with meat; and a variant of the familiar rice congee that is the equivalent of watery grits. Everything is wonderful, but the winner this meal is the tiny dried fish.</p>
<figure class="tymedia zoomable" id="lunch">
<img alt="A photo of our lunch courses" data-lazyimage="resources/photos/first_outings_lunch.jpg" src="data:image/svg+xml,%3Csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' /%3E">
<figcaption class="tymedia-caption">Some dishes from our lunch: 麻婆豆腐, the tiny fish, 牛肉大餅 (beef wrapped in scallion pancake), chicken with scallions, and spicy cucumbers. <a href="#lunch" class="zoomin tybutton">Zoom In</a> <a href="#_" class="zoomout tybutton">Zoom Out</a></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Because we stopped to take care of the ID card before eating, lunch time is nearly over when we reach the restaurant and we are one of only two or three groups of diners. Soon we are the only group, and the restaurant staff settles down at a nearby table for <a href="http://kottke.org/08/07/restaurant-family-meals">family meal</a>. The sound of chopsticks sprinting over ceramic plates fills the dining room. Once they finish (by then we are nearly done as well), the whole group of staff members (maybe 8 total) settle down for what appears to be a regular afternoon game of <a href="http://chineseculture.about.com/library/weekly/aa120397.htm">Majong</a>.</p>
<p>We leave the restaurant, satisfied and a little sleepy, and retrieve Monica’s ID card. Monica’s father then takes us the long way back to their apartment. We pass by a small park where Monica remembers climbing the trees; it was a long time ago and she cannot quite remember which tree she used to climb. The statue of a “wind lion” guards the park entrance. At one of the many stores and food stands that have laid siege to the park (coffee is a really big deal here) Monica stops to get a childhood favorite dessert: subtly-flavored hot gelatin with peanuts, corn, and a chewy substance that is not immediately identifiable. I’m so full from lunch I can only have a taste.</p>
<p>The combination of food coma and jet lag doesn’t leave me much energy for the afternoon. Regardless, we head back out with Monica’s parents to the main Taipei train station to purchase tickets for next week’s trip to Hualien. The station is a short bus ride from their apartment and the route we take passes places I would like to visit during our trip: the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial and the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/228_Peace_Memorial_Park">2-28 Memorial</a>.</p>
<figure class="tymedia float-right">
<img data-lazyimage="resources/photos/trainstation.jpg" alt="The ticket counter at the train station." src="data:image/svg+xml,%3Csvg xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2000/svg' /%3E">
<figcaption class="tymedia-caption">The ticket counters at the train station.</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The station is basically <a href="http://grandcentralterminal.com/">Grand Central Terminal</a> but with a better food court. The whole structure is built on top of a sprawling subterranean mall. After purchasing our tickets, we go up to the “food level” (which I learned later is called <a href="http://www.breezecenter.com/">BREEZE</a>) where we regret a lack of appetite. Beef noodles, Pho, sushi, and mochi stand out in my memory. We will have to work on the appetite problem and return another time. Oddly, signs over the escalator indicate that no pictures are allowed, so we were unable to pose with Hope and Love, the two <a href="http://www.sanrio.com/">SanRio</a>-like plastic panda statues at each end of the food level.</p>
<p>Down in the mall below the station, Monica’s parents become momentarily lost. The place is a rabbit hole of shops and reminds me of Penn Station. I’m becoming exhausted and they don’t find anything worth looking at in the stores. Back upstairs on the street level we find it is raining so we quickly jump into a cab. By the time we are back home, the rain has paused but the sky remains cloudy. The sound of falling water echoes between buildings as the excess trickles off of everything. It’s almost 6pm (my body thinks it’s 5am, my least favorite time of day) so we retire.</p>
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<h2>Journal Entries</h2>
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<li><a href="98-03-01.html">98年 3月 1日 – Arrival</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-02.html">98年 3月 2日 – First Outings</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-03.html">98年 3月 3日 – Beef Noodles</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-04.html">98年 3月 4日 – Dànshuǐ</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-05.html">98年 3月 5日 – College</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-06.html">98年 3月 6日 – Yángmíngshān</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-07.html">98年 3月 7日 – Sightseeing</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-08.html">98年 3月 8日 – Běitóu</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-09.html">98年 3月 9日 – Shìlín</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-10.html">98年 3月 10日 – Huālián</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-11.html">98年 3月 11日 – Taroko Gorge</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-12.html">98年 3月 12日 – 101</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-13.html">98年 3月 13日 – A Taste of Home</a></li>
<li><a href="98-03-14.html">98年 3月 14日 – Return Trip</a></li>
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<h2>About My Trip</h2>
<p>In 2009, my girlfriend and I visited her home country of Taiwan. During our two week vacation, I wrote daily notes of my experiences and together we took over a thousand photos. Those notes and photos have been compiled into this travel journal.</p>
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<p>© Copyright 2009—2020 by <a href="http://www.aaronpinero.com/">Aaron Pinero</a> except as noted.</p>
<p>Photographs may not be used in any other medium without permission. In most cases, we’d be glad to let you if you ask.</p>
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