Taiwan

December 2–6, 2006

Taiwan is a Chinese Japan of sorts. Taipei reminds me of Tokyo, its streets lined with advertising signs of equal width.

Its power lines hanging like spaghetti in much the same way.

The only difference is the language — Chinese.

You come across manholes a scooter and its owner could easily fall into.

If you don’t want to go down the manhole — not a problem, this lift shaft is always at your service.

Or, if you like, you can shoot out of a smokestack.

All in all, there’s no shortage of exits here.

There are as many mopeds here as there are bicycles in mainland China. Cafeterias and food joints of all stripes sit right there on the pavement. The prices are dead easy to get your head around — one Taiwanese dollar is worth one Russian rouble (on top of which you get a ten percent discount).

The roads have special moped lanes.

You can spot some interesting traffic light compositions.

As well as some funky heifers.

In residential houses almost all of the balconies are secured with metal cages, regardless of what floor they’re on.

Taipei is a surprisingly green city. There are parks and hills everywhere. The roads run through tunnels, and on the hills there are parks, or, like in this case, a cemetery.

This is more or less what the place looks like (the highest local skyscraper looms in the background):

Betel nuts are particularly popular among the Taiwanese. They’re sold like cigarettes — on every street corner. The identifying mark of betel-tobacconists is a bundle of fluorescent lamps, painted green as a rule of thumb.

There are dozens of these shops lining the major roads, with pretty girls in their windows luring in taxi and long haul truck drivers. Betel itself is absolutely foul.

It just so happened that I was here on the eve of a mayoral election. Campaign-mobiles with loudspeakers, a typical sight in Asia and Africa, were driving around. If you want votes, you’ve got to stand out.

How can you afford not to stand out when there are almost forty people standing for mayor? This is the first time I’ve seen real pre-election spam:

I put aside my work for a short while and went to explore the city. I stumbled across celebrations marking the birthday of yet another Buddhist figure. An unimaginable number of people dressed up as dragons were playing musical instruments and setting off fireworks. Right there in the middle of the city on a weekday.

An endless procession of cheerful ladies in pink pushed along decorated carts.

The roads were temporarily closed so that the frightful thunder of Chinese firecrackers could roll through them.

Then some people with flares ran out.

This all went on for hours. Firecrackers banged, drums went rat-a-tat, costumed amateur actors hauled around palanquin props, and then the whole thing began all over again. A masquerade parade strutted around the block. It included people who thumped themselves on the head with spiked sticks in a bout of religious ecstasy. Real blood spilled from their heads.

The on-duty policeman is asking drivers to wait a little. Someone is bringing in chairs — the men need to sit awhile in the middle of the intersection, to pound their heads with sticks, and to have a wee think.

Somewhere around here they manufacture LEDs, make press dies, develop electronics, and produce printed circuit boards.