You are on the 'Rich Side' now. To get to the 'Write Side' just swipe left or right.
In this table you can see some of the things you can do on each side.
Here's a quick overview pointing out where to go to do all the things you want to do.
Tap the settings icon to find the how-to videos and the how-to guide.
It's easy enough to assume that for any native-English-speaker living in a country whose first language is NOT English, things could get a little... well... interesting. Looking back through some of the pictures we've taken since coming to Taiwan made me realize how many pictures we have taken of these mis-communications and mis-translations. Thought I would share some of my favorites:
When Chris and I first came to Taipei Adventist Preparatory Academy, they made us name tags... I was offended that they thought Chris was single.
I thought that 50Nt ($1.50 USD) was a fair price for a ride on this camel, I just didn't have time to travel to Kenya to buy the tickets.
Nothing like my favorite name brand clothes: Abcruioedie & Ficsf.
Just so you know, when you come visit us in Taiwan- DON'T DRESS SLOVENLY!
And leave those hot pants at home.
Guess what thees buildings looked like! j/k
Of course the food is different, but sometimes the appeal is lost in translation as well.
(We saw a cat kill their cousin! ha ha)
You know that mental picture you just got? Yeah, the real 'boiled pig large intestine head' looks worse than that...
Some where along this life's journey the years ticked by and we landed in the year 2010. I am not sure how it happened or how I got tele-ported around the world and dumped in the lap of Taiwan to experience the first moments of 2010 in the fashion in which I did. I guess asking "How?" and "Why?" are probably not the questions that will get answered until years from now when Chris and I are looking back at this time in our lives. For now I will just stick with attempting to answer the question, "WHAT IN THE MESS WERE WE THINKING?" I'll start at the beginning.
When planning an eventful New Years Eve, one doesn't typically consider sitting at home in your pajamas for as long as Chris and I did. After much deliberation, we decided we would save that festivity for New Years DAY instead of New Years Eve. So we easily chose the "next best" activity in Taiwan on December 31, 2009: Celebrating the New Year at the Taipei 101 during it's last year of reign as the "tallest" building in the world.
We headed out of the house around 3:00 p.m. to grab a bite to eat before heading into the epicenter of all activity on the island of Taiwan. Chris had his heart set on finding an elusive Canadian restaurant named Bongos which was supposedly set in the Shida (pronounces She-DA) District of Taipei City. We had unsuccessfully hunted for this restaurant two other times, both of which Chris SWORE he "knew exactly where it was". In spite of walking every street and every alley, the restaurant must have avoided us finding it both of those other times. But on December 31, Chris was more determined than ever. After 45 minutes of searching and dragging me along ever-so-willingly-and-without-complaint behind him, we finally found this "hand-held drum" so Chris could eat his deep fried gravy smothered potato fries, loving referred to by Canadians as "putine". :)
Around 5:00 p.m. with full bellies, we decided to head downtown to get settled before too many of Taiwanese masses joined us. Even at that time the streets were full. Only after we got there, did we do the math and realize that we were stuck at the Taipei 101 and had seven hours to kill. After wandering around we found that there were TWO seats left for the 3-D showing of Avatar. Two takers right here! :) Only the movie theater was so full we couldn't even sit in the same row! Chris sat behind me and I sat in front of him. It was such a romantic date. Nerd glasses and all! :)
We got out around 10:00 p.m. to what could only be described as the most concentrated crowds I have ever seen. The mall around the 101 goes for blocks and blocks- and so did this crowd. The roads were sectioned off and people sat wherever they chose. Chris and I attempted to get into contact with friends, but cell phones just were not an option. The towers were blocked and there was no way to get a free signal unless you called repeatedly for 20-30 minutes. I felt as if we had been transported forward in time to the world of the Avatar yet without the convenience of being able to communicate with anyone who wasn't in front of you.
Nonetheless, with the crowd so large and the cell phone service so shady, we eventually gave up on connecting with fellow Americans after several ill-fated attempts. We eventually camped it next to the closest open area with a view of the Bamboo Tower- by a large trash pile. Sitting in an unstructured area with a large group of people who have no genetic capability of understanding personal space proved to be a bit frustrating well before the New Year arrived. Chris and I had plenty of time to examine our own personal weaknesses and come up with a New Years resolution for 2010: Don't go to the Taipei 101 on December 31, 2010. Ha ha.
