Like a good number of my northern Taiwanese brethren, last weekend saw your humble scribe and his motley brood fill the rusty old family car with zongzi of various flavors and make the annual migration south to visit wayward pockets of the Neihu clan for the Duanwu holiday.
Ever since they opened the second north-south freeway, this trek has become less of an ordeal if you know when to leave — and when to rest.
On your way down and back, you’ll probably explore the freeway rest areas. At these bustling microcosms of this good society you can park among hundreds and hundreds of like families and spend an hour or two eating, drinking, buying souvenirs, sitting around and gossiping, enjoying muzak piped through the car park speakers, disposing of your accumulated car trash, walking your mutt around the grounds (or pushing it around in a pram), filling up with gas, exercising with your kids/grandkids in areas with brightly colored playground equipment, scanning wall maps and learning about local tourist attractions, admiring displays of local agricultural produce, sleeping off your fatigue in the car or in the cafeteria and (my granddaughters’ favorite) shooting hoops on a video game arcade machine.
Some of the rest areas, particularly the newer ones on the Formosa Freeway (No. 3), have added attractions. On weekend evenings, the Chingshui Service Center in Taichung County, for example, seems to crawl with people who are there for no other reason than it has a great view and free parking — sometimes even live music and concerts. The downside at Chingshui is that you run the risk of having your ass blown clear off the mountain by the winds that frequently whip in from the Taiwan Strait.
But, like 95 percent of everyone else who drops in, you are there first and foremost to use the public toilet.
I am delighted to say that the designers of these rest areas have been faithful to the traditions of Taiwanese architecture by ensuring that at least 10 to 15 urinals are in clear view of each man, woman and child who strolls past the entrance. Another tradition scrupulously maintained, and which is close to my heart, is the female toilet cleanliness officer standing right behind you with a mop as you relieve yourself, or waiting right outside the cubicle door to clean up the mess that you’ve left behind.
So you see, dear reader, it was at freeway rest areas that I discovered that there is such a thing as taking a dump politely.
But on this trip something struck me. Standing up at the plate, you still see the standard “Don’t overtake using the freeway shoulder” and “Heavy fines if you don’t secure your load” cartoons, but now you will also see, perched on the urinal’s bone-white ceramic top, a picture of Andy Lau (劉德華), God of the Hong Kong entertainment industry, smiling warmly and wearing a brightly but tastefully colored suit and tie, his hand pressing against his heart, promising that he (and the manufacturer of the urinals) will be with you for life.
Every time I hold my member with one hand and lean against the wall with the other, Andy is there, comforting me and reminding everyone that all is well and that one can re-enter the world beyond the wet tiles with confidence. Each and every time, I emerge from these freeway public toilets with a fist triumphantly punching the air (after I’ve washed my hands).
Some people are so charismatic that their image remains unsullied even when, like a scatological Pavlovian tic, it enters your visual cortex at exactly the same time as your olfactory system is attacked by odors altogether less pleasant.
The same cannot be said for a lot of other people. If TV variety show host Hu Kua (胡瓜) smirked at me from a urinal ad, I fear I might unload my half-digested zongzi all over the ceramic fittings and force my hovering female hygiene officer to work unpaid overtime.
But if President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) tried to appeal to the masses by sticking his face on top of the nation’s public toilet fittings, there might be blowback. If, after five minutes unspooling my toilet tackle, I were to finally get to business, only to gaze upon the commander-in-chief’s weak grin, I would probably recoil violently, spraying the 4WD weekend warrior on my right and the father/son team to my left before staggering out to the safety of the parking lot.
It’s all about knowing where you belong. And what you’re meant to do.
This last week the president and his wife have been on a road trip of their own in Central America — with some humiliatingly low-key stops in Los Angeles and Seattle, of course. Still, denigrating your country by being a good little puppy for the US State Department and your spiritual mentors in China is an example of doing what you’re meant to do when you’re the prez. No problems there.
The real hiccups came when the presidential delegation hit our Latin allies. By all accounts it was a successful trip. There were spiraling arguments between Taiwanese bodyguards and Guatemalan security (possibly the result of our envoys’ lack of Spanish); a canceled meeting with the Nicaraguan president; Ma intoning “I am not the president of the Republic of Taiwan” after the Salvadoran government called my beloved homeland just that (bless them); and Ma calling US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton “Mrs Clinton” to her face instead of something resembling protocol.
