Chinese New Year

My housemate Sarah took me to the famous Di Hua Jie in Taipei to search for tasty New Year's treats. She drove me on her scooter there, which is the last time I'm getting on a scooter in Taiwan. Di Hua Jie was packed. Here are some photos.






























If you'd like to see more photos, click here.

The Daoists

When we last left Roni: 22nd Century Chinese-Like Taipei Boy, he promised he would cut down on his profanities, but received way too much encouragement from his bad, bad friends to keep it up. Even his friend Edward, who is a vegetarian acupuncturist who lives on an ashram and has received certification from the International Gandhian Society of British Columbia, even Edward, for Christ's sake, gave him positive reinforcement.

Okay, I know all of you would like to hear about my experience being initiated into a secret Daoist sect in a hidden temple in the northern section of Taipei. Sure, you’d like to hear about the incredible concert I went to with full traditional orchestration. You might even want to know about my visit to Longshan temple, the most famous of Taiwanese temples. But I know what is on your mind, you fiends. You want to know if I hooked up with that Canadian girl I told you about last time. Don’t deny it. Some of you have doctoral degrees. Do you want to hear about classical feng-shui and its role in the Ming dynasty court? Sure, but first, you want to hear about Diana.

Well, just to nip your fantasies (and mine) in the bud, I just wanted to let you all know that Diana-the-Canadian-acupuncturist-who-is-doing-the-same-goddamn-thing-as-me here in Taipei, just broke up with her boyfriend of twelve years. Over the Internet. Okay, for those of you who are interested, I have a video of me running in the opposite direction really, really fast. (By the way, thanks to the wise young African-American Woman of Power who helped me get some perspective, do the right thing, and stay honest and compassionate at the same time. Kind of like rubbing your tummy and tapping your head, kind of hard at first, but takes practice, I think.)

Now that we got that out of the way, I should tell you that before we parted ways, Diana did take me to visit the acupuncturist she is working for. I am happy to report that Chinese Medicine in Taiwan is the same Chinese Medicine that I got a degree in. What a relief! After watching almost two hours of treatments, Dr. Chen blasted the Buddhist mantra music to clear out the negative energies in his office, and invited us to drink some Pu-Erh tea with him downstairs. He began talking about the roots of Chinese Medicine. About Daoism. He told me that Diana and I were spot-on to come to Taiwan to delve deeper into Chinese Medicine, and that we would receive many riches here. A smile came to my face, reminiscent of that of Luke Skywalker when he began hanging out with Obi Wan Kenobi.

“What is the most important acupuncture point?” he asked me condescendingly. I named a few of the most important points I had learned in three years. “No,” he responded to each of them. “I will take you upstairs to the temple and reveal this to you. Soon, you will know,” Dr. Chen informed me. I had known that we were going to eat a vegetarian meal upstairs, but didn’t know any secret points were going to be revealed to me. “Cool,” I thought. “Damn, this is getting all mystical and shit.”

Dr. Chen brought us upstairs, where several tables were lined up, stacked with colorful vegetables and tasty soy and gluten products. There were about ten other people there, and in the front of the room stood a large Buddha figure. I mindfully ate my food, using kuaizi, or chopsticks, and, for the twenty-sixth time, received a compliment from one of my dinner companions on my advanced chopstick technique. I turned to Mr. Huang and said (doing my best imitation of Arthur Fonzarelli), “Ayyyyy, I’m from California!”

Our meal was over. The tables were removed and small cushioned stools were placed in front of the altar, which was loaded with offerings of fruits and snacks, as well as your standard incense and candles. Dr. Chen asked me to fill out a form. “Uh-oh,” I thought, “they are initiating me into their religion.” The doctor explained that they were going to write my name on a piece of paper and burn it on the altar so the angels would accept me into their secret sect. At this point, I seriously thought about backing out, but I thought, “What’s the worst that could happen?” If necessary, I would use the advanced aikido techniques I learned in San Francisco, and the chopsticks from dinner were easily accessible in case I needed to poke someone’s fucking eyes out. (Hey, I know it sounds paranoid, but this is how real martial artists like Steven Seagal and Jean-Claude Van Damme think. I’m serious.)

The paper burned away and a group of nine men assembled and began chanting and bowing. Mr. Huang, my dinner companion, stood next to me throughout the ceremony and explained what was going on. About thirty minutes into the ceremony, he told me to take my place in the center and told me to bow several times. One of the guys in front recited several phrases in Chinese and asked me to repeat them.

You get the drift. After the ceremony, people congratulated me, and then, just when I was hoping it was over, Mr. Huang, who definitely spoke the best English of the old Chinese guys present, asked me to sit down for a lecture. It was during this lecture that three secret things were revealed to me, and I was not to tell anyone what I learned. Here’s what they were: 1) Secret Point, 2) Secret Handshake, and 3) Secret Mantra. (I’m not making this up, I swear!) By the time Mr. Huang finished explaining secret thing #1, it was getting really late, and I almost excused myself, figuring he could e-mail me the other two things. But I figured that he probably knew that e-mail isn’t really that private, and would be concerned that the information might fall into the hands of some pimply kid in Nebraska who might use it on farm animals or something like that.

And so I hung around for a little while longer. After the lecture, Dr. Chen handed me a laminated membership card and a book about the Dao. I wondered how you say, “I am outta here!” in Chinese and left. As I walked onto the street, past the hair salons, open late, and into the MRT station, a feeling of Buddhistic joy washed over me.

As many of you know, I have been very influenced by Daoism and Buddhism and have utmost respect for these traditions. Whatver Dr. Chen was doing, though, wasn’t resonating. I didn’t feel connected to what he and his buddies were doing, or what they were saying, or who they were. It sort of looked like a fundamentalist group that tries to convert as many people as possible to their strict, moralistic way of living life (I did actually skim through some pages of the book they gave me to see what they were about). Obi Wan’s words were ringing in my head throughout the ceremony, “Trust the Force, Luke, trust your feelings.”

There are many more stories to tell you, so I’ll send you more e-mails. I love you all very much and miss you a lot. By the way, Happy Chinese New Year, and keep in touch.

Roni
“22nd Century Chinese-Like Taipei Boy”