Eventually, time ticked by and the countdown to the New Year was rewarded with all of the beautiful explosions that had been promised. The colorful explosions surrounded the 101 in a halo of glory and the building was illuminated with Taiwan's slogan for the coming year, "Taiwan Up!" However, I think Taiwan adopted a "Don't ask, Don't tell" policy for the meaning of this slogan.
After we watched One-Million Dollars burn bright and quickly across the night sky in five minutes, we started to think about our next, and most importannt, event of that evening: GETTING HOME. With the crowd moving as one back toward every avenue of public transportation, Chris and I decided to wait about an hour before we joined the stampede toward the MRT. Around 1:00 a.m. we walked the mile towards the MRT hopeful that the crowds would be long gone.
Our hopes were quickly dashed when our crowd stopped moving well before the MRT was even visible. We waited and waited, and moved some and then waited some more. A couple of our favorite students bumped into us and joined in our misery about 1:30 a.m. After moving only a couple of meters in 90 minutes, we decided to hoof it the mile to the next MRT stop. At 2:30 a.m. when we arrived, the next MRT was also packed to the brim with people whose hopes had been dashed an hour earlier. So we figured, why not try the next one. Finally around 3:00 a.m. we successfully made it an MRT that we could get onto, and forward progress towards our much-pined-for beds (and toilets! I can't tell you had badly I needed to pee!).
At 4:00 a.m. we had ensured that our crazy students had arrived home safely and we crashed into bed. Exhausted and overwhelmed, our New Year had officially begun kicking and screaming its way into our lives. We will forever share that memory with 10 million (literally) other people who chose to venture out into the 101 area that night. Worth it for the memories? Now? Most likely. But at the time I seriously wondered: What the mess were we thinking!?
For our first Christmas together, Chris and I decided that since going home to our families wasn't an option, we weren't going to stay at home and feel sorry for ourselves! We were going to go TRAVEL! After very little contemplation, we decided that Thailand was the best option for a cheap/amazing Christmas break. Air Asia gave us just the perfect excuse to jet out of Taiwan at a cheap price.
We landed in Bangkok, Thailand late on Thursday, December 17, 2009- gladly leaving behind a cold, wet Taiwan. We had scheduled a day trip to Kanchanaburi (pronounced Kan-chana-buri) Town which is about 2 hours west of Bangkok EARLY the next morning. In order to fit in everything that we wanted to do there, we went through a tour company called Good Times Tours. We were met Friday morning by a very tiny and VERY spunky Thai tour guide named Dolores. If I wasn't tired before we left, I was tired after the three hour culture class she gave us on our way to Kanchanaburi.
It rarely feels like we are living on an island these days. The city life is bustling and full of opportunities for exploration and other cultural experiences.
Teaching school keeps us busy and our students rarely give us time to be bored. Most are inquisitive and somewhat comical. Chris has done well researching and planning projects for his students. He definitely enjoys keeping them on their toes and giving them a hard time. I have been thoroughly inducted into the school of education from the "other side" of the classroom. We've had some good opportunities for bonding with the kids both in the classroom and out. Chris and I are the Senior Class Sponsors, and I am a Basketball Coach for the TAPA girls team.
Chris and I live about one mile from the school where we teach as well as the closest hub for public transportation (MRT and buses). We walk to and from school every day as well as to/from transportation if we decide to do any extra exploring. We also live across the street from the largest night market in Taipei, Shihlin Night Market. If you were to visit Taipei, this place would be on you list of places to visit. It is one of the most intense bonding experiences you will ever have with thousands of strangers. We are lucky enough to experience this every night on the way home from work (sarcasm noted?? ha ha). Shihlin Night Market also provides a plethora of "interesting" smells, the queen of which is endearingly named "Sticky Tofu." Stinky Tofu is literally tofu that has been fermented in its own juice for several days/weeks and has obtained a smell that cannot be ignored. This can only be described as a combination of milk that is about 3 months past its expiration combined with death itself. I am told that you either love it or hate it. I can't pull my nose out of the latter category to see if my taste buds are genetically capable of fitting into the first category. :)
At first, we struggled to find food that we really liked. We weren't starving or anything, but everything is obviously packaged differently here... like with Chinese writing instead of English. :) It just takes a while to get into a niche of meals and restaurants that are "safe". We are finally getting there! We are fortunate enough to have a "neighborhood" Costco and a huge French grocery store called "Carrefour." Between the two we can usually find most things that we want, although they don't always carry our favorite American items or brands. I never have missed Kraft Macaroni and Cheese this much in my life! (The funniest thing is I never even ate it that much when I was in states!!)
