Tag Archives: Taiwan

Taiwanese go crazy for Korea! Super Junior的追星族超夸张!

24 May

Taiwanese fans cheer on South Korea's Super Junior in Taipei last Saturday.

I somehow inadvertently stumbled upon South Korea’s Super Junior fan meet-and-greet near Taipei 101 this weekend (no, seriously). Teeny-boppers and inappropriately old Taiwanese had flooded the plaza, spilling over the railings and stacking up the stairwells.

Here the guys show off their more masculine haircuts (seriously).

Fans crowded on balconies and along stairwells to catch a glimpse of Super Junior M.

And here’s what I learned:You can’t close the door on the boy band phenomenon quite yet.

Asians are still going buck wil’ over South Korea’s mega groups, and the results are telling.

N’Sync, Backstreet Boys, and 98 Degrees had it wrong. It’s not that their “band” wasn’t boyish– it just wasn’t boyish enough! Nor girlish enough! If Super Junior is any example, a good boy band needs double-digit membership and a warm bath of estrogen.

All the same ingredients are there: minimal musical talent, solid choreography, a quirky “style” for each social sub-group, and one uber-star whose career might actually have legs.

And speaking of legs… don’t sleep on Girls Generation and Wonder Girls!

These groups– and their sub-groups (like Super Junior M and Super Junior Happy)– are dominating entertainment over here right now. Justin Beiber just came through Taipei. He didn’t generate near the metrosexual mayhem.

It’s all South Korea, all the time. On TV, on radio, on the billboards. Nobody, nobody but them it seems.

P.S. If you don’t know how to do the Bo Peep, well, you’re like an NBA player who can’t Dougie. So get on it.  @肉丝丝

Corporal Punishment in Taiwan

9 Mar

Not really Joe, but another of my favorite little monsters. He may have been trying to be a turtle. Let's just give him that, ok?

Meet Joe. He’s six, or so he says. His interests, in no particular order, are making obnoxious noises, distracting others, abusing others with a variety of ninja kicks and judo chops, and making little effort to speak English during English class.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice kid. I like him. He reminds me that I ought to track down and call all of my former elementary school teachers to apologize for my own twerp behavior.

But I have honed my methods of dealing with Joe. Mostly, they’re a system of warnings before I send him outside the door of the classroom for a few minutes to cool his jets. I also mix in a liberal amount of repetitive writing, standing up with his arms up for minor hijinks, and the occasional trip to stand in the back of the classroom if he is being super disruptive. I’ve moved his seat around so he’s out of arm reach of others. And I always explain to him in Chinese what he has done wrong after class. Most days, I manage to keep him under control.

The problem is, none of these minor inconveniences to Joe do anything to fundamentally alter his behavior. He stands outside the classroom, looking in sadly. He cries every once in a while. But that next day, he’s right back at it. Little punk ass.

Foreign teachers are put in a tough spot when it comes to discipline in the classroom here in Taiwan. From the standpoint of a buxiban teacher, we’re reliant on our school to set the policy. Generally, it’s in our best interest to defer to the Taiwanese co-teachers. But what is one to do when those methods seem a little, er, not right?

My co-teacher, a young girl fresh out of college who doesn’t speak any English, tries to help me with Joe. She’s gotten the order from the principal, who has presumably (though not always) spoken to the parents.

Yesterday, after I had Joe stand in the back of our classroom for incessantly speaking out in Chinese and singing in gibberish, my co-teacher took him aside. She half-pinned him in a corner and started motioning with a pair of scissors to cut off his hair. I couldn’t overhear what she was saying, but I am pretty sure it was something to the extent, “I told you to be good or I’d cut your hair off.”

When I first came to Taiwan five years ago, the government had just outlawed corporal punishment in schools. The first school I taught at still had the xiaoheishou (小黑手), a little black leather swatter in the shape of a hand attached to an elastic bungee stick, in every classroom. Whack!

I don’t know what to make of it. Sometimes, the punishment seems to border on Abu Ghraib. I’ve seen toddlers locked in closets with the lights off. I’ve seen all types of odd physical endurance punishments. I’ve had parents ask me to hit their kids. I’ve heard kids belittled to tears. Told they would be sent home with another family. Made to feel worthless.

