On course to an information society

They’re no longer applying declensions in the departures lounge café at “Sheremetyevo-2” airport. After all, what’s the point? Man Friday understand without.

More Taiwan

October 30 — November 9, 2007

This time around in addition to Taipei I also went to Zhunan and Hsinchu, cities where I had some business to attend to. There’s absolutely nothing of interest in either one.

The only thing that stood out was how deserted Zhunan is.

And how in Hsinchu they were prepared to instantaneously close off all the roads:

Curiously, virtually all of the utility poles on Taiwan sit atop reinforced concrete platforms. Some of the platforms look like cylinders, some resemble entire buildings, others look like cross-shaped Christmas tree stands.

Taipei

In cafés once you’ve paid for your order a red puck is placed on your tray. The puck then starts vibrating and its lights begin flashing, signalling that your order is ready. You have to go up to the counter and exchange this wireless beacon for food.

Here cutting-edge technology rubs shoulders with the most basic. Take this seafood restaurant, for instance: the system of cascading fresh seawater works thanks to the holes that have been drilled in the plastic tubs.

There’s an Iranian restaurant in Taipei where they serve shish kebabs, shisha and belly dancing. The Chinese belly dancer’s performance was just as lacklustre as the Ukranian borscht we had in Ulaanbaatar.

At the airport there’s a café selling ice cream. It has a Russian name that translates as “Bread Salt”. For example: “One scoop of fried ice cream with Bread Salt nuts”.

Rubbish collection is the second religion after Buddhism. All of the cleaners without exception wear wide-brimmed hats, just like on a rice plantation. No one else in the city dons such hats.

Rubbish trucks drive around the city like music boxes, blaring out some electronic melody or other, for instance “Für Elise”. The tune is played on loop non-stop. The sound is a clarion call for local housewives to rush out with their rubbish bags — can’t miss it, can’t miss it. The cacophony is particularly dreadful when there are two rubbish trucks operating on parallel streets.

The Taiwanese just love to cover not only balconies, but entire windows with grilles.

In the metro once you’ve paid your fare the ticket machine issues you with a magnetised token. You use it to touch in on the turnstile at the entrance and then deposit it into the turnstile on your way out. If the amount paid corresponds to the journey you’ve just completed, the turnstile will let you out. The token, meanwhile, will be remagnetised for the next passenger to use.

In the taxi on the way to the airport I flipped through a magazine called “Discover Taipei”, this year’s first issue. I became engrossed in an article on Chinese lanterns which you release into the air at a special ceremony. The magazine explains where to buy these paper lanterns as if it were addressing a close pal. It says that it’s hard to procure them in Taipei proper.

There’s some sort of online store where you can order them, but the website is all in Chinese. So if you like, you can come to their office. It’s located in such and such a place, to the right of so and so street. The city government’s print mouthpiece states that the place is easy enough to find, although it’s not easy to figure out whether you’re actually in the right place. Because it’s actually the office of some computer modelling magazine. Its owner sells these lanterns as a way of helping his relatives from Pingxi. No one in the office speaks a word of English, but readers can use sign language to explain what they’re after.

Before you board you can pray in whichever room matches your convictions.