Overall, Taipei is similar to a pretty typical American city- well, except I don't see any white OR black people for weeks at a time. OH! And when we go to Starbucks, I order my Tall Toffee Nut Latte by pointing like a 5 year-old.
From that fateful day when stinking bits of slime first crawled from the sea and shouted 
Gene Wilder, Young Frankenstein.
Preparing to go to Taiwan was a long process, from packing to repacking, to buying needed items to the more extensive emotional preparing for the separation from friends and family. Many times it felt like we were spinning our wheels, and anxious to go, but the time ticked by so slowly that we thought it would never come. The day of our long trek arrived on Monday, July 27, 2009. It was wonderful because we had an almost complete day to finish our goodbyes, run errands, weigh our suitcases “one more time,” and get on the plane by 6:15 p.m.
That day felt almost strangely anti-climactic even with all of the “last American meals” and the “last-last American meals” that we had eaten earlier that day and week. It was bizarre to watch my sister Holly drive away with my beloved Dalia in tow, wondering if Dalia would even miss me, wondering if she would ever be the same dog without me, and how I had become so attached to an animal that had been such an ornery pup and had caused me so much grief during the first year or so of her existence.
It still didn’t feel real, like “we-are-really-going-to-Taiwan” real, even when Chris and I were sitting at the airport with my parents and the unspoken “goodbye” elephant in the bustling airport lobby. I am not sure what I was expecting, but I know it still hadn’t sunk in at that point. After teary goodbye hugs, Chris and I walked down the corridor and through the hyper vigilant airport security into our unknown future. It felt like any other flight, on any other day, but in our hearts we knew this would be a defining moment for our futures and what lay beyond the next 24-hour series of flights would change us forever.
We landed in Phoenix, Arizona a short three hours later, and were met with heat that could only be compared to the blast of air that hits your face when you open an oven door. The pilot said it was “a mere 111 degrees,” which I believe was an attempt to make us feel fortunate that it wasn’t hotter. It didn’t work.
In our melancholy states we exited into the corridor to look for our flight to Las Angeles airport. We quickly became frustrated with the utter lack of organization in the Phoenix airport. We chalked it up to the heat frying any resident’s ability to think clearly and logically when planning this unnecessarily massive airport system. After wandering for what seemed like ages, asking for directions approximately four times we were finally directed to leave airport security. We dragged our extensive carryon baggage to the corner and waited for the ghetto airport bus shuttle to drive us the twentyminutes to the correct corridor where we were to be subjected to another hyper-vigilant airport security system.
Although there were no Mandarin characters, and everyone spoke something similar to English, Chris and I finally felt like we were heading out of the country. The first trying traveling experience was the last drop in the “is this really happening” bucket. It was too late to turn back. This was it. The sacrifice was real. We were and would continue to be far from home. We called our parents for the last time from the convenience of our Sprint cell phones, and taxied down the runway. We made it through Phoenix, and together we could make it through anywhere. Funny how it hit so soon, but it still took so long. I can’t explain why it was Phoenix, but that moment will continue to be a reminder. We are sacrificing for this experience, and we resolve to do everything in our power to make this worth it. We will live these two years to the fullest potential.
If this article (on another Taiwan Expat's blog I often frequent) doesn't make you salivate, you, sir, are not human:
Last, but certainly not least are the Thousand Year Eggs (皮蛋). Mmmm.These eggs are a traditional Chinese snack that are (traditionally by burying them in clay). They're cured for so long that the cured for about three monthsegg white becomes a clear, brown jelly-like substance and the yellow becomes green and creamy (or slimy, depending on who you ask). It's a bit like the egg family's version of blue-cheese.