Then there was our Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ doctor of spin. Our very own Taipei Times reported thus:
“Ministry of Foreign Affairs spokesman Henry Chen (陳銘政) said yesterday that ties with Nicaragua remained strong, adding that it was not uncommon for Latin American officials to be late.
“‘Sometimes they schedule a dinner appointment for seven but by nine you still haven’t seen anyone at the dinner table,’ he said.”
Ladies and gentlemen, this is diplomacy.
I don’t know about you, but I expect better diplomatic work in this part of the world from a Taiwanese government with a foreign minister called “Francisco.”
Still, there was a bright spot. Prior to her first official trip as wife of head of state, Chow Mei-ching (周美青) could have been tagged The Reluctant First Lady. Gaunt, severe and frequently grim-faced, Chow was beginning to physically resemble former first lady Wu Shu-jen (吳淑珍) more and more as her new job seemingly took its toll on her sense of autonomy and self-respect. All that was missing was a wheelchair and a jewelry obsession.
That’s all behind her now. Quickly recovering from some public banter about her husband’s personal flaws, Chow opened up both her personality and her neck line with a stunning musical and dance performance live on stage in Belize before an audience of hundreds of orphans with Belizean first lady Kim Simplis-Barrow and her daughter Salima as support.
There wasn’t a single Cyndi Lauper-era jean jacket in sight. We’re talking loose-fitting summer clothes here, including a flowery red skirt. We’re talking the first lady doing pirouettes and going wild on maracas, Chinese cymbals, tambourines and a cow bell.
She was high on something, no question of that; I’ll wager that the holiday-season alcohol likely in her system was a lot less responsible than the joy of life suddenly coursing through her veins. And no one was more astonished to see this than Chow’s fellow travelers in the pan-blue media.
The performance prompted the CTiTV caption dude to call it the “Liberation of Chow Mei-ching in Belize.” ETTV talk show anchor Liu Pao-chieh (劉寶傑) said the Chow in Taiwan and the Chow in humble Belize seemed like different people, and asked: Who was the real Chow Mei-ching?
One of Liu’s guests then droned on about how Chow had originally been like this, back in the days when she was a schoolgirl, but that 32 years of devotion to her husband and his cause had put an end to all that.
Dear reader, I am now dreaming of the day when I can walk into a freeway public toilet, unzip my trousers and be met with a laughing Chow Mei-ching. Next to her face is a speech bubble with the words: “Even when your life turns to shit, you still have to let it all hang out.”
Amen, sister.
Got something to tell Johnny? Get it off your chest: Write to dearjohnny@taipeitimes.com, but put “Dear Johnny” in the subject line or he’ll mark your bouquets and brickbats as spam.
There is much evidence that the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is sending soldiers from the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) to support Russia’s invasion of Ukraine — and is learning lessons for a future war against Taiwan. Until now, the CCP has claimed that they have not sent PLA personnel to support Russian aggression. On 18 April, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelinskiy announced that the CCP is supplying war supplies such as gunpowder, artillery, and weapons subcomponents to Russia. When Zelinskiy announced on 9 April that the Ukrainian Army had captured two Chinese nationals fighting with Russians on the front line with details
On a quiet lane in Taipei’s central Daan District (大安), an otherwise unremarkable high-rise is marked by a police guard and a tawdry A4 printout from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs indicating an “embassy area.” Keen observers would see the emblem of the Holy See, one of Taiwan’s 12 so-called “diplomatic allies.” Unlike Taipei’s other embassies and quasi-consulates, no national flag flies there, nor is there a plaque indicating what country’s embassy this is. Visitors hoping to sign a condolence book for the late Pope Francis would instead have to visit the Italian Trade Office, adjacent to Taipei 101. The death of
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), joined by the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), held a protest on Saturday on Ketagalan Boulevard in Taipei. They were essentially standing for the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which is anxious about the mass recall campaign against KMT legislators. President William Lai (賴清德) said that if the opposition parties truly wanted to fight dictatorship, they should do so in Tiananmen Square — and at the very least, refrain from groveling to Chinese officials during their visits to China, alluding to meetings between KMT members and Chinese authorities. Now that China has been defined as a foreign hostile force,
On April 19, former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) gave a public speech, his first in about 17 years. During the address at the Ketagalan Institute in Taipei, Chen’s words were vague and his tone was sour. He said that democracy should not be used as an echo chamber for a single politician, that people must be tolerant of other views, that the president should not act as a dictator and that the judiciary should not get involved in politics. He then went on to say that others with different opinions should not be criticized as “XX fellow travelers,” in reference to
RSS