And the problem isn’t only the teachers, most of this sort of stuff is “cultural.” The larger problem is this back-asswards education industry. From kindergarten to cram school, there really is no enforceable disciplinary system. The schools are at the mercy of the parents.

Private education is a cash game. More students, more cash; the ends justify the means. So, for the boss of the school, the warden, he just has to keep order, no escapes. That means making sure parents think their child is learning and happy. And if that child happens to be light years behind his peers and showing signs of learning disabilities, well, everything is dandy as far as the school is concerned. Hand over that tuition and here’s your piece of shit in a box of gold.

Students can’t get grades below an 85. They’re too big to fail. It’s bailout central. I write comments for all of my students at both schools. I am not allowed to write anything even remotely possible of being perceived as negative. If the child is a constant disruption in class, never completes assignments, cusses at me and others, it’s basically, “Dear Dahmer family, Little Jeff is doing great!”

It is a joke. The schools are beholden to the kids. They have to balance making sure the child doesn’t complain about the school and making sure the student seems to be learning a lot in class, even if that means teaching 5-year-olds who can’t tell you their name how to say the word “excavator” when prompted. It’s gotta be fun, but strict– no games, only writing, reciting, testing, again and again– but fun.

Teaching in buxinbans is a scam. Even in the good schools. For people coming to teach in Taiwan, or practically anywhere else in Asia, realize that schools are going chew you up and spit you out. If you can’t get enough out of life outside the classroom, you’ll fail.

The Perils of Free Speech

14 Feb

A “controversial legal action” is testing the definition of free speech in Taiwan, and it speaks to the role speech plays in a mass media democracy.

According to the Taipei Times,

The Taipei Prosecutors’ Office on Friday began handling a request by the Department of Health (DOH) to prosecute seven talk show pundits and a physician for allegedly spreading rumors about the influenza A(H1N1) flu vaccine… Contending that their sensational allegations made people reluctant to get vaccinated and left some vulnerable to severe bouts of flu and even death… If indicted and found guilty, each of the pundits is subject to a fine of up to NT$500,000 (US$17,100).

Freedom of speech is a necessary caveat to any successful experiment in democracy, or so the old line holds. But what if that isn’t completely true?

A friend emailed me the Time article, “Why China Does Capitalism Better than the US”  a few weeks ago. I found it an accurate and balanced account of economic development on the other side of the strait, and the facts are hard to argue. “Capitalism with Chinese principles” has not only endured the economic crisis, but it has laid the infrastructure for continued prosperity in the next decade.

Watching Obama’s State of the Union address, I felt it was all too disconnected. It seemed like he was trying to write the next great speech, trying to pander to political constituencies, trying to show the big picture at a time when Congress can’t trigger a point-and-shoot.

Meanwhile, China is in position to lead the world economy in solar, wind, and hydrological energy. It’s already laid the track for the world’s best train system and is rapidly reforming its education and health care systems. As Francis Fukyama told Financial Times in an op-ed titled, “US democracy has little to teach China,”

Many Chinese see their weathering of the financial crisis as a vindication of their own system, and the beginning of an era in which US-style liberal ideas will no longer be dominant.

But what does this have to do with freedom of speech? Attached at the bottom of the article my friend sent me was a link to Scott Adams’ blog and a post titled “Freedom of Data.” Adams went on to talk about how freedom of speech in China is limited in its socio-political system for the benefit of the greater good, an undoubtedly contentious point.

But taking a look at the situation here in Taiwan, it is rather refreshing to see media members and pundits held accountable for false information detrimental to the populace at large. We were reminded of how vitriol can lead to violence with the assassination attempt in Arizona. Still, political pundits in the US are seldom criticized for incorrect or misleading information, let alone punished for the consequences.

Maybe American democracy has something to learn from this side of the globe.

The Lost Year

13 Feb
My chariot

The Year of the Tiger was a dark time, but I still see the light.

Momentum was there. And then it wasn’t.  I’m chalking up 2010 as a lost year– not that it wasn’t interesting.

I left a good job and a great woman in a city I loved for a new experience, something more career-focused and resume-ready. It was a mistake; hated the new city and lost the girl. The new job was excruciatingly boring and depths below my ability. Disgusted by the people in my office, I was surrounded by spineless slugs inching along an oval track with no distinction between start and finish.