INDIANAPOLIS—So... we're married. That just happened.
It's been a long time since we wrote, and for that, we apologize. The thing is, with all the cross-country moving, wedding coordinating, and Mexican honeymooning, we just didn't have a lot of time to write in our blog. Our bad.
However, we are about to start picking up again with where we left off—literally. In the next few days, some back-posts will appear on this site, informing you of what had happened in the last few weeks, so there's that to look forward to.
Additionally, Lisa and I are pleased to announce our new address for where we're living in Taiwan, so feel free to forward gifts, offerings, and general well-wishes to this address:
Other important information includes our newly formed Skype account. If you have it, you can go ahead and click on that little icon to the 
Thailand Toyko* wherever we are.
In less than a week, we'll be perusing the streets of Taipei, looking for clean bathrooms, tasty treats, and amazing tales to pass back to all you good people. Thank you so much for all your love and prayers, and keep visiting Wasabi Kneesocks to find out more about Lisa and my adventures.
*Yes, I am fully aware that this Japanese city is misspelled. The question is, though, are you?
Awww, look at them cute little honeymooners...
USAir 3802, 31,000 FEET IN THE SKY—On Friday, my Mom called me to say hello. She asked how things were going, as far as moving and everything, and how the weather was going. 
“Oh, ok, well I just wanted to ask her what it’s like to be unemployed!”
I laughed, but I hadn’t even thought about that yet—Lisa’s last day at work was Friday, so she was technically unemployed now.* Friday night and Saturday morning would be spent packing and cleaning for the move out of Lincoln; once we left the apartment and turned in the key, though, we’d be jobless and homeless. Yay for security!
It took us, realistically, the entire week to prepare for this move. I spent one or two days cleaning out my closet, throwing away trash, packing clothes, repacking them (in those vacuum-seal packing bags), and shuffling around different items to keep my two allotted suitcases to 50 pounds or less. Another day was spent just returning items to the store and running different errands around town. By the time Friday rolled around, I’d had more than enough of this moving business.
Things were really bad for Lisa, with her spending most of the week battling the chest cold that I happily shared with her. Being that she was working the 9-5 every day, her evenings were spent coming home and packing up all her possessions in preparation for this weekend. Even though I think we both wished we had more time to prepare to leave Lincoln, it was a complete and utter blessing when we rolled out of town in our packed-to-the-brim Accord and drove off into our futures.
Ah yes, the car—how could I leave that out? 
I recognize that I am prone to be hyperbolic at times. Perhaps it’s the self-conscious cynic inside me, but almost any time I say “It was the heaviest thing I’ve ever carried!” or “I was starving!”, I feel a bit silly for being so dramatic. Really? That 20-pound backpack is the heaviest thing you’ve ever held? Were you really starving? Really? With that being said, let me report this:
Had we brought attempted to squeeze one more item—a plastic Wal-Mart bag, 
a small shoe box, a sweater—into that vehicle, I can say with all certainty that it would have exploded. Seriously.
[Side story: two summers ago, when we moved Lisa from Chattanooga, Tennessee, to Lincoln, Nebraska, I was bewildered by the way this woman was able to squeeze force an endless number of items into her Accord. Furniture, clothes, a dog crate: you name it, Lisa had packed it. All she had left in Chattanooga was one box of food she “kinda wanted to take” with her; everything else was in (including her puppy, who sat on the floorboard of the passenger’s seat). While it wasn’t comfortable at all, I was simply amazed by how Lisa was able to cram her entire life into that vehicle. Now flash forward to yesterday: This makes that look like a casual stroll through the woods.]
Between the back seat, the trunk, and the floorboards, Lisa again proved to be a greater packer than Bart Starr. But how full was it? Thanks for asking. My driver’s seat to the car was at its most upright position, scooted as close to the steering wheel as possible. Not only was leg space impossible, I had to steer the wheel with my elbows. Let’s do a little experiment:
I promise you with every bit of my soul that this is not an exaggeration at all.
However, after nearly 13 hours, 5 states, and 2 time zones, a guy, a girl, and a 50-pound peeved-off puppy rolled into Indianapolis, exhausted, cramped, and ready for a good night of sleep. For Lisa, it was the beginning of her last fortnight at home as a single girl; for me, it was the day before I flew home to officially complete my reign as the Webb family dungeon (read: basement) master (read: borrower).
So here I am, sitting in an airplane, just a few days away from the end of an era. Often times, you hear about "the next chapter" (from people who don't themselves read, let alone write, books). In a way, I feel like this transformation is even greater; it's the end of one book and the beginning of another. I'm single, living at home, unemployed, and poor; soon, I'll be married, living on my own (in a foreign country, no less), teaching, and completely loaded comfortable.
The thing is, I'm psyched. I'm not worried. I'm thrilled. This week at home will be fun and relaxing, but it'll just be a layover. In just a matter of days, Lisa and I will set sail on our greatest adventure yet.
*I can’t say anything on that—I hadn’t been employed since the last week of May. Furthermore, I had no car, meaning that I would technically be referred to as a "drifter".
LINCOLN, NEBRASKA—One of the side effects of moving across the world is the inability to take all your possessions with you. Most airlines limit you to the amount of luggage you can take internationally to 2 full bags, one carry-on, and one “personal item” (a purse, murse, backpack, satchel, laptop case, diaper bag, duty-free sack, or fanny-pack). Nowhere, to my knowledge, does USAir allow one to take 2 wood dressers, 1 nightstand, and 3 giant cardboard boxes of “treasure” acquired over the last two years.
This rather unfortunate detail has forced Lisa and I to make a few decisions over what items we wanted to bring with us to Taiwan. Many items we sold via Craigslist; others we gave to friends and family. But what would be the fate of some of the larger purchases that we had bought intending to keep for a significant amount of time? Luckily, my family came through and offered a spot in their storage unit in 
However, the day was not without flaws and… challenges. Here’s a run-down of what the 24 26 hours of hell looked like:
June 20th, 9:30pm—After spending most of the day discussing the packing that we should be doing, Lisa and I drove up to the airport to pick up the vehicle. Lisa, being 25, has to sign for the truck. On the drive back home, Lisa calls me to inform me that “This thing is AWESOME.” Jealous, I drive the not-quite-as-interesting Honda Accord aggressively to a song by someone named Lady GaGa.
10:00pm—We officially begin packing for the next day. Recognizing the task before me, I become volatile and start shoving clothes into plastic sacks at a breakneck pace.
June 21, 1:00am—Lisa and I call a truce and decide to go to bed then and wake up at 6:00 on the dot to finish our job.
6:24am—Packing resumes; the official plan is to be rolling by 9:00am.
7:01am—I declare to Lisa that it’s pointless to even try packing everything up (being that we have to much left to do) for the 3rd time. She insists that because we have already paid for the truck, we would be driving down to Kansas come hell or high water. I am reminded why I love her.
7:23am—Finally done with the packing. Now, all we have left to do is load 78 items onto the truck bed. Lisa, not being very good at math or logic puzzles, doesn’t seem to fret that there is approximately 4 times as many things to get into and onto the vehicle than there is space for. Again, she insists it will be no problem. Moving to the truck begins.
7:24am—First beads of sweat begin to roll down my back and nest on my booty. It’s going to be a long day.
7:27am—Colossal-sized dresser loaded onto truck in the lying down position.
7:36am—Nightstand and smaller dresser loaded onto truck in the lying position. It is now we realize that if everything is to fit onto the truck, it can’t be lyng down. The emergency plan is to stand up all items nearest to the cab and fill up the bed with as many things as possible to prevent the furniture from falling over. Foolproof.
7:40am—I remember a quote: “Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently-talented fool.” Uh oh.
7:53am—Boxes upon boxes are stood up behind the dressers. I declare that there is no more possible space in the truck bed to fit even an envelope. Moving continues to the back seat of the cab.
8:14am—Mostly finished, I inform Lisa of my nervousness about the grey clouds hovering above us. Lisa argues that it will not rain (“How do you know that?” “It’s just not gonna!”). We compromise by agreeing to get a tarp and bungee cords for me; Lisa will get a grande Frappucino. Everyone is happy.