So I quit. Managed to find a new job. I was about to transfer from China’s largest English-language newspaper to its largest English-language television channel. The channel was looking to reinvent itself with a younger, fresher, more transparent style. It was looking for ways to breathe life into the “China Voice” internationally. There was opportunity.

Then came a stint in Chinese jail for, long story short, keeping to principles not held in China. A week later I was on a plane headed to New York not looking forward to an awkward phone call to the family. And without even the option of looking back.

I spent the summer in Boston, mostly, living with my aunt, uncle and cousin. It was my first summer back home in the US in five years, and it was phenomenal. O! clear skies, how I do miss thee. New Hampshire lakes, sailing on Long Island, the lake house in Maine, the 4th of July family reunion I always miss… I was back, equally lost and unconcerned.

A friend helped place me in a temp job as a corporate minion. Though everyone in the office thought of themselves as the next Steve Jobs, I realized I was back in the one place I had always tried to avoid, an office– staring at a computer screen, punching keys like that pendulum chicken dunking its head in the water: going nowhere. I could have stayed on, taken a full-time position. I could have dug in, played my cards right, and maybe made a management position in five to ten years. I could have. But I never would have.

So I flew back to point A: Taiwan. I’m right back where I started after graduation. It feels simultaneously safe and nauseating. For months I had nightmares. I’d wake up in a cold sweat, awash in allusions to my father and pressure to succeed. It was surreal.

But I was stuck. I had told my family I was planning to save for grad school, and I was, or had been– still am. But for those first few months I (purposely?) fell into a more refined version of the lifestyle that had prompted my departure from Taiwan the first go round. I was living high, eating well and drinking better. I ensconced my self-loathing in women and the pursuit of temporary pleasures. Eventually, it caught up to me– I caught up to myself. Unable to clear the bar of mediocrity, my dissatisfaction grew.

Right around this time the Patriots were making an unfathomable run in the NFL. I’d spend hours reading the most inane minutiae about bottom of the roster players. I’d joke to myself that this would all be worth it once they won the Superbowl (they didn’t). I put off narrowing down a grad program. After all, the money for a year in London wasn’t really piling up. Then former university students I had taught in Xiamen started emailing me for letters of recommendation to Columbia, NYU, Berkeley– and I couldn’t help but thinking that I should be asking them for help.

But what’s done is done. I fare well with regret, so, I’m moving on. It’s the year of the rabbit now, and deep as the hole may be, I’m certain enlightenment awaits. The lunar new year passed as I was kayaking through crystal clear waters and living on uninhabited islands in the Philippines. Life could be worse.

Taiwanese Taekwon-doh!

24 Nov

Creativity is not usually on the menu in Taiwan or China.

I can remember watching news of the First Gulf War in my living room with my parents. I was eight. And I can still remember their palpable intensity. I remember thinking, this is important. I didn’t know why, but I was certain it was.

At what age should children be aware of the gravity of a situation? At what age should they read between the lines?

Today, I asked one of my older classes to write down their thoughts on Taiwanese taekwondo athlete Yang Shu-chun and the fallout from her disqualification at the 2011 Asian Games– what Taipei Times is calling “SOCKGATE.”

I have two hours to teach essay writing skills to A3 each Wednesday. To give you an idea, they’re 12-year-old children from middle-class families, and they’ve been studying English for at least five years.

Yang Shu-chun is and has been the story in Taiwan. The students had heard the news and understood what had happened. But when asked why this story was important or interesting, they struggled to formulate ideas beyond “Koreans are bad people.”

(These are confidential essays. We discuss a topic in class. I offer a skeleton introduction and a dozen or so questions to help students form the body of the essay. They are encouraged to come up with their own conclusions.)

Fear not, Miles, it’s just taekwondo and the Asian Games, you say. Who cares?

You know, I used to lament my Chinese university students’ lackluster understanding of world news and its impact on their lives. But be damned sure, that if C-H-I-N-A was in the headline, they knew about it. And almost all of them knew exactly what they were supposed to think.

I am not saying I want all Taiwanese to be indoctrinated with party-fed prattle.  But I would hope, in facing an increasingly aggressive China, these children of Future Taiwan can be more creative and articulate than the voices from across the Strait.

(There is teaching to be done in A3.)

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