8:36am—Travels commence. First stop is Lincoln’s Super Target.
8:40am—We reach our target (wah wah). Acquiring the tarp and bungee cords proves to be easier for us than the brewing of our beverages by our talented, 16-year-old barista. There should be a college degree requirement for these employees. Perhaps unemployed English majors should be drafted into the $5 coffee beverage army.
8:52am—John Madden stops by to describe my complete dominance over the 8’x6’ plastic tarp and $15 bungee cord set: “You see what he did there, he pulled the tarp out and just covered the heck out of that bed. I mean, you think it’s gonna ride up or something, maybe fly off the bed, and BOOM, there he is, bungee cord. I’m looking at this kid, thinking, hey, he’s like the young Brett Farve of the truck/plastic-covering industry. Pat, pass me some more of that tur-duck-en…”
8:57am—Everything’s strapped down and ready to roll. Liftoff in 5, 4, 3…
8:58am—I look out the driver’s side mirror to see the tarp catching in the wind like a hot air balloon. One of the bungees has even partially ripped in half. So much for the “We can protect this stuff against the wind, rain and bug splatters” effort. Off with the tarp, but some bungees can stay on to secure the precious cargo.
9:01am—Everything secured again. Take 2.
9:04am—Lisa’s eyes don’t leave the dresser in the back. She expresses her nervousness about how the dresser is learning a wee bit backwards, collapsing the cardboard box of clothes behind it. On my rearview mirror evaluation, it can’t possibly be leaning back more than 5°.
9:05am— Ok, maybe 10°.
9:06am—30°.
9:06:30am—45°. Ok, Lisa, we’ll find a spot to pull over. However, there’s not really anywhere to do any kind of extensive rearranging, so we have to hop off Highway 77 to some abandoned parking lot.
9:12am—4 or 5 boxes are pulled out of the truck so the big dresser can lie down. All is good, except now we have to get all that stuff back in. Lisa, a master packer, get all but one colossal cardboard box back in the truck bed. She shoves it into a far-too-small spot and slams the tailgate closed. It responds by popping off its hinge.
9:31am—Lisa tinkers with the tailgate, trying to figure out how to just snap it back into its place. I still haven’t moved since Lisa broke the truck.
9:33am—I finally get my bearings and help her try to jam the piece back into its (now-broken) hinge. Running through my mind is not how we’re g
9:37am—A lot of really angry grunting.
9:40am—We finally get it set just right so we can close the back. Finally loaded up, we get back on the road. Lisa sits in the passenger’s seat and giggles.
9:53am—I end my angry speaking-strike against Lisa.
9:54am—She’s cute, so I guess I have to forgive her. Danget. At least now we’re going to safely make it home.
12:13pm—My last drive from Lincoln to Junction City comes to a close. The only casualty is my sanity.
12:32pm—My parents lead us to their storage facility, where we unload all of our loot. All is safe. Now off to Manhattan for some food and shopping.
6:13pm—Leave for the return trip to Lincoln. At some point on this drive, I realize that my throat is getting sore. By the time we hit Nebraska, I’ve almost completely lost my voice.
9:47pm—We return the truck to Enterprise Car Rental with just minutes to spare. Whew. With everything safe and secure, we drive home to get some decent rest after an exhausting day.
We put this address on the invitations (and the re-invitations), so for some of you, it might not be new information. However, just in case, we do have a wedding web site we put up with information pertinent to the ceremony:
http://ewedding.com/sites/ChrisLisaWebb
Take a peek at it!
Dalia grabbed a D battery. And bit clean through it. Although distracted, I caught on that something was wrong after the hacking/choking sound that ensued. After prying her mouth open to find nothing visible, it took me a few minutes to find the leaking battery in the corner of the living room in order to figure out what happened. She had gotted battery acid all over her tongue and in her throat. One $100.00 + emergency veterinary visit and three expensive medications later, Dalia is now on a plush diet of blended canned dog food three times a day. Poor dog is miserable. I would like to think this will cure her from her desire to eat random objects, but if so... I am sure only until she regains her "taste for rebellion." (ha ha, get it... she singed her tastebuds with the battery acid